Manna from Heaven (almost)

As you should have long since sussed if you've popped in and read anything that's been posted here for most of the last decade, I'm not a big fan of the current occupant of the White House. I have a great deal of difficulty identifying a solitary redeeming characteristic unless we count comic relief.

That's really not surprising, considering he's a convicted felon, among other adjudicated findings. But you know how they say 'water seeks its own level?' A quick look at his cabinet confirms the wisdom of that saying, and just when you think it can't get any worse, you have Robert F. Kennedy, Jr., the gift who keeps on giving. 

I'm assuming/hoping there's a slide show or an interactive video to support the new guidelines. I cannot wait to see it, I think.
-bill kenny

Paging Carl Douglas

I'm showing my age when I mention Carl Douglas. More than one of you may wonder how he's related to Kirk or Michael Douglas, and more than one of you would be very wrong. 

Carl, of course, was the performer of this classic toe tapper (not to be confused with Jake Tapper). I wasn't necessarily a fan of it, but Flo & Eddie's strong negative feelings put my opinion in the shade. 

Between you and me, I'm surprised all these decades later that someone hasn't re-roasted Carl's chestnut and presented it to us on something like America's Got Talent or The Masked Singer, two shows I have never watched, which is why I think they would be the perfect platforms to launch the revival. 

I found just the video to complement the song. No need to thank me.
-bill kenny

Dorothy and Toto Think Otherwise

I'm on peritoneal dialysis (and hoping to be considered for a transplant) because my kidneys have been failing for years and can no longer do the job they were designed for. 

I have a lot of time all night, every night, as my cycler goes through its "Fill, Dwell, and Drain" cycle, to marvel at how complex a machine our bodies are.  

Scarecrow, Tin Man, and the Cowardly Lion notwithstanding, there are five organs we can live without, if we have to. 

If you're waiting for a joke or a quip, hope you packed a lunch, as I don't have one, but I was wondering if I could swap a kidney for a gallbladder.
-bill kenny

Put Me In, Coach

We've had perhaps more than a fair amount of snow this winter (so far, and maybe we're not done with the white stuff yet). It's February in New England, I get that. But I'm all kinds of warm inside as Major League Baseball returns today when the Boys of Summer start spring training games.  

I know it's 'not real baseball' and 'the games don't count,' but a boy can dream. Spring training games are to Doubleday's delight what Velveeta is to cheese, but until the games start to count, I'm willing to grin and bear it (and eat it up with a spoon, preferably out of an ice cream sundae baseball helmet snack bowl). 

Sometimes the best reason to hit the ballpark

And if the joy of baseball's return isn't quite enough for you, here's a brainteaser that will keep you occupied.

I know, 'just a bit outside.'
-bill kenny

A Fine Line Before Heinlein

I've sort of gotten used to the automated assistance a lot of online vendors and service providers use. Having lived through Microsoft's Clippy or whatever its name was, I can put up with a measured amount of that nonsense, but I think I draw the line at hospitals, looking at you, William W. Backus Hospital, Norwich, Connecticut, pulling it on me when I call them. 

I don't call often, but when I do, I want to speak to someone in scheduling for the too-many tests and scans I require as part of my daily life, or with someone in my doctor's office because I have a concern that requires attention; an itch in need of a scratch. 

Not a machine, supposedly AI (or A One, as our Secretary of What-Used-to-Be-Education calls Artificial Intelligence) that leads me nowhere and then leaves me there. 

Seemingly, "Grok" is the future. 

Nein danke.
-bill kenny

That Was Just a Dream

When we were kids, today was a very serious and solemn moment on the calendar, Ash Wednesday. 

It's been decades since I gave something up for Lent (truth to tell, I failed my faith and gave up Lent but then kept on living) and I've rationalized my failure by pointing out to myself that since I always went back to whatever I gave up (usually something to eat as opposed to a behavior change), I hadn't really changed at all, so surrender cost nothing because it was worth nothing.

And then I look around me, and see where we are and where I am in the midst of all of that and realize I didn't run backwards or stop running at all to be here (nor did any of us) but rather, just ran a step slower, a step less resolute, perhaps a shorter footfall until the distance grew inexorably longer between where we wanted to be (and knew we had to go) and where we were to end up, so far behind we could no longer see those up ahead.

And when the distance between us was too great to ever fill, we stopped and have forgotten how to start again. Which makes today more important as a beginning than it can ever be as an end, because I think I saw you try.
-bill kenny 

Did You See His Name?

I grew up and more-than-halfway old without the Internet and all the wonders it hath wrought. Instantaneous and worldwide connectivity sure sounded like a good idea, except we get in one another's way and create unintended casualties.  

There are as many online villages and communities of interest as there are people on the planet. Sometimes they do good things, and no one knows who to applaud, and other times they do horrible things, and there's no way to undo the harm. 

Last weekend, on a Facebook group page (among thousands, I suspect) about where I live, Norwich, Connecticut, someone posted a video showing another someone behaving badly (abhorrently to be candid) and then yet another someone else did some 'research' (i.e., Google) and put a name to the face of the miserable miscreant. Insert graphic of self-righteousness here.

I think the kids call that 'doxing.' 

Here's the problem: the person outed by name on the page was NOT the person misbehaving in the video. Too late! Their family and employer have been bombarded with insults, invective, and all manner of imprecations. There's no way to unring the bell, and no one knows where the injured party should go to get their reputation back. 

Sometimes a pause does more than refresh. Maybe we should all try it more.
-bill kenny