Posts Written By L Parker Brown

Resistance to Change: Baby Boomers Thrashing in the Digital Pool — Part II or II

TOE in the water 12847022

I know that many of you readers already know about e-books, because sometime between the early days, when the e-book landed on the digital landscape (Amazon released the Kindle in 2007, and Barnes and Noble followed with the Nook in 2009) and the present, you ran out and bought one; while we procrastinators held back. So this commentary is not for you pioneers. It is simply to enlighten my uninformed Johnny-and-Jill-come-lately cohorts, who have not yet submerged themselves in the digital pool.

In simple layperson’s terms, the Kindle Fire is an e-book reader, an electronic version of a printed book. Now, I will tell you why I am tickled pink — err, make that tan — about it.

As my son predicted, KF solved my book storage problem. But unfortunately, it did not cure my addiction, because now I buy and read more books, e-books that is, and at a faster pace than before. I recently saw a promo ad that said the KF will hold 6000 books. Hold up, wait a minute, I’d have to be a reading fool to download that many books, unless I have a joint bank account with Jeff Bezos. (Founder and CEO of Amazon.com.)

My Kindle Fire has many features that I enjoy. Aside from the nice crisp colors on the touchscreen, there is a nifty text-to-speech function. While the reader’s voice is not distractingly robotic it is not precisely Audible book quality either. There are some occasional, figurative hiccups, as when the elocution is interrupted by the inability of the automated reader to decipher certain words. Recently, I was listening to a book, while simultaneously reading along, and the reader read St. Louis as Street Louis. Resume — as in a job application — was pronounced resume, like let’s resume reading this story. And there were occasional inadvertent pauses and restarts, like the abbreviation for Doctor of Philosophy. PhD was read as ph — pause, as if the “h” ended the sentence. D was then read as if it were the first word of the following sentence. But such tiny glitches I could overlook.

The audio-text feature advances each page automatically; however, when the audio is muted – my preference – I must touch the screen to turn the page. An adjustable backlight makes reading easier, and it is an excellent feature when reading in a darkened room if you don’t want to disturb your spouse.

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Resistance to Change: Baby Boomers Thrashing in the Digital Pool — Part I of II

“If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.”~Dr. Wayne Dyer

Lifebuoy-and-help-concept-44209912Just like me, a lot of my friends will dip a toe in the water, but stay out of the pool. In this case I am talking about the digital pool.

Computerized gadgets are flooding the landscape faster than a cashier can run a credit card through a swipe machine. Unlike the millennials and their offspring, who were born into a computer-dominated society with a digital age mentality, many baby boomers and our predecessors play an ongoing game of catch-up and keep-up. And we are hung-up in a constantly rotating cycle of technological changes.

I dislike change. I realize that change is an inevitable fact of life, but that doesn’t make change my friend. I don’t even like to change my mind. But – my aversion to change does not mean that I don’t enjoy a challenge, even when that challenge involves change. My most recent challenge involved a significant change of habit for me. Grab a cup of coffee and let me tell you about it.

During my lifetime — I have acquired enough hardcover and paperback books to start my own public library. Although I have given away hundreds of books over the years, the shelves of my floor-to-ceiling bookcases are still crammed to capacity. In addition, I have boxes of books in the closets, in plastic containers under the bed, and in the storage room. I considered joining Book Lovers Anonymous, but before I could look into a 12 step program my computer-geek son, as I affectionately call him, suggested a solution – for the 99th time . “Mom,” he said, “Why don’t you buy an e-book?”

While teetering on the brink of the 100th pitch to save my literary soul, I decided to woman-up and face my dilemma, and I asked myself do I continue to resist change or accept the challenge? 

Although I told you that I am open to challenge, what I failed to add is that I am not a gadget person. My son knows this.  So, when one of  his disguised challenges involves me learning to use a new device that requires more to operate than simply turning it on and off, the needle on my “angst-ometer” swings sharply from normally functional to highly dysfunctional. Nevertheless, I bit the bullet and under the guidance of my personal geek, I bought a Kindle Fire.

Was it a blooper, blunder, or wonder?  If you care to know what happened after my crossover to the e-book side continue reading Part II.

 

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Jodi Arias Dethrones Casey Anthony

Mirror15460337Mirror, mirror on the wall. Who’s the most hated woman of them all?

Not since the Casey Anthony trial aired in 2011, have I been so captivated by a live televised courtroom trial; albeit one that features yet another woman who — in the court of public opinion — is the queen of evil, more familiarly called the “most hated woman in America.”

I admit that I am hooked on live courtroom programs. If I could I would rather view every live courtroom trial on TV than watch a single episode of Scandal. Okay, I perjured myself with that statement and request that it be stricken from the record. In my opinion Scandal trumps all other TV shows. But this is not about Scandal. It is about the reigning courtroom drama queen.

My research reveals that the first woman to hold the title was Madalyn Murray O’Hair, founder of the organization American Atheists. O’Hair was born on April 13, 1919, decades before courtroom trials became a television staple. But because her U.S. Supreme Court case contributed to the removal of prayer in public schools, proponents of universal prayer dubbed her America’s most hated woman. In August 1995, O’Hair, her son Jon, and granddaughter Robin suddenly disappeared. Six years later, in January 2001, one of the men convicted of kidnapping and murdering O’Hair and her relatives led police to a Texas ranch. Buried there law officers discovered the mutilated and dismembered bodies of the trio. Some considered it poetic justice.

The second infamous person to hold the uncomplimentary title was Casey Anthony, accused in 2011 of the death of her two year old daughter, Caylee. The child who lived in Orlando, Florida with her mother and her maternal grandparents had not been seen by the grandparents since June 16, 2008. She was reported missing to 911 a month later by Casey’s mother after Casey could not substantiate her daughter’s whereabout. Caylee’s decomposed remains were found in a garbage bag, in the woods, in December 2008. On July 5, 2011, despite overwhelming evidence including the then 25 year old’s proven web of lies, the jury found Casey not guilty. Outside the courthouse, TV cameras revealed the outrage of numerous nail-biting angry people. They, like many spectators who had been in the courtroom or  had viewed the proceedings on TV asked, about the jury, “What were they thinking?”

Now, Casey Anthony — who has been in hiding since her release — has been dethroned by the infamous Jodi Arias.

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When Sparky Lost His Spark: A Dog Dies of a Broken Heart

Old ShepherdMy Aunt Sarah died over 16 months ago. During a recent conversation I had with her husband, my Uncle James, he shared with me a story about their dog’s unusual behavior following my aunt’s death.

As a dog lover, I’ve always been impressed with stories I’ve heard about the instincts and loyalty of animals and how some of them travel great distances to reunite with their owners. And research has proven that dogs have an innate sense of protection for the people with whom they live. After my uncle told me about their family dog’s performance following my aunt’s death, I am even more convinced that just as dogs are “man’s best friend” we are theirs also.

When my aunt died not only was she mourned by numerous relatives and friends who traveled from far and wide to celebrate her homegoing, unbeknownst to us her absence was also felt by her family owned German Shepherd named Sparky.

My aunt and uncle had owned Sparky for many years and although I never knew the dog’s precise age, I do remember him being a frisky, energetic young canine that could easily intimidate anyone entering my aunt and uncle’s yard. Back then, when my aunt saw our family arriving at her home and then backing away when the dog appeared from around the side of the house, her confident words before shooing him away, “He won’t bother you.”  didn’t make me feel any less afraid of that dog. It’s like a dog owner telling me, “He won’t bite.” and me thinking, “He’s got teeth, doesn’t he?” As I said, I do like dogs, providing they don’t frighten me. I remember being wary of Sparky even after he grew old and slow; because as is a dog’s nature, he was no less territorial.

Long before Sparky became a member of their household my aunt and uncle lived in New York City. After retiring from their jobs in the Big Apple, they built a spacious brick house on family-owned land in Eastern North Carolina, outside a small town with a Mayberry feel to it. Several feet across the lawn from my aunt and uncle’s place, within shouting distance, is an old wood frame house built by my grandparents during the period dominated by World War II. They lived there until their deaths. Grandpa, the town’s popular Baptist preacher, who I never had the pleasure of knowing, died in 1946. Grandma left us in 1987. I cherish memories of the wonderful times that my immediate family and I spent visiting between the two houses over the years when grandma was alive.  After grandma died, my aunt and uncle’s home became the primary gathering place for many family members on holidays, getaway weekends, and other occasions.

In the rear of those two houses, partially encircled by a forest, is the small, family cemetery, the final resting place for a number of our family members. It is a quiet place where the living who visit the gravesite can connect spiritually with our departed loved ones. Apparently, Sparky connected there, too. 

I will tell you Sparky’s story as my uncle told it to me. 

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Closure Completes the Puzzle

Blue puzzle with missing piece and light beam

Nearly a month ago, I wrote the previous post (titled Desperately Seeking Closure) about my friend, Kenny G, who was missing. Since then a few of my other friends and some blog readers have been asking if I have heard anything about Kenny. The answer is …

Yes. And the news is good. A week before my birthday, which occurred earlier this month, I received a card from Kenny G along with a note informing of his where about. How happy was I to learn that he is alive and well. On the eve of my birthday, I got a phone call from him. What a wonderful birthday gift. We talked for about 20 minutes and I learned that he is living in another city. To preserve his privacy, I will not disclose his location, but to alleviate the curiosity of any prophets of doom, I will say that no, he is not in jail nor hospitalized.

Nancy Bern, in her book Closure: The Rush to End Grief and What it Costs  writes that closure has been described as “justice, peace, healing, acceptance, forgiveness, moving on, resolution, answered questions, or revenge.” Drawing from her list I would say that I found resolution and answers. Not only did I learn that my friend is not dead as I feared he might be, but he is all right.  

While I have always empathized with anyone who I hear express a need for closure, especially when it involves their child or loved one, my recent personal experience has given me even deeper empathy for people who are facing that dilemma. And to add my own description to Bern’s list, I liken closure to inserting the final piece that completes a jigsaw puzzle over which one has agonized for way too long.

 

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