Also true that the gps navigation bots, which are all too fallible when it comes to directing you, are probably a lot less fallible at their function of tracking you.
But owning, carrying, those trackers isn’t a requirement.
Nor is it kosher-legit to give them to kids. I saw a toddler recently with a fuzzy stuffed toy cell phone in his hand.
The ‘one true ring’s’ cradle-to-grave teething ring.
But net-net calcs are columnar, not circular.
Cue Chris Farley: "Remember when Samson went to the Delilah barbershop for a haircut & an eye-shave & then pulled down those circling columns? That was awesome!"
No doubt, Andy, we are eagerly complicit in our own addictions and enslavement. The kingpins of the technomedia cartel know better than to give these digital devices to their own kids...
Liked that flick. Really liked that lodge, on the water (accessible by float plane), in the Canadian "wilderness" (that was purpose built for the scenes, then taken back down ... "the queen" prolly owns all that land, eh?).
"Because what you have to be before you try to be a pole vaulter -hello!- is a pole vaulter!"
Liked that part of that flick.
So. Some of these billionaires manage to kill the cell phone bear, so to speak, when it comes to their kids. Part of grooming the dynastic progeny-protege-prototypes?
I'd like to see these good parents ShakingSpeares at grizzlies with a taste for human meat like the Anthony Hopkins character did in The Edge.
What one man do, another can pole vault, too.
Even in the flick, what the one man did, none of the others did - despite repetitive pep-mantra round the campfire.
I read your most recent essay, "Eulogy for Serendipity" with a smile on my face Jeff.
Since I retired in 2006 I have tried to pay homage to one of John Steinbeck's (1902–1968) last works, called "Travels with Charley, In Search of America" which was published in 1962.
I keep my copy of "Travels with Charley" in an easy to reach shelf in my library since it was published. At the time, I was a reporter and editor for the Bangor (Maine) Daily News.
During my early years in the Air Force and later at the newspaper, I devoured Steinbeck's books on what seemed like a weekly basis.
This year, "travels with Kohlrabi" began in August and ended in September.
My goofy hound dog and I took an enjoyable 45 mph drive from FL to lake Erie to WA driving on "US" highways rather than interstate roads in my pickup truck.
And yes, when I fell in love with my puppy at a no kill animal rescue seven years ago, he was already chipped and named Kohlrabi, a popular vegetable in central Europe!
The only bump in our journey occurred when I decided to take the literal "highways" through the Black Hills and the Rocky Mountains.
A few days into that portion of my drive I started noticing symptoms of altitude sickness.
Which led to buying large bottles of water and turning on the altimeter display of my Garmin Navigation unit.
For the next three weeks I realized I had not seen an altitude below 5,000 feet!
The drive was majestic, which for me meant that at such altitudes my journey often felt as if we were in an airplane look down into the many beautiful valleys. But quite often the roads did not have guard rails, which forced me to slow down to about 35 or 40 miles per hour.
My truck has a diesel engine and thus had enough torque to scale the highest sections of my drive, which maxed out at 8,500 +/- feet, or about a mile and a half.
I stopped at nearly every scenic look out, and always took food out of my massive 65 qt Yeti cooler filled with one third dry ice. Kohlrabi and I drank a quart or more of water, and had a bit of food.
God created the views, but having my hound lean against my leg amplified my sense of calm.
However, I made sure to keep my 12 gauge close by and Kohlrabi on a leash. Several times he sensed a mountain lion or a brown bear long before my aged sense of hearing kicked in.
Thankfully I only fired my shotgun once to chase away a brown bear.
My brother-in-law recommended the cooler and said if I put enough dry ice into that cooler, my food and beverages might still be cold when I arrived at his house on the Olympic peninsula.
Donovan is prone to tall tales but when I parked in his driveway at the end of our western journey, sure enough my cooler still have a few nearly frozen bottles of beer.
We settled in his non vehicle garage where he has a gun safe that looks as though it came from our nation's gold reserve at Fort Knox.
He has enough fishing and hunting gear to fill an isle or two in the nearest Cabela.
Before one of his knees started to make angry sounds he rode a bicycle up into elk territory and always came down the mountain with a dressed out elk. He has since admitted he is getting old. His one concession? He now uses an battery powered mountain bike.
Did I mention he was a marine? And a nuclear qualified welder?
When he is not hunting big game, he'll be out on the Pacific ocean catching a type of tuna that has no limit on how many you can catch and keep, or be digging clams of various varieties.
I will add another note about our slow drive south on US 101 which follows the Pacific Ocean.
What a wonderfully alive comment to elicit, Dennis. Thank you for sharing that magically American tale about freedom. Sounds like you pretty much had it all: a pickup truck, a hound, the open road, beer, and a gun safe the size of Houston. All in, a lovely tribute to both Steinbeck and Charlie, such magically American characters. So glad you smiled in my direction...
True.
Also true that the gps navigation bots, which are all too fallible when it comes to directing you, are probably a lot less fallible at their function of tracking you.
But owning, carrying, those trackers isn’t a requirement.
Nor is it kosher-legit to give them to kids. I saw a toddler recently with a fuzzy stuffed toy cell phone in his hand.
The ‘one true ring’s’ cradle-to-grave teething ring.
But net-net calcs are columnar, not circular.
Cue Chris Farley: "Remember when Samson went to the Delilah barbershop for a haircut & an eye-shave & then pulled down those circling columns? That was awesome!"
No doubt, Andy, we are eagerly complicit in our own addictions and enslavement. The kingpins of the technomedia cartel know better than to give these digital devices to their own kids...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bkOIbwNpM-U
"what one man can do another can do!"
Liked that flick. Really liked that lodge, on the water (accessible by float plane), in the Canadian "wilderness" (that was purpose built for the scenes, then taken back down ... "the queen" prolly owns all that land, eh?).
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CDVD3YTRAV8
"Because what you have to be before you try to be a pole vaulter -hello!- is a pole vaulter!"
Liked that part of that flick.
So. Some of these billionaires manage to kill the cell phone bear, so to speak, when it comes to their kids. Part of grooming the dynastic progeny-protege-prototypes?
I'd like to see these good parents ShakingSpeares at grizzlies with a taste for human meat like the Anthony Hopkins character did in The Edge.
What one man do, another can pole vault, too.
Even in the flick, what the one man did, none of the others did - despite repetitive pep-mantra round the campfire.
I read your most recent essay, "Eulogy for Serendipity" with a smile on my face Jeff.
Since I retired in 2006 I have tried to pay homage to one of John Steinbeck's (1902–1968) last works, called "Travels with Charley, In Search of America" which was published in 1962.
I keep my copy of "Travels with Charley" in an easy to reach shelf in my library since it was published. At the time, I was a reporter and editor for the Bangor (Maine) Daily News.
During my early years in the Air Force and later at the newspaper, I devoured Steinbeck's books on what seemed like a weekly basis.
This year, "travels with Kohlrabi" began in August and ended in September.
My goofy hound dog and I took an enjoyable 45 mph drive from FL to lake Erie to WA driving on "US" highways rather than interstate roads in my pickup truck.
And yes, when I fell in love with my puppy at a no kill animal rescue seven years ago, he was already chipped and named Kohlrabi, a popular vegetable in central Europe!
The only bump in our journey occurred when I decided to take the literal "highways" through the Black Hills and the Rocky Mountains.
A few days into that portion of my drive I started noticing symptoms of altitude sickness.
Which led to buying large bottles of water and turning on the altimeter display of my Garmin Navigation unit.
For the next three weeks I realized I had not seen an altitude below 5,000 feet!
The drive was majestic, which for me meant that at such altitudes my journey often felt as if we were in an airplane look down into the many beautiful valleys. But quite often the roads did not have guard rails, which forced me to slow down to about 35 or 40 miles per hour.
My truck has a diesel engine and thus had enough torque to scale the highest sections of my drive, which maxed out at 8,500 +/- feet, or about a mile and a half.
I stopped at nearly every scenic look out, and always took food out of my massive 65 qt Yeti cooler filled with one third dry ice. Kohlrabi and I drank a quart or more of water, and had a bit of food.
God created the views, but having my hound lean against my leg amplified my sense of calm.
However, I made sure to keep my 12 gauge close by and Kohlrabi on a leash. Several times he sensed a mountain lion or a brown bear long before my aged sense of hearing kicked in.
Thankfully I only fired my shotgun once to chase away a brown bear.
My brother-in-law recommended the cooler and said if I put enough dry ice into that cooler, my food and beverages might still be cold when I arrived at his house on the Olympic peninsula.
Donovan is prone to tall tales but when I parked in his driveway at the end of our western journey, sure enough my cooler still have a few nearly frozen bottles of beer.
We settled in his non vehicle garage where he has a gun safe that looks as though it came from our nation's gold reserve at Fort Knox.
He has enough fishing and hunting gear to fill an isle or two in the nearest Cabela.
Before one of his knees started to make angry sounds he rode a bicycle up into elk territory and always came down the mountain with a dressed out elk. He has since admitted he is getting old. His one concession? He now uses an battery powered mountain bike.
Did I mention he was a marine? And a nuclear qualified welder?
When he is not hunting big game, he'll be out on the Pacific ocean catching a type of tuna that has no limit on how many you can catch and keep, or be digging clams of various varieties.
I will add another note about our slow drive south on US 101 which follows the Pacific Ocean.
-30-
What a wonderfully alive comment to elicit, Dennis. Thank you for sharing that magically American tale about freedom. Sounds like you pretty much had it all: a pickup truck, a hound, the open road, beer, and a gun safe the size of Houston. All in, a lovely tribute to both Steinbeck and Charlie, such magically American characters. So glad you smiled in my direction...
Thanks again, and keep trucking'...
Dear Jeff,
It’s quite a great thing that you are doing. I mostly agree with your position, as I did with my father.
My father spent the last 30 years of his life seeking out The Meaning of Life.
The last 5 or 10 years he wrote what he had learned in a Real Life Novel, where he subtly sprinkled what he had learned.
It’s called Little Roads. It’s a very good, well written, worthwhile read. Read every word, Don’t skim or you will miss most of what he is saying.
I will gladly send you a copy of Little Roads. You will love it.
Sincerely,
Rich Dulebohn
I will donate to your writings some day soon
Thank you for the kind note, old friend. I'd love to read Little Roads. Just emailed my home address to you at your yahoo address.