Why is the Save Icon a Vending Machine?

When I saw this comment on a random Facebook thread, I felt my age:

I mean, I understand that we tend to identify images with what's familiar, so seeing the save icon as a vending machine at least makes sense in the "that thing looks like another thing" way.

But what, I wonder, does the vending machine have to do with preserving a document or image so it can be used later? I just don't know.

I know for me, floppy discs are a ubiquitous part of my computer-related experience, from the AOL 3 1/2 inch floppied I'd salvage from the mail and use (can't imagine doing that now with viruses and such) to the massive 8-inch floppies I used on typesetting computers I used in high school, viz:

I've used all three of these; owned computers that used the mid- and smallest variety. And I remember the day I filled a 3 1/2 inch floppy COMPLETELY FULL with data. No one in the world had ever done that before, I imagined.

Also: It really bugs me that the 3 1/2 inch floppy shown here is oriented upside down in relationto the other floppies displayed. But the younger generation, looking at this photo, will likely not notice the discrepancy because they've never used these things and the youngest don't even know what they are.

It's best to remember young folk, that we Gen Xers grew up with technology. Because of that, we have the ability to both adapt to new technology like you young folks and to complain about it like Boomers. That is our unique niche.

Amazon Blink Doorbell: A Review That Is Not Necessarily an Endorsement

My wife got her Dad a Blink video doorbell for his birthday a week ago. She asked if I wouldn't mind installing it for him since I successfully installed our Ring doorbell a few years prior, and I agreed.

A week and three tinkering sessions later, I can conclude that while the Blink does indeed function as a video doorbell, the app and the installation instructions for the device leave a lot to be desired.

What I was expecting: Since I had installed our own Ring, I was expecting that level of compentency from the app and instructions: Smooth flow through every step necessary to connect the camera to our existing doorbell writing and fluid connection between the doorbell and our other Amazon devices.

What I got: Incomplete instructions that left me guessing why the video feed from the camera wasn't showing up in the app or on any of the connected Amazon devices.

There was one particular problem that wasn't Amazon's fault, though it did befuddle me for a while: The existing doorbell wiring was shorting out on the aluminum cladding around the doorjamb. That was preventing the doorbell from connecting at all to the other devices, but once I figured that out I was able to get the camera to communicate.

Alas, no video.

But here I felt that the instructions were incomplete. I recalled from the Ring installation that there was a step involving the existing doorbell chime that the Blink installation instructions seemed to have omitted. I set that concern aside as I struggled with the obvious problem: Sound seemed to work (though the existing chime didn't) but it was the video that was not. I spent a good hour today poking around in the camera settings and also in the Alexa settings to no avail.

But the chime problem kept nagging me.

So I found a setting that concerned testing the existing chime for functionality. I followed that bit of instruction -- left out of the original setup -- and the chime worked. And so, magically, did the video feed. Clearly in the app's logic tree was the fact that the chime function had to be confirmed for the "connected to home wiring" loop to close. Keep that in mind when installing your own Blink.

Anyway, the app/instructions for the Blink, in omitting this step, are flawed. A user shouldn't have to struggle over hours trying to guess why the video connection wasn't working only to figure out that the chime functionality closed the home wiring loop and made the whole shebang work. If that's essential, it should be included in the initial setup.

My father-in-law is pretty happy with the setup now that it's working, and I'm certainly glad it's all working now. But getting it to work shouldn't have been so laborious.

Ooga

I have become Mordac, Preventer of Information Services.

Or at least his less-competent minion, The Guy Who Maybe Gets Stuff Done If You Ask Him Enough Times to Do It.

That’s at home, at least, where I spent a good portion of my time working to get InDesign put back on Michelle’s desktop computer.

And what a pain that was. Some of it was necessarily self-inflicted, but most of it was due to Adobe.

You know Adobe – they created InDesign, which Michelle loves. Many moons ago we bought the third iteration of their Creative Suite. They have, as is the wont of software companies, moved on. But they have moved on from an insanely-expensive product – as I recall, we paid more than $300, with student discounts for CS3 – to an even more insanely-expensive monthly subscription service for their newest iterations.

And a while back her computer crashed so I had to try to reinstall her suite, which wouldn’t work. Last weekend, I reset her computer back to factory settings – minus the removal of the Windows 10 upgrade, which apparently has its tentacles wrapped and locked – and tried again. Got to the last step, and no-go. Then had to go online with Adobe support for more than an hour for a new product key, and a new setup file. Not happy. And not, technically, sure it’s fully installed and operational.

And because we had to reset to factory, I had to reinstall a bunch of other software, printer drivers, etc. And I’m not sure I’m done with those, either. The next thirty days will tell. Or sooner, if she gets messages about any trial use and such, which I hope she does not for InDesign.

One Mordac success this weekend: We replaced two keyboards.

Fingers Crossed

So I finally got to tend to my possibly-dead computer over the weekend.

Amateur diagnosis: Maybe something bad, maybe something good. I don’t know. But I’m going to find out. This is no mere History Eraser Button – it’s my computer.

I’m not a complete idiot when it comes to fixing computers. I have replaced fans, power supplies, installed memory and video cards, etc., and worked on many a printer issue and software problem. But it’s mostly trial and error. And when my computer wouldn’t go beyond the HP startup screen, I knew getting it working again was beyond my ken.

Fortunately, my wife knows a guy through Scouting who does computer diagnostics and repair, so we took the box to him Sunday night, hoping he can fix it for me.

I’m hoping at minimum I can get some data recovered – there are a couple of incomplete novels, a lot of journal entries, pictures, etc., on that computer that I may or may not have backed up somewhere. The journal entries would be the biggest loss, as most of them are scans of paper journals that I no longer have (why I thought it was a good idea to toss the paper once the scans were done is beyond me).

A lot of it can be replaced, but it’s things like comic strips and Simpsons memes that I’ve collected over the years, and the thought of having to start over again brings to mind one of the memes I may have lost:

So, clearly, First World Problem, because with one computer dead that leaves me only with five other computers to choose from in the house.

[Checks onion on belt.] Back in the day when I had that old Royal typewriter, if it was broke, I just didn’t type any more letters.

I wonder what I did with that typewriter? Not that I have room for it in the study, what with the two printers, boxes of monitors and other electronics that sit there idle and useless, waiting for the thrift store under construction nearby to open so I can drop them off. It would be neat, however. . .

And, yes, I should be backing up more frequently. To my credit, I have tried.

I don’t like Dropbox because if I want to use it as backup, the item I’m backing up MYSTERIOUSLY DISAPPEARS from my computer, thus eliminating the basic tenet of a backup, which in my mind is having TWO COPES of the same thing in different places.

I use DVDs and thumb drives as backups, barring from my mind the HORROR stories of such media losing data over time and making your memories IRRETRIEVABLE and replacing it with mocking pictures of clowns and other such stuff.

I have hard copies of some stuff, but then I’m back to the storage problems that made scanning and chucking the paper copies such an attractive idea in the first place.

It’s also possible I have backups of much of my stuff on the kids’ computer in the kitchen, as that used to be my computer and is still reliably churning away, although the computer I have which is broken is a lot younger than the kids’ computer is.

Diagnosis: Mount Hebron DEAD from de Snappy and de Peppy

When you get and send a bunch of emails at work because you asked your wife for something on your desktop at home and your desktop is dying.

The Backcountry Tablet

I confess I have taken my Kindle Fire hiking.

Probably a stupid thing to do, carry an expensive device over lava fields, leaping over cracks in the earth; or up dusty trails, through woods, or out on the riverbanks. One drop and it’s all over, pal.

Besides, its utility in the backcountry has always been a bit limited. I have a full survival manual on my Kindle, but the topographical maps are always dependent on an always-on Internet connection (yes, I have a free app, but I understand the paid apps work on the same stupid, stupid principle).

So when I read TechCrunch’s article on Earl, the Android tablet “that wants to be your backcountry buddy,” I was intrigued. And at $279 a pop (if it ever gets out of development stage) I’d seriously consider buying one.

Here’s why it’s neat: It incorporates technology that other tablets should have already – the ability to pick up AM and even FM radio signals, the ability to function as a two-way radio without a blinking Internet connection, and a few others, including a solar panel for recharging and a robust anti-dust and anti-water chassis. (While the solar thing is cool, I have to wonder about costs in getting this beast repaired with the addition of a panel. Also, I have a portable solar panel that might work to charge my current stable of tablets. I’ll have to look at that more closely.)

TechCrunch is a little hazy on the details. I wonder if this works on the ham radio frequencies and thus would require the operator to get a license (not that big of a deal).

So as always, I go to the source, where I can meet Earl in person. They tell me this works on FRS/GMRS systems, as well as MURS – making it a pretty versatile device that would generally not require a license to operate. (Some GMRS channels required FCC licensing.) Pretty cool.

The guide part looks a little looser – if you want an always-there topo map, guides, or whatever, you’ll have to pay for them. But then again, having them all in one neat little package might make the extra cost worth it.

Tablet technology being what it is, though, Kindle and company could catch up (or may have this kind of thing already; I’m really rather ignorant of what apps are available). And the Earl has no camera, which is another reason to enjoy carrying my Fire around (cuts down on the baggage, see).

Kindle-Free

Because three children under 12 tried to drag me into an argument over who got to lay in the hammock in the cabin up at Island Park Scout Camp, I inadvertently left my Kindle Fire there, in care of said children and my wife, who have spent the balance of the summer working at the camp leaving me to fend for myself in the wilds of Ammon, Idaho. (The Kindle was in the cabin and they were arguing at me when I was trying to pack after spending the weekend there. I packed hurriedly and fled.)

That in of itself is tragic. But now I must spend the entire week without my beloved precious. We'll see how that goes.

I know that sounds funny, coming from a guy whose house is bulging with electronics, including a formerly much-beloved iPod Touch that was relegated to alarm clock status until the Fire Debacle occurred this weekend.

I will try to remain strong.

First impressions:

1. The iPod Touch is incredibly small. It is the noisy cricket of tablets. Every time I pick it up, it feels like I'm holding one of the more fragile Faberge eggs.
2. I'm still a nervous nelly about missing my alarm, no matter what device I'm using to get myself out of bed. I finally gave up checking the time when I woke up ten minutes before my alarm was supposed to go off.
3. I wish I knew what happened to my iPod Touch case, packed away when we moved and now the only significant item of mine that remains AWOL. Maybe I should check the boxes that hold my ugly tie and Mexican wrestling mask collections.
4. My wife will probably want a report on my Kindle-free week, as she mocks me mercilessly for how often I'm seen, Kindle in hand. Although she is the one who insists on taking her iPad to the grocery store on the flimsy notion that it contains her shopping list.

Further bulletins as events warrant.

A Prediction

Here’s my technological prognostication for the tail-end of 2011: Sometime, say, within the next ten years, electricians will begin hard-wiring USB ports alongside standard electricity plugs in new and remodel construction, to keep up with our demand for electronic gadgetry that recharges through USB ports. This will also lead to better in-home hard-wired networking, which is of course already being accomplished through Ethernet ports and such.

With wi-fi, of course, the networking thing might not be as obvious or necessary. But I can see the USB-for-charging ports becoming commonplace. Though part of me still thinks there’s an application here for those fools who went out and bought “Internet-ready” refrigerators and other kitchen appliances.

Of course, who needs a hard-wired fridge when you’ve got that little man in there to turn off the light?

Just One of Those Things

I recently decided to put a passcode on my iPod Touch because, well, it's kinda cool. Not that I have any deep secrets to hide, but I liked the idea of behing able to lock it from idle passersby (I'm sure there are ways around it, so it wouldn't keep out the determined individual).

Something about the design of the passcode page, however, nagged at me. It seemed really familiar.

Just this weekend, the familiarity hit me. Here's the passcode page.

And here are the two likeliest possible inspirations:

And that leads me to this: Enjoy.

 

Google Nonplussed, or, I'm Feeling Like A French Fry

So I'm on Google+.

And I'm thinking: Do I really have to be? Do I really have to start the whole Facebook thing over again? Because that's exactly what it is. Facebook, but from Google!

But I'm there. It's hip. It's groovy. I expect I'll be wasting enough time there soon enough. But I have to wonder: Is this going to be the battle of the Titans, because do I really need to go to three places now (Facbeook, Google+ and Twitter) to hang out with friends whom mostly I don't have? Need to, well, maybe. I kinda feel like this:

Funny thing is, I did join MySpace back in the day. Well, at least I signed up for it, in the context of a book I was writing. Neither MySpace nor the book have ever come to fruition for me. Not that I or the world am missing anything.

More Fembots

Hey, remember the Fembot Poetry from a few days ago? Hit more gold over the weekend. Here you go.

Comedy

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independent film

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You have ended my 4 day lengthy hunt!
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Hair straightening

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Hair straightening II

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BTW, in case you're wondering what a fembot is (and I'm old school, bypassing Austin Powers) here you go:

A Few Technological Predictions

Prediction One: I will have an iPad of my very own within a year.

This I know because after having the opportunity to play with my wife’s iPad over the past ten days, I note my iPod Touch is impossibly small. A bit of plankton in a sea now populated by tablet whales. Svelte whales, because my laptop is impossibly heavy. Do I really need new electronic devices? No. but I can see the iPad’s obvious utility, if only for the ability to watch movies on a slightly larger screen or to play “Ticket to Ride” without having to fuss with a mouse. (Yeah, I know I wrote a few weeks ago about you being able to take my mouse once you can pry it from my cold, dead hand, but the past ten days with that iPad has convinced me that I was, perhaps, wrong in that assessment.) Still don’t like the finger grease all over the screen, though. Maybe if someone invented a false fingertip . . . Oh yeah. They already did.

Prediction Two: My wife, building on the advance of her iPad, will have an iPhone or some kind of all-access-to-the-Internet device within two years.

The tightwad in both of us screams at this prediction, but the practicality of having such a device is eroding at our collective Scroogishness. I hope that by holding out for another year or two, we’ll see further technological advances that make this connectedness less expensive and – might I dare say this – not necessarily connected to an expensive sell phone contract. (I’m envisioning a nationwide network devoted solely to data, which could include voice-as-data services a la Skype, to get the cell phone companies’ fingers out of this pie. Of course, that’s just shifting the finger-in-pie from one collective of greedmeisters to another entirely new collective, but maybe along the way they might figure out how to make it less expensive. Oh, sometimes I just make myself laugh.

UPDATE: Today's Dilbert comic strip kinda fits in pretty well with this post:

Death of the Mouse?

So, according to TIME magazine’s Techland blog, the mouse is doomed.

Doomed, I say, doomed. Just – dare I say it – like these guys:

Because of Apple, of course. Everything that is dooming computer technology as we know it is either due to texting or Apple.

I’m a bit skeptical about all this touch technology they’re touting. You know, I like my iPod Touch. I like tapping on it, not having to have a keyboard or mouse attached to it. I like the pinching and other touchy-feely things I can do to manipulate text, games and such. To a point. Playing Galaga or Dig-Dug on these devices is crap. The games beg for a joystick. Maybe someday somebody will be able to wire an old Atari 2600 joystick to an iPod Touch, and I’ll play those games again. Don’t ask me to tilt the thing to get things to move. My geriatric brain – a match to the photo of the age-spotted hand Techland includes in their story – just doesn’t work that way.

I have a laptop that has a touchpad instead of a mouse. I don’t like it. When I type on the keyboard, my wrists brush against the touchpad and bad things happen. Now Apple wants to sell us something (surprise, surprise) called a Trackpad. Techland uses the word “magic” to describe the Trackpad. I’m not sure if they’re poking fun at Apple for their overuse of the word or just in awe of Apple’s overuse of the word. Doesn’t matter.

Jason Fox, I think, illustrates the pitfalls of changing from a simple directional pointing device like the mouse to anything more complex.

Though it’s inevitable, as Zits point out.

Okay, Apple. I’ll send you my wallet. Again.

Hey, You, Get Into the Cloud

See if you can wrap your head around this one. Because I can’t.

Apple is now offering the iCloud – a web-based service for storing our music, movies, photos, brain cells, whatever – in a way that’ll let us sync that content to up to ten devices, thus ridding the cumbersome and space-hogging method currently used, which is storing all of that stuff on our own hard drives and either having to create clunky playlists or do somersaults to log in as a different user in order to sync more than one iPod on one computer.

Sounds great, yes?

Well, wait until you read the fine print.

It’s free for up to 5 gig of music downloaded via iTunes. In other words, music you buy from the record labels via Apple. I have none of that. No, for schlubs like me who rip their music from CDs (I don’t steal it; get that out of your heads) the service costs $25 a year. Fair enough. Apple can’t exactly give away the storage space for free, you know.

This “iMatch” service also applies to storing illegally-obtained music, providing one volunteers to pay for it via iTunes for the privilege of storing it in the cloud.

This, of course, makes record execs ecstatic. So reports CNN, cobbling from Rolling Stone:

It is one way to make someone pay for music they've already bought. It's pretty ingenious," Syd Schwartz, a former EMI Music executive who is now a consultant to artist managers and record labels, tells Rolling Stone. "I'm sure someone in an executive office at a major label somewhere is going, 'At least that's one way we can monetize the stuff people stole from Napster over the years.'

And that’s fine, too. These people stealing music shouldn’t be allowed to use the service unless they’re willing to pay for what they’ve stolen. So guess what? They won’t use it.

And I won’t use it either. Not because I have any qualms on paying for music, but because I don’t want to pay someone else to store stuff I’ve already paid for when I can store it at home for free. Yes, the syncing remains clunky. But that’s a tradeoff I’m willing to make.

We bought a one-gig external hard drive for $89 a few years ago. It’s paying for itself just serving as a spot for us to store our digital photos. I haven’t bothered migrating music or movies over to it, simply because our collections of such aren’t large. Storing them in the cloud may make sense from the point of view of convenience, but not from the point of view of cost. Luckily, I have a Sony MP3 player that’ll sync with whatever computer I choose, so that makes the syncing simple. Only Apple seems to want to make it complicated.

But they’re not the only ones wanting lolly for the privilege. Google offers Google Music, free for a limited time. May check that out. Amazon offers its Cloud Drive, with 5 gig of free storage. We’ll have to see what restrictions apply.

Jared Newman, writing for PCWorld, is dismissive of Amazon’s service, mainly on the pricing, saying that “cloud storage isn’t quite ready to replace a trusty external hard drive.” Obviously I agree with that. I bought a computer with three gigs of internal memory, so storage isn’t all that much of a problem. Neither is lost files, since all of the music I enjoy comes from my physical music collection. Well, I have some freebie stuff and podcasts and the like that I don’t have on physical media, but if it were lost, I probably wouldn’t shed a lot of tears about it.

There are disadvantages to Google and Amazon’s products – no Apple device support, at least as far as I can tell. That seems odd, so I’m probably wrong, but what I’m reading says they’re Android-supporters only.

That leaves mSpot, which has free Android and iPhone apps – presumably, it works for the iPod Touch and iPad as well. But there’s another disadvantage – mSpot only supports one device for free, for up to five devices, ya gotta pay $3.99 a month (so on price, iCloud wins; mSpot comes in at close to twice iCloud’s cost per year). So for scum like me that want the freemium advantages with multiple device syncing, there’s nowhere to go. (See Ginny Mies’ comparison of the four services at PCWorld here.) I suppose you could game mSpot and set up multiple accounts on the free system, but I suspect they’ll have ways to counter such shenanigans. Further investigation is warranted.

Mmmmmm . . . Power Cords

Yeah, I'm livin' the dream. Or at least livin' the reality that our own little rat -- a miniature dachshund puppy named Dottie -- is emulating our dear Ratbert by chewing through our computer cables. Yes, my wife warned me that I'd better get things cleaned up. I did do some cable organization, but apparently the power cord to our router just proved too tempting. I tried to fix the cord last night with the little culprit sitting in my lap as I worked, but no. So we'll have to go out and buy a new one. Luckily I was able to wire Michelle's computer directly into the internet, bypassing the network, so she could do her homework last night. And also lucky we were that I had finished grading for the week in my English 101 class just before Dottie got the cable gnawed in half.

I still don't know how these puppies avoid electrocution -- of course, the router only pulls half an amp, but still you'd think it would make their gums tickle. Moki, our first doxie, only did this once. Maybe we'll be that lucky with Dottie. Though I'm not counting on it. Moki as a puppy wasn't a genius, and Dottie seems dumber than a bag of hammers.

Second Monitor Me

I was jealous a few weeks ago when Michelle got the mondo big monitor from her Dad. I could have lobbied for it, but she teased and figured I'd hog it. So I surprised her by hooking it up to her computer.

I had ulterior motives, of course. A few weeks after the new monitor came into the house, I ordered the little dongle I need to connect a second monitor to my computer. It arrived today and, contrary to popular belief, it was easy to set up. In fact, the only thing I had to do was tinker with the contrast on the second monitor to get it up to snuff. Now I sit in my secret lair. Bwuhahahahaha!

Farewell to the Caps Lock Key

This photo is in the public domain.

Slate.com has an interesting and thorough take on the history of the caps lock key, nestled just to the north of the left shift key on just about every keyboard in the world.

The crux of the article: Google, in introducing a new notebook computer, has replaced the caps lock key with a search key, acknowledging that the little-used key is just taking up space on the keyboard because of an archaic link to the venerable typewriter, from which, of course, the caps lock key originates.

Writer Christopher Beam sums up the caps lock key’s perseverance nicely:

So why has Caps Lock stuck around so long? The simplest explanation is technological inertia. Computer companies have long been obsessed with reverse compatibility, or the ability of any new product to support old software. People are more likely to buy a new computer, the thinking goes, if they can still access their old files and don't have to change their habits. As a result, computers have almost always been additive: more keys, more programs, more functions. That was the logic behind carrying over the Caps Lock key from typewriters to personal computers, and every new keyboard designer has probably thought the same thing: If it ain't broke, don't fix it.

Beam handily points out that the caps lock isn’t the only bit of history clinging to our keyboards. For example, I haven’t used the “function” keys since I had to give up WordPerfect back in 1993 – an anachronism Beam points out. Yes, I could learn many of the handy keyboard shortcuts (my boss is a big advocate of this). But until I can undo a Shift-F3 without having to go back in and insert capital letters where capital letters ought to be, I’ll do things the old-fashioned ways, thank you. Heck, I never even used the two function keys provided on my Tandy Color Computer 3, back in the late 1980s. He points out those keys and others, used frequently in DOS-based programs, just don’t serve a function outside the programming realm these days. But it all goes back to what’s been said thusfar about the caps lock key: If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

Some, of course, do. It’s been pointed out that the QWERTY keyboard layout is an even more annoying typewriter leftover, with the left hand doing more of the work just because more than a century ago some engineer had to figure out how to slow down the typists who were jamming the key bars together because they were typing too fast with a standard keyboard layout. Acolytes of the Dvorak keyboard point out their layout is much easier to use. Much easier, of course, if, like me, you didn’t learn to touch type on an electric typewriter with a QWERTY layout. So as far as that goes, my keyboard ain’t broke.

Some of the new keyboard buttons, I like. I love that I’ve got a mute and volume control right on the keyboard. A few others I’d like:

• CD/DVD eject button
• USB device eject button (that would bring up the menu so I can select which device to eject, rather than using the mouse, or simply eject the device if only one is detected)
• Browser open/close button. That’s what Google has done with its new keyboard. Good on them.

Don't Slip on This Peel

So the Peel is real.

I’m seriously thinking about buying one of these Sprint lovelies that will let me convert my 32 GB iPod Touch into something that resembles a smart phone. I’d like the ability to send my wife an e-mail or two or catch her on the phone (this device would let me make calls via Skype) while on the bus to and from work – Tuesday’s half-hour-late arrival home while she was at the bus stop waiting for me is a good reason why.

But I’m cheap.

It’s not the $80 outlay for the device, which slides right onto my iPod Touch. It’s the $30 a month for the 1 GB-limit data plan through Sprint to actually make the device work that’s making me balk. Now, as smartphones go, that’s a relatively reasonable monthly fee for what you get, but as we’re very used to not having a monthly charge for any telecommunications device outside our landline, I’m not sure I can justify the expense.

OK. I’m sure: I can’t justify it. It’s just not in the budget for the few times I might use the service. That’s $360 a year that could easily be funneled into something more constructive, such as paying down our mortgage or Michelle’s tuition – another installment of which we’ve got coming before the year is out.

Still, that’s just at half the monthly cost for an iPhone. Or any other fancy-pants smartphone. This could be may way in.

So I’ll put it in the maybe pile, the pile perhaps I can dig into if I eventually get at teaching gig at BYU-Idaho, part-time. If I kept the data use manageable, I could justify using a Peel to keep up on my teaching duties while on the bus, so I’ll keep that in mind. It would allow me to use dead time in a much more productive way, especially as the Peel also – theoretically – can act as a wi-fi router, so I could use my laptop to communicate with my students through this little device.

So we’ll see what happens.

Memory Lane: Tiny Talkers

NOTE: Found a copy of a very, well, dumb story I wrote about twelve or thirteen years ago. This is another writerly trick: Find something you wrote a long time ago and hope against hope that your writing style has improved. Gratefully, I think I have. Anyway, here's the story: "Tiny Talkers." Has that Twilighty Zone feel a lot of my early stories had, for some reason.

"Don't forget to flush please. And sir - you're low on phosphates."

Being from the old school, Bernie wasn't used to having urinals talk at him. Frankly, he didn't like it. Not one bit. Bernie's the kind of guy who was still shocked to see diaper changing tables in the men's room, and he certainly avoided those out-of-the-way spots where restricted space called for unisex bathrooms. "Certain things are just meant to be silent," he said often to those around him who weren't plugged in to transistor symphonies or listening to their Twinkies tell the tale of just how their filling got to be where it was while they ate them.

Cigarettes. He stopped smoking three years ago, only two months after legislation required cigarette manufacturers to put Tiny Talkers in each cigarette, rattling off the surgeon general' s warning each time a smoker took a puff.

The pressure monitor on his right front tire wailed at him so loudly and so often he finally stopped on the expressway and smashed the control box - which whined pitifully under his blows - with a hatchet he stored under the seat. Even the belt on his wrinkled beige overcoat burbled at him in a sing-song voice, mainly telling him with each cinch his waist was growing.

Interactive, they called it. The latest rage. Some Vietnamese flunky for an Oregon computer firm developed a system so streamlined, so small and so cheap little talking bits of silicon were embedded in everything from apple blossoms (from which they called enticingly to bees with what they hoped were encouraging words) to those Do Not Remove Under Penalty of Law tags on mattresses. Big Macs told you how slobberingly juicy they were as you chewed on the pickle and dabbed secret sauce from your chin with a napkin. Breakfast cereals gave you five minute countdowns to your preset Sog Quotient so never again would your morning be spoiled by eating soggy cereal. Minuscule weather stations planted in a stalk of scalp hair gave temperature, UV factor, relative humidity and dandruff count at the press of a button. Melons screamed their state of ripeness, books shouted blurbs from their back covers. The newest item, talking toilet paper, well, Bernie didn't even want to know.

You couldn't even count on a daily paper to be silent any more. Even when you'd succumbed to their siren calls from the newsstands, the blankety-blank things wouldn't shut up.

Bernie feared the crossword puzzles which with exasperation told you the words if you erased too often. Garfield, through some odd aberration of science and copyright law, had Bill Clinton's voice, and though the drawl was often amusing when Garfield told Jon why he refused to chase mice, he found it a bit disconcerting to hear a former president's voice coming from an orange cat who kicked that banana-shaped dog off tables.

"Did you hear this in the paper, dear?" Sheila, Bernie's wife, squeezed a spot on the front page and Bernie heard all about an anti-terrorist raid on a besieged embassy in Koala Lampur as he struggled to eat his morning grapefruit.

Bernie dropped his spoon. "Yes, dear, I listened to that story while you were in the shower talking to your soap. Pass the sugar."

"Whoa, fat stuff, that coffee's already got three scoops!"

"Why do I have the talking mug again? I thought I told you to get rid of it." Bernie poured his coffee down the sink and rinsed the mug, which cooed appreciatively at the cool water.

"I forgot, Bernie," Sheila said. "Besides, you heard your trench coat. You are getting a bit more portly."

"Hmnph." Bernie shoved his spoon into his grapefruit and sent juice flying.

"That grapefruit's not ripe."

Bernie slurped at his spoon. "Whaddaya mean, not ripe? Any more ripe and it'd be rotten."

"Are you talking to me, dear?"

"Who else is in the room, Sheila?"

"Well, there's Dolores. Looks like you got her right between the eyes."

"Who?"

"Dolores Castella. The paper's new home and food columnist. Here." Sheila handed Bernie the paper stained with grapefruit juice. One blob had indeed smacked the chubby Dolores right between the eyes.

"No, not ripe at all," said Dolores from the printed page. Bernie wasn't sure, but he thought he saw her blink. "But it's a California grapefruit, which of course means they can be eaten a little under-ripe."

"This woman," Bernie said, poking his finger through Dolores' soggy face, "is a twit."

"Come now, Bernie," Sheila cooed. "You just met her. Some people just leave a bad first impression."

"Just met her? I squirted grapefruit juice on her picture!"

"Well there you go, Bernie. It was you who got off on the wrong foot."

"Feh," Bernie said as his cereal gave the two minute warning. "Tell me one thing," he said, through mouthfuls of not-yet-soggy cereal, "why do these papers think this talking thing is such a great gimmick? I mean, if I wanna hear the news, I'll turn on the radio. And if! want health advice, I'd listen to my trench coat over some fat food columnist any day."

"Lulu the polar bear has fattened up nicely after her harrowing trip to the Tautphaus Park Zoo last month."

"What," Bernie asked, milk dripping down his chin, "does Lulu the polar bear have to do with what we're talking about?"

"Oh," Sheila said. "Sorry. I was hearing this article about the zoo."

Bernie ate more cereal.

"Bernie! You cheater! You're drinking two percent milk instead of the skim Dr. Bartlett told you to."

"That's enough." Bernie shoved a fork in his beard and ripped out the Fallen Food Detector Dr. Bartlett had installed. He tossed it on the table and continued eating. "You shouldn't have done that, Bernie. Health insurance won't pay to have that reinstalled."

Bernie's eyes bugged as Dr. Bartlett, whose picture he'd hit with his discarded medical device, lectured him from the front page of the newspaper.

"Give me that paper!" Bernie lunged form his seat, knocking the chair over and sending his grapefruit spoon sailing. With one swoop he gathered the paper from the table top, and snatched the comics from Sheila's hands. Tiny voices cried from within the mass of paper he crumpled in his hands as he stalked through the living room toward the fireplace.

"Seventeen people died when a train jumped the tracks near Jura in the French Alps..."

"Bronko Nagurski's genetic clone, drafted by the Green Bay Packers, promised fans he'd do for them what he'd done for them fifty years earlier: play good football."

"Lost, 6 month-old black lab puppy. Answers to name of Stinky."

Bernie wadded the paper into a tight ball and tossed it into the fireplace. The voices within screamed shrilly as the match took and the paper began to burn. "You should have recycled me! Recycle me! The forest creatures will thank you!"

Firelight danced in reflection on Bernie's glasses.

"The flue's closed, idiot."

Bernie jabbed the flue sensor with a poker and sat silent and watchful as the flames died down.

Kip, of course, would have a different reaction to Tiny Talkers entirely:

BYU-I Podcast

The big assignment this week for our certification was to make a post a podcast introducing ourselves and our class. So here's mine:

I did not use the suggested software -- it was just not what I was used to, not as powerful as I'd hoped (at least for what I wanted to do) and the fact that I can't record very good sound on my computer is also a problem. You don't know what you need to do until you can't do it, you know?