What comes to mind when you hear the word communication? Being a kid who grew up watching a lot of black & white cowboy shows, the first things I think of are smoke signals. Did anyone besides the Native Americans use them? Of course, my brain always wonders these questions so it was off to Google I went this morning.

All Native Americans had their own set of signals. No one but their tribe could decipher the signals. During a battle, they may signal the need for reinforcements. During illnesses, they would warn others to stay away so disease would not spread. Their method of communication also served well during WWII, and also for Chinese soldiers along the Great Wall. I believe they’re still used today, but not like before. Substances are mixed and added to the fire to make very thick smoke that will travel for miles.

The early tv shows also served as early depictions of the telephone. On “Lassie,” Timmy’s mom picked up the receiver and furiously cranked the wooden box on the wall, calling into town. And of course, every time Timmy fell in the well, Lassie came to the rescue. She would come charging back to the farm, sit, and whine. Lassie always saved the day! We learned even dogs can communicate. Being a pre-teen in the early sixties, I read all the information I could and watched shows featuring Shelly Fabares, Patty Duke, and Elinor Donahue. I imagined myself as them, going on dates, high school classes, and following the latest news in Tiger Beat, and all the teenage girl magazines.

And there were also the publications who believed their advice for girls. Let him be smarter. Let him be taller. Listen to what he has to say, boys like girls who are good listeners. Your pursuits won’t interest him. Hang on his every word. You must be strong, don’t allow make-out sessions to get out of control. It’s up to you to stop them. Boys cannot control themselves past a certain point. Remain chaste and pure. Yes, even Catholic GIrl Magazine peddaled that garbage. Communication at it’s worst, what do we do about that? We all try to be honest with each other, and tell our truth to another person. We give our opinion to each other, with truth tempered with respect, and think outside ourselves when we send the messages.

The messages that are not true, we need to stop. The stuff I read as a young girl was not the real truth. I believed it as truth, but it was not. The publications merely reflected the social norms at the time. But we know so much more now than we did then, and we are smarter than we were then. We know women are as smart as men, maybe smarter. God made us equal. Let’s not lie anymore. Let’s tell the truth from now on. Yes. Let’s do that. Let’s do that from this point forward. What a concept – telling the truth from now on Yes, we will. Tell the truth. It will be memorable.

All in all. Communicate your real truth. Communicate what you can live with. Communicate the God’s honest truth. And you don’t have to worry. See you tomorrow! And enjoy the evening.

Ain’t Technology Grand?

It surely is. When it works. When it doesn’t? We tend to panic, don’t we? I’m doing that right now.

This morning, I reached for my phone to check emails and messages about our upcoming car show fundraiser at the VFW Post this weekend, and all I get is a black screen. The dreaded black screen of death! What will I do? Tried the hard start. Nothing. Checked my charging cord. Frayed a bit but still ok. We tried charging it on the Babe’s charger. An hour later? Still nothing.

What’s a girl to do, in the middle of planning two fundraisers and a concert within three weeks, meeting up with people to secure donations, noting last minute tasks on your to do list, and keeping in touch with your artist about your kidlit book soon to be published?

You punt! What did we do in the olden days, of no phone that holds your life. What did we do before we became slaves (didn’t we just talk about our slavery and freedoms the other day?) to our devices and our phones became our lives? I am also guilty as charged. We all are. No more landlines, either. We feel stuck. We feel isolated. We feel uncomfortable. And we send emails, text like crazy from the Babe’s phone to get the word to key people your phone died and you’re still trying to lead the charge for these three events.

And you write about it in your daily blog, hoping people see it. Hey! you can tag everyone so you can get the word out! Maybe this won’t be so bad after all? OR will you learn in the next couple days to enjoy the quiet? NAH! Well, maybe. I’ll let you know how I do. And the worst part? Verizon doesn’t even open until 10 a.m. Heck, the day is half over by then! Wow, I really sound old with that one.

Aside from the crisis, it’s a beautiful day again. Clear skies, birds soaring around, and the Babe and I drank a whole bunch of coffee already by 8:30 a.m. I’ve caught up on my 71 squats a day and 22 wall/doorway push-ups. I hurt my back in the torso area. It felt like someone was stabbing me, like I had a butcher knife stuck between my ribs, halfway between my spine and underarm. Hurt like the devil. Couldn’t move. Spent a couple 24 hour periods on the TENS unit, full blast, constant zapping. That is the only thing that helps. It’s calmed down considerably since we missed the 4th of July at Louie’s house. It was a completely restful day for a change.

The previous paragraphs were written this morning about 8:00 a.m. It is now 5:30 p.m. I still have no working phone. The Babe has a new one. I transferred his data from the Google phone to the iPhone, no problem. I can get calls, but have no apps available until I can log onto the world of iPhones/Play/whatever the heck they call it. I no longer have the cell phone # when I set up the account. They ask what my phone # is now, I enter it, they sent re-set codes to that phone #. But I can’t get to it, since I cannot set up the phone. Today I’ve learned:

  1. The folks at iPhone think they own the world. After today, I believe they do.
  2. It now costs $99 at Best Buy to transfer data from one phone to another. Luckily, I could do the Babe’s.
  3. It will take at least until Saturday to get a new battery for my old phone. Then, they will test to see if it will charge. (Not at Best Buy, they won’t touch it). If it charges and turns on, I can transfer all my data to my new phone; then, my life will be worth living again. Sheesh! This is not for the faint of heart.
  4. The bulk of people at the Verizon Store this morning were mostly all elderly folks. Like us. At least we didn’t have to come in with our kids, like one couple did. I’d guess we know the most about all 8 of the people we saw in there. I can also verify we made two trips into the Verizon store; one to the Phone Fixit Store nearby (got the most help from them); and two trips to Best Buy. The first BB person didn’t even work with phones, he didn’t want to do it; the second BB store we went to was very knowledgable, but had no help for transferring data.
  5. Is there a patron saint of dead batteries on cell phones? Could you help me out and pray to that saint or angel or troll and ask for me to at least get iCloud folks to let me reset my password. The stupid thing is they want to send info on how to do that TO MY PHONE THAT CANNOT BE ACCESSED RIGHT NOW!! Yes, to the phone I can’t dial from, read a text from, or anything. And they very cattilly tell you online it may take many days to get you reset. Well excuuuuuusssssseee the heck out of me!
  6. Help. This world is too crazy.
  7. On the bright side, we have a couple nice, new phones. The Babe wanted to go back to iPhone, since his Google also had a battery fail earlier. I forgot about that. Oh well. Onward. Once I can text you about it. Or call you. Have a good evening.