Fandango’s Flashback Friday: January 28th

Fandango’s Flashback Friday: January 28th

Wouldn’t you like to expose your newer readers to some of your earlier posts that they might never have seen? Or remind your long term followers of posts that they might not remember? Each Friday I will publish a post I wrote on this exact date in a previous year. How about you? Why don’t you reach back into your own archives and highlight a post that you wrote on this very date in a previous year?


This post was published January 28th, 2019. Interesting follow-up fun fact – but perhaps more of a personal lightbulb moment…kids everywhere who passed those notes have all grown up and now use email. Anger is highlighted in red. Rumors and character assassinations run wild. Weekends and holidays are no exception. Boundaries disappear. They can still be a gut punch.

So goes a very short rant-of-the-day from my current life as a condo board member. It’s time-consuming, emotionally draining work and eerily reminiscent of times past. Bullies at 70 are just as awful as bullies at 12. On paper and in person. Which is why I have neglected my favorite place here on WP. Who knew that middle school (learning!) experiences like this would be called upon now…


Pass That Note

This post inspired by Ragtag Daily Prompt: Note

I saw a note that Gail wrote
& it says she hates me…

I don’t know if you’re mad at Gail but I am…

When did I first run headlong into notes?
At that awkward will-I-fit-in-say-the-right-thing-avoid-exclusion-at-all-cost stage that characterized my middle school years in the 1960’s.

When successfully passing notes was a prized achievement. A right of passage. If you didn’t get caught.

Notes directed the intense undercurrent of a girl’s ever shifting social hierarchy. They could make or break your day at school.

Scrawled on lined notebook paper. Ripped out of 3-ring binders. Torn into halves. Or quarters. Hastily folded as small as possible. Then..slipped to a friend. Or potential friend. Or some kid sitting at a desk on the way to the note’s intended recipient.

With one eye on the teacher, who with chalk in hand might not turn towards the blackboard as quickly as you think. Who might snatch the wrinkled piece of paper. Which held the potential key to your social future. And then, horror of horrors, read it out loud. So everyone would hear…

Are you mad at me?
Write down yes or no.
Check next to these names…
Do you like them or not?

Or worse, if the note was for you…
From the girlfriends you just had a sleepover with…

We have decided that you are not our type.
Please don’t hang around with us that much. 
You can if you want….Every time
we look at you you are reading. I know you
like to but not every second. Don’t hang around
that much anymore.

Elaborate codes were devised

I’ve always wondered…why? Why did girls jostle for position in such cut throat ways? Which is probably why I saved a few notes for 50 years. Thinking I’d figure it out. I have not. I still have no clue.

Except I am grateful there was no Facebook when I was struggling to fit in. No Instagram. No social media.
Notes would have followed me everywhere.
Day and night.
I can’t imagine.

Notes on wrinkled paper were thrown away. Or stuffed in a drawer.
Only public for an agonizing minute if the teacher recited them in front of snickering classmates.

Then the bell would ring.
And out the door I’d go.


cable hokey pokey

Instead of “Breaking News” (as we now call World News Tonight with David Muir, because it is always news that is always breaking), the dreaded error message appeared a few nights ago on our television…

V58 channel not authorized

Blue screen – on every channel. And cause for blood pressure to rise…once again. Do Not Want To Call Comcast. Or TiVo.

But, as the kids say, this isn’t my first rodeo.

Step One: Breathe

Step Two: Turn off TV and turn back on. (this usually fixes everything electronic as if it reminds the device what it’s supposed to do)

(if Step Two doesn’t fix it – which it didn’t, you need Step Three)

Step Three: Find file marked TiVo and retrieve ongoing scribbled log dated back to 2012. Also find file marked Comcast, which is much thicker, but only goes back to 2015 due to downsizing.

Step Four: Review notes from TiVo and Comcast files –

TiVo file (9/2014): error V53 blank screen – called and spoke to Zach. Solution – unplug power, unplug internet. Wait (how long is not noted)…plug in power, turn on TiVo & let it dance around and load itself (those of you with TiVo will know what I am referring to). THEN plug in internet. Go to settings, connect to internet…and….do it all again. The hokey pokey! Success.

TiVo file (9/2015): error V53 blank screen  – did NOT call this time (sorry Zach), but followed Zach’s method of plugging and unplugging and dancing around….but now(!) connect to internet is called connect to TiVo service. Success!

TiVo file (10/2017): error V52 no signal above channel 840. – tried procedures from 2014 and 2015…no luck. Restarted box again. Nope.

But wait!! Cross reference to the Comcast file log from 2015*…

*Comcast file (2015): phone call with Kevin. If “it” (cable screw-ups) keeps happening, he told me “unplug the coaxial cable from the modem, touch the needle with your finger & blow on it to reduce the static and plug it back in.” He assured me he “heard that from someone.”

Say what?????

Back to TiVo file of 10/2017…

So I “unplugged coaxial cable from TiVo box – blew on it (yes, blew on it), tapped it with my finger…waited a minute…re-connected…all fixed.”


So now it’s May 2018 and, after careful study of my intricate cable repair history, I skipped Zach and went right to Kevin. Do not have time for the hokey pokey. The hokey pokey would result in missing the first half of breaking news.

Deep cleansing breaths.

And then… I unplugged – actually unscrewed – the coaxial cable from the TiVo box – blew on it, tapped it, re-screwed/plugged it in and…

Presto!! Like magic (without even having to tap my heels together 3 times) there’s the news breaking before the first commercial for the latest arthritis drug.

It is time for another entry into my Comcast and TiVo logs of nonsense.

May, 2018: error V58 channel not authorized. Kevin, you will always be my hero ♥!




to thank or not to thank

Apparently it is rampant. Not thanking people.

The advice columns in our local newspapers regularly cover this topic. My grandchildren never let me know they got my Christmas presents....My son/daughter/grandchild doesn’t thank me for the checks I send…I sent my niece a graduation gift and I never heard anything about it. And so on…

The advice usually involves allowing consequence such as don’t send any more gifts! or just send a card. I think I like that second one.

I would love to say I don’t experience this, but sad to say I do. Not with grandchildren (after all he is not yet 2 years old); but with adult relatives who know how to spell and put a sentence together – nieces, nephews, in-laws – and yes – adult children at times as well. Now, I am not expecting engraved or embossed thank you notes written with perfect penmanship (the shock might kill me). Or even ink. Printed with pencil would work. I’d take a postcard. Even postage due. What bothers me the most is that these family members, who I care about deeply, come across as entitled and ungrateful. I don’t like thinking of them that way, because I know what good people they are.

In this day and age of all things digital, an email, e-card or even a text message would be better than nothing. Knowing what little effort it would take to let me know they received/appreciated/liked or didn’t like what I shopped for, wrapped and mailed…the lack of effort speaks volumes. And it makes me sad. Sad for them as well because I imagine this is how they also present themselves to the world.

As I get older, time is shorter. It gets more and more precious. So I ask myself: Do I need to spend my time on people who won’t take 2 minutes to say “thank you” in some way, shape or form? I think not. I was once told by a family member that geez most people these days have never sent thank you notes to family.  Really? What kind of reason is that? Doesn’t make it right and harkens back (in a weird way) to the old “if she jumped off a bridge, would you do it too?”  Think about it – your family is, well, your family — why wouldn’t you thank them in a special way? If not in a special way, then in some way.  There is absolutely no down side.

So there’s my small rant for the day. Sounds like anger, but underneath it is mostly hurt. I am grateful I was raised to acknowledge gifts no matter how small. And that I took it to heart, learning how important it was and is. So were my siblings; who, by the way, always thank me – in writing.


My “lessons” began shortly after I learned how to print…

1961 note009
age 7