23 September 2009
I miss paper
I miss getting bills in the mail rather than having to remember another username and password to find out what you owe.
I miss reading poems and stories out of a book. I like holding it in my hand, putting it down for a second so I can grasp the meaning and then bringing it back up to read again. I miss the feel of the paper and the weight of the book. I miss the smell. You don’t get that from a computer screen.
I miss getting information in a handout. Now, when you start at a new college you’re expected to find what you need to know online in a see of virtual pages. You need a user name and password for your email, and another for your account. You don’t get a syllabus anymore. You have to find it in this sea of online pages. There’s a page titled Portal. Another for email. One called Murphy. And one more titled Blackboard. How do I keep everything straight? I miss getting every thing I needed to know in a convenient folder. Here’s how to access your mailbox. Here’s a map of our buildings and a list of accronyms. Your class meets in this room at this time and your instructor is Leslie Miller. Here’s an invoice; send your check to this address.
Yesterday I got a postcard in the mail telling me St. Thomas doesn’t send out bills anymore. It’s all electronic.
Yeah, I really miss paper.
I miss reading poems and stories out of a book. I like holding it in my hand, putting it down for a second so I can grasp the meaning and then bringing it back up to read again. I miss the feel of the paper and the weight of the book. I miss the smell. You don’t get that from a computer screen.
I miss getting information in a handout. Now, when you start at a new college you’re expected to find what you need to know online in a see of virtual pages. You need a user name and password for your email, and another for your account. You don’t get a syllabus anymore. You have to find it in this sea of online pages. There’s a page titled Portal. Another for email. One called Murphy. And one more titled Blackboard. How do I keep everything straight? I miss getting every thing I needed to know in a convenient folder. Here’s how to access your mailbox. Here’s a map of our buildings and a list of accronyms. Your class meets in this room at this time and your instructor is Leslie Miller. Here’s an invoice; send your check to this address.
Yesterday I got a postcard in the mail telling me St. Thomas doesn’t send out bills anymore. It’s all electronic.
Yeah, I really miss paper.
14 September 2009
Beware of Snow Leopard
Yay! There’s a new operating system for Macs. I was ecstatic — until I installed it and couldn’t open either Word or Excel 2004. Seriously?!
So I had to do some digging to discover the problem. Now that I know it, I’m sharing it so that hopefully others don’t spend an afternoon as frustrated as I was.
I got great information at this blog:
http://blog.entourage.mvps.org/2009/09/hot_topics_using_office_for_mac_with_snow_leopard.html
My problem was all font-related.
I had to go to the application Font Book and manually delete all the duplicates. Just turning them off didn’t work.
Then I went to my Microsoft Word font folder and deleted a few specific fonts. Apparently, they are older and mess things up. Delete:
• Andale Mono
• Arial
• Arial Black
• Arial Narrow
• Arial Rounded Bold
• Brush Script.ttf
• Comic Sans MS
• Georgia
• Impact
• Tahoma
• Trebuchet MS
• Verdana
• Wingdings 2
• Wingdings 3
In a perfect world, everything would just work. Bummer we don’t live in a perfect world.
So I had to do some digging to discover the problem. Now that I know it, I’m sharing it so that hopefully others don’t spend an afternoon as frustrated as I was.
I got great information at this blog:
http://blog.entourage.mvps.org/2009/09/hot_topics_using_office_for_mac_with_snow_leopard.html
My problem was all font-related.
I had to go to the application Font Book and manually delete all the duplicates. Just turning them off didn’t work.
Then I went to my Microsoft Word font folder and deleted a few specific fonts. Apparently, they are older and mess things up. Delete:
• Andale Mono
• Arial
• Arial Black
• Arial Narrow
• Arial Rounded Bold
• Brush Script.ttf
• Comic Sans MS
• Georgia
• Impact
• Tahoma
• Trebuchet MS
• Verdana
• Wingdings 2
• Wingdings 3
In a perfect world, everything would just work. Bummer we don’t live in a perfect world.
10 September 2009
Something good from something bad
I still remember one of the worst mistakes I ever made as a journalist for the STAR newspaper in Cambridge. It happened in the winter of 2001. A home outside Cambridge caught fire because a methamphetamine lab burst in the garage. The homeowner, a J. Siems, faced several meth charges. At the time, meth busts were happening every week and this was a big deal.
Now, I knew a J. Siems. Jason Siems had been my sister’s neighbor a few years earlier.
When I typed the story, instead of writing about James Siems, the homeowner where the meth lab was found, I substituted the name I knew: Jason.
When the story printed it was not a good day in our newspaper office. Jason’s wife called, she yelled, and threatened to sue. I felt terrible. Absolutely terrible. I knew Jason, and he was a nice guy. I didn’t need a potential lawsuit hanging over my head to feel guilty. We printed a correction, of course, in our next edition, but I never shook feeling terrible about what happened.
Fast forward to 2009. Jason Siems has accepted a job working at the main desk at the college where I’m now teaching. I’ve gone through the summer without running into him, but as soon as school starts I need his help. He says, “I know you, don’t I?”
“Yeah, you used to live in the same duplex as my sister,” I reply, hoping he doesn’t remember how else he knows me. He remembers.
“And you used to write for the STAR newspaper, too, right?” He asks. “You wrote that story about my brother and the fire at his place.”
“Yeah, I did,” I say, ducking my head in shame. “How is your brother doing?” I didn’t expect to hear anything good; meth is a hard habit to break and has destroyed many lives.
“He’s fantastic,” Jason replied. “He’s doing great. He’s off the drug. We laugh about what happened now.”
“I still feel terrible about what happened,” I interject.
He continued, “In fact, we speak together to groups about his addiction and how it affects the entire family. You know, if you hadn’t written that story and accidentally used my name, we wouldn’t be able to do that.”
Amazing. Something good, you could even call it wonderful, happened because of a mistake I made. A weight I hadn’t even realized I had been carrying for years fell off my back. I felt a hundred pounds lighter. My mistake enabled two brothers to reconnect and to share their story. Perhaps they had saved another from making the mistakes James had made.
It is true. Something good can come of a mistake.
Now, I knew a J. Siems. Jason Siems had been my sister’s neighbor a few years earlier.
When I typed the story, instead of writing about James Siems, the homeowner where the meth lab was found, I substituted the name I knew: Jason.
When the story printed it was not a good day in our newspaper office. Jason’s wife called, she yelled, and threatened to sue. I felt terrible. Absolutely terrible. I knew Jason, and he was a nice guy. I didn’t need a potential lawsuit hanging over my head to feel guilty. We printed a correction, of course, in our next edition, but I never shook feeling terrible about what happened.
Fast forward to 2009. Jason Siems has accepted a job working at the main desk at the college where I’m now teaching. I’ve gone through the summer without running into him, but as soon as school starts I need his help. He says, “I know you, don’t I?”
“Yeah, you used to live in the same duplex as my sister,” I reply, hoping he doesn’t remember how else he knows me. He remembers.
“And you used to write for the STAR newspaper, too, right?” He asks. “You wrote that story about my brother and the fire at his place.”
“Yeah, I did,” I say, ducking my head in shame. “How is your brother doing?” I didn’t expect to hear anything good; meth is a hard habit to break and has destroyed many lives.
“He’s fantastic,” Jason replied. “He’s doing great. He’s off the drug. We laugh about what happened now.”
“I still feel terrible about what happened,” I interject.
He continued, “In fact, we speak together to groups about his addiction and how it affects the entire family. You know, if you hadn’t written that story and accidentally used my name, we wouldn’t be able to do that.”
Amazing. Something good, you could even call it wonderful, happened because of a mistake I made. A weight I hadn’t even realized I had been carrying for years fell off my back. I felt a hundred pounds lighter. My mistake enabled two brothers to reconnect and to share their story. Perhaps they had saved another from making the mistakes James had made.
It is true. Something good can come of a mistake.
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