WordPress, when 140 Characters Are Not Enough

I finally got some time and sat down to write a couple of posts.

One post was on my twenty years experience with mobile (cell) phones. The second was some thoughts on WW I as the 100 year anniversary of its start is next year.

I had gotten nearly 3000 words for each topic down, I had some good photos added when the damn WordPress program crashed and I lost both posts. Screw it.

It’s times like this I miss the old MySpace wherein I could post thousands of words, add some video, photos and read the comments.

WordPress is just awful. For shame. Your app suck-diddley-uks. I’m gonna give up on this and just get another cup of coffee. I’ll post after the next WordPress update “fixes” the crashing problems.

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Snapshot From the Past

Back in the 1980s I had the great fortune of traveling to Scotland for work. I’d work from nine a.m. to four-thirty p.m. and had weekends free. I was working out of East Kilbride which is sort of between Glasgow and Edinburgh. I stayed in a great hotel with a grand name: The Crutherland Country House Hotel. The place was great. I may have been young way back then, but I still had a great appreciation for being there. I mean, we homo sapiens have lived in that part of the world for a very long time. I truly felt that sense of history when I went to Scotland.

I am from California, third generation actually, so really old things are not the norm. Sure, there are missions and forts (from my hometown, Sutter’s fort) and such but nothing really as what is still standing in the UK. It was a rather short drive from my hotel south to Hadrian’s Wall. (Hadrian’s Wall–a fortification built by the Romans to keep the Scots out.) If I decided to go north I’d end up in Loch Ness, the home of the monster. I went there as well, no monster seen but still rather attractive place to visit. I found it interesting that it was not very wide but it is rather long.

Between the two cities I found an abandoned cottage that caught my eye. I had my Minolta X-700 camera loaded with Tri-X Pan film, a rare (for me) 36 exposure roll. I just had to photograph that cottage. Given that film needed to be developed, using a 36 exposure roll was a big deal. Typically I’d shoot a 24 roll as it was less expensive to have developed. Still, I was very careful with the shots as I’d have to pay the same for a good shot as a bad one. So please consider one of those shots from my 1980s trip to Scotland.

Until again.

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Per Viam

Greetings potential readers. This is the first blog I am trying to maintain since I gave up on MySpace. I hope that WordPress will satisfy me as writer and you as reader.

I have quite a bit of thoughts that run around my brain as I make my way through the day. Some things were at first shocking or odd when first seen, but after repeated exposure I find I am able to really SEE what they mean. Let me provide an example:

In my local grocery store I can usually find the same fellow in the parking lot. He has a late nineties Dodge Neon, in white. That in itself is not odd, what is odd is that on the trunk lid he has four diet Coke cans lined up in a row. He stands there wearing the same outfit (kaki pants, white collared shirt, suede slip-on shoes with no socks and a dirty light brown parka) regardless if it is cold or over one hundred degrees. His hair is slowly going from black to white and reaches past his shoulders. He stays in the parking lot drinking the soda and smoking cigarettes, one for each can.

Since I usually go to the store on the same time on the same day, I see this fellow. One time he was in front of me in line. He had purchased a twelve pack of diet Coke, again, not odd. However, he was taking them out of the box so they would roll on the conveyor belt. Oh yes, they were warm. The clerk rang up each can then voided it and rang up the paper box UPC code. I don’t know why he does this but he does.

It was much later that I found out he was the primary care provider for his Alzheimer stricken mother. I guess his soda break was a way to relieve stress. So instead of a nutter, I see a son taking a break for himself. That I can understand, that I get.

Until again.