“That was familiar frustration, which is only slightly better than the unfamiliar kind. What happened to evenings sitting on the porch singing folk songs?” (Song Video)
I ask myself why I sit in front of these televised Congressional hearings as intently as I do. Afraid I’ll miss something, I guess, plus just bored with what I could (should) be doing. I don’t like the news snippets afterwards. Those don’t capture the spirit of a moment and depending on which station you watch, oh my gosh, their editing amounts to a ‘spoiler alert’ you hear in regret, because you’re never going to see the real thing again.
I could do without all of today’s “protesting” hoopla, for sure. What a poor example of our society. In retrospect, I know that’s exactly what my grandparents’ generation said of us … and theirs, before them. I reassure myself it’s getting very close to coming full circle when manners are back in vogue. Well, that’s what I keep telling myself.
I whiled-away time this evening trying to figure out how to print WP posts for a three-ring binder. After exhausting every trick-in-the-book, I was surprised to realize, apparently, WP doesn’t let you print your own work in a decent format unless you pay/upgrade with their print plug-in. In fact, they make it down right hard. Hmph. That’s shoddy. Now they tell me? I’m doing good to function with the free version, can’t imagine what I’d be forced to learn with an upgrade. At my age you don’t force yourself to learn anything that’s not critical to living.
The last thing my life needs is more frustration, so I spent a few hours hopping from desk to printer and back again several times per post so I could print one, two-sided. That says nothing of all the angst I put myself through when first determined I could find a better way. It’s laughable when I think about it … giving up on that only to count odd versus even pages then misprint and start over a few times, as if that wasn’t “frustrating.” At least that was familiar frustration, which is only slightly better than the unfamiliar kind.
I should probably be on Twitter right now instead of here, where I could vent in 240-characters or less and be done with it. But the last time I tried that one of my best tweet replies disintegrated into the Conservative censorship pit, wherever that is, never to be seen hide nor hair of again. That was disappointing. Now that I think about all of this, though, it is really sad that digital media has so much of a grip on my life. What happened to evenings of sitting on the porch playing a guitar singing folk songs?
My patio is nice and I thought about going out there this evening … but this time of year there are a lot of spiders in the shadows. By the time I gathered my amenities and shoed away those critters, arghhh, too much spooky hassle for me … and it’s a l-o-n-g way back & forth to the printer.
So who’s fault is it I’m left wallowing in so many furstrations of cyberspace, as if that’s the best option? But I can’t play guitar and, oh, and I can’t sing either.
Those darned protestors.
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