I’m walking around laughing at the gigantic fuss, furor, and scandal over the latest invasion of our privacy. I think this months villain is Microsoft. Last month it was someone else. Government? Corporations? Amazon? Google? They are all spying on us. You knew that, right?

So last night, when we were nicely tucked into the most comfortable bed in the world, I said to Garry:

newspaper1“Can you think of any government anywhere, or any time in the history of humankind, during which governments have not spied on their citizens or subjects?”

He honored me with a thoughtful few seconds before answering … or maybe he was just twiddling with the remote control.


“I think the way it works is this. First, we invent heads of state. Kings, presidents, emperors, whatever. Next, they invent a secret police so they can keep on being the head of state. The only thing that seems to change is the technology. And the quality of the dungeons.”


72-Alien Computer_03

“I think it’s a mistake to try and monitor all those emails and phone calls. I mean, they are just going to be buried under data. Lots of jabbering kids yakking with friends, people arguing with customer support, and boring conversations by people like us. We never say anything interesting on the phone. We hardly talk on the phone at all. Our email is pretty dull too.


black and white wires power lines

Americans have an ongoing need to be outraged about something. We require a constant level of civic hysteria, maybe to keep from being boring. Scandal keeps ratings up and gives talk show hosts something to joke about. It gives liberals and conservatives something to accuse each other of doing, even though every administration has done pretty much the same stuff and always will.

I’m wondering how long this is going to stay on top of the news. It has been years … at least five so far and I see no end to it. Apparently it never gets old.


Nothing will change. Governments spy on citizens. Citizens are outraged. The outrage is ignored. Eventually, everyone moves on — until it pops up again.

I’m having trouble getting myself worked up over this.

I remember Richard Nixon. I even remember J. Edgar Hoover. I’ve read history. I know traffic cameras track us. If anyone is looking for me — or you — I’m sure they’ll have no trouble finding us.


My government spies on me. Corporations spy on me. Everyone collects my personal information and uses without my permission. That’s the price I pay for being connected and computerized.

They were spying on us during the 1960s, albeit less efficiently. They were spying on my parents and their friends in the 50s and 40s.

Obama didn’t start this. Bush didn’t start it. FDR didn’t start it. Abraham Lincoln didn’t start it. It’s been going on as long as there have been governments and it will never end.


I had one of Those Days yesterday. I got up feeling pretty good. A bright, sunny day suggested I might want to take a few pictures. I went to open the window … and the shade did a cartoon thing, snapping itself all the way up and curling tightly around the wooden roller. When I tried to unroll it, it fell down and landed in a heap at my feet.

I should have taken that as a sign, but I shrugged it off. Just an old shade to replace No biggie. Thus the day progressed through some electrical? Software? glitch which deleted all my saved emails addressed to me from me. All the saved information carefully put in labeled folders … trashed. Thank you Google! At least you didn’t erase them. You have to be grateful for what didn’t happen. Keeps things in perspective.


I was still  working on sorting out the mess at midnight when the WiFi went out. We recently replaced the router and since then — about two months — haven’t had a minute of trouble with it.

I sighed. “Guess I’ve got to reboot the router,” I told Garry, who was deep into deciding what to record on the DVR and had problems of his own. I rebooted the router. Came back, but still no WiFi. Went back, did it again, and realized the modem looked unhappy. The lights were blinking, not emitting the steady, solid green glow I have come to associate with a happy, healthy modem. I unplugged it, counted slowly to 25, plugged it back in. Nope.

On a whim, I looked at the telephone. “No line,” it announced. The green light was out.

Charter Communications was down.

I couldn’t call on the phone since the phone runs on the WiFi that we didn’t have. I found Garry’s cell phone, looked up Charter’s number in my paper notebook. After the last few fiascos when I couldn’t get to my contacts because they are online and there was no “online” to get to, I’ve gone retro. I keep a notebook with handwritten contact numbers. The electric company. Charter. My doctor. The two pharmacies. The septic guy. The well guy. My best friend. My cardiologist. Our dentist.

I called Charter. Got the robot. I shouted my answers into the phone, probably waking all the people in the house, but not disturbing the dogs. They are never bothered by whatever mom is doing when she has that thing in her hand. It’s not edible, so it isn’t their concern.

An announcement came. “There’s an outage in your area that might be affecting your service. We assure you we are working as fast as we can to resolve the problem. Would you like us to call you when the issue is resolved? Say “yes” or “no.”

“YES,” I shouted.

“Is there anything else with which we could help you?”

“NO,” I yelled.

They started to babble on about something else, but I’d had enough and disconnected. Closed my computer. Turned out the lights. Went into the bedroom where Garry was settling down to watch something recorded using the big Sennheiser earphones.

“It’s Charter,” I shouted. He didn’t have his hearing aids in.



“Good old Charter,” he said.

I started to laugh and couldn’t stop. “They won,” I said between laughs. “They beat me. Charter. Google. Everything. They can break things faster than I can fix them.”

“Give up,” advised Garry. “Tomorrow …”

“Is another day,” I finished. But I kept laughing until I fell asleep. I had been defeated. Just one of those days. Thank you Charter. Thank you Google. Thank you for reminding me I can’t fix everything and sometimes, the only thing left to do is throw your hands in the air and surrender.



happy birthday from google

The weirdest and funniest “happy birthday” of the day? I opened Google after midnight and there was a picture of a birthday cake and other goodies. So I said to myself, I wonder who else’s birthday it is?

When I hovered the cursor, it said (still does) “Happy birthday, Marilyn.” I think it must only work on my computer, but that’s the picture.

How do they do that? It’s kind of spooky, but cute! I know it’s software, but still … out of the millions of people using Google, how do they know to make that header show up on my computers?

Isn’t technology grand?


Two years of blogging: February 4, 2014

So I was sitting here, watching one of the last Jay Leno Tonight Shows and suddenly it came to me. I thought “I must be approaching my blogging anniversary.” So I went to look it up, which turned to be more difficult than I expected.

Finally, I went to the trophy thingie on WordPress and saw that I had an anniversary icon … dated today.

It’s exactly the same as my one year icon. Identical. Be that as it may … it’s been a mad, mad, mad, mad, mad, mad couple of years:

  • 126,000 hits
  • 1,927 posts
  • 1,677 blog followers — not including followers via Twitter, Facebook, Tumbler, Google and comments.

My top post in terms of hits is still that odd post about the TV show, Criminal Minds. It scored a whopping 10,135 hits, something I don’t think I’ll match. It was a fluke that Google put me on the top of their search engine for that show. You can read it and wonder — along with me — why in the world it was so popular: The FBI can’t do a simple Google search?

I finally got Freshly Pressed. It was a lovely surprise, especially since I didn’t expect it. After all that blogging without having gotten the nod, I didn’t think it would ever happen. Never say never. You can read about it in HOLY EXPLETIVE! I AM FRESHLY PRESSED! and WRITING FOR THE RIGHT REASONS. The post that did it was most uncharacteristic of my usual stuff — by far the creepiest thing I ever wrote: GONZO GEORDIE HAD AN AX.

I posted at least once per day for all of last year, not counting that unfortunate week on Cape Cod when I had no WiFi.

Thanks to all of you who’ve been my faithful friends and to all my new friends. I hope we can all celebrate when the next anniversary rolls around!

HARRIET TUBMAN (1820 – 1913)

98f/41/hgmp/12611/mp306From Google, this is dedicated to Harriet Tubman, Activist, humanitarian, African-American abolitionist, humanitarian, and Union spy during the American Civil War. (See Wikipedia for more.)

She was born in 1820 in Dorchester County, MD and died on March 10, 1913, in Auburn, NY. Married to Nelson Davis (1869-1888) and John Tubman (1844-1851), she had one daughter, Gertie Davies. She was the child of Harriet Greene and Ben Ross.

There is a huge amount of information about Harriet Tubman available in libraries and across the Internet. Today is the first days of African-American History month. Google Harriet Tubman to find out wonderful things you will love to know.

Not all heroes wear uniforms.


Not every day yields a bonanza of weirdness. but there has been a small epidemic recently. Today we have two winners!

gonzo xxx water sake

sake2me-all-four-products-black-bg-MASTER-TNI wrote a post with the word GONZO in the title … as did anyone else who responded to that writing challenge … so why did this one come to me in particular? And what might an XXX WATER SAKE be? It’s the XXX that has me most concerned. Clearly this water sake is one bad sake. Not “for heaven’s sake,” surely. And not the sake you drink with sushi at a Japanese restaurant because that sake is yummy in the tummy.

This is a lurid and evil sake, perhaps a spirit sake, dangerous to ones soul. I can but speculate on the nature of XXX water sakes and what they have to do with me. It’s not right, them creeping up on me this way.

And then there is … (trumpets, short drumroll) …

doleful porn tube

I am willing to take suggestions. I’m clueless. Three little words, connected only in the bizarre mind of some Internet searcher. Porn? Maybe, though I don’t think this site even rates a PG, much less as “porn” of any kind — though if you put it together with the XXX water sake, you might have something going there …

Tube? Porn tube? An x-rated tube? Like … inner tube? Highly inner tubish?

inner tube

Stay tuned for more. Peculiar things lurk in cyber-space and they converge at Serendipity — the website where you can be as strange as you want because nothing surprises me. Maybe I shouldn’t say that.


Seriously — who are these people and how did those searches land them on my site?


pic of sick face

What does this mean? Picture of a sick face? What do you mean by sick? And why did it end up here, on Serendipity? Who are you calling sick?

googleexcerpts from unxead pool

All I can say is huh? What? No idea what this means. Oh, wait. I bet it’s The Undead Pool, the new book by Kim Harrison coming out next month. I’m looking forward to it … but surely this search should have taken them to Kim Harrison’s blog or Amazon? Why me?

Doesn’t the inability to spell the title disqualify the search?

wyatt earp clothing

I swear I have never written anything about Wyatt Earp’s clothing. I mentioned his gun I think. A long time ago. In context of a review of Tombstone. But I never said a word about his pants. Or any other article of clothing.

So was it the gun you think?