After the attack on the World Trade Center Towers but before any plans were finalized for dealing with the terrorists, I sat down to breakfast with my father.
I felt lost and frustrated that such a thing could happen in America and nothing was being done to make things right.
“Sometimes I think the only thing that will fix the Middle East,” I said to my Dad, “is to turn the whole region into radioactive glass.”
“Then we wouldn’t be any different from the terrorists,” he said. “Even worse.”
My Dad was a wise man, and history may mark him as prescient. The event brought out both the best and the worst in us. History will sort it out. But, to our small credit, we didn’t turn the Middle East into radioactive glass.
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It’s a rare day that I get up before my cats. Today, Dougy greeted me with his now-standard body walk with kneading session, but Andy slept away on the little bookcase by my bed, oblivious to the time.
“Oblivious to the time”?! What? Feed-the-kitties time, and Andy hasn’t joined the assault on my sleep to shame me into an early start to my day so the cats get to eat yummy cat food at a little after 3:00 AM?
You got it. Today the cat slept in!
There he was, curled into a ball, butt hair just touching the oscillating fan when it paused before returning the opposite direction, oblivious to Dougy and me carrying on with the routine we have once I give up and prepare to get out of bed.
Andy is a back sleeper, unless it’s by the fan. (This photo was taken several months ago, when the boys were yearlings.)
“Prepare to get out of bed”? Yeah, I have to make sure everything’s operating before I stand because misjudging the state of my legs can result in pain and a fall. I’m reminded of something my mother said once when the subject of falls came up. “Don’t worry, Doug. I know how to fall.” And she did: when you feel a fall coming on, relax, and you hurt nothing more than your dignity! Most times.
Allied with knowing how to fall is knowing how to get up. That I learned from my father, who had his share of falls as he grew older. Picking him up from a fall was difficult for either my mother or me alone, or together for that matter. Dad always said that if we could maneuver him to a solid support (chair, bed), he could use his upper body strength to get up. And he could!
I have falls taken care of, though the best bet is to let my legs determine how soon I stand up. In the intervening time, I sit on the side of the bed. Dougy rubs against my legs to encourage a little haste because kitty stomachs need regular, timely filling. So, I pat on the edge of the bed. Pat-pat-pat! That’s Dougy’s and my morning routine.
Bed patting prompts Dougy to jump on the bed. He continues his destruction of the box springs covering by doing a scratch-stretch to let me know he is impatient for some action that takes us all to the kitchen. Then he jumps up on the bed and rubs against my side and back. Well, to get a little petting, too, but that’s a side benefit!
Shortly after we begin the ritual, he hops back down on the floor to walk toward the kitchen, stopping here and there to look over his shoulder to see if I’m moving yet.
Andy usually is down there with Dougy, making a nuisance of himself rubbing against my legs, resisting all attempts to pet or pick him up. If I won’t get up, he’ll use my desire to pet him as a tool to pry me off the bed. I reach toward him, and he runs away. The little poop! He knows I like to pet my cats, so he plays me to get me moving. Anyone who doesn’t believe cats train their humans never met my Andy!
But Andy himself was sleeping in today, right? Last night was a cooler night than we’ve had in a couple of weeks. I think Andy was just too comfortable to get up. He slept and slept, even with the racket Dougy and I made.
My body finally signalled time to get up. I reached over to greet Andy with a nose kiss – his nose, my index finger. Both boys like this business because my “nose kiss” involves a nose rub of that spot between the eyes that Persian cats can’t reach easily. Both boys close their eyes, tilt their heads back in a swoon, yawn, and give me a kitty signal that means “More! More!” Better than catnip. Better than tuna! Well, maybe not that good, but pretty darn agreeable!
Today, I woke Andy when I touched his nose. Andy has a kitten face, thanks to a more delicate build than his brother’s. He looks sweet – and is sweet – when he first wakes up. He has to work into his typical cattitude because he truly is a sweet little cat when his guard is down. My finger to his nose, he yawned a big waking up yawn, but didn’t get up. That fan breeze felt too good to move away from it. I rubbed that special between-the-eyes spot, he swooned, tilted his head back, yawned, and signalled he wanted more! Tuna could wait.
I like it when Andy is relaxed. He is a serious little cat. Unlike Dougy, a very playful cat, Andy is slow to get involved with toys. He does interact easily with Dougy, fortunately, so I always feel good when they chase each other through the house, playing predator-prey, a favorite cat game of theirs. I also like it when he just wakes up because he always wakes up in a sweet mood.
This side of Andy is so sweet, I think I should get up earlier than I do so I can start my day with a happy Andycat. Or not. I’ll just take a chance that I’ll catch him waking up during the day. If I want “happy”, I know where to rub!
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Each of us likes recognition. Who doesn’t like positive re-enforcement for doing something well? In the blogging world, where it isn’t always clear if anyone reads your blog, a little recognition is especially appreciated. Right?
Be honest with me and yourself: When you receive notice you’ve been nominated for an award that comes with a little graphic to attach to your blog, it is an ego boost.
Then you read through the details of the award, find out you are expected to nominate fifteen more bloggers for the award. The whole “specialness” of the recognition goes down the tubes…fast!
If only new people are eligible, mathematically you hit an impossible number of potential special people to nominate very fast. If anyone may be nominated, including previously awarded individuals, then the same mathematical conundrum kicks in: everyone is less special, their blog less recognized when everyone nominates 15 more individuals for special recognition.
I’ve received two nominations in the past month, which I appreciate on some level. You’ll notice, however, I don’t display either on my blog. I also didn’t pass the nomination on to 15 more people, a number most awards call for.
The table demonstrates why.
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You can tell a cat, but not much, as the joke goes. They definitely respond to people differently than dogs do, but it isn’t as critical as how we respond to them. Ask Andy. Ask Dougy. What is a kitty to do when it’s breakfast time and your human won’t get out of bed?
My boys are predictably accurate about the time. They know when it’s three in the morning, so pester me for as long as it takes to make sure I’m up and feeding them by that time. Believe it, they do pester me until I get up to feed the kitties, and all stops are out if I try to sleep past three.
Here are some of their favorite cat tricks to get me out of bed:
1. Standing by my bed, meowing. [Not effective because neither Andy nor Dougy meows very loud. If I am awake, I know that it signals more harassment until I get up; if not, I don’t hear it. FAIL!]
2. Jumping on my bed and meowing by my head. [A bit more effective, but usually a FAIL because of the same reasons standing by my bed and meowing is a FAIL. Andy just jumps on my bed, but usually stares at me long enough to try to decide if I’m faking sleep or am actually sleeping. He is my stealthy cat. After a short time, he’ll jump over to a favorite spot on top of the little bookcase next to my bed. There’s a fan on it, a folded blanket for his comfort, but, best yet, a good view of me in bed where he can see me but I can’t see him. He watches, watches, watches…! You know you are watched when Andy watches you. Dougy, however, scratches on the mattress, which irritates me but usually doesn’t achieve the desired effect. Then he jumps, landing by my head. The moment he lands he always meows, just once. The landing can wake me. The meow just tells me which of the two landed. Andy makes no sound. I try to not open my eyes, though, and pretend I am still asleep. Between them, they sometimes have success.]
3a. Walking on me. [Less effective than it could be because their predecessor, Louie, weighed as much as both Andy and Dougy together. Dougy usually is the designated walker, and I kind of like it when he does because it feels like a massage. FAIL.]
3b. Andy and Dougy are rank amateurs compared with the late Louie. He’d usually walk on me, starting at one end, then end at the other after he took a slow stroll on my body. I handled his almost 24 pounds (10.8 kilos or so) treading on me except for that spot between my pelvis and bottom of my rib cage. When he landed there, it hurt like heck unless I anticipated it and tensed my muscles. When I tensed my muscles, he’d hop off my body, stroll to my face, and start to stick his butt in it. He knew I was awake and that I always got up before he got his butt too close to my face. I definitely hopped up and fed the kitty! Louie was a tough cat, a veteran of the streets. You couldn’t fool him by keeping your eyes closed!
Cute or not, you didn’t want Louie’s butt in your face. As a boy cat, he sometimes was less than fastidious about personal hygiene…!
4. Knead the human. [Definitely a FAIL because Dougy, who has has a “mommy fixation” on my beard, doesn’t realize that kneading feels good so long as he doesn’t do it on bare skin. Plus, he has to nestle up to me to do it, which gives me a chance to gain more rest when I stroke his fur. That in turn prompts more kneading. I’m having a good time, Dougy’s forgetting why he’s kneading me because he’s having a good time, too. I just have to make sure he doesn’t get in my beard. It creeps me out when he nestles in my beard, and tries to nurse. ICK!]
5. Sniff the human’s face! [SUCCESS! I know where those little kitty faces have been, so the moment I sense one coming my way, I fend it off. They know I’m awake then, and gloves are off till they get me out of bed. This is when they start to gang harass me. Otherwise it’s a solo business, each in his turn. Besides, those cat whiskers tickle!]
6. Wag your tail in the human’s face. [This is a recent development that is guaranteed to get the point across to me: Get up. NOW! Absolute SUCCESS! Fie on you, Dougy. You discovered my kyptonite! Andy hasn’t learned this trick yet.]
7. Late in life, Louie discovered something that makes him unique among the four cats I’ve had in my life. His failsafe method to get me up? He’d stand on my shoulder with his back feet, put his front feet on my blankets, then walk my blankets down toward my waist. When you are a 24 pound cat, you can do this!
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Here’s a fresh look at the issue of copyrights and use of copyrighted material. While you are at it, take a look at Contrafactual’s blog. He puts out a quality product! http://wp.me/p3IHmK-ds
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I told you I’m going through a bristly period just now.
Geez! Just when I thought the previous post took me out of that zone, I came across a blog featuring YouTube videos of Beatles songs. The person who uploaded the videos on YouTube removed instrumentals from copyrighted works, producing an a capella effect. The boys sang like angels! Who knew?
It struck me, however, as an egregious violation of copyright law, even as modified. Google (which owns YouTube) took me to task for much less. It steamed me to see these Beatle videos. I left the following comment on the post. (I don’t think he violated copyright law by posting them from YouTube, but, just in case, I won’t name him and make the Copyright Polizei’s job easier.)
[I’m not paying fines or going to jail for this video! The soundtrack is new, attached from YouTube audio files! The video is reloaded in legally correct form!]
Wow! I accidentally recorded a little vintage Louis Armstrong on three short videos of my cat, Andy, when I made videos at the same time I was listening to a favorite CD. It looked and sounded cute, so I made the mistake of posting them on YouTube, thinking I “quoted” too short a section of each song to be in violation of copyright law. In retrospect, I didn’t adequately identify the music of copyright holder or meet the standards of the Creative Commons business.
Google sent me a severe notice about killing my children, confiscating all my wealth, and tossing me in front of a truck for my terrible violation of law and google (by way of YouTube) standards.
[This video, re-edited with new music downloaded from google audio files – i.e. “legal” music – also is a trifle not worth jail time with Bubba or a huge fine.]
I barely joke here. I was genuinely shocked and worried about my legal woes-to-be. I mean, remember when they sued schoolchildren who downloaded music off the Internet?
It’s videos like these that made me think it wasn’t wrong, however. I mean, I had snippets of music; these are complete copyrighted works, even as modified. Complete movies uploaded by individuals, not the known copyright holders, also confused the issue for me. Google applies the rule and laws selectively, apparently.
I was threatened with legal action even if I removed the three videos, banishment forever from YouTube, removal from their advertising scam-cum-moneymaking program (I don’t get enough views to ever trigger payouts), and deletion of all my account.
Frankly, it pisses me to see these videos on YouTube considering what I experienced. No, it makes me want to see a lawyer!
I re-edited the offending videos, and used Kevin MacLeod music I paid for that I profusely acknowledged both at the end of the videos and in the text under the video.
[This is the third video I re-edited with new music to show my desire to comply with copyright law. Thanks for the audio file, YouTube. It isn’t Louie Armstrong but it’s, well, music!]
I didn’t have to buy the music or do much more than acknowledge [its] source, using an acknowledgement shown on MacLeod’s website, but I decided google/YouTube needed to know I absolutely had authorization to the music, which I identified by name and the catalog number MacLeod uses.
This is from the file where I set up my video and YouTube “about” text. The box I copy on the video and the “about” text box below the video, but the lightning bolt is to remind why I’m doing this.
The irony is that my CD collection is somewhere between 5000-6000 discs, bought and paid for by me except for exactly one CD I received as a gift. I think my support of artists and the companies that produce CDs is easily established. If the average paid per CD was even $10 (it was more, of course), I have a small fortune in CDs.
Of course, since this over-kill by google, I doubt I’ll ever pay another penny for a CD produced by the copyright holder. (It isn’t the Armstrong estate, as far as I know, but Sony.)
You might want to review your liability, if any, for re-posting these videos.
Google says I am evil. Maybe I am. I definitely have an attitude – now!
I seem to have settled the problem of my videos to google’s satisfaction because advertisements now appear on my videos again, though, as noted, there is no, NO benefit to me. Even when I use google’s audio files [now], I make sure the name of the music and artist appear below the video since (for reasons obscure to me) sometimes YouTube adds these acknowledgements…, but many times it does not.
Whew! Sometimes protection of copyrights results in something more like copywrongs. Just saying. LOL! (Just joking, google/YouTube. No, really. I wuv you! >smack~smack<)
Did I ever tell you what the late Mexican writer Carlos Fuentes said about lawyers in a trenchant saying that translates well into English? No? Well, the saying is a curse: "May you be surrounded by a hundred lawyers!" Gets my attention.
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I’ve been wound up this week. Sorry for that! Anyway, while correcting some issues on my YouTube account, I came across one of my older videos, from May 2011.
Relax, enjoy!
I had a pleasant trip to the VA clinic today. The fellow I drove down for an appointment and I had lots to chat about, all pleasant. Sometimes good deeds do go rewarded!
Of course, Ye Gods tried to mess things up.
There is a section of twisty, hilly road from the intersection of Nebraska 26 and US 385 till you hit a hill that descends onto the tableland. It is a section of highway where it’s hard to pass safely. It’s a section of road where you don’t want to get behind trucks or cars going well under the speed limit. Today, of course, that’s what happened. When I don’t have a time issue, I don’t mind getting into this fix, but today we needed to get back before noon to sign some papers.
Ye Gods. You can see their handiwork right away in this situation!
Even with the time issue, we had roughly 20 miles (a little over 32 kilometers) to travel, with nearly an hour and a half to do it. No sweat! At least not until a tire blew on the truck, which was pulling an oversized load, yet another obstacle to a safe pass.
Chunks of tire flew toward us. I managed to avoid them, but I heard small objects hitting my car. This isn’t a good place to stop so I had wait till we got to town to check for damage. (There was none. Ye Gods weren’t having a good day, apparently, so I did!)
Did I mention I tossed an f-bomb when I saw huge chunks of tire flying toward my car? Use of that word is my single worst vice and leftover behavior from my days in the US Army. Yeah, just one f-bomb, so I’m getting better even if it’s taken over 40 years to get there! Woo hoo!
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I’m taking a veteran down to Scottsbluff to the Veterans Administration Clinic Wednesday morning. I do this occasionally, as you who read my blog regularly know, a part of my volunteer work through RSVP (Retired Senior Volunteer Program). It is an easy thing for me to do. It is something I can do. It is something I want to do!
The trip is a short one. We’ll leave a bit before 7:00 AM, and most likely be back home before 10 AM. My cats needn’t worry about supper!
This particular volunteer activity is one I feel the Veterans Administration, the US Government have a moral obligation to do but don’t, all in the name of saving money. More about that later.
There used to be a clinic in town. There is a bus to take people to the VA hospitals and clinics that serve this part of Nebraska but they are dependent of having a driver or a full day to devote to the activity. I am a time saver for the people I drive to appointments. When you get to a certain age, time’s at a premium. Let’s be blunt about it. Between riding and waiting to get in for an appointment, lots of time’s consumed in a way that saves the US Government (you and me, the taxpayers) money. Paul Ryan must be proud.
On the other hand, the people I take to these appointments served in war zones, gave up their youth being shot at, sometimes were wounded if not emotionally scarred. What the hell is a little money to you, me, and the money scrimpers in Congress when we’re talking about people like that? I guarantee your Congressman gets better treatment than that. So does your Senator. Yet very few of them ever served in the military, let alone stood in the firing line in a war zone, have to deal with a prosthesis, go to bed and not sleep because they can’t forget the terrors their country had no problem tossing them into.
I think it is a disgrace. Let me restate that:
Oh yeah, Congress. I spend my own money driving these people. If I can’t convince them not to give me money, I donate that money in their name to the Sallows Military Museum. Not because I’m rich. Not because I’m wonderful. But because we owe our veterans more than you are willing to pay. Let me spend my retirement money to do the morally right thing. You haven’t the integrity to appropriate adequate taxpayer money to do the same on a national scale.
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I need to vacuum today. When carpet dirt starts to form windrows along furniture, you have a problem.
The carpet looks like a herd of cats live here, there are so many clumps of Persian fuzz strewn over it. Not to mention paper shreds. Persians are static electricity generators, and all they need do is walk past the shredder to pick up enough paper shreds to make the whole duplex look like a copier room in an office.
Dust used to be a problem, both on things and in the carpet. I tried to convince myself it came from the bean elevator a few blocks south of me, but I knew that was hopeful thinking. One thing helped keep dust down: I changed to a virtually dustless cat litter because of how much dust the boys carried around on their hair.
Ugh! You know where that dust ended up! No wonder my sister-in-law won’t allow a litter box in her home, even though she and my brother always have critters around!
The change in litter improved house cleanliness beyond doubt, but there are other forces in play. Or playing. Dougy! Andy! I’m bringing out the vacuum! You made a lot of the mess, now you suffer the consequences!
I took a photo a few minutes ago (6:15 am), but in low light to help minimize how bad things really are…:
Didn’t work. Once I brought the color and brightness up, I knew delay is not possible. This needs to be a short post. Filth doesn’t wait. It accumulates!
[That’s Andy in the upper left hand corner, taking a drink at the fountain. He looks innocent, but don’t you believe it!]
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The Pareto Principle is a decision making tool used in industry. Also known as the 80–20 rule, it came out of observations made by the Italian economist Vilfredo Pareto that 80% of the land in Italy was owned by 20% of the population. He made other observations where this rule of thumb applied, roughly but consistently enough.
I used this simple tool frequently during analyses of data on causes for scrap when I worked at the factory that made industrial and hydraulic hoses.
To look at the numbers without some organization was confusing because of the number of possible scrap causes in the product made where I worked. If one wanted to reduce scrap by working on causes, then one needed to grasp where the most value gained for time, resources, and people used would be. The Pareto Principle quickly organized data into a format that did just that.
I mention this little tool because I find I need to review the blogs I follow in some meaningful way and to help me cull those that aren’t for me.
In the meantime, I worked up an example of how applying the Pareto Principle helps point you in the right direction. It is just an example, I note, and the “causes” are just made up, as are the data.
Chaos at the start; clarity at the end.
I highlighted the major “causes” (“the significant few”) with red boldface so you can see how data accumulated randomly might appear in part A., can gain a little clarity by calculating percentages of the total in part B., but become strikingly obvious in Pareto order (largest to smallest) in part C. The last column, with the accumulated percentage, by “cause”, shows how data needn’t be a 80-20 split to be useful, just approximately 80-20 for the underlying principle to hold true: You get the biggest bang for your buck by working on reducing or eliminating the items marked in red boldface even though they just approximate the mythical 80%.
Why am I putting you through this little tutorial on use of a simple statistical tool? It’s the way I think about problems, even after over four and a half years of retirement. My example lists some of what one might regard as potential problems worthy of a look.
If I made a Pareto analysis of what I don’t like enough about blogs to cause me to unfollow them, it might look something like the fictional part C. table above. Or it might include causes that demand immediate attention and a lot less of this navel gazing. For example, some blogs take up a lot of time to follow.
Here’s a real life example of the time issue. One blogger’s new posts and new comments notifications accounted for the biggest single part of what I opened every day. It became a burden. Though I mostly liked what I read, I just didn’t have time to read seven, eight new posts a day and all of the comments. This one blog took close to 25% of my total time! There was no way I could follow his blog without significantly shortening the time I spent reading the one or fewer daily posts of other people I follow. There also was the question of getting around to writing for my blog when catching up with all posts and comments took a major part of my day.
Another cause for dropping a follow is “self-important blogger”. Believe me, pride DOES go before the fall! I even experienced it this past week, shared it with you as a way to straighten up my prideful self. I dropped a blog this morning because of it. His hubris, not mine. Oh yes, and he replaced the other fellow who posted so frequently and whose followers commented so much that I spent most of my time sorting through g-mails related to his blog, and little on anything by anyone else.
In this instance, it wasn’t enough of a cause to make me to unfollow the blog. There were more than one, including insulting people who “liked” one of his recent posts!
Sometimes “enough” means “too much”.
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