1:1 or 1:1,000,000…


There is no argument that technology can deliver tidings in the blink of an eye.  Maybe faster.  It would be of no surprise if some geek tested how fast an email could go from zero to 1 million readers – or 100 million – through the simple act of passing the message along.  There’s a dream office pool for some techie company.

My way, on paper, is so molasses-slow that in the time it takes me to type the first few words, an email can be around the world who knows how many times.  In theory, after a few people hit their ‘forward’ button’, and then a few more hit their forward button, whatever the message is can be sent to an exponentially larger group of people, most of whom probably don’t want whatever the message is; i.e. email about cute kitties, endless political yammering, virus-filled photos of comely vixens, spurious business ventures, or drugs for the manly man (or the man who feels he’s coming up short in certain departments).

The ratio of preference to me is 1:1 or 1:2.  Those are pretty agreeable numbers.  Not to trod again on ground already trampled, but privacy is not served when, with a few mindless clicks, half the known world – in theory – could eavesdrop on my creation before my kids ever see it.  No way, no how, not ever.

————————–

Here is last Monday’s letter to Ellen and Reid.

May 10, 2010

Ellen/Reid: You guys, Tim included, deserve Gold Stars for your Grandma weekend.  Your grandparents in Omaha were really pleased you guys made a special trip.  Who knows how many more times you will have that opportunity.  It was just a great effort and was a sizeable sacrifice on your part.  It’s one of those things you have to do, so thanks for making the time.  It made their weekend.  They ask about you every single time we talk, and it was good for them to hear from the horse’s mouth for a change.

Had a pretty good weekend which, loosely translated, means I didn’t do a whole heck of a lot.  Rode up to Statesville to the Harley dealer on Saturday morning to collect their dealer pin, then jetted back in time to make golf at 12:30.  Played okay although my swing is so fragile my game could evaporate at any moment.  Washed the bike yesterday and took a nap.  That was about the extent of things.  I’m increasingly perturbed at British Petroleum for their gusher in the Gulf, so as a penalty of sorts I left the fossil fuel burning car home and walked to the grocery story, about a mile and a half each way, to retrieve some bread and chow mien noodles.  Quite a purchase.  Why we continue to poke holes in the earth that can be potentially disastrous for our shorelines is beyond me.  But I drive as much as anyone else so I’m pointing the fickle finger of blame at me, too.

The NASCAR Hall of Fame opens tomorrow and the Observer suggested varying routes to get to the Uptown area.  The Hall is about four blocks from my office, and it’s going to be a zoo tomorrow.  Not that I’ll ever actually pay a visit to the Hall (admission: $20) but it is kind of a nice building created in an oval, embanked stockcar motif.  Whatever brings business to town is alright with me.

Of all the articles I wish I would’ve clipped from the paper last week was the initial promotion for the alligator hunting season in South Carolina.  Although biologists down there say there is no good reason for the hunt, the camo-clad-crowd is insistent on their rights to kill things.  So, for $100, you can plunk yourself into the “lottery” for a tag to kill a gator.  There will “only” be 1,000 permits granted for the right of shooting an alligator with a bow, then shooting it with a gun to finish it off once it is beside your boat.  The report said the average length of a gator “harvested” last year was over nine feet.

Went to my writer’s group for the first time last week.  They met up in the arts district known as NoDa, short for North Davidson.  It’s an eclectic group of wanna-be writers of novels, plays, screenplays and the like.  I’m not quite sure what I was hoping to get out of it, but it occurred to me that I’m best off writing by my lonesome.  I suppose it is marginally inspirational if it helps me to get off my duff and finish the book.

I’m giving some thought to retirement.  Your uncle has been a big help in helping me sort through all the scenarios, most of which center around the delay of taking Social Security because the longer you put it off, the larger your monthly check becomes.  What I do know is that I will always work at something, whether that is bagging groceries or working in a book store or Dick’s Sporting Goods.  I don’t want to hang it up and just hang out at home.  That just wouldn’t work for me.  Age 62 or 63 sounds about right.  My only goal is to have enough surplus cash to play a bit of golf and travel to see you two and perhaps develop another hobby or two.  With any luck, I can pay off the house off soon enough with proceeds from my 401K or other tepid investments and that will help things.  My backup plan is the win the Lottery.  You’d get about half of my take.

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