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If these “smart” devices are what they say they are then how come they don’t even know the difference between Senior citizens and Millennials? We think differently. Our destinations are different. My generation would never go to that part of town.
I will admit that the GPS in our car is easier to use than my truck. It types easier. Notice I said “type” not “key”.
The screen on our car GPS is huge compared to my truck’s tiny one. But, my truck GPS is familiar to me. I know how it works, what its quirks are, and it has my confidence. When we travel in the car, I exit the house a few minutes early just to figure out how to program the GPS.
Last week we suddenly realized en route that we did not know how to cancel the navigation when we did not need it any more. I had a Millennial in the car with me later that week and I asked him if he could figure it out. NOPE. My wife and I tried to do a joint “bail out” while traveling home. FAIL.
On a solo run I figured that I had to resolve this mystery. I pulled over in a parking lot. No, I didn’t pull out the owner’s manual. My wife and I tried that twice but couldn’t find out which volume to use. After looking through all three to no avail, we gave up.
I had parked in the back of our campus facilities. Since I did not park in the front the Navigation did not conclude itself but kept on running during my next venture out. It kept trying to direct me back to my office.
In some business parking lot I did what I do best. I started touching buttons. My peripheral vision caught the destination icon with a slash through it. Ah! I touched it and the GPS asked if I wanted to cancel the Navigation. “YES! YES! PTL! YES!” I exclaimed.
NOT good enough. I had to TOUCH the button to initiate the cancellation. Smart device? Not so smart operator. Sigh.
We all share a common experience during election season. How many political groups have my phone number? A number of those irritating calls have those toll-free numbers. The area code gives them away.
Sure, we were taught by our moms to be polite at all times. Politeness and manners wear thin after the rat-ta-tat force of words that stream from the mouth of a volunteer don’t give us room to breathe let alone give a thoughtful response.
Within seconds they have dumped a well-design load of words into our ears. It was just a prelude for them to ask for a financial donation. Yes, they specify an amount. Any hesitation on our part is met with a lesser amount. Of course the desperate need for our hard-earned dollars is vital to the cause.
This midterm election surprised me. The “other” party called and asked me for a donation. They were polite but just as forceful. I was also polite in my refusal and I asked them to remove my name and number from their list.
I did try to lay my telephone receiver down on my desk while I carried on with my work. Their constant barrage of words and salesmanship went on for several minutes before I heard them ask, “Are you there? Hello! Hello!” They hung up. I felt a little guilty.
Enough is enough. No more annoyance. No more guilt.
I went out with my bride as soon as our schedule allowed and we voted EARLY. It was amazing. After that the relentless political ads were no longer troubling. Further, the phone calls started to fall away.
Never doubt my resolve. I love my country and put up with the political wrangling. Yes, I even donated to the candidate of my choosing. But, voting, that is a privilege of great price. Those who fought and died so that I could have my voice heard, I am forever grateful. If we could only put a lid on the political ads, calls and bickering.
photo by bruce w. fong photography
Landing in Quad-cities Moline, Illinois seemed like ages ago. In truth it was a mere two nights ago. Iron Sharpens Iron, a men’s ministry had targeted the region for an inspirational and learning gathering of local men who are followers of Christ. It was my pleasure to be invited to be one of two keynote speakers.
It is March. For Texans like me, that means it is Spring time. Temperatures are moderate, sunshine is dependably warm, and flowers are blooming to add amazing color to the landscapes.
The forecast for Davenport was 8″ of snow for the Saturday of the conference. SNOW in March! Skepticism of the weather Springtime warning was rather high for a man of faith. I dismissed the odd report as if it were some kind of oddball joke.
Saturday morning my ride was on time. We drove to the gathering where 900 men greeted us with enthusiastic expectation. These men from 83 different churches jumped into worship with gusto even though it was snowing relentlessly outside.
After the events were concluded the men bundled up against the snow and streamed out of the auditorium and headed home. I patiently waited for my ride to the airport. Once we arrived at the terminal and said our good-byes, my eager feet to go home took over.
At the counter the bad news hit like a freezing cold snowball smacking me on the side of my head filled with forecast skepticism. The agent was apologetic. Weather induced delays would not allow me to make my connecting flight.
The best she could do was book me on the same flight 24 hours later. My! Smile and accept the inevitable.
My hosts were great. They covered the extra night at the Iowa hotel. The invitation to attend church the next day was delivered with enthusiasm.
It was all great fun. Unexpected fellowship breeds celebratory fun. Meeting others and worshipping with a new body of believers was an elixir.
Now, I am at the airport and have a six-hour wait for my flight. What to do? Easy!
My computer booted up easily. Next to it was my recharging I-pad. Of course I had a wonderful conversation with my bride.
Every hour, I took a walk down the concourse. Maybe a few extra steps will make the day flow smoothly. Now, it’s up to the airlines to have a do-over. I hope they have a great day of flying me home very soon.
photos by bruce w. fong photography
Our realtor was our guide to our newly adopted megacity of Houston, TX. We had no idea where to live or what to look for in local construction. A vague budget was in our minds.
She showed us a house with all of the basic room necessities and good curb appeal. Some of our wants were also on the list. Most importantly the price was within our target range.
Yet, a price range for a couple like us that was devastated in the housing market crash didn’t have much to put down for a new home. I looked at the construction issues with the very used home and figured out that the next decade of our life would be saving up to make major repairs on this fixer-upper.
Houston is famous for its heat. Good windows are a must to fight the blistering temperatures in the summer months. Keeping our air conditioning system happy was important.
The windows would eventually have to be replaced. We had that in mind when we made on offer for the house. Now, it was time to sign a contract and replace the windows with new ones.
Old windows are being torn out. New well-insulated and excellent guaranteed windows are going in. The installers are doing a superb job.
Half the windows are now done. I can see clearly now! The old broken seals and fogged up windows are going away.
The new glass is clean, clear and firmly mounted with strong heat resistant materials and block out unbearable temperatures. When the fogged up windows of our home make it impossible to enjoy the views it is sad. The whole house feels ugly.
Now, the improvement has given us a lift. Looking outside is fun again. Watching clouds float by and the daylight turn into night is enjoyable.
When we open the windows to let the cool winter breezes flow inside, the windows slide easily. We don’t have to grunt and tug to get old corroded windows to scrape painfully across worn out tracks. Figure tip control of well-made locks and well-lubricated tracks bring a great enjoyment to our home like few other purchases could.
Cost? Yes, it must be one of the most expensive home repair options that an owner must face. We counted the cost, prayed over the options and even took on additional income jobs just for this very reason. Then, God gave us His favor in an unexpected way. He is good, all of the time!
photo credit: brucefong photography
It is only a scratch. It is only a scratch? Why would anyone do that and not leave a note to fix it?
My truck is important to me. It is very important to me. I take very good care of it and want it to last for many years.
Yes, I even have a name for my truck. His name is Yoda. As its manufacturer is Toyota, hence its name is Yoda.
This is my third truck over the years that I have been on this earth as a legal driver. It is my second Toyota. Of all my trucks this one is my favorite.
It can take me anywhere I want to go. This truck will move anything that I need to transport. As far as personal rigs go this one not only is amazingly functional, it is also well designed and aesthetically sharp-looking.
My bride and I came out of the grocery store. As we approached our steed of faithful miles, it was standing where I had left him. But, my approach was mixed with shocking disbelief.
There on the side of my truck was someone’s signature. No it was not a name. It was a long deep scratch.
The depth of the scratch was not something that I could rub out like a scuff mark. This one was so deep that it took the paint off and gashed my door so uneven that the white paint highlighted the dark underbelly of the layers of paint.
I was not sick over the discovery. It was just one of those, “Oh, well, what can you do?” It is not worth the expense to report for insurance coverage.
Gently, I stoked my hand across the wound. My head shook with disgust. “What a waste,” I surmised. Some people just are careless and don’t give a rip.
If someone does not care about keeping their car up then I do not judge them. Nor do I intrude on their lives and shame their irresponsible behavior. But, if I am victimized by someone’s misstep then at least leave a note with the pertinent information.
Do people really just assess damage for others and conclude what they need to do or not do? Are they objective and concerned about the victim’s assessment? Are they really happy with leaving and blowing off the episode as “no big deal”? This is annoying but, what can a person do?
photo credit: brucefong cellphone photography
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