Category: Personal

The thoughts continue; is this part of being in one’s sixties?

We (personally speaking) have become accustomed to losing our cats to wildlife—goodbye Jackson; you were rude and demanding and bossy and domineering, and you didn’t listen when I told you there would be consequences for ignoring Kitty Curfew.

We are now accustomed to words like “atmospheric river”, “rain events”, “phone tree”, “hydrate”, and “interface”. These things used to be “storm”, “rain”, “switchboard”, “drink”, and “talk”.

We have become accustomed to appliances and electronics giving up at around six years, if we are fortunate to have them last that long.

We are accustomed to being told that things “aren’t reparable”, that there are no longer parts or people who know how to fix things.

We have become accustomed to putting our own groceries on the conveyer belt, bagging them ourselves using bags we brought from home, and schlepping them out to our vehicles. In some cases we actually do our own scanning rather than place them on a conveyer belt. (Remember when grocery checkers had to announce the price of every single item?)

We have become accustomed to everyone being a photographer with cameras available at all times, along with instant gratification of seeing the photos. Remember when we didn’t know how our photos would turn out until we picked them up at a store a week or two later? (I was considered a bit odd because I always had 2 cameras with me—one with black and white film, the other with color, or occasionally with slide film. I might still be considered a bit odd—just be polite.)

In Three Rivers, we have become accustomed to lizards in the house, deer eating many of our plants, coyotes yipping and howling, and turkeys hanging out in the yard.

We have become accustomed to typographical errors, misspellings, and poor grammar, even among those who speak publicly for a living. Nope, it’s not “have went” —it is “have gone”; we don’t “graduate school” —we graduate FROM school; you aren’t “gifted something” —you are GIVEN something, and it isn’t “me and my wife” —it is “my wife and I”.

We have become accustomed to not licking stamps or envelopes, just peeling off backing instead.

We are accustomed to carrying water bottles everywhere (remember drinking fountains?) and wearing seatbelts (remember riding in the bed of a pickup?)

Anyone need a break from all these heavy thoughts? Let’s have another ad for another oil painting.

Today’s post is a long list of thoughts that occur to me while drawing in silence (if you don’t count the monotonous hum of the barely adequate A/C) and solitude. I decided to skip photos, so it is possible you will decide to skip reading. I will assume the risk of this.

We have become accustomed to hateful phone-calls with robots, non-native English speakers who read scripts, and fighting through a “phone-tree” to find a human who can address whatever our needs are.

We have become accustomed to relying on things we don’t understand with companies who do not care about their customers, only their bottom line. (think phones, internet, appliance repair, health-care networks, insurance…)

We have become accustomed to unreachable doctors, lost files, missed messages, unreturned phone calls.

We have become accustomed to figuring out medical problems on our own or with the help of friends who have gone through similar situations.

We have become accustomed to contractors who don’t return phone calls, don’t show up, don’t follow through, and do shoddy work if they actually do show up.

We have become accustomed to seeing giant supports for a so-called “high-speed rail”, one that will serve no purpose, because who needs to go at a high rate of speed from Hanford to Modesto, or whatever other smallish cities in Central California?

We have become accustomed to delayed or cancelled flights, poor service, crowded seating, paying for luggage, no meal service.

We have become accustomed to people staring at and depending on screens rather than greeting one another and conversing while in public.

We have become accustomed to instant gratification, ordering anything we might need, do need or simply want and getting it within days.

We have become accustomed to coarse language, the everyday use of words formerly only seen on bathroom walls by people who used to show restraint now using bad language in public, and crude “jokes” by so-called comedians are the norm.

We have become accustomed to immodest dress—sorry to shock you, but leggings are NOT pants, and cleavage used to be saved for specific occasions rather than be considered normal and accepted.

Phew. Let’s look at something beautiful and timeless. (Have we become accustomed to bloggers self-promoting??)

“Let’s talk” is a euphemism for “I’ll do the typing and you do the reading”. But I welcome your comments, if you have the fortitude to fight through the commenting procedures.

Mom gave me her car last year. I reluctantly sold Fernando, and have been trying to appreciate having a newer vehicle, one with power (a 6 cylinder engine instead of a 4, albeit “turbo-charged”, it was a little wimpy, sorry Fernando). I’m doing my best to get used to an automatic, to adjust to a non-blue or green car, to accept the lack of sportiness in a 4-door.

BUT, THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A FREE CAR. Just saying. (Shouting, actually) The blower went out, which is the thing that sends A/C into your car (or heat or defrosting). I drove down to Visalia the earliest time possible to avoid the heat. Frank diagnosed the problem and said he’d have to order the new unit, which could take a day or two.

He drove me to Enterprise Rent-A-Car, and I proceeded to rent an all black Toyota Rav4. Couldn’t figure out how to start it, set the parking brake, or put it in gear, so I went back inside and asked for instructions. They tried to sell me a $33/day insurance policy, which I declined, figuring I’d just use the car to get home, where I’d park it safely in the garage until it was time to use it to retrieve Momscar.

I drove it the 30 miles home, a little white-knuckled, with no idea how to operate the radio (prolly didn’t have one—just some sort of app to be used with the phone—forget it) and no idea how to use the cruise control. I learned that it is hard to hold a steady speed after years of cruise control.

I was doing fine, until the dang thing started beeping at me whenever I encountered a curve. In addition, the steering wheel went a little spastic at the same time. Oh shoot, maybe I should have paid for that insurance. I stopped at the bank on the way home, and the two women there told me that the beeping and wheel tremors are part of new car behaviors. Okay, just another reason to stick with old cars. (I stopped to make a deposit, not to get mechanical advice, but we are all friends; they asked me how I was doing, so I told them.)

When the car was safely in the garage, I came inside and saw that there was a message on the answering machine. Frank called to say that he found the part and the car was fixed! WHAT?? I got back in the rental and drove the 30 miles back to town.

That little excursion cost $75 dollars, and they didn’t even charge me for gas, which I was NOT going to spend an hour figuring out how to put in the tank, IF I could even figure out how to open the cap.

In addition to all this up-and-down-the-hill excitement, I showed Frank this photo to ask about the car that I lusted over felt so drawn to in Mineral King.

It’s a Scion, only made from 2013-2016, and it was a joint venture between Toyota and Subaru. Frank said that Subarus are advertised to be safe, not mechanically sound, and the parts are really expensive. Okay, never mind. Good to know.

Momscar felt pretty simple and good after my little excursion with that fancypants rental car.

P.S. I don’t like Detroit to do my shifting for me!