Take Two

Hello World, L'Shana Tovah! Now is the time that we can finally wish everyone a very Happy Jewish New Year, and don't spare the latkes, if you please! It's true that I have my suspicions about any holiday that doesn't include green beer and fireworks, but I'm sure that we can count on people having a very happy time of it nonetheless, in their own way. Please don't forget to wear red, drink champagne, and toss your beads at strangers, to really get into the spirit of things, whether you're actually Jewish or not. Now I notice that The Holiday Police are desperately trying to get my attention, and our old friends the dinosaurs are rolling on the floor laughing their heads off, so I have the feeling that not all of those suggestions are appropriate for this particular event - but frankly, I tend to lose interest in any occasion where chocolate is not the main ingredient. For anyone who hasn't been living under a rock for the past year, it's been impossible to ignore the pandemonium and hoopla over (as they always say in sports broadcasts, "the future Hall of Famer") Derek Jeter retiring after 20 seasons with Da Bombers, leaving the Bronx a much poorer and sadder place, alas. There were tributes to him in every stadium in every baseball city, with the home-town fans greeting him with waves of welcoming applause, and cheering him like one of their very own, wherever he went. It was reported in the Sports section of the local paper that young people in their 20's came from all over the region for his final homestand at Yankee Stadium, many of whom pointed out that he's the only shortstop they've ever known in pinstripes, for their whole lives. Those of us "of a certain age" and growing up in The Empire State can certainly relate to that - at least I know I felt that way about Nelson Rockefeller in my formative years, way back in the day, as they say now. Since he ruled the roost in Albany from 1959-1973, I had no other experience with anyone else holding that spot. In fact, I always thought that the title of the position was really "Governor Rockefeller," regardless of the name of the person actually holding office at the time, and if anyone else got elected, they would still be called Governor Rockefeller anyway. So hats off to #2, as the Captain sails off into the sunset for the final time, and as so many before him, those are shoes that will never be filled. And while we're on the topic of filling things up, I screwed up my courage and tramped back into a room that had basically been used for storage, lo these many years upon years - with the somewhat sketchy plan of returning it to its original purpose of an actual room, and not just a dumping ground for copious piles of random unwanted detritus, as it was currently. When the roofers were here long ago with their Dumpster, we had managed to make some good headway into what we always referred to as our "computer graveyard," and ditched a bunch of outmoded technology that was obsolete even by prehistoric standards, with the howls of derisive laughter from our old friends the dinosaurs still ringing in our ears. But apparently there was even more yet still to go, as I discovered in my reclamation efforts, and digging ever deeper below the surface revealed the sordid truth of the matter, with warts and all, and I ought to know. There were another two dead desktops buried in there, and two more monitors, including one ancient CRT model that seemed to weigh about as much as my car. I also turned up a handful of old roller ball mouses, and believe it or not, 7 keyboards (!!!) including 5 that were PS/2, and two that were actually serial, if anyone even understands what that means anymore. (Notwithstanding the ill-mannered guffaws from The Peanut Gallery, you can just go ahead and ask your grandparents if you have no idea what serial ports are.) So far, it's been an interesting walk down Memory Lane, digital style, and more yet to be uncovered in its squalid labyrinths, no doubt. Parallel cords and 5-1/4" floppy diskettes, anyone? Meanwhile on the local scene, I bumped into one of our neighbors in the supermarket, who was recently back from visiting relatives in the state of Washington. (And was she ever glad to get back here to this glorious weather, especially after the inclement conditions out there, you can believe that.) She was telling me about the grocery store where her family shops, which was part of a chain in that area. She said that just like a lot of stores nowadays, they have an automatic water mister to keep the produce at its best - but the difference there was that just before it goes on, it makes the sound of distant thunder and the smell of fresh rain. Apparently this is what passes for humor in Seattle, where they probably have little enough to keep them amused, I'm thinking. Then she said the next thing you know, they would have the sound of cows mooing in the dairy section, or the aroma of hay bales. We had a good laugh about that, but I said it would certainly make me avoid the aisle with the dog food and cat litter, that's for sure. Of course, I always say that technology is a double-edged sword, and I think we can all agree that we've all long since learned that what they call progress (such as it is) may not always be a good thing, and there's just no two ways about it. Elle