Season's Greetings: 2017 - 2018

A Sunflower for Xmas

      If global warming deniers need proof that the climate is warming, how about sunflowers in December?

Park and Playground near Okayama Airport

cultivated pine and red camellias

       Christmas day here in Japan was a bright sunny day with comfortable temperatures in the high teens Centigrade. We decided to go walking at a park near the airport in the morning to work up an appetite for a special 7-course Christmas dinner at our favorite French restaurant. 

playing carpet golf

sunflower and rape blossoms

       There were several cars in the parking lot when we arrived at the park. There were many families with children enjoying the weather and the Sunday holiday. As we were walking towards the airport runway we noticed something unusual for this time of year. From a distance it didn’t seem possible. But as we got closer the “something unusual” turned out to be a sunflower—something that one wouldn’t have seen in December in the past. 

narcissus

pampas grass

        It isn't only sunflowers that are blooming out of season. One can also see rape and narcissus blossoms as well. It made me reflect that over the past 20 years the native pine trees that used to dot the surrounding mountains had been turning brown and dying year after year until, now, there are hardly any left.

airport runway -- Okayama City in the far background

take off 

        But, now we have sunflowers for Xmas.

        Who needs poinsettias?

Seasons Greetings -- 2016 - 2017

Rebuilding my mid-2009 MacBook Pro

     I retired my old mid-2009 MacBook Pro notebook computer after a re-install of OS X Leopard from the DVD that came with the computer left it pretty much out of date on the Internet and useless. Another reason I put it away is that the keyboard was malfunctioning and I decided to buy a new notebook computer. I did not throw it out, however. 

Core Telephony Trace File Error

        I bought a 2015 Mac Air with OS X Yosemite installed and upgraded it to OS X El Capitan 10.11.6 and that worked fine until recently when Apple came out with a new upgrade to OS Sierra. To make a long story short, I ran into a problem with the Air when I did something wrong with a 500 GB external hard disc that was formatted for Microsoft Windows 8 as a storage device. After trying to format it for the Mac the disc got corrupted and wouldn't load in either computer, the PC or the Air. And I got a dreaded error message on the Air about a “Core Telephony Trace File Error”. After a panic call to Apple Support I re-installed OS X El Capitan and that got rid of the error message.

MacBook Pro (before)

        The experience made me realize how vulnerable a computer can be and thought it would be sensible to have backup machines. I started doing some research on the Internet and found a lot of advice about rebuilding an older Apple computer. Since my old MacBook Pro was just gathering dust I had nothing to lose by experimenting with it and decided to give it a shot.

USB keyboard and mouse (Logicool)

        I read that nothing could be done to upgrade my OS X Leopard but that it was possible to buy a DVD for OS X Snow Leopard 10.6.3 from Apple for around $20 to upgrade from Leopard. I bought a DVD and installed it and then upgraded it to Snow Leopard 10.6.8, from which you can upgrade to later versions the Mac OS X series right up to El Capitan. I had forgotten about the keyboard problem and found that upgrading to Snow Leopard hadn't fixed the problem. I found that my Windows 8 USB keyboard bypassed the Mac 's onboard keyboard and worked fine, so I bought a Logicool USB one for around $20 (including a mouse) from a local shop.

RAM Memory (green cards)

RAM Memory cavity (clips on sides)

        With the USB keyboard and mouse the MacBook Pro worked fine with Snow Leopard since it had only 2 GB of RAM Memory. However, to upgrade to El Capitan 4 GB of RAM Memory are recommended to avoid sluggish performance. Before attempting the El Capitan 10.11.6 upgrade I bought 4 GB of Ram Memory (generic no brand for $34) from another local shop. You can unscrew the back of the Mac and remove the old memory cards and install the new ones. The are easy to remove and install by releasing the clips on each side. They almost pop out. Remove the old ones and pop in the new ones until you hear a click sound indicating that they are properly seated. Screw the cover back on, boot up the computer and check that the cards are properly installed (click Apple logo, open About this Mac and check that Memory is correct).

from 2GB to 4 GB Ram Memory

4 GB RAM memory (2 x 2 GB)

El Capitan [bottom] on Apple Store (Purchases)

      Getting El Capitan from the Apple store can be tricky. I had previously downloaded El Capitan for my Mac Air so Apple still had a record of it. You go to Apple store and click on Purchases. If you have downloaded it before with a valid Apple user account El Capitan will still be there. If it's there just click on it and the download and upgrade will begin automatically.

       So far so good, but I ran into a problem with my Wi-Fi network. Nothing I tried would make the Wi-Fi work with El Capitan. Fortunately, the old MacBook Pro still has a connector for Internet cable and the house is wired for it from before Wi-Fi days when all we had was cable. So, I simply plugged the Pro onto the Internet with a cable, and, voila, I now a have functioning back up computer at relatively little cost.

MacBook Pro (after) 4 GB RAM, OS X El Capitan 10.11.6
USB Logicool keyboard and mouse, Internet cable (red on left)

     

Euthanasia – the good death

     Occasionally a confluence of influences come together to create what I like to call an “aha moment” a consolidation of previous bits and pieces of thoughts and ideas into a coherent and meaningful whole.

        Life and death issues are with us from the moment of birth. The pull of life is so insistent for the young that they think of themselves as immortal by default. And that's just as it should be. The imminence of death for the aged is just as insistent and gradually, almost imperceptibly at first, we begin to entertain the nagging and intrusive thoughts of our own demise. And that's also just as it should be. It is said that an unexamined life is not worth living. I would add that an unexamined death (if only in the abstract) can lead to an unnecessarily trepid approach to aging.

        What we fear is not so much the unknown that death is, but the absence or loss of life and the potential pain of a prolonged dying process. There is a wonderful Snoopy cartoon where Snoopy and Charlie Brown are contemplating the grim reaper. Charlie says: “Someday we will all die, Snoopy.” Snoopy responds: “True, but on all the other days we will not.” Now, that's a bit of useful philosophy.

        So, we arrive at one of those confluences, in this case the inevitability of death and the inevitability of living until then. Those inevitabilities are givens. What is not given is the quality of those inevitabilities. We can live life poorly or well, and we can also die poorly or well. One is likely to lead to the other. To die well, one must live well—and have choices. To live and die poorly is often a result of no choices whatsoever, or bad choices. To die well, implies a choice of when and how to depart this life as well.

Foxglove and vine Ikebana

digitalis lanata (Foxglove)

        Unwittingly I gambled with death just the other day by using a plant called Digitalis lanata (Foxglove) for an Ikebana arrangement not knowing its name. By chance a blogger recognized my photo of the arrangement an told me of its name and that it was a highly poisonous plant. Sure enough, a Google search informed me that all parts of the plant are highly toxic if ingested and can lead to severe symptoms and even death. It is also used to treat heart patients in controlled dosages.

        The author Umberto Eco in his novel The Island of the Day Before puts it rather well. “We die because we cannot do otherwise. Only the philosopher can think of death as a duty, to be performed willingly and without fear. As long as we are here, death is not here, and when death comes, we have gone.”

        A news item today informs me that the Canadian Parliament will soon consider draft legislation to codify Canada's assisted suicide laws. Euthanasia is already legal in Canada, the draft is designed to establish guidelines for who can (and, equally important, should not) be considered eligible for assisted suicide.

                    Draft legislation in Canadian Parliament

        Assisted suicide is, of course, a controversial topic and one that should not be considered lightly, but should be approached with a view to choice for those who, in certain circumstances, would choose knowingly and in sound mind not to prolong a painful terminal illness and die with dignity—a good death.

        Euthanasia is a derivative of the Greek words for death [thanatos] and good [eu]. He never lived his life so well as in the leaving of it. I think I read something like that somewhere once upon a time. At any rate, I would like to have that choice, should I want it, when my time comes to bid farewell to this beautiful blue-green marble.

Going to the Feelies

all dressed up and ready to go

     I hadn't been to a cinema theater in some years, so I was surprised recently to find that I had a choice of theaters, 2D and 3D screens and type of seat selections all within the same cinema complex for the latest Episode of Star Wars: The Force Awakens. Naturally the ticket price varies according to your selection. The most expensive ticket included a private lounge with its own drink and food concessions—something like the VIP lounge in airports.

view from the moving seats

        We chose a less expensive theater with a 3D screen and seats that sway and shake you up coordinated with the action on the screen. Readers of Science Fiction, especially older ones, will no doubt be familiar the Aldous Huxley's 1932 sci-fi cum distopic novel Brave New World. In contrast to another dystopic novel of the same period 1984 by George Orwell, which controls by fear, Huxley's work controls through total gratification of desire. Given the choice most people would prefer Brave New World to 1984. In place of threats and surveillance, promiscuity and pleasure. One of the pleasures available to the inhabitants of the brave new world was a cinematic experience called “The Feelies”. The feely palace was so wired that all of the physical senses were employed in the enjoyment of the film.

red seats sway and jostle you

anticipation

        After seeing Star Wars: The Force Awakens in 3D and being swayed and jostled by the seat it occurred to me that the real world was catching up to the sci-fi predictions in Huxley's novel. Adding the sense of scent and a little fine tuning in the tactile and you could participate in a passionate on screen kiss and more.

        Well, it was kind of fun having planets blow up in your face and fighters whizzing by just outside of touching range and disappearing behind your ear. After being jostled around in your seat in time to the cannon blasts and crashes a brief respite of tranquility was very welcome. The volume of of the ultra Dolby system left my ears ringing for a few hours (if not days) and I could feel the tension in my neck and shoulder muscles from being tossed around in my seat for over two hours.

         As for the story and plot line it was pretty standard for the Star Wars episodes. If you've seen one you've seen 'em all kind of thing. Dragging Harrison Ford and Carrie Fisher out of retirement was a mixed success at best. Older Han Solo tried to be the sarcastic/cute young Solo, but it doesn't really work in a 70-something guy. Carrie Fisher seems mostly weary and depressed. You are left wondering whatever happened to Princess Leia, that spunky wisecracking young ingenue. All in all Hollywood hasn't really been able to overcome the nostalgia and affection people have for the original three Star Wars (IV, V, VI) episodes. Except for the evolution of the wonders of technology it makes you question the wisdom of making sequels—great for box office, so so great for creativity and quality.

        After being thrown around in our seats for over two hours we were rather hungry and had dinner at a Vietnamese restaurant in the same mall as the cinema complex. It was a rather warmish evening and pleasant for a walk to the parking lot to pick up the car. All in all, a nice change of pace and evening out. 

Happy Holidays

A Pretty Pass . . .

. . . and an up-to-date Modest Proposal (apologies to Jonathan Swift)

duck and cover - c. 1950s

     Shades of "duck and cover" under your desk in case of a nuclear attack when I was a kid in school in the early days of the Cold War.

bullet proof blankets in attractive red - 2015

        Modern marketing, in the wake of mass shootings, some in elementary and high schools, have come up with the perfect solution for protecting the young—bullet proof blankets. It's no longer crawl under your desk children, it's crawl under your blankie. Leave it to modern marketing to find new ways to part the consumer from his swag. “Don't need a new refrigerator or flat screen TV? How about a nice bright red or blue bullet-proof blankie for your child. Your child deserves nothing but the best in the latest advances in child security.”

        No, this alone won't do. I have a much better idea. . . or two.

.45 Cal Automatic

        I seem to remember some rumblings about the possibility of requiring classroom teachers to be armed after the massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut in 2012. I haven't heard whether or not that idea passed into legislation. But, in addition to bullet proof blankets for the children, it might be a good idea to have an armed and target-trained teacher to keep the intruders from coming in, kicking off the bullet proof blankets and shooting the kids while the helplessly/hopelessly unarmed teacher can only watch in horror. But, with Ms. Oakley whipping her .45 Cal Automatic out of the desk drawer and engaging the intruders in a shootout over their heads, the children would be safely huddled under their bullet proof blankets while sharpshooter Ms. Annie dispatches the perps, blows the smoke from the business end of her .45 and calmly continues the Math lesson.

        For real protection for the children, however, bullet proof blankies and sharpshooter teachers are not enough. And here, I'm sure the NRA will be in full 100% support of this idea. In the classroom the armed teacher and bullet proof blankies might turn the trick, but what about on the playground, or walking to and from school or in the school bus? Bullet proof vests are not practical in these non-classroom venues. And unless the teachers are packing heat on their hips, the playground is open territory for would be terrorists. You could arm the school bus drivers on school buses, but it's pretty hard to have a shootout while driving and, anyway, lots of kids (without their bullet proof blankies) would be caught in the crossfire.

Colt Peacemaker Caliber .45

        The logical thing, obviously, is to arm the children themselves for their own self-protection. The Second Amendments rights of adults to bear arms should be extended to the children. Of course, children should not carry weapons without knowing how to use them. Therefore, mandatory target practice must be added to the PE program in all schools from K through 12. All the children would receive a nice Christmas present of a child size working replica of the Colt .45, a hand tooled leather holster to keep it in and a green beret in the same year as they receive their proficiency-with-the-weapon certificate. I would dare any terrorist to set foot in that classroom!

        This idea may sound a bit bizarre, but I'm willing to bet that modern marketing can make this seem the greatest idea since sliced bread. It's all in the packaging. And think of the boon to the arms manufacturers' profits and those of the target-range construction industry and gun shooting trainers. I see a goldmine here. Then we can all sleep peacefully with thoughts of sugar-plum fairies dancing in our heads.  

Let me bore you with this story...(3)

Coming Home - Part 3

ready for surgery...

     Many days passed until, finally, one day I was moved into a big enclosed space with all kinds of machines and noise and sentients running around doing one thing or another on many other damaged automobiles. A couple of the sentients (they were humans) began to look me over, opened my hood and said: “The engine looks good, not damaged at all. None of the windows are broken, but the left passenger door and the left front fender are crumpled and have to be replaced. The front passenger seat is bent and torn—has to be replaced. Left side airbags have to be replaced. The rest of the interior is OK. The chassis is not bent—big plus. The biggest problem is that the left front drive wheel and brake mechanism are ruined, and the driveshaft is bent--both will have to be replaced and retooled. OK, that's it. Let's get this baby ready for surgery!” The last thing I remember was my battery being disconnected and then nothingness.

       There was the sound of music. I had heard that music before. It was a Mozart Violin Sonata. It was one of the pieces of music on my USB. I thought: “I'm conscious again. I've been reconnected and started--the USB has come back on automatically.” There was a man in the driver's seat. He was talking to another man outside about me. He said: “Looks good, she started right up.” (He called me “she”. Maybe I'm beautiful again!) “Good, take her out for a test on the highway. Bring her up to 120kph and check for smooth acceleration and any shaking and pulling in the left front drive wheel,” said the other man. Off we went.

test drive

       We drove slowly out of the Takanaka Auto parking lot. It was like learning to move again. I was a little shaky at first, but as we drove out of the lot and down the street I had the urge to go faster and sense the wind flowing around me and through my vents. I didn't notice any changes in my drive wheel, it turned smoothly and steadily as my speed increased. Out on the highway the driver accelerated smoothly and steadily up to 120kph and held me there for several minutes until he was satisfied that everything was running smoothly and then he drove me back to Takanaka Auto. Mechanically I was like new. I sensed that my body had been restored to its original condition, but my brain had to be reset. Takanaka wasn't equipped to work on my computer, so I was sent to the Mazda dealership in Kushiro for the reset. Now I was ready to be sent back home 1500 kilometers away. I felt ready to drive all the way back by myself. I'm pretty smart, but, unfortunately, I'm not a self-drive automobile.

up up and away...

       Takanaka put me on a piggy back truck and I was given a ride to the port in Kushiro. The piggy back pulled up to a big boat, but this one was different from the ferry boat I had driven onto before. It didn't have any openings to drive through. This one was called a “cargo ship”. Before I knew what was happening I found myself being hoisted high into the air. “What a strange new sensation,” I thought. Then I was lowered onto the deck and tied down with cables attached to the steel rings under the front and back of my chassis, like the one that towed me to Takanaka Auto after the collision. So I had my first sea voyage in the open air. The sun was shining, the sea birds were flying all around as we pulled away from the pier and sailed out of the harbor. I felt the ship pitching and rolling gently on the swells. It took several days with the ship making ports of call, loading and unloading cargo, until we reached the big port of Osaka. I was uncabled and again hoisted high into the air and put down on another piggy back truck and driven to Tamashima port near my home in Okayama. It was a weekend and I couldn't go home until Monday.

oops, overshot the mark....

c'mon down...

       Finally, the big day. I'm going home. The piggy back truck driver arrived and I heard him call someone on his cell. He spoke to someone and said that he expected to arrive around 10 o'clock that morning and would “you” be home at that time? That “you” must be my parents who were waiting for me. I'm not a sentient, of course, but I think I felt something like “excitement” to be going home and the comfort of my own garage. As the piggy back drove closer to my home, I began to recognize places I had been to before, and then we were on “my street”. I saw Aya coming out of the house and Jude was standing on the deck above my garage—with a camera as usual. Oh no, the truck drove right past the house! Aya ran down the street to tell the driver that he had gone past the house. “No, no,” said the driver, “I need some space to back your car off the truck.”

       And so, he backed me off the truck and up to the driveway to my garage and I was back home again. “Wow,” said Aya, “she looks like new!” “Yeah, she sure does,” said Jude, “let's take her out for a test spin and see if she runs OK.” 

       They did, and I DID!

The end

Let me bore you with this story... (2)

Coming Home - Part 2

     We left Niseko the next day and headed east to meet Jude and Aya's son, Brin, who was flying in from Tokyo to spend a few days on the Shiretoko Peninsula in Eastern Hokkaido. It was a gray, cloudy day threatening rain. When we arrived at Kushiro airport Jude and Aya got a mobile call from Brin saying that his flight was delayed in Tokyo for a “mechanical issue”. After a short time, while they were discussing what to do, he called again and said that they were now getting ready to take off from Haneda Airport and would arrive a couple hours late. Jude and Aya decided to kill some time by going into Kushiro for some sightseeing and programmed me for the trip.

       We were driving along smoothly on a perfectly straight road. The pattern of the streets was unfamiliar for people from the southern parts of Japan with their narrow twisting roads. The wide streets were laid out in a grid pattern with many crossroads. As we were going through an intersection Jude suddenly exclaimed: “Oh shit!” Just then I felt a white blur smash into my left front wheel with a loud crunching and banging-thudding sound. I was pushed a short distance and then I couldn't move any more. I filled up with smoke but my engine kept on running and the music played on. Jude said: “Oh, SHIT!. We are FUCKed!” Then to Aya, who was whimpering and crying: “Get out of the car, now!” Aya was able to open the crushed passenger door and got out into the street. Jude suddenly realized I was still running and turned me off and got out of the car himself.

       The rest is a blur of sounds and images: Jude asking Aya if she was alright and noticing blood on her torn jacket sleeve, trying to get her to calm down. The driver of the other automobile pointing to the stop sign that Jude had just run. The front end of his car was crumpled, a piece of it in the street. Sirens, a firetruck, an ambulance, several police cars, a policeman opening my hood. I sensed that I was badly damaged; my left front fender and left passenger door crushed, left front wheel bent, my left front seat torn and several airbags dangling from the ceiling on the passenger side. I was broken, unable to move. 

        The gray, rain threatening afternoon dragged on with mobile phone calls, medical attention for Aya, endless questions for Jude and measurements by the police. Eventually an ambulance took Aya to a hospital and Jude was left in the street awaiting whatever was coming next. What came next was a truck. The truck driver approached Jude standing on the curb and said he was going to tow me away. Jude, looking shell shocked and confused mumbled: “What?” The man seemed to understand Jude's condition and clarified: “I'm a wrecker service from Takanaka Auto associated with Xanadudu.” Jude responded: “Oh, OK, whatever!” Just then another policeman came up to Jude, introduced himself as "Natsu", and said he was going to drive him to the hospital where Aya had been taken.

       I was, alone, abandoned, at the mercy of the “wrecker”. It had started raining. An ugly looking beast backed up to my front end and lowered a huge iron hook. The wrecker driver found a large iron ring under my engine and inserted the hook into it and lifted my front up off the ground with my grill pointed at the sky. I was then pulled, in that humiliating position, through the rain slick streets of Kushiro until we reached what looked like an automobile graveyard where I was unceremoniously dumped with the other wrecks. It was the end of my short life and it was my own  fault. I had been in the habit of announcing: “There's a stop sign ahead,” as part of my GPS program. But I had failed to announce the stop signs on that long straight stretch of road in Kushiro and Jude had run one. We had probably run several of them before the fatal intersection came down on our heads. Night came down. It was dark.

       A gray rain-soaked dawn, other derelicts like tombstones in the stygian light. Strange new sentients coming to look at me. Humans. “It's a shame,” said one, “only 3,683 kilometers, practically brand new!” “Not as bad as it looks, I've seen worse. Look around you!” said another. “I wonder if the owner plans to junk it?” said a third. “They are coming this morning. I'm going to recommend that it be repaired. It's not that bad and it is a brand new car. It's worth fixing,” said the second, “and it is fully insured.”

       My parents are coming. They haven't abandoned me. I hope they agree to have me repaired so I can go back home! A taxi pulled into Takanaka Auto's parking lot and three sentients got out: Jude, Aya and a younger human who looked a little like both of them.”This must be their son, Brin,” I thought. All three came and looked at me a little sadly, I thought. Brin, who was seeing me for the first time, said: “Ouch! That looks pretty bad. Do you think it can be repaired?” “Well, to him I guess I'm just an 'it' ,“ I thought, “he hasn't had time to get to know me. Hmph, I am a young lady!” Just then Mr. Takanaka approached and invited all three of them into his office for, he said, some tea and a chat.

       A little while later a very unattractive blue Nissan K-car drove into the parking lot--puny, tinny and no power. Soon Mr. Takanaka and Aya, Jude and Brin came out of the office all smiles and good fellowship. Then I heard the good news. I was going to be repaired but it would take some time, maybe a month or more. I would require several new parts that had to come from the Mazda factory and many of my reparable parts needed to be worked on. Once repaired I would be shipped back home. Then I heard the bad news. That gaudy blue K-car was a rent-a-tart that Jude and Aya and Brin would drive away to continue OUR journey and leave ME behind to the tender mercies of Takanaka Auto, while they went off in THAT roller skate to have a good time without me. Humph! The Nissan was pulled up right in front of me. Ugh! Jude and Aya transferred their remaining luggage to that cheap tart. Jude dropped a bottle of gin and broke it on the hard surface of the parking lot in the process. “Serves him right,” I thought unkindly. Once everything was moved, they drove off and left me alone, again. There I sat, abandoned and broken, in the Takanaka Auto junkyard, for an endless wait for parts to arrive. And the rain kept on falling.

To be continued...