Frustration, Inanimate Objects!

This is laughable. Coincidence? I had THIS entry(or one like it), complete, and it just faded away. Monitor said, ‘disk error’, AND then message and post faded…. GONE!

Do you  ever get frustrated and take it out on an inanimate object? i.e. Kick a flat tire, curse a worn screw driver or throw something. Maybe a ball point pen that skips at the WRONG TIME?

Okay, that is the point, the WRONG or WORST TIME to break.  QUESTION JACK, is there a RIGHT time?

              

YES! I think a washing machine ‘knows it is going to stop.’  So at 10 am on Wednesday it should announce, “Hey out there, since I am not going to be used until Saturday morning, my timer is going out, this would be a good time to replace it, when I am not needed.”

I am sure you do not talk to ‘things’, but I seem to have developed that habit. Leaving Maine the other day, we hit a LOT of Heavy Rain. We were on the 2 lane Hwy #16 in New Hampshire when I noticed the driver’s wiper was tangled with the hose that supplies the wiper cleaning fluid. Then I noticed the blade was slipping down out of it’s locks and the top metal was beginning to hit the glass. This can permanently scar a windshield.

Fortunately I found a pull off. While in the rain putting an underway patch on the wiper I asked, “Couldn’t you find a better time?” Thru the rain I heard it laughing.

“EXCUSE ME SIR, but you paid no attention to me when I called out to you a couple  days ago when the sun was shining to tell you I thought the lower metal piece was fatigued and would give-way soon.” Rain continues, so does the wiper, “I have also been dodging that little hose for a year. ‘OUCH,’ now you are squeezing with piers and tightening that string around my belly, I can hardly breathe, but I will not stop completely, I will work but that string won’t last forever, you remember that when the sun comes out again.”  And under its breath I heard “dummy”.

           

This is such an appropriate entry for us. Sherry just came in frustrated with her new contact lenses. “I must have them in the wrong eye, this is frustrating.”  (I couldn’t help myself, I smiled)

“Can’t be, those are the only eyes you have.” (not cool, but she laughed!)

Thanks for sticking with me. This is not the one I lost, but close.

Nite Shipslog

PS:

Frustration is not new. Remember the guy Moses? Throwing down the tablets he had in his hands, “A GOLDEN CALF!, ARE Y’ALL CRAZY?”

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Today’s vehicle, appropriate. (water, water every where, nor a drop to drink!)

(that is a fleet side Chevy truck 60-70 era methinks.)

The dangers of using a GPS

Quick entry. If we miss commenting, we have a terrible connection here.  We cannot load any videos, everything locks up. it takes 5 minutes at times to read an e-mail.

For those who asked. we are fine the bad weather missed us, but hurt a lot of folks in Mass.

(Sorry about the abbr. of Massachusetts the old one sticks! I imagine there are some who do not know many states had abbr. that were changed.) 

Our friend Paula calls it ‘The lady in the box’ because of the verbal instructions that come out of it.  Since I cannot hear the sound is turned off.

I mentioned the other day that I was using the GPS when we came into New York. Normally we will take the last exit in PA and go thru Port Jarvis, but the GPS suggested Exit 1 in New York. There was a lot of road construction and a little confusing in Pennsylvania so I opted to follow the lady in the box. The last instruction I followed was turn right on Maple St. as soon as I made the turn I saw a notice: TUNNEL.. NINE FOOT CLEARANCE. (of course the GPS does not know how tall we are) Thankfully there was a right turn into a residential area so I took it, and requested the navigator get us out of this mess. She did.

(I have this address from a long time back I hope it is still a good address)…Now if you have time, here is what happens when the clearance is too low:

http://www.prochan.com/embed?f=e53_1351184775 

Following the GPS once in Kentucky, I was directed down a farm path, but refused and called for assistance.

A couple years ago I made the mistake of following it and went thru the edge of NYC!

In Lenoir once, it sent me into a residential driveway. So usually I check my directions before starting a new trip. This time I did not check well enough….

Some of the errors are my fault, some the mapping system that calls for roads that never were completed.

The GPS is a good thing ‘MOST’ of the time, as with a lot of technology.

Have you ever been misdirected using your GPS.

Nite shipslog

PS:

Take advice with a grain of salt (what ever that means) even your GPS!

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The above are 1942 cars. Production was halted in 1942 to build supplies for the War. Production resumed in 1946.

Dumbing down?

(We are in Sturbridge, MA. Terrible cell signal, I hope this gets on)
I make notes when I think I have an idea for a blog. I noticed a survey where high School kids were asked to name two of the great lakes, and a good percentage could not, and could not identify where they were.
Some could not give the Revolutionary war combative nations.
I hear cursive writing will no longer be taught in school.
Now I ask, are those items important to the existence of this country?  I ask because I honestly do not know.

I see my girl and Shirl worring about ‘secretarial skills’ they were taught, but are ignored in the world today.  English is a very confusing language, I see Your, you’re and yore confused all the time in young written conversations. Then there is There, Their and They’re, butchered by college grads.

But I must ask myself, how important is this? I do not know.  As a high School Drop out myself, I sure cannot judge. In the BIG SCREEN of life, is it a deal killer.

Something in me says YES, but the other part of me ( that is lost on modern technology), knows my grand kids can teach me a lot. Yes  my Great grand kids could teach me a lot (If I would let them).

I actually think some of these kids can do more words a minute with their thumbs, than our typist used to with both hands. (they combine typing and short hand, I guess like a court recorder)
Then I say, maybe it is me who is dumb in a NEW world. Who knew that one day, when a phone rang three people would not run to it to see if it was for them; that someone would reach into their pocket, look at it, know it was Bill or Carolyn five states over, and they would call them back later.

Yes, the younger generation has dumbed down from my standards, BUT I am DUMB IN their generation. I am A square peg looking at nothing but round holes.

I sat once on the trail in a rain, shielded from the rain by a poncho, looking at a phone on ‘Camera’ and not knowing how to get it off so I could text my Sherry. A young lady was nice enough to touch the right spot and say, “There you are sir.”

(and the one that says it all!)
I sat there thinking, I have been called a genius by my generation, and cannot even handle a smarter than me phone! WHO IS DUMB?
DO NOT EVEN ASK ME.
Nite Shipslog
PS:

I can hear the attendant in the nursing home now, “Come on sir, time to take your meds and go to beddy bye!”
There are times being assigned the job of handling world affairs is tough!

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And I will say to the attendant “kid, if you only knew the fun I had in my 1948 Chevy……She was maroon and……ZZZZZZZZZZZ”

I love driving but there are EXCEPTIONS!

I do not like paying tolls and of course the RV towing a car pays much more than the single passenger car (which is logical).  That is not my major complaint. In the last few years each state has come up with the EZ TOLL codes that allows the state to deduct the cost automatically from an account or your debit card. I understand that and the necessity of speeding up the toll paying problems by residents, it is great for them.

(Look at all the distracting symbols and signs)

MY PROBLEM IS “which lane to get in?” I have yet to get into the wrong lane, but I have come close.  It is clearly marked for the regular travelers but each state seems to be just a little different.

(I can understand the simple ones)

I must amend that. When I first started driving an RV (the small one), I really blew it at a BOSTON TUNNEL!  I pulled up to the toll booth and all of a sudden the operator was VERY UPSET. “You are not going thru the tunnel you have an LP tank.”

“What am I to do?”

“I have no idea, but you are not proceeding and you are blocking traffic!” I put the RV in Reverse and started easing back.

“STOP! What are you doing?”

I figured it was obvious I must turn around. “Turning around.”

Disgustingly, “Hold on,” and he walked back and made some room.

Having never been in Boston before I made the mistake of asking, “Which way do I go?”

Again sarcastically, “I don’t know, but you are not going thru the tunnel.”

Sherry directed me out of there. I realized later I should have known, and I even understand the operators frustration, but I dislike RUDE!

From that experience I dread toll booths.

I received a ticket in the mail from a toll road in Orlando.  From a time when I was lost and exited where it was EZ FLORIDA TOLLS only. I had not seen the sign and of course I could not find a place to deposit the toll, so I drove on thru, I sure could not back up. 

(I don’t want to end up like this!)

Maybe one day, before we stop traveling there will be a national Toll EZ thingee and I will not have to worry as much.

Thanks for stopping by the LOG.

Nite Shipslog

PS:

I realize Tolls are a coming thing. There is even talk of a toll road in the Charlotte/Belmont/Gastonia area of NC.

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My old 1950 Chevy 1/4 ton pickup (before and after)

Of course the AT is a small part of Maine

On our visit to Rumford and Mexico, Maine this is some of what we saw. Located in the foothills of the White Mountains, Rumford is the site of Pennacook Falls, called by historian George J. Varney "the grandest cataract in New England," where the Androscoggin River drops 177 feet  over solid granite. When I first saw this I thought this was man made.

Now look farther back and see yet another waterfall or cataract.

A natural beauty I am glad I stopped to see.

The Cataract for years generated power for the paper company that these logs are headed for.

New England is fiercely patriotic, one of the memorials here in the Rumsford/Mexico area.

Then on down to Scarbourgh (called Down East by the Maniers).

We stopped by to see friend Judy and took her out to Lunch.

She and her husband Al (now deceased) used to own the Brown box Pie company in the Bar harbor area. She is now using her talents to assist her granddaughter on a trip to Ireland. Here she is giving Sherry a Strawberry/rhubarb pie.

Son Scott and his wife, the sign below is in their front yard….

He is a Maine Lobsterman.

Judy knows we love Lobsta, as we talked with Scott & family Judy fixed us FOUR ‘one pound’ lobsta’s to bring home. DELICIOUS with fresh corn.

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Sherry caught this sunset and church on our way home.

An end to a beautiful day.  In my mind, it seems that every place we travel is more beautiful than the last.

Thanks for coming along.

Nite Shipslog

PS:

We always try to learn as much as possible from friends and family who are left alone after losing a loving mate.  We are not morbid, but know percentages show that one of us will eventually be left. Life is not going to change for us. We will try to use our time wisely.

We have learned a lot from you guys who have experienced the BIG loss. Hey, one of you sweeties are having a birthday soon.

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Trail final…

There is a lot more to say, but it would be sorta repetitious.  Trail names are an important part of the legacy of the trail. I probably saw/met/passed 15 hikers this time and only got three names (and no pictures of them).  with my hearing the way it is, I become embarrassed and just will not ask the third time.  But many from the past jump to my mind. some have pictures.

(Papa Smurf, just finishing the White Mountains)

The names I did get were ‘Survival Man’. He appeared to be in his mid 50’s.  He has lived in South America for many years and recently moved back here. He said he had lived in a small 12x16’ house all that time and loved it. Mostly he lived off the land. Thus the name, ‘Survival Man’. He was thru hiking and had started at Springer Mt. Georgia the first of March this year.  To be here this near the end, shows he is making good time.

Friend Fred, in his hammock in the 100 mile wilderness

Next I met was ‘Bird man’. His story of the AT was much like mine and Sherry’s.  He completed about 1800 miles a couple years ago but his knees did give out on him. He is now 67. Eight months ago he had both knees replaced at the same time. He is over joyed with the way things have worked, he has not had one minutes trouble and is hiking well.  So he has come back to finish the trail as I was going to do.

The  ‘BirdMan’ was a heavy equipment operator. He had a lot of tales, and I enjoyed them all when I could understand them. Most of his time was in rock Quarries all over the USA.  He is  from Chattanooga, TN.

This little lady was called Cricket, she was starting the 100 mile wilderness 2009, solo.

Then there was “A-Bomb”, the young man who ‘fist’ bumped me when he asked how old I was and I said 75. He is a SOBO (AT terminology for South Bound Hiker), he plans to do the whole trail before Christmas going south.

The last day four young ladies passed me at different times,  going North, to finish their thru hike. They looked 15, so they were probably in their 20’s         ().  The one thing that has amazed and interested me is the BIG variety of hikers on the trail, especially seeing young girls and older women who are carrying packs and hiking alone.

Professor Gordon in one of the trail lean-to’s, Mark gave him the trail name of “Gordie”

Many hikers are over 60, they have now achieved the financing or retired so they have the free time to hit the trail.

Of course I will think of the trail and may do some day hikes, but in reality I had better stick to writing for my adventures.  I did come up with a seed for a new book. Time will tell if it germinates.

Thanks for joining me.

Nite Shipslog

PS:

Our rough plans are a couple weeks in Mass, a week or two in Eastern Pennsylvania, a couple weeks in Virginia near the Chesapeake then to Eastern NC for a week or so.

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Plymouth Street rod we passed for sale. $22,000. not a true classic but still beautiful. It is shaved (No hinges, door or boot handles) with Chevy engine, etc . No year was given.

So I tried to match it with web pictures. I know it is less than a 1939:

1937 on left and 1938 on right. I still do not know which, but I am favoring the 1938.