Sunday, August 14, 2011

Food Chain

                                                               
                                                                                               
Ten days ago                                                
The great horned owl appeared                  
Sitting on a light pole
Calling.  ‘Come here, Come here’.
Mama kitty disappeared
Two days before
This morning, again,
She sat calling
For the others.
‘Come out, come out
Wherever you are’.
I chased her away.
The coyotes are singing tonight
Not their usual, happy,
We got some dinner,
We got some dinner’, song.
Like the night she went missing.
This was more of a
Sister got hurt song.
Last week it sounded like the
‘Send us more furries
She tasted good’,  Song.
They tell me
There’s bobcats around.
She was a baby alone on the prairie
When she found me
She survived all that before
and
Snakes too.
Even the two legged kind.
Wish I had a gun.
But what would I shoot?

©2005
                                                                                               
                                                                                                 

Saturday, August 13, 2011

User Friendly


User Friendly.  That was the term coined by the computer industry to encourage the sale of their wares.  I suppose, after all the science fiction books and movies – remember Colossus, The Forbin Project, HAL from 2001, A space Odyssey, and Vonnegut’s ILLIAC – it was a necessary deception.  These stories depict computers as autonomous villains, able to run amok at will, for no apparent reason.  This, of course, is impossible, for the time being anyway.
            Computers were already user friendly, sort of.  We have been using primitive computers – as remote controls, digital alarm clocks, and cash registers – for many years.  Though to be honest, not everyone can program a simple clock.  Then came VCRs.  Another computer.  A VCR proved to me that not only do real men not ask for directions, they also do not read them.  The day I arrived home to watch Shane, my man was nearly in tears.  The VCR would not record.  He insisted that not only had he read the directions, but also I had obviously bought him a defective unit.  I quickly agreed, but said let’s look at it again before we exchange it.  Actually, it could not be exchanged, as I had purchased it under suspicious conditions.  After reading the manual, I was able to get it functioning properly, but alas, it was too late.  Shane was over. 
            Imagine the turmoil a PC (personal computer) would bring to that man.  Several years later, he bought one, from a home shopping show.  It was touted as the latest model, at a reduced price.  We later learned that these were the orts, manufacturers were selling off prior to releasing newer versions.  Having been a detective in the New York Police Department, he knew he would have no problems with it.  I still had the VCR on my mind.  Actually, he acquitted himself very well; it was I who had the problem.  Mind you, I had been working with computers, PCs, and programmers for over ten years.  Battles with programmers, who told me you could not do this or that, were won when I insisted they approach the situation from another viewpoint.  I got the data bases and search parameters I needed. 
            When Richie’s computer arrived I was ready, and so was hubris.  I knew it all.  Now, no one really reads all those huge manuals that are included, not even me.  However, you really did not need to, as so much was ‘user friendly’ or self-explanatory.  At that time, you still had the C:\ (command prompt) and your windows application.  For those of you who are just getting to know PCs, C:\ was a plain black screen, with green, orange, or white lettering.  Most computers would open into that function, even if they had a windows application  When I began using computers there were no commercially available windows programs for home purchase.  We were uptown.  I explored.
            By this time, Richie was a Private Investigator working with Legal Aid.  He wanted programs similar to those he had used at the P.D., where pressing an F key would bring up a rap sheet or some other form for him to fill in the fields, without changing the rest of the form.  That would have taken about $2000 for a programmer.  Six months of intensive study would probably have enabled me to learn how to program, if I was lucky.  I was too busy.  While there were programs I could have adapted in GeoWorks - the windows application - it did not look like the forms he was used to.  Lotus provided the next best solution.  I borrowed the disks from a friend who worked at a bank.  The warnings about non-qualified users and theft gave me no pause.  I loaded Lotus 1-2-3 onto the computer and created forms that Richie deigned to use.  Now I was a computer Goddess.  I could do anything.  Things went along smoothly, for a time.  I learned file management and how to create buttons to choose which application to use and which one to start the computer in.  They were well hidden, but I was even able to ferret out the games in QBasic.  Disaster struck.  Tooling along in my merry, confident way, I disappeared everything from the screen.
            Did I panic?  I did not.  Why, you may wonder?  Because I knew that everything was still in there.  I shut the computer down and waited til all sound died, and then started it again, knowing it would re-boot itself.  But the screen was still blank.  I heard the horses trotting along as if it were doing something, but there was no color, no light.  No problem.  I opened the manual and read the index.  Seemingly appropriate topics were useless.  Customer Support ran through my mind.  Where had I put that 800 number?
            This was when the home PC industry was still in its infancy, so there was only a two-minute wait for a technician, who cheerily asked me about my problem.  I told him.  First there was a pause, then he said to “shut the computer off, turn it on again and when the C:\ comes on” I stopped listening.  I knew he had not understood the extent of my loss.  When he wound down I simply said, “I’ve lost the C prompt.”  Another pause, then in incredulous “What?” came over the wire.I explained that the C prompt would not appear, though I could hear the horses, but no bells, lights or whistles.  An even longer pause as the tech attempted to gain control of his laughter.  When he could speak, he said “Don’t worry, it’s all still in there.”  “I know that.”  I said.  “I just can’t make it come out and play with me.”   He double-checked to make sure he had the right steps, while I waited, finger poised over the keyboard.  I did as I was told, oddly, without question.  The horses galloped.  Lights reappeared.  As the system re-set itself, I asked him to repeat the steps, so I could write them down.  Just in case.
            I asked if there were any other games, besides Gorilla and Nibbler.  He did not know about these, and asked if I had solitaire and chess.  Yes, in Geoworks, I said.  “Where are the other games?” he asked.  I told him how to access them through the C:\ and QBasic.  Although they were accessed through the C:\, they were full color graphics.  I had redeemed myself.
            State of the art computers have new quirks.  The disk I use in the MAC notebook Dad gave me cannot be accessed at Kinko’s.  Dad taught computer graphics for many years and if he couldn’t make it work with all the additional programs and training he has, no one could.  He was able to print out my phone book, but alas, Kinko’s machine had already altered the format on the disk, so it was in a peculiar format.  I sold the notebook.  Most of the time now, I use the new Gateways at our local University Library.  The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation donated some of these.  There are several older models I do not use.  Our governor had donated them earlier, albeit without programming.  Some wise University employee installed programming from even older computers.  They are not interchangeable with the Janklow donees.  There is one unit, which will not print unless it is connected to the Internet.  Unfortunately, this same machine does not like the Internet.  See how easily one ascribes human qualities to machines?  Is it any wonder writers make them evil?   You cannot reach the University website from any of the computers at the University Library, where most students use computers.  I have always said, computers are not logical.
            The Library was to be closed for four days last week and I had papers to write.  My friend Sharon graciously offered to give me her old computer.  It has no Windows application and the printer requires that special paper with the holes.  Nevertheless, it works and is in my home.  It does not have the usual distractions of the Internet.  The disc system is a 5.5” floppy drive, which no one uses anymore, and she had no manuals.  That means I will have to retype this onto the Gateway eventually, providing I can get the printer to work in the first place, to have something to copy.  Sharon said the games probably would not work.  So far, I have not been able to trick them into playing with me.  Perhaps when I am not on a deadline, or if I can find a number for the company, which took over from the original manufacturer....  Meanwhile, my time would likely be better spent attempting to work the printer.  If you are reading this....

©2006

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Addiction


I never understood addiction,
Drugs, alcohol, sex, I have all done without.
A friend once gave me a drug,
And I caught a glimpse of the possibilities for feeding a need!
Still, I walked away uncaught by it all.
I was strong then!
And then I came here.
Still, it took time,
Sucking me in so sweetly, sliding, slipping, silently, surreptitiously, succoring, suckering, seemingly inviting.
Old familiar friends, family, foes, are all here.
I cannot wait to see them every day, night, morning, evening, weekday, weekend
Neglecting work, school, chores, social events, still I miss nothing,
Except venomous words of those, I do not esteem.
Would there were more hours, to spend with them all.
How can I escape this madness?
I see only its glory, grandeur, and magnificence, dismissing all the baiting, biting, beating, bleating and bleeding, the perfidy, and the poverty and paucity of spirit.
A plethora of poets, pundits, paupers, princes, priests, playing, plying, performing powerfully for all.
Yet, I wonder who I am in the midst of all this.
Mother, sister, lover, mistress, flirt, inamorata, confessor and confessed, yes, all of these and more, fulfilling their needs and mine.
We come together and help, hurt, heal, hinder, horrify, each other and ourselves.
Offers of love, lust, adoration, beguiling the caring, curious, crazy codependents
Feeding my needs instantly, available every minute, every hour of every day
Who needs real people, where there are invitations, proposals, propositions, pitches, plans, and schemes, here to satisfy any taste or inclination?
Don’t even want to get away; think I will stay.

Passion


She needs a man
   Who is strong enough
       To withstand the
           Waves of passion
               She looses
                   On the world,
                       In Delight of it’s wonders.

                              He wonders at the fury
                                  And fears the day
                                      She will turn it
                                          Against him.
                                              So he flees
                                                  The passion
                                                      For which he yearns.
                              
                                                      She yearns to awaken
                                                  The passion she sees
                                               Deep within him.
                                           Almost certain he fears
                                       The resulting fury,
                                   As he plays the role…
                              Missing the ecstasy.

                       He gives her ecstasy
                    So compelling,
                She rages when
           He is gone.
        Passions seething,
   Awaiting his return,
To charm and delight.

Who will delight?
   Whose passion will ignite?
       The fiery mistress, or the
            Master of nonchalance.
               The inferno will
                   Reduce them to ashes
                       And begin healing…
               
                             Healing those who
                                 Reverence
                                      Honor
                                           Passion
                                               Wonder
                                                    And delight
                                                       In another…..
                             

                  


They’re All No Good









They’re all no good.
                                 Men, that is.
                                                             But we love them anyway.       


Anyway, we’re no better.
                                Women, that is.
  But they love us in spite of that.
That’s good.
                             ‘Cause what else,
                                     Is there?

The Whole World Is Family


 
 
I love a window seat,
Whenever I fly.
 
But not this time,
When I came to New York.
 
I didn’t want to see the skyline,
And how different it would be.
 
I grew up here in New York,
And we are proud of our city.
 
But it doesn’t look the same,
Since they knocked her down.
 
I went to ground zero today,
It’s been four years since.
 
It hurt to think other human beings,
Could hate us all so much.
 
They called it a war,
I just don't understand,
 
How anyone can hate that much
 
But then just look 
at
Family wars
 

Boy Toy





He likes chick flicks

And porn movies

And making me laugh



I like to laugh



Our eyes lit up

When we met



We were brilliant

In everything we said

We laughed



And said good-bye



I should have let it go at that



But he came back

And I let him in



He likes my mind

And my popcorn

And the history channel



And making me laugh



He stayed

And I slept through the night

Safe

In his arms



We laughed



And said goodbye



I saw him

At my friends house

And he said

He would hurt me

We didn’t laugh



And said good-bye



But he came back

And I let him in



I cooked

And he loved it

And he stayed

For a week



We laughed



And said good-bye



Next time we fought



It took a long time

But he came back

And I let him in



We laughed

 And said good-bye



And he came back

And I let him in



And we laughed



And said good-bye



Then he came back

I didn’t want

To let him in



But I did



And he cooked

And told me he loves me



And we said good-bye



It took a long time

But he came back



And I let him in



And we laughed



We said good-bye



And he came back

And we said good-bye

And he came back

And we said good-bye

And he came back



I always let him in



And we would start out laughing

And loving

And we said good-bye

Dozens of times





Don’t fall in love

With a Boy Toy



Next time

I won’t open the door





Yeah, right

I don’t believe that



Do you?



Pray for me



Please?