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OMG PRONOUNS!

This has gotten well and truly ridiculous. I don’t care what side you come down on. It’s absolutely inane, the amount of angst and energy and dogmatism and “hurt feelings” this shit has caused and effected. (Yes, grammar nazis, that is a purposeful rule-bend.)

What am I talking about? Just skim these 4 links:

So for those of you too lazy to read, and/or who don’t understand what this online community IS, I’ll break it down for you.

StackExchange is a vast and popular Q&A site which started back in the 2000’s as a programming-help resource (coined StackOverflow). Think of it like Yahoo Answers or Quora but 100 times better (1000 times better, in relation to Yahoo), because the community actually cares about quality and takes time to curate and research and maintain the wealth of information therein.

One of the biggest and most important parts of this online community is the moderator staff — a group of volunteer users who have risen up in the ranks to have “phenomenal, cosmic powers” to be used for the good of said community. They review questions and answers, they keep other uses behaving nicely, they facilitate the ebb and flow of good quality information and contributions, and they’re generally pretty awesome guys & gals.

Oh noes! I gender-ified them! (Genderized? Engendered?) WHAT EVAR SHALL WE DO!?! Sound the alarms!!

(That’s totally not the right word, but I’m too lazy to look up what it’s supposed to be. And it’s not “gentrified”, that’s completely unrelated.)

So the drama, the uproar, the righteous indignation and press fallout, surrounds one such moderator and her discussions with the actual company staff (the corporation that owns StackExchange, i.e. the website, the software, and now apparently the content), over what was being proposed in a new/revised “Code of Conduct”.

To be clear, “Code of Conduct” is just fancy words for “expected behavior” when you’re using the site / participating in the community. The old-guard believed in the KISS principle, and basically just said “Be nice.” In other words, “don’t be a jerk.” Easy, right? However, as time went on, the size of the community (the # of users and the amount of activity) exploded, and people, being people, weren’t always “nice” to each other.

you don't say?
Shocking!

Now, the mod (short for moderator) in question was a bit concerned with the proposed CoC revision that essentially forces you to acknowledge (ok), respect (fine), and actively affirm (uhh) anybody else’s preferred gender pronoun (wat?). But it’s more nuanced than that. See, this mod, like many of us who call ourselves “writers” (loosely, of course), has developed her habits for coping with this brave-new-world where gender is no longer a binary construct (and I’m not going into that here; that’s a whole other discussion topic, dumpster-fire and flame-bait galore).

Her habits include using collective and neutral pronouns, or even avoiding them altogether with other language mechanisms; and when all else fails, disengage from the conversation with the person(s) who are having issues with it. I, for one, think this is a fantastic philosophy. It allows you to be respectful, civil, and expressive, yet does NOT force you to actively affirm and participate in a mentality or world-view that you don’t agree with. Because look, we can all be civil and respectful of each other, no matter how deeply we disagree on something, as long as you’re not forcing your viewpoint down my throat and I’m not doing the same.

But no. This perfectly reasonable work-around wasn’t good enough for the extreme liberal agenda at StackExchange. You MUST address anybody and everybody with their stated preferred pronouns, full-stop. In fact, remaining neutral, or disengaging, is now deemed hurtful and offensive. WHAT?!? Really? To quote the 2nd resignation post I linked, which I adore simply for his incredibly articulate and well-structured writing style:

The new “tolerance” is tolerant of everything except ideological disagreement. It is forced conformity.

Caleb

So. Stop the presses. Raise the pitchforks. Light the cigars. Grab the popcorn, and watch the flames. Because this is a shit-show. And it’s a sad reflection of our times.

But it’s more than that. There’s a certain elitism there, subtle, but cunning. See, it’s fairly likely that none of you, dear readers, knew about this. StackExchange was a tech-startup. Another silicon valley brainchild. And like many of its ilk, despite attempts to democratize it, the sites themselves are still relatively isolated to folks of a certain demographic — young, tech-savvy, privileged, and financially stable. So despite all of its postured attempts to say “we want to be more inclusive”, it never really succeeded to reach beyond the glass of the tech-elite walled-garden.

i'm sorry i can't hear your, your inferiority is too loud
Borrowed from this guy’s blog

Look at Twitter, for example. The weekly shenanigans of Trump and everything that happens as a result. If your only source of information about Trump was Twitter, there is absolutely no question that you’d want him impeached ASAP. If for no other reason than just being a royal douche. But you know what? Most voting Americans still don’t pay attention to Twitter. They go to work, do their jobs, come home to their families, maybe watch the news, do chores, play with the kids, get them to bed, struggle with bills, and on and on it goes. They don’t give two craps about what the idiots said online this week. As far as they’re concerned, they need more money in their bank accounts, more food on the table, less crushing debt, less smog in their sky, and more time with their kids/spouses/friends.

And that’s the same thing here. The vast majority of regular-Joe hard-working tax-paying folks couldn’t care less about what gender you think you are, much less about how that question is handled in some weird website where people ask and answer questions all day. So to even spend this much time and energy on the subject, to even have such a fallout and such vociferous outcry from all sides of the straw-man… seems downright ludicrous.

Look, I respect the original mod, Monica, for standing by her principles and expressing herself in a definitive, respectful, and humble way. I’m not saying “who cares”. I’m just saying that this is an example of the technical elite enjoying the privilege that they have to openly and freely raise these issues about which they care so deeply, in an environment that is, by comparison to the real world, SUPER soft and squishy and forgiving.

unicorn barfing a rainbow
Blech.

So here’s the point. Next time you get all bent out of shape because someone didn’t respect your fabricated right to self-identify as an androgynous unicorn, take a breath, drink a sip of your pH water, pop a Xanax, and try to put it into perspective. You are privileged. The fact that you can read this proves it. (So am I, by the way.) Channel that energy toward something good, something positive and helpful and humanitarian.

Love & light. ❤

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Disneyland is a Waste of Money

Fight me. Change my mind. Go ahead, make my day.

Listen, I get it. Your kids love all things Disney. And why wouldn’t they? Disney, as a megacorp, owns nearly every facet of modern entertainment that you can think of. All of their favorite kid shows, characters, superheroes, and toys are probably based on some form of Disney-ism.

K. loved going to Disneyland for two things: Halloween time, and Christmas time. Mostly the latter. The electric light parade was the highlight of her trip. In the late 2000’s / early 2010’s, we had our annual passes for a few years. We made good use of them. They were a couple hundred bucks back then. We had monthly payment plans and we had a handicap decal to use for parking.

disneyland haunted holiday mansion
I mean, it IS pretty neat, I’ll give you that.

She always had to have three things, and usually in this order: popcorn, a churro, and dole-whip. Sometimes a popcorn refill. These were unique to Disneyland, at the time. I mean the taste of them, not the food item itself. Lord knows they probably added some secret addictive chemicals that nobody could ever trace or prove.

Fast forward a few years to our last trip. Maybe we were growing out of it. Maybe people were getting less friendly. Maybe it was a warmer than usual day. Maybe the treats didn’t quite taste as breathtakingly delicious as we remembered. Maybe it was a combination of all those things. But as we tried to snag a bench seat for the parade — 3 hours before it starts, mind you — and we were assailed by a cranky middle aged woman who insisted that she’d reserved that bench for herself and her rabble… we just kinda looked at each other and realized: We were done.

And we never went back.

disneyland popcorn
Delicous MSG!

Now let’s look at the facts. I’ll use two resources for this break-down: TripSavvy and Costco. A one-day one-park ticket is over $150. So you say to yourself, okay, that’s not what most people are doing, right? Most people make a 2-day event out of it, at least. Fine. A 2-day park-hopper ticket is $280. Wow, not saving much are we? (Sure, you can navigate promo sales and off-days to save a few bucks, but it’s small-potatoes.)

And let’s not forget, if you don’t live locally (because let’s face it, the locals rarely go here anymore, because they realized long ago how much of a colossal rip-off it is), you’re getting a hotel. Good luck finding anything for less than $150/night close enough to make any sense. Or that doesn’t smell like cheap hookers and cheaper booze.

Oh, children are cheaper you say? Not really. For a kid — over 3, of course, because if you’re taking a baby or toddler to DLand, you’ve got bigger problems and god help you — you save maybe $6-7 on a ticket. Wow, and this is supposed to be a theme park built FOR kids and families. And they’re the ones driving the sales of all those crappy plastic souvenirs, at a 90% margin I might add, because they’re all produced by similarly aged child-slave-labor overseas.

disneyland churro
Authentically hand-rolled by Mexicans dressed uncomfortably in hot stuffy uniforms. Instead of your Mexican neighbors, who are actually really friendly and super cool, and you’d be much happier eating with them than the scum of the earth standing behind you in this line.

So let’s talk food again. If you actually plan on having a meal there, you’re already paying at least 25% above standard dining prices of comparable quality. It’s not as bad as freakin sporting events (I’m looking at you, $15 Bud Light at Dodger Stadium), but it’s not nothin. Oh, what about going outside the park to eat? Yeah no, forget about it. By the time you’ve trudged X miles back to your car, navigated the parking maze, and dealt with the always-crappy OC traffic, you’ve spent at least that much in gas and frustration. No, you’re better off just swallowing the in-park mark-up.

Alright, where does that leave us? Let’s say you’re a family of four, with two kids of appropriate age. 4 2-day hopper tickets puts you at about $1100. Hotel, $200. Food, let’s say about $20 per meal per person.. so about $350. Right, we’re up to $1650 before transportation.

Oh wait, PARKING. Duh. Oh this is rich — yet another thing that’s changed since I’ve been there. You now pay by the hour. (ish. I mean it’s a base-price and it’s limited to $65, so it’s not grotesque, but it’s still pretty horrible. You’re literally paying for the privilege of having your car close enough to the park to not die of heat exhaustion or dehydration — or criminal activity, for that matter — on your way to and from it.) So $65 for 2 days is another $130.

Let’s just round that sucker up to $1800 because we can (incidentals, snacks, whatever). Ah! Lest we forget, those crappy plastic souvenirs! How much do you love your kids? Well if you’re already doing this trip, it’s probably pretty significant. So what’s another $200 in treats and toys? Right?

For years they convinced you that this was THE ONLY PLACE IN THE WORLD you could get this crap. That and Hawaii. NOPE again!

We now have a grand total of about $2000. And that’s not including any travel from your home to the park itself! If you’re already here in SoCal, you probably make that kind of drive on a regular basis, no biggie. If you’re a tourist, flying in from somewhere.. well first off, add another hotel night or two, depending on how exhausted and degenerate you want to appear in front of your fellow passengers.. and then the airfare itself of course. So all told that could put you at $3k or more; if you’re coming in from overseas, $5k easily.

And all this for what. Really, what? What is so goddamn special about this place? You go stand in lines for hours to see people in costumes acting like these cartoon characters from a bygone era, or if you’re lucky, a semi-contemporary hero or heroine of modern lore, just so they can take a picture with your brat and send them on their way. And more lines, more hours, to ride all these beat-up broken-down rides that used to be a marvel of modern engineering.

Sure, yeah they’re building and rebuilding and opening lots of cool new attractions. Fine. They’re still nothing special. Hell, Vegas rebuilds entire casinos more often than Disney revamps a ride or pushes out a novel new attraction.

Look, I realize I’m a 35-year-old man. My opinions about these things have changed. I’m obviously no longer a kid, I no longer have that childlike wonder and fascination and excitement for these stories and characters that once defined my formative years. Not arguing that. I’m saying that your kids, the current generation, would simply be better served by something more tangible, more fascinating, and more goddamn reasonably priced.

Think about it. You’re really going to spend what amounts to most people’s monthly paycheck, on a 2 day amusement park trip? Really?!? I guaran-damn-tee you that your kids won’t appreciate it as much as you want them to. And you’ll be freakin miserable, nearly the entire time. Don’t believe me? Ask someone who’s done it. Ask someone who’s seen the dregs of humanity among those not-quite-shining-streets of colorful caricatures and playful pretend-lands. They’ll tell you the same.

sleeping toddler in a stroller at disneyland
Let’s be honest, we’d all prefer to be this guy, not the struggling parents who are running on 3 hours sleep and 3 too many cups of caffeine just to “get through this day”.

If you value your sanity, and your hard-earned money.. Take it elsewhere. Take it to the Discovery Cube in Santa Ana (or similar science museums that exist in most places), where your kids can actually LEARN stuff. Take it to the local fair, where real local people are trying to earn a little cash by selling unique, handmade jewelry or craft-wares or art. Take it and save it for college or trade-school. Take the kids camping, fishing, hiking, rafting, climbing, horseback riding, dirt-biking (when they’re old enough obviously), etc.

Yeah, all that stuff costs money too. But not nearly as much as Disneycrap. And it’ll make a helluva lot better memories.

Maybe I’m biased. Maybe I’m privileged. I mean, we went to Disneyland when I was kid, probably just once. It was probably pretty expensive, for the time. Could I tell you much about it? Nope. I have exponentially better memories from the many years we spent camping together in the woods and mountains of our great state’s national parks.

in every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks
Just Google “John Muir quotes”. ❤

Is that my point? Just get outside more? Kinda. I mean it’s certainly better for you. But no, my point is much more pragmatic than that. Economical, even.

My point is that Disney, with the billions and billions of dollars they make from all of their combined corporate conglomerations of capitalism at its worst–

(and don’t start with me on capitalism; I’m not against it fundamentally, but the abuse of it has led to some pretty epically horrific stuff in our time, but again, NOT in the scope of this post.)

–anyway, with what some people have taken to phrasing as that “they have more money than God” (hyperbole for the sake of emphasis) — Disney could literally afford to cut all those prices that we’ve talked about down by tenfold, and still not lose a cent. (Let’s face it, they could afford to make it all FREE, but that’s asking for a logistical nightmare.) Would such extreme price-cuts pose an organizational problem? Sure; obviously, the cheaper it is, the more people would line up to shove their grubby little minions in the gates. That’s perfectly solvable.

But again, why bother? I mean if people were reasonable, rational, mentally stable, level-headed, common-sensed, logically-minded, practical, pragmatic, responsible, financially intelligent, productive members of society… well good lord, we’d be living in a goddamn paradise wouldn’t we? But also, said people would take one look at the economics of a typical DLand vacation and scoff derisively, chortle and eye-roll to the Nth degree, at the sheer absurdity of it all.

Anyway. That’s all I have to say for now. Apologies this went long-winded. It just makes me angry, sometimes, how much stupidity we put up with in our society. And how much abuse of power, privilege, and money, that we just stand idly by and watch, even approve of and participate in.

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a Marvel movie to watch.

Hey, at least I didn’t pay for it. =P

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Under Fire, Once Again

Have I written on this subject yet? I feel like I have, but it may have been via Facebook or something. Apologies in advance for the language. You’re an adult, you can deal with it. =)

So here we are, in the aftermath of yet another series of deadly, tragic, terrorist shootings. Oh, they were white you say? THEY’RE TERRORISTS. Full stop.

There is no excuse, no rationalization, no equivocating. Just like the radical Islamic terrorists that suicide-bomb the gathering places of those they hate, so too did these white racist extremists assault and slaughter those who they hate, just as vehemently and just as irrationally.

Oh, the 2nd Amendment you say? Well guess what, you ignorant asshole. Assault, automatic, and semiautomatic weapons WEREN’T FREAKING INVENTED when they wrote that. So shove it up your NRA-loving ass. To be clear, I fully support your right to own a handgun and a hunting rifle, after passing a thorough background check, psych eval, and safety training. Heck, I want good people to be able to protect themselves. Concealed carry? Sure! If you’ve proven you’re mentally capable and fully invested in the greater good of society, awesome.

But you look me straight in the eye-holes and tell me that we should sell AK-47s and their ilk on the shelves of Walmart in Texas, or at Bass Pro Shops, with a straight face. Go ahead. Be sure to explain why, too; I’d love to hear it.

Oh, the shooters obtained them illegally you say? NOT THE POINT. Not even CLOSE to the point. Obviously, that whole issue is complex, and we’re not going to solve it by arguing about it on the Internet. But you know how else we won’t solve it? You know how else we’ll make literally zero, even negative, progress toward the goal of reducing this kind of violence and carnage? By doing NOTHING. Absolutely nothing. Just as we’ve continued to do for decades. Because our government is too damn lazy, and too damn full of themselves, and too deep in the pockets of super-PAC lobbyists, to be bothered to get off their old fat asses and do something real about it.

Oh, mental illness you say? Nope. Sure, you’ve gotta be pretty fucked up in the head to do this kind of thing. But there are plenty of mental patients who wouldn’t dream of it. No, this kind of behavior comes from one thing and one thing only: HATE. Pure, unadulterated, fear-based media fueled, fiery political and social rhetoric induced, intolerant, ignorant, bigoted, uneducated, unchecked and unbridled hate.

fear is the path to the dark side. fear leads to anger. anger leads to hate. hate leads to suffering.
No comment necessary.

Now I’m not a psychologist. K had that degree. I’m just a tech geek. But even I can understand that this is a complex and multi-faceted problem that requires critical thinking and hard choices. Mental illness, as a societal ill, is certainly a large problem that we need to wrap our heads around. But again, it’s not the point, and it’s not what we’re talking about right now. We’re talking about reinforced mentalities and behaviors of intolerance, bigotry, and hatred of fellow humans. And I’m too damn tired of this crap being swept under the rug as if it’s “not news” or “not something we can do anything about.”

You know what the families of these victims are really tired of? INACTION. They’re sick to death (literally) of their government representatives’ plain and simple lack of motivation to DO something about this shit. They don’t want your “thoughts and prayers”. They don’t need your tweets and your Facebook sympathies and your hashtags. They need vindication. They need to know that their loved ones’ deaths will not become yet another sad statistic in an ever-growing black stain on the American dream.

But they will. They already are. Do you know how long it takes for us as a society to “move on” from this kind of shocking tragedy? A day or two. Sometimes less. Isn’t that horrifying? We will have already forgotten about it by the time the next viral trend hits our feeds.

UPDATE: it’s already happening. Everybody’s moved on to this ridiculous “30-50 feral hogs” meme. Shameful. Disgustingly shameful.

Society is broken. Morals are broken. Justice is broken. Do we sit idly by and let it disintegrate further? Or do we stand up and cry out, “Enough!” and take action?

Write, call, and email your representatives. Tell them enough is enough. Action is the only acceptable answer.

And may the victims rest in peace. May their families and friends and loved ones find comfort in each other’s arms, and in their faith, of whatever sect or religion or creed they hold, in this time of unconscionable tragedy. And if you do know any of them personally, reach out and offer your love and support, in a concrete, compassionate, caring manner.

compassion is the wish to see others free from suffering -Dalai Lama
Foreign concept to most people, sadly. Especially politicians.
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Rant: Google Photos

I don’t mean to go on a rant here.. Oh wait, yes I do.

But first, context!

Some of what I’ve been doing for the past several months is taking inventory and selling the somewhat sizable collections of collectible items that K had amassed over the past several years. I call it “spreading her sparkle out into the world.” To be clear, I don’t sell them because I feel the need to, nor because I don’t want things around that are hers / remind me of her. On the contrary, I LOVE being surrounded by her favorite things and the things that brought her joy and happiness. And we, as her family, always keep the treasures that we want the most, the things that speak to our souls and warm our hearts. But in some instances K had indeed went just a tad bit overboard with the collecting. To be sure, she did plan on re-selling most of them eventually, so it’s well within her expectations that I’d be doing the same, as long as I (and we) keep the most meaningful pieces at ‘home’.

Anyway, the point of all that was just to give you the background on why I’m about to moan & groan, whine & complain, and raise my angry fist and pitchfork at Google for their horrendously bad implementation of what should be — and IS, in another (or more unified) tech-ecosystem — a simple workflow (ordered set of related tasks).

The Workflow

Here’s what I want to do.

  1. Take pictures with my iPhone.
  2. Upload/copy them into {cloud account of choice}.
  3. Create a new {cloud account} photo album from my recently uploaded photos.
  4. Share that {cloud} photo album with family/friends/etc.

Sounds stupidly simple, no? WELL! This is a story all about how my life got flip-turned upside-down Google screwed this up, and how Microsoft actually did it much better.

Well OF COURSE you had trouble, you luddite! Everyone knows that you just need to stay within the Apple ecosystem and everything will be happiness sunshine kittens and rainbows!

Sheeple

Yeah.. no. That’s not the point. Apple exposes the same APIs to both of these other vendors, and as limited as they may be, Microsoft still did better in its cross-platform-usability-ness. Plus, this is 2019. No single vendor gets to mandate that tired old ‘walled garden’ approach anymore and hope to survive. So don’t gimme that nonsense.

First, the “good” implementation.

Now, when I go into the iOS Photos app, I can select many photos at once and hit a ‘Share’ button at the bottom-left of the screen. The list of apps to ‘Share’ with, or more accurately through, is dynamic based on how many photos you’ve selected. Microsoft OneDrive’s limit is 30. Wow, that’s cool! Some apps, like Mail and Notes, seem to have no limit (or at least a very high one). Sadly, Google Drive’s limit is 10.

But this is where I’d normally start Task 2. In iOS Photos, select pics, hit ‘Share’, and upload to {cloud service of your choice}. So as I said, with OneDrive, I pick 30 at a time and upload away. Great! And they get there FAST, too.

Now I go open up the OneDrive app. My photos are present, exactly where I put them. At the bottom right of the app, there’s the ‘Photos’ section (tab, screen, whatever you wanna call it). I go there, I select the photos, I hit the three-vertical-dots (‘Options’ is probably what they’d call it) at the top-right, I say “Create Photo Album” and give it a name. BOOM! I hit the Albums button, I select my new album, & I hit the ‘Share’ button (top-right again, just not quite as far to the right as the 3-dots). BAM! I can send it via text message, email, share it to Facebook, whatever. Life is good!

Now the terrible one.

Right, so as I said, the limit on how may pics from iOS Photos can be Shared to Google Drive is 10. Oh and guess what else? Google Photos isn’t even an option here. They literally didn’t integrate it. LAME.

But fine, I can do 10 at a time; I only have about 40 for the current project. So I select, hit Share, hit Google Drive, pick my folder to deposit them in, and go. And… sad trombone. Some of them failed! “Please try again.”

Not trusting that uploading the same pics again won’t result in duplicates, I pull out the trusty laptop, fire up the web browser, and head to Google Drive to check what succeeded and what didn’t. And I re-do just the ones that were missed. And then I wait. Because for whatever unholy reason, Google’s tubes are slower than Microsoft’s; the OneDrive wait was about 2 seconds; the Google wait is about 10, for all of the pics to show up online.

Cool, now for the album. So I have a folder in Drive with all these pics that I want to put into an album, but, uh… where’s the option to do that? Yeah, IT’S NOT THERE. Sad trombone #2. Oh go ahead, you can try to find it yourself. I’ll wait. While you’re there, check out this absolute garbage help-article that includes a pointer to the now-obsolete option that this article tells us is going away.

(Said pointer being, from drive.google.com, go to the gear (upper right), hit Settings, and enable “Create a Google Photos folder”. Don’t do it now; it’s obsolete, like I said!)

Confused yet? Great, we’re on the same page! To the Interwebs for answers! Oh god. OH GOD. They’re even more confused than we are! Somebody call Google. Wait… you can’t. You literally can’t.

Let’s back up and take a deep breath. There’s gotta be a better way, right? So instead, I go now to photos.google.com, hit the ‘hamburger menu’ (top left; yep, gotta love that lack of consistency!), hit Settings (the gear). AHA! There it is, the option to “Sync photos & videos from Google Drive”. Do we have liftoff? Eehh…

Okay yes, the photos are starting to show up at the top of my main screen (photos.google.com) — again, now I’m in laptop-land, not fiddling with the phone at this point. So I select the pics, starting with the little semi-transparent checkbox in the upper left of the first photo — then and ONLY THEN am I allowed to use my Shift key to select many at once. Then I hit the ‘Plus’ button in the upper right and say “Add to Album”. Give it a name, presto.

Ooh, I can actually “Add to new Shared Album” and immediately be prompted for who to share it with… but OH WAIT, this is on the laptop, I can’t send it in a text message. (At least, not without getting the link first and then somehow sending it to my phone, which is another process that’s way more complicated than it should be at this point in our tech revolution, but I digress.)

Let’s check things out from the iPhone again. So I open up the Google Photos app, and… WTF? Why do I see duplicates? Aaaahh.. Some have the ‘crossed-out cloud’ symbol, aka the ‘not in cloud’ or ‘offline’ symbol. Those are the ones on my device (my iPhone) ONLY, whereas the others (with no symbol on them) are in Google Photos cloud already.

Riiiiight.. cuz THAT’S not confusing for someone who wouldn’t know any better. So now if I wanted to create my new album to share, straight from here (the app), I’d have to be very careful about selecting the correct pics — the ones without the ‘offline’ symbol.

Fortunately, I’d already created the album using my web-browser on the laptop, so all I had to do was go to Albums, select it, hit the 3-dots menu in the upper right (horizontal, not vertical like Microsoft.. surprise!), hit Share, and do the usual (text message, email, Facebook, copy link, etc).

Don’t be confused by the list of Contacts that show up here either — those are your Google account contacts, not your phone’s. (Well, at least, not your iPhone’s, aka your iCloud contacts — people with real phone numbers that you can text. Your Google contacts are, most likely, just emails, unless you’re a super-nerd and keep everything in-sync between the two, which is just plain bananas!) (Apologies for the ear-worm.)

Hmm, now wait a minute, I have these photos both in Google Drive and in Google Photos. I’m pretty sure, if I read the help articles right (which is a big ‘IF’ because they’re, again, surprisingly baffling), they ALL (both) count against my storage quota. (Well, if I don’t go off and enable the ‘high quality’ storage option where Google claims to offer free unlimited photo storage if you let their robots compress your pics a little bit.) But anyway, storage. O noes! I better go to delete them from Drive. So I do that, just before half-heartedly checking Google Photos again to make sure they didn’t disappear as a result. Thankfully they did not. Phew.

Wow, is it beer time yet?

Seriously, does it need to be this complicated? Google, you got some smart-ass people working for you. I mean, some of the best and brightest. Can you maybe make some of this experience less terrible? Plz? K thx.

Haters Gonna Hate

Because I couldn’t resist just one more ear-worm. And because someone will inevitably say “Well you know Nate, you could have just done it all with iOS Photos and iCloud Photo Sharing and iCloud Shared Albums” and lah-tee-dah and tea & crumpets and matching space-grey turtlenecks and BLECCHHH. Not the point. Also, wake me up when Apple starts offering more than 5GB of cloud storage for free like EVERYBODY ELSE IN THE ENTIRE FREAKING INDUSTRY.

OK I’m done. Have a pleasant week everyone! ❤

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Movie Monday: The Hustle

Hey kids, it’s that time again!

What time is it?

Time for a movie review! Try to contain your excitement.

the hustle movie poster
Promises, promises…

High Expectations

Both of these actresses are fabulous. I mean, neither one is everybody’s cup o’ tea, but they have terrific screen presence and charisma. Just look at Ocean’s 8 or Pitch Perfect. There’s a lot of potential here, given the vast difference in their appearance and demeanor (as characters, specifically, but also in general). Although, let’s face it, Wilson is very much a character-actor and doesn’t have nearly the range that Hathaway does.

The trailers gave us some really good lines about women being underestimated and using that to their advantage, with some hilarious “Rebel blunders” to guffaw at. And while the premise of the master grifter teaching the amateur the art of the con is not new, it does generally make for compelling cinema, when done right. However, when you take that formula too far off the rails, you can end up in cheese-land.

Sub-par Results

The problem here is that we get too deep too fast.

That’s what SHE said!

Right, anyway. What I mean is, there doesn’t seem to be a truly compelling reason for Jo (Hathaway) to take Penny (Wilson) under her wing. We’re just kind of shoehorned into it, like “Yep, that’s the way it is now, keep that train a’rollin’!”. Similarly, the main motivator (turf war, really?) for their ultimate “gentleman’s wager” really doesn’t seem that crucial to the story. Nor does the target, the silicon valley whiz-kid. Again, taking a page from the Ocean’s trilogy, why not just compete for the sake of competition?

And then there’s the whole she-Gollum shtick, which just didn’t work for me. It’s nothing against the actors or the writing… They’re leaning too far into the whole “Rebel Wilson isn’t really attractive” angle. Right? But I get it, that’s the characterization — Jo is sophisticated high-class elegance and Penny is the opposite. I’m completely on-board with that; I merely wanted to see more variety in the cons, not the same few tropes replayed.

Happy Endings

Spoiler alert! No, just kidding. I won’t actually tell you what happened. I will say that it wasn’t that bad. It was a little unnecessary, a little forced, sure. But overall, fairly satisfactory.

The Verdict

Meh. The ~48% audience-score on Rotten Tomatoes feels about right. It’s not a terrible movie! It’s just not that fantastic either. Worth a theater visit or a $4.99 rental? No, definitely not. Worth a spot on your watch-list when it comes to streaming-ville? Sure.

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Just a Quick Note

Hi all, hope you enjoyed the guest post last week. I just returned from a week’s vacation, so at the moment I have no new posts to push out. I hope to resume my normal schedule by Friday. Twice per week is actually quite a difficult pace to maintain, so I think I’ll drop to just weekly, either Mondays or Fridays depending… (on what, no clue!)

Thanks again for hangin in there with me and for reading. It means a lot. Leave a comment if you have any ideas on what I should write about, or any questions or rants you’d like me to read. Love & light ❤

if my husky doesn't like you, i probably won't either
Someone should buy me this shirt.
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Layers, Masks, and Shades

Nope, this isn’t a Photoshop / photo-editing post. Catchy title though, right? No, it’s about what we all do in our online social profiles and presence and content. Including me. Yes, dear reader, even this is but one of many layers; a mask, perhaps at times; a shade of one of many colors that comprise the entirety of this person that is me.

Layers

You all know the quote from the original Shrek. He’s got layers, like an onion. Not like a parfait. Or a cake. An onion. Because he’s smelly and slightly bitter. Turns out, this analogy works quite well for a human, too. I mean sure, some of us are less bitter than others — you’ve got your sweet Vidalia onions too. But the point is that you don’t get to see the inner layers until you’ve peeled away or broken through the other layers.

onions have layers, ogres have layers.
And you can tell your parfait to kiss my big green arse!
(Pretty sure Shrek never said that, but I’d like to think he thought it, at least.)

Trauma, such as the loss of a loved one, cuts us deep, often piercing right through nearly all of those layers at once. Which is why it brings out the worst and the best in people, sometimes even both simultaneously. Yet, as any living organism will do, we try to heal ourselves as rapidly as possible. Often that means masking some of the more ugly scars or unsightly layers with something that’s not quite pure, not quite “genuine grade-A self”. Over time, eventually, hopefully, those impostor layers get replaced by what truly belongs there, within and about us as a person, and we, in colloquial terms, “become whole”.

Of course, the analogy doesn’t hold up completely at that point. When you lose a spouse, a child, or someone who meant the world to you in some similar way, you’re never really “whole” again, because that person had become a part of you. Their layers had intermingled with yours; you had become this sort of freakish hybrid double-onion that doesn’t really exist in nature. (Or maybe it does; I’m not National Geographic.) So it’s not a perfect metaphor, but it’s alright.

Masks

All the world’s indeed a stage
And we are merely players
Performers and portrayers
Each another’s audience
Outside the gilded cage

Rush, Limelight

We all put on a mask sometimes, intentionally or otherwise. To get us through the day, the week; to hide the fact that we can’t stand one more tantrum or meltdown from a cranky 2 year old; to pretend that we’re “doing fine” when our heart wants to scream out in pain. This is especially true in grief, where the world’s expectation is that you “must live on” and “honor the memory” of your lost loved one.

But what if the mask’s purpose were reversed? What if the mask was a facade of grief, and the face behind it was secretly, surprisingly, despite the odds and expectations, actually thriving? No, surely this does not happen. Does it?

all of wear masks, full quote by Sarah Connor
From the show “The Sarah Connor Chronicles”, according to Reddit.

Shades

As a literary device, a ‘shade’ is often a ghost or spectre. It represents a lost remnant of a person, a soul that has not found rest, or that has been called back from the grave against its will. Apt, I should say, for a griever to consider. We often try to “bring back” our loved one in some form, be it a memorial service, a shrine, a re-living of their favorite activity or adventure. But these are not “the real” him/her, not even close.

Luminous beings are we! Not this.. crude matter.

Yoda, Empire Strikes Back

We are, indeed, an amalgamation of so many colors and hues, of light and dark. You see the bright spots, most often, on social media; the “highlight reel”, the colors that we want others to see the most. Not the darker, more mysterious, less appealing colors of our personal rainbow. Those, we hold close to the vest, only willing to let them show under the utmost trust and confidence.

Occasionally, they slip out, unintentionally. They fly off with a spark and we’re left to contrive some socially acceptable explanation, some attempt to quell the tide of contempt that it brought upon us, as if everyone else has never had those same dark inscrutable colors escape from their own personal paint palette. Oh trust me, they have.

What’s your point?

Touché. I suppose I needed to fill some space, and had thoughts swirling around my head. Nobody’s perfect. We all make mistakes and we try to do better. Often we fail. But sometimes — oh rare but glorious sometimes — we succeed. ❤

it's okay to not be okay sometimes
TinyBuddha is kinda neat for this sort of thing. 🙂

Monday Movie Madness!

Because alliteration, why not.

As I’ve been doing occasionally, I went to the cheapo 2nd-run theater by myself tonight. I saw Shazam!. (Do you put punctuation after it, even though it already has one in the title? I’m confused.)

Oh trust me, the confusion doesn’t stop there.

But rather than bore you, dear reader, with one mere movie review, I thought to myself: “Self, let’s kick it up a notch!” Then I realized I wasn’t Emeril. But I digress.

You don’t say?

So without further ado… I give you, the first of many maybe some definitely more than zero… Monday Movie Madness! In which I review several movies at once, lightning-round style, because ANGTFTD.

Shazam!

shazam dancing
I feel pretty, oh so pretty…

“Say my name, b*tch!”

Wait what? Grab the guy’s staff and do what now? Do these people even realize the amount of double-entendre they’re pushing on our young audiences! Won’t somebody think of the children!?!? Well yeah, turns out they did. Most of this movie was in fact squarely aimed at the tween-teen crowd. Not that it sucked entirely.

OMG another! Enough with your filthy language mister!

It was, surprisingly, not as bad as I thought. Not as cheesy as the previews made it look. Oh don’t get me wrong, it was cheesy. But there was plenty of SRS BZNS about inner demons and self-doubt and family and pride and all that good stuff.. and.. things..

ZOMG what is JERRY doing here!!?!? JERRY!!! MA DUDE! Holy crap are you still doing that zombie show? Christ, what is that like 9, 10 seasons? Jesus! No not that one; he’s cool too, but it’s a figure of speech. A figure.. never mind. Go swing your axe at shit. Love ya buddy.

Now where was I?

OSHIT, it’s freakin Lionel Luther! He’s like, playing the same character here as he did in Smallville! That’s pretty awesome, I’ll give you that. Well played, casting directors, well played.

Also, is it just me or does the oldest foster daughter look like a younger hotter Charisma Carpenter? No? Whatever. It’s an okay movie, just don’t have high hopes or lofty expectations.

Dude, do you not remember Bats vs Supes Dawn of Plot Holes? 40 Thousand Justice Leagues Under the Sea? Hah, I amuse myself. Oh, look, a segue…

Justice League

So we’re going in backwards order? Cool, cool cool cool, cool cool.

Well no, I’m skipping Aquaman, because that shit is actually worth seeing & having its own review. And don’t yell at me about Wonder Woman either — chronologically she’s WAY before all this crap, and she also made a helluva solo movie. So just pipe down.

Justice League was kinda a hot mess. The kind where you see her get up in the morning, her bra is way over there, she’s got one sock on, half her hair is covering her face, and her left arm is cramped, but you’re still like… Yeah, why the hell not, round 2. (Or 3, if the metaphor needs to match.) You know? It’s kinda fun, it’s a little dirty, and there’s probably some Steppenwolf playing in the background.

Yes, that was the actual name of the villain. I KNOW, RIGHT? As Deadpool might say, “lazy writing.”

Also, you’re totally being sexist right now.

Yeah, but I’m doing it for the sake of analogy.

Batman vs Superman

Speaking of dead things… Ohhh crap, spoiler alert! Sorry, sorry, my bad. Nope, nobody dies here, all is happy kittens and rainbows and sunshine. No? Oh right, that’s the Marvel Universe.. pre 2018 anyway. This is DC. Shit gets dark. Sometimes. Until 2019, because apparently we have to play “keeping up with Disney” now, even though they have more money than God and own nearly every other franchise-able comic-based multiverse there is.

Which is why we have multiple dead Avengers (again, spoiler alert!) but no notable casualties in Shazam at all.

It’s just… Okay, I get that Batman and Superman had beef. Affleck is obviously jealous of Cavill’s good looks, and Cavill’s obviously jealous of Affleck’s Oscar(s? I don’t even know..). But really, it’s not even the center of the plot. When you give something a title like that, you expect to see some mano-a-mano, no? Oh sure they spar a little, they grimace & growl at each other for a bit, but by whose hands does the Man of Steel actually die? Ah that’s right, the actual villain.

Really? That’s your major gripe with this movie? Surely you must have more! The overacting, the over-production, the under..wear. Underacting? Underwriting?

The lazy writing, yep. Well, lazy film-making in general. The actors were actually quite impressive. I even bought into Ben’s Batman for a minute, which I swore I’d never do after The Dark Knight trilogy. (Don’t get me started on the Joker, though. Gawd.) Speaking off…

Suicide Squad

Now THIS. This was a frickin’ MOVIE. Margot Robbie’s Harley Quinn? Spectacular. Will Smith. Ike Barinholtz. Viola FREAKIN Davis. Holy mother.

So.. we’re just kinda pretending Jared Leto didn’t exist?

Yeah, pretty much. Because honestly if you take him out of the movie.. well okay, not literally. I mean, if you take out his ridiculosity and his lack of depth, and just kinda avoid leaning into his character or his backstory for anything of substance, then it totally works.

Just watch it. You won’t be disappointed. Except with the Joker. But it’s OK, you can cleanse your palette afterwards with Heath Ledger. Promise. ❤

Other Superman, Other Batman

Oh wait, Affleck’s Batman hasn’t had his own movie yet, has he? Oooohh… ouch. Sorry bud. Hopefully next year? Eeehhh, right, you’re being replaced by a sparkly-ass vampire. Damn. Tough brakes man. But hey, at least you won’t completely bastardize the franchise single-handedly, like some people. I mean, we all know Christopher Reeve is still rolling over in his grave. Mentally, at least.

Wow, that was cold. Have you no soul?

I don’t know, maybe I’m just jaded and tired of re-made superhero properties. I mean really, after the 41 Flavors of Spidermen, can you really blame me?

No, but I can tell you to quit yappin’ and finish while you’re ahead!

Yeesh. The voice in my head is not happy with me tonight. He probably needs some Christopher Nolan goodness. I can’t disagree with him there.

Adios, my friends, and enjoy that popcorn. ❤

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A Letter to an Absentee Father

Let me be perfectly clear. This is NOT about my own father nor about my immediate family. Anybody who knows me knows that I damn-near idolize my father (most of the time, heh!). This is a collection of observations and thoughts regarding a general problem that I’ve been in close proximity to with some notable frequency and duration.

This shouldn’t be all depressing, though. June is, after all, the month of Father’s Day. So if you’re reading this and you think, “Hmm, I haven’t talked to my Dad in a while. Maybe I should try to talk it out, try to forgive him a little, and see if we can still make things work.” — DO IT. Life’s too short.

Or, if you’re like me and you love your dad, TELL HIM. Tell him why; why you admire him and respect him, why you wanted to be like him when you grew up. He loves to hear that sort of thing; it makes his heart swell with pride and joy.

Love and peace, friends.

N.

I can’t do this anymore. I can’t continue to be the peace-maker, the bridge-repairer, the message-passer. You need to make an effort. A true, unabashed effort. Make it personal. You say you’ve called? Call more. You say you’ve left messages? Leave more. Leave them until their voice-mail is full. And then text. EVERY. SINGLE. WEEK. Hell, maybe more. Don’t just say “Hey it’s Dad, call me.” You’re gonna need to apologize. You’re gonna need to grovel, even. You’re not going to like it. It’s going to be hard work, difficult and painful. And I can’t say the words for you. But try starting with something like this.

“I love you, son/daughter. I’m so sorry for everything. I want to try to be a part of your life again. And your kids’ lives — my grandkids. It hurts me to know that they’re growing up without knowing who I am. I know that I messed up. I know that you don’t want to give me another chance. I know that it’s not my right to ask you to. But I’m begging you. Please let me try to repair things. Let us try. Please.”

Do you understand why it’s come to this? Do you really get it? You weren’t there. You ignored them in their times of greatest need, and would not celebrate with them in their achievements. You abandoned your family because you could not work out your relationship with your wife. You refused to believe that she had their best interests at heart, or that you still could try, despite your newfound contempt for their mother. Which, by the way, was largely baseless. Sure, nobody’s perfect, but you made no effort to be the bigger person, to apologize with grace and to carry on with dignity. To remain the best father you could be to your kids, even when you were no longer a husband.

And now you want to make amends. NOW you want to set things right. Most of them have written you off. Most of them call you a lost cause. I’ve seen both sides. I’ve heard your hurt, and I’ve seen their struggles. But I’m not them. I’m merely an outside observer, a desperately-attempting-to-be-neutral party. I’m not the one who needs to hear your side. THEY are. HE is. SHE is.

That’s why this is going to be so difficult. That’s why this is going to be so painful. They’re not going to build you half a bridge as you build yours. You need to build THE ENTIRE THING. The whole bridge, down to the very last stone if you must. Maybe you’ll get lucky. Maybe once they see how far you’re willing to go, how much toil and sweat and tears you’re willing to expend, they’ll be ready to lay down a few bricks too. MAYBE.

But if they don’t? You better keep going. You better not give up. You better wipe that sweat off your crackled brow, dry those tears from your tired eyes, hoist that depressingly heavy hammer, and keep on layin’ that brick. Because if they see you give up now, they truly WILL be done with you. You WILL be that lost cause. And you won’t see those grandkids. And you won’t have anywhere to go, or anyone to come and see you, when you’re old and gray, and needing that little sparkle of joy once in a while just to keep you from collapsing in your retirement-home rocking chair and never getting up again.

And I’m sorry it’s come to this. I really am. I wish that I could help you more. I wish that I could build that bridge for you, even just a little. I wish that I could be that peace-maker, that man who stands in the middle of the great divide and says “Come, let us sit and take fellowship together, and let our past transgressions be forgiven, as difficult as that may be. Let us break bread and drink, and become family once more as we were, while we — while you, specifically — have what little time may yet be given us.”

But I can’t. I’m not. And I won’t. This is on you. As awful and terrifying and cosmic as that may sound. It’s ALL on you.

The choice is yours. Make it right.

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To The Mom Who Didn’t Have to Wait

Another piece from K. This is a letter to all her fellow women, but specifically to those who are either ignorant or insensitive to the issue of infertility. It’s often not purposeful, but it still hurts, and this is one voice willing to stand up and make known something that is difficult to talk about and difficult to hear.

N.

I don’t understand what it’s like. I never will. It’s a foreign concept to me. I don’t understand having a conversation with your husband or significant other regarding the timeline of when you want to have kids, and having it actually go according to plan. I once thought that is how my story would be, but nearly 5 years later and I can tell you, it’s not that way for everyone. 

5 years. Can you imagine waiting that long? The truth is, I don’t want you to imagine. It’s painful and it’s hard. I’m writing because I want you to know how many women all over the world would do anything to be in your shoes, including me. Anything? Yes, anything. Spend tens of thousands of dollars. Inject medications in their bodies daily. Fly across country to see a better doctor. It’s not uncommon for their marriage to be on the line because of the turmoil that infertility brings. 

Or maybe they are like me, and are trying to follow God’s direction, to be still and trust Him for a miracle. Yet it’s been almost 60 months and there is still no miracle. Finances, dreams, hopes and desires are surrendered. And after all that? Still waiting. So many women are still waiting. The reality is that 1 in 8 experience infertility. And even after enduring the emotional, physical, spiritual and mental pain, many women still don’t see that positive test; or if they do, they miscarry, which leads to more pain, and more waiting. 

We are heartbroken. We are crushed. Our bodies are tired. Our minds are tired. Tired of it all. 

To have this dream, that you’ve had since childhood, take so long to fulfill, as you wonder if it ever will be, is really very hard. Especially knowing that same dream comes so easy to so many. Add not being able to leave the house without seeing that one thing desired, dreamed of, and hoped for — seemingly everywhere — that is even harder. 

I am writing you to remind you to consider it a gift and a blessing that your story is not like mine. I am writing you to remind you that, even on the hard days, there are millions of women who would trade places with you in a second. I am writing you to remind you to please be thoughtful of your words. And maybe, instead of complaining that it took you 3 months to conceive, consider it a blessing. Or instead of grumbling that you have 3 children of the same gender, consider it a joy. 

Maybe, instead of complaining of how sick/nauseous/big/uncomfortable/miserable you are, think of those women, myself included, who would gladly feel all that and more, if it meant that, at the end of the journey, we could hold our precious child in our arms.  

Just like I will never understand what it’s like to get pregnant when I want, much less “on accident”, you will never understand what it’s like to wait, painfully and longingly. Our stories are very different, and I find peace in that. But whatever stage of motherhood you are in, please remember the ones who are waiting — the moms in-the-making. 

There are women are all over the world who, month after month, even year after year, are told “not yet”. And just like every month before, we have to pick up the pieces, and hope that next month will be different. Hope against hope, for a month that will end with joy, instead of heartache. A month that will end with celebration, instead of tears. A month that will end with a positive pregnancy test, instead of another period. 

Finally, please remember, this is not directed ‘at‘ anybody, so don’t take it that way. This subject is supremely hard to talk about. It’s not that I want to talk about it; it’s a very private matter, for the most part. I don’t ask for your sympathy or condolences or anything like that. I merely ask that you take a moment, before you post yet again, to consider those women, like me, who silently hurt, as they read and hear the constant pregnancy/baby-centric buzz around them, from their friends and loved ones. And who cry out against the unyielding night, “Why, God? Why not me?”

infertility awareness stock photo
Frustration often leads to depression and resentment.