Seems like every time someone sticks their head up in Albany the press and public takes a shot at them. Now it’s Cuomo. Who’s next? It would really be funny if it weren’t for the fact that with all this stuff going on not a damn thing is being done in the state legislature.
Archive for March, 2010
New York State Government aka Whack a Mole
Monday, March 8th, 2010Why I Type Funny
Sunday, March 7th, 2010I want you to understand, the mistakes I make on my posts are not due to lack of spelling or typing skills. I learned both fairly well plus having spell-check helps. The reason for most of these errors can be seen below.
It’s called Dupuytren’s contracture whereby the tenons in my hands become tight which has caused, in the last 10 – 15 years, my pinkie and ring fingers to slowly curl up into my palms. In the pictures I have my fingers extended as far as they can go. This means when I type I will inadvertently hit the wrong keys and, unless I proof carefully some words get misspelled. While most of the time the spell-check catches it, it will not when I hit an “i” for and “o” or “r” for “t” and end up with “our” for “out” or “hot” for “hit”. Often I just miss making these kinds of corrections.
There are several interesting things about this “contracture”. For one, it is inherited. Often called Scottish or Norwegian fisherman’s disease, it is found in populations that have Scandinavian ancestry. In fact, it is used to track the movement of the Vikings in their European conquests since it will appear only in those populations where they left genetic material. Second, it is fairly much incurable. While it can be repaired surgically the cure will only be temporary–one of the reasons I haven’t sought to have it done. Fortunately it does not prevent me from grasping a golf club so I can still pursue that form of torture. Aside from not being able to straighten out my hands, there is no other side effect unless I grab something that I cannot release–then it hurts like hell. I can no longer set a volleyball, BTW. Interestingly too, I seem to be the only member of my extended family that is so inflicted.
If any one else out there has this, I’d be interested in know how you are coping.
The Junk Drawer
Wednesday, March 3rd, 2010My dear wife decided to clean out the junk drawer in the kitchen yesterday. Now this is the drawer everyone has, usually in the kitchen, where you toss little pieces of stuff that you may need at some point but never do. In our case, once she removed the assort tools, appliance instruction booklets, phone book and upper layer of things we knew were there, she unearthed a lot of interesting stuff most of which neither she nor I had an idea of what it was for.
To wit:
A black rubber thing that looks like a spacer between to wires but then could be a bumper for something in either the current refrigerator or refrigerator, dishwasher or microwave we long ago discarded.
A two-piece, inch and a half sliver tube with holes in one end and along one side—one piece slides inside the other. Looks like a whistle but isn’t—I almost herniated myself trying that.
A Kodak AA battery that is no longer has a charged.
A long light bulb that may fit in either our refrigerator or refrigerator freezer—the last time one burned out I bought an extra. Chances are if the current bulb burnt out I’d forgot I had it and go buy another.
A halogen light bulb that might go to the yard light over the garage door—or not.
A small battery and an empty package for a SR41W battery—they maybe go together but the numbers on the bottom of the battery are so small, we can’t read it and even if they do, we have no idea what they are for.
Half a dozen flashlight bulbs that may be good but we don’t have a flashlight that they work in.
Two small light bulbs that may be for the lights that used to be along the sidewalk between the house and garage that we tore out when we remodeled 12 years ago.
Six keys for luggage or brief cases—no idea which or whether we still have them—can’t lock luggage any more anyway.
A bunch of keys for locks or doors or whatever—since none are labeled I will have to try every lock on the place to see if we have someplace they work. Chances are pretty go that, once I toss them, I find one I missed.
A florescent light starter.
Sockets and extensions for a ratchet screwdriver handle that, since the ratchet no longer worked, I think I threw away—maybe.
Several rolls of tape that no longer could be unrolled since it had hardened.
Two tubes of glue that has hardened.
Eight circular key rings—no keys on any of them.
4 fancy key chains—one labeled “to house”—none with keys attached.
A bunch of chain type key chains, all unhooked.
Three ballpoint pen refills that may or may not work that were taken from discarded pens just in case we got another pen that uses the same innards.
A small tack hammer whose head it so loose that it can no longer be used—unless someone fixes it which wasn’t to happen since “someone” didn’t remember it was there.
Two small springs.
Assorted screws, nuts, bolts and small nails—nuts did not necessarily fit bolts.
Two note pads each with a couple of sheets of paper.
Two bicycle pants clips—not something you see every day.
A package of assorted O-rings.
A pad lock with, miracle of miracle, the key attached.
A kitchen cabinet hinge.
A black plastic, T-shaped thing that looks like it belongs on the end of something like a faucet.
With exception of the glue and tape, and because “Hey, you never know.” all of the above were returned to the drawer. I figure in the next millenium some archaeologist is going to be really confused.