RIP, Steve Jobs

This was a magic box.

I hate to brag, but I was one of the first people to use a Macintosh.  Really.  Apple made a deal with a number of large universities around the country to let them install Macintosh computers for student use in "computer centers" on campus.  You see, young 'uns, no one had their own computer in 1985.  No one halfway normal, that is.  Myself, I was still clinging to my electric typewriter when a friend dragged me, kicking and screaming, to the computer center.  "I don't understand computers!" I complained.  "You'll understand this one," she said, shoving a floppy disk into my hands.  And she was right.

Primitive thumb drive

By the way, we used to have to sign up and WAIT to use a computer, believe it or not.  And then?  We waited to use a printer, too.  How quaint.  Oh, and we didn't have these cute little thumb drives that fit on a key chain.  We had these 3.5-inch square plastic things called floppy disks (even though they weren't floppy) that we lugged around in our heavy backpacks.  The backpacks were heavy because we had to carry things called "notebooks" and "textbooks." 

No ebooks, no computerized notes, nothing.  It was like the Flintstones, only more primitive.

What I'm saying is, computers would have happened no matter what.  But until Steve Jobs came along, they were exclusively the province of computer geeks; and the Internet was a sort of Wild West, populated by coders and music pirates.  Jobs took this frontier and turned it into DisneyWorld.  He put the Internet literally in our pockets and transformed it into a playground for everyone, even technophobes like myself.  He connected the world.  It's awesome, the changes that have happened in 30 years. 

This didn't used to be a cool look, you know...

The other thing Steve Jobs did was make the world safe for geeks.  He made them seem cute, even, with that black mock turtleneck and blue jeans ensemble.  In high school, we avoided them, those asocial weirdos who walked in and out of the computer room with punch cards and talked to each other in some sort of code.  If we could have, we would have put "Least likely to ever get a date" under their yearbook pictures.  Now?  Geeks are hot.  Just pull on a black mock turtleneck and shove an IPhone in your Jeans pocket, boys, and watch those girls swarm.

Except you, David - don't even think about it.




[Mac image: Vintage Computers]
[Floppy disk image: Chris Pirillo]

Some Light Whining

If I had extra cash lying around (which I don't, as we just blew it all on a pop-up camper), I would hire someone to come in and figure out how to light our living areas in such a fashion that I no longer feel as if I'm going blind every time I sit down to knit.  Maybe that person would even be able to explain to me how any lamp can survive unscathed in a household with children in it.  Our lamps all have shades hanging askew, messed up cords, stupid switches that don't work unless you turn them exactly right - all from being knocked over one too many times.

But you know what would be cheaper than a personal lighting designer?  If each of us just wore a hat with a headlamp on it.  Wouldn't that make more sense?  Light where you need it, every time!  No fragile lamps, no ceiling fixtures with breakable parts...just some simple headgear that we would put on first thing in the morning and take off when we go to bed at night.  Sort of like tefillin, only not sacred...

I Googled images of tefillin, so you would understand that they are prayer phylacteries , traditionally worn by Jewish men during prayer services, and I stumbled on this:

We've come a long way, baby...

I'm a bit out of the loop, but I'm guessing this is Judaism 2.0.

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas...

Now I'm sick.  Just regular virus sick, not deadly-listeria sick.  I'm thinking the bout of food poisoning weakened me to the point where I was able to catch the common cold.  So I still blame the lettuce...

I suspect mine won't look this good.

I'm currently obsessed with the felted Lopi tote.  If you do not knit, you will not understand.  DO NOT TRY.  Just nod your head and smile.  Move on to the next blog, if you must.  Myself, I will remain happily ensconced among the 8 skeins of bulky Andes wool I purchased for what will theoretically become this year's Christmas presents for all the women in my family.  Never mind that I have not felted anything before.  Disregard that bag of yarn meant for last year's Christmas presents,  unknit and forgotten in the back of my closet.  Hope springs eternal for this particular knitter, who persists in allowing visions of homemade Christmas gifts to dance in her head.

This will not end well.  That is why I choose to live in the present.  It's happier here.

[Felted tote image: Spinning Fishwife]

Produce - The Silent Killer

This is the one that got me.

The cantaloupe has been exonerated, and I offer my apologies to all melon lovers out there.  The produce item that almost spelled my demise last week?   Romaine hearts, my friends - never trust a leafy green.  An entire bag (well, half a bag - that was the problem) of listeria-ridden lettuce was in my fridge.  I had been chowing down on it all week because - get this - I thought it was healthy.  Silly me.

These people were NOT helpful.

What kills me (aside from the listeria) is that all the recall articles state that no illnesses have been reported.  Well!  I attempted to report mine - I figured the CDC would have a webpage for such a thing, or maybe my local health department.

Nope.

I would have had to go to my doctor (at a time when I couldn't be more than 3 feet from a toilet) who would have then required a stool sample, etc., before he'd report to the health department. In case you ever thought that food poisoning cases in our country are massively under-reported? You would have been correct.

So now I"m scared to eat produce.  But ice cream is still safe, right?  I'll just eat that instead.

No cherry on top, thanks!

[Oh, and - unlike eating fresh produce - it's not life-threatening to  vote for me.]

[lettuce image: kcra.com]
[sundae image: cltampa.com]

Irritatingly Optimistic Voices

Thanks to Rachel's begging me to buy the sheet music for the Wizard of Oz during our latest foray to the music store, I seem to be permanently afflicted with this particular earworm (the first 30 seconds will suffice):

Misery loves company, you know...

[Oh, and Diana reminded me that I am supposed to remind you to vote.  I guess I was so busy banging my head against the wall in a desperate attempt to get these voices out of my head,  I forgot about the contest..  Thank you, Diana.]