Some of my favorite tech tools

Flashback to The Sound of Music and imagine that I am frolicking amongst the curtains singing in melodious protest to the thunderstorm raging outside, "Pandora, Picnik, and free Google Reader . . . these are a few of my favorite things!"

Seriously - if you haven't used these free online tools, they're worth checking out.

1. Google Reader I have a handful of blogs that I love to read regularly, but it's cumbersome to keep track of them. Google Reader solves this problem. All you have to do is create an account, list the blogs or other websites you want tracked, and then whenever these sites are updated, Google Reader collects the changes and puts them in an in-box -- similar to email. Whenever I have a minute to read blogs, I go to Google Reader and can see at a glance which blogs have new posts!

2. Picnik This is a great digital photo editing tool. You upload photos and can do all kinds of cool things with your pictures. (If you need to do more complex editing, you can download Gimp -- a free, open source equivalent to PhotoShop.)

3. Pandora Ever wish you could have a radio station that only played music you liked and with no commercials? Pandora does precisely that -- you create your own stations based on musicians you like and Pandora streams music by that artist and others with similar qualities.

4. Image collection Many of the images online are restricted under copyright regulations. But there are thousands of images that do not have such restrictions. This site, for example, is a huge collection of images created by people willing to share their work.

5. Google Calendar Another great Google application. I've never been able to stick to a paper planner, but Google Calendar helps me stay at least slightly organized. A cool feature is that you can create and share multiple calendars for various purposes. For example, spouses can keep individual calendars and then make them available to each other.

Hoodwinked

Call me simple-minded, but in my world a hood that has been slammed down and not since reopened should stay shut. Such an assumption proved to be utterly fallacious, however. See exhibit A below:



Here's the story: I'm driving home from church on the freeway going about 70 mph when all of a sudden my hood flies up, shatters my windshield and sends my rearview mirror flying. And since I didn't pay extra for a transparent hood, I have zero visibility. Hoping that there's a clear shoulder on my right and nobody close behind me, I slow down and pull over to the side of the freeway. I get out of the car and put my hood down, only to discover that it is now too mangled to shut properly. What to do? Call my husband? (Nope - he's MIA) The police? (How embarrassing!) Wait for a prince in shining armor to gallop up and save this damsel in distress? (Fat chance!) So, I put on my hazard lights, pray that the hood will stay down, and creep along to the next exit. A nice woman followed me into a parking lot after I exited. Apparently, she had watched the drama and followed me. She kindly asked if I was o.k. and offered to help. Just then, her husband happens to drive by -- she flagged him down and he pulled over. Luckily, he had rope in his car and tied down my hood. Now I could drive the rest of the way home with the peace of mind that my hood was not going to fly up; whether or not my windshield would crumble to bits was still a question. The hundreds of glass shards inside the car did not add to my confidence.

Thankfully, I made it home safely. As the nice rope man observed, "You're very, very lucky. Hoods and windshields can be replaced. You can not be replaced." It's true - this incident could have so easily been a tragedy. Can't help but think a few of my guardian angels put in some overtime hours yesterday. . . .

(Note to self: Next time you have an inkling that the hood of your car is protruding slightly, take immediate action!)

Spring

A bush outside my window after an ice storm. Lake Michigan in January.

Michigan is the land of the long winter. And Lansing ranks right up there with Seattle for endless days of gray. Actually, the gray and the ice feel more oppressive than the cold.



Blooming spring in Hawk Island Park not far from my apartment.

So when the cloud cover finally lifted in May and green overtook the gray, I felt like new life had been breathed into me. Ah, the sunshine! My cells were drinking it up like a sponge on a soggy counter.

It reminded me of Narnia and the constant winter (without Christmas) imposed by the White Witch -- until Aslan returns and brings spring with him.

"And now the snow was really melting in earnest and patches of green grass were beginning to appear in every direction. Unless you have looked at a world of snow as long as Edmund had been looking at it, you will hardly be able to imagine what a relief those green patches were after the endless white."

(C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe)

Late Rent

I concede that I have many character flaws; however, being blatantly irresponsible is not one of them. I pay my bills on time, attend my appointments, and even do my visiting teaching. Thus, I was deeply disturbed when I received a notice in the mail entitled, "Demand for Possession, Non-Payment of Rent." Apparently, for the first time in my life (if my memory serves me right) I forgot to pay rent. Given the cacophony in my brain of late, I'm not terribly surprised. And I'm sure it's cause for great distress when a landlord doesn't get rent. But still -- was it really necessary to threaten to throw me off the manor?! The notice informed me that I "must do one of the following within seven days from the date this notice was served: a. pay the rent owed or b. move out or vacate the premises. If you do not do one of the above, your landlord/landlady may take you to court to evict you." Then there's a big black box in the bottom of the form entitled, "How to get legal help."

(Brief philosophical aside: Why do people so often rush to harsh judgment? My adviser speaks of "generosity of spirit" - a virtue that seems to be desperately needed in our society. It's a beautiful thing when someone gives you the benefit of the doubt -- and usually goes further in encouraging positive behavior and attitudes than threats and punishment.)

I confess that I rushed to harsh condemnation of my landlord after receiving this not-so-friendly-practically-arrest-warrant. In fact, my first response was to write a scathing letter -- which thanks to the better judgment of a friend, I chose not to send. Instead, I enclosed the following poem with my rent check.

Do you think I've just increased my chances of eviction? (Perhaps if I do have to live on the street, I can make a few dollars as an itinerant poet?)

An Ode to Form MCL 600.5714(1)(a): Demand for Possession

I once had a horrible week -
The future was looking quite bleak.
With troubles galore,
and patience no more,
I caused my dear landlord to freak.

My timing for crisis was poor –
(couldn’t be worse, to be sure).
The first day of May?
You’ve got rent to pay!
But all reason went right out the door.

Up till now, I had been a good renter
when I suddenly hit a nerve center.
“Get out the big guns!”
“What if she’s out of funds?!”
cried the boss when the room he did enter.

Swift action is urgently needed,
“Arrest her!” he fervently pleaded.
“This person’s a crook!”
“It’s written here in this book!”
“The deadline for rent’s been exceeded!”

Unaware that I’d made a mistake
and was acting a lot like a flake,
I felt very alarmed
(not a tiny bit charmed)
when the “notice” did cause me to quake.

My rent plus a late fee’s enclosed
-my sin is now fully exposed.
I’ll not do it again.
(Amen and amen!)
And as penance this poem I’ve composed.

Diva-land

I want to be a diva. Correction: I will be a diva. At least that's what my voice teacher, Joann, seems to think. Actually, she would argue till the final curtain call that I am a diva. As for me, I'm still dubious.

For those of you who weren't aware, I have been taking voice lessons for several months now. My friend, Cherice, and I drive 45 minutes to Jackson each Thursday afternoon to shriek like a fire engine and cast off the nice, understated church choir voice that has been trapping the inner diva for all these years. It's remarkably satisfying actually.

Joann is an amazing teacher --more like a coach. She is absolutely convinced that under her tutelage anyone can sing. And she's probably right. Her tactics are a bit unconventional, but I must say, they really work! For instance, she acts utterly unconcerned about whether or not we practice -- but if we should be so inclined, she recommends 15 minutes, twice a day. She's all about stage presence, but doesn't require students to memorize or polish pieces before they perform. (Case in point: at one lesson, I sang a little Dvorak piece for the first time. "That's wonderful!" she chirped, "I'll put you down to sing this at the recital." The recital was in two weeks! And yes, I left all self-respect at the door and shaking from head to toe, performed a most amateur rendition of the Dvorak ditty. No one else could have conned me into such a thing!) Joann steeps us in mental imagery and positive thinking. ("Getting hung up about your mistakes is like driving with your eyes fixed on the rear-view mirror!) Yet, she does not accept mediocrity.

At our lesson today, Joann gave us advice should we ever be asked to sing at a funeral. "Put your music in a black folder so you can hide a copy of the Reader's Digest. You must not talk to or look at anyone until after you sing. In the meantime, you sit quietly in the back reading the jokes in the Reader's Digest until it's time to perform. It's the only way to get through a song at a funeral without falling apart!" Not that I'm regularly asked to sing at funerals -- or anywhere for that matter -- but forewarned is forearmed, I suppose.

And then after some intense coaching involving the gag reflex, I sang a high A-flat!!