Desk Clearing

     I have a bad habit of letting mail pile up on my desk.  Bills go between the keyboard and monitor and are, in theory, routinely dealt with.  Junk mail hits the trash about weekly or sooner.  The in-between stuff just piles up to the right of my mousepad: various credit offers, holiday cards, medical paperwork, instruction booklets, handwritten notes for stories or about interesting music or items I might want to buy.

     It's a recipe for clutter.  The pile grows and grows, occluding pen and pencil containers (a corned beef can and a soup can, washed, deburred and sprayed with clear enamel; a nifty urn-shaped jar that once held olives; the cap/cup from a defunct Thermos and a toothbrush rack that hold fancy fountain pens) and hiding tools and projects -- a math book by the brilliant Bill Eddy, Arch Brolly and others; a set of Brush Development Co. crystal headphones with a bad element from which I hope to salvage the good one to repair my crystal microphone;* the soft paintbrush I use to clean the keyboard and which I have been very puzzled about misplacing, since it was right around here somewhere.

     All of which I have sorted and uncovered, starting last night with a first pass to separate paid bills, "keeper" papers, insurance receipts and checking/credit statements into individual piles.  Those piles were further sorted and disposed of this morning starting about 9:00 and I am only now, as the clock approaches 1:00 p.m., able to get to the keyboard to log on and post something.

     Make that the the recently-cleaned keyboard.  Sure happy to find that paintbrush!
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* Nothing doing -- both elements are broken.  I'll have to keep an eye open for another.  Turning crystal "cans" into microphones is a  simple 1930s ham radio trick that works very well.  It's roughly contemporary with the Astatic D-104 crystal microphone, a classic that was made well into the 21st Century, and that's no accident: the two hams who founded Astatic had a friend who worked at Brush.  The three of them were interested in making affordable microphones for amateur use and at the time, Brush was not -- but the company was happy to sell them Rochelle-salts crystal transducers.  The result was an enduring product.  However, while the product (or products -- Brush crystal headphones were the only "hi-fi" option until Koss came along) was enduring, the crystals themselves are fragile and sensitive to heat, humidity and applied voltage, so these days, it can take a little looking.

"REFI!"

     The aftermath of my mother's death has left me dealing with a small financial windfall, which led, by divers means, to talking to my bank about refinancing my home.

     Now, this is something I really should do; I bought at the wrong point in time, my initial lender was Countrymark, which was snapped up by Bank of America who are, after all, BoA, with all the warmth and personal touch you might expect from a mega-megabank.  The interest rate is terrible--

     But I'm used to it.  With homeowner's insurance and real-estate tax rolled in, my house payment is a predictable expense, and setting up a mortgage was stressful enough once.  Still, shaving five years off my remaining payments for a 10% increase in home much I pay each month is certainly appealing.

     My bank's home-loan guy is...too eager.  Pushy, even.  It gets my back up, and all the more when he exhorts, "Do it now!  Lock in the rate!  It's going up!"  Yes, well--  It's been going up for awhile now, and it's still not close to the rate I'm paying.  Plus, the appraisal process seems intrusive and time-consuming.  So I don't think I'll be doing it just yet.

     Banks used to be less annoying.  Stuffy, sure.  Stodgy.  Snooty.  But they'd by-golly take a hint and back down.

"Windows Update"

     You got it, too, unless you're within the Apple/Mac ecosystem or are some kinda *nixer.  Twenty minutes of "Windows is updating.  Do not turn off your computer" and a count that reached "48% done" twice.

     Twenty minutes of my life that I'm not going to get back.  At least I was running hot water into the bathtub and eating breakfast while I watched the spinning dots.

     And once it is all over, after I have found out the battery in my hand-me-down iPad is dead and my Surface RT has decided it doesn't want to play nice with the Bluetooth keyboard (a Lofree, excellent keyboard but they keep tweaking the colors and raising the price), then the machine boots and I learn it has All!  New!!  FE4TURZ!!! none of which I wanted.

     Where's the "patch the problems but leave the rest of it alone" option?  I'm getting along with Windows 10 pretty well, almost as well as with its predecessors, though never as well as with MS-DOS and certainly not as comfortably as I did with CP/M.  (Oh, how I miss CP/M and the tiny computers it ran on, which forced programmers to write tight code if they wanted the stuff to run at all; but I digress and besides, it didn't do color or pictures, which makes it about the same as landline telegraphy to the modern mind).

     It's 2018 and my computer's into self-improvement.  Physical Jerks on the telescreen are next, I suppose, and participation is mandatory.

"...Interesting Times..."

     It certainly seemed like interesting times yesterday, with the Administrating repudiating one nuclear-limitation deal with one worrying country while angling to set up a similar deal with another worrisome nation.

     How you feel about the situation is likely to hinge on partisan politics: Mr. Obama's Administration made the Iran deal and Mr. Trump has been vocal in calling it a bad bargain; meanwhile, what might happen with North Korea remains highly speculative, with nuclear disarmament no more in evidence than a flicker of exposed ankle at a Victorian party.

     I'm suspicious of party politics as the sole lens through which to look at world events, but what else do can you do?

      Turns out there is another tool.  It's cheap and easy to use, though limited: it will tell you the impact of a major policy or action, with a fair indication of magnitude, but puzzling out if the impact is a good thing or a bad thing for you or wider world requires interpretation: the daily graph of the Dow Jones Industrial Average.  Investors -- "the market" generally -- like stability and predictability for the world in which they cast their knucklebones.*  The market reacts to news -- scare them and it contracts; give them happy news and it soars.  There's a quick "bobble" yesterday afternoon, peaking around 2:30 p.m., dipping down and then returning to par for the remainder of the day: the market wasn't terribly worried by the President's announcement.  If they're not, I likely don't need to be, either.
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* The child of Depression babies, I grew up with the belief that "playing the market" was the very same thing as "playing the ponies," only on a larger scale and done by better-dressed bettors: people with money to burn risking it in the hopes of making more money, an activity limited to those who could afford to lose and nothing a decent, hardworking middle-class person would do.  I'm told that's no longer the prevalent attitude, but when people talk about investing their 401k in stocks, it strikes me as an insanely foolish risk: that's your retirement you're gambling with!  YMMV.

New NRA President: Oliver North

     If Charleton Heston represented the best of my parents generation, Lieutenant Colonel North represents....what?

     On the one hand, he's plenty smart, and used to being disliked; he's written books, hosted TV shows and is one of the go-to military experts for Fox News.  On the other, he's Oliver North, a sneak who colluded with Manuel Noriega, got caught, was tried and convicted -- and then the prosecution turned out to have not been sufficiently careful to distinguish between testimony for which he had been granted immunity and non-immune evidence, and who (including the jury) saw what when and hey-la, LtCol North was acquitted on appeal, thanks to the efforts of the ACLU.  On the other other hand, his military record as a leader of men, in combat and the classroom, looks very good indeed.

     Tam sees this development as NRA nailing their SoCon flag to the standard -- but that was the case before his election, too.

     So NRA's got a media-savvy President with high name recognition, who most of the media already didn't like and who is used to facing hostile interviewers: it could have been much worse, some milquetoast or off-kilter firebrand (I'm not saying the name "Nugent" but when you think of self-igniting dumpster fires...) and it may turn out pretty good.

     But going to wait and see.  

Off To The Bank

     I have got to go talk to the bank about some financial stuff.  Nothing bad, just some loose ends left from sorting out Mom's estate.  Looks like I won't be getting the gold-plated Rolls-Royce, but it never got good mileage after the plating anyway.

I'm All Right

     It just all piled up on me yesterday -- I was going in to work overtime, since we're so short-handed at work that there's no way not to, and it all hit.

     May is a tough month anyway, but facing Mother's day so soon after Mom's death, and then her birthday on the 19th, well, that's too much.  (It's the anniversary of my father's death, too.)   My brother's birthday is the 21st and a week later, I get slammed with a birthday ending in zero, one of the bad ones, one of the, "You're well past the halfway point now," birthdays that aren't easy to take.

     Nobody is spared this if they last long enough but it's still not a light burden.

You Know What?

     I feel lousy most of the time.  I try not to, but I still do.  And I get tired of always working so hard to look on the bright side.

     Kids, old is just old.  Enjoy what you have while you have it.  Sleep less.  Dance more.   Or write, paint, whatever.  Do it while you can.

Are They Hiring Geyser Technicians?

     Hawaii's Kilauea Volcano erupted yesterday, in one of the inevitable-but-when events that characterize the relationship between the people who live there and the ground beneath their feet; a telling line from one of the affected residents was that he knew it would someday happen when he moved to the area fourteen years before.  Volcanoes aren't good neighbors but for some people, the appeal of living in a tropical paradise outweighs the risk of having to walk away.  The island's volcanoes are, generally, a disaster you can escape afoot and often, an industrious person with a wheelbarrow could get most of their belongings away, too; living comfortably as I do in a city that could find itself in sorry shape if the New Madrid fault* decided to let go again, I haven't any room to criticize Hawaiians for living on the edge of potentially lava-spewing lands.

     CBS, on the other hand, has lost their thesaurus, or perhaps it has slipped the leash.  In reporting the eruption, they delivered this gem:   

     "Volcano officials said they couldn't predict how long Thursday's eruption might last."

     I've been looking and I can't find any executive-level members of the management of Kilauea Volcano; the place doesn't even seem to have a press office!  The island is well awash in vulcanologists; the U.S. Geological Survey is all over it and they even have a Hawaiian Volcano Observatory staffed with highly qualified geophysicists and geologists and managers and techs and janitors and so on.  But volcano officials?  Not a one.  It's almost as if the things were a natural phenomenon!

     I'm tempted to regard this as an example of the actual unconscious bias in the news business: the notion that if there's something happening, someone must be in charge of it.
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* In looking that up, I encountered the Wabash Valley Seismic Zone, much closer to home.  Not terribly comforting -- and don't get too comfortable where you are, either.  This beautiful planet is a dangerous place.

A Clue! A Clue!

     Indiana politics can be strange, and never stranger than when our Democrats -- who are generally not much less rural than this very rural state -- are trying to charm voters with Good Old Hoosier Values.

     Oh, they're not being especially disingenuous; most Indiana Democrats (Rep. Andre Carson excepted) are about aligned with the average New York or California Republican on many key issues.  But this is Indiana and thus even in a primary, some demur at mentioning their actual party.

     I've mentioned Winnebago-driving Senator Joe Donelly, the man who dares not speak his party's name and who the GOP is pretty sure they can replace, if only Mssrs. Rokita, Braun and Messer can get the voters to figure out which one of them is President Trump-loving, anti-abortion, wall-building and swamp-draining enough to become the Junior Senator from Indiana.

     Indiana's Ninth Congressional District is another interesting race, with GOP incumbent Trey Hollingsworth facing a challenge from inside his own party and three Democrats vying to fill the other side of the ballot.  One of the latter's been running an interesting ad with nary a mention of her party, beginning, "For five generations, my family helped build Indiana.  Each one did a little better than the last...," a fine tale of upward mobility.  She continues, "I've spent a career fighting in the courts and to change laws and to level the playing field," language a bit mangled but hey, she's in there fighting for the little guy.  She goes on to accuse the incumbent of having, "...rigged the system against us," so, she's running against the GOP incumbent in the primary? Wait, what's her party affiliation?  And then she follows with "I believe affordable healthcare is a right...." Ah, not in the Republican primary, then.  But not one word about her in-party competitors for the same job, let alone what party that might be.  Maybe she's a Whig?  Nope.

     On the one hand, I admire her refraining from internecine mudslinging; on the other, Indiana doesn't have open primaries, so people getting the primary ballot that includes her aren't going to be voting for Congressman Hollingsworth -- he's not among the choices!

     And never once does the word "D-m-cr-t" pass her lips.  Aw, c'mon outta that closet, at least for your own party's primary!

Spring Beauty

     That's the name of the tiny white flowers that, along with a profusion of wild violets, cover the front yard here at Roseholme Cottage, along with much of the back yard.  They're why I delay the first lawn mowing of the year, too.  The violets come back but Spring Beauty declines considerably after it has been mowed.

     I have been out with my old-fashioned dandelion puller, waging slightly-futile war with the lawn-dragon; I like them, but they are prolific and would take over if left unchecked.  So, too, would the Winter Creeper that lurks along the fences around the back yard, snaking tentacles toward the garage and trying to climb the hackberry tree.  Keeping after it takes constant work.  (There's "Creeping Charlie," too, with a square stem, ruffled semi-circular leaves and an appealing aroma when cut, but it's better-behaved and has been used as a spice; I don't bother it much unless it goes after the tree.)

     But it's worth it.  I have yards full of flowers, for a very little effort.  I need to get some more topsoil and replant the wildflowers in the front flower bed.  Tam has been hinting about clearing the back raised bed for vegetables -- and time's a-wasting!  It's got a lot of violets, a lot of leaves, and a patch of half-wild green onions we'll probably want to keep.

     Winter might finally be over.

Goin' To The Candidates Debate

     Last night was the third of three debates among the Republicans running for the U. S. Senate seat presently occupied by Democrat (though he hates to admit when he's home) Joe Donnelly.

     It has been an ugly campaign.  Each man has been trying to run to the Right of the other two, a process in which shoving your opponent Left works just as well -- and that is, perhaps, good, since they're running out of room on the Right.

     They ran out of truth quite some time ago, but their supply of factiods, inferences and accusations about one another appears to be inexhaustible.

     And meanwhile, Just Plain Joe runs ads with himself at the wheel of a Winnebago,* tieless, opened-collared, smiling broadly and talking about Just Plan Hoosier Values.  Does he believe in them when he's in Washington?  ...As long as his party doesn't yank his chain, sure; but make no mistake, he knows what party he's in when it counts.

     And meanwhile, the GOP's Three Stooges are falling all over themselves to each be a bigger booster of Mr. Trump than the other two, which again is a process in which you score just as many points if you show your primary opponents haven't been onboard the Trump train as early, often or unreservedly as yourself.  They're all just shy of swearing personal-loyalty oaths, and they might get that far by Election Day.

     It doesn't strike me as a good sign.  I don't think there's a dime's worth of difference between them, and even if you threw Senator Donnelly into the soup pot and boiled them all down, there's wouldn't be enough gravitas among the group to move a feather, nor sufficient substance to float one.

     Come the general election, I am considering writing in for one of the orangutans at the Indianapolis Zoo.  Azy looks like a good bet -- he has fair computer skills, is considered the "peacemaker" of the group, enjoys meeting new people and it appears he wouldn't be easily intimidated.  That's already greater qualifications for the job than the incumbent and his challengers have demonstrated.  Or perhaps Katy, another computer-literate problem-solver, and she gets along well with men, a prime asset in Congress.  But would six years in the U. S. Senate be fair to either one? 

     Probably not.  We're going to have to send one of the human fools angling for the job off to the Senate.  I'm hoping the Libertarians will run someone for the office, preferably someone sane; I'll vote for 'em but an orangutan would have a better chance of winning.

     And I'd expect it would run a better campaign than we've seen so far, too.

     Political analysis by Simon & Garfunkel:
     [...]
     Going to the candidates' debate
     Laugh about it, shout about it
     When you've got to choose
     Every way you look at this you lose
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* Or some other big RV.  Many brands are built in northern Indiana, and you can count on his team to have picked one of them.  That little touch should be a warning to whoever goes against him this Fall.