Monday Musing, Powerless Edition

On Friday, just as I stepped out into the driveway on my way to picking up the Catbird at her job "in town," a storm hit. A wicked streak of lightning landed to the right, on the other side of the hamlet. A moment later, another one landed somewhere over the hill across the street, and a cloud looked like it was boiling up and over that hill. The rain came, and the entire 15 minutes or so on the road into town I was treated to one of the most spectacular lightning shows I have seen in years. By the time we arrived home, the storm had slackened, but the damage was done: my wife and her friend who had come over to binge watch something (they hadn't decided on what to binge watch when I left) were sitting in candlelight. The power was out.

You may know that I've written a novel called POWERLESS, which deals with a world after the power goes out. As the outage stretched on, I thought of that story. In it, the main character has a landline, a real old-school phone hardwired to the wall, with an actual cord that connects the handset to the rest of the device. An old-school phone like that is pretty handy in an emergency, because it always works. They operate independently of the power grid, so when the power goes out, you can always use it to notify the power company of an outage (and, in our case, the automated voice on the other end of the line will tell you how many customers in your area are out, and give you an estimate of when it should be back on--which can be a fast-moving target). It's pretty good to have (note that cordless phones will not work in a power outage, because the base unit doesn't work unless it's plugged into an electrical outlet).

Sometime on Friday, I noticed my sister posted a note on Facebook that said her family no longer had a landline. Presumably, she, her husband and both sons have their own cellphones. She joins a growing number of Americans. According to the Chicago Tribune, more than 40% of Americans no longer have landlines. That story ran last summer, so it's probably even higher now. I'm not sure it's such a good idea, just from a safety perspective, thought that could be just because we exist in a cellphone dead zone.

See below

I wonder how the switch to individual phones changes the family dynamic. Growing up, we had two phones in our house, but only one phone line. My parents did not get an answering machine until long after we kids were moved out. Calling home could result in a busy signal--and there's an entire generation of Americans that likely have NO IDEA what that is--or, if no one was home, the phone ringing and ringing forever. There was nothing worse as a teenager than waiting for an important call (and, when you're a teenager, they're all important, aren't they?) while your sister is hogging the line. Now, there's no need to fight over the phone. And as a parent, do you have any idea who is calling your kids? Or when? Devices bring us together, devices keep us apart.

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On another note, today is the day. I don't know if other high schools do this--I don't think mine did, but we had 1,000 students to deal with, so probably not--it's the Senior Walk, or as I think of it, The Running of the Seniors. Today, last period of the day, the seniors at the Catbird's school will don their caps and gowns and parade through the halls, accompanied by the cheers of the underclassmen and the tears of gathered parents. It's been a heck of a year, not always in a good way, but she is officially done. I am super proud of her, super proud of both my girls, and I can't wait to see where life takes them from here--and my wife and I!

That's about it for me, have a great week, all.


Note on the phone: the one in the picture is very similar to the one we used to have on our kitchen wall where I grew up. My Mom had a cousin who worked for the phone company who got us an extra long 'strangler cord' so we could have privacy. My bedroom was at least ten feet down the hall from the kitchen and I could stretch that sucker so I could stand inside my closed door to talk to my friends. Woe to anyone who was in the bathroom when I was on the phone. If they came out the door without looking, the cord would be stretched across that doorway, throat high. Good times.

Us & Them

Is it me or does it feel like social media--that great, wonderful tool that is supposed to bring us all together--is becoming more and more divisive?

Maybe it is me. Maybe I just don't like people screaming their political beliefs at me (particularly when they don't jibe with my own, hah ha), or trying to get me to "guilt share" some image or message or status. "Share this if you support..." with the implication being that I'm anti-American or anti-cop or anti-equality or anti-choice or anti-life or anti-feminist if I don't do it. Don't tell me what I am just because I didn't change my profile picture to support your cause, or because I didn't share a status or image or do the Ice Bucket Challenge.

Rant over. Damn, I'm feeling like some cranky old man. Here's some depressing (but incredible) Pink Floyd to cap this post off a on a real cheery note!

Public Service Announcement

A couple years back, when writing was still an idea, something I toyed around with for a bit, I was on my way into town on a fine Saturday morning in early June. The sun was shining, it was warm, the windows were down and I was grooving along. I'd had the idea of a story in my head for months, but I'd never gotten beyond the "Wouldn't that be kind of cool to write about?" stage.

We live in an area with winding, hilly roads. I descended a hill into a little valley, rounded a curve, and there it was, sitting at the edge of the road, just outside the white line: a monstrous snapping turtle. She stared at my oncoming car with that calm, defiant look that all turtles have, her huge head raised up,, and then I was past her. When I glanced in the rear view mirror, her tail was dragging behind as she disappeared into the high grass at the edge of the road. And that's when I had it: the moment.

The whole way into town I was writing in my head. The whole way home I was writing in my head. When I got home, I sat down and wrote a chapter, the opening of a book that soon fizzled and died. I wasn't ready. It wasn't until the following November that I started it again, for my first NaNo. That book never went anywhere, really, not beyond the required 50,000 words, but that moment has stayed with me. And every time I see a turtle on the road, it comes back to me.

It's June. Here in upstate New York, it's pretty much peak time for turtles on the move, especially females who are either on their way to or on their way from egg laying sites (the one pictured below I came across a few years back, laying eggs in the gravel on the road side). Sadly, turtles are not too good at avoiding cars. The shell that makes them so good at avoiding most predators is not much uses against a 2-ton vehicle. If, in your travels, you should find a turtle in the middle of the road and it's safe to help it, do so. But please make sure you move it in the direction it's heading toward. Turtles are stubborn, and turtles know where they're going. Save a life!

Photo by me

Monday Musing, Sleepless in Upstate New York Edition

Here it is, Monday morning, Memorial Day in the USA, a holiday, a day that, in theory, I can sleep in on, and here it is, 5:45 in the morning and I am up. Just like yesterday. Just like the day before.

For the better part of a week, my sleep schedule has gotten totally borked. For most of my adult life, I have been someone who wakes up before my alarm, usually by 10 or 15 minutes. On Wednesday or Thursday last week I woke up ahead of my alarm, convinced it was time to get up, my brain firing at a fairly high level. I was halfway out of bed when I looked at the clock and saw it was only 4. On that day I managed to go back to sleep for another hour or so.

I don't necessarily mind all that much on some levels, except on some of thee days I'm tired when I wake up, and could use the extra sleep. Yawning uncontrollably from mid-morning on at work is not what I want to be doing, but it seems to be where I'm at right now.

For a year early in our marriage, we lived with my in-laws. They were in their 70s at the time and had the craziest sleep cycles of anyone I have ever known. More often than not one of them would be on their way to bed just as I was getting up to get ready for work--around 4:30 in the morning (I had a long train ride in those days). It seems fairly normal for older people to have wonky sleep schedules; I am hardly a senior citizen at the point, so I'm not sure why it's happening.

It's not entirely bad, however. I've written the first four paragraphs of this piece, half asleep, without the benefit of coffee (yeah, I know, it shows) and I'm much more awake than I was before. On Saturday, in the period when I was in bed trying to get back to sleep, I came up with a solution to a minor manuscript problem. Both Saturday and Sunday I got in two to three hours of what I felt like were quality writing time between 6 and 8 in the morning.

I guess all there is to do is to ride it out and try to get something useful out of this while it's going on. My sleep schedule periodically gets out of whack like this, and it always gets reset. Might as well use this 'extra time' well.

Musical Monday: Brandi Carlile

Making a return trip to this blog is Brandi Carlile, with this excellent, relatively new song:



Very nice, that song.

What news of me? We're heading into the real lasts of the Catbird's high school 'career'. This week, she's got her final conference champion track meet (though not her last track meet; she qualified for sectionals in the 800 and 1500). She now has less than 20 days of school left. Wow.

The Magpie continues to thrive in Japan, though the end is also in sight. She booked her return flight, which caused quite a bit of sticker shock. Last fall, she flew out, non-stop, on a Dreamliner for under a thousand bucks. A non-stop return flight would have cost her almost 5 grand. Five thousand freakin' dollars. Instead, she booked a flight for roughly what she paid to get there, but this one stops in Hong Kong and will keep her traveling for something like 22 hours. Ugh.

Making steady progress now through the WiP. I had printed it out and spent a couple of weeks going through it, making notes and scribbles and sticking post its all over it (what fun!). Usually I start with the last version of the document, do a 'Save As' and make changes following my notes on the printed copy. This time, I started with a brand new, blank document and have been typing the whole thing back in. As a result, I'm making even more changes than are noted on my pages, which I think is making for a better revision--at least I hope so!

Not sure if this marks my return from sabbatical or not; we'll see. How's everything with all of you?

We Interrupt this Short Break...

...for a chestnut update! As you can see, the little tree is starting to join the rest of the vegetative world in these parts. Daffodils are up, violets are blooming, even some wild strawberries. And now, the chestnut is starting to leaf out.

I'm glad to see that the brutal winter we had didn't kill it and I'm hoping it really takes off this year.

I'm enjoying my blogging break and expect to return, maybe by June. Hope you're all well. Have a great weekend!

This About Sums It Up

Have a nice weekend, all.