Friday, September 08, 2017

I'm reading a new book how.  It's one I read as a student but I don't recall it very well--Daniel Deronda.  I love it.

  I don't mind long books.  In fact I like them.  My favorite books are Middlemarch and Anna Karenina.  Once you become immersed in a book. you are transported to a new world where Melania's shoes are of no consequence.  Or Trump wishing the Harvey survivors to have a good time.

  One of my Facebook "friends" wondered whether Trump will pay for damages if his Florida property is destroyed by the hurricane.  Why wouldn't he have insurance, even as you and I do?  The comment dripped with motiveless malignancy.  Why so much vitriol?  Did Trump steal something from you personally?

  It will be 2020 before you know it.  If Trump is not re-elected, who will you take it out on?

Friday, September 01, 2017

The art business

I have relatives in the wine business, and it has been a revelation to me to discover how difficult a business it is.

  I thought you planted grapes, harvested them, made the wine, bottled it, and a truck backed up to your loading dock to deliver the wine to eagerly waiting customers.  I thought, in short, that after making the wine your work was done.  You might want to pour yourself a glass and sit back and enjoy the fruits of your labor.

  Wrong!  wrong, wrong , wrong!  It is at this point that your troubles begin. You have to stir up interest in the bloody wine and persuade customers  to actually buy the stuff.  That's the hard part.

  I find the same problems in the art business.  I have exhibited in juried shows and actually have won prizes and received accolades from those who should know.

  I still find myself with quite a bit of inventory.  My walls are full.  My children and friends already have some of my artwork.  A couple of people have actually bought paintings almost by happenstance

  So now what?

Monday, August 28, 2017

Sleepless nights

I appear to have lost the ability to go to sleep.  It's like losing a key; I have no idea where it is.  I rack my brain but can't find it. 

  I go to bed, but sleep does not happen.  I feel like Macbeth, or is it Lady Macbeth,  but without the guilty conscience.  On some occasions, I do finally nod off, waking in the morning to find I have migrated to some hitherto unvisited part of the bed with sheets and blankets tangled around me.  But lately, even this has eluded me.

  So I lie there, trying to think of something, anything, to divert my mind and coax it to release me.

  Sometimes I get up and have breakfast and then sneak back to bed.  This sometimes fools my sub  conscious for a time, not always. Or I move to another bed.  I open the window.  I close the window.  I turn on the ceiling fan; it get too cold; I turn it off.  I turn on the electric blanket.  Then I turn it off again. I go downstairs, lie on the couch, and turn on the television.  My feet get cold.  Alternatively, I feel hot all over.  Neither condition lasts.

  I am wide awake, and alert enough to do my income tax.  But I don't want to do my income tax.  I want to sleep.  I want to knit  up the ragged sleave of care.

Saturday, August 19, 2017

Evil machines

It is an established fact that mechanical devices are malevolent; I have proved that electronic devices are also imbued with evil intent.

Take, for instance, my GPS.  It was working okay, until Thursday night, when it was invaded by an evil spirit.  I had found my way to an area I was not familiar with, and was now headed home.  I turned on the GPS and programmed it to go home.  It led me out to the wilds of Pennsylvania, places which have never heard of street signs or lights.  From there it led me to Winterthur, three times.
Needless to say, I do not live at Winterthur.  Yet I went around Winterthur three times.

  It then directed me down a one-way lane, unlighted and creepy, and from there ordered me to turn at Dairy Barn Rd.  I refused to do so.

  I finally recognized my surroundings and found my way home without help from the GPS.  No one can ever persuade me that that device did not intend to do me harm.  Once lured down Dairy Barn Rd I most likely would never be seen again!  I'm sure of it!

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

Customer service

There isn't any.

Try calling Verizon, with which I have a hideously expensive account, to ask them to move the cable from one location to another in your house, and see where it gets you.  Clearly, the company has never heard of such a ridiculous request.  Verizon customers should leave their equipment where it was originally installed..  Or move to another house, if necessary.  End of discussion.

  Now suppose you are an. airbnb host.  Someone has sent you a message requesting the use of your house for a certain date.  You reply with an enthusiastic afirmative message.  Airbnb cannot forward your message except on their app, which has no link for sending messages.  Try the website.  It will notify you of wonderful venues where you can stay.  Anywhere in the world.  You could probably book a room on top of an active volcano in the remotest Godforsaken venue.  But there is no way to send a message to a potential guest.  Call the phone number provided for customer service.  Leave your number and they promise to call you back.  That is a lie.  They won't.

  End of rant.

Wednesday, August 02, 2017

Advice to mystery writers

In many mysteries I have read over the years, the villain makes a fatal mistake.  Having captured the hero (or heroine) and rendered him or her defenseless, he (or she) takes a much needed respite.  He decides to leave the victim where he is for the time being and go get some food, or take the dog for a walk, or any of a number of things that need doing.  He can always come back and murder her later.

  This is foolhardy.  The victim is bound to find a coat hanger or something and free herself.  You can make book on it.  In any room, no matter how little furnished, there is something that can be fashioned into a weapon in less than 10 minutes.

  In your absence, he (or she) will take a curtain rod from the window and fashion a lethal weapon out of it, a weapon with which she (say a 130 lb woman,) will subdue you, even though you're a 250 lb football player.  She will then take the discarded curtain and tear it in strips, which she will bind you with, before calling the police with your mobile phone.

The moral of this story is, Don't procrastinate.  Or as Lady Macbeth put "If 'twere done ,when 'twere done, 'tis best done quickly."  Or words to that effect.

Monday, July 31, 2017

What's the name of the new Communications director who just got fired?

This new guy, the new communications director who came and went like Haley's comet, is it worth my time for me to figure out his name?  He came on like someone from the Sopranos, only lower class.  What was his starting salary anyway?

  I'm  jealous.  In a just world, I too would get hired for a job I'm incompetent to fill, but with an inflated salary. I'm open to any reasonable offer.  An unreasonable one would also find me willing if the money was enough.

  During my last session of gainful employment, I had to cope with the public, politicians, and vicious Board members.  (You know who you are, Ed R, you slimeball.)  And all this for a meager paycheck.  Unfair..