Our last best defense

It pains me to share this with you, because I found it at the Cupertino branch of the Santa Clara County Library:

Seriously, when library staff allow this to happen, we are just plumb on the express train to hell.

Hit the road, Jack

It’s rather comforting to know that even here in the Valley They Call Silicon, where Disruption-R-Us, there are some traditions that live on.

Like the proper disposal of post-Halloween Jack O’Lanterns:

I personally think that not nearly enough force was applied in this operation, but I suppose that the terms of execution are open to interpretation. And to the strength/age category of the pumpkin tosser.

Well done, little thought leader(s). Well done.

Park it right here

A couple of years ago I had to fly out of Oakland (which I’ll never voluntarily do again), and used one of the off-site vendors of long-term parking. Their online user interface that was supposed to have resulted in a discount for several days of parking was dreadful and didn’t match with the on-site experience. They double-charged me and it took a slew of emails to get them to remove the second charge.

Naturally, by the time we were done, all hopes of getting the confirmed discount were gone into the ether.

I’ve heard nothing from them since, thankfully, so imagine my surprise the other day when this appeared in my queue:

They don't specify, but I'm assuming you're meant to park your car with them while you're on the vacation. Not happening.

And note to all businesses: please concentrate on delivering the product or service you promised, at the stated and contracted price before you start trying to entice consumers into pseudo-promotions.

The void before the storm

The transition period between Halloween and Christmas doesn’t last long any more in the retail world. I was in Target yesterday and came across this one guy beginning the enormous task of setting up the major display for lights, decorations, wrapping paper and who-knows-what-all:

Just a couple of aisles away there was this rather poignant statement:

And right across from Mr. Jack was…this. I don’t know whether it’s left over from Halloween or in prep for Christmas. You decide.

I might have picked up some candy to tide me over the time while negotiating an offer, but all they really had left was a bunch of Reese’s bags, and I’d starve before eating that stuff.

I'll bet that kid in the middle of nothing would be ready for even the Reese's by now, though.

Gratitude Monday: All Souls

It’s been rather a tough year for me in terms of losing friends to death, so let me take advantage of Gratitude Monday coinciding with All Souls' Day to pull back—pull in—and both mourn and rejoice for two of them in particular.

I’ve written about John and Leilah before, even though of course there aren’t enough words. You have loved ones like them, too, if you’re lucky.

Over the weekend I’ve been dosing myself with requiems—mostly Verdi’s and Mozart’s. But I don’t think you need to come here for 60 to 90 minutes’ worth of solemnity. El Día de los Muertos is about celebrating the dead and knowing that some day we’ll be among them, either corporeally or spiritually, however you view such things.

So here are a couple of shorter pieces that are indelibly entwined in my memory with my two friends. First, “Poor Wand’ring One”, from Pirates of Penzance, which John introduced me to in my junior year of college. (I well recall Julie, a fellow student in my military history class, giving me a précis of this particular song, including the cadenza.)

This version is from the D’Oyly Carte, the company John loved the best for Gilbert & Sullivan.

Leilah’s song is Mary Black’s cover of “Bless the Road”, here paired with her “Speaking with the Angel”. She loved this piece; her sweet companion was her son, Anthony. It was on a DC I made for her to give him when he was in hospital.

We’re heading into the dark time of the year, when we step up our efforts to fill the night with light both literally and metaphorically. All Souls' Day gives us the opportunity to step between life and death, to consider those who’ve gone ahead of us and perhaps reflect on how we’ll make that journey ourselves. There was a time when this was meaningless to me, but I get it now. And I’m grateful for it.

Creepy crawlies

We’re on the cusp of Halloween, so I thought I’d check in on how people are preparing to impress their neighbors for the occasion. As you know, in the past, there have been quite the elaborate yard decorations, from zombies to a couple of dozen skeletons. From what I’ve seen in the past few weeks, inflatables have begun to take market share for the holiday, and bones are big.

Entire yards have been turned into graveyards—rendered with greater verisimilitude on account of the residents letting the grass go brown in the drought.

Your usual skeletons and ghouls (with the addition this year of snakes):

And this unique skeleton—recycled, as befits a house with one of those three-wheeled electric cars attached to the power mains in the driveway:

A few witches, including this one in a tree swing:

And I rather liked the glow-in-the-dark bat (one of many hanging in a tree that trick-or-treaters will have to pass to get to the Snickers):

Spiders seem to be hitting their stride this year—I’ve seen them in all sizes and colors, and it's a good thing arachnids don't bother me, or I wouldn't be able to leave the house:

 

And, finally, one house that pretty much tries to do it all.

Own the dark, people.

Up--and then not

You gotta love America—in what other country in the world could the story of the day be about a military blimp breaking free from its moorings in Maryland and making a run for it to Pennsylvania?

First of all—who even know we still have military blimps? That look a whole lot like the barrage balloons that were deployed during WWII? (They’re called Joint Land Attack Cruise Missile Defense Elevated Netted Sensor System, or JLENS, which doesn’t even make sense.)

As if that weren’t bizarre enough, a couple of F-16s were dispatched to follow the blimp’s flight—that would be fighter jets trying trailing a lighter-than-air craft that…drifts. Think the OJ chase but in the air.

Twitter, as you might imagine, went, uh, ballistic. E.g.:

And there were memes about first responders on the ground:

They weren’t that far off the mark, because Jimmy May of the Bloomsburg Press Enterprise got the money shot:

The rogue blimp eventually came down in Pennsylvania of its own accord. There were no fatalities, but it did not go gentle into that good night. It knocked out power to a large number of people in the area.

It turns out that JLENS program costs a lot of money, and has apparently been troubled. So somebody got some ‘splaining to do.

On the up side—there’s an opening for a blimp monitor. No lie; it’s on LinkedIn.

Also—“Rogue Blimp” would be an awesome name for a rock band.

Property ladder

It doesn’t take much to sell real estate in the Valley They Call Silicon. Putting out a sign in front of something that vaguely looks like it was intended for habitation is generally sufficient to get several offers.

For a while I noticed this one in front of a condo complex:

The “Honey, stop the car!” bit was a first. Whether it made a difference I don’t know—this was a three-bedroom flat listed for $819,000. (As an aside, four years ago units in this complex were selling for around $450,000. It’s a little over a mile from the new Apple headquarters.)

But a couple of days later I noticed this:

So something worked.

Not the mean streets, the other ones

You know, just driving around the surface streets of the Valley They Call Silicon you can find enough material for several novels. Because in California, your transportation module is so much more than a ride. It’s your platform for informing the world What You Think.

I recently shared the statement that hovered between Star Wars and slugs. Here’s a more modest vehicle with a bit of a flourish:

But something I came across just yesterday required me to sidle up to the truck (looked like a landscaper or gardening service) to read and then reflect upon the meaning.

Gratitude Monday: Bits and pieces

For Gratitude Monday I’m thinking small today. I’m feeling grateful for the things around me that don’t always grab my attention, but make my life good.

A weekly walking meetup with a few stalwarts who show up every time, and new people who cycle in. There’s always something to talk about, and the leader sets a bodacious pace.

Comfort food—making a batch of individual cottage pies and freezing them for future dinners. Having a freezer big enough to be able to freeze a bunch of individual cottage pies.

A city park (well, all of them, really) filling up on a Sunday morning with kids playing soccer, every bit as intent as Man U or Madrid Réal.

Clean, warm bedding that prevails against chilly autumn nights.

Quiet places, in the midst of the Valley They Call Silicon, where you can find stillness if you look for it, where hummingbirds and woodpeckers speak solace.

Music—all forms of music accessible from multiple sources.

Clean, potable water—even after four years of drought.

Sharing coffee with a friend, a smile with a stranger.

Small things. Yet both individually and in the aggregate, cause for thanks.