Thursday Slump

There's just something about Thursdays that catch me short. The week is more than half over and I'm looking forward to the weekend, but I frequently experience an unexplained slump in outlook.

This picture has nothing to do with today's post, but I liked the little guy and wanted to share. I took his portrait on one of my walks around the neighborhood.

Turning Into a Number

We have passwords and user ID's for all sorts of accounts, car payments, house payments, credit cards, work access, blogging, email, Facebook and myriad other applications. And we mustn't forget PIN's for debit cards, phone banking and who knows what else. We're warned not to use the same ones for everything, but how are you supposed to remember which password is for which account?

In addition, using your spouse's, kid's or pet's name is taboo. You should never include a loved one's birthday, phone number or Social Security number. Obviously writing passwords on a Post-It-Note and sticking it to your monitor is stupid, but I've seen it done. So, do you write them on a cryptic note and place it under the lining of your shoe?

Why not just give us a universal microchip to flash whenever or wherever needed? They do it for cattle. No more passwords. No more user ID's. No more passports. No more security badges for work. No more debit cards with their inherent PIN's. No more screwing up account access with the wrong password and user ID combination.

ObamaCare could be keyed on your microchip. Dishonest doctors and care givers would have more problems falsifying treatment. We might even get a handle on those who have no legal right to health care...or to be in this country in the first place. No chip...no care. If you tie Social Security to the microchip, maybe those enterprising souls who file for benefits on dead people would be stopped once and for all.

But, you say, this smacks of big brother. Of course it does. Unfortunately it looks like this is the fate our great country is headed for. The more freebies we demand from the government, the more we are being regarded as a number. I for one, plan to go down fighting tooth and nail. I may not win, but I can be heard!

Growing Old

Growing old is a lot like having kids. Nobody gives lessons, there's no instruction book or learner's permit and nobody tells you the truth. Sure I heard that growing old isn't for sissies, but damn, that doesn't begin to sum up the indignities of aging. Golden years, my behind!

Body parts that we never knew we had, hurt or fail to operate with normal use. Hair grows on your chin and falls off your head. Ugly brown "liver" spots miraculously appear on your hands. Your feet can suddenly grow a half size and those pants you've worn for the past couple of years shrink in your closet. Not to mention that your nose and ears continue to grow forever.

Myopic eyes (near sighted) never pass 20-20 on their roller coaster ride to presbyopic. Bifocals, or trifocals become the norm with no guarantee that you'll ever be able to read the fine print.

If you're lucky, you still have your teeth, but who cares because your stomach refuses to digest in the requisite manner. Let's not even go there when it comes to other digestive functions.

Add insult to injury, your boss refers to you as the senior whatever, and then has to explain that he didn't mean your age. During your review, he asks when do you plan to hang it up.

But...I suppose it beats the alternative plan.

Fall-Sort Of

Labor Day in north Texas was glorious. Mid to high 80's. We were lulled into thinking that fall was finally on the way. Wrong! Fall doesn't arrive in Texas until October or November. One week later, it's winter.

Weekend Repairs

My son called me about noon on Saturday. He needed help replacing the kitchen sink and faucet. Of course, I said yes. Something like that is always easier with two people. I didn't bother to mention to him how much I hate plumbing.

We ran over to Home Depot to pick up what we needed, then headed to his house. Everything went well until it was time to re-install the garbage disposal. I'd done this several years back but couldn't remember all the steps. We turned to the the Internet for help. Who knew that the proper placement of a rubber gasket could be so crucial?

Well, now he has a beautiful new sink, and I'm jealous. I have one of those stainless steel pieces of junk and I hate it. I also have bruises all over my side where I was laying under the sink. Damn! This getting old sucks.