One Last Bite

Updated to add: My dear and lovely wife Rita is gone. She passed at seven p.m. here in Germany the last day of September, after battling a series of cancers and tumors that eventually consumed her. She passed at home, in as peaceful and loving an environment as any of us could wish for ourselves or any of the loved ones we hold dear. She was truly a very special princess.  Details of memorials and services to follow. This blogpost was being proofed for release as I watched over her in her final hours.

Fast Food and Timeless Love

Those who follow my life’s travails on Facebook will have a better grip on the decidedly gloomy situation imposed upon our family by the continued degradations from my wife’s terminal illness.  There’s enough pain, sorrow and heartache to drive many a formerly sober man to whisky, without delving into the hoarier details involved in cohabiting in the apartment above my 85 year old Nazi-era mother-in-law!  Before proceeding, be advised that these missives have been prepared and released under the most dire of circumstances and incredible stresses.

On the matter of the extraneous errata of my sick mind, it’s probably as a result of the mind blowing decisions my wife and I discussed being up against, of which a brief glimpse is offerered in the love story I’m sharing with you today.

Whatever else bubbles out of my brain, today’s offering is just a ‘simple’ tale of a man and his dying wife going out on their last dinner date together in a romantic German location, on a rare balmy night in late Autumn somewhere close enough to Paris to fear guillotines pulled by donkeys headed north.

For some odd reason, the French really have issues with the past when it comes to dealing with the Germans, but there were no wagon wheels or donkey hooves pounding north on the cobblestone streets the night of our last dinner together.  It was just another of the minor blessings that have fallen our direction.

We grab blessings these days with all the vigor we can manage, because time and the degree of significance of their appearance is amplified by the deepening shadows and gathering storms we’ve ignored in order to remain in our amorous stupor for as long as is humanly possible.  You count your blessings where you find them.  That’s the philosophy Rita and I have maintained for a quarter century together and I’m not messing with success.

The Gathering Storms

If you’ve an aversion to fear, death, Nazi storm troopers, video game screen caps or humor bred of morbid fear and impending doom, stop now.  Everyone else…..
Continue reading

Stripping Away The Clutter

Won't Get Fooled Again

Good morning America.  Did you hear the exciting news concerning the new Facebook app?  Well if you haven’t, here’s the skinny.  Facebook is reportedly stripping down, and gunning for the look and feel of Flipboard, only with an emphasis on your Facebook feed as a source of data and news.  I’ve used Flipboard and IIRC you tell the app exactly the websites and such that you want it to feed you. I can’t recall if Flipboard also has one of the tabs where they offer up things their data mining software feels is appropriate to you (or the advertisers pay them enough to pimp).

The Facebook Newsfeed Process

Facebook News Feed Process

With Facebook, picking and choosing websites and “news” in your feed is the equivalent of pinning The New York Times, The National Enquirer, The Onion, all the junk mail you received the last month via post directly to your living room wall and blindly throwing darts at them to select the news you will see and read any given day.  If Facebook goes down, or our computers are all killed by an errant solar flare, it’ll be the closest analog solution for those Facebook addicts to calm their withdrawal symptoms.

Like or Share to tickle Baby Jeebus

With Facebook, there’s no way to protect yourself against a constant influx of Fox News hyperbole or missives invoking you to “LIKE and SHARE if you want to tickle Baby Jeebus” because yourr friends list contains so many of your aging shut-in parents and grandparents, as well as the obligatory odd crazy uncle.  Bless them for sure, but if Facebook can’t figure out, given all they already know about me, that I don’t want to see a steady stream of evangelical Christian nonsense, then why should I get all excited that it’ll be coming at me with smoother graphics?  But that’s not the issue that needs to be addressed.  The clutter that needs to be removed isn’t the ever-present sidebars which allow space for even more obnoxious marketing ads, links to friends and groups, or the live streaming real-time ticker that continual documents and scrolls every action of every person on your friend list.   No indeed.  Facebook is broken in a way that I haven’t yet seen addressed.  I don’t care how well they dress up the pig they call Facebook.  Put a fancy dress and lipstick on it and it’ll still be a pig.   To be continued.


Church Bells Enschede

Church in Enschede