Levels of Distraction

I suddenly remembered that I hadn’t written in my blog in what, over 10 days!?  Quickly, I powered up my computer to make amends.

But first, my aging laptop beeped her complaint that once again she could not remember the date & time. I believe she has Alzheimer's.  So, I went with her to 'Set Up - F2' & set her straight.

Now I was ready.

No, next an alert from Windows, informing me that Windows had been unable to update.  So I clicked 'Try Again'.  Sadly, my laptop was still churning the new date & time thru her system so the update failed.  Once again I clicked 'Try Again'.  After all that, Windows then decided it HAD no updates for me - "Fooled ya!"

Fine.

Now McAfee chimed in, pissed off about something.  McAfee was 'not able to update' so my computer was 'no longer protected';  that was McAfee's sad tale.

Jeez!  Do I have to do EVERYTHING myself?!

So, I went off to Uninstall Programs (I like to go there - but then find myself too scared to touch anything).  But this time I was successful - I found an extra McAfee (must have piggy-backed in on some other download) so I deleted that & my little 'alert flag' went away.

Now!  Finally, I could get down to business!

Well, Google Chrome then opened my preset tabs - Gmail, Facebook & New Tab.

Gmail - you know I had to check that.  It is possible that I could receive some very important emails overnight - like Sale at Briggs & Reilly!, or Last Chance for 25 Free Photos at Shutterfly!  & of course, in the spam folder, there will be at least one (if not several) invitations to order Viagra from some place in Canada...I couldn't just leave those sorts of things lying around in my mailbox.  So, I perused the emails & dealt with them as I saw fit.

Now time to write on my blog!

Oops, Facebook.  Better check that too.  One of my 51 friends might have posted something I need to know about right away.  & sure enough, my friend Roxy needs help finding a Clue on Hidden Chronicles.  Better go do that.  Well, now that I'm IN Hidden Chronicles I might as well play a couple games...& buy a Wishing Well for my mansion there...& go visit Roxy's mansion as well...then play a Fast Find against Roxy, oh, lost again...guess I'll just play til I use up my little energy lightening bolts...

Another request!  My cousin Matt has taken his turn on SongPop & wishes me to Play Now!  I know he is just sitting there in Atlanta, on a presumably faster computer, waiting on my move.  OK, yup!, lost again.  Well, that's okay, there's 7 more people that are waiting for me to lose against THEM in SongPop also.  Category - Modern Rap? - are you kidding me?  No wonder I lose these games!  New Wave, now there I at least have a shot...what?  so I like the 80's music, what of it?  Okay, anyhow, phew, finally finished - no, 'Robert C' played again!  Okay, NOW I'm finished - quick, get out of SongPop, the pitcher plant of Facebook.

(Gee, if I have to spend all this time getting to my blog, I better have some music I like, so I fire up iTunes.)

Facebook, right.  Oh no!  I haven't been to play Bejeweled Blitz today.  I don't want to miss my FREE SPIN!

("No Rest for the Wicked"  - now that's an appropriate song to be playing.  Cage the Elephant has hit that nail on the head this morning.  I'm getting thirsty, better get some more coffee.  What time IS it, anyway?)

Where was I?

Bejeweled Blitz, that's right.  FREE SPIN.  Three yellows, not bad, 50,000 coins.  You know, you need a lot of coins on Bejeweled Blitz.  To get any decent scores, you have to buy a Phoenix Prism, as everyone knows, & those babies cost 75,000 coins!  Otherwise, I will never get as good a score as my friend Pat in North Carolina.  Well, that's not true - I NEVER get as good a score as she does.  Not for lack of trying, tho.  Might as well play a few rounds while I'm here - after all, they only take a minute a game.

(Incubus - now THERE's a good band in Today's Music!  I'm not ENTIRELY stuck in the 80's!  Yes, I do actually have a Current Music playlist on my iTunes - so there!)

Okay, done with those games, finally.  Oops - Solitaire Blitz.  But no, can't play that one & listen to iTunes as I haven't figured out how to turn off Solitaire Blitz's sappy music...fine, I'll save it for later.

(All that coffee!  Gotta pee!)

Oh look!  A Notification on Facebook.  Let's see - my friend Lisa has 'invited me to her event for Poets & Writers at Hofstra University's Italian Experience'.  Cool.  New York?  Don't think I'm going to make it tho - better stop & send her a note.  Geez, if I could ever make it to MY blog, maybe I too could be a Poet & a Writer, hmmm...

(A Perfect Circle - see, another good current band - well, okay, in the 21st century, anyway.  Close enough.  Next song's coming up - ah, here we go, "Believe", by The Bravery - now, tell me THAT's not current!  I just bought that song.  Better play it again...)

What was I going to do again?

"Mom!"

I come out from under the headphones, "Yes, son, what do you want?"

"Can I get on the computer now? - you've been on it for, like, two hours."

"What do you mean two hours!  I haven't had a chance to DO anything yet!"

Underneath the Hair

Underneath the hair

I knew my son was lurking there.

Scissors in my hand

I prepare to make my stand.

I grasp a clump & pull it tight -

at least two inches would make this right!

I heft my scissors & employ the blade.

My son moans, trembling & afraid.

"Not TOO much, Mom!" he demands,

but the scissors I alone command!

He hears the snip & jumps in fear.

"Quickly, brother, bring a mirror!"

"Oh, my God!"  I gasp anew.

"It IS true - your eyes ARE blue!"

This one done, vacates the chair.

The next son awaits me there.

My hands are fully warm & ready

if only his head he would keep steady!

"Have you washed this hair in recent history?"

He shrugs his shoulders - it is a mystery.

Now his head he needs to tip

so that I can attach the clips.

"Stop that slouching!"  I complain.

He over-corrects, just to be a pain.

"Please, bend forward just a bit."

"Gee-zuz, Mom, when will you quit?"

"If you would just do as I say,

we might get this done today!"

I comb his hair back from the crown,

HA! - I KNEW this ones eyes were BROWN!

Looking now, at each son, 

I am glad that we are done!

Laying down the Law...

Decree

On this day, the 18^th day of August in 

the year of our Lord 2012,

Let it be known throughout the Land that Helen, 

the solemnly sworn Mother of this Family, 

will no longer be held Responsible for various 

Items of Little or No Import

 handed to her by other Family Members for 

safe keeping just because She is the 

Owner of a Purse.

Let it also be known that a Mother’s Purse 

is truly Not a Reliable Place 

for Anyone to keep Anything, 

as can be Witnessed by the many times the 

Car Keys cannot be found.

If Anyone, as a Member of this Family, 

has Items that they ever wish to 

See Again in their Lifetimes, 

these Items Must Not, under 

Any circumstances, 

be entrusted to the Mother, 

the above mentioned Helen, 

who is closing in on the half century mark 

& whose mental faculties are clearly waning.  

Heretofore, 

Helen No Longer considers herself capable of 

performing the extensive Duties required 

as the Owner of the Family's Junk Repository, 

& advises each Member of the Family to take 

Full Responsibility 

for their own Possessions 

forthwith.

The Criminal Element

My husband was calm when I told him that we needed to commit a crime.  He was irritated, true, but he was calm.  You would think that deciding to enter the criminal underworld would have made more of an impression.

While visiting our friends John & Ellen in the States over vacation, John had to leave on a business trip.  On his way out, he asked me to 'help Ellen with the garbage on trash day'.  This seemed easy enough, so after discovering that 'Trash Day' was on Wednesday, I promptly forgot all about it.

It was not until a few days later, as our family was heading off on some outing, that I remembered my task.  "Crap!", I said, as we drove thru the neighborhood & I saw all the overturned trash cans.  "I was supposed to help Ellen get the trash out!"  Ellen had left for work earlier in the morning without a word about the trash.  It now dawned on me that not only was I supposed to 'help Ellen get the trash out' ;  I was actually supposed to 'help Ellen REMEMBER to get the trash out' - obviously a chore I was not up handling.  I did feel bad, as we were staying with them for several weeks - seemed the least I could have done was do this one thing for them.
"We'll have to go out later,"  I said to my husband.  "We'll have to go out & find a dumpster somewhere to get rid of the trash before John comes home." 
He made a face. 
"We'll have to be sneaky,"  I informed him, "I think it might be against the law."
My husband growled, "I'll take care of it."
My hero.

Later...

My hero & I were going thru our friends garbage - getting it out of their garbage cans & bagging whatever had not been bagged before.  It was mildly disgusting.  I tried to lighten the mood by reminding him of an incident that I considered worse than this in our past:  "Remember that time I accidentally threw away your Swatch & you had to go dumpster diving in Las Vegas?"  I chuckled at the memory of him standing in a dumpster late at night with a flashlight.  He did not seem to enjoy this memory as much as I did.  He gave me a look that clearly said, 'this is all YOUR fault - don't even TRY to cheer me up' & lugged a huge bag of garbage out to the trunk of our rental car.  I followed with two more bags.

Inexplicably, at this point, with one bag of garbage in the car & two bags leaning against the tire, my husband decided he needed lunch, so he marched off to wash his hands.  I stood contemplating the garbage bag stuffed into the trunk & the advisability of leaving it sitting there marinating on this sweltering July afternoon, but what could I say?  I was on shaky ground here - one comment from me might end up with my husband 'washing his hands' of the whole affair.  Besides, he was right, it WAS my fault, & I was thankful for whatever help he was going to give.  So, I said nothing & went inside the house to eat my apple & almond butter.

Upon our return to the car, some 25 minutes later, we were met with one of the reasons we do not have pets - our friends dogs had had a field day with the nicely accessible trash bags, & the trash line extended up the driveway & into the yard.  I made no comment, nor did my husband, tho we were now nearly equal in stupidity, it occurred to me.  Neither of us said a thing (tho I could hear the muttered french curses under his breath) as we collected the garbage & slammed it into the trunk.

Now the search for a dumpster began.  Technically, when breaking the law, one should do it under cover of darkness.  But, being older & with poorer night vision, we figured it would be harder for us to FIND a dumpster.  So, we operated in full daylight.  "No one would suspect that!"  I exclaimed.  My husband shot me a Look.  We set off down the road, Mission Impossible music playing inside my head.  My husband made no comment, until about two minutes later, when the smell finally hit us.
"Oh, my God!" I shouted.  "It REEKS!"
"Puta--"  my husband stopped in mid swear to roll down the windows.
"It's over 100 degrees out there!"  I pointed out.
"So?"  he demanded.  "What choice do we have?"
Well, I had no answer for that.  We hurtled down the highway toward town, hanging out the windows with the air conditioner blasting.  I imagined those cartoon lines that indicate a strong aroma waving around us, & a trail of deadly invisible stench extending from the trunk like the tail of a comet.  I could picture the swath of dead wildlife we must be leaving behind us, & the possibility of maybe being an item on the 6 o'clock News:
"Tell us, Sheriff," a reporter with a gas mask would be thrusting a microphone into the face of a swooning Sheriff being administered oxygen by paramedics, "Are there any leads as to what killed these animals?!"  & the Sheriff would say-

"Are you looking for a dumpster?"  my husband queried.
"Of course!  What do you think?"  I responded.
Silence.
"Look, there's one!  Beside the Quik-Stop."  I compared this dumpster against my mental checklist for The Perfect Dumpster.

The Perfect Dumpster:

1. It must be mostly out of sight
2. It must not be locked
3. It must be mostly empty

"No, no - ", I said, as we circled the parking lot, "Too out in the open."

"Right."  my husband agreed.  Down the road we went.  Along the way we encountered several 'imperfect' dumpsters.

"This one's too close to the store."

"This one's got a lock on it."

"This one's in a gated community."

"This one's full."

"This is ridiculous."  said my husband, gasping for air & sweating profusely.

"It will be a funny story later."  I suggested hopefully, my hand over my nose.

"I mean,"  he pointed out, "it's not like we're trying to dump a dead body or something!"

"Exactly!  Here we are worried about getting caught for doing the RIGHT thing!  We could be just THROWING the trash in the FOREST, but NO!  Here we are, just trying to be law abiding citizens, putting trash in it's place, & --"

"LOOK!  There!  There behind the car wash!  I'm turning around." 

We made a U-turn in silence, each of us hoping that THIS would be The Perfect Dumpster, while taking short breaths thru our mouths.

"I think this is it."  I began going thru my list,  "Not visible from the office, not locked, not full..."

"I don't care.  I'm going to dump the trash here anyway.  I'm tired of this s**t."  

Yes, he swore in english.  I could tell he was at his breaking point.  

"Do you want me to help you?"  I asked reluctantly, sliding down in my seat, searching for cleaner air below.

"NO!"  I heard the implied rest of the sentence:  'Haven't you done enough already?'

So, my part in this escapade involved slinking guiltily in my seat while my hero took all the risk, &, fully exposed to the one customer at the GooGoo Car Wash, he boldly hefted those trash bags out of the trunk & into the dumpster, on an exquisitely hot & humid July afternoon in the beautiful state of Georgia.  I imagined telling this story later, to my grandchildren maybe -

"The first Dumpster was TOO close.

The second Dumpster was TOO full.

But the last Dumpster was JUST RIGHT!"

Two weeks & two bottles of FeBreze later:

"What are you going to tell the rental car people about that smell, Mom?"

Hmmm....good question.

Direction-ally Challenged

I first met Dolores a few years ago.  I was going to drive from New Mexico to Colorado when my father came to me & said, "You'll need Dolores, then."
"Who?"  I asked.
"Dolores.  Our GPS for the car.  We named her Dolores.  You can borrow her for your trip."
"Really, Dad," I laughed, "I think I can find Colorado from New Mexico - I mean, if I just drive north I will most likely run into Colorado whether I mean to or not!"
"Well,"  he intoned, "you never know..."

So, my boys & I were joined in the car by a machine named Dolores.  Dolores Garmin, I assumed, as her surname flashed across the screen when I inserted her cord into the cigarette lighter.  Before we even had a chance to get acquainted she 
insisted that I agree not to handle her while I was driving. Seemed a funny request from a machine whose sole purpose in life was to help me while I was driving. Since it appeared we would not be able to get out of the driveway until I complied, I went ahead & pressed   I AGREE.

Dolores was a generally silent companion.  As it was true that I could find Colorado by myself, I programed Dolores mostly to see if she agreed with what I knew to be true.  She was right on the money all the way.

After hundreds of miles of peaceful coexistence, the boys & I exited Interstate 25 at exit number 99 in Pueblo, Colorado to have lunch.  Dolores suddenly woke from her 400 mile slumber in a somewhat testy mood.
"IN POINT ONE MILE, CONTINUE STRAIGHT TO INTERSTATE 25 NORTH, EXIT 99.",  she stated in a no-room-for-argument tone of voice.  Who did she think she was, trying to send me right back on the Interstate without so much as a discussion!
"No,"  I told her,  "We're stopping for lunch."  I turned left at the intersection & drove under the freeway.
"RECALCULATING...
"IN POINT TWO MILES, TURN LEFT & MAKE A U-TURN." Dolores sounded a little snippy.
"No!"  I said,  "Not yet.  We will go back that way after we go to Arby's."  My boys giggled in the back seat.  
"Mom!  You're talking to a machine!"
"IN POINT ONE MILE, TURN LEFT & MAKE A U-TURN."  Now Dolores was definitely pissed off.
"Listen to her, bossing me like that - can you believe it?"  I joked with the boys.
"TURN LEFT."
I drove thru the intersection.  "I will not!  HA!  Take that!  What do you have to say now, Dolores?"
"RECALCULATING...".

Well, Dolores & I had a love/hate relationship for the rest of that journey - she loved me when I did what she wanted & hated me the rest of the time.  I was only too happy to return her to my father upon our return to New Mexico.

Last week, I met Dolores in New Mexico again.  Since our last meeting I had met a couple other Dolores'.  They all sounded the same, but they did not seem to know me.  I figured that was good, remembering that the first Dolores & I had not parted on the best of terms.

"Here she is,"  said my father, as the boys & I prepared to voyage to Carlsbad Caverns.  She flashed her Garmin at me once more & again forced me to agree to her disclaimer.  I was a little worried.  I had pegged Dolores as the type of woman who would hold a grudge.   I could feel my stomach sinking as I realized that THIS trip I might actually need Dolores' help to find my destination.  I decided to let bygones be bygones.
"Hello, Dolores."  I began nicely,  "How've you been?"
"CONTINUE STRAIGHT FOUR POINT SEVEN MILES & TURN RIGHT.",  she commanded in her deadpan voice.  It seemed innocent.  But I knew she was planning something.  I could tell by the way she just assumed that I had no choice but to do as she wished.  She sounded smug.

So, off we went, as Dolores tried to lull me into a false sense of security. All went well. The boys & I made it to our hotel & rested for a few hours.  Later, we hopped in the car & headed out to the Caverns, & that was when Dolores began to implement her plan of revenge.

Since I now knew that I didn't even have to THINK about where I was going, I just drove along on automatic, chatting & laughing with my boys & not even LOOKING at the signs. After a bit, it occurred to me that Dolores had not even chimed in once with some sort of order, or even a helpful bit of commentary.
"What's up with Dolores?"  I asked my son in the front seat to check it out, since I had promised Dolores that I would not touch her while I was driving.  He picked her up.  Her screen was dark.  He did what we all know to be the solution for everything electronic - he unplugged her & plugged her in again.

Needless to say, as soon as she was awake she began spouting directives.  "IN POINT FOUR MILES TURN RIGHT."
"Good,"  I said, "At least we haven't missed the turn off.  Thanks."
"Mom,"  my boys said on cue, "You're talking to a machine again."
"I know, it only seems polite."
"IN POINT ONE MILE TURN RIGHT."  Dolores knew her cues as well, but I can't speak for her social niceties.

I turned right off the highway.  This led us to a straight narrow road that led off into the New Mexico desert-scape, looking for all the world as if it was the only road on the planet.
"This can't be right."  I was a little unnerved by the sheer emptiness of the surroundings.  "You would think there would be signs for a big place like Carlsbad Caverns, wouldn't you?"
The boys agreed, tho Dolores sat, pregnant with silence, smirking underneath her screen I am sure, between the two front seats.  It occurred to me that I had not charged up my telephone & that it was currently resting dead in my purse.  All part of her plan, I thought.  Technology unites.
"Where are you taking us, Dolores?"
"CONTINUE FIVE MILES THEN TURN RIGHT."
"Right!?"  I exclaimed.  Looking ahead into the nothingness I could probably SEE five miles ahead & it didn't look like turning right OR left would do much to change the scenery.  "I don't like this,"  I told the boys, "I'm going back to the main road." I stopped & made a U-turn.
"Maybe we passed the exit on the highway & Dolores is just trying to turn us around."  the boys suggested, quite logically.
Dolores countered with, "MAKE A U-TURN."
"No!"  I told her,  "I am not going out there in the desert to have something go wrong with the car, with only my dead phone, a malicious GPS device & a couple bottles of water!" 
"RECALCULATING..."
I had visions of vultures circling my poor yellow Toyota, waiting for the fresh meat to stop moving.  Later, our skeletons found like a Georgia O'Keefe cow skull painting, next to a note scrawled in our own blood - "It was Dolores!"  So back to the main road I went.
"TURN LEFT."  Dolores remarked petulantly at the junction of the highway.
"Fine."
"CONTINUE EIGHT MILES TO EXIT."
"That's what I thought."

Soon we exited for Carlsbad Caverns.  I couldn't help but notice there were several billboards along the way, prominently indicating the direction of the Caverns.  I had a little bit of guilt there - maybe it wasn't ALL Dolores' fault.  If I had been driving along the old-fashioned way I wouldn't have gotten lost.  I decided to keep my guard up.  I knew Dolores did not have our best interests at heart.

After 7 miles Dolores piped up, "IN POINT ONE MILE TURN LEFT".
The boys & I looked at the sign,  "Sorry, Dolores, it says 'Service Entrance - Park Vehicles Only'".
"RECALCULATING..."
Soon she said again, "TURN LEFT."
"Ha - that's a One Way - Do Not Enter!  What are you trying to do, Dolores, get us killed?"
"RECALCULATING..."
Immediately, Dolores tried one last time.  "TURN LEFT."
I looked to the left - there wasn't even a road!  But off to my left, across a gully the size of a moon crater, I spied The Visitor's Center in the distance.

It was at that point that I knew Dolores had it in for me. I knew there was only one way I could get the upper hand. I did what we all know to be the solution for everything electronic - I unplugged her.  

But this time, I did not plug her in again.