What next?

Over the course of the last few days, I've noticed something else that's serving to let me know just how damn old I'm getting: 60's and 70's rock-and-roll set as Elevator Music.

I'm not talking "Way to San Jose", either.

Stuff I've heard has been such things as

• Jeremiah was a bullfrog
• These boots are made for walkin'
• Riders in the Storm
  
• (what I'm pretty sure was) Paint it Black
• White Room

Jeebus. What's next? Purple Haze?

There aughtta be a law...

Turd with a Tail

a.k.a. the Hairy Nuisance, Fur-face, Useless Lump, Her Royal Highness, and a number of other things.

In short, my cat, Elf (shortened from L.F. which is the abbreviation of Lap Fungus).

She "suffers" from a surplus of personality and character:

• If her (dry) food dish is empty (that is, she can see the bottom of it, regardless of how much is still piled up along the sides), she'll let me know by coming and licking my nose - usually at Oh-Dark-Thirty when I'm sound asleep.
• She'll prepare to ambush me by hiding under the corner of the bed - forgetting about her tail, which normally sticks out and ruins the surprise. I've been known to stand just outside of ambush range and give her tail a little shake, which has prompted her to try and leap into the air in surprise; since she's under the corner of the bed, these leaps are frequently accentuated with a solid 'KLUNK!' when her head impacts the bed/frame. A few moments later, she'll appear from under the other side of the bed as though nothing happened.
• She doesn't seem to be sure if she's a dog or a cat: she'll periodically want to play 'fetch' with one of her toys (a stuffed mouse) - I'll toss it, she'll go 'catch' it, beat the crap out of it, and bring it back for another go - several times. That, and she has a predeliction for licking (not just once, but repeatedly) me whenever I give her a little 'scritch' (soft scratching) anywhere on her body. Since a cat's tongue is a LOT rougher than a dogs (think 60-grit sandpaper), it's a cheap way of getting dermabrasion...
• She won't eat solid canned food. She's fine with the Iams she has available all the time, but the canned food I give her to supplement her diet (a couple ounces every other day) has to have water added and mixed in until she has something resembling soup before she'll eat it. This isn't just for SOME brands of canned food, but ALL of them.
• Half or more of the chunks of dry food have to be dug out of the dish and knocked around on the kitchen floor before they can be eaten.
• Her food dishes are in the kitchen; therefore, if I go into the kitchen, it's obviously to feed her. If I fail to do so, she'll lay in the middle of the floor (making me work around her) in protest.
• She is absolutely fascinated by inkjet printers. I'm a computer geek, and work with a variety of printers for one reason or another; if I run a test print, Elf is there to keep an eye on it.
• Similarly, CDROM/DVD drive trays MUST be beaten/slapped as they close - apparently just to make sure they know who's in charge.
• When I go to bed, it is mandatory that I spend a couple of minutes rubbing her ears, petting her, and generally demonstrating my subservience before she'll let me go to sleep. If I don't do it long enough, I'll get head-butts, the inside of my nose sniffed, or any one of a number of other attention-garnering maneuvers.

"There are many intelligent species in the Univers. They are all owned by cats."

AARP and me

Yes, that's the American Association of Retired Persons - a.k.a. The Geezer Club.

Some months ago, they sent me an invitation to join (I'm soon to turn 53, if it matters); I responded by sending their invitation and application back to them with the explanation that I don't agree with their positions on just about everything(1). I also told them that I didn't want to be bothered again. Yes, I know that I could get a host of various benefits were I to join; however, joining would also add my membership fees/dues to their resources, and thus enable them (that much more) to espouse positions that I don't agree with.

Yesterday, I got an offer for AARP life insurance.

I've sent the (un-completed) offer back with the handwritten annotation that I don't want any, ever, and asking that I be removed from their list.

I've also sent them a digitally-signed email advising them that I wish to be removed from any and all AARP mailing lists, offers, products, proposals, or anything else AARP-ish. Here's hoping the senile old gits get the message this time.

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(1) The AARP is against the idea of requiring proficiency testing for older drivers and against the idea of 'means testing' for eligibility to receive Social Security benefits, for example.
Yes, pulling someones drivers license is denying them a measure of freedom - but it's also protecting the public at large from a possibly dangerous driver. I wonder if they'd fuss if the DL laws were written so that alternate license renewals required proficiency testing...
And I don't see any reason why someone with a 7-figure (or more!) bank account should be collecting Social Security checks: they clearly have quite enough 'security' methinks...

Uh-oh

With a hat-tip to Randy, it turns out that I'm more of a nerd than I thought (but not as bad as I was afraid :-) )

Hope is not lost!

Courtesy of XKCD

Damn kids...

So, I go into a local coffee shop to cop a little wifi, and order a cup of "unleaded"...

Whereupon the kid behind the counter gets this deer-in-the-headlights look on his face. I then have to re-specify that I want decaf.

When I get it, he asks me "What's the deal with 'unleaded'? I heard about it in a science class, but I never really understood it."

After I explain to him about gas stations and Regular versus Unleaded, he understands the reference - and I realise that he never knew about gas stations offering anything but unleaded gasoline.

On the heels of that I realized just how OLD I am.

Crap.