Spam, spam, spam, egg and spam

 It is an annoying part of modern life to have to deal with digital fraud.  Via email, web pages, and texts, fraudulent messages are a ubiquitous part of daily routine.  My workplace, a major university, has a longstanding program to inform and test employees on their fraud awareness.  We must take a training course to recognize internet phishing, smishing, and other types of evil.  And the standard web mail client has a built-in button to report suspicious messages to the university IT Department.  On most occasions that I use it, it quickly turns out to be a fake, test message from the IT department itself.  Just to keep us on our toes.  But last week when I reported an obviously fake message, the IT guys soon reported back that it was legitimate fraud, and so I may have prevented a cyber attack on the university's network.  Or at least saved myself some hassle by avoiding a computer virus.  Then just this morning, I received a poorly written and suspicious text message to my phone which was supposedly from the USPS.  Similar messages are common enough to have their own Snopes page.  But I easily recognized the deception, reported it the US Postal System Inspection Service, and deleted it off my phone without replying or clicking any links it contained.  Try again, internet crook scumbags!

Where's George?

 Such is the randomness of life, that I recently returned to a pastime I had enjoyed many years ago.  More than a decade ago, probably.  That is the practice of maintaining an account on Where's George, a currency tracking web site.  The idea was to gain amusement by entering the serial number of bills of paper currency as they pass through your hands.  Then, if other web site members also log them in when they obtain them, the site would report that event to you, with info on the bill's location, time of travel, etc.  I participated in this for a few months many years ago, but never had a bill registered after I did.  It seemed like an interesting effort, but participation in it is apparently low.  Nonetheless, this morning I entered the numbers from some bills in my pocket.  Once I spend them, I will hope that they pass into the hands of another Where's George member, and I'll be notified of it.  We'll see.  Stay Tuned.

Speaking of anachronistic futility, National Letter Writing Month concluded yesterday.  After sending a daily letter throughout the month to family and friends, I received precisely two in reply.  So the age of written correspondence is clearly waning.  But in an odd way, I derive some encouragement from this sad ratio.  Being able to compose and send a written letter makes me exceedingly rare, and perhaps even special.  That's what I'm going with, anyway.  So too, this Where's George project.  It can be no surprise that most people won't take time out of their day to type in a serial number from a dollar bill to see where it might have come from.  But compounding that problem is the fact that fewer and fewer people even carry or use cash in their daily lives.  Less than 14% of people report using cash for most of their purchases these days.  And while a majority of Americans say they carry cash on a daily basis, this is closely linked to the person's age and younger Americans are much less likely to carry cash at all.  So I won't get my hopes up about scoring a hit on Where's George.  But I'll let you know if I do.

Happy Birthday Anthony!

 Today is the 209th birthday of one of my favorite authors, Anthony Trollope.  Yes, on April 24, 1815, Trollope was born in London.  A contemporary of Charles Dickens, he would never match Dickens' fame, but Trollope was a respected and popular author in his own right.  What's more amazing, he was a prolific writer while continually holding down a day job with the Royal Mail.  In fact, Anthony Trollope was responsible for the design of the familiar English pillar box postal collection container.  But mainly, he is known for his multitude of novels that examine class struggle, politics, and labor conditions of the Victorian age.  Among his many novels, my favorite is Doctor Thorne, which encompasses all these familiar themes, overlaid by warnings against the excesses of alcoholism. During a 2019 trip to London, I visited Trollope's grave in Kensal Green Cemetary, and there gave him my thanks for the many hours of enjoyment I've derived from his work.  Happy Birthday, Anthony!

STFU

 To mark just-concluded National Book Day, late night host Jimmy Kimmel shared these wise words from real librarians.  As a resident of a twisted, misguided state that seeks to criminalize the actions of librarians - librarians - I am embarrassed for the right-wing nutjobs who see information as a threat to their lives.  I hope some day these sad, sad people at last realize that mere ideas aren't a danger to their well being.

The Secret Life of Nostalgia

 At my age, a fond remembrance of the past is natural and understandable.  And it occurred again just days ago, when I discovered that a favorite television series of mine from the late 1980s is available to view on YouTube.  The show was called The Secret Life of Machines, and featured Tim Hunkin and his sidekick Rex Garrod.  In the three seasons of the show, Hunkin explained the basic working principles of common, everyday items we all use.  The automobile, the vacuum cleaner, the refrigerator, the television.  And so on.  Delivered in a charmingly unpolished and casual style, using clever but simple demonstration devices, and peppered with delightfully crude animated sequences, Hunkin conveyed the principles of all the machines we use without thinking about, and have never considered the history that led to their present day form.  I loved watching the show on my local PBS television station over 30 years ago, so I was thrilled to recently learn that Hunkin has himself released all episodes of the show in remastered form on his YouTube channel.  And following each episode, Tim himself makes a few comments about what went into filming that episode, or what has become of the technology over the past decades.  I'm now working my way through all the episodes and enjoying the memories that have come flooding back.

Weeks, not months

 As an avid fan of postal mail, I have traditionally held a positive opinion of the US Postal Service.  With its long and interesting history, it is now by far the largest postal system in the world.  Over 44% of the world's mail is processed by the USPS, and in 2022 the USPS delivered 127.3 billion (B, for BILLION) pieces of mail.  As an active postal customer for decades, I have recently seen delivery performance drop off noticeably.  Most obvious is my weekly typed letter to my mother, which I typically write on Sunday evenings, and is a sort of regular weekly update on my life.  Mailed on Monday morning from central Alabama, it would reliably reach her in suburban Chicago on Thursday.  Used to, anyway.  After a couple years of semi-annual rate hikes, the delivery performance has slowed considerably.  My letters now arrive on Friday on a good week.  The following Monday is quite common.  And parcels that I order from online stores that have tracking info clearly reveal the disgraceful state of USPS Priority Mail service.  This was once advertised as "2-day" service and usually lived up to the promise.  Now days, it's commonly four or five days.  Then, to further accentuate the decline, today I received a postcard sent to me by a relative from their vacation to the US Virgin Islands...that they mailed the week before last Christmas.  I'm not the only one who has noticed the abysmal state of mail service in this country.  Two days ago, USPS Postmaster General Louis DeJoy appeared before a congressional hearing to explain the poor performance of the service he oversees.  At the Senate hearing, Sen. Jon Ossoff (D-Ga.) excoriated Trump appointee DeJoy about his poor performance.

"You don't have months to fix 36 percent of mail being delivered on time," Ossoff countered. "I've got constituents with prescriptions that aren't being delivered. I've got constituents who can't pay their rent and their mortgage. I've got businesses who aren't able to ship products or receive supplies."

While I recognize few people today use the USPS for actual personal correspondence, it still provides a vital service for delivering documents and parcels to all parts of the country.  And as dismal as things may be right now, it could be worse.  But I certainly hope congressional pressure will drive DeJoy to improve the situation, or failing that, remove him and replace him with someone who can.

Taste of the Masters

 I'm not much of a golf fan, but when I was invited to a Masters Golf Tournament party this past Sunday, I couldn't pass up the chance.  You see, the party would feature a Taste of the Masters kit, which features all the traditional fare from the actual golf course food kiosks over at Augusta National Golf Club.  It is a famously quaint feature of these food vendors that their prices have not increased in decades.  So the tournament spectators this weekend (they are pointedly called "patrons" by the club) could nibble on a Southern classic pimento cheese sandwich for just $1.50.  Astonishingly inexpensive, as major sporting event venues go, these days.  So while I tackled my steep golf learning curve, I nibbled on delicious sandwiches, caramel corn, and potato chips, just as the patrons at Amen Corner were doing on a beautiful Sunday afternoon.

Eclipse this

 I live in a part of the country where we expect only about an 85% eclipse of the sun.  Add to that some increasing high clouds just as the eclipse began, and it's not a terribly impressive event around here.  But I did notice on my home weather station that the sun and UV sensor did record the event.  You can see the dramatic drop-off of both as the eclipse reached its peak at 2 pm, local time.  So far, no dramatic consequences of the moon moving in front of the sun.  No outbreaks of zombies, or other catastrophes.  Just an odd mid-day reduction in the sky's brightness.

Lost in the mail

 I begin to suspect there may be a problem with wider participation in National Letter Writing Month.

Oh, hail!

 Springtime in central Alabama means strong storms, occasional tornadoes, and the potential for large hail.  Last night, all three were in the forecast, so it was time for me to deploy my vehicle hail protector, or as my wife calls it, the "bounce house".  Since I haven't yet figured out how to fit three cars in our two-car garage, my daily driver Chevy Malibu stays outside.  I have a cover that protects it from damaging UV rays during the weekends when I don't drive the vehicle, but last night more was required.  Thus, Hail Protector.  This is basically a two layer car cover, with a fan that blows air between the layers to create a cushion that protects against falling hailstones.  After some time spent to assemble the device and learn how to efficiently install it, I can now deploy it in about 15 minutes.  So last evening, I had it in place before the expected storms.  It turned out to be a false alarm, and fortunately there was no severe weather in our area.  But should the risk of damaging hail again loom, I will be ready with my bounce house.