The other day on my way home, I was listening to CBC Radio†. The program host was talking to the mother of a ten-year-old girl…and this mother had the greatest idea.
When her daughter was born, she created a Gmail account in the girl’s name. When things happened in the girl’s life, mom and dad would describe them in e‑mail messages to the girl’s account. Not only was it like a journal that the parents didn’t have to keep track of, anyone they gave the address to could also contribute. And of course, anyone could include photos and videos in their messages as well.
The instant the parents gave the girl the log in credentials, she had a journal of her life from the beginning, complete with photos and video, written by her parents and their friends and relatives. What a gift!
Now tell me, isn’t that a terrific idea?
† I tried to look up the show and who it was about. I couldn’t find that information so I’m going to continue without attribution.
In this latest instalment of ‘crazy shit my mother says,’ I’m sitting and watching television when the phone rings. Mom picks it up and from her side of the conversation I figure out one of her medical specialists is calling to book an appointment for next year. Given that it’s March, it’s a long lead-time, but not unexpected for reasons I won’t get into here.
Before she hangs up, she says to the medical admin person in a cheery voice, “Okay, I’ll see you then … if I’m still alive!”
A bit more than year ago now, a friend of mine acted in a way that made me question his friendship. It was terribly inconsiderate of my situation and even my health. He made it clear that what he wanted trumped any of my considerations, and my involvement was merely a means for him to get what he wanted. I was very unhappy. I made no effort to contact him afterward because I didn’t know what I could say that wouldn’t simply be angry.
He sent me a brief message a few months ago, and I was absolutely dumbfounded that the tone was as if everything was normal. The anger has subsided because we’re clearly not on the same page about what happened, or even probably about what being a friend means. Last week I sat down and wrote a short but concise e‑mail message explaining why I had been silent for so long, and why it was clear to me that I was mistaken in believing that we had a friendship. Ah, sweet catharsis! Then the message bounced. He’d changed his e‑mail address. Now what would I do?
I realized I would do nothing. I wrote the message I needed to write. The fact that I couldn’t deliver it was not important. The funny thing is that if I knew I wouldn’t be able to deliver the message before I started writing, the writing would have done nothing for me.
My unpacking has been a complete non-starter. My main mode of storage is an embarrassingly large number of Ikea Billy bookshelves. Prior to moving, I disassembled all the bookshelves and stored the bolts and dowels in an old peanut butter jar. Then, I managed to leave the jar at Lori’s place, 600 kilometres away!
To my good fortune, Don is visiting his family this weekend, and he’s coming here tomorrow. His day-trip will bring the jar to my doorstep! Thank you, Don. I can’t wait to get my hi-fi set up. Listening to the TV through the TV speakers is dreadful. Manufacturers take such great pains to present us with beautiful images, accompanied by audio that sounds like it is delivered through the telephone.
So in preparing to send Don the directions to my place, I opened Google Maps to make sure my directions were correct. Afterward, I activated the Street View feature to see if they had updated the street-level images. I got far more than I bargained for. In new images from last summer, my mom and dad are visible in the garage:
My mom and dad often sat out front, sheltered in the shade of the garage. And there they both are. Initially, it seemed entirely normal because I’ve seen them out there many times. But of course, I quickly remembered that my father is gone, alive only in memories and photographs. It was nice to forget his absence, if only for a brief moment.
Part of the reason is with my dad having passed away last year, my mom needs more of a hand. My siblings help her a great deal, especially my sister and her husband, but my mom has three children, not just two. In addition, my job search in town hasn’t worked out as well as I had hoped so maybe a renewed search in a new area will lead to better results.
So I’m moving back to my old stomping grounds … the city in which I grew up and left 24 years ago.
I’ve commented before, not entirely in jest, that I’d rather the water go out than lose Internet connectivity. In a surprising turn of events, I cut off my own Internet. On purpose! It started with the germ of an idea Lori planted during a chat late last week…
Rick: I’d be embarrassed to explain how far away from being done [packing] I really am!
Lori: Can I make a seemingly harsh suggestion?
Rick: You can suggest, yea. But I think I know what it will be…
Rick: No computer?
Loti: hah. turn off internet. get it disconnected. all together.
Rick: Oh! Yeesh. That’s a thought!
Lori: there’s no option but to wake up and face the stuff.
Rick: I know it!
Lori: Interwebs suck my life away.
Rick: …with their awesomeness!
Lori: guh. you see my point.
And I did and do see her point. I hadn’t yet arranged for an Internet connection where I’m moving so I got on the phone with Teksavvy. They’ll be out to make the required connection on June 11, and the required modem is already in the mail to my new address.
I then asked when I could have my current service cut off. She explained that I could have it active until they activate the new service, or if required, I could even have an overlap. I said, “No, you don’t understand, I want my current service terminated as soon as possible.” Then she understood. She said I could have it cut off that very same day. I told her that’s exactly what I’d like, thank you.
Unfortunately it didn’t happen. Most of the time, having the service too long would be fine, but all it did was have me use it even more and neglect packing because it would be gone any time now. It turns out that it was finally cut off almost four days later.
It’s not like I’m completely cut off, however. My smart phone has wireless Internet connectivity and I can use it to provide Internet access to my iPad or iMac, but it’s far more limited than a hard-wired connection so my packing is coming along nicely, now.
Not to say that it’s entirely without issue, however. My problem now is my complete lack of exercise. I’ve really let myself go and the packing is work. If you’ve seen my books, you know what I mean. I’m also disassembling my book shelves for transport to save space and also because I hope not to need all (nine) of them when I set everything up again.
So now, I pack and take a sort break, and pack again. Rinse and repeat. My current favourite break is reading. I started book three of A Song of Fire and Ice a few days ago and I’m now nearly half-way through it. In fact, I’m just about at the point the Game of Thrones television series has reached.
I can handle muscle aches, but I worry about my back. I’m careful to lift things with my legs and not my back, but my back is still making its complaints felt!
This is how things appear at the moment. All but a few of my books have disappeared into the dozen grey bins, and my CDs are all packed away. I’ve disassembled two of the book cases as well. The work continues.