Curse You, Tiny Toilet!

Two of our toilets have been bad and have to be punished.

The story: The toilet in the kids' bathroom has been running for the last few weeks. I tried a new flapper, a new valve, but nothing was really working.

As I tinkered with it today I noticed a more serious problem: The toilet was leaking via the bolts that hold the tank to the bowl.

So I thought I'd be clever and replace it with the toilet from the basement bathroom I'm remodeling. Of course that toilet was also leaking from the bolts, probably because the seal dried out from disuse.

So we went to Home Depot, bought a new Kohler, and installed it. We're on a leak check for the next 24 hours, but I'm hopeful that problem is fixed. Now I just have to buy a new toilet for the basement.

The Sock

Allow me to introduce The Sock.

It arrived sometime in the recent past under mysterious circumstances. I say mysterious because no one who lives here will claim The Sock as their own. Yet it still shows up in the laundry and after everyone has claimed their clean clothes, The Sock remains on the table, abandoned and forlorn, until someone gets tired of seeing it and deposits it in someone else's bedroom, only for it to resurface again in the laundry a few days later.

So if you need a sock, let me know and I'll happily mail The Sock to you. You'll have to pay postage to get it back if it shows up again in our laundry, though.

Blame "Captain" Kook

If I had a nickel for every story told in our house with this ending, I wouldn't have to work anymore.

Funny thing, though. I have it in my head that it was "Captain Kook's" treasure. That's how I always say it. But I guess that's mandela effect.

Work today was . . . weird. My boss was gone, and other co-workers were at an all-day training session, so it was oddly quiet in our little corner of the world.

It was nice. The quiet is something I miss the most from working from home. Aside from the occasional trip to take the dogs outside, work from home was pretty quiet. No interruptions. No forced small talk in the hallways or restrooms (by the sinks, never by the urinals).

We'll See; I'm Pretty Dense

When I saw this at the local thrift, I knew it was coming home with me.

Not because I think I'll be able to understand any of it -- I peeked into the book before I bought it and saw algebra equations. But I'm gonna try.

Thus far, I'm on shaky ground. I understand the metaphor of lighting striking simultaneously in two different spots on train tracks and the light from the strike we're choo-chooing away from arriving later (relatively later) than the light from the strike we're approaching. On our minute scale the difference is less than negligible, but at interstellar distances, yeah, it makes sense.

But boy, with the first two chapters focusing - I think - on teaching me that we exist in a comprehensible three-dimensional space nearly going over my head, my hopes of understanding the rest aren't high.

Moronic Algorithm

 

Me: [hides a dozen Facebook groups offering AI-craptacular views of the lunar eclipse and the recent planetary alignment.]

Facebook: Oh, you must want MOAR low-effort, craptacular AI-related astronomy-adjacent groups to see.

Seriously, the algorithm is a moron.

Paris Waltz

I stumbled across this video on YouTube over the weekend. I'm a big fan of classical music and spent a few hours Sunday evening listening to various piano music.

I had no idea this was a modern composition by an "unknown" until I started reading the comments because I was unfamiliar with the artist.

Gotta say, well done.

One commenter said it didn't sound particularly Parisian, and I had to beg to differ. It reminds me of Erik Satie for one, and definitely has that vibe. It's got a lot of wonderful color to it, warm, yet spiky, maybe like a spring drizzle. I'd go to a concert or buy the album to hear more of this music.

Honors and Benefits - But A Middleman? No Thanks.

So we are members of AARP. That is supposed to bring us benefits.

One of the benefits is tax preparation help.

And I guess AARP member beggars shouldn't be choosers, but I'm not exactly thrilled with the help being offered.

Apparently, we can go to their tax prep center and they'll do our taxes for free. I would much rather, however, have an AARP discount on tax preparation software so I can not only continue doing my taxes at home as I've done them for many years past, but also help me kids with their taxes using the same software, getting a lot of bang for my buck.

Because with free tax prep help, all I'm really getting is a chose and a social interaction I'd much rather avoid.

With a discount on tax software, I'm getting a chore and the ability to amortize the cost of the software over a minimum of three returns, thus helping more people and not involving an extra middleman in my taxitude.

I'd rather not be Gil in this situation, rocking back and forth with my pathetic bag of receipts awaiting the doom the AARP taxman bringeth. I'd rather see the doom come myself.

I Hope I Got the Stupid Finger Pointing Right

Getting ready to film my own stupid scam Internet video

Old Testament? Not my Favorite

I'll admit the Old Testament is not my favorite bit of scripture to teach.

A few weeks ago, my wife got to avoid teaching this particular tale from Genesis 9:

After the whole ark business, Noah gets a bit drunk and passes out in his tent, starkers. His son Ham comes in, sees the naked dad, and he and his brothers cover Noah up.

Upon awaking, Noah learns of the thing and curses Canaan, Ham's son. Grandkid gets cursed because his dad saw grandpa's ding-dong.

Even our lesson materials has this to say:

This week, I get to avoid talking about other drunken escapades where Lot's daughters get Dad drunk and have sex so he can have, well, I don't know I guess. Descendants? Because his daughters don't count?

Our materials say this is included to show origins:

So that'll be fun. I guess it does show that you could take the daughters out of Sodom and Gomorrah, but not Sodom and Gomorrah out of the daughters.

Anyway, this is what I feel like sometimes:

 

We have state legislators who want daily Bible reading to be part of the public school curriculum. Fine. But they have to read these parts too.

Are They *Really*?

The Guardian is trying to get me upset about the loss of trade paperback books.

Their story sez:

But the era of the “pocket book” is drawing to a close. ReaderLink, the biggest book distributor in the US, announced recently that it would stop distributing mass-market paperbacks. The decision follows years of plummeting sales, from 131m units in 2004 to 21m in 2024, and marks the end of a format that once democratised reading for the working class.

Romero, who grew up in the working-class, Latino and industrial city of Hialeah, Florida, says: “I don’t remember a bookstore. I had the library in Miami Springs across the bridge but in Hialeah around us, what was in walking distance because we didn’t have a car, was the Publix [supermarket] and sometimes we would get books from Goodwill [thrift store] as well.

“They had that democratic aspect to them where you can just find them anywhere and it always felt like it was the pick ’n’ mix candy-type store where there is something here for everyone, whether it’s the Harlequin romance novel or something very pulpy like a sci-fi or horror novel that you could quickly get.”

I'll admit: I don't remember book stores either. I mean, we had Pioneer Book, sure. But I was a big borrower from the library, and sneaked books off the classroom shelves in elementary school. While I do remember buying books from a grocery store as they describe here, they were exclusively Peanuts comic strip books.

When I was serious about buying books, it was the thrift store. Deseret Industries, one of our local thrifts, occasionally ran sales when they had too many books and I could come home with ten for a dollar. Those were heady days.

I still shop a lot there for books, abut also hit up used book sellers on the Internet as well. As far as I'm concerned, there is no book shortage.

I just bought a new little pile last weekend. It's fun.