Distance Is Zero
Tuesday. The web hosting company I'd used for years sold all of their California clients to another web hosting outfit recently and I fear they've screwed up the transfer as both buyer and seller are telling me (somehow) they're not able to send me the id and password for my email account. The techie I talked with at the company that bought my account suggested I find another web hosting company as the exchange between their two companies had been really screwed up. Techies will sometimes tell you the truth, generally at great length if they realize you have some technical background yourself. So, although I left a not yet returned phone message with someone in the buying company I was referred to by one of the supervisors at the selling company yesterday, I probably won't have email again until I return to Oakland where I will make “just in case” backup copies of everything including Ms. Emmy. The techie suggested I'd find the same service out there for half the price I've been paying anyway. Such is life. Time, maybe, to return to Oakland early now that the animals have been taken care of by the new and reliable older, but still very young lady who's now coming in every day to feed them. No complaints.
I believe it's the Boy Scouts who suggest you “be prepared”.
I had no idea they were so computer literate.
Interesting developments in the primarly election campaigns. We are living in interesting times. I'd pontificate, but I have no idea where any of it is going and it would be simpler to hold off on any eagerly awaited observations by me and take another nap.
Sensible, sensible.
I notice I passed a milestone of sorts on the 24th. I started this journal as a “journal” on Octoober 29, 1998, but I created my first “entry” as such on what was then my old North Bay Business Computers (nbbc.com) web site earlier that year on January 24th. You're not considered an old time journaler unless you started your journal no later than 1997 so whether I've been a journaler since January 24th, 1998 or October 29, 1998 doesn't really make any difference. Still, for me, the 24th marked a ten year anniversary of sorts.
I look back at my old entires and wonder, as a guy then in his fifties, that I wrote so much artificial and embarrassing crap, but then, what the hell, if it had mattered I'd never have started. To be honest is often to look naive which is failure after fifty years of working to create our (clever, much sought after) public face. Easier and healthier to be honest is my thought (and it takes so much less effort). Most of the early journalers got whatever they were looking for from their journal within a few months, a year or two at the most, and graduated to better things. So I'm a slow learner. “Slow learners have more fun” said the man on the mountain. My man, my mountain.
A decent night's sleep here alone in this large house, rain last night, but no snow, the sun breaking through dark clouds as often as not in the late morning, rain now in the early afternoon. I need to go somewhere and walk around with a camera to get out of the house, no less the fact I need something to run up top. This suburban checkerboard is no place for people who don't have children to raise as there's no place you can go without driving and the number of cafés within driving distance is zero. I'm sure they exist, it's just I don't know where they are.
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