Technology giveth. Technology taketh away.
Our closed captioning is gone. And like my mojo, I don’t know how to get it back.
We had recent visitors, and I believe one of them switched it off. I think that’s what it was – hopefully it wasn’t spayed or neutered.
How they did it I can’t say. Or why. Maybe they were the agent of a foreign government, perhaps domestic terrorists – I know they had recently attended a school board meeting – or perhaps it was part of a desperate attempt to reach the Canadian border and escape the American version of Facebook.
But I may have been misinformed about that last thing.
Or it could have been a plot hatched by the other devices we utilize. I had sensed simmering resentment from them over my love of CC.
Was it a coincidence that Alexa notified me that we had a delivery, and under her breath said “Now find it, jackalope!”
That the voice remote only changed the channel to the 700 Club, Wilford Brimley documentaries, and the WNBA?
Or that the dishwasher melted our silverware on heat dry?
And it wasn’t just the in-house items that appeared to be rebelling: I left for the Winn-Dixie the other day, and Waze told me it knew a short cut, but I ended up in North Carolina.
The car controls were also out of whack – they assured me I had 400 miles to empty, but I then ran out of gas. Under its breath it said “Now find the gas can, jackalope!” And it’s investment advice is usually spot on, but when it told me to buy high and sell low, I knew something was terribly wrong.
And my iphone was in on it as well, making up incriminating personal information about me, and selling it along with my other personal info. On a happy note, the fake me was more interesting than the real me, so it worked out.
When I was at Target, I swear I recognized our toaster, so I fear I was being followed.
As you may have guessed, it is nearly impossible for me to reset devices once they’ve gone wrong.
The Christmas lights timer went on and off in 5 minute increments, and couldn’t be reset. But the strobe effect won us a “Best light show” award.
Somehow my iphone language was reset to Portuguese. After repeated efforts to change, it became easier to sign up for a Berlitz class. Obrigado,Apple! Finally, paella recipes make sense!
Even old school devices befuddle me. I have had a grandfather clock for years, but I now find that he is forgetting what time it is, chimes loudly and at inappropriate times, fears he is being phased out whenever I set our alarm, and won’t take questions after appearances.
So now what?
I tried to reset CC, no luck. My Captor tried – our CC is now on a low sodium diet, has cut back on his drinking, and is nicer to his brother – but still no captioning.
Television viewing has been ruined – I rarely have any idea what they’re saying, and when I can make it out it makes no sense. But I doubt that latter thing is me –it’s a sign that cocaine is back in Hollywood.
Maybe the lesson from this fiasco is that technology isn’t my friend, after all.
I am now planning to “get off the grid” and make it in this world on my own, technology be damned!
But first, I have to make sure my phone, computer, Ipod, Apple watch, flashlight, air drop printer, microwave, thermostats and Ipad are charged.
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TO ENHANCE YOUR ENJOYMENT OF THIS POST, PAIR IT WITH THE FOLLOWING SONGS:
Legit Tattoo Gun Front Bottoms
“My head has thoughts. What a ridiculous way to start.
She said, “Well, what about my chest?
Or, more specifically, my heart.”
Whenever I am alone or feeling lonely,
I pretend I can play the drums inside my head and I am good.
They love these songs, They love my songs.
And I am alone only half the time.
The other half, I am only hiding.
I’m pretty sure I’m the only guy she’s hooked up with tonight.
But probably, oh, probably not.
Who did I think I was?
Who did I think I could be?
Oh, how dare me., Oh, how dare me.
And there’s a voice in the back of my head.
In the back of my head, says:
“Let him be, just let him be happy.”
I’m gonna go crazy”.
All My Friends Danny O’ Keefe
“No matter who is dealing, It’s pretty much the same
Even when you’re losing, You’re still playing the game
And some will call your bluff, Some will call themselves friends
Some who don’t need you, Never call you again
They tell me all my friends are going to be strangers
They’ll come as they have gone
All my friends are going to be strangers
Travellin’ on, travellin’ on
And though you are a stranger
You’ll always be a friend
We’re travelers on a highway, We may never ride again
I often smile and wonder
What each of us will do
We might get rich and famous
We could end up being strangers, too”
Sorry or please Kings of Convenience
“Five weeks in a prison
I made no friends
There’s more time to be done, But I’ve got a week to spend
I didn’t pay much attention, First time around
But now you’re hard not to notice
Right here in my town
Where the stage of my old life
Meets the cast of the new
Tonight’s actors, me and you
Each day is taking us closer
While drawing the curtains to close
Through the streets, on the corners, There’s a scent in the air
I ask you out and I lead you, I know my way around here
There’s a bench I remember, And on the way there I find
That the movements you’re making,
Are mirrored in mine, And your hand is held open,
Intentionally
Or just what I want to see?
Your increasingly long embraces
Are they saying sorry or please?
I don’t know what’s happening, help me
I don’t normally beg for assistance
I rely on my own eyes to see
But right now they make no sense to me
Right now you make no sense to me”
Hitsville UK The Clash
“They cried the tears, they shed the fears
Up and down the land
They stole guitars or used guitars, So the tape would understand.
Without even, The slightest hope
Of a thousand sales
Just as if, As if there was
Hitsville in UK
I Know the boy was all alone
Till the Hitsville hit UK.
Remember
They say true talent, Will always emerge in time
When lightening hits small wonder
It’s fast rough factory trade
No expense accounts, Or lunch discounts, Or hypeing up the charts
The band went in, And knocked ’em dead
In two minutes fifty-nine
So hit it
No slimy deals, With smarmy eels
In Hitsville UK
Let’s shake and say, We’ll operate
In Hitsville UK
The mutants, creeps and muscle men
Are shaking like a leaf
It blows a hole in the radio
When it hasn’t sounded good all week
A mike ‘n’ boom, In your living room
In Hitsville UK, No consumer trials, No A.O.R.”
The Highlands Bob Dylan
(17 amazing, confounding – in a great way – minutes)
“Well my heart’s in The Highlands, gentle and fair
Honeysuckle blooming in the wildwood air
Bluebells blazing where the Aberdeen waters flow
Well my heart’s in The Highlands
I’m gonna go there when I feel good enough to go
Windows were shaking all night in my dreams
Everything was exactly the way that it seems
Woke up this mornin’ and I looked at the same old page
Same old rat race, life in the same old cage
I don’t want nothin’ from anyone, ain’t that much to take
Wouldn’t know the difference between a real blonde and a fake
Feel like a prisoner in a world of mystery
I wish someone’d come and push back the clock for me
Well my heart’s in The Highlands wherever I roam
That’s where I’ll be when I get called home
The wind it whispers to the buckeye trees of rhyme
Well, my heart’s in The Highlands
I can only get there one step at a time
I’m listening to Neil Young, I gotta turn up the sound
Someone’s always yellin’ “Turn it down”
Feel like I’m driftin’, driftin’ from scene to scene
I’m wonderin’ what in the devil could it all possibly mean
Insanity is smashin’ up against my soul
You could say I was on anything but a roll
If I had a conscience, well I just might blow my top
What would I do with it anyway, maybe take it to the pawn shop?
My heart’s in The Highlands at the break of dawn
By the beautiful lake of the Black Swan
Big white clouds like chariots that swing down low
Well my heart’s in The Highlands, only place left to go
I’m in Boston town in some restaurant
I got no idea what I want
Or maybe I do but I’m just really not sure
Waitress comes over, nobody in the place but me and her
Well it must be a holiday, there’s nobody around
She studies me closely as I sit down
She got a pretty face and long white shiny legs
I said “Tell me what I want”
She say “You probably want hard boiled eggs”
I said “That’s right, bring me some”
She says “We ain’t got any, you picked the wrong time to come”
Then she says “I know you’re an artist, draw a picture of me”
I said “I would if I could but
I don’t do sketches from memory”
Well she’s there, she says “I’m right here in front of you
Or haven’t you looked?”
I say “All right, I know but I don’t have my drawin’ book”
She gives me a napkin, she say “You can do it on that”
I say “Yes I could but I don’t know where my pencil is at”
She pulls one out from behind her ear
She says “Alright now go ahead draw me I’m stayin’ right here”
I make a few lines and I show it for her to see
Well she takes the napkin and throws it back and says
“That don’t look a thing like me”
I said “Oh kind miss, it most certainly does”
She say “You must be joking”, I said “I wish I was”
She says “You don’t read women authors do ya?”
At least that’s what I think I hear her say
Well I say “How would you know, and what would it matter anyway?”
Well she says “Ya just don’t seem like ya do”
I said “You’re way wrong”
She says “Which ones have you read then?”, I say “Read Erica Jong”
She goes away for a minute, and I slide out, out of my chair
I step outside back to the busy street, but nobody’s goin’ anywhere
Well my heart’s in The Highlands with the horses and hounds
Way up in the border country far from the towns
With the twang of the arrow and the snap of the bow
My heart’s in The Highlands, can’t see any other way to go
Every day is the same thing, out the door
Feel further away than ever before
Some things in life it just gets too late to learn
Well I’m lost somewhere, I must have made a few bad turns
I see people in the park, forgettin’ their troubles and woes
They’re drinkin’ and dancin’, wearin’ bright colored clothes
All the young men with the young women lookin’ so good
Well, I’d trade places with any of ’em, in a minute if I could
I’m crossin’ the street to get away from a mangy dog
Talkin’ to myself in a monologue
I think what I need might be a full-length leather coat
Somebody just asked me if I’m registered to vote
The sun is beginnin’ to shine on me
But it’s not like the sun that used to be
The party’s over and there’s less and less to say
I got new eyes, everything looks far away
Well my heart’s in The Highlands at the break of day
Over the hills and far away
There’s a way to get there, and I’ll figure it out somehow
Well I’m already there in my mind and that’s good enough for now”