-at the end of the day- Blog

Gabby

noreply@blogger.com (Distorteddogma) — Sat, 31 Dec 2022 02:16:00 +0000

Pictured above is Gabby and her "sister" Luna playing their favorite fishing game on my wife's tablet. I put sisters in quotation marks because they are not blood kin, but rather are the last of my wife's brood of nine cats. Luna was a Tuxedo and Gabby, a black Burmese.

We lost Luna to a heart attack a few years ago. Luna adopted me as her human as soon as she met me. She was my first cat master. I was a dog kinda guy before her.

Gabby, when I met her, was the cat that didn't speak. She would move her mouth, but nothing came out, unless it was 2 AM in the morning. Then she would find a toy and walk around the living room yowling at the top of her lungs.

Both cats belonged to my wife. But Gabby was HER cat and Sue was Gabby's human. I have already told the story of how Sue and I found each other again after 48 years, were both single, got together and after a couple of years, got married.

Gabby and Luna came with us when Sue moved to Phoenix Arizona. And Gabby alone came when we moved to Windsock Ranch. She stayed with Sue just as she always had. Beneath her feet in the kitchen, sharing her chair while watching TV, and cuddled close at bed time. If Sue got up in the middle of the night, so did Gabby, her four legged shadow for more than fourteen years.

Somewhere along the way Gabby found her voice again. Whatever trauma had caused her to stop speaking before Sue adopted her from Pets-mart was forgotten while living with us at the ranch.

Happy cat.

Gabby was struck down the day after Christmas by unknown medical causes. We found her alone, here under my desk, unconscious, but breathing. She was not responsive, and lasted but 3 hours before finally passing.

Gabby, the cat that didn't speak, who was my wife's closest friend and confidant was silent again. And, it may be cliche, but her silence is deafening.

Be Well

When Cancer Comes for Christmas (2021)

noreply@blogger.com (Distorteddogma) — Thu, 10 Nov 2022 06:08:00 +0000

In August of 2021, my wife Sue had set up an appointment with a new pulmonologist. I had been having some breathing problems since we had moved from Phoenix and were living at about 3000 feet higher altitude. The first meeting went well and a CT scan and some breathing tests were prescribed for the following week.

The tests turned out as expected. I have what appears to be a touch of Emphysema and COPD. Neither is a new diagnosis. There was however a surprise on the CT scan that required a different doctor and a more in depth scan. An unusual lump on my left kidney.

I'd never had any issue with my kidneys. This was a new wrinkle. A battery of urology and blood tests, including MRI with contrast, were ordered by my new Urologist. By the time I got to Tucson to meet the Urologist it was already November.

Surgery. Definitely surgery. Everyone was 98% sure it was cancer. Good news? It was smaller than a golf ball and the surgery could be done laparoscopically, by a robot. Well a controlled robot.

It's all the rage you know.

The only question is when. Before or after the holidays.

My wife, Sue, and I agreed. "Get it out. Sooner the better," we said.

The soonest available time was early December.

The time comes and we drive back to Tucson and check in for surgery and what was expected to be one or two days, if all went well.

It did. Better than expected, so far as the cancer... there was none. Just a really ugly benign growth that fooled everybody. So could I go home now?

Nope. I fell into the clutches of the "Respiratory Guys", who didn't like the way I breath. Not long enough, not deep enough, not fast enough, not slow enough, "you're a big guy... you should be able to suck that ball to the top and hold it there for two days..." there were three of them and they traveled together, always together... "do you ever need oxygen at home or at work? "

"No... and I'm retired. It says so on that paper you're holding."

"So you had a desk job," they asked.

"No... I was an electrical rigger at a live theatrical venue. I climb into special scaffolding, suspended steel pipes and girders or grids and install special lighting fixtures for theatrical productions and rock and roll shows."

Combined gasp! "And you don't carry oxygen? Do you have an aspirator?"

"Nope. Never needed one. Can I go home now?"

"Well, your oxygen level drops below 90% several times an hour and that has us concerned."

"Maybe I don't need that much all the time. I've been laying in this bed for five days. Is this somehow connected to the surgery?"

"Oh, no. But we may have just caught something."

"Look," I said, "I'm newly retired. I've been taking it easy for a while. I'll admit I'm a bit out of shape, but I just bought a small ranch and I'm sure once we get into the swing of working it, all this will even out."

Two days later I got them to agree that if I make an appointment for a follow-up, and get a Nebulizer machine for home treatments. (it's still in the box).

So I'm home. Four to five weeks of no lifting and I'm back to being busy. It was a scare, but I'm glad this year we were one short for Christmas. Best gift I've gotten in years.

noreply@blogger.com (Distorteddogma) — Sun, 02 Jan 2022 22:55:00 +0000

I haven't posted on here for quite some time. I know this is not a reason to awaken Walter Cronkite from his forever resting place, my contributions to this blog could be generously described as sparse.

That is not how I intended it to be as I created and recreated and re-recreated it over the years. Each blog iteration enjoying a burst of activity and then a slide to obscurity in my daily mental cycle.

I must say that this time has been the strangest as there are tails that I really truly believe I had written and posted that are conspicuous by their absence in the list of stories.

We've been living here at the Windsock Ranch for very nearly a year. We intend to celebrate the anniversary on January 2nd 2022 as the day we got the keys and dropped our first load of belongings in the house. That's four days from now.

There are lots of stories that happened in the past year. Underground water pipes bursting, our 22 acres of desert greening in the first rain after a 3 year drought, my eldest son came to live with us on the ranch permanently, new flooring in several rooms of the house, electrical repairs, door repairs, and roofing adventures not unexpected in a 30 plus year old adobe house in the Sonoran desert.

Many of these were documented and supposed to end up in videos on our ranch YouTube channel. That too did not happen.

The biggest story has yet to be documented in words or videos just came to a conclusion last week. Its a story that will get its own entry here. The next entry. It through our entire household into disarray.

But today is a marker of its own. Today is the one year anniversary of the start of our move into the house and the naming of the "Windsock Ranch Arizona."

And we're awfully glad we're here.

"One good rain makes up for 1000 sprinklings"

noreply@blogger.com (Distorteddogma) — Sun, 08 Aug 2021 07:00:00 +0000

Dry Dry Dry

Our pecan orchard has had a hard life. Originally planted as a project for a youth farming group by the previous owner when she was very young, I'm told that there was some sixty trees at one time.

Sadly, the project ended and over the years the trees were neglected and about 30 have been removed. The family did not care about the pecans that were produced and allowed the neighbors to come in and pick their fill.

I talked with the former renter and he did not irrigate the trees at all during the driest year on record last year.

As I said about 30 trees still remain. With a lot of work, my son and I have repairs the old PVC pipe buries about 24 inches under the dry desert soil and most of the trees leafed up to show that they were still alive. Even the grass was very sparse.

But no amount of irrigation was going to bring them all back. Welcome June and July. By my measurement (using a Walmart rain gauge) we received about 5 1/4 inches of rain. Nearly 2 inches of that was during a single storm.

As the photo below illustrates, the trees and the grass are now thriving. I'm planning to discourage any fruit (nuts) this season and perhaps the next. The trees need to get hearty before we can expect a harvest. Even a small one.


Orchard in the rain

But everything is growing. So much so we had no choice but to go out and buy a riding lawn mower. Trimming weeds and grass which had previously taken me just an hour or two with a weed wacker before, now takes 2-3 hours with a 46 inch riding mower. But now we are cutting about 4 acres in the orchard and around the house keeping the desert at bay. A full 50 feet away from any structures.

We know that this rain will eventually come to an end, and all that green will turn brown. We are in the desert after all, and in the late summer and fall deserts tend to dry and burn. Keeping all that green in check will keep the house, workshops, and orchard safe.

As for the rest of the 22 acres, that is a different story.

Be Well.

Pecans by the bushel, some day...

noreply@blogger.com (Distorteddogma) — Fri, 07 May 2021 01:50:00 +0000

When we bought our property, now referred to as Windsock Ranch Arizona ( I actually had to register the name) it came with a little orchard. 28 trees are standing, but they have not all produced leaves as yet.

Pecan trees.

I was never much for Pecans. Not on cakes or in candy, and in very rare situations pie. Pecan pie. A southern dish as sweet as any candy I have ever tasted.

How do you care for 28 pecan trees? I don't know.

How much water? Not a clue.

How much and what kind of fertilizer? At a complete loss.

How do you keep bugs off organically, birds away, keep the gophers out? I don't know.. shotguns?

As a farmer with an orchard, I'm a good woodworker.

I can tell you that they don't even bud leaves without water much less nuts. So the orchard needs irrigation of some kind. The orchard came with no instructions. None for the care of the trees, and none for the plumbing.

Little things like: Where are the pipes? How do they work? How old are they?

These things are important to the operation of an orchard, I would guess. I don't see myself watering an orchard, even one with only 28 trees, with a garden hose.

Up until 3 weeks ago, the orchard lay bare. not a leaf nor even a bud to be found. We've had no appreciable rain in the four months that we have lived here. Snow? Yup, about a 1/8th of an inch. Hail? Lots of that too, but you would be surprised at how little water there is in a coating of hail. Rain? Officially about .04 of an inch.

Now there is one other pecan tree that is the last of an orchard that was on the other side of the house. Its current neighbors are some version of mulberry trees. The mulberry trees, I was used too as I had four of a slightly different variety in Phoenix, needed water. So I bought a couple hundred feet of drip hose and gave them a soaking. The pecan tree, as well as two other mystery trees nearby got watered by virtue of their close proximity to the mulberry trees.

A week after the first water application, everything had leaves and buds. Including the pecan tree. This worried me for the still naked orchard. So I took what I thought would be an afternoon and seriously investigated the orchard irrigation system. I found the main valve in the orchard and two branch valves. One had froze the past winter and shattered. The other seemed to be working.

So I turned on the main. The broken valve sprayed all over bu I managed to get it under control temporarily. The secondary valve to the east trees opened and sent water to the two eastern rows of trees.

As I walked the rows I found that there was a 3/4 inch feed line that led to a "bubbler" head at the base of each tree. About half worked, some of the rest did not until I messed with them a bit. Two others were small geyzers shooting water up a for or so. The water ran about an hour while I took stock of the parts I thought I needed. But after that first water run, those first two rows were budding.

All toll, the four rows of trees cost about $300 in 3/4 and 1/2 inch PVC parts and almost week with me digging up burst pipes and replacing "bubbler" heads. The earth in the orchard, like most of the ranch, is very clay heavy. Muddy and sticky to dig once wet. Tools and parts are quickly caked in clay slowing daily progress and as the pressure increased from repaired pipes, new leaks appeared. But except for the last leak, its done. Late in the season, now all four rows have leaves. Not all the trees, but most.

I know the system I fixed is wrong for trees. I know I'll have to make changes this fall when the trees go dormant again. And I'm pretty sure that there will be few if any pecans this fall due to the late start.

But next year we're going to have to have a plan for a couple of bushels of pecans.

Be well.

Not the weather I was expecting

noreply@blogger.com (Distorteddogma) — Sun, 04 Apr 2021 06:39:00 +0000

When we moved from Phoenix to southern Arizona, we knew that there was a difference in elevation of a couple of thousand feet but it was southern Arizona, not Nevada.

The video above is of the THIRD hail storm in one day, each larger stones than the one before and thunder to boot.

No Sir, not what I expected.

Be Well

They don't go "Meep!, Meep!"

noreply@blogger.com (Distorteddogma) — Mon, 15 Mar 2021 06:39:00 +0000

Elmer

After we arrived at Windsock Ranch, that first day with our dreams and our trucks full of stuff packed over the course of two years or more, we dismounted and had a look around.

I soon realized that this was the first time I was really looking at the property. The trip from Phoenix was all of five hours. If you believe the computer driven maps of any brand, you will note, that depending on the time of day they report any where from 3 hours and 15 minutes to 3 hours and 45 minutes trip time.

I am here to tell you that the machine making such a prediction is not driving a bouncy 26 foot truck and is not controlled by a 66 year old set of kidneys and bladder.

Its five hours. Trust me.

The trips we made down here prior to our purchase were pretty rushed on the ranch. We came with lists of things to ask about, see, test, photograph, and measure. But more than 2-1/2 hours on the ground and it quickly became a test of mine and my wife's driving fortitude with a 15+ hour round trip day.

So this was my first time with less pressure. The sun was going down soon and we would spend our first night in a relatively empty house, unpack the truck in the morning, and head back for another load tomorrow.

I was walking about the main house when I spotted this fellow. This is Elmer. He is , based on distant observation, a grown roadrunner. A Greater Road Runner, specifically. I assumed a male as I believe no self respecting female would choose such a ridiculous perch. He is actually perched five feet off the ground with his butt pressed up to the glass window, tail pointing to the sky.

My son, my wife and I found this a curious, but fascinating posture and let him be for the night. He seemed to take no notice of us what so ever.

The previous owner, nor the tenant had any knowledge of the bird and he was gone by daylight.

We continued our trips north and south several more times and each time, just before sundown our little roadrunner would be on the window ledge. Always the same window and never seen coming or going. He never so much as turned his head to watch us scurrying about with armloads of boxes and bags in the dwindling sunlight.

And so it went on. Weeks into months, sundown until sunup, our little good luck omen (as my son called him) stood his nightly vigil at our window.

Even though no one observed his arrival nor departure, I began to admire his choice of windows. That particular window is exposed to sunlight from dawn to dusk. It is completely surrounded by burnt adobe brick, warmed all day by his arrival, and his corner is most often on the lee side of the wind. The glass on the exterior is perforated with a hole the size of a BB and so the double pane insulation has escaped allowing the heat from the house to warm the outer glass. I don't know how he discovered this particular spot, but as window seats go; this was a gem.

I came to calling him Elmer, much to my wife's amusement, for no particular reason. I would pass him with armloads of trash headed for the dumpster nearly every sundown. And I became accustomed to addressing him, "Hello Elmer" As I passed. He remained as stoic as ever, never acknowledging my greeting nor my passing. He never even blinked when one night I pulled out my phone and snapped this picture of him crouching against the wind.

One of the chores remaining for the previous owner was to replace the septic drainage field. The work was to be completed before we moved in, but was delayed due to weather. I didn't mind much because that put me here to observe the project.

For Elmer on the other hand, it was the last straw. One evening it would have been time for him to arrive and the driveway was filled with pump trucks, crews milling around, and a backhoe still digging noisily in the yard until dark. This was obviously too much. After months of putting up with our comings and goings at all hours of the day and night, he did not occupy his spot at the window that night.

Nor has he returned. If I would have guessed my time with him was limited, I would have put more effort into acquiring a professional like portrait of our first boarder.

The ranch has many such daily and nightly guests. We're getting to know them all. The two pair of jack rabbits, two pair of white winged doves, several pairs of cactus wrens, a complete city of gophers, loggerhead strikes, an owl or two that hoot all night long, and a hive of honey bees under one of the storage sheds- which have been very passive, but have to go.

All of these and more greet me in the morning and evening coming oddly close at times for wild critters.

But I miss Elmer and his aloof but watchful eye outside my window as I slept at night.

Goodnight Elmer

Be Well.

My World is Changing

noreply@blogger.com (Distorteddogma) — Mon, 11 Jan 2021 07:29:00 +0000

This last year, 2020, has been a rampage of changes for everyone on the planet. But mine has also changed in a different way.

It all started two years ago September, or three years ago this coming September, if you prefer. I was standing in the Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport awaiting the arrival of my high school sweetheart. My palms were sweaty, I had infringed on a stranger to use my phone to video the meeting with my phone, and I stood at the top of the landing with a cup of her favorite coffee, and a tiny ring.

Then, forty-eight years after we met, the following March we made it official

Now it's a year and a half later (give or take) and we're making another big move.

We've sold our house in Phoenix and bought a 22 acre ranch in Southern Arizona.

Together, my wife Sue, myself, my eldest son, resident deer, road runners, and javelina - soon to be joined by an unknown commodity of dogs, cats, chickens, milking goats, honey bees and perhaps a donkey named "Kevin", will share this little property in southern Arizona to be known, from this day forward, as

'Windsock Ranch."

This will also change this Blog to "Tales from Windsock Ranch."

Afraid of Socialism? You already live with it!

noreply@blogger.com (Distorteddogma) — Mon, 07 Dec 2020 03:13:00 +0000

I have marveled at the recent wave of fear of the radical left "introducing" the threat of socialistic programs into the United States. This has come to a head with talk of the "one payer health initiative" or "Medicare For All" or socialized healthcare.

Whatever you choose to call it, it is the proposal of a government run healthcare system. Leaving aside the fact that Medicare and Medicaid have been around for years and you're paying into them with every paycheck.

I don't understand the new implicit fear surrounding the word socialism. The United State has utilized socialistic programs for years, perhaps since before the actual beginning of the United States.

Anti-socialistic commenters seem to feel that socialism is automatically tied to communism or Marxism, which I suppose it could be if we chose to do that, but like I said socialism has been at work in the United States happily co-existing with democracy and capitalism since the beginning.

Perhaps the place to start is the actual definition of socialism;

The Google definition reads:

"so·cial·ism
/ˈsōSHəˌlizəm/
noun
a political and economic theory of social organization which advocates that the means of production, distribution, and exchange should be owned or regulated by the community as a whole."

In a second definition it goes on to describe the Marxist version of socialism. Which everyone appears to be afraid of. But every definition of a word does not apply to every use of that word.

Take the word "BOMB" for example. It is defined as a container filled with explosives constructed to do damage. (The bomb detonated and destroyed the building). But it also means a bad movie or show. (That film bombed at the box office). But it also means an outstanding person or thing. (She is really the bomb).

You could not mix or confuse those definitions without completely changing the subject or perhaps causing harm or injury. If she was the BOMB did she see a bad movie and blowup the theater?

The idea that social medicine would lead to the end of choice or the end of democracy itself is just as ridiculous. The United States is one of the few modern countries that has not embraced the idea of socialized medicine. Right now the UK leader Boris Johnson is trying to introduce the United States version of medical treatment such as private heath insurance to replace the National Health Service (NHS) because of issues involving BREXIT, and the British people are up in arms.

If you think that socialism is a concept that should be used "never in America", I have a shock for you:

The Public School system; Some 130,930 elementary and secondary schools in the United States, paid for by taxes by all to be affordable and usable by all at little or no cost (the latter because some Charter schools do charge for some services).

Public roadways and bridges; Paid for by taxes by all all to serve the uses by all. The alternate would be paid for use otherwise known as privately owned "TOLL" roads. Imagine if the ownership of roads changed every mile or so. Come to the end of your street and pitch a quarter into the basket. Then do it again every mile or so along your morning commute.

Police and fire departments; Again paid for by taxes and not subscriptions. There was a time that if you did not subscribe to a particular fire service, they would arrive and watch your house burn to the ground and sometimes even interfere with your subscription fire service because they were the competition. (And yes that actually happened).

All public systems and buildings; City Halls, Court Houses, Museums, parks, sports stadiums, theaters, roads, bridges, schools, street lights, sewers, clean water, all the things that you enjoy that receive local, state and federal tax dollars collected from everyone and spent for everyone.

That's Socialism. The group providing for the welfare of the group. Sharing the cost, sharing the benefits.

Lawmakers have started to reverse some of these social costs calling them tax saving measures. Federal parks and forest areas which used to be free for everyone to enjoy, now carry fees and even memberships to pay the shortfall due to reduced tax support. And those fees are rising.

And you may not remember, but public and "community" colleges used to be free except for your personal supplies. Now they are only the beginning of your student debt.

Imagine all of these public works projects and systems now pay for use at full cost and your problems if you don't have the cash.

That's capitalism. You use it, I don't, you pay for it. Every private business works that way. The price you pay includes the entire overhead, salaries, and profits of that company.

I'm not a crazy communistic socialist. There are lots of things that need to be run on capitalism rather than by the state and we pay for the use.

But I don't think healthcare is one. Any system that can charge you over a thousand dollars a month for health insurance that doesn't kick in until you've paid out $4 -5000.00 in deductibles can hardly be called efficient or even functionally sustainable.

And that brings me to cost. The popular argument seems to be that everyone's taxes will go up to pay for Medicare for all. That is right. They will. But you will no longer be paying the health insurance company premiums. That's the trade off.

I paid into Social Security, Medicare and Medicaid for the entire 54 years of my working life. I retired from my city job at age 60 to move back to a private sector job and my health insurance ran me $900.00 per month. That's just covering me.

When I turned 65 I was eligible for Medicare and my rates are now less than $300.00 a month, and for much better coverage. But that still only covers me. I paid in, but the money was used for someone else. Now someone else is paying in for me. Medicare, Medicaid, and Social Security all work like this already.

There are plenty of examples in the world where Socialized Medicine is working, affordably, medically sound, clean, and free for all. In Canada, you are covered in an emergency even if you are just visiting from another country and never paid a dime into the system.

There are a lot of arguments about how the system would or should work, and most of them are outside the scope of my tirade here, but don't let the politicians use the word Socialism to scare you out of the conversation. Remember some of their biggest donors are heath companies that like the rates you are paying now.

Socialism is just a word, and you are surrounded by it and enjoying the benefits of it already.

And the next time you chip in for that pizza with your pals? Your being a socialist!

Stamp Out Trump and save the USPS

noreply@blogger.com (Distorteddogma) — Fri, 14 Aug 2020 08:32:00 +0000

The USPS is running in a deficit, Trump is holding it hostage to control the election. Perhaps this may help.

Licensed Music better that copyright lawsuits?

noreply@blogger.com (Distorteddogma) — Tue, 04 Aug 2020 22:56:00 +0000

Now this may be just my ignorance of how the music industry works showing, but bare with me.

I just watched a video which told me that Tom Waits employs sixty (60) or more people to search YouTube for channels that had uploaded videos using the sound tracks of any of his songs. When found, they immediately file a copyright claim and or a take down notice of the offending video. And he is not alone. For the vast majority of video creators, a copy lawsuit is a waist of time as there is no money there to recover.

Is it me or does this seem counter productive to anybody (everybody) else?

If you have ever looked into licensing a song through BMI, ASCAP, Marmoset, SESAC, SOCAN or any other media licensing company, you will have found the cost can run into the hundreds or even thousands of dollars. There are a confusing medley of different licensees for variable circumstances. And the complex fee schedule varies as well, which obviously puts the music out of the reach of all but a few tip of the top YouTubers, who only want to share their favorite music.

With approximately 86000 new videos added per day and 60 people searching? I would say that your group are trying to stop an army of ants with a magnifying glass on a partly cloudy day. And I'm not suggesting let it all go free. After all, music has value. What I am suggesting is making it cheap and easy for video content makers to get a one time license for a video. It could go as easy as this.

Users create a social media account on, lets say, a special BMI website (this does not exist, its just an example). The account might contain the users personal information and contact info. Click on a new license form and fill it out, click pay and the site would spit out a one-use license in a PDF for print or email. The license contains the license number (an encoded version of the video description provided by the applicant) and the composer credit text that must appear in the video (end credits) and/or in any extended text description section available on the particular platform.

In order to make and keep this non-transferable social media license valid, the following information would be entered for registration: The date of application, the single upload web site (ie YouTube, Vemo, twitter, whatever), the account or channel name, the name of the video, the song you are licensing, if its the original track or a cover performance, your current follower/friend/subscriber count (more on this later), if your video will be monetized, and your expected publishing date. The License would permanently cover THAT one song on THAT video uploaded on THAT site on THAT channel. Additional uploads or songs would require their own license. IE one (1) song on one (1) video uploaded to YouTube and Twitter = 2 uploads = 2 licenses. Or five (5) songs on one (1) video on one (1) upload on YouTube = five (5) licenses.

License costs would be on a sliding scale (below based on one (1) song, one (1) video, one (1) upload);

$5.00 US - all non-monetized videos regardless of subscriber count.

$10.00 US - monetized video with less than 100,000 subscribers/followers

$25.00 US - monetized video with more than 100,000 subscribers/followers

Seems pretty cheap. But is it? YouTube alone gets about 80,000 hours of new uploads a day. According to Quora.com, the average length of a video on YouTube is less than 5 minutes. That comes out to about 86400 videos a day. If you low ball the figure and say only 10 percent of those bought a $5.00 license, that comes to $43,200 a day. That's per DAY and that only includes the $5.00, non-monetized, video license.

How much are your artists making on those uploads now? Oh, that's right your paying 60 people at 40 hours a week to police just YouTube. And I'm sure there are lawyer costs mixed up in there somewhere (there always are).

The cheap price is the key. Affordable by everyone. The license code makes checking against a database easy. The text credits make publicity for the music that is being paid for by the licensee, and its easy to check the video license validity. Now for a few bucks content creators can avoid video take downs, copyright strikes, all the bad stuff. Who wouldn't do that?

With proper announcements the site would be flooded with applicants. At the very least it would pay for its own operation, policing, and royalties. And since take downs don't make money, instead point creators to the licensing site where they could buy a license and get their video creation restored.

This is not an original idea. There are already sites on the internet that license music for uses like YouTube. But at $14-150 dollars a pop for unknown artists, their percentage of uses on videos is limited. To my thinking, the value here is volume. Getting a great rep and building that 10 percent to 40-50-60 percent licensed with a large and happy repeat user base.

So as I said at the start, I'm not a professional musician. I'm not an executive responsible for collecting royalties. I'm not paying 60 people a day to make me no money and spread animosity about my brand by doing take downs on YouTube. But even I would stop using free Creative Commons music in my videos if for five or ten bucks each a I could use popular music.

Be Well.

Making a cheap two stage dust collector!

noreply@blogger.com (Distorteddogma) — Fri, 24 Jul 2020 03:54:00 +0000

This just published and "JUST" being the keyword. It took over a year to get all the parts filmed and then refilmed after a stupid brain fart that had me formatting the wrong disk and erasing the second half of the build.

So all grousing aside, here it is. Be Well.

Good-bye to a not-so-old friend

noreply@blogger.com (Distorteddogma) — Wed, 01 Jul 2020 23:56:00 +0000

Not so very long ago, I was presented with a gift of a computer tablet. But this was not just any tablet it was a new Microsoft "SURFACE". More than just a tablet, it ran WINDOWS RT, had a removable keyboard (of sorts), a magnificent screen in a similar aspect ratio as a laptop monitor, and 16 gigabytes of RAM.

Windows RT was a new and experimental version of the Windows operating system. It had the look and "feel" of a Windows platform, it had a touch-me screen, but also a rubber coated keyboard covered with little squares with letters and numbers silk screened on them. Imagine the joy of opening the box and seeing the safety film coated screen. The charger was connected with a magnetic (cant buy one of these anywhere) coupler, that fell off anytime you brushed against it or one of the dogs walked past wagging their tails.

But it was new, experimental, and most important... it was a gift.

I had no idea what to do with it.

You see Windows RT looked like Windows, but it came with a few restrictions. You needed a Microsoft account to turn it on. It came with abridged, albeit free, versions of MS Office and Internet Explorer. And your Microsoft account got you into the Microsoft store where you could download approved software. Some for free, some cost money which they made easy by constantly asking you for a credit card to keep safely on file for your convenience.

But there was a hook. If the software you wanted to run was not not approved or not specifically designed for the new ARM chip-set, you would politely be told that it would not run on this computer. I'm sure it was Microsoft ecstasy. NO Firefox, no Google Chrome, Opera, no professional photo editing programs, drawing programs, CAD, no major games, no competition. Your only bidirectional window to the outside world was Internet Explorer and the store.

Imagine Microsoft's surprise when it didn't sell well.

Then hope came on the horizon. Microsoft was going to port Windows 8 to the Surface computers. But it was all dashed as the Windows 8 version was crippled the same as RT had been. No unauthorized software and no incentive for companies to port their programs to operate with the ARM chip-set. Even the eventual upgrade to Windows 8.1 changed nothing.

Imagine Microsoft's surprise when it still didn't sell well.

So NOW what do I do with it?

Perhaps it was too slow? MS came out with a version 2, but it was just the same. Although thousands of us now owned versions one and two of this experimental device, Microsoft decided to cut and run. So for the past few years we have gotten just the legally required security updates.

There are a lot of smart people on the internet. As time went by, some of them found ways to crack or bypass the lock that held our poor Surface tablets in chains. But one by one, update by update the vindictive minds at Microsoft changed the keys to the locks and shut them down.

While all this was going on, I paid little attention. My personal animosity toward Microsoft goes way, way back. All the way to Windows with Work Groups. I was not "afraid" that they (Microsoft) were going to screw us... I was sure of it. (That history is for another blog)

Once the keyboard stopped working, and what few programs I was using loaded its storage with so much crap that I eventually reset the whole machine back to factory once or twice, I just gave up. But I didn't stop using my little tablet. I found its niche. I took it into my work shop. Because it had no fans, it was more or less impervious to the sawdust and dirt that woodworking creates and spreads all over regardless of the amount of dust collection you install. I set it up on my workbench and clicked on Internet Explorer (IE) and found my way to YouTube.

At YouTube and searching the internet, the Surface excelled. Over time the WiFi connection became a little slow. But then they gave us an upgrade from IE 10 to IE 11 and that helped for a bit.

But Surface worked fine to help me find parts I needed, keeping me abreast of my favorite YouTubers, and that marvelous screen gave me a wide angle, full-screen view that I didn't need my glasses to watch.

And then it started. YouTube and other web sites started warning me that I needed to upgrade my web browser. They would stop supporting it "soon". For the past six months I scoured the Microsoft web site about possible updates. For a while there was a rumor of a special version of Windows 10 in the offing to save my little tablet. But the word officially finally came out:

"Microsoft has officially abandoned any plans for further upgrades for the Surface 1 and 2. "

As I expected. They finally got me. It took 5 years... I'm Microsoft screwed again.

On July 1st 2020, Internet Explorer 11 finally effectively ceased to function on YouTube and most everywhere else. If I wanted to wait for 15 to 20 minutes for each video to load, I can still see them. The "upgrade your browser" warnings are gone. My little tablet is finally a paper weight.

So NOW what do I do with it?

It was a good little computer, betrayed by it's creators. For want of a browser, it could have lived on for years. I'll pack it up in a box and stuff it in some crevice in the house for my children to find after I'm gone. They can open the box and look at the little Surface and its wide screen and tape covered power connector and marvel;

"What the hell did he keep this for?"

Life Interrupted

noreply@blogger.com (Distorteddogma) — Sat, 30 May 2020 00:46:00 +0000

I had it all planned. My Social Security was two months away, I would work until June or July, build up a little extra money in the bank, and then retire. I had my woodworking workshop nearly finished and would, perhaps even turn a couple of bucks selling stuff I made.

My wife, of just over a year, had her side planned. Chickens, milking goats, gardening and all the fun that goes with them. Fresh produce, milk, cheeses, and blue egger chickens, and perhaps later, honey bees.

We have been looking for a place in the southern part of Arizona. Phoenix has become too hot and congested. Sierra Vista. Cooler weather (relatively), cheaper (also relatively), and lots of ranchettes. We've been looking for a place with 4 -10 acres, a workshop, a guest house, preferably on the power grid.

Making our house in Phoenix ready for sale to maximize the market price has been problematic since the arrival of the pandemic. However, the economic impact of "stay at home" does not seem to have affected the estimated value of the property thus far. Our local big and little box store hours of operation and availability of materials has been a crapshoot for a couple of months.

Additionally, the "stay at home" order came post-layoff for myself and my brother and sister stagehands as theatrical, exhibition, concert, television, and film work canceled or otherwise screeched to a halt weeks before. The one poor advantage was to put me on the unemployment rolls a few days earlier than most other people. Small dispensation at best. I don't care how much federally assisted unemployment is, how much stimulus they throw at me, I'd rather be working.

I used to say "After I retire, I'll be keeping my schedule as much as possible. Taking care of animals. Working in my woodshop. Making Youtube videos. Marketing, budgeting, purchasing, and all the ranch work." I would go on to say, "I know exactly when that magic word "retire" is going to engage down to the day."

But now with the shutdown, who knows.

How has the shutdown affected your plans?

Be Well.

Nothing is constant but change

noreply@blogger.com (Distorteddogma) — Thu, 09 Apr 2020 23:29:00 +0000

Okay, so its a colloquialism and it's kind of quaint. But truer words were never said, at least in my life. especially in the last 3 years.

In the past few years I was divorced, my sons grew up and moved out, I retired from one job and was fired from another, I remodeled my house, refound and married my high school sweetheart, worked as a stagehand, rediscovered my love of creating and woodworking, and now I'm planning to retire again - to a farm and workshop in the south of my state.

I don't know how your life has been, but that seems busy even without the details.

This is a kick-restart to this blog and a new chapter in my life. To adventure!

Be Well and take care of those you love in this time of great sacrifice and pandemic trials.

I Used To Blog Here

noreply@blogger.com (Distorteddogma) — Tue, 13 Jun 2017 04:35:00 +0000

When you start a blog like this, or at least when I started this blog, I was filled with ideas. This was going to be the best blog ever. Anyone who read it would be awestruck by my wordsmithing, tickled by my turn of phrase, and laughing out loud at my humor and dry wit.

Not exactly what happened.

It started at the old Yahoo blog site, even before it became 360 and was finally destroyed by changes and censorship with an overactive moderating system. A fine community of writers and artist grew there. Poets, artists, photographers, bloggers, and people like me, still trying to find my voice.

All of a sudden everything had to be written so as not to unduly harm the sensitive mind of a child who just might get access. My part of the site was supposed to be 18 and over. The answer that came was that some kid had logged in on his parent's account and saw “dirty pictures”.

There were no “dirty pictures” there as art. Great art. Contemporary, new, even cutting edge, but it was art. As a test I posted something classical such as the La Fornarina by Raphael pictured above. When it was removed by the moderator, I was done.

And I came here. But there was a problem with here. The missing community. It might have been me. I might have been too lazy to start all over again. But I did a few posts and went about commenting on other blogs to introduce myself, but unlike the community, at Yahoo (360 by then) there were little to no views and nearly no comments. No interest.

It was about that time I found animation. What I mean is I began creating animations and posting them on Youtube. I tried posting them here as well, as links to my Youtube pages. That went on for a while.

Life happens and I dropped away from Youtube and about everywhere else in late 2012.

So now after a few false starts, perhaps this one will do it. I turn 63 in a few days and it's time for me to slow down and think about what I want to be when I grow up.

So s my 36th blog here (my age backward, huh.) I'm posting this with no promises, not even to myself. I have oodles to say, but most are history, and I'm done (I hope) commiserating over the past. I have an idea of what may be next, but it's still too early to say.

So I'll just leave it at, “Hello”.

Can you make a Thanksgiving at a restaurant?

noreply@blogger.com (Distorteddogma) — Fri, 29 Nov 2013 08:18:00 +0000

It may be a silly thought. I’m sure that people do make a happy Thanksgiving at restaurants every year. And probably have for as long as there have been restaurants and Thanksgiving.

In my case, I have been luckier. Ever since before I was born, my family has held Thanksgiving dinner at home. For the past 59 years, at my mothers home. Sometimes it was just a few of us, other times there were tables set up all over the house. But it was always at my mother’s house.

And although this delighted me, it was not always a hit with my former wives. But still it was tradition that reached back into my past much farther than they did. And I was inflexible.

Other holidays have fallen. Mother’s day, Easter, and last year even Christmas, all home cooked meals that were outsourced, not to carry in, but to dine out. I didn’t complain. I realized that if I was in my late 50’s that put my mother in her early 80’s. Cleaning and cooking for holidays is hard work. It doesn’t matter if it’s for five or thirty family and a dozen or so strays and their families that my mother would befriend and, for a day, make them feel as at home and as much a part of the family as I did.

We all pitched in to help cook and prepare. But it just got to be too much. So one at a time the holidays fell. But no matter what happened I still had Thanksgiving.

Until today.

Now I realize that thanksgiving is celebrated across the United States. And everybody SAYS that it is a day to reflect on friends and family and the few or many gifts life had bestowed on you. People SAY that, but I felt it. I didn’t realize just how much I felt it until my Mother told me about two weeks ago that she and my youngest brother were looking for a restaurant to make thanksgiving reservations.

I smiled. I don’t know why I smiled. I certainly didn’t feel like smiling, I felt like running around the room like a spoiled three year old, smashing thing indiscriminately and screaming “No, no, no, no, no!!! “

But I smiled. I offered other alternative and the discussion was long, but in the end fruitless. Today my mother, my brothers, our sons, and even a new great grandson ate thanksgiving dinner… out.

It took me a while to wrap my head around it. And I am not a good enough actor to hide my displeasure in the entire affair. We had eaten many meals at this particular restaurant before and the food had always been good.

Today I didn’t like a bite of it. However, I couldn’t tell you if it was any good. I didn’t taste it. I did my best to make light of everything that I was hating, but I’m not sure I fooled anyone. It wasn’t a tantrum, It wasn’t moping. My thanksgiving was broken and I was realizing that it wasn’t the food.

Since I was nine or so, my brothers and I had been living in a true matriarchy. My mother was the head of the family. You just didn’t say no, because you never wanted to disappoint her. My middle brother traveled from across country to see her. His eldest son and my eldest son brought their families from states away to see her too. And my mother was now eighty-three.

The three hundred pound gorilla sitting in my lap was not about loosing a home cooked meal. It was about loosing my mother and perhaps my family. Would we still gather in years to come after my mother was gone. Or would we, like so many other families be relegated to seeing each other only during some five or ten year reunion.

These are questions to which I have no answer. I cannot answer. It’s not just up to me.

So the next gathering is Christmas. And we will be eating out. But my attitude will be different. I won’t be secretly grousing about the food. Because the food won’t matter. The place will not matter. Only holding my family close for as long as I can will matter. And marking every moment we share together.

And that will matter most.

Be Well.

The New Look and New Name

noreply@blogger.com (Distorteddogma) — Sun, 10 Nov 2013 07:14:00 +0000

Saguaro Cactus, Mesquite and Turpentine bushes

So I figured that it was time that I stop lying to myself (not about anything important), but about this Blog. It was never going to be any kind of serious discussion of animation. Thus far there is hardly any reference to animation at all.

So as Google again changed the format of Blogger, I thought it was a good time to change the format of my Blog as well.

I have no idea what I'm doing, but that never stopped me before.

The background picture is my first lie. Titled "backyard" or something, it's actually about a mile or so north of my house. If you'd like to see more, just Google "phoenix mountain preserve saguaro" and select images. They are outrageous cactus and grow in a very limited area. I intend to change the picture occasionally if I get out with my camera.

If you are reading this Blog and you are not ON Blogger, then you probably are not seeing the pictures anyway.

The only thing I regret about changing the Blog is that I lost the pendulum clock that told visitors the time in Arizona, which doesn't change (we don't need no stinking daylight savings). I miss the ticking and the chimes on the hour and half hour. It was a nice reminder of just how much time I was wasting. But I cannot seem to get Blogger to accept the gadget again.

As for the entries, they will be whatever comes to mind, I suppose. I have no great plan. No mission. And no agenda.

I hope these changes find you well. And I hope you stop by the Blog, the real one...
http://distorteddogma.blogspot.com/ and leave me a reply or comment.

I'm also working on some new cartoons for my YouTube channel http://www.youtube.com/user/distorteddogma

So, enough. Time to move on to something more interesting. Whatever that will be.

Be Well.

Always remember that you are absolutely unique. Just like everyone else. -Margaret Mead

noreply@blogger.com (Distorteddogma) — Sat, 02 Nov 2013 07:38:00 +0000

Just random...

Yup, its real. 4 leaves.

Everyday, I am amazed how Arizona drivers demonstrate their inability to grasp the concept of merging traffic. It's "I go,then you go." What's so hard about that?

How can the burgers be "Fresh Flame Broiled" if the damn broiler machine is never on? Or does it beep like a microwave oven... Teenie tiny flame broilers. The great big one must just be for show.

I told you those damn computer storage "clouds" weren't secure. Now the NSA has copies of all your naked "selfies".

I text you when it's something I want you to read at your convenience. Not while you're driving.
I email you to give you the details that are too long and involved to text.
I call you to apologize for not texting or emailing you.
I don't tweet. It's just silly.

Does anyone really think that "liquid smoke" makes anything taste better? It just gives me the "liquid smoke" burps the rest of the day.

After having been married and divorced twice, I was asked if I would ever marry again. I suppose the person was insinuating the "third time's a charm" rule. My answer is no, I don't think so. instead, every 10 years or so, I'm just going to put half of my stuff out on the curb. At least that way I get to pick what goes.

Windows 8 = Windows ME you can touch.

Why is it that my cable company only agreed to lower my monthly bill AFTER I cancelled my cable? Really! I had done everything to keep my bill below $100 a month until I finally didn't have enough left to make it worth keeping. NOW I get emails and snail mail adverts telling me how inexpensive my cable would be if I came back... Too late. I invested in a TV antenna and a ROKU.

I just set up a ROTH IRA on one of the trading sites and I'm looking at the stocks I can invest in on the market. Perhaps someone can explain to me why the stock price of General Motors ( a company that had to be bailed out by the federal government or go bankrupt) is nearly twice that of the Ford Motor Company that remain solvent and needed no bailout during the entire financial crisis? Do these people really believe that GM learned anything? Or do they just think that they haven't lost enough money in the markets.

This is the time of year when I have to find five things to give up so I can have my eggnog and brandy at bedtime and not gain weight... *sigh*

My veterinarian closed or moved or something. Anyway he's gone and I had to put my 16 1/2 year old dog down after she had a stroke followed by a seizure the next day. I contacted a local pet hospital that came very well recommended. They were very nice and patient and took care of all the grizzly details after I sat with my dog and watched her pass. My problem is, now they are sending me discount dog healthcare coupons... ?

Enough for now. Be Well.

Haunting Halloweens

noreply@blogger.com (Distorteddogma) — Thu, 31 Oct 2013 04:34:00 +0000

The 2002 entrance to the haunted tent

When I was younger, about 1973- 75, I devoted months of my life to a Haunted House in Willowick Ohio. It was put on by the JC organization and staffed by volunteers. Admission was $1, half that if you were under 12.

Times have changed. Now to enter haunted houses can be as much as $20.

Halloween was always a big thing for me. Later it was dressing up my own house with all kinds of figures and lights, spiders, webs, skulls, and carved pumpkins everywhere.

When my youngest son was in grade school, they had a fund raiser
Halloween party. Every year I did something for them. Usually some kind of entrance to the tent they used, just to set the mood. (see the photo above)

Now my participation is simpler. I put out a few decorations and pass out treats to whomever comes to the door. Part of me misses the "big deal" of it all, but then I see the little face of a first time trick-or-treater. The awe and wonder of getting all dressed up and going house to house, seeing all the strangers and getting sweet treats...

..and I'm young and happy again.

May the Great Pumpkin bestow happiness upon your little pumpkin patch.

Be Well.

Taking No Hostages...

noreply@blogger.com (Distorteddogma) — Wed, 30 Oct 2013 04:34:00 +0000

So I have been absent for over a year and a half, partly because I've been busy, but mostly because I did not feel that I had anything to say that anyone would be interested in reading. Even if someone was reading.

Simply put, I had a series of major changes in my life, all linked, and happening in what seemed to me to be a rapid succession of cause and effect.

I was happy about none of it.

So what to do with my now empty days and nights?

My kitchen more or less BEFORE

Call all my friends and cry on their shoulders until they began avoiding me? Nah.

Write it all out here so my private life would be spooled on so many backup tapes and archived for a hundred years? Again, nah.

Maybe curl up in a fetal position on my bed at night and cry myself through it all?

Definitely, nah.

Instead I did something that I had been wanting to do for a very long time, but my ex and I could never agree on what was to be done.... I remodeled my house. Not that I could afford it, but thanks to some timely offers of deferred interest from some local do-it-yourself retailers, I pulled it off.

So days at work and working nights. It took eleven months. If I could have rustled up some more credit, I'd still be at it.

More or less AFTER

Some rooms got just paint, others got more. Ceiling fans, light fixtures, paint, furniture, drapes, floors, cabinets.. nothing was sacred. For the first few months, my right hand held little but a three pound sledge hammer. I had lived in this house for nearly nineteen years and had changed only the laundry room and a bathroom. Now those were the only rooms semi safe (although the bathroom did get a change of towels and shower curtain). The kitchen would be the biggest change. Lights, cabinets, floors, ceiling, counter tops... the works.

This would be my sanctuary, my therapy, the route to a new life. I would do it myself (which I did about 98%). I would not go down, and if I did, I was not taking anybody down with me.

No hostages.

A time to leave...

noreply@blogger.com (Distorteddogma) — Fri, 10 Feb 2012 05:05:00 +0000

It began as a glance.

Not across a crowded room at a party or anything quite so romantic or cliché, but you walked past on a jobsite.

Covered in paint, hair like a wild pony’s mane, coarse, knotted and bleached by the summer sun.

It’s been a long trip since that day, well over twenty-three years.

Since that first day I knew I would never be able to keep you.

No one ever will.

Even before I had you, I knew.

But I held on for as long as I could.

Longer than I should.

There is so much good to remember, sad that some is spoiled by the ending.

I will never know another woman like you.

But you will never be loved, like you were by me.

Good-bye.

Having a head cold is not the same as having a cool head

noreply@blogger.com (Distorteddogma) — Sun, 08 Jan 2012 21:44:00 +0000

I hope you will excuse my recent absence as the New Year has brought me the opportunity to explore the staggering semi-liquid production capacity of my nasal passages in the form of a whopping great head cold. A journey which I continue this morning.

I have also been struck by the amazing resistance, which my affliction exhibits, to all forms of remedy, store bought names, generics, and home styled. No matter the active ingredient, nor the manufacturer, all seem to be totally ineffective.

At one point it was suggested that it might be an allergy and not a cold at all. But alas, Allergy meds from A to Z have also been tried only to find their way to the kitchen dustbin in miserable failure.

Felled by my cold have been boxes of various name brand facial tissues, all of which I now equate to the coarsest and most abrasive sand paper.

No sneezing, no “itchy eye,” no fever, or ache, just a continuous production of ever changing colors and consistencies as tissues by the truckload are filled and tossed away.

So excuse me for not participating in all the resolutions, hoopla, and joy exhibited by some. I'm just not up for it right now.

Happy Fricken New Year.

noreply@blogger.com (Distorteddogma) — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 18:50:00 +0000

Today is the last day of my winter vacation.

I usually take one in the summer, around the fourth of July, and one in the winter around the Christmas holiday. It's a tradition that started when my boys were young and in school. It was done so that I could be home with them.

Sometimes we take trips, sometimes not. Sometimes I get a "Honey do list", most times not. As the boys were growing we have "fed the mouse" several times and been to almost every rollercoaster park in the states. (Cedar point in Sandusky Ohio is still the champ). This year was simpler.

Things throughout this vacation were quietly busy. My wife (scenic artist) was working two shows, my eldest son drove in from New Mexico for the holiday, and my youngest started a new job. We all gathered for the traditional dinner and exchange of gifts at my Mother's house, but for the most part stayed out of each others way.

For myself I dabbled with some new ideas, watched some animation tutorials, and got my holiday cartoon up just before Christmas. I also worked on a second cartoon that I’ve been at for nearly a month. It should be done soon.

And I spent way too much time getting to know Google Plus, and twitter.

I did manage to gain only six pounds this holiday, a sum that my old three speed Beach Cruiser and I will work off without much extra effort. My annual winter cold arrived late, just before new years. It would seem that no amount of prevention can do more than postpone its arrival.

Looking back, it was a nice vacation, filled with family and friends, occasional quiet times for me to clear my mind and do whatever I liked or nothing at all. It was just nice.

But for this year, today is the last day.

Be Well.

A New Years Wish

noreply@blogger.com (Distorteddogma) — Sun, 01 Jan 2012 08:15:00 +0000

New Years Eve has come and gone.

Most other holidays too

Twenty-twelve is set upon

the start of something new.

366 days in Twenty-twelve

This year we take a leap

in this prose, I will not delve

possibilities too deep.

But now it's here, we intonate

the times that we have known.

In this year I'm fifty-eight

my, how THAT time has flown.

So here we go together then

into the void that is tomorrow.

Hoping we will be here when

the Maya Calendar we outgrow.

Be Well.