Blog #345                      October 19, 2023

 

My heart is devastated.  My spirit is suffocated by the volume of hatred, ignorance and evil that is everywhere.  And it’s not just Hamas or Iran.  It’s the protestors at Harvard and in New York and Chicago and even in Congress.  I am distraught and struggling to endure this much darkness.  As Eric Adams, Mayor of New York City, said in a powerful speech, “We are not alright.”

 

Hi there and welcome back.  I hope you’re feeling well.  I apologize for starting us off with such a downer this week, but thank you for being there to listen.  I know you are suffering too.  Maybe we can talk about some lighter topics for a while to take our minds off these dismal and frightening times.  First, let me assure you that I am alive and well.  Last Saturday, my wife got an email sent to few girls informing them that Michael Fox had died during the night.  That’s really what it said.  Actually, it was a man named Michael Wolf who passed away, but the sender got her canines confused.  As Mark Twain once remarked after seeing his obituary in a newspaper, “The reports of my death are greatly exaggerated.”   

 

This morning, when I opened my iPhone, I saw this message:  Last night, when we were pretty sure you were asleep, without your permission, knowledge or consent, we invaded your iPhone and changed everything.  We call this an update.  Everything that you finally learned how to do will now look totally different and you will have to call your children to show you where it all went.  Plus, you have to sign up for Apple Pay.  We don’t care if you don’t want it, don’t understand it and will never use it.  If you don’t sign up for it, we will hide the pictures of your grandchildren in a folder you will never find and post a naked picture of you on Instagram.  Thank you for using Apple.

 

Sometimes, technology frustrates me.  The other day, I was home alone, relaxing, reading and writing, when I heard a phone ring.  It wasn’t mine – mine sounds like a phone ringing, just like all phones used to sound in the G.O.D. (Good Old Days).    Carol’s phone sounds like a tidal wave splashing onto a dog who has just swallowed a xylophone.  And that’s what I heard.  She must have left her phone at home.  Either that or there was a wet, choking dog somewhere in the house.

 

Challenge #1 -- Find the phone.  This is not trivial.  In the G.O.D., you knew where the phone was.  It was attached to the wall.  Now, it could be under the covers, under the bed, in the litter box, in the trash can, in her underwear drawer.  I commenced a search for the coughing, barking object.  I started in the underwear drawer (that’s where I always start), then followed my ears until I located it on the seventh bark -- on the bed four feet from me.

 

Challenge #2 -- Turn on the phone.  Once again, not trivial.  In the G.O.D., you picked up the damn thing and spoke.  Every phone was the same.  You knew where it was, you went there, you picked it up and said hello.  Simple.  Now every phone has a pass code or fingerprint or eye recognition or yoga mantra.  I tried activating it by shouting loud obscenities at it?  I tried that several times, but it didn’t help.  And this is supposed to make our lives easier?  I threw it into the underwear drawer and went back to work.

 

I know Carol will tell me not to use the underwear drawer reference, but I was just adding a little sexual innuendo for your amusement.  And no, innuendo is not the Italian word for anal intercourse.  Shame on you.  It means a remark that hints or suggests some impropriety.  It was our Weekly Word about a year ago.  Have you forgotten already?  I did use the word distraught earlier.  It means deeply upset and agitated.  So that will be our Weekly Word.

 

Back to my frustration with technology.  My car is a 2010.  I like it.  It gets me where I want to go, even if I take the wrong exit.  It doesn’t have a touch-screen or a blue-tooth or an electric engine or a back-up camera or a remote this-or-that.  My daughter and her family were at an out-of-town wedding and I needed to pick them up at the airport.  We would not all fit in my car, but she has an SUV that would be perfect.  I was as nervous as a fly at a tarantula convention.  What if I couldn’t figure out how to start her SUV or shift gears or put on the A/C?  Some months ago, a friend who was out of town asked me to do something with his new car that had all the bells and whistles and cameras and screens.  I sat in the driver’s seat, as still as a yard jockey, feeling as useless as Will Smith’s booking agent.  I had to call my friend and have him lead me through the complicated process of starting his car and finding reverse.

 

I’ve not had a new car in years

And I can’t start it up or shift gears

I feel like a dolt

In a ’23 Bolt

And a hybrid just brings me to tears.

 

Luckily, another friend of mine volunteered to go with me to get my daughter’s SUV and make sure I could deal with it.  What an idiot I can be sometimes!

 

Message from Shakespeare:  The common curse of mankind, folly and ignorance, be thine in great revenue! (Troilus and Cressida).  Yes, he is an idiot.  He really can’t do anything except write silly poems – and take care of me and Carol.  He’s pretty good at that.  Purr.

 

Thank you, Shakey.  A kind word from a cat is like cold watermelon on a hot day.  Well, it’s time to go, I guess.  I don’t feel like stopping, but I know if I make these too long, I’ll lose your attention.  Hey, you forgot what innuendo meant, didn’t you?  We’ll meet again next Thursday.  I hope, by then, the world will be a safer place.  Stay well, count your blessings and pray for Israel.

 

Michael                                             Send comments to mfox1746@gmail.com