MONDAY MORNING 23/07/2012/07:42 hrs. My digs, raiming 19 degrees C
The bundle of keys in my pocket dig into my thigh as I listen to Willie Nelson sing “Blue Skies” very beautiful song from my youth followed by Stan Kenton and a trombone solo from Pete Trunolo.
My new laptop sits on the table in front of me. It appears like I’ve gotten something sticky of the cover which I immediately clean off and wrap it in a padded cover in preparation to putting it in my $18.00 carrying bag.
Yesterday got out all my old Nikon film equipment and cleaned and checked the lenses and the meters on my F2 and F3 and the batteries in the motor drives. The old equipment is heavy by today’s standards but then programmed obsolescence was on a yearly basis not on a 90 day cycle.
I ignore the clutter in my suite because the flat surface rule is in force which states that every flat surface will be covered in clutter in lieu of putting things in their alloyed space.
Its vacuum time again, my most hated task in that in this walk in closet sized suite to do a proper job every piece of furniture must be moved.
Its also carpet cleaning time once again. I’ve spilled something sticky in front of the TV that resists an easy cleanup, sigh.
I’m going to have to see if I can afford a storage locker because all the junk which I want to keep seems to be breeding and taking up all the space on my shelves and balcony. Some of the junk should have made it to the dumster in the alley when it was available but I was in Montreal at the time so I missed it.
Its also time to retire some of my old computer equipment most of it perfectly serviceable but unable to work on the newer OS and things like the Canon bubble jet that I used until the introductory cartridges gave out and I found out that replacement cartridges were twice the cost of the printer. My HP 5500 scanner won’t work on the new OS and although its perfectly adequate in performance it has become redundant and a victim of programmed obsolescence.
I view my continued existence on this mortal coil to be a function of dumb luck as where and when I was born and where I happened to be over the last seventy six years. There were 2.5 billion people on this earth when I was born, there are now 7.5 billion and counting.
All the wars, droughts, floods, earthquakes, hurricanes and tough winters and pandemics have not out paced our ability to soon fuck ourselves out of a place at the table.