You never believe it’ll ever happen until it does, and it happened last night (I think): My Mac is fried. There I was, stealing a moment to examine photos of the Great Game Robbery when the screen froze and would not unfreeze, and a hard restart only produced a status bar that resets twice, then quits again. Tried this approximately 10 times with the same result every time.
I’m thinking it’s a motherboard or something similarly vital. Given the age of all involved, I’m also thinking I’ll be shopping for a new laptop in a few hours. I did a backup recently, all my reallyreallyreally important data — writing projects in progress, etc. — is doubly backed up in the Cloud, but I’ll probably lose a few passwords or snapshots here and there.
Let that be a lesson to you. Back up your data. Twice.
So this will be it for me today. Maybe a little bloggage:
Over the years in Indiana, I was aware of what happens at graduation time in Fort Wayne high schools — commencement ceremonies tend to be protracted, testy affairs for all involved. No matter how often principals plead from the stage to hold applause until all graduates have crossed the stage, the reading of names is marked by screeching, air horn-blowing knots of bonehead parents and relatives in the audience, who pride themselves on mini-filibusters of noise as their kid’s name is called, which necessitates long pauses, so the next kid’s name doesn’t get drowned out and/or his own jerkwad parents deprived of their own celebration. The hooliganism has gotten so bad that diplomas aren’t actually physically transferred until the crowd files out, so that any kid who isn’t wearing a mortar board — i.e., the hat-throwers — has to schedule a conference with principal and parents, one last stern lecture, before taking possession.
Like I said, I guess I was aware of this, via the annual letters to the editor and the annual statements by principals, but I hadn’t realized just how bad it was until I stumbled across a guest column in my old newspaper — which, I recently learned, now has one-third the circulation of the other paper in town — by one of the school district’s PR warhorses, floating a trial balloon that, because of the thoughtlessness of the few, maybe they won’t hold any commencement ceremonies at all, and I hope you get that this sentence is a weak attempt to capture the voice the school disciplinarian. But let her do it herself:
Although state law determines who is eligible for a diploma, there are no laws governing how that diploma is to be presented. Indeed, “Pomp and Circumstance” is not required music. Caps and gowns are not legislated attire. There is no requirement for schools to rent at their expense a facility for the event or hire security for crowd control. There is no legal requirement for schools to pay for embossed diploma covers in school colors. There is no requirement for schools to have a graduation ceremony. Has the time come to drop commencement exercises and mail diplomas home or hand them out in home room?
Such a move would be so unpopular I’m taking this as another empty threat from the stage. Still, there’s some good detail there, including this — that Bobby Knight recently received an honorary doctorate from Trine University, and showed up in an open-neck shirt and a sweater. Why? Because he’s Bobby Knight, and you’re not. And what is Trine University? You say you’ve never heard of it? Well, it used to be called Tri-State University, and changed its name two years ago. Trying to class up the joint, I’d imagine. I wasn’t aware they granted doctorates, period, but I guess when the degree is honorary, it doesn’t matter. In that part of Indiana — hey, Pilot Joe, Jen and many others here — they could have named him Philosopher-King and gotten away with it.
Off to the Genius Bar, there to weep and/or spend money.