nedful things

I am missing the blog.  One reason is that my trusty PC has developed a small hardware problem.

I heard it coming for quite a while, in the grinding groan that emanated from it when I turned it on. I knew it had to be a fan going bad, but I kept playing the odds, hoping I would get by one more day.

Then one morning, it shocked me by making this most alarming noise that sounded like...well, an alarm.  At that point I decided to investigate and found that the CPU fan was clogged with dust and dirt. Aha! I said to myself, this is something I can fix without replacing anything.  I cleaned out the fan and vacuumed out the inside of the case and the first time I booted it up, it was golden.  The next morning: groan.. grind... whirr...lack of whirr... alarm.

There was nothing for it then but to buy a new fan.  These come fairly cheaply and so all the effort to avoid purchasing one seems excessive but I am Danish.  Stubborn and frugal, we will waste hours trying to fix something rather than spend a dime.  I went on-line and checked out the computer superstore nearest me to see what they had before I set out shopping.

I think these computer stores hire all the same people.  The sales staff is almost always completely made up of males in their twenties. I want to like them, I like the way their hair is a little too long and that it was a little too long even before it started to become fashionable again. They have the best job in the world, they get to do what what they like best. They like talking about computers.  They like that they know more about it than you do.  They like to look at your bemused gaze as they explain it to you in language they know you will not understand. They will spend endless hours talking to some guy who has no idea how he botched the networking of his systems so that when he puts one online, another goes offline - but, they will not wait on the blonde in the faux fur coat.

When I finally manage to get someone's attention, all I find out is they don't have what I want. I knew that already from looking at the stock on the shelves  but I hoped they had more in the back or something.  I explained that I had first confirmed they sold the right fan; I had seen it on their website and so ventured forth to purchase it. "We have more online than we carry in the store", he told me.  As I was already mentally categorized under "Female - Subsection Blonde" I asked him petulantly: "how can you be a superstore if you don't have what I want?" (I didn't stamp my foot, however, that would have been overkill).  I was going to walk out without the power supply that I found on 60% clearance but then I realized it was too good a deal to pass up and maybe I should have one on hand.

So off I went to the next store.  I saw a perfect parking spot that would have saved my tired legs from a long trek, only to have it stolen from me by some young kid.  I was tired and cranky so I rushed to the next aisle to park within a few cars of him, intending to scar his conscience but he was too quick for me and scurried into the store before I could catch up.  Youths always scurry, I wonder why.  They have more time than anyone, but they are always in a hurry. 

But I wasn't just demonstrating the slow movements brought on by, well let's not call it age, let's call it the absence of youth. By this time I was tired from standing in the other store, attempting to appear worthy of waiting on.  I walked around  this second superstore in circles without even finding any section where they had such things as CPU fans until finally I managed to catch the tiny attention span of a young male who told me they didn't carry fans. Turns out he thought I meant the kind you put in the window. What else would a blonde in a fur coat want in the computer section? I set him straight and he led me to them but knew nothing about them.  He suggested I go online because: "We carry more online than we do in the store".

I gave up then and didn't even look at the bargains on keyboards. I headed back out to retreat to the safety of the Internet, where no one steals your parking space.

I went online.  I found the fan I want that is the right size, doesn't come with a heat sink and has the TX3 connection I need.  It is $4.99.  The shipping is $5.00. I will have to pay more than twice its price to get it but the best part is that is will take more than a week to arrive. There was an option to get next day shipping for $18.00.  Then it would take only 4 days to arrive.

I decided that the way the computer "superstores" stay in business is by making it impossible for you to find even the smallest and simplest item that would allow you to keep your own unit running by yourself.  They want the average person to give up and in a state of confusion agree to buy an entire new package.  This is their real business, selling  computer packages and waiting for them to break down so you will come buy another computer system package.

All of this is only to say that I haven't been blogging with any regularity and here is one reason why.  And since I didn't pay for the four-day express shipping,  it will be a while yet.

They're calling her Molly.

A few days ago Molly decided she wasn't going to stay in line and wait to be killed.  A few days ago, Molly was slated for the slaughterhouse, destined to be dinner. A few days ago, she didn't have a name.  But Molly decided to get out of line.

Her 1,200 pound frame jumped the fence, crossed roadways and railroad tracks, swam the Missouri River and wandered into town.  It took workers and police six hours to capture her.  When they did, they didn't insist she get back in line.

Molly is a cow.  A cow who was in line at the slaughterhouse and while all the other cows followed along, Molly decided to get out of line and follow her own path.

An off-beat story, to be sure.  Doesn't happen often, I hear you say.  No, it doesn't, but it does happen.  How about Louise the pig? Louise was being transported with four other pigs to slaughter when she decided to jump out of the window of the truck carrying her onto a busy highway.  Rudy, another pig, was found wandering a truck stop after he had left the vehicle that was taking him to the abattoir.

I wonder, is that all it takes? Is that all there is to it,  just getting out of line?  Had Molly gone along, stayed where she belonged and fulfilled her apparent purpose, I would have had no second thoughts about my burger.  She could have been my dinner and my conscience would be clear.  

If I stay in line, is it my purpose and my destiny I am fulfilling or that of those who make the lines?  Maybe greatness isn't being more than average,  perhaps it is the inability to go along quietly and soothe the conscience of the line drawers.  As long as you are content there, within the lines, nothing has to change.

So perhaps you should smile and be pleased the next time someone tells you "you're getting out of line". I hope you find more ways to do it, find fewer opportunities to go along, and if you escape, I hope you run.  Make trying to reclaim you an exhausting experience.  If you jump the fence, I hope they never catch you.  

I suffer from a rare disorder.  Sympathetic Vertigo.  Quite often it is misdiagnosed and thought to stem from an excessively nervous nature or an extended maternal instinct.  Sometimes it is even ascribed to personality disorders, such as Chronic Compulsive Buddinski's Complex.

I have no balance.  A friendly sounding of my name behind me and the subsequent turning of my head in the direction of the call, will cause immediate dizziness and loss of direction, often resulting in my falling headlong over a curbing.  I don't know about you, but headlong is one of my least favorite ways to fall.

I prefer to walk with a wall directly to my right or left, where a steadying and guiding hand can be run along the structure as a reassuring guide for my errant feet.  I caution companions not to walk to my left as they will inevitably be used as bumper guards when I start to drift.  I have a fear of heights as well, not a fear of being at heights, a fear of falling from heights.  One of my earliest memories is that of standing at the top of the stairs and upon looking down, falling the entire length of the staircase.  It could be the spotty memory of a child but it seems to me this happened more than once.  I must not have been a bright child. Possibly I suffered a closed head injury and believe me, that would explain a lot of things.

Over the years I have flown down many a flight of stairs and over a few porch railings.  I have learned never to trust my feet to land where I sent them and to be acutely aware of my body's attempts to hurl itself over the nearest precipice.  But this is my imbalance.

Most people I know are perfectly capable of running down a flight of stairs, or even walking through a store without major injury or damage to property.  So why is it that I can't trust them either?  

Sympathetic Vertigo.  

I can't look when people stand at the edge of railings and peer over three floors to the lobby.  I turn my head when I see someone standing with their back to the top of a staircase.  I won't go to the circus or even watch it on television.  The fact that it is video-taped does not mean you will be spared the sight of the untimely and ungraceful death of a formerly high, high-wire acrobat. Sorry, been there, watched that.

It's a lack of faith in equilibrium and a healthy fear of gravity.  Other people seem to lack what appears to me to be a huge self-preservation instinct:  try not to fall.  Don't jump off cliffs or bridges on purpose, even if you have a long elastic tied to your ankles.  Don't go very high on amusement park rides that were put up in a day and will be removed 5 days hence to be set up elsewhere.  Don't lean over canyons, don't stand with your back to a precipice.  Try not to fall.

I guess it is just my natural concern for my fellow human beings that drives me.  There seem to large numbers of the population that ignore this very basic survival strategy: try not to fall. Skydivers are a group who are particularly afflicted with a basic lack of fear.  For these and others I step into the gap left as a result of a devious side-stepping of the process of  natural selection; their ancestors apparently not having fallen until after having reproduced.

My doctor has suggested there is medication that would lessen the effects of Sympathetic Vertigo and if the truth be told, I could use the rest and peace it might afford.  But I cannot take that selfish step.  There is a world of people out there, teetering on the brink.  Someone has to warn them.