TubaOrNotTuba

 A quick search this evening revealed that the “proper name” for someone who likes maps is a cartophile. No Wiki reference, yet, but everything comes along in time. Remember, I started with maps at a very early age; there wasn’t much else for a pre-reader in the CNR stations a lifetime ago. A map of the rail route, with each station as a circle. I’ve since learned that there’s a whole other story behind the maps that the railways produced in those times. Anyhow, let’s blame it on Hansel and Gretel, dropping crumbs and pebbles to mark their route. Blame the pigeons for the rest.

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Sometimes a second look at an idea allows me to see exactly what I should have noticed the first time around (but didn’t). Today, a prime example came from the Bluetooth adaptor that I’d put away about a year ago. Then, I had the goal of attaching a tiny headset in order to Skype with friends. I never felt comfortable with it hanging off my ear, so when a proper handset came along, the little USB device was filed for the future.

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I’m at a loss about what to answer someone who calls me, at home, at night, to announce that their computer has “caught a virus”. There are so many smart, witty responses that spring to mind. Enough for me to go on tour in the Catskills, if ever I get faith and the need to travel. It’s something that I haven’t heard around the office for ages; we try to keep our software up to date and the problem is one that has been around for decades. I’m actually out of practice.

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I’ve been “sharing the road” for two days now, since sidewalks have been deprecated in the area around my office. A little odd, as we have a very prestigious private school across the street, one usually served in an exemplary fashion by the city. Need a traffic signal AND a crossing guard? Say no more, say no more. Not this time around; we’re filing alongside the cars, who obviously believe that our winter clothing will protect us, like a knight of olden times, from the blunt trauma of a fender to a leg or two.

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And in the calm following the storm, I clearly forgot that my employer receives the probs from a completely different country. Ergo (as in ‘ere I go) off to work as per routine, take my bus with all the other salarymen, arrive to find an empty parking lot and two other ergos who also forgot. If we had “turned on the radio” or “checked the website” we also would have known that our office was closed due to inclement weather.

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I find inspiration in terrible weather. Forget those days when it’s a little wet, or a little cold, or a little anything. Real weather; the kind that makes you stop at odd moments in your march, just to catch your breath and readjust the layers of clothing. I can’t speak for other climates, but here we have winter, and today we have real winter. A storm that is worth going out for groceries.

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When isolated by the camera, objects can lose their identity. When I was much younger, CFCY used to have a contest; each week a lovely monochrome image of “something” was shown to the viewer, and we were asked to send in “what”. Through a macro lens, you can fool many people, particularly in a world where the television is new and still very mysterious.

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Back when our dollar was worth less than the neighbours, a model of printing two prices on magazine covers was normal. We accepted that our funny money got us less when it came to trading it for those fancy monthly collections of, well, everything fit to read. We all accepted the reality, and we paid a premium.

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Advances in recording technology leave me in awe. Last evening I was treated to an audio CD of the most recent Led Zeppelin concert, released in an unofficial manner by someone who just happened to be there. Agreed, this is a “bootleg” although what the person had on their feet may have had little to do with the affair, unless the equipment was brought past the (reportedly lax) security strapped to the calf. Instead, the recording studio may have rode inside a shirt pocket.

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When the alarm goes each morning, I awake with a sense of joy that I am alive and a feeling of relief that our New Government isn’t responsible for managing the country. What! They are, you say? Oh my… isn’t that special?

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