The above Seinfeld quote cracks me up because I misinterpreted the intended meaning of “neat.” I laugh anytime I hear someone refer to a personality as, neat. The word, neato, if pronounced with the proper enthusiasm, can render me a quivering heap of giggles on the floor. There are perks to having older siblings who were teenagers in the 70’s. Flipping through photo albums showing them in their plaid bell bottoms on holidays is still a favorite. I still don’t understand what the orange, avocado, and mustard yellow everything were about, though. Did those colors look better in the 70’s? Asking for my eyes.
My eyes are glazed over from reading news articles all day. I can’t believe I have subscriptions to The New York Times, The Washington Post, and The Wall Street Journal. I’m not complaining, just marveling at how much 45 has impacted my life. I used to only read articles about artificial intelligence, computers, games, gadgets, etc. I’ve cut back on some of my interests due to the state of emergency in American government. I tend to do my best when I’m intensely focused on a small number of projects. I can juggle three at a time, but two is better. The extra one only when I’m not sleeping for a stretch, (but I suspect I waste as much time staring into space from being overtired as I gain from not sleeping, so it probably doesn’t count.)
The Resistance is my priority. My other obsessive focus is on my drums. I had to take a day off from practice to let my hands heal. I’ve been playing along with Fleetwood Mac, Rumours. It’s such a good album. I understand now why drummers move in ways I used to find awkward to watch while they play. It’s because it feels good. I do it too and laugh at myself when I realize. I used sticks dipped in rubber (on the grips) and no gloves. Mistake. I peeled a disturbing amount of skin off my hands today. Then obsessed over the new skin for a bit. I’ll be wearing gloves going forward. I wasted at least 30 minutes messing with dead skin like I had nothing better to do.
I got my laptop back yesterday. Everything looked like it should, but I still stayed up all night shortening the lifespan of my hard drive. I appreciate TSA for getting it back to me so quickly and intact. It’s clear lots of people leave stuff in security because they have an impressive Lost and Found department. The process was as easy as typing, “I left my laptop in security” in a browser. The first hit was TSA Lost and Found website with a phone number. It had automated instructions informing me to give them 24 hours, then call and see if it was turned in. I talked to them on Sunday, and my laptop was back in my hands on Monday afternoon. That’ll do.
Apple got my attention with the iMac Pro. I haven’t had an iMac since the G5. It’s been Macbook Pros and mini’s since. I’m just going to get the new 10.5″ iPad Pro with a 512 GB SSD. I have an iPad Air 2 with a 64 GB SSD. I use it mostly for making music. There are some amazing apps for IOS, many of which let you download samples and instruments. Faster and more space? Yes, please. My sister will appreciate the old one. I have a one in, one out policy now. I’ve progressed in my mission to get rid of my excess stuff. I’m not done yet, however. I need to purge my t-shirts. I have an obscene number of them, mostly from sites like TeePublic, Woot Tshirt, Teefury, and DesignByHumans.
I was going to make some quilts with them, but I’ve since changed my mind. Instead, I’m going to drive down to the state mental hospital with a box full. It’s about an hour away. It’s a surprisingly nice facility. It was built by a former governor who I believe had a spouse with mental illness. It has an Olympic size indoor pool, full-size indoor gym, music rehearsal room, and the wards are arranged around an indoor walking path that loops around. I love such thoughtful architecture. It’s one of the buildings I’m proud of in my state. When you consider our laws regarding the mentally ill in South Dakota are embarrassing at best, it’s remarkable.
Here, the police transport the mentally ill in handcuffs and leg shackles. I’m. Not. Fucking. Kidding. The last time I went down to see the building, I talked to a kid who was from Rapid City (western side of the state). He was 14, and they brought him there on a prison bus with prisoners seated adjacent to the mentally ill patients being transported to the state hospital. They had him in handcuffs and leg shackles for the entire 5-hour trip. He told me the prisoners taunted him and the other patients, calling them derogatory terms for MI. He was crying by the time he finished telling me. It really shook him up.
I’m pretty sure it would have shaken me up, too. I reported it to a local advocacy group. They told me it would be wise for people with mental illness to move east because people are more understanding there, (practically a quote.) It’s 1960 in South Dakota. I felt ashamed to be an adult that day. The building is nice, though. Sigh. I’m off to read.