What You Pay For

OK, first a bit of explanation. Sound is very important to me. My vision is horrible. Even with glasses, I now struggle to read. My Kindle with text I can enlarge is essential. And things I used to do easily, such as cross-stitch, can now only be accomplished if I use additional magnification. But my hearing is excellent. I was in my 30s before I realized it wasn't a good idea to answer Yes to the question, "I often hear voices others don't," on certain information forms because it was a way of identifying people with mental illness, not people like me with exceptional hearing. I love listening to music as I work. My Amazon cloud is chock full of all sorts of music, from Chris Isaak singing "Ring of Fire" to Rachmaninoff, from Manilow to Chopin (actually, not such a stretch there, but I'll save that for another post on modern composers ripping off the old farts), and from Abba to Stile Antico.

Now when I bought my previous computer--good Lord, that was 12 years ago!--I got a really nifty five-speaker set as a freebie to go with some upgrades I had purchased. I loved that set of speakers! And so over the past few weeks, I've grown concerned that the volume kept decreasing and the sound would waver in and out. I checked every line. Even took every plug out and replugged it back in several times. I checked every cord to make sure a cat hadn't been snacking on it. Nothing helped. So I wasn't terribly shocked when the whole thing just quit earlier today. Bummer!

And there are some things that can be done on a computer with no sound, but lots of things such as my World of Warcraft and, of course, my music, absolutely must have the speakers. So off to Best Buy I went. Having checked out the options on-line, I pretty much knew what I wanted. Another five-piece set that was going to cost me about $100. Well, you know, $99.99 before taxes. A very nice young man met me just inside the door and directed me to the speakers area when I informed him of the purpose of my visit. I was just reaching for the set I had reviewed when he pointed out a smaller set just next to it. Only 3 speakers--two small tower units and the subwoofer thingy on the floor--by a company called Insignia. And only $70. "This," he said, "is the set I have and it's really great. The sound is fantastic." Hey, I thought, why not? Fewer cords to have to mess with. Just plug in a couple of things and away I go. And if the store geek says they're good, why not save $30?

So I brought my little box home and in about 3 minutes I had everything set up. I waited not so patiently as my computer took its good old time booting back up. And then I brought up my Cloud and started up a song. It randomly selected Queen's "Princes of the Universe." YE GADS!! WHAT HAVE I DONE???

That store gremlin must have blown out his eardrums playing his iPod too loudly. No amount of tweaking the treble or stifling the bass makes it sound any better. Even the dogs came over to look at the offending sounds emanating out of the new speakers! Seriously, how bad does something have to sound before the DOGS start complaining about it??

I've sat her for the last 45 minutes trying to decide what to do. I hate taking things back. I hate the hassle that comes with having to pack something up, driving all the way back to the store, filling out the paperwork, explaining why I don't want it because I'm such a sound snob, and getting what I really wanted all along. My own fault, I have to admit. You do get what you pay for, and I tried to get by on the cheap. When it comes to sound, money may not talk but it sure sings a lot better!

Too Plugged In??

We've all heard lately how we're too tuned in to the electronics in our lives. The cell phones, the computers, the laptops, the iPads, etc., etc. There's always something demanding our attention. Well, last night I got a real lesson in just how far I've slipped down that slope. This is an absolutely true story.

Last night around 10:00 p.m., I climbed into my bed. I was exhausted and I was really looking forward to just melting into my tempurpedic mattress (Ask me!) and falling blissfully asleep. My head hit the pillow and I glanced up at the window. Big mistake! There was a green flashing light reflecting in my bedroom window. It was right over my head. On----off----on----off.

All right, what electronic did I have in the bedroom that was causing this reflection? Surely, it was my smart phone. Darned thing! I've had it for a couple of months now and only figured out how to answer calls on it this week. That must be it. I jumped out of bed and grabbed it off the table. Hmmm. Not the smart phone. It was completely dark. No flashing lights anywhere. OK, OK, my Kindle. I was recharging it. I picked it up, turned it every direction. No flashing light. I looked back over at the window: On----off----on----off.

The TV? Nope. The projection alarm clock? No. The satellite box? The DVD player? The iPad? No, No, and no!!! Now this was really starting to get to me. Again, I looked at the window. And now the flashing was faster. On-off-on-off-on-off. Obviously, whatever this thing was needed immediate attention. I frantically looked around the room. Nothing.

All right then--it HAD to be my car. It's parked right under the bedroom. Something in or on the car must be flashing and reflecting that light. It was raining out, so I plastered my face right against the window to see down to the car.

Good Lord! Did that light just move? Yes, it did!! It's moving. It's going higher up the window. Dear Jesus, help me. Either I'm hallucinating or else some electronic device in my home has just become sentient and is making its way to me to get help.

OK, I can hear you laughing at me. It's all right. But how many of you have figured it out yet? Another scan of the bedroom yielded nothing that seemed to be moving. It must be something outside. This time, I pushed my face right up to the light in the window, hoping maybe I could track back the light source sort of the way they do in CSI.

That's when the light looked back. Having found refuge on my window from the rain storm and with his little belly against the glass, there he was. On--off--on--off. Good night, lightening bug! What can I say? I laughed myself to sleep last night.

It's A Cat's Life

As most of you know, I typically blog about my dogs despite the fact that I have 5 cats and only 3 dogs in my household. Dogs truly are a person's best friend! So what, then, is the role of a cat? Well let me tell you. A cat's responsibility is to keep us humble.

I once heard on a show about domestic animals that dogs look at a human and say, "You give me food; you give me shelter; you give me love. You must be a god." Cats, on the other hand, look at a human and say, "You give me food; you give me shelter; you give me love. I must be a god.!" I don't think there's any way to say it better.

Let me give you an example from my life with cats. Over the past week, I've walked into my kitchen a bunch of times and found coffee grounds on the counter. I've repeatedly chastized myself for being so messy every time I fix a cup of coffee. As you may have learned in an earlier post, I switched to Gevalia coffee a while back. This means that instead of using the premade K-pods in my Keurig brewer, I pack loose coffee into a My Cup filter to brew. And then I have to dump the used grounds into the trash. So there's a lot more opportunity for mess.

Still, I was just astonished that over and over again I would walk into the kitchen only to find that the last time I had apparently left it with grounds on the counter. In fact, it had become quite unnerving. I would be certain I had tidied up after myself only to come back in later to find that I hadn't tidied up at all. Obviously, the answer was that I had begun to experience some level of cognitive failure. My memory was clearly starting to go!

Until, that is, this morning. This morning, I was working away at my computer. Now I'm usually in exactly the same place most days, since I work mostly from home. But I always have my music playing. Not really loudly, but at least enthusiastically. This morning, no music. And so it was that I was able to hear tiny little rustlings coming from the kitchen. As I was in the midst of an important set of slides for my class, I didn't jump up right away to go investigate. But after a few moments, I decided I had better check it out. And there was my cat, Anna, leaning way down into the trash bin and digging away as if she were in her litter box. And to my astonishment, the purpose behind this seemed to be to dig the coffee grounds out of the trash. Her efforts this morning truly had beaten all previous results. This was due (I'm sure) to the fact that I had indulged in a second cup so there were twice as many grounds for her to dig out.

As I walked in and saw what was going on, she popped her head out of the bin with an expression that clearly read, "Busted!" Before I could do or say anything, she jumped out and took off running down the hallway. But I'm quite certain I heard that distinctive little sound all cat people will recognize as a cat giggle.

Yep, Miss Anna was doing her part to keep me humble!

Dogs, Dogs, and More Dogs!

I thought I'd use the blog today to brighten up your day with some dog photographs and videos.

This first one was taken while I was dogsitting my sister-in-law's dog, Tori, and my Mother was staying with me so I had her dog, Misty, as well. Going clockwise from the beagle-basset mix in the back, left corner, we have (1) Ceili, (2) Jack Daniels, or JD as he's called, (3) Coop, (4) Misty, and (5) Tori.

Last year, I had a section of the yard fenced in. This year, I bought us a 10' x 10' canopy. It's wonderful! We all love to go out and hang out together in the lovely warm afternoons. Get too hot, and you come under the canopy for a drink of water and a bit of rest. I can even work out there with my laptop. Life doesn't get any better than that!

And finally, what is intelligence? That is a question that has fascinated me for many, many years. I've gained some insights more into what it isn't than what it is. It isn't the same thing as a formal education. That was a faulty definition I had for a long time. And I don't even think it's the same thing for everyone. I believe a somewhat standard definition of intelligence is how well someone is able to learn. But I'm not sure about that. The ability to learn new things is certainly one component of intelligence, but it doesn't mean that an intelligent person can learn anything. It's entirely possible for a person to be capable of excelling in just one area and still be extremely intelligent.

Which brings us to what is intelligence in dogs? There are various "IQ" tests for dogs. One involves putting a cloth over the dog's head and seeing how long it takes him/her to take the cloth off. Poodles are thought to be extremely intelligent. Certainly, I would put the poodle I had growing up named Gensel's Cherie Amour among the most intelligent dogs I've ever known. She used to go look at herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door right after she  got back from the groomer's. No one will ever convince me she wasn't checking out her new "do." Which, of course, requires a level of self-awareness that the image reflected in the glass is you. Astonishing!

JD is certainly an intelligent dog. He's been described by the canine professional with whom I've worked as being too smart for his own good, as he's always able to figure out when he's being manipulated and turn that manipulation right back on us. Take, for example, the use of the ecollar to stop him from barking. Coop has never figured out the business of having the collar put on and associated that with feeling little tinglies when he isn't behaving nicely. But JD figured it out in only 2 sessions. So he learned if the ecollar is on, he stays quiet. But when the collar comes off, oh Lordy! He immediately begins making up for lost barking time. And JD can, quite literally, herd cats. Five of them, in fact. So I strongly suspect he could herd just about anything. There's got to be a ton of smarts behind that.

And Ceili? Well, she's an enigma. I bought a dog puzzle that requires the dog to move a series of bone-shaped plastic pieces that fit into tracks in order to obtain treats. Both Coop and JD figured the thing out within a half-hour. Ceili took one look at it, immediately smacked each of the bones with her paw, and grabbed up all the treats. Her expression was clearly, "Is that all you've got?" But in learning anything remotely practical (e.g., sitting on command), I'd rather try to train a cement block.

The latest venture into dog intelligence was an Orbee maze ball I just purchased. You put treats into the thing. The inside of it has a maze of plastic pieces. So the dog has to really work to roll the ball about in order to get the pieces of treats to come out the hole in the ball. The timing was great, as I had four dogs to test it on--JD, Ceili, Coop, and Tori (our visitor). The results:

1. Both Ceili and Tori looked at the ball, then looked at me. Then they looked at the ball. Then they looked at me. Neither of them would make any effort to touch the ball or roll the ball. Even demonstrations by me as to how it worked had no effect on either of them. They just walked away.
2. JD immediately got the concept there were goodies inside the ball. Unfortunately, he totally refused to roll the ball about to get them to come out. He was all for the direct approach--rip the ball apart and chew it viciously until it yielded up its treasures. Again, multiple attempts to demonstrate the "proper" way to get the treats had no effect on him. If he couldn't get those  treats out by savagery, then never mind.
3. Coop? Ahh, you gotta see for yourself in this video. Sorry, it was too big to include directly into the blog. What can I say? No demonstrations necessary for him. My wunderkind! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WFR3x5fK9mQ 

Do You Believe?

OK, what I'm about to say right now may come as a bit of a shocker to some of you out there--I don't believe in an afterlife. Please note the emphasis on the word believe. That is, I don't believe in it in the sense of having faith that something exists even though you can't see it or hear it or touch it. I don't believe in an afterlife because I know with certainty it does exist. I believe in it the way I believe in the sun. In fact, I regularly communicate with any number of folks who have "crossed over." Its been that way ever since I was a kid. I remember the day my Mother came to tell us kids my Grandfather Gensel had passed away. We were playing in one of the bedrooms when Mom came to give us the news. My response was, "I know." When she asked how I knew, I said he'd just been there, in the bedroom, to tell me. He had told me he had to go away, but he wanted me to know that he'd always be watching out for us kids.

Mom, who came from a very fundamentalist Christian background, instructed me I was to never, ever tell anybody I had seen or talked to a dead person. So for many, many years, I didn't. It hasn't been all that long ago that I confided this to a couple of very close people, only to find they did exactly the same thing! And I don't think it was a coincidence that I chose these two people to discuss this particular "ability" with.

One of these two people (whom I won't "out" in this blog) knew my Father and his mother, my Grandmother Gensel. One of the most interesting things I learned was that neither of us had ever had any contact with either one of them after they had passed. Just nothing. Whenever I thought of either of them, there was just a cold emptiness in my mind. Not that I ever found that a bit surprising. These two individuals were like two peas in a pod. Both totally self-centered. The only people either of them ever loved was themselves.

In a rather odd twist of fate, they shared the same birthday of February 14th. That's right, Valentine's Day. And wouldn't you think that any mother whose first child had been born on that day would have said it was the greatest combination birthday and Valentine's Day gift they could have ever gotten? Not her. Oh, no sir! Her only feeling about it as I heard her say many a time was to complain about how long she'd been in labor and how she'd had to miss her own birthday because of it. Anyway, Dad was just like her. I once described to a therapist how Dad never seemed to get joy out of anything in his life. Not ever. Nothing he did or ever had seemed to give him one moment of pleasure. I absolutely cannot think of a more miserable way to live an entire life. But that's how he lived his. Plus, the man was just plain mean. He never once gave a thought to anyone else's wants or needs. The only thing of interest to him was what he wanted.

But wait, I can do better than this in describing him. Do you remember the TV show M*A*S*H? Anybody remember the character Frank Burns? Well, I have always been convinced that character was actually based in large part on my father. The only difference between Frank and my father was that Frank was married and Dad wasn't during his time as a surgeon's assistant with a MASH unit in the Korean War. Yep, that's right. Dad was there. Whoever developed that character, I am certain, knew my Dad in Korea!

Perhaps its not too surprising, then, that I don't often think about him. Which makes this morning a real exception to the rule for me. I'm not exactly sure how it all got started. I was washing dishes before going to work this morning. Since that's a pretty mindless task, I was thinking about other things, beginning with what I wanted to have to drink with my breakfast. I had settled on Chai tea. I have a Keurig brewer and keep a large variety of K-cup options on top of my refrigerator.

Then I got thinking about the few things Dad had taught me (a) on purpose and (b) that were positive influences in my life. You see, Dad taught me lots of things by accident by being the negative of the lesson such as the great joy of music, giving to charities, and trying to deal fairly with other people even if I don't know them. But the number of purposeful and positive items can be counted on the fingers of one hand--how to drive a car well, how to ride a horse, and good table manners. And so I gave a silent "Thank You!" to my Dad this morning for these things, two of which have stood me in good stead throughout my life. I think I'll let you guess which two. LOL!

And just as I had that thought, I kid you not, the box of Chai tea K-cups came flying off the fridge and onto the floor. As I had just turned to look for any other dirty dishes on the counter, I got a good look at it as it came off. I was so totally convinced a cat must have shoved it off, I got up on the step stool and picked up every box looking to find one of them hiding back there. But no. Nor could that box have just toppled off. It sits well back on the fridge. Nearly half-way back and with other boxes on either side of it. And with seven different varieties up there, the one I had just decided to have for breakfast is the one that comes whizzing off? Nope, that's just not a coincidence in my book. That was definitely Dad.

And maybe, just maybe, I told myself as I pulled out one K-cup and put the box back on the fridge, he's learning how to think of someone else for a change and was trying to be helpful. Maybe there's hope for him yet!

Ceili Days

I always feel bad for my little dog, Ceili. She is, I strongly suspect, the oldest of my dogs. Probably somewhere between 13 and 15 years old. We're not sure, as I got her as an adult. That was nearly 8 years ago, and she was no spring chicken then.

Ceili isn't the sort of dog I'd choose for myself. In fact, I didn't choose her. My other dog, JD, "picked" her. My sister found her one hot summer's day in the City Building in Clarksburg. Most likely, she had gone in through an open door in hopes of finding a cool spot. I really didn't want her. I wasn't in a good situation to take on another dog at the time. But once JD saw her, I guess it was just love at first sight. After I'd said, "No way!" JD said, "WAY!!" He used the Gandhi approach--he refused to eat, he refused to play, and all he would do is to lay at the top of the stairs looking out the side windows on the front door where he'd seen her go. After three days, I couldn't take it any more, so I told my sister I'd take her.

And I can't say we were Ceili's top pick, either. For a couple of years, she would try to escape whenever she got the chance. She made it quite clear she would much prefer a home with (a) children and/or (b) a tractor. Twice in those early years, she got loose when the neighbor across the road was working in his field. She'd run down the hill, across the road (OMG!), and just start following behind his tractor. I'm quite certain this had been a big part of her routine where ever she had lived before.

But over time, we've at least gotten used to each other. But I still feel badly for her. She doesn't play any sort of games. She won't play with any toy. She won't chew bones. Nothing the other dogs like to do. She does like to go out for walks, especially in the woods. But Lord help us she is the most annoying dog to walk I've ever seen. She thinks she has to pee every few feet to mark her territory. And when she runs out of pee?? What can I say--she improvises!

She does like to eat. That is one thing that brings great delight to her day. So every morning and every evening, I sing her little getting ready to eat song and she does a happy dance while I get it ready. I can always tell if she's not feeling well if I don't see that happy dance.

There is, however, one thing that makes her unbelievably happy. She loves days like today. Its those first warm days of Spring. Not too hot yet, but definitely not too chilly. It can't be raining or have been raining within the past 24 hours so as to make the grass wet underfoot. The sun has to be out and the earth feel warm. She loves to go spend hours outside on such days. She will lie down for a bit in the shade and then go stroll about in the sun. Sometimes she'll lay on the back porch, but usually she'll prefer to be out in the grass. Often times, she'll dig up a bit of dirt and stretch out on that.

There aren't too many days that fit all of Ceili's requirements. I think I've come to cherish each one as much as she does. Especially now that I see more and more gray coming onto her face and see the tremors in her legs getting worse and worse as she gets older. There are only so many Summers, baby. Only so many Springs. So we'll enjoy each one as much as we possibly can together.

Oh, Johann!

I've always been of the opinion that commercials are very much akin to a Jedi mind trick--they're effective, but only on the weak minded. I don't buy my fabric softner based on a cuddly bear or my insurance based on a cute gecko (although I love the way he dances in the Texas commercial), and I laugh every time the Yoda & Darth Maul Lipton Tea commercials come on but I still brew my own iced tea.

Of late, there has been a series of commercials for Gevalia coffee. Have you seen them? These commercials feature a young man with long, blond hair and an obviously European accent. He's absolutely gorgeous. He compares our American cup of "joe" to the Gevalia coffee, which he refers to as johann. In one commercial, he tells us that johann won't power walk with you at the mall, but he will rub your feet. In my favorite, he comes to the rescue of a young woman working in an office-standard cubicle. He tells her that johann will get her to that coveted corner office with a young assistant who looks just like him. Its a fantasy, but let's face it, its a powerful one.

What really surprises me about the Gevalia campaign is that it is so obviously targeted strictly to women! Given that men now do so much grocery shopping, either as an active couples partner or because they live alone, I find it odd they would essentially exclude half the population from their advertising. I have half been expecting to see a similar series directed at men, but so far nothing.

Its been decades since I've had Gevalia coffee. It used to be available exclusively through a mail order program where you automatically received a bag every month or so. One of the key messages in these new commercials is that Gevalia is now available in grocery stores. Heck, Starbucks did it, so I guess that makes it OK for a high-class company such as Gevalia to step down off their self-proclaimed pedastel and do likelwise. But what I found so particularly odd about these commercials is that when I found myself in the coffee aisle the other day in need of a new bag of coffe, I seriously debated getting the Gevalia. They had a nice selection of roasts available and I stood there in store carefully considering each possible selection.

Did their advertising ploy work, you ask? Did I reach for that bright, yellow bag of Gevalia? Well, see for yourself.

Yep, I had breakfast with johann this morning. What can I say? It was wonderful! Johann was all he was promised to be. The first sip made me want to take another and then another. Before I knew it, I was sitting at the breakfast table alone with an empty cup. I dashed to the kitchen. I must have more johann! I fixed a second cup and was as quickly done with it. Alone again and quite sad.

And now, you will simply have to excuse me. Because after two cups of coffee, I must burn off this ridiculous caffeine high by walking a few hours and I have got to find out if johann comes in decaf! See y'all later. Ohh, I wonder when my new hunk of an assistant arrives? Do you suppose he can type??