Writing on the Screen

 I got into computers shortly before the turn of the century.

Wow, it feels a little odd to say "turn of the century" and mean the 21st Century, and not the 20th Century.  At least it feels odd for someone born in the middle of the century.

1996

That is when I got a job that required using a PC.  Before I went in for the job interview, I had sat in front of a Mac for about half an hour.  That I was able to get the job despite having no PC experience, says something about the other applicants.  There was a PC portion to the interview.

Be that as it may, it was later in 1996 when a friend built me my first PC out of his spare parts.  And yet, with very limited PC experience, I was able to get a job at Dell, doing Tech Support, in mid-1997.  I think it showed a lot more about how desperate Dell was than how good I was.  But I learned fast.

Now, 23 years later, I still work Tech Support at a State Agency.

More than 2 years ago, I wrote a review of the HP Elite X2.  That was a work PC, and before that I owned an HP iPAQ 214 PDA.  And actually, back during my Dell days I had a Dell Axim PDA.  I am not trying to give you a history of my computing devices, just the ones where I could write on the screen.

With all of these, as well as my Samsung Tab A 10.5, the experience of writing on a glass screen is not great.  I got used to it on my PDA, but I have never liked it at all on any tablet...until now.

I recently bought an Acer Switch 3.

I actually enjoy writing with this stylus on this screen.  I think that the difference is the tip on the stylus, but I cannot tell for sure.

The problem with most 3rd party styluses (styli?) is that they fall in to two categories, passive styli with soft rubber tips, and powered styli, with hard plastic tips.

The soft rubber tip is floppy, and that is its biggest problem.  There is generally some resistance, which is good, but the floppiness of the tip ruins the experience.  The powered stylus, is one that you charge via USB or you use 4A batteries.  The problem is usually that the hard plastic tip on the glass screen gives no resistance at all, so there is no feel.  It is hard to know how much or how little you are moving it through the stylus body.  It works, but not well.

The Acer Switch 3 is different.  There is resistance when you move the stylus across the screen, just like with a pen on paper.  It isn't perfect.  It isn't as nice as a good quality fountain pen when writing on good paper, but it is better than most.

The Acer Switch 3 has a dedicated stylus that came with the unit.  I did not have to pay extra for it.  Something I forgot to mention earlier was my Dell Venue 8 Pro.  It didn't come with a stylus, but I bought the Dell stylus intended for it, and it does not compare to the Acer.

Now, if I could only get a similar experience with my Samsung Tablet.

Jeeves to the Rescue

 No, that is not the title of one of the Jeeves and Wooster novels, though it could be.

In my last entry, I spoke about Covid and coming out of my own little scare about the pandemic, but what I may have failed to adequately express is that I was also coming out of a side scare.  I suffered through a three day bout of anxiety.  Anxiety so bad that I could not sleep, and that eventually my doctor prescribed medication.

One week ago was the worst of it.  The anxiety coincided with our dog falling ill.  She fell down the steps into the backyard and was never the same again.  That happened Friday, and by Saturday morning my anxiety was in full swing.  I couldn't not seem to fill my lungs, I was full of nervous energy and unable to relax, and the walls seemed to close in around me.

Monday, one week ago was the worst, we had to say goodbye to the sweetest dog I have ever known.  This did not help my anxiety, which is why on Tuesday morning I had a virtual visit with my doctor.  After talking to him, some of my panic started to fade.  I took the first of the medication on Tuesday night, and got a good night's sleep and it has been clear sailing since.

Two things helped me get through those three bad days.  Monty Python's Flying Circus made for very familiar, well-loved, and silly background noise through the days, and Jeeves and Wooster were my bedtime companions.

When I feel stressed, I often turn to Wodehouse.  There is stress in his stories, but in most cases, it is Bertie concerned that he might have to get married.  So many of his adventures would cease to have any tension if he could simply say, "no, I will not marry you."

I would lie in bed and read Bertie's adventures almost until the book would fall from my hand.  It literally happened once.  There is no tension when reading Wodehouse...well, maybe once.  There is actually a gun in one of the Psmith stories, and not a hunting rifle, but a pistol, and actually pointed at our hero.  I was actually shocked when I read that story, because things like that do not happen in other Wodehouse stories, and I have read a lot of them.

Psmith, Mulliner, Ukridge, Blandings, Uncle Fred...I have read them all.  Well, I have read at least two novels or stories in each of these series.  I cannot claim to have read them all.  I have read all the adventures of Bertie Wooster, and his valet Jeeves, and many stories that do not fit into the series, but I still have the good fortune of being able to find and enjoy more of the works of P.G. Wodehouse, though they are getting harder to find.  You can find many of the books of P.G. Wodehouse in free editions, at the Gutenberg Project or Amazon Kindle.

So, if you are feeling stressed, I suggest that you go back to what seems like a simpler...and sillier time, when the biggest concern was finding yourself engaged to a beautiful woman who isn't quite your cup of tea.  Find one of the stories told by the bumbling Bertie Wooster and watch while Jeeves performs his miracles with little more than a, "Very good, sir."

Pandemic Opus #1 (PO1)

 I just noticed that I have not written in this Blog for more than 2 years.

At the moment, I feel like an idiot, because for months I have been looking for an outlet for the frustrations of the Covid-19/Coronvirus Pandemic, and only this morning did it occur to me that I already have that place, even if the audience is not quite what I would like it to be.

At least the audience is larger than for my journal, which no one reads.

I may still try to write some pieces like the old ones that got so few views, but this time, I think that I am just going to let my inner rage at the Pandemic out from time to time and damn the consequences.

Part of it is that I just recovered from one of the worst weekends of my life.  Saturday, Sunday and Monday I was suffering from acute anxiety.  The walls seemed to be closing in around me and the air seemed stale.  I had a tight note in my chest, and I could not seem to fill my lungs.  

Now that last symptom, combined with a sore throat put the thought of something much worse into my head, which did not help the panic attacks.

In addition there was a real tragedy for my wife and I that concerned our dog, Abby.  On Friday, she fell while going down the steps into our backyard and she never recovered.  She came in to my room, and lay on the carpet.  On Saturday, we took her out into the front yard twice (no stairs) and while she did not seem completely fine, she seemed okay.  She was able to do her business, but then just came in and lay on the floor, almost not moving.  Sunday was worse, and we could not even get her outside, so Monday we took her to the vet, and after an exam, we made the decision to let her go.

Abby was a loving, sweet soul, and we miss her terribly, and I console with an image that I am almost embarrassed to admit to, but what the hell, here goes.

To preface this, I need to add that Abby had cancer, and several months back, the vet amputated her front right leg.  She had a large tumor on her elbow.  She recovered from that so well, adjusting perfectly that I was sure we had made the right choice, after a brief recovery, she was her bright, happy self again.

I am not really a believer in The Rainbow Bridge, but it brings me solace when I lose a beloved pet.  The thing that brings me solace at this moment is the image of Abby, with all four legs restored, running in that field that they cross the Rainbow Bridge to reach.  There she meets up with Serge, our old Golden Retriever that we lost a few years ago.  Maybe Serge introduced Abby to Medb, an even older dog of ours, and they run and play together.

I cry as I write this because I miss them all so much.  I won't bring my cat Sasha into this because then the crying may not stop for a while, but she waits nearby.  When Serge goes to lie down in the shade, Sasha appears to curl up with him.

Sorry for the rather long aside, but it is an important part of this hellish weekend.  On Monday, we put down Abby, and then I got an appointment with my doctor for Tuesday, a virtual visit.

Monday night was one of the worst of my life.  At 3am, I was so tired that I could no longer hold and focus on my book (Wodehouse) and yet I could not fall sleep.  The air seemed thick and everything smelt stale and the knot in my chest was...I cannot describe it.

I cannot say when I fell asleep, but I woke at 8:55 am and my appointment was for 9. I managed to make the appointment, but...well, I made the appointment.

Three days have passed since then.  The medication my doctor prescribed has allowed me three long restful nights of sleep and the world seems to regained much of its color.  I can breathe freely now.  The knot in my chest is gone.  My appetite has returned.

I thought I knew where this was going when I started.  It didn't go there, but I have a few final thoughts.

• A weather change coincided with my recovery.  Austin (Texas) had been going through a heat wave, with daily highs in the mid 100s and heat indexes near 110.  This did not help.  I could not really go outside for a breath of fresh air, at least not for long and the temperature and humidity made it seem more like drinking air than breathing it.
• On Tuesday, the temperature was only in the mid 90s.  This may not seem like much, but the nighttime lows were getting down into the 70s, and this meant that it was possible to be outside, usually after dark without feeling claustrophobic.
• The Pandemic did not help.  I feel like I cannot go anywhere, so I have no way to go somewhere fresh and try to relax.  Also, so much of the news is depressing.

I am going to bring this to a close and try to get back here sooner rather than later.  Sharing this seems to have helped a little.  Because of the Pandemic, I feel very cut off, separated from others and I hope this will.

Wear a mask, and stay safe.

Growing More Liberal

Winston Churchill is often misattributed for having said something to the effect that if you aren’t a liberal at 20 you have no heart, and if you aren’t a conservative at 40 you have no brains.

It’s not true, at least according to WinstonChurchill.org, but I am going to use it to make a start.

First, it should be said that if Churchill or anyone else every said that, then they were a moron…partially.

History shows us many liberals who remained staunch liberals until the day they died, and present history shows us many young conservatives.  Personally, I can never attribute brains to a conservative, especially not conservative politicians whose feet are found in their own mouths more often than not.

And, while I tend to think that young conservatives have no heart, I also believe that they have no brains…or general awareness of any sort.

But, aside from making for a good rant, that is not my point.  I actually do believe that when you are young you should want to change the world, and if you are completely satisfied, when you are young, with the world around you, then you have no heart, or perception, or brains. 

Then again, from what I can see, young conservatives want to change the world, they are just stupid enough to think that stepping backwards is a useful change.  But, in their hearts, their moronic hearts, they want change.

I also believe that it is natural as you grow older to grow somewhat more conservative.  You may want lots of change when you are young, but as you grow older, the status quo starts to seem more and more like a good idea.

I am a child of the 50s…well, at least I was born there.  I really consider myself a child of the 60s and 70s because I turned 13 in 1970.  I was there…yes, a bit too young, but I was alive when the Summer of Love happened.  I remember when the Beatles arrived in America.  I was only 7, but I had older sisters.

This was the era of Hippies, and thinking that regular people can force change, and they did.  Vietnam protests, and the resignation of a President.

I was a liberal, and tried to work for change…not enough that I am really proud of it, so let’s move on.

As I grew older, I did find myself turning slightly more conservative.  During the Clinton Administration, when things were good, I find myself agreeing occasionally with a friend of mine who is very conservative.

Then George W. Bush happened.  Now, remember that Dubya was elected in in 2000, and if you can remember that far back (4 paragraphs), you might remember that I said I turned 13 in 1970.  Dubya was elected when I was 43.  That is sort of the age where you should be turning conservative, and I couldn’t.

Do you get it yet?

I am more liberal than ever, because the Republican party is forcing me that way.  As the Republicans move further right, from merely conservative over into the moronic end of the spectrum.  And don’t try to tell me that liberals are the moronic end of the spectrum.  Liberals are not asking for religion (creationism) to be taught in science classes.  That is moronic, and that is at the conservative end of the spectrum.  Shut up and own it.

As Republicans get stupider, I have to move further left. 

Newt Gingrich….step left.

George W. Bush…step left…for eight years.

Sarah Palin…step left.

Mitt Romney…step left.

Paul Ryan…step left.

Donald Trump…RUN LEFT!!!  STUPID ALERT!!!

I might have been able to slide slowly to the right as I grew older, but the Republicans have seized the stupid ground, and I keep having to back away.

Blog Wednesday

On my calendar, I have a weekly appointment, every Wednesday from 6:00 to 7:00 PM.  It says Blog.  Its been there for years…in fact, it has been more than a decade, and it might be two decades.  I started this blog, and I wanted to come once a week and write something profound…or funny, or at least entertaining.  Based on the number of readers of the blog, I would have to say that I have failed in that last.

But, I am not really here to write about my blog.  I am here to write about that appointment.  When I check my calendar, I see it, and occasionally I think that I ought to try to keep that appointment, as I am actually doing today.  Well, I have to admit that I am rather late this Wednesday, it is almost 9pm as I write this.

Then again, at least I am here writing.  That appointment has largely been ignored since I placed on my calendar, and I definitely need to put it back a bit.  I now work till 5:30, and I pick up my wife at 6pm and were lucky if we are home by 6:30.

I have just been distracted by my wife, and a pussy cat.

So, good intentions and tradition be damned.  I think that I will move the appointment to 8pm and see if I can sit down and write a little more often.

Plus, I don't really need to write every Wednesday to post to this blog.  I have 9 blog posts sitting in the wings.  The problem is that they aren't finished…well, maybe one or two of them are, but some need a lot of work.

But today I wanted to write, and then move on.

Ingress, Part 3

Finally, in part 3 I will get to my very personal thoughts on Ingress.  The game is so big and complex that is has taken me close to 1500 words to give what I still think is a fairly basic impression of the game.

I used to play Ingress harder than I do now.  I was very gung-ho in the early days.  I progressed quickly, but I tend to do that in all the games I play.

I mentioned in part 2 that Ingress is a loner game.  I'm a bit of a loner.  I started off trying to meet up with other players, and even considered attending one of the game-wide Events, when Austin was a major site.  The problem is that I have a bad back and two bad knees, so lots of walking is hard, and the events tend to involve a lot of walking, from what I've been told.

And then I got a bit disillusioned with Ingress.

My biggest problem with Ingress is that there is no permanence.  You can spend hours hacking, capturing, linking, fielding, etc. and feel really good about what you have accomplished, then go back the next day, and it is all gone.

The proper way to look at it is that the other side has now given you the opportunity to do it all over again.  And I see that, but it is still a bit depressing.  Especially, when you have setup a good farming area, and someone has taken it down, and rebuilt nothing.

Ingress is a lot of repetitive actions.  You go to portals.  You hack portals.  You link portals.  You move on to another portal.  It gets boring at times

My favorite way to play Ingress is to collect many portal keys.  I have about 300 at any given time.  Then, you sometimes get lucky as you move around hacking portals and attempting to link them, and that can be fun.

You can also go out with a specific plan about what you want to link.  I used to go out in basically a big circle around where I live and try to field the entire area.  I do not do that as often anymore, after one day when I headed out on the circle and created field after field, linking back to a portal by my house.  I had spent weeks collecting keys for that portal, as well as others nearby.  In the middle of my circuit…maybe more like three quarters of the way around, I was suddenly unable to link back to my home portal.  I found that someone had come along behind me and taken down that central portal and destroyed most of my work.

Now, you need to understand that this really had little effect on me…game-wise.  I had still earned all the points for creating all those fields, but basically, after hours of work, I was left with nothing to show for it…well, except the AP.  It was frustrating.

The game giveth, and the enemy taketh away.

I still play, but not with the fervor of the past.

Why Aude Khatru?

The story starts more than 40 years ago.  In fact it was either 1973 or 1974.  The confusion is over the year in which the list was published.  What list?  A list of the best albums of 1973.  I think it was in Playboy, and the list was probably published in early 1974.  The top three on the list were…

1. Yessongs - Yes
2. Light as a Feather - Return to Forever
3. Chicago 6 - Chicago

Chicago 6 was one of my favorite albums at the time, and I had to find the two albums that beat it out.  I headed down to my local record store, The Wherehouse.

Now, a quick aside…back in 1974, most single LPs were $3.99 at the Wherehouse.  A lot of my present collection of LPs were bought around this time, and at this price.  In a moment you will see why this is important.

I did not find a copy of Light as a Feather, and it would be a couple more years before I heard Jazz Fusion Supergroup Return to Forever, but I did find a copy of Yessongs.  The problem is that Yessongs is a triple LP, and it cost $10.99.  That sounds like very little now, but for a 17 year old who worked for $1.90/hour, that was a lot of money.  A lot of money for something I had never heard before.

But, I bought Yessongs, and from the moment I heard the strains of the Firebird Suite, which Yes used as an intro to the concerts recorded for Yessongs, I was blown away.  I had never heard anything like it, and I loved it.

I want to say that it changed my life, but other than my taste in music, I am not sure that is really true.  What I can say is that I have never lost my love for the music of Yes.

Khatru comes from the Yes song Siberian Khatru.  I use it as a mark of my love for the music of Yes.

What does Khatru mean?  Hell if I know. 

Jon Anderson, the vocalist for Yes, who wrote the lyrics, said that it meant "as you wish" in Yemeni.  Yemeni isn't actually a language, at best it is an Arabic dialect, and Khatru does not seem to have a meaning anyone can pin down.

Many years ago, my wife found a website that said that Khatru meant Mongoose in Egyptian, or something like that.  I do not remember exactly, and I can no longer find the website.

So, back to the question, what does Khatru mean?  Khatru means, one who considers the group Yes to be important enough to his life to take a word from a song and use it as part of his online name.

That leaves us with Aude.

Aude is a department in southern France.  When I went to France in 1976, Carcassonne in Aude was the first city where I lived.  The river Aude flows north from the Pyrenees and turns east in Carcassonne before heading out to the Mediterranean.  I spent a month or two in the small town of Limoux, which is also on the Aude.

In latin, Aude means dare, as part of the phrase "Sapere Aude" from the First Book of Letters by the Roman poet Horace.  It is my understanding that this is the origin of the French word "audace"  and the English "audacity."

That isn't why I picked it, but I like it.

Then recently, I found that Aude is also a french feminine name.  I don't remember meeting anyone named Aude while I was in France, but I didn't meet more than a few hundred French during my two years, so I may have been unlucky, or it may have been more commonly used since.  This has nothing to do with why I picked it, and it doesn't matter to me now.

Oh, and Aude is pronounced "ode."  Just like the type of laudatory poem.

So, that is why Aude Khatru, or more commonly, AudeKhatru.