Saturday, February 16, 2013

Mystified again...

I am confused again.  That happens a lot, perhaps just because I am a simple boy and don't understand things well, but this is causing me to wonder.
Years ago, downtown Birmingham was Shopping Central.  All the big stores were there, from the discount stores (S.S. Kresge) to the the high-line fashion centers (Parisian, Blach's, etc) with a huge Sears & Roebuck prominent in the mix.  As urban sprawl took over, shopping downtown became inconvenient - it was a long distance downtown from the 'burbs, if one rode the streetcars [later busses] it was difficult to bring one's shopping home, if one drove to downtown, parking was insufficient and expensive, etc, etc.
Retailers responded with the Shopping Center out toward the 'burbs - strip centers offering free parking, stores in one area, and much convenience for suburban shoppers.  The strip centers were not perfect of course, one disadvantage being exposure to weather while moving from store to store.
The next development solved many problems - the Mall.  Malls had the free parking, large numbers of diverse stores in one place, including the big names from downtown, and offered a weather-protected, comfortable environment for shopping.  Most offered a food court with passable food items, and it was possible to transfer purchases to the car during the shopping runs.  Nice.
Change happens, of course, and these huge shopping venues must eventually relocate due to changing demographics.  Two of the "new" venues in my area are the Pinnacle and the Summit.  Disturbing to me, though, is that these flashy new structures are - strip centers.  The free parking is still there, but we are back to an open environment, with sidewalk access between the stores, unprotected from weather.  The food courts are now stand-alone restaurants scattered about the edges of the parking areas, requiring long walks in the heat, rain, etc to reach them.  Is this not taking a step backward?
Back in 1960, the first mall in Alabama, and the second enclosed shopping mall in the southeast, was Eastwood Mall in Birmingham, a revolutionary idea at the time, and a destination for shoppers from all over the state, and as far away as Atlanta and Chattanooga.  Changing demographics and mismanagement led to the closing of the mall in the late 1990s, and it was razed, and replaced with a Wal-Mart supercenter, with a large surrounding - strip center. [sigh]

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

I am such a fossil... [sigh]

I was having a bout of what I call "terminal insomnia" last night (one of the ironies of congestive heart failure is that we are tired all the time, but have problems sleeping), and I was reflecting on what a Luddite I am these days.
My "cage" (motorscooter rider term) is a 1993 S-10 pickup with nearly 200k miles, but it is maintained, reliable, and suits my purposes just fine. I do need to drive it a bit more often, though, to keep it exercised (another motorscooter rider thing).
My watch is a water-resistant Timex that gives me the time on a clear dial.

My cellphone is a phone.  It makes and receives calls very well.  I don't text, I don't do Facebook checkins from wherever I am, I don't check my email while I am out and about.  I actually had an otherwise-intelligent lady ask me "You don't text?  How can I let you know when we decide on a time for the meeting?".  She was truly mystified, and when I told her "You dial the number, and when I answer, tell me the time for the meeting",  she looked confused.

I still carry a Palm PDA, the old type with the little black-and-white screen, and the flip cover.  Keeps me on time. The strange-looking ball point pen thing is a retractable stylus to carry in my shirt pocket, because my creaky hands, these days, have a rough time handling the tiny little stylus that came with the Palm. I also have the Palm folding portable keyboard for text entry.

I have always had fine motor control issues with my hands, made worse in recent years by my joint issues, and my handwriting has always sucked, so I am big on keyboards.  I developed my typing skills using two fingers, the index finger on my left hand and middle finger on the right , and still use that method.  I stick with it because it works, and through the years, from the point at which I adopted the typewriter as a mere kidlet, I have typed probably more than a million words in this manner. 
In the truck, just in case I get in a true bind for hard copy, I still carry a portable manual typewriter.

My daughter has a small tablet computer, and I have not yet gotten into that mode.  I do, however, have a tiny Dell netbook with a broken screen, and am thinking of possibly repairing that, and carrying it to give me wifi access when I go places.  It is compact enough (9" screen) that it is easily carry-able, even on the scooters, and has about a 5-hour battery life on a charge.  We will see.

Monday, January 21, 2013

An update...

I have committed to a couple of people to update this thing more frequently, so a general update for now, and soon a return to general discussion and my usual token bitching.
On the upside, our daughter has finally grown weary of a useless boyfriend and northern winters, and has moved back from Illinois.  She is staying with us for a while to finish her MEd degree online, and do some student teaching with the target of doing science teaching in high-school, to the pierced and tattooed mall-rats and slackers who infest public schools these days.  Brave lady.  She did a practicum day Friday at her old alma-mater, and had mixed impressions.  She will have one more day there, teaching a class as opposed to observing, and is arranging another similar journey with a Title 1 high school elsewhere in the county. 
As to myself, on a less optimistic note, my health seems to be continuing its slow decline, but I am fighting it at every flank.  The weather has been harder on me both physically and psychically than last year, but I am adapting.  The battery powering my pacemaker/defibrillator is weakening, and will probably need replacement in a couple months, but I am told that the more current model will be better, so we will see.
Due to stump issues, the scooters remain at rest for now on the battery maintainers, but continue to call to me.  The Elite has cooling issues, but those will be addressed in time for warm-weather riding.  The Silver Wing continues to become more difficult for me to handle, and I realize that I must must seriously seek a way to finance a training-wheel kit for it.  I am leaning toward the Go-Pac kit.  This is a major step for me, and in many ways another depressing nod to my deteriorating condition, but I had rather be on the road.  We will see.

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Recommended Reading

I am a long-time (40+ years) motorcycle rider, and have been subtly shaped by that activity/hobby/lifestyle over the years, including my reading habits.  I must recommend two riders/authors that I have read, and find their work quite satisfying to my tastes.
The first is Daniel Meyer, author of several notable works.  I have met Daniel on several occasions at motorcycle-related events, and had the privilege of talking with him.  Daniel is a man's man, and a straight-up, totally direct individual.
Daniel has five published works, one fiction and four non-fiction, all wonderfully enjoyable.  His books are available from anywhere you buy books, but I recommend that you purchase directly from him, as that will contribute a few more cents to the author himself.  The website is  lifeisaroad.com , and I recommend his work enthusiastically.
 




The next is Jack Riepe, the character responsible for the Twisted Roads blog.  I have just finished reading his latest, "Conversations With a Motorcycle".  It is a totally honest part autobiography, part humor work, much of the humor at the expense of Jack himself, as he describes his motorcycle beginnings on a Japanese street bike in blue-collar New Jersey.  Totally honest, totally fun, and a read that many riders and non-riders alike can understand and find their own youth reflected therein.  Highly recommended.  Contact Jack at  jack.riepe@gmail.com , and order up.

Both of these guys are competent, heartfelt writers, and care about their readers, and both offer hand-autographed and personalized copies.  Get 'em.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Culture On The Skids, and why FaceBook is History...

I saw a post the other night promoting an appearance by the music group "Southern Culture On The Skids". 
I like the group, and enjoy their music, but their group name stirred up a thought.  One of my FaceBook friends posted "Why do so many young women these days talk in a "croaky" voice, as if imitating a frog? I know I'm an old fossil, but (to me) frog-voice isn't very compelling. If you wanna hear a sexy voice, check out one of this lady's movies..", followed by a black-and-white peak-of-her-career photo of Lauren Bacall.  I, being also a fossil, remember her movies, and yes, she had the voice.
I commented "And who is telling them that piercings are attractive?", which prompted a comment from a young lady, whom I do not know, "Also, Clifton, my piercing a are cute as FUCK. :-P" (sic).
There was, of course, a profile pic, and no, young woman, you are not, though you may be absent the overstated make-up, and the lip, nose, and eyebrow hardware.  Her reply however, with her vocabulary and poor sentence structure, are indicative of those who think that the piercings ARE attractive.
Our culture, indeed, is on the skids.  I have noticed, as you may have also, that in the recent presidential campaign, Mitt Romney was concentrating his campaign on idealogical grounds, but the Barack Obama campaign was continuously attacking Romney, not as a conservative, nor on idealogical grounds, but portraying him as an evil capitalist. 
The same seems common in many aspects these days - have you noticed how many movie villains these days are portrayed as rich capitalists, or officers of some evil huge corporation?  This is a reflection of our public education system in recent decades, which we have handed off to fools and charlatans.  Those who have money are evil, unless, of course, they are good caring liberals.  In the original James Bond movies, the ones based on the novels of Ian Fleming, the villains were, in some way or other, an aspect of the Soviet Union.  I notice that in the recent productions, the bad guys are some sort of capitalist or corporate entity.  I grow weary.
At any rate, Facebook, which started out as mostly students at what once were institutions of higher learning, have taken the path of cellphones when they began to offer texting and ringtones; it has filtered down to the bottom layer, and is not long for my menu of computer uses.  'Bye guys; it's been real...

Friday, September 14, 2012

A 50-year comparison

An old friend of mine has bought a piece of property, including a couple of storage buildings, one containing a 1963 Ford Falcon 4-door sedan.  It has 1971 plates on it, so it has been sitting that long, and shows just under 33000 miles.  He has no idea why it was parked here, nor does the former owner, who inherited the property from his parents, and does not remember the Falcon.  Tom has done some basic examination of the thing, and considers it fixable with much elbow grease and minimum money, so he is going to take it on as a project next spring.  It is, of course, his now, as before 1974 Alabama had no title law.
This being the 2013 model year, I thought I would generate a comparison to today's vehicular standards.
First, the Falcon.  The original window sticker (what is left of it), was in an envelope in the glove box, and is mostly readable.  It is a local car, purchased from Adamson Ford in Birmingham.  The options listed on the sticker are heater/defroster (optional), AM radio (optional), front lap seat belts (optional), and outside rearview mirrors (optional).  In those days, A/C, power steering, and power brakes were not available on the base model Falcon.  The optional AM radio in Tom's car is tube-type, and still actually works, though poorly, through a single speaker in the top of the dash.  The optional outside mirrors are not remote-controlled, and are adjusted by grabbing them and moving them to where needed.  The floor is rubber mats, and the seats are vinyl - anyone old enough to have lived through a winter or summer with vinyl seats is cringing right now.  The transmission is a 3-on-the-tree manual, the engine a 144 ci inline six with a one-barrel carb.  The dashboard is all metal, and full of sharp pointy knobs and things.  The windows are not tinted, so it is hell in hot weather.  This car required a "tune-up" about every 10,000 miles, with replacement of points, condenser, distributor cap, and rotor, and adjusting of ignition timing and carb.  Aligning the front end was recommended at the same time.  Polishing and waxing were required to keep the paint shiny and protected from the sun.  There was no warranty for rust-through.
The sticker price for this high-maintenance roller was $2228, which is, in today's battered dollarettes, $16774.
So, in these modern times, what will this price buy?
Oddly enough, it will still buy you a small base-model 4-door Ford sedan, The Focus S.  So how does today's little roller compare to the Falcon, 50 years later?
You still get a small engine and manual transmission, but these days, you get carpet, fiber upholstery, tinted glass, heater/defroster and outside mirrors as standard equipment.  Standard equipment, on the Focus S, also includes: A/C, AM/FM stereo radio with four speakers, three-point seat belts, front and side air bags, crush zones, an engine that does not require tune-ups (although replacement of the timing belt is required at 60,000 miles), more power and much better mileage than the Falcon, speed-sensitive power steering, cruise control, stability and traction control, power brakes with 4-wheel ABS on its fade resistant disc brakes, longer-lasting radial tires, front power windows, rust-through warranty, and clear-coat paint that does not require waxing.
I'll stick with today's offering...

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Finally able to post...

As I get older, and my health slowly deteriorates, I find my outlook changing, and many things that I used to consider inconveniences are now starting to royally piss me off.
 I am typing this in a text editor on my computer, because my internet service (DSL) has folded up, and I no longer have service. It is not a matter of the system here in the house being overtaxed - we have DSL-only service; no TV, no landline phone, no anything else, just internet service. Not now, however. This pisses me off.
I am pissed off by a growing number of young people, who apparently think that piercings are attractive. They are not, kids. One of these was recently angry that he was unable to find a job. Considering the red and green reptile tatooed around his neck, and the nose ring, who besides him was surprised? Another had a 20-hour-a-week job in a taco joint, and was angry that he did not have health coverage. That is how entry-level jobs work, kids. These kids piss me off.
 The Zombie fad pisses me off. If you think that the dead walk among us eating the brains of the living, seek professional help, and stop pissing me off.
If you think that every happening of every day is an evil conspiracy of the government, the Klan, the Masonic order, the Central Bank, the Bilderburgers, or whoever, seek professional help. I have worked for government, been a union member, have long-time friends in banking, organized religion, and the Masonic orders, and I assure you that none of these entities, collectively, are competent enough to pull off a grand secret conspiracy. Stop pissing me off.
 No political party is your kindly daddy, and none of them cares about you in any constructive way. If you elect Democrats, the entire nation is not going to become a communist collective. If you elect Republicans, you are not going to become a poverty-level victim of rampant evil plantation owners. If you elect tea-partiers, probably nothing will happen, because the movement is not organized enough to print up decent leaflets. I have best heard Congress described by Lewis Black as a bowl of manure staring at itself in a mirror. So stop trying to tell me that your particular party is the end-all-be-all of political salvation, because you are wrong, and you are pissing me off.
 And get off my lawn!