Retired porn star
January 15, 2009
The old woman glared at us. “I’d LIKE to get into my room, if you don’t mind.”
Mom was washing Dad’s hair (Dad broke his pelvis and is pretty much immobilized in a rehab/nursing center right now), so I tooled on out to the hallway where the old lady waited impatiently in her wheelchair. As I approached, her eyes widened a bit in alarm. She said something quietly and essayed a tentative smile.
Ctrl-Alt-Delete. Repeat.
January 14, 2009
Computer users are a remarkably forgiving lot. Mobile phone users are not, so why is the iPhone 3G, with its lousy phone service, such a success?
Because we’re treating it like a computer, not a phone.
Nevereverland
January 13, 2009
Sometimes, navigating the US healthcare system is a tad surreal.
F’rinstance: I’m on hold with the hospital, explaining (in a polite way) that I need to initiate repairs to my father’s botched medical care and record-keeping. He fell off a ladder while repairing the garage door opener, broke his pelvis in two places, split his tailbone open, bounced his frontal lobe off the concrete floor and is in a world of serious hurt and confusion.
Hospital told my parents that Medicare doesn’t cover this sort of thing, Mom could certainly watch him as well as they, and sent Dad home over Mom’s protests. Won’t go into details but it was a nightmare that ended with my Dad on the floor. Visiting nurse came the next day, was horrified that Dad had been discharged in his condition, and sent him back. Hospital bounced Dad to a nursing home where he remains, and Medicare apparently feels that Dad’s detour home frees them from paying for it.
So I hit up the hospital’s website, find a number for “Patient Advocate/Patient Relations” and call it. Snippy receptionist informs me that she’s TRYing to help me but there *is* no patient advocate at this hospital (!) and “you really need to take responsibility for your own care.” Then she puts me on hold.
So here I sit, waiting for the next automaton to help me with my responsibility problem, while the hospital muzak cheerily plays Hakuna Matata, the theme song from Disney’s The Lion King. And I start laughing like a loon.
Hakuna Matata, in English, means No problem.*
Yeah, right.
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Well, literally:
- Matata is Swahili for Problems
- Kuna is the equivalent of There are
- Ha- modifies -Kuna in the negative, i.e., There are not
- So Ha-kuna Matata translates to There are no problems, but in usage it’s more like the Australian No worries, mate.
Work on stuff that matters
January 12, 2009
Every once in awhile I’m reminded of the original purpose of a blog (WebLog, that is): To comment on interesting stuff you find on the Web.
When three separate sources pointed to the same Tim O’Reilly post, I figured it was worth a read (and, anyway, I like the man and his company very much). Interesting stuff.
To sum it up, kinda: Riotously successful entities start out with impossibly lofty, outward-facing ambitions. At some point they turn inward and start hoarding their own success, instead of continuing toward the goal. If they can’t get back to that outward-facing PoV, they grow moribund and eventually die.
Wonder if this guy’s read Gibbon’s History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire? Hmmm.
Ant trails
January 10, 2009
While I find hive minds fascinating–great example of a truly organic computer–I’d much rather they stayed out in the wilderness. In particular, Tapinoma sessile, the Odiferous House Ant, should really be going home now.
The antmind disagrees, and has instructed its peripherals to think of my home as theirs. Until recently this took the form of a trickle of tiny nuisance ants in the bathroom, off and on. It’s not like I do antly things in there but Mom says they’re after the soap.
Thank heavens the snow is gone…
January 4, 2009
It’s well-known that it never snows after Christmas in Portland, Oregon.
Yeah, right. Would someone please come shovel all that cold, wet dandruff off my deck?
Lower 48
January 4, 2009
“I’ve got a list of license plates,” the tow truck guy growled, “of guys who’ve flipped me off or rolled down their windows and called me names. Someday, ma’am, one of those jerks is gonna need a tow, and I’ll just let ‘em sit there. “
He finished hitching up Max, my usually trusty Maxima, and started winching him in. Max’s electronics had reeled and died on a windy Portland hill after sundown, just past a busy, dark and dangerous curve. I was shivering by the time Max was finally up on his haunches and secured to the tow truck, while a long line of drivers honked and glared and inched past us.
San Francisco Tienda Mexicana
January 2, 2009
- No website (or real reviews)
Address: 8750 SW Citizens Drive #A (behind the Arby’s)
Phone: 503-582-1690 - Location: Wilsonville, OR
- Price to stuff two people for lunch: $12
OK, that’s the second time I’ve been fooled in Wilsonville. Contrary to my (admittedly snooty) attitude regarding suburban dining, i.e., a useless whitebread collection of fastfood chainglop restaurants you shouldn’t park a car next to, let alone eat in, Wilsonville hides some real dining treasures.
This time Sara and I headed out to lunch and someone recommended San Francisco Tienda. “It’s surprisingly authentic, so long as you’re not put off by the fact that it’s really a butcher shop.”
I was immediately skeptical: The last time I heard the word “authentic” paired with “Mexican restaurant,” I experienced a gen-oo-wine-ly “authentic” Mexican place in Boston. Externally, it met the criteria: Hole in the wall (check), huge line waiting to get in (check), nice smells from the kitchen (check), reasonable prices (check). But…ketchup instead of salsa, Boston baked beans in the tacos. Yeah. Authentic. Right.
But this place in Wilsonville is hitting authentic–and delicious–on all cylinders.
It ain’t fancy, but the owners definitely know how to cook. It’s actually an Hispanic grocery store (the “tienda” part), with a full butcher shop in the back. The restaurant is an afterthought, a few small tables beneath a vast canopy of celebrity piñatas, off to the right behind a home-made plywood partition. You walk up to the meat counter, peruse the menu signboard, place your order, add a nice glass of tamarindo.
Our food took maybe 10 minutes to arrive, hot, home-made and fresh. I had a huarache, $4.95, sole-shaped layers of fried masa and tortilla (a huarache is an open-toed sandal), topped with plenty of greens and tomatoes, guacamole, delicious marinated steak, tangy traditional Mexican cheese and nicely spicy choice of salsas. I (barely) refrained from licking the plate.
Sara got adventurous with corn tacos made with chicken and ceviche, which she said were equally delicious. It was relaxed, easygoing and tasty. I will definitely be back. I might check out the butcher shop, too and, by the way, they cater.
Happy New(ish) Year!
January 1, 2009
So….2008 lasted a second too long* and now, at last, it’s 2009. Thank heavens.
I’m not saying that 2008 was a bad year–I don’t believe in such things–but I doubt that history books will do much raving about its fabulosity, either. Maybe I should say it’s been an interesting year.
World-wise, this appears to be a great time to be alive…if you’re into poverty, armed conflict and disease. Lots and lots and lots of bright lights up ahead, of course, and I’ll be very interested to see if we actually flipped US leadership on its head enough to really change anything. My heart says yes, my head says “you’ve gotta be kidding,” so we’ll see who’s right.
Professionally, got back to my roots a bit, met a lot of nice and extremely competent people, and learned an amazing amount about everything from running a really varied marcomm program to integrating social/e-commerce/blog/mobile websites. I even got to step into the breech and do a bunch of photography–my images are being used in international ads!!!–which is an unexpected first.
I’m still not sure of the next step, particularly with this economy, but I’m learning to relax and enjoy the journey. Considering that my friend Jan once said she could sum up my personality in nine words–”I want it now and I want it delivered!”–that’s saying quite a bit.
Personally, on the plus side I’m happy with the direction of my art, and I got to do a LOT of artsy stuff. I attended my first Glass Art Society conference (and had a ball), I made lots of new glass artist friends, put friendly faces to a lot of folks I only knew from online, and cemented old friendships. I renewed my love of casting, I figured out that I was a gen-u-wine sculptor and got validation in that from several unexpected sources, and my old friend pate de verre and I got tighter than ever. I finally broke through my own personal color barrier and found out that my heartwork actually sells pretty well…if I can bear to part with it.
Happily, I kept two important 2008 resolutions:
- I marched into the glass, photography and sculpture communities and got involved, and I submitted both sculpture and photography to multiple exhibit venues–did surprisingly well.
- I promised to write at least one significant piece for each week of 2008 and I’ve kept that promise. The payoff: My writing muscles are staying well and truly lubed and my brain is in the groove.
But probably best of all, in 2008 I got to really wallow in this whole friends-and-family thing. I haven’t had so many loved ones this geographically (or virtually) close since college, and the more I have it, the more of it I want. Thanks to all of you for just being there.
In the true spirit of procrastination, I haven’t come up with a whole lot of resolutions for 2009. Maybe I will…or maybe I’ll just play the whole year by ear.
Happy New Year, folks!
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*Powers-that-be needed to correct a “leap second” problem and so the last minute of 2008 had 61 seconds, not the usual 60. I’m tempted to say something snide about how they just had to prolong the agony, but I won’t…