Category: Randy, Author

I “know”. Hugs.

Ok. Fair warning, as this is still fresh for me. I don’t imagine this post flows right, but here goes:

As a man well into my 50’s, I should not allow myself to feel the same bullying I felt in childhood. I shouldn’t allow the blather of others to live within my soul, my thoughts, to change my outlook, to destroy my peace. But I did. I most certainly did.

Recently, in partnership with another employee, I was given the task of wiring in an actuator control switch. I was looking forward to this task because I have little experience with this type of electronics and wiring, and the person I was to be working with had a lot of experience but his age was making the physical work difficult. A great pairing, I thought.

He ordered the components and designed the support structure while I assembled the structuring and then attempted to follow his written directions on the wiring. I told him I didn’t understand his wiring diagram but I’d do my best and let him know if I had problems. Yep, I had problems.

This older man entered back into the project angry. Ok, he is always angry. But, I called him back into it because I had done the best I could, the very best I could, but I was at a loss. So, I left everything open, labeled, easily changed. His first words were “Why in the hell did you do it like that?”

Ok, I’m new at this. How would you have done it. Grumpily, he tells me. Cool, information! I can use this in the future! Then, he grumpily complains about how I’ve done it again.

And again. And again. And again. And again. He complains about my multimeter, which is owned by the shop, not me, and is the only one I have available. Why did you buy this meter? This is a stupid design. Anyone who uses a meter like this shouldn’t be using a meter. Why did you leave so little wire where this gets connected? (He ordered the wire, and I used every bit of it as best as able). You should have left more. Dammit, this is horrible, why’d you leave this so short? You should have left more….

Outwardly I stood quiet, but, inside sat a little boy who couldn’t hold a flashlight right or grab a 7/16 box end wrench fast enough. I tell you now, when I realized I had put my hands in my pockets I ripped them out so fast I’m surprised I didn’t start a friction fire!

This type of stuff continued, repeatedly continued. I’d done the best I could with what I had available. I’d done the best I could to understand his diagram. I’d done the best I fucking well could!….. and all I could do was hold back the scream that it was all unfair and swallow my own anger as he let his flow. I needed to get this component wired and get this machine working again. I needed his help.

I’m a grown-assed man well into my 50’s, why am I suddenly that little boy again? Why am I so incapable of lifting my head? Why am I so hurt by someone so much smaller than I am? Why did I allow myself to be so abused?

Wiring complete, machine put back together. I trained the operators, watched them operate the machine successfully, then quietly collected my tools and went home. On the way home another driver passed me on the highway as I was changing lanes. He was speeding, nearly hit me – I could have reached out my window and changed his radio station! Then he sped away on the highway, and I was pissed! Finally, I was pissed!! I’d had enough this day and dammit someone was going to pay! I chased that guy for two miles at over 90 miles an hour before I realized that – a: I was never going to catch him in my little car. And, b: I needed to forgive that man or I was going to end up in an accident or jail or both.

Many years ago I stumbled upon a little blog that talked about a lot of stuff. I read his offered story, read his posts, then one day I commented. See, I liked how he signed off on his posts with “hugs”. We became grand friends, this virtual hugger and me, and I learned how incredibly important hugs were to him, and to my surprise, to me. To receive them, and to give.

Of course, I know this is a sad, angry, lonely, pathetic old man. I know this is just how he is, and I’ll never see him different. But. I also “know” he spoke to me that way because I was no good. I “know” I was horrible at my job. I “know” I’m dumb. I “know” I had no business trying to do that wiring job. I “know”… I “know”… Yeah, I “know”.

Hugs.

Randy

Why Was I so Offended?

A short time ago, a post was put on this blog that spoke on Trump’s abuse of one of our treasures, Arlington Cemetery. I was mad, and my words were less than professional. I am sorry if I came across rude to other readers, crude, immature. I was mad, and that seemed to loosen the controls on my mouth and typing fingers.

I recently shared my – reaction – to that post with an older friend who shook her finger at my crass language. This song, I hope, helps underscore the good reasons for bad words.

Each of the soldiers resting on that field gave it all. They didn’t give it for the republicans, the Democrats, the rich or the poor. They gave it all for each and every one of us, despite our politics, despite our religion, despite our orientation or the color of our skin. Those people fought and died for me and you, and they deserve their rest. Those soldiers ALL deserve our respect, our honor, and the VERY least we can do is to not ask them to be another pawn in another war!

Thank you.

Hugs. Randy

I Believe This Says It All

I’ve said this before, but I am more than willing to do so again: For those of you who, like me, are in the often painful position to hire and fire employees, please ask yourself this simple question: Would I hire this man to work in my business?

Let’s think on this:

He has bankrupted numerous businesses, so definitely wouldn’t have him as a C-level employee.

He has repeatedly been sued for refusal to pay for his contractors and other debts.

He has been held liable for fraud.

He has been held liable for stealing from the Children’s Cancer Charity he operated.

He has been held liable for sexually assaulting someone.

He has shown himself to be unrepentantly untruthful.

He creates division. Everywhere.

I would not hire him. Why would I want him in the highest position in the land?

Hugs;

Randy

Never Again

Politicians lie to us daily. I think it’s a requirement of the job. Hillary and Bill were famous for it, Barack admitted to lying as well. So, why do I loathe trump?

Lies have been told by us and to us since time immemorable. Some lies are those that protect the person hearing the lie; the proverbial ‘No, Honey. Those pants do not make you look fat at all.’ Some call these “white lies” or “social lies”, meant to smooth interaction with others rather than pummel someone with the blunt truth.

Then there are the lies that are self serving; the ‘no officer, I’m sure I wasn’t speeding’. These are lies that are easily seen through because we expect to be lied to in this way. We expect to have someone attempt to protect himself in the best story available. Invariably, we get that speeding ticket anyway, and we pay it because we know we were speeding.

Then there are the lies that injures others.

When trump came down that pompous escalator to announce his candidacy for president, he began his political career with lies and doubled down at every opportunity. I felt the man was completely ill prepared for the task, that he put his trust in people who were monstrously untrustworthy, and I was positive he would do a poor job. No surprise, he quickly showed himself to be pernicious, incompetent, a sociopathic narcissist, far less intelligent than he would have us believe, and he hero-worshipped dictators. As his very inadequacy found him out the powers behind the throne failed to rein him in.

Nonetheless, he was the president of the country. No matter how poorly done, he was our president, and that carried a two-way responsibility that I hated yet had little choice but to accept. As our president, he was charged with and accepted the duty to lead everyone, even me. Repeatedly he lied to me. Repeatedly he told me to trust him. And, as president, as the one who ultimately is the one in charge, I trusted the office. Then, I found that I couldn’t go to work because I didn’t have a mask; I couldn’t see my elderly family because I couldn’t risk their very life; I couldn’t see my friends because I could transmit a virus that could jeopardize their life and their loved one’s lives. A virus he told me was not an issue, would be a couple people, would go away like a fluff of cottonwood in the breeze.

In the end, it really doesn’t matter what you think about that virus, because he knew it to be deadly. He knew, and he accepted my family’s potential loss of life as a convenience. He knew and denied reality knowing it put us at risk. He lied and convinced others to lie and made the truth tellers a pariah.

We don’t have to agree in this country to find a common ground. Policy difference is a good thing. It frees the opportunity for debate and challenge, hopefully arriving at an idea that is the best it can be, able to survive challenge and investigation. But there must be a reality we can share. Never again will I allow myself to be led by someone who would see my death and the death of everyone I know as the inconsiderate cost of being thought powerful. Never Again.

Hugs. Randy

The True Risk of AI

Like many of us, I grew up with the Lost in Space Robot, Hal, and of course, the T1000.

And, as anyone who has ever seen me around a computer can tell you, I am in no danger of ever creating an AI, much less giving any fair representation of the risks that come with AI. What I can tell you is that images, chat, and other electronically produced media does share a risk that can be co-opted and influenced by our current understanding of AI. This does require us to look closely at what we see on the internet, what we believe is going on in and around our environment, and most importantly becoming a better defender of our personal borders. There is no doubt that the impersonation of human creations is going to effect our lives going forward. Further, there is no doubt that beautiful things CAN be created via AI. Not sure about this one: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/glIzD8CVwrQ

As with everything, new technology brings new fears, new opportunities, new joys, and a new way of life. In regards to the T1000, I’m really crossing my fingers on the “new way of life” part.

Hugs!

Randy

-ps: Scottie, this should teach you to not ask me to post on your blog. roflmao! Sorry, I’m easily entertained.

Do You have a Commitment to the Future of Our Country?

J.D.Vance has told me, somehow, that I don’t care about the future of this country, that I have no vested interest in the future. So, I find myself asking questions…

Do you think Climate Change is an important issue for the future of this country?

Do you think the protection of our water ways is an important issue for the future of this country?

Do you think the well rounded education of all of our children, you know – not just the wealthy ones, is an important issue for the future of this country?

Do you think that the planned family, the desired and celebrated family, is an important issue for the future of this country?

Do you think that a healthy populace given access to quality healthcare without the risk of personal bankruptcy is an important issue for the future of this country?

What does this guy think indicates a value for the continuity of our country? An uber-wealthy oligarchy? A destroyed natural resources? Dying financially ruined for need of routine health care?

For those of us who grew up on Sesame Street.

Please hit the link for a great song by one of my favorite singers… who we will soon, unfortunately lose. There is a bit of peace and a removal of all my adult worries when I hear that song, even if for just a moment.

I hit planet earth just a bit before Bert and Ernie, Big Bird and Mr. Snuffleupagus. Just. And while my street didn’t look anything like Sesame Street, I was welcome there.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=deebKNI-dTE&list=RDdeebKNI-dTE&index=2

There in the midst of the Vietnam War lived this street where good things and some scary things happened, but at the end of the hour it was all alright. There was a world where little boys and girls lived safe lives, no one got hurt, no one was afraid, and no one ever cried alone. One day I grew up and left Sesame Street, thinking I was too old, too mature. Never would I have considered just how much I miss that quiet little community just waiting for me there on Channel 11.

Thank you Jim Henson.

Hugs all. Randy

Tired

Pardon me, but I am tired. I’ve been tired for years, and this just seems to get worse and worse as time goes by, and it has made me feel truly disheartened and dispirited about posting things I think on, and frankly of even thinking.

Truthfully, it makes it difficult to speak on serious issues, difficult to think on serious things, difficult to converse with neighbors and friends and family about the hopes and hurts of our day. I don’t know how to speak on seriousness with someone who has given up on respect and seriousness. I don’t know how to speak on reality with someone who doesn’t share a common reality! For instance…

Did you know that if you believe someone has the right to be gay, to be trans even, to be genuine!, to be able to read books about others who have struggled with similar things, that you are “a pedophile and want to maim children”? That’s what we are being told.

Did you know that if you believe in constitutional rights, individual rights, health care rights, and feeding children, you “hate America“? That’s what we are being told.

Did you know that if you think Israel has gone too far and has moved past defending its citizens and interests and is moving down a road of genocide, you “hate Jewish people and are a terrorist“? That too is what we are being told.

Did you know that if you believe that regulations are needed to ensure that people are safe, that industries don’t pollute our waterways and ground, that air pollution is toxic to the continuity of humanity, that you are “a burden on future generations and that you want America to fail“? Haven’t you heard this? I am told this all the time.

Did you know that finding a direct correlation between the prevalence of guns, the romanticization of of guns, and the unwillingness to be responsible for healthy training and use of guns to the number of children and other innocent people being victimized by guns means that you “want criminals to ruin our country“? Aren’t you watching the news? This is what we are supposed to believe.

And, I’m tired. I’m tired of trying to argue against utter nonsense and innuendo masqueraded as political wit and the solution to what ails the country is slinging batshit crazy names at someone who thinks there must be a better way. Is it too much to hope that we can get a government interested in tackling the problems and opportunities we face in America, interested in debating the pro’s and con’s and finding good solutions, or must we continue to be part of this Jr. High bullshit?

Hugs. Randy

The Small Things

Last night I sat out at the front porch and had a cup of coffee after work. It’s been a while since I sat out and enjoyed the evening air, and even though it was quite muggy it was nice to contemplate my world and how fortunate I have it in life. I miss my Grace terribly. She would sit out here with me and watch the neighborhood, and I often wondered what she was thinking. She seemed so content to simply watch; to be a part of the life going on around her, the wonderful smells of summer, the sounds of the birds, the kids playing, people walking by getting their exercise. There is a peace in that simple act that I wonder how many people in this world have available to them.

What I miss the most from my walks with Grace was her fascination with things great and small. She loved to go out and see things – like this picture when we went down to a local park for some exercise. Gracie was a great believer in feeling the wind through her ears, smells were fascinating, squirrels were great fun. Sometimes, I must admit, I resented her need for exercise and new sights when I wanted to be lazy and stare at the tv. But, she was mostly patient, waiting and encouraging me to get out and smell the mailboxes.

So, today I went out and did the proverbial smelling of the roses. I got a bit of sunshine on my face. I had a full belly, there was money in my wallet, my bills are paid up, and no one was shooting at me. How many in this world can boast those simple needs in life? How many have watched their homes destroyed, their loved ones hurt. How many are crying with an empty belly? How many live in sadness and despair? How many just hope to keep living? How did I come to be born in Michigan vs. Mexico or Ukraine or some other poverty stricken and war torn area?

So to each of you I wish a bit of sunshine, birdsong, cool grass to lay in and a squirrel or two to brighten your day. Hugs. Randy

I just can’t accept ….. By Randy

“Looking Back, on the memory of, the dance we shared, ‘neath the stars above….”   One of my favorite songs.  Picture1Today I spent some time looking back and there were some tears, and there were some smiles, and there were some surprises that found me shaking my head in wonder all as I “thumbed through” a blog I wrote some ten years ago.  In truth, it comprised some of the most creative and out-reaching time of my life, as short as that duration was.  But, it also opened my heart, chipping off the armored crust that I’d built to keep me safe. 

   Today I reread a post I wrote about being invited to what should be a very nice thing:  Christmas Dinner.  I was miserable.  (https://wordsthateffect.blogspot.com/2013/12/the-lonely-walker.html)  Picture2What surprised me was that I still remember that pain.  I don’t remember specifics of the day, I remember how much it hurt to be cast away as inconvenient only to be so magnanimously called back like a dog once again let into the house.  I felt obligated to go, I felt obligated to forgive the hurt I felt, and I felt obligated to be the good guest who buries the hurt and the abandonment I felt even though I was an adult and shouldn’t be so easily hurt.  Picture3I was the bad dog, let back into the house, and quite frankly I was “just fine” outside.  Just fine, thank you very much.  …  … 

There is a song written by the group Imagine Dragons, called “Believer”.    I’ll not speak for the artist, but it always hurt, this song.  For me, it spoke about how the singer was made a believer, was made what he was told he was no matter how he fought against it.  Imagine the power we have over people that we can develop their very self image! 

 But, that song also gave me hope as I realized that if we have the power to negatively impact the very way someone sees themselves, we also have the power to positively impact their life.  We can make them a believer of something truly grand for their life.

   I left blogging because, as I mentioned, it forced me to open my heart and dang that hurt.  I had to watch the greatest ugliness to find a way to demonstrate that it was not reasonable or godly to be so hateful, and often that ugliness was voted for by people I loved.  I wrote posts about people being abused.  I wrote posts about young people listening to others demean them and those like them.  I wrote about hopes lost, lives lost, tears shed, and dark times.   It frightens me as I look over those past blogs more than a decade old that things have not seriously changed, though I do think that more people understand that we are all different, each of us unique and special and worthy of love.    As we come upon another presidential race Picture4 I hope people will consider the world they want to create, the legacy we hope to pass down to our younger generation, because that is the defining aspect of the voting process.