Tuesday, June 30, 2020
American election interference in NZ
An American rightwing political group is trying to interfere in the upcoming New Zealand elections, specifically the referendum on cannabis law reform. MPs across the political spectrum have condemned the foreign meddling, which isn’t a surprise. The video above, from TVNZ’s One News, tells the story and features some of the reactions.
The thing is, it’s slick and slimy for any foreigner to interfere with the sovereignty of another country. The US government has done that in the past, and the Russians' interference in the 2016 US elections became notorious, as did their interference in the UK’s Brexit vote and several other European elections.
It’s not clear what the specific ideology of the group is, although they seem to be a far-right pseudo-Christian political organisation, based on the clip featured in the news story. If that's the case, they may very well deny the Russians interfered in 2016, but even if they admit the truth, they wouldn’t be able to grasp why the Russians doing it would be bad—and just as bad for them to do it. It’s wrong in both cases, and their religion doesn’t give them a free pass.
New Zealand doesn’t totally outlaw such foreign meddling—yet—but if the Americans spend money on the referendum, or give it to their “New Zealand” group to spend, it will have to be reported to the New Zealand Electoral Commission. If such money is paid, it would seem that a case could be made that the NZ-based operatives should be required to register as lobbyists, too. None of which is good enough.
In my view, it ought to be illegal under American law to try to interfere in another country’s elections, but that isn’t possible in the current deeply and bitterly divided politics in the USA. So, countries will have to look after themselves.
I believe it ought to be illegal for non-NZ citizens/permanent residents to donate any money whatsoever, directly or indirectly, to any New Zealand election, including referenda. It should be a crime—with a prison sentence and heavy fine—for any New Zealand citizen to accept foreign money to influence a New Zealand election or referendum (money laundering charges might be appropriate in such cases).
New Zealand has already started taking steps to protect New Zealand elections from foreign interference. Late last year, the Government introduced a bill to drastically cut the amount of money that foreigners can donate from the previous $1500 to $50. I think it should be zero, and can’t see any good reason why any contribution from anyone other than NZ citizens or permanent residents should be allowed, no matter how small the amount. However, the Government said it was to avoid trouble with small donations, like when people collect donations on the street or at an event. Maybe that makes the small amount okay?
The bill also banned anonymous online election ads, treating them the same as print and television/radio ads, printed campaign materials, and election signs, all of which must contain the name and address of the person who authorised the ad (which is easy for official ads from parties and real New Zealand political organisations).
“We’ve seen in other countries an avalanche of fake news social media ads that contain no information about who is behind them. That’s not fair and we don’t want to see it repeated here,” Justice Minister Andrew Little said. Indeed.
The law, which came into effect on January 1 of this year, is a very good first step. “We need to protect the integrity of our elections,” the Justice Minister said. “We don’t want our elections to go the way of recent overseas examples where foreign interference appears to have been at play.”
If the law can do something to keep those American meddlers out of our politics, we’ll know the law really works. If not, we’ll need to go farther. New Zealand’s elections ought to be for New Zealanders alone to decide, without foreign interference.
There are actually two referenda on the ballot this year. In addition to the one on cannabis law reform, there's also the End of Life Choice Referendum, I will vote YES on both, and foreign meddlers only make me more determined to vote.
Sunday, June 28, 2020
Weekend Diversion: Songs stuck in my head
There are always songs that we hear and, whether we actually like them or not, they get stuck in our heads—not earworms, necessarily, but songs we connect with for some reason or other. The song might be an earworm, but what makes it stick with us might be the lyrics, the arrangement of the music, the vocals, or even the video, as has so often happened with me. This week’s songs are examples of that, the latter in particular.
The song up top is “Love Someone” by Danish pop and soul band Lukas Graham. The lead singer is Lukas Forchhammer, whose Irish father’s surname was Graham. Forschhammer co-wrote the song.
I first saw the video for this song when it was new in 2018, and fairly often after that. In fact, it’s still played often on the music video channel I watch. I liked it back in the day, and I identified with it, but that took on a whole new, far greater intensity after Nigel died, because of the lyrics. The chorus goes:
'Cause when you love someoneTrue enough, that. These days the final bridge also especially resonates with me:
You open up your heart
When you love someone
You make room
If you love someone
And you're not afraid to lose 'em
You probably never loved someone like I do
You probably never loved someone like I do
All my lifeThat, in a nutshell, is how I felt about my relationship with Nigel. In fact, it still is. That’s probably why I still like it, but nowadays it usually makes me cry.
I thought it'd be hard to find
The one, 'til I found you
And I find it bittersweet
'Cause you gave me something to lose
If I ever heard the song on the radio, it was very rarely. And it wasn’t exactly a chart-topper. It hit 20 in Australia (2x Platinum), 80 in Canada, 27 in New Zealand (Gold), in the UK, it apparently didn’t chart, but was certified Silver, anyway. It also hit 70 in the USA’s Billboard “Hot 100” (Platinum). Clearly it sold well, despite not charting all that high.
The next song is completely different – “Sunday Best” by American pop-fusion band, Surfaces:
The video was originally released in July of 2019, but it became a hit in early 2020 when the song was released in March 2020, which is about the time I first saw the video on the music video channel. When I first saw the video, I had a bit of a “WTF?!” moment, that wasn’t helped when I went to their website and read:
our music exists to spread love and positivity across the world. for those hurting, for those lost, we want every song to be a pathway that can lead anyone to brighter days. we often write our songs in ways that can better relate to the listener, so that they can be serviced by the stories and emotions we hope to capture with our words. [missing capital letters in the original]Okay, then. The thing is, I went to their website originally because I was trying to figure out if they were for real or having us all on with their feel-good, sunshiney popness. Truth is, I still don’t really know, but I don’t care. The song is upbeat, both the music and the positive lyrics. I eventually came to like it, after it was well and truly stuck in my head, anyway.
The song went to Number 10 in Australia (Platinum), Number 8 in Canada, Number 9 in New Zealand (Gold), 36 in the UK, and 19 in the USA (Gold).
Next up, a video that definitely made me go “WTF?!”: “To Die For” by English singer/songwriter Sam Smith, who I’ve shared several times before.
The song and video were released in February of this year, which means I saw it a lot during lockdown. To put it mildly, it is—unusual. The song opens with a sample from the 2001 film Donnie Darko, which relates to the song, but I have absolutely no idea what the singing mannequin head thing is all about. Smith opened a pop-up wig shop in London named after the song about the time it was released. Which doesn’t clarify anything, of course. Still, I liked the song as I have most of Smith’s other songs, but the video definitely gave me pause.
The song hit Number 15 in Australia (Gold), 56 in Canada (Gold), 34 in New Zealand, 18 in the UK (Silver), and 46 in the USA.
Finally, this week a very different song, and one of the most successful I’ve ever shared: “Blinding Lights” by Canadian singer/songwriter The Weeknd (real name Abel Tesfaye).
What I liked about the song was the 1980s vibe that permeates the song, sometimes blatantly, other times less so. I really liked the sound of the song, except for the part where the whole song slows down, like a tape recorder with dying batteries, which was a "WTF?" moment for me, actually. I think that part of the song is silly and adds nothing to the song, though in the video it at least makes some sense.
In any case, the song went to Number One in 32 countries in the world, including all the countries I usually write about: Australia (5x Platinum), Canada (5x Platinum), New Zealand (2x Platinum), UK (2x Platinum), and the USA (Platinum). Rather popular, then.
And that’s it for this week. A real mixed bag of songs by a little UN of artists. All the songs got stuck in my head for a variety of reasons, but they all ultimately got stuck there because of their videos. I’m okay with that.
Stuff turns 20
Stuff's current logo. |
In 2000, I was working for INL (Independent Newspapers Ltd), the company that launched the Stuff website. I was working for the Auckland division that published the Sunday Star-Times and Sunday News Sunday papers, along with the weekly tabloid/gossip paper, NZ Truth, the racing titles Friday Flash, Best Bets, and Turf Digest, along with some magazines, the biggest of which was NZ TV Guide (there was another Auckland-based division that published a stable of magazines).
When the website launched, we were given some swag (which I still have somewhere), and our own internal company site, Our Stuff, which had, among other things, stuff, as it were, about the company and the industry.
Not long afterward, our division was rebranded “INL Sundays” (which, we joked, made us sound like an ice cream shop). The company began internal reviews that resulted in job losses at other divisions, so when it was out turn, my teammates and I joined a union (I mentioned that in a post about unions back in 2014).
Not long after that, in June 2003, the company was sold to Australian media conglomerate Fairfax Media. I transferred to another division shortly afterward (which I’d planned ahead of time), and left the company altogether the end of that year.
In July 2018, Fairfax merged with Australian media conglomerate Nine Entertainment Co. (which had once owned New Zealand TV channel Prime). Nine made it clear it intended to sell its New Zealand assets, by then branded under the “Stuff” name, and that finally happened—after the lockdown—with a management buyout (for “one dollar”). Stuff now owns the Stuff website and all the surviving papers—the weeklies, Sunday Star-Times and the Sunday News, along with daily newspapers Dominion Post (Wellington), Christchurch Press (Christchurch), Waikato Times (Hamilton), plus a bunch of regional papers.
I basically stopped reading Stuff several years ago because so much of its content was shallow clickbait. I returned when the country’s biggest newspaper, The New Zealand Herald put up a paywall because I thought the paywall was a very bad deal, and its existence meant I could never be sure whether the Herald story I saw a link to was free or not, so I just stopped following links to the paper’s website. Instead, I started checking our other New Zealand news sites, including Stuff, among others.
Like most NZ mainstream news organisations, Stuff’s journalism is varied, especially when it comes to covering New Zealand politics, leading some to claim it has a rightward tilt—though not nearly as much so as the Herald. Maybe so—such things are mostly a matter of opinion. However, many of the company’s journalists are very good. For example, I think Henry Cooke is the best political reporter in New Zealand, an opinion I came to after reading his reports on US politics and election campaigns—the first NZ journalist I’d ever seen get it right. Given how complicated and labyrinthine US politics is, anyone who gets that right is bound to do well covering NZ politics, and he has. If only the politics journalists at competing major media companies were half as good, we’d have a decent newsmedia overall.
My connection to Stuff, then, is only that I worked for the corporation that started it, and in an entirely different division and city than where the site was born. Even so, I was keenly aware of its launch, and I relied on it for a long time. Then, it changed, I changed, and then we both did that some more, and now I’m back to checking them out frequently—though not every day. Another thing that’s changed over these 20 years is that I often need a break from all news, and I’m certainly not alone in that feeling.
Here’s to another 20 years of stuff from Stuff.
See also:
“Stuff turns 20: From unwanted child to biggest NZ website, the story of how Stuff grew up” – Stuff
Wednesday, June 24, 2020
Talking about it
Yesterday wasn’t a good day. Most people going through emotional pain won’t say anything. I just did. And that’s the point.
Yesterday morning, Sunny wouldn’t eat, yet again. I have no idea why not, but she didn’t, even though she was acting completely normally in every other way. I still have trouble with frustration, and for some reason, despite being a small frustration, it was a trigger, and I had the biggest meltdown I’ve had in ages.
The sobbing went on for far longer than usual, and my stomach became quite sore. In fact, I stopped mainly because of that, and especially because I was also exhausted. I thought about just going back to bed. I didn’t. I had things to do.
Sunny ate some dinner that evening (and ate normally today), but I had another cry yesterday evening, anyway, that time because I was looking at photos I’ve shared online, all of them showing the good times with Nigel, one way or another. I was also going through some work papers Nigel left behind to see what had to be securely destroyed, and what could just be thrown away. That gave me a particular insight into Nigel’s career, and that made me sad.
My bad day yesterday serves up several reminders. First, if I hadn’t said anything, no one would know I had a bad day. That’s a reminder that we may not know what private hell someone else is going through at any given moment while remaining silent. In fact, I’ve done that most of the time, too.
Another more specific reminder is that dealing with terrible loss and profound grief isn’t a closed-ended process, one with a beginning, middle, and end, but, rather, it’s a process and journey that has no schedule, no set course, one that will take as long as it takes. Along the way there will be good days, and some bad days, some of which may even be very good or bad.
A long time ago in this process I said that no one had to worry about what I say, but only if I stop talking. That was on my mind, too, and I knew I had to say something about my very bad day, if only to keep myself honest. After all, it provided lessons for me, too.
Sure, I had a very bad day, but that’s not what’s important; I’ll have more bad days and others will be good ones, and I may not say anything about either of them. If someone like me, a person who talks openly about what’s really going on in his life, doesn’t always talk about what’s happening, just imagine what others, people unaccustomed to talking about what they’re going through, may endure in silence. Unless someone speaks up, we may never know what private hell they’re going through. We really do need to be kinder and gentler to others, even strangers. That’s my real point.
Because yesterday wasn’t all bad, of course (no day is all good or all bad). Among other things I got the results of my most recent blood tests and they’re all fine. And Sunny did eventually eat. And Leo slept in my lap whenever I sat down. And I got some chores done.
So, yesterday wasn’t all bad, but the parts that were bad were very bad. How many other people around us could say the same thing on any given day? I’ll try to remember this lesson. Sometimes I will, other times I won’t, but one thing I know for sure is that I’ll have bad days again. What I don’t know is whether or not I’ll say anything about them.
This time I did.
Yesterday morning, Sunny wouldn’t eat, yet again. I have no idea why not, but she didn’t, even though she was acting completely normally in every other way. I still have trouble with frustration, and for some reason, despite being a small frustration, it was a trigger, and I had the biggest meltdown I’ve had in ages.
The sobbing went on for far longer than usual, and my stomach became quite sore. In fact, I stopped mainly because of that, and especially because I was also exhausted. I thought about just going back to bed. I didn’t. I had things to do.
Sunny ate some dinner that evening (and ate normally today), but I had another cry yesterday evening, anyway, that time because I was looking at photos I’ve shared online, all of them showing the good times with Nigel, one way or another. I was also going through some work papers Nigel left behind to see what had to be securely destroyed, and what could just be thrown away. That gave me a particular insight into Nigel’s career, and that made me sad.
My bad day yesterday serves up several reminders. First, if I hadn’t said anything, no one would know I had a bad day. That’s a reminder that we may not know what private hell someone else is going through at any given moment while remaining silent. In fact, I’ve done that most of the time, too.
Another more specific reminder is that dealing with terrible loss and profound grief isn’t a closed-ended process, one with a beginning, middle, and end, but, rather, it’s a process and journey that has no schedule, no set course, one that will take as long as it takes. Along the way there will be good days, and some bad days, some of which may even be very good or bad.
A long time ago in this process I said that no one had to worry about what I say, but only if I stop talking. That was on my mind, too, and I knew I had to say something about my very bad day, if only to keep myself honest. After all, it provided lessons for me, too.
Sure, I had a very bad day, but that’s not what’s important; I’ll have more bad days and others will be good ones, and I may not say anything about either of them. If someone like me, a person who talks openly about what’s really going on in his life, doesn’t always talk about what’s happening, just imagine what others, people unaccustomed to talking about what they’re going through, may endure in silence. Unless someone speaks up, we may never know what private hell they’re going through. We really do need to be kinder and gentler to others, even strangers. That’s my real point.
Because yesterday wasn’t all bad, of course (no day is all good or all bad). Among other things I got the results of my most recent blood tests and they’re all fine. And Sunny did eventually eat. And Leo slept in my lap whenever I sat down. And I got some chores done.
So, yesterday wasn’t all bad, but the parts that were bad were very bad. How many other people around us could say the same thing on any given day? I’ll try to remember this lesson. Sometimes I will, other times I won’t, but one thing I know for sure is that I’ll have bad days again. What I don’t know is whether or not I’ll say anything about them.
This time I did.
Tuesday, June 23, 2020
Things need to be done
Things need to be done, which is very annoying. Why can’t those things just wait until we’re good and ready to deal with them? But, no, they demand attention regardless of what we want or want to do. On the other hand, doing things can be really good for a whole bunch of reasons.
Yesterday I mowed the lawns (Instagram photo above). As far as I can remember, it’s the sixth time I’ve done that, though not always been both front and back. For example, in early May (the last time I mowed?) I only did the back lawn, and it had grown a lot since then, the front less so. It needed to be mowed, but not nearly as much as the back lawn.
Sunday night, I assembled some storage shelves for the laundry area in the garage. I’d originally planned on putting a cupboard in the space, but thought a shelving unit with wire-mesh shelves would be better for a place with moisture around than fibre board cupboard would have been.
That space became available for the shelves when I moved the dryer on top of the washing machine. I needed my brother-in-law to help me lift it because it’s a condenser type, which means it’s much heavier than an ordinary dryer. It wasn’t all about making space, though: The dryer needs to be cleaned out all the time, and the exchanger unit thing is at the bottom of the dryer, and there’s a port inside the machine (at the back, of course) that has to be vacuumed out. With the dryer sitting on the floor, the only way to clean all that was to lie down on the floor, which I wasn’t keen on doing, not the least because it’s harder to get up off the floor than it used to be. Creating the space for the shelves was actually a benefit from making the dryer easier to clean.
Those are some things I’ve been doing, things that needed to be done. But the far more important things had nothing to do with the house, or chores.
On Saturday, I went with my cousin-in-law and sister-in-law to the Tamahere Country Market, a monthly thing that’s part farmer’s market, part artisan market (the specific mix varies from month to month). It’s a way of supporting local producers, as well as spending time out. It’s held the third Saturday of the month at the farthest reaches of Hamilton, near Cambridge, all of which is why I’d never been to it before.
Afterward, we went for brunch at a nearby cafe (Instagram photo below), the first time I’d been there, too. On the way home, we stopped at a shop I’d never even heard of, much less been to.
The next day, we all went to the restaurant at an olive farm in Southern Auckland. The family had given me a gift certificate for my 60th birthday, but my hospitalisation last year made it difficult to plan a trip, then Nigel died, and, well, it seemed like there’d just never be chance to use it. So my sister-in-law (the same one from Saturday) organised for us to go before it expired. And, it was lovely.
As I was waking up Sunday morning, in that weird dreamlike state that’s neither asleep nor awake, I thought about the trip ahead, and imagined they’d have beef cheeks on the menu (they’re very trendy right now). The very name grosses me out, and I imagined turning my nose up at it, trying it reluctantly, and even involuntarily making a face as I did so.
When we got there, they did, indeed, have beef cheeks on the menu, so I felt obligated to order them (one simply doesn’t ignore the demands of a dreamlike state). As I did, I briefly made the face I’d imagined—just for my own amusement, to be honest; I don’t think anyone noticed, it was so brief. For the record, it was okay, but I wouldn’t have it again—too strong and even gamey for my liking.
The week before, I’d gone with my cousin-in-law to the house of some friends of hers for dinner. I knew them, though Nigel knew them much better than I did. It was the sort of thing that would have made me feel quite anxious, even if Nigel had been with me, but especially if he’d been unable to go for some reason. Under the circumstances, I could have expected to feel overwhelmed, and the anticipation of that may have me decline the invitation. So, I don’t know why I agreed, but more, why I didn’t feel anxious. In fact, it was a nice evening.
What all these outings have in common is that I was doing unusual things, things I wouldn't normally do, and all in a short period of time. In fact, these days I’m far more likely to agree to doing social things than I ever have been, and that’s not merely because I don’t have to consider anyone else in my household. I don’t know what makes me do social things, when, on the face of it, many of them are well outside my comfort zones.
It’s been going on long enough now that I think this is one of the ways in which I’ve been changed, possibly/probably permanently. It’s not a case of “feel the fear and do it anyway” (I’ve done that in the past, especially when I had to an event with nothing but strangers). Instead, it’s not feeling the fear in the first place. At the moment, I think it’s because I’m so matter-of-fact about life in general, and I just don’t care or worry about things that at one time would have bothered me.
All of that is on top of the day-to-day things I need to do. Mowing the lawns is an example of new chores, one of the things I do know that I didn’t do in the past. Moving the dryer and putting up shelves isn’t in any way unique, because I’ve done similar things all my adult life. What’s changed is the context, because I’m now doing things for myself alone, and to make my daily life easier and/or better.
Things need to be done. Always. But sometimes it turns out that doing things can be really good for a whole bunch of reasons. I don’t think I’m done finding out what those reasons are.
Wednesday, June 17, 2020
My world is still changed
One night recently I was sitting in my chair, the TV on. I closed my eyes, listened to the TV, and remembered the life I had, and then lost. I imagined—saw—the room I’d be sitting in, Nigel sitting at his computer down the hall, and the furbabies would be sleeping near me; I could see it all very clearly. I thought that maybe if I focused strongly enough, if I tried hard enough, if I willed it with all my might, I could make that the world I lived in again. I didn’t want to open my eyes because I knew I’d see my actual reality, not the one I wanted.
I opened my eyes. My world was still changed. And so am I.
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about change, something I’ve seen in abundance over the past 38 weeks. One of the biggest changes has actually been about how I look at change. That figures: I don’t look at anything in quite the same way I did all those months ago.
Change can be something we can help direct (like a career), or it can be utterly beyond our control, like when Nigel died. I think that most people often get the two types mixed up, thinking they can change things they can’t, or vice versa. But there’s also the fact that regardless of what sort of change it is, we can choose how we react to it.
Through all the thinking I’ve done, I came to realise something very important about my future: I don’t have to be happy, I just have to be content. Finding happiness is beyond my control—some people spend their entire lives looking for happiness, never finding it. But the latter? That’s something I can help along.
Which led to my other big realisation: I still have no idea what my new life will be, and it’s possible I never will; it may just happen. But whatever it ends up being, it’ll mostly be because of all this work, big and small, I’m doing to prepare for the years ahead. By doing that, I can achieve the contentment I want, regardless of whether or not I ever feel happy again.
I realised most of that during lockdown, which was a lot harder on me than I let on at the time, meaning it was pretty damn awful. It wasn’t unrelentingly bad—much of it was okay. However, when it was bad, it was very bad. I alluded to some of that at the time, but certainly not all of it.
The first week or two of the lockdown wasn’t too awful, but by the midpoint I was already feeling the strain of being alone (with the furbabies…) round the clock. I was only half-joking when I called it “solitary confinement”, and I obviously knew it was far better than the real thing.
However, as time under lockdown wore on, I felt worse and worse, especially at night. Nights are still the worst time for me, anyway—they’re so quiet, so cold, and so lonely—and have I mentioned how damn quiet they are? There were parts of some days when all I could do was sob, and that might be hard for people who’ve never gone through profound grief to understand. It’s not just that the person we loved is gone—we know that, and yes, it hurts. But the real pain isn’t just because they’re gone, it’s that they’re never coming back. The pain caused by that fact is indescribable.
All of which is why I often felt miserable and hopeless toward the end of lockdown, so much so that I again began to think that I might very well die in my sleep because everything felt bleak, as if my shattered heart not only would never heal, but that it could never heal. It was pretty much just like the first week or two after Nigel died, but the feeling eventually went away when lockdown did.
Over those months of lockdown, I missed Nigel more than I had for quite awhile before that. I really do think my true grieving began when the sale of our house in Auckland was finalised on March 20. That was actually a good thing because I could face all that and work through it.
At the very beginning of this journey, I told a few people that I didn’t want people to think of me as “sad Arthur”, and there may have been times I tried too hard to not seem sad (and I’m fairly certain that I always failed in that effort). Sad is basically what I am right now, and I’m no longer running away from that fact. Instead, I’m focusing on the concrete things I can do to make me feel content, and it turns out there’s a lot I can do.
Last summer I went with family to a T-20 cricket match here in Hamilton, and I had a really good time, all things considered. In November I’m going to Queenstown with family, and I’m sure that will be good, too. Pushing my own boundaries has also helped—not the least because I’m not even sure anymore where they are.
I had a number of victories in recent weeks that helped, and I talked about some last week. Those, in addition to lots of small things (not all of them related to technology), helped in my goal of getting my daily life back to what it was like before this nightmare began, “to restore some of the comfortable aspects of the life I had with Nigel”, as I put it last week.
My biggest project related to finding contentment is preparing for my longterm future, something that’s actually been my focus all along.
I talked with Nigel in his final days about what I would do—it was very important to him that I’d be okay, and he needed to talk about that with me. So, we did. As a result, I decided early on that I’d move to Hamilton to be closer to the biggest concentration of our family, just as we’d always planned. But everything relating to that was actually part of my focus on my longterm future.
In 2024 I’ll reach New Zealand retirement age. I was keenly aware of that before this nightmare began, and, because of my loss, I was aware that I now have to plan for retirement all by myself. And I have been.
I bought a new car to replace my 18 year old one because I figured that if I kept the new one for that long again, I’d be nearly 80—or, I can replace it before then to last even longer, health allowing. But because I can have no way of knowing what my health or physical condition will be like in the decades ahead, I chose a house that’s single level, easy to care for, and relatively low maintenance, all to make it easier on me in the decades to come.
Now, in addition to the “right now” projects, I’m also working on getting some improvements to the house finished so that they’ll all be done well before I retire. We’re not talking about huge things, just finishing the house and gardens so I can relax and feel contented.
All of that—every part of it—is me just putting into motion the stuff I talked about with Nigel. Although we didn’t specifically talk about it in terms of my retirement, and obviously not about what I’d need to do to get some unknown future house ready for it, I realised early on that was exactly what I was preparing for.
The reality, as it has been for more than 38 weeks, is that I desperately miss Nigel, and I cannot imagine a time I won’t. What’s new, though, is that I no longer focus exclusively on that or on my unhappiness. Instead, I’m all about getting to the place where I can feel content, despite everything, and that means continuing my momentum toward the future. Whatever that future turns out to be, it’ll be built on the hard work I’m doing now.
I’ve opened my eyes. My world is still changed, and so am I, but for the first time, really, I’m okay with that.
But I’d still rather not be known as “sad Arthur”. Maybe someday I won’t be.
I opened my eyes. My world was still changed. And so am I.
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about change, something I’ve seen in abundance over the past 38 weeks. One of the biggest changes has actually been about how I look at change. That figures: I don’t look at anything in quite the same way I did all those months ago.
Change can be something we can help direct (like a career), or it can be utterly beyond our control, like when Nigel died. I think that most people often get the two types mixed up, thinking they can change things they can’t, or vice versa. But there’s also the fact that regardless of what sort of change it is, we can choose how we react to it.
Through all the thinking I’ve done, I came to realise something very important about my future: I don’t have to be happy, I just have to be content. Finding happiness is beyond my control—some people spend their entire lives looking for happiness, never finding it. But the latter? That’s something I can help along.
Which led to my other big realisation: I still have no idea what my new life will be, and it’s possible I never will; it may just happen. But whatever it ends up being, it’ll mostly be because of all this work, big and small, I’m doing to prepare for the years ahead. By doing that, I can achieve the contentment I want, regardless of whether or not I ever feel happy again.
I realised most of that during lockdown, which was a lot harder on me than I let on at the time, meaning it was pretty damn awful. It wasn’t unrelentingly bad—much of it was okay. However, when it was bad, it was very bad. I alluded to some of that at the time, but certainly not all of it.
The first week or two of the lockdown wasn’t too awful, but by the midpoint I was already feeling the strain of being alone (with the furbabies…) round the clock. I was only half-joking when I called it “solitary confinement”, and I obviously knew it was far better than the real thing.
However, as time under lockdown wore on, I felt worse and worse, especially at night. Nights are still the worst time for me, anyway—they’re so quiet, so cold, and so lonely—and have I mentioned how damn quiet they are? There were parts of some days when all I could do was sob, and that might be hard for people who’ve never gone through profound grief to understand. It’s not just that the person we loved is gone—we know that, and yes, it hurts. But the real pain isn’t just because they’re gone, it’s that they’re never coming back. The pain caused by that fact is indescribable.
All of which is why I often felt miserable and hopeless toward the end of lockdown, so much so that I again began to think that I might very well die in my sleep because everything felt bleak, as if my shattered heart not only would never heal, but that it could never heal. It was pretty much just like the first week or two after Nigel died, but the feeling eventually went away when lockdown did.
Over those months of lockdown, I missed Nigel more than I had for quite awhile before that. I really do think my true grieving began when the sale of our house in Auckland was finalised on March 20. That was actually a good thing because I could face all that and work through it.
At the very beginning of this journey, I told a few people that I didn’t want people to think of me as “sad Arthur”, and there may have been times I tried too hard to not seem sad (and I’m fairly certain that I always failed in that effort). Sad is basically what I am right now, and I’m no longer running away from that fact. Instead, I’m focusing on the concrete things I can do to make me feel content, and it turns out there’s a lot I can do.
Last summer I went with family to a T-20 cricket match here in Hamilton, and I had a really good time, all things considered. In November I’m going to Queenstown with family, and I’m sure that will be good, too. Pushing my own boundaries has also helped—not the least because I’m not even sure anymore where they are.
I had a number of victories in recent weeks that helped, and I talked about some last week. Those, in addition to lots of small things (not all of them related to technology), helped in my goal of getting my daily life back to what it was like before this nightmare began, “to restore some of the comfortable aspects of the life I had with Nigel”, as I put it last week.
My biggest project related to finding contentment is preparing for my longterm future, something that’s actually been my focus all along.
I talked with Nigel in his final days about what I would do—it was very important to him that I’d be okay, and he needed to talk about that with me. So, we did. As a result, I decided early on that I’d move to Hamilton to be closer to the biggest concentration of our family, just as we’d always planned. But everything relating to that was actually part of my focus on my longterm future.
In 2024 I’ll reach New Zealand retirement age. I was keenly aware of that before this nightmare began, and, because of my loss, I was aware that I now have to plan for retirement all by myself. And I have been.
I bought a new car to replace my 18 year old one because I figured that if I kept the new one for that long again, I’d be nearly 80—or, I can replace it before then to last even longer, health allowing. But because I can have no way of knowing what my health or physical condition will be like in the decades ahead, I chose a house that’s single level, easy to care for, and relatively low maintenance, all to make it easier on me in the decades to come.
Now, in addition to the “right now” projects, I’m also working on getting some improvements to the house finished so that they’ll all be done well before I retire. We’re not talking about huge things, just finishing the house and gardens so I can relax and feel contented.
All of that—every part of it—is me just putting into motion the stuff I talked about with Nigel. Although we didn’t specifically talk about it in terms of my retirement, and obviously not about what I’d need to do to get some unknown future house ready for it, I realised early on that was exactly what I was preparing for.
The reality, as it has been for more than 38 weeks, is that I desperately miss Nigel, and I cannot imagine a time I won’t. What’s new, though, is that I no longer focus exclusively on that or on my unhappiness. Instead, I’m all about getting to the place where I can feel content, despite everything, and that means continuing my momentum toward the future. Whatever that future turns out to be, it’ll be built on the hard work I’m doing now.
I’ve opened my eyes. My world is still changed, and so am I, but for the first time, really, I’m okay with that.
But I’d still rather not be known as “sad Arthur”. Maybe someday I won’t be.
Sunday, June 14, 2020
Weekend Diversion: 5 Seconds of Summer
5 Seconds of Summer, often styled as 5SOS, is an Australian pop rock band that was formed in 2011 when the members were in their mid teens. Their international break came when they toured with One Direction in 2013, 14, and 15. The media called them a boy band, a label they reject (and with at least some justification, even if only because they all knew each other from a young age, and weren’t manufactured). However, their debut major label single, “She Looks So Perfect”, released in February 2014, might give an idea of why critics called them that (video at the bottom of this post).
The first video of theirs that I saw—and so, the first of their songs I was aware of—was “Lie To Me” (above), which was released in December 2018. I thought the video was good, and the song, too, but frankly I didn’t pay all that much attention to it, and I can’t remember if I’d heard of them before then or not.
In any case, the song hit Number 38 in Australia (Platinum), it didn’t chart in Canada, but it still was certified as Gold. It hit Number 9 in New Zealand, 99 in the UK and didn’t chart in the USA. Hitting the Top 10 in New Zealand may be why the video music channel used to play it so much.
The next song, however, did get my attention:
“Youngblood” was released in April 2018. The thing is, I may have seen the video closer to its release, before I saw “Lie To Me”, but I didn’t realise it was 5SOS because they don’t appear in the video.
I really liked the driving sound of the song and the look of the video (the official video was released in August 2018). Wikipedia sums it up this way: It “tells the story of an elderly couple in their final moments (played by Japanese artists 'JOHNNY' Daigo Yamashita and Misaki Aono), having a flashback of their youth which then dives into the Japanese Rockabilly culture.” However, what the couple experienced was clearly not just a flashback. But maybe that’s just a quibble.
The song was far more commercially successful than “Lie To Me” would become a few months later. The song hit Number 1 in Australia (10x Platinum), 3 in Canada on the Canadian Hot 100 (Platinum), Number 1 in New Zealand (3x Platinum), 4 in the UK (2x Platinum), and in the USA, 7 on Billboard’s Hot 100 (2x Platinum).
The song that really made me pay attention to them—and to realise all the videos I’ve shared so far were the same group—was “Old Me”, released on March 6 of this year, specifically, the Lyric Video:
I loved this song, and I thought the lyric video (released the end of February to promote the song) underscored the song very well. The video music channel blurred out the “naughty” words, but they weren’t bleeped out in the song itself. I think, but don’t know, that it may have been provided that way because different videos treat “naughty” words very differently. In any case, I really liked the whole concept of “shout out to the old me” theme, and I thought using photos of the band members from childhood through their youthful selves to today was a good symbolic way of showing them leaving their past behind.
There is, however, also an official video [WATCH], which was released a few days after the song was. It’s nice enough, but I prefer the lyric video. But, what do I know? The official video has five times the number of views on YouTube.
In any case, the song hit 39 in Australia, 3 in New Zealand, didn’t chart in Canada or the UK, but in the USA it was 3 on Billboard’s “Bubbling Under the Hot 100 Singles” chart and 28 on their “Mainstream Top 40” chart. For whatever that’s worth.
Next up their most recent single, “Wildflower”, released in April of this year:
I like the song well enough,—it’s a good pop song—and as with so many of their other songs, I like they way they mix things up vocally. The song hit 12 in Australia, 8 in New Zealand, and 81 in the UK. It didn’t chart in Canada or the USA.
And finally, their breakthrough single, “She Looks So Perfect”:
It is what it is, I suppose, and it’s fine for what it is. But jeez, they were so young then! The only reason I saw this video at all is that when it returned, the video music channel started playing several 5SOS songs, something they didn’t do in the old version of the channel.
I don’t have complete chart information for this song, but it hit Number One in Australia (Platinum), New Zealand (Gold), and the UK. I’d add that this video has had 263,965,913 views on YouTube. That’s rather a lot.
And that’s some songs by 5 Seconds of Summer that eventually got my attention. At least now I’m more likely to recognise new songs by them when I hear them thanks to that revived video channel. That’s not the first time that’s happened, and probably won’t be the last. At least it gives me things to include in these posts.
More cooking experiments
There are times when it’s necessary to find ways to ease boredom, like during the recent Covid-19 lockdown. Other times it’s a good idea to try new things. But it turns out that trying new challenges is also a good way to deal with major life changes. At the very least, it’s something to do, something to fill the time.
During lockdown, I had all sorts of projects, big and small, and I also tried new recipes, and I blogged about all that. All of that has continued into our post-lockdown world. The new recipes in particular, and today’s adventure is about much more than what I actually made.
The photo up top is of an attempt at homemade butter chicken I made today. It’s a dish from the North of India that’s very popular here, and while it’s not particularly good for us, it is yummy. I wanted to try to make it because—well, that’s it: Just because.
Nigel always used to say that he’d never found a butter chicken recipe that was as good as what Indian restaurants made. So when my mother in law found the recipe that Nigel brought back from Australia with him (before we met), I thought that would be a good starting point, and it was. But Nigel was right: It wasn’t as good as restaurant versions.
When I made it the first time last week, I thought it was nice, but I also thought it wasn’t butter chicken. When I went to bed that night, I lay awake and puzzled, as I so often do now, this time about what I could do to improve the recipe. The first thing I thought of was cumin, which wasn’t on the recipe I was given. Then I realised there’s a tandoori taste to the real thing, too. I eventually fell asleep, but, unusually, I also remembered my ideas when I woke up.
When I had the leftovers for my next dinner, I heated it up on the cooktop after adding cumin, and it was definitely better, but still not there. So, I thought about the tandoori part again, and decided to try making my own paste to marinade the chicken in. However, I decided that first I’d try a different recipe with different spices and methods. That’s the one I made today.
The recipe called for the chicken to be marinated in spices and also plain yogurt, which I didn’t have. So, I used milk, since the main point was to surround the chicken in the spices and to keep it moist while it was sitting in the fridge.
There was one spice I’d never heard of: Fenugreek, a spice my usual supermarket didn't stock, even though a New Zealand maker of herbs and spices offers it, and the store had many of the company's other products. I’d read that fenugreek seeds are bitter, and to avoid that they must be dry fried first, then ground, but the more worrying part is that it also turns out it can cause health problems. Still, because I read that the spice added a maple-like flavour, I assumed there must be a way of substituting it.
The substitute I chose was mustard seeds, which I ground in the mortar and pestle. When I added it to the sauce, I added maybe a teaspoon of maple syrup. The result was really good—but not perfect.
So, for the next attempt I’ll try a tandoori paste marinade to see which version I prefer.
The point of all this isn’t what actually I made, but how I got there.
For years I wasn’t particularly interested in cooking, and it was far easier to just make the same things over and over than it was to experiment. The main reason I was reluctant to try to make things was mainly a lack of confidence.
In more recent years, I did start to experiment a bit more, predictably with mixed results. However, when lockdown happened I was bored and looking for different things to do, and cooking was as good as anything else. So, I tried a lot of different recipes, most of which I documented on this blog.
The other thing about all this is that I’ve found myself thinking about how to make things, specifically, what flavours are missing and how I can fix it/improve it, that sort of thing, I’ve never really done that, but Nigel had a natural ability to figure that sort of thing out, and I just assumed I didn’t, right up until I found out that maybe I actually do.
This cooking frenzy is part of a larger thing I’m doing now, namely, doing stuff. During lockdown I learned that keeping busy helped me get through, and it seemed obvious to me that it could help me adjust to this now solitary life, and it’s worked out that way.
It turns out that trying new challenges is a good way to deal with major life changes. At the very least, it’s something to do, something to fill the time. And to get some yummy food, too.
During lockdown, I had all sorts of projects, big and small, and I also tried new recipes, and I blogged about all that. All of that has continued into our post-lockdown world. The new recipes in particular, and today’s adventure is about much more than what I actually made.
The photo up top is of an attempt at homemade butter chicken I made today. It’s a dish from the North of India that’s very popular here, and while it’s not particularly good for us, it is yummy. I wanted to try to make it because—well, that’s it: Just because.
Nigel always used to say that he’d never found a butter chicken recipe that was as good as what Indian restaurants made. So when my mother in law found the recipe that Nigel brought back from Australia with him (before we met), I thought that would be a good starting point, and it was. But Nigel was right: It wasn’t as good as restaurant versions.
When I made it the first time last week, I thought it was nice, but I also thought it wasn’t butter chicken. When I went to bed that night, I lay awake and puzzled, as I so often do now, this time about what I could do to improve the recipe. The first thing I thought of was cumin, which wasn’t on the recipe I was given. Then I realised there’s a tandoori taste to the real thing, too. I eventually fell asleep, but, unusually, I also remembered my ideas when I woke up.
When I had the leftovers for my next dinner, I heated it up on the cooktop after adding cumin, and it was definitely better, but still not there. So, I thought about the tandoori part again, and decided to try making my own paste to marinade the chicken in. However, I decided that first I’d try a different recipe with different spices and methods. That’s the one I made today.
The recipe called for the chicken to be marinated in spices and also plain yogurt, which I didn’t have. So, I used milk, since the main point was to surround the chicken in the spices and to keep it moist while it was sitting in the fridge.
There was one spice I’d never heard of: Fenugreek, a spice my usual supermarket didn't stock, even though a New Zealand maker of herbs and spices offers it, and the store had many of the company's other products. I’d read that fenugreek seeds are bitter, and to avoid that they must be dry fried first, then ground, but the more worrying part is that it also turns out it can cause health problems. Still, because I read that the spice added a maple-like flavour, I assumed there must be a way of substituting it.
The substitute I chose was mustard seeds, which I ground in the mortar and pestle. When I added it to the sauce, I added maybe a teaspoon of maple syrup. The result was really good—but not perfect.
So, for the next attempt I’ll try a tandoori paste marinade to see which version I prefer.
The point of all this isn’t what actually I made, but how I got there.
For years I wasn’t particularly interested in cooking, and it was far easier to just make the same things over and over than it was to experiment. The main reason I was reluctant to try to make things was mainly a lack of confidence.
In more recent years, I did start to experiment a bit more, predictably with mixed results. However, when lockdown happened I was bored and looking for different things to do, and cooking was as good as anything else. So, I tried a lot of different recipes, most of which I documented on this blog.
The other thing about all this is that I’ve found myself thinking about how to make things, specifically, what flavours are missing and how I can fix it/improve it, that sort of thing, I’ve never really done that, but Nigel had a natural ability to figure that sort of thing out, and I just assumed I didn’t, right up until I found out that maybe I actually do.
This cooking frenzy is part of a larger thing I’m doing now, namely, doing stuff. During lockdown I learned that keeping busy helped me get through, and it seemed obvious to me that it could help me adjust to this now solitary life, and it’s worked out that way.
It turns out that trying new challenges is a good way to deal with major life changes. At the very least, it’s something to do, something to fill the time. And to get some yummy food, too.
Wednesday, June 10, 2020
Restorative work
The first screen shot I shared. |
Awhile back, I decided to work on restoring the technological stuff that Nigel set-up for us, and I’ve succeeded with a lot of that. For example, I got our VoIP phone system running, I got our robot vacuum running again, and this week I got our weather station running again. All of that is stuff that Nigel found and maintained for us, and I had little to do with it, apart from using it. That’s all changed now.
A month ago, I said:
Among other interests, Nigel loved technology and was always coming up with new ways to use technology to make our lives better (like the solar powered gate I talked about back in October). He was often changing things so they’d be “better, faster, stronger”, as I sometimes put it to him. He smiled when I said that, with his little cheeky grin that showed me he was in on the joke.
…I was happy to let Nigel tinker away with stuff as much as he wanted to because it made him happy. He enjoyed it so much, and if I’m honest, I felt it was kind of cute how passionate he got about things that many of us would’ve thought of as boring (like a phone system).All of which means that I didn’t need to know about all the technology stuff I used because Nigel took care of it all. I relied on him because I could rely on him. Now I’m learning to rely on myself.
It still surprises me sometimes that I can figure this stuff out on my own, thanks to finding stuff out through the miracle of the Internet, not for the first time (whenever Nigel would wonder aloud about something, I’d say, “If only we had a global network of interconnected computers!” In fact, I still say that).
Along the way, I’ve found out stuff that he either didn’t know or didn’t mention. That weather station is a good example. It has an outdoor module that records temperature, humidity, etc., and the initial batteries would last a couple years (according to the product literature). They eventually failed, and when we replaced them they’d last a few days, a week at most, before going flat. Nigel thought it was because the unit had been in water at one point, but I found out that it’s a known and often complained about thing. Nigel probably did know that, but never said anything, which led me to think he just never got around to fixing the problem.
Nigel bought the system’s rain gauge and wind gauge, but never hooked them up. He 3D-printed some brackets to attach them to posts, but never did. Part of that was because he wanted to fix the problem with the outdoor module, but it was mainly because he’d moved on to two new interests, a video surveillance security system first, then wind turbines to generate power (he wanted to be able to run our computer servers from wind power so our electricity use would be no more than any other household—less, ideally. Before he died, Nigel gave the wind stuff to our brother-in-law because, living on a more rural property than we did, he could use it; Nigel also knew I never would.
So, I set up the weather system’s base unit, and got it working with the App on my phone. Next, I put batteries in the outdoor unit to get it set-up, too, and I later got rechargeable batteries to use in it when the current ones fail. If I was clever at electronics, I bet I could set up a solar system to power it in the day and charge the batteries for the night, but I’m not that clever. Yet.
I also looked at how to get the wind and rain gauges set-up, and I’ll soon get them running, too. It’ll be one of the first technological things where I’ve gone beyond—improved, even—what Nigel left behind.
The security system is a similar thing. Nigel got a system with three wireless cameras, and was so proud of himself because he got it for at most 20% of what NZ retailers charged for the same thing. He always found great deals like that. We only used one camera, pointed toward the front gate, but he had plans for the other two—him having plans to do something is a theme running through all this.
When I was packing up the house I removed the camera and shut off the base unit. The camera batteries had gone flat some time before that—in fact, probably before Nigel died, or shortly afterward. Whatever video that had been recorded was automatically deleted after a few days (as it always is). This was a good thing: Because the camera was off, it didn’t record the ambulance that took him away for the last time, nor the hearse bringing him back or taking him to his funeral. If I’d had those videos, I know I wouldn’t have been able to avoid watching them, and that probably wouldn’t have been helpful.
What all of this has in common is that I was faced with technological challenges because Nigel always maintained the bits and pieces, and I just used them. I got used to using those things, but the bigger issue is that I wanted to restore some of the comfortable aspects of the life I had with Nigel, and the technological stuff we used to have would help do that for me.
What I’ve learned through this is that I can figure stuff out (eventually…) for myself, that I can rely on myself in at least some of the ways I used to rely on Nigel. This was a huge surprise to me, and a really good thing to find out.
I still can’t even imagine what life without Nigel could be, but at least I now know that, as he hoped for a lot in his last couple weeks, I’ll be okay. Regaining some of the technological things we had together will definitely help with that.
It turns out that such restorative work pays bigger dividends than merely getting stuff working again. It gets me working again, too. Win/win.
Monday, June 08, 2020
More normal
New Zealand went to Alert Level One at 11:59pm tonight, which means that in nearly every respect, the country goes back to “normal”.
Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern announced the move today (video above). It’s been a long haul, and we all sacrificed a lot to get here. We lost 22 New Zealanders to the disease, and our economy took a huge hit. However, by emerging from lockdown and getting back to normal so quickly, we have a distinct advantage over other countries that still haven’t beaten the virus.
We were under Alert Levels for 75 days, and 26 under Alert Level 2. The Prime Minister said:
Our lockdown was in place 26 days after our first case, when we had just over 200 cases… Had we not acted, 11 days in to our lockdown we were projected to have 4000 cases. We had 1000 and one of the lowest rates per capita in the world.It’s clear that New Zealand’s strategy of “going hard, and going early”—it clearly worked. It also had huge support from New Zealanders. Still, as the Prime Minister added:
We must remain mindful of the global situation and the harsh reality that the virus will be in our world for some time to come.
We are confident we have eliminated transmission of the virus in New Zealand for now, but elimination is not a point in time – it is a sustained effort.
We almost certainly will see cases here again – I want to say again, we will almost certainly see cases here again – but when that occurs it will not mean we have failed. It is the reality of this virus. We must be and we are prepared for future cases.Will we succeed in avoiding going back to lockdown? There’s no way of knowing that, but we’re well positioned to do it. “This freedom from restrictions relies though heavily on the ongoing role that our border controls will play in keeping the virus out,” the Prime Minister said.
And now, it’s on to what will feel like a new normality, one that we haven’t felt for months. But it will be different: No foreign travel, we’re still advised to keep a record of where we go, and/or to use the government’s App.
Now, we all need to get busy.
Sunday, June 07, 2020
Weekend Diversion: Lizzo
Every once in awhile a pop artist gets my attention, something that’s much more likely when there’s an easy way for that to happen, like the revived music video channel. And that’s how this week’s “Weekend Diversion” came about: I saw a video from someone I’d never heard of before.
The video above is a song called “Juice” by American singer, rapper, songwriter, and flautist (seriously!) Lizzo (real name Melissa Viviane Jefferson ). It wasn’t her music that got my attention at first, but her name: Lizzo is awfully close to “lezzo” a sometime slur that many lesbian I knew had embraced back in my activist days, much as gay men embraced “fag” or, mostly later, “queer”.
As it happens, she’s much more nuanced than any label could allow, having said that binary sexuality is “just not working for me”. However, at least some fans are calling themselves “Lizzbians”, which I personally thought was kind of funny.
That was the route I took to paying attention to her, and I obviously couldn’t help noticing how comfortable she is in her own skin. There’s still a lot of body shaming in the world, but she embraces her body and celebrates it. The song above, “Juice”, is a good example of that.
It was released on January 4, 2019, from her album Cuz I Love You, her third studio album and first major-label release. However, the song wasn’t particularly successful: In Australia it hit 100, Canada 86 (Platinum), New Zealand (not charted), UK 38 (Gold), and USA 82 (Platinum). I just thought it was catchy, and I liked the way the video gently mocked 1980s television.
Next up, another song the video channel was playing at the same time, “Truth Hurts”:
The song was originally released on September 19, 2017, but it took off in 2019 when it became a viral hit. It was included as a bonus track on the deluxe version of her album Cuz I Love You. This song was more successful than “Juice”, getting to 15 in Australia (3x Platinum), Canada was 7 (5x Platinum), New Zealand 5 (Platinum), UK 29 (Gold), and USA 1 (5x Platinum).
One of my favourites of all her videos, also played on that vide channel, is “Good As Hell":
this song also had an earlier release, in this case, on October 7, 2016. It was re-released as a single in 2019, followed by a new video on December 9. The song never charted in 2016, but it did quite well in 2019: Australia 6 (Platinum), Canada 10 (2x Platinum), New Zealand 10 (Platinum), UK 7 (Platinum), USA 3 (2x Platinum). I liked the ong because of its sound, of course, but the lyrics are a sea of positivity about something that isn’t (surviving a relationship break-up), and positive songs always appeal to me. I also like that in the video Lizzo holds a flute, almost as a sly wink.
Finally, “Cuz I Love You”.
The song was originally released on February 14, 2019, and re-released January on 28, 2020. The official music video is above, released last year. There’s a lyric video (below), which is actually pretty good.
I can’t remember hearing the song until I started working on this post, but I like it because of it’s fusion of a big band style and the way it showcase’s Lizzo’s voice, something the other songs don’t do as well: Australia (Not charted), Canada 29 and 44 on radio airplay charts (2x Platinum), New Zealand (Not charted), UK Download Chart 59, USA didn’t hit the Hot 100, but it hit 14 on the “Bubbling Under Hot 100” chart (2x Platinum).
There’s also a YouTube video of her her performing all these songs at the 2020 Brit Awards [WATCH], but I don’t especially like it, mainly because I’m not a huge fan of medleys like that—and because the lyrics were censored. I’m definitely not a big fan of lyrics being censored.
And that’s Lizzo, someone I may never have heard of were in not for the revived music video channel. I’ll continue to make the best of that while I can, but right now it’s time for my hair toss, and to check my nails.
Tuesday, June 02, 2020
Oddaversary
Time was, I commemorated all sorts of anniversaries, important or not, but last week there was one I wasn’t aware of: My “Yahooversary”. There—duly noted. But, there’s always more to the story, of course, even for something odd like this.
What this refers to is that 22 years ago I set up the Yahoo! Mail email address so I could send and receive emails when Nigel I were in the USA for our second trip together in 1999. At the time, the only two free emails services (that I knew of…) were Yahoo! Mail (originally RocketMail until acquired by Yahoo! in October 1997), and Hotmail (launched in July 1996 and acquired by Microsoft in December 1997 and renamed MSN Hotmai, after which it became enormously popular; today it’s known as Outlook.com).
In those days, email addresses were usually provided by one’s Internet Service Provider, and ended if the account was closed. Also, logging into ISP email via the web would be a problem when using Internet Cafés (remember those?) as we planned to do: We didn’t want to potentially give away our log-in details—although, I was usually far more worried about such things than Nigel was.
Today, I still use that email address for this blog, and some mailing lists (so they don’t clog up my personal email or unnecessarily give that address to a business or organisation. It was my first public use of the “AmeriNZ” brand.
And that’s about all I remembered about it. I got the year wrong in 2017 when when I mentioned it in a blog post about the demise of our former ISP; I said it was 1999, when, apparently, it was actually 1998—late May, I assume, from the timing of the “Yahooversary” email, though the other bits are accurate (I think…).
Back in March 2016, I was surprised that I didn’t get a 20th Anniversary anniversary email from the now-defunct ISP, because before its acquisition in 2006, I got them all the time. I’m probably a bit more surprised that Yahoo! chose to send me one at 22 years; I mean, even I wouldn’t single that sort of date out for recognition—although, there was that time I mentioned something for the first time on its twelfth anniversary. Clearly the rules are different for me. Of course.
There was one more odd Internet-related thing that happened. This past Sunday I got an email from Instagram. “We noticed a login from a device you don't usually use,” it said, before telling me it was from “Apple iPod · Mobile Safari · Secaucus, NJ, United States May 31 at 2:45 AM (PDT)”. Clearly that wasn’t me, and I suspect it wasn’t an iPod or in New Jersey (that sort of thing can be faked by professional hackers). Criminals hack accounts to use them to spread spam as part of attempted fraud (among other reasons). I changed my password to ensure my account was safe, but, sadly, that probably won’t be the last time I need to do that with some account or other.
I don’t really care about my “Yahooversary”, and it won’t be taking a turn in the anniversary spotlight, such as that may be, on this blog. But at least I now know what year I really signed up for my first free email service. That’s—um, something, I guess?
In any case, there’s always more to a story, even about odd things like this. Now, it’s on to the next anniversary.
What this refers to is that 22 years ago I set up the Yahoo! Mail email address so I could send and receive emails when Nigel I were in the USA for our second trip together in 1999. At the time, the only two free emails services (that I knew of…) were Yahoo! Mail (originally RocketMail until acquired by Yahoo! in October 1997), and Hotmail (launched in July 1996 and acquired by Microsoft in December 1997 and renamed MSN Hotmai, after which it became enormously popular; today it’s known as Outlook.com).
In those days, email addresses were usually provided by one’s Internet Service Provider, and ended if the account was closed. Also, logging into ISP email via the web would be a problem when using Internet Cafés (remember those?) as we planned to do: We didn’t want to potentially give away our log-in details—although, I was usually far more worried about such things than Nigel was.
Today, I still use that email address for this blog, and some mailing lists (so they don’t clog up my personal email or unnecessarily give that address to a business or organisation. It was my first public use of the “AmeriNZ” brand.
And that’s about all I remembered about it. I got the year wrong in 2017 when when I mentioned it in a blog post about the demise of our former ISP; I said it was 1999, when, apparently, it was actually 1998—late May, I assume, from the timing of the “Yahooversary” email, though the other bits are accurate (I think…).
Back in March 2016, I was surprised that I didn’t get a 20th Anniversary anniversary email from the now-defunct ISP, because before its acquisition in 2006, I got them all the time. I’m probably a bit more surprised that Yahoo! chose to send me one at 22 years; I mean, even I wouldn’t single that sort of date out for recognition—although, there was that time I mentioned something for the first time on its twelfth anniversary. Clearly the rules are different for me. Of course.
There was one more odd Internet-related thing that happened. This past Sunday I got an email from Instagram. “We noticed a login from a device you don't usually use,” it said, before telling me it was from “Apple iPod · Mobile Safari · Secaucus, NJ, United States May 31 at 2:45 AM (PDT)”. Clearly that wasn’t me, and I suspect it wasn’t an iPod or in New Jersey (that sort of thing can be faked by professional hackers). Criminals hack accounts to use them to spread spam as part of attempted fraud (among other reasons). I changed my password to ensure my account was safe, but, sadly, that probably won’t be the last time I need to do that with some account or other.
I don’t really care about my “Yahooversary”, and it won’t be taking a turn in the anniversary spotlight, such as that may be, on this blog. But at least I now know what year I really signed up for my first free email service. That’s—um, something, I guess?
In any case, there’s always more to a story, even about odd things like this. Now, it’s on to the next anniversary.
Monday, June 01, 2020
Leo is three
Today is Leo’s third birthday. Unlike most years, his birthday didn’t sneak up on me this year; they usually do. But the important thing is that he seems happy and content, which is pretty much the aim of furparents.
This birthday is his first since he lost his other daddy. Being a dog, he doesn’t seem aware of that at all, which must be one of the great things about being a dog—though may it just seems that way to me right now. In any case, I doubt he’d have an opinion on it.
I wrote last year:
Since he came to live with us he’s slotted right into the family, providing a lot of entertainment along the way. He was best friends with Bella, but as she got sicker Leo became best friends with Sunny. They still play together every day (Leo and Jake have an understanding…).All of that is still true, though due to Sunny’s recent health problems, I doubt they’ll be playing tug of war any more (a post last week included a photo of them playing back in April). Down below is a photo of Leo sniffing Sunny earlier today (taken right after his birthday photo), who didn't mind. He and Jake still have an understanding.
Leo’s only negative is how much he barks: At any person walking past the house (especially if they have a dog), and also at any truck driving past. But this week I learned something new about that: When I got home after dropping Sunny off at the vet, Jake and Leo greeted me at the door, and there was silence—lots of tail-wagging, but no barking. This was the first time I had any way to know that a lot, maybe most, of the barking Leo does is instigated by his sister.
Barking aside, he really is a lovely little boy—happy, entertaining, and a nice warmer for my lap on these winter days. What I said last year is still true:
Leo’s actually a lot of fun to live with, and is happy all the time. We’re really happy he’s part of the family.Yeah, that’s still true, except that it’s just me now, and probably Sunny (most of the time—see photo below), that are glad, but still. The rest of the family love him too—who wouldn’t?!—and that’s what matters: He’s very loved.
Maybe that’s why he’s so happy all time.
Happy Third Birthday, Leo!
Related:
Leo is two – 2019
Leo is one year old – 2018
Another new addition
Sunny’s bad time
Last week wasn’t a good one for Sunny—or for me. She came through her ordeal very well, and seems to be adjusting to her new reality, though I don’t know that she’s worked out that things have changed for her. That’s probably for the best.
The vet removed a lot of Sunny’s teeth, including all four canines, and a bunch of others. They gave them to me in a plastic specimen jar, but I have no idea what to do with them; throwing them away seems wrong, somehow, but I don’t want to keep them, either.
The vet nurse who rang me after they were done told me that Sunny handled the sedation really well, and woke up quickly. She added, “in fact, I wish they all woke up so well and easily.” All her blood tests were really good, though her in-surgery ECG showed her heart was sometimes adding a beat—like me, she has an arrhythmia, though hers is because of her heart murmur.
When I first brought her home (photo above), she was subdued, which figures: She’d been under general anesthetic and had endured traumatic dental surgery, even though she didn’t know about it. As time passed, she became more like herself, and since then she’s eagerly eaten the (soft) food I’ve given her. She also gobbles down the pills I put into some of her food and feed to her by hand. She’s been really good, in other words.
The vet is concerned about her heart, though, and suggested I put her on heart medication (she said her own dog is on it). It costs about $2 per day, for life, but I have a philosophy about that I’m sure I must’ve shared in the past: She didn’t choose to live with us, so that makes it my duty and responsibility to make sure she has as happy a life as I can give her, for as long as she has a good quality of life. That costs money sometimes, but so be it. It goes with the territory.
The procedure itself was at the higher end of their estimate, and that includes the post-op check on Wednesday. However, they want to check her blood pressure and do an ECG while she’s awake to find out the extent of her heart problems. That costs extra. It is what it is.
So, Sunny endured her bad time really well, and is pretty much her old self again, just less a few teeth.
As for me, I was right in my post last week: Friday was a difficult day. I planned to do some stuff to keep occupied, but all I really managed was to go the supermarket after I dropped her off. I was up late the night before because I knew that if I was tired the following morning, it would be harder for me to dwell on the worry. I was right about that, but not about the possibility of having a nap: It turned out I was too worried to do that.
I cried after I hung up from the phone call telling me Sunny was okay, and that was from profound relief. That was the first time I’d realised exactly how tense and wound up I’d been. When I posted about this on my personal Facebook, I added in the comments:
I hope that continues.
The vet removed a lot of Sunny’s teeth, including all four canines, and a bunch of others. They gave them to me in a plastic specimen jar, but I have no idea what to do with them; throwing them away seems wrong, somehow, but I don’t want to keep them, either.
The vet nurse who rang me after they were done told me that Sunny handled the sedation really well, and woke up quickly. She added, “in fact, I wish they all woke up so well and easily.” All her blood tests were really good, though her in-surgery ECG showed her heart was sometimes adding a beat—like me, she has an arrhythmia, though hers is because of her heart murmur.
When I first brought her home (photo above), she was subdued, which figures: She’d been under general anesthetic and had endured traumatic dental surgery, even though she didn’t know about it. As time passed, she became more like herself, and since then she’s eagerly eaten the (soft) food I’ve given her. She also gobbles down the pills I put into some of her food and feed to her by hand. She’s been really good, in other words.
The vet is concerned about her heart, though, and suggested I put her on heart medication (she said her own dog is on it). It costs about $2 per day, for life, but I have a philosophy about that I’m sure I must’ve shared in the past: She didn’t choose to live with us, so that makes it my duty and responsibility to make sure she has as happy a life as I can give her, for as long as she has a good quality of life. That costs money sometimes, but so be it. It goes with the territory.
The procedure itself was at the higher end of their estimate, and that includes the post-op check on Wednesday. However, they want to check her blood pressure and do an ECG while she’s awake to find out the extent of her heart problems. That costs extra. It is what it is.
So, Sunny endured her bad time really well, and is pretty much her old self again, just less a few teeth.
As for me, I was right in my post last week: Friday was a difficult day. I planned to do some stuff to keep occupied, but all I really managed was to go the supermarket after I dropped her off. I was up late the night before because I knew that if I was tired the following morning, it would be harder for me to dwell on the worry. I was right about that, but not about the possibility of having a nap: It turned out I was too worried to do that.
I cried after I hung up from the phone call telling me Sunny was okay, and that was from profound relief. That was the first time I’d realised exactly how tense and wound up I’d been. When I posted about this on my personal Facebook, I added in the comments:
A postscript: I actually started this update as soon as I got home (I stopped at the supermarket on the way home). I was interrupted twice, first when my sister-in-law called in for a coffee, then when my mother-in-law rang (my brother-in-law also rang me this morning). So, while I’m going through this alone, I’m not *actually* alone.That evening, family came round for takeaways, as we usually did on Fridays before lockdown. So, if things had gone badly, I’d have been supported. I also knew that, of course, and my distress was never about that, but about how badly I felt that Sunny had to go through that, and how much it would have broken my heart if I’d lost her, and so close to losing her other daddy. This time, the story turned out better.
I hope that continues.
Welcome to winter. Again.
Today is the first day of Winter in this part of the world. Yay. It’s also the Queen’s Birthday public holiday, the last one until Labour Day at the end of October. So, bad and good-ish?
I’ve probably never mentioned this on the blog (or maybe once or twice), but I really hate winter. No, I really hate winter would be more accurate. The winters I’ve experienced in Auckland were as bad as I can tolerate, and even then right at my limits. That fact could mean I’m in for a rough time over the next three months.
Many years ago, Nigel and I lived in Paeroa. Compared to Auckland, the winters there were brutal: Cold, even by Northern Illinois standards, but without snow, at least (there were very heavy frosts—ice on the car windscreen heavy—several winter mornings while we lived there). Summers were often hot, too, but it was the winter that was the worst. In fact, our first winter in our house in Paeroa, Nigel and I both wore knit caps to bed to try to keep warm. Very Dickensian, I thought at the time.
Paeroa is in the Waikato, and so is Hamilton. In general, the weather here in Hamilton is usually a bit better than in Paeroa, but it’s more extreme than in Auckland. Hamilton, like Paeroa, has winters that are cold and the summers that are hot when compared to Auckland. It was the winters I dreaded the most.
Whenever Nigel and I talked about moving to Hamilton, which we did a lot, I said it would have to be to a well-insulated house that had air conditioning (heat pumps) installed, double glazed windows, and underfloor heating in the bathroom and ensuite. The only thing I didn’t get in my new house is the underfloor heating.
When I was going through a coat closet while getting ready to move to Hamilton, I ran across a nice, very warm (yet light!) winter jacket that Nigel bought in recent years. I don’t remember if he ever actually wore it (I don't think so), but when I tried it on the first thing I thought was, “I’m going to need this in Hamilton winters.” I’m still sure I will.
The weather has been turning colder (by the standards of the upper North Island) well before today, but also with some warm(er) patches, too. It’s been rainy much of the past couple days, though that’s unlikely to break the drought unless it continues for a few more days. It’s been cold (by the standards of the northwestern part of the upper North Island) in the morning, as low as just above freezing. Today was “warmer”, low to mid teens (low to mid-50s Fahrenheit), but it felt very cold, probably because it was so damp from all the rain.
Cold, rain—that’s winter in this part of the country. I don’t like it any more than the winteres I had growing up, but maybe I hate it just a little bit less. That’s something, at least.
So, bad and good-ish.
I’ve probably never mentioned this on the blog (or maybe once or twice), but I really hate winter. No, I really hate winter would be more accurate. The winters I’ve experienced in Auckland were as bad as I can tolerate, and even then right at my limits. That fact could mean I’m in for a rough time over the next three months.
Many years ago, Nigel and I lived in Paeroa. Compared to Auckland, the winters there were brutal: Cold, even by Northern Illinois standards, but without snow, at least (there were very heavy frosts—ice on the car windscreen heavy—several winter mornings while we lived there). Summers were often hot, too, but it was the winter that was the worst. In fact, our first winter in our house in Paeroa, Nigel and I both wore knit caps to bed to try to keep warm. Very Dickensian, I thought at the time.
Paeroa is in the Waikato, and so is Hamilton. In general, the weather here in Hamilton is usually a bit better than in Paeroa, but it’s more extreme than in Auckland. Hamilton, like Paeroa, has winters that are cold and the summers that are hot when compared to Auckland. It was the winters I dreaded the most.
Whenever Nigel and I talked about moving to Hamilton, which we did a lot, I said it would have to be to a well-insulated house that had air conditioning (heat pumps) installed, double glazed windows, and underfloor heating in the bathroom and ensuite. The only thing I didn’t get in my new house is the underfloor heating.
When I was going through a coat closet while getting ready to move to Hamilton, I ran across a nice, very warm (yet light!) winter jacket that Nigel bought in recent years. I don’t remember if he ever actually wore it (I don't think so), but when I tried it on the first thing I thought was, “I’m going to need this in Hamilton winters.” I’m still sure I will.
The weather has been turning colder (by the standards of the upper North Island) well before today, but also with some warm(er) patches, too. It’s been rainy much of the past couple days, though that’s unlikely to break the drought unless it continues for a few more days. It’s been cold (by the standards of the northwestern part of the upper North Island) in the morning, as low as just above freezing. Today was “warmer”, low to mid teens (low to mid-50s Fahrenheit), but it felt very cold, probably because it was so damp from all the rain.
Cold, rain—that’s winter in this part of the country. I don’t like it any more than the winteres I had growing up, but maybe I hate it just a little bit less. That’s something, at least.
So, bad and good-ish.
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