Category: Technology


I described the transient ischemic attack (TIA), arriving like a freight train and departing before dawn (see I Am Dying). Instinctively, I knew this was a warning shot, an enormous detonation. As a former medic, I knew of strokes. I now understand a lot about TIAs but knew nothing relatively several years ago. There are moments when I felt as though I am the only one taking it seriously. Getting medical professionals to understand a patient’s concern can be challenging. A Stroke Association survey concluded 16% of TIA victims didn’t feel taken seriously, and 25% reported that health professionals didn’t realize that they had had a TIA. If a TIA occurs, the patient is likely to be prescribed aspirin, receive a pat on the shoulder, and an escort out the door with a recommendation for a further clinical study. 

Unlike my father, I consider my events with mixed emotions as my cognitive skills and memory were not affected during the October episode. Still, research suggests more TIAs are in my future. Some patients realize they had suffered a TIA when reading medical notes with no clinician confirmation of the diagnosis. My experience was similar, as I read my tumor diagnosis via an online patient visit summary posted 21 months ago. Only when pressed did I confirm ‘prognosis was poor.’

TIAs are hard to diagnose. Symptoms vary. Facial weakness, drooping mouth, arm or leg weakness, speech difficulty, blurred vision, and dizziness can occur. Each TIA tends to be specific to the individual, and not all symptoms arise. Initially, my neurologist kind of dismissed my concern. Should the TIA occur again, ‘… we’ll review.’ However, out of caution (since I kept asking inquisitive questions), ‘we’ll schedule an echocardiogram.’

Upon arrival, the echocardiologist greeted, “You’re here today for an echocardiogram because your doctor diagnosed you experienced a TIA.” “Fantastic,” I quipped. Forty-six days later, it was the echocardiologist who stated the obvious, something I already knew but couldn’t receive confirmation. Undoubtedly someone will ask how I know when everyone else cannot. After completing the medical summary (discussed in the post Lists), my intrinsic gut feeling became clearer. My first TIA occurred in March 2019, with loss of vision, foggy sight. Although I improved throughout the following day, the impact lasted three days. My second TIA occurred in May 2019, with left side facial paralysis and mouth drooping. The effect lasted six days. During the third week in October 2020, my third TIA produced no coordinated functionality in arms or legs, no balance, could not stand, unable to lift myself, foggy. The impact was significant and lasted over six days. Should something in the heart be amiss, an echocardiogram will help detect cardiac sources of stroke or TIAs.

The echocardiologist performed a transthoracic echocardiography (TTE) using an ultrasound imaging technique that allows the heart structures to be seen. A hand-held wand placed on the chest provides pictures of the heart’s valves, chambers, and helps the clinician evaluate the heart’s pumping action. It was a ‘matter of fact’ test procedure. A ‘no biggie’ I’m told. ‘Good I thought. At least I didn’t hear, ‘I’m not used to this version of the software. Do you know what this message [Not Currently Recording] means?’ Results come in a week.

Wait another week? I envision doctors talking after my death, “He was in his usual state of humor — right up until his heart quit. Damn. That’s gotta suck.” But here I am. Two days post test, I am still alive. Still kicking. The Chinese Book of Changes (I Ching) states, ‘Waiting is not mere empty hoping. It has the inner certainty of reaching the goal.’ Goal? I have no plan. At this point in my life, if I had dreams, they were created by comedian George Carlin, “… get up, work eight hours, eat three meals, take one good shit and go back to bed.” The mind hates uncertainty, and living in a state of “not knowing” is intolerable.

To understand how inharmoniousness waiting is, I remember working in the emergency room one night listening to one friend comforting another. “You know, Mike; we give ourselves no credit for taking time to be present. The doctor’s said there’s just a few others ahead of you. How about if we pass the time thinking of things we can do in a week or two?” Horridly, Mike stares as if a flamethrower was pulverizing his friend, “F*** that s***.”

To counter such emotions, I become more aware of my feelings and come into the present moment, where everyday activities still take on a joyful, miraculous quality. If I am mindful or fully present in the here and now, anxiety disappears, and a sense of timelessness takes hold, allowing the best highest qualities, such as kindness and compassion, to emerge. And most of the time, it works. Other days, I want to say, “F*** that s***!”

In his book The Heart Aroused, David Whyte wrote of a time he found himself working with a roomful of thoughtful managers. The group was looking at the way humans find it necessary to sacrifice their sacred desires and personal visions on the altar of work and success. Whyte instructed the class to summarize their life in one sentence.

In the back of the classroom, a woman read slowly, unaware that the silence struck the room. 

“Ten years ago . . .

I turned my face for a moment, and it became my life.”

Whyte was demonstrating how we have the patience for almost everything, but that which is most important. We look at the life of our own most central imaginings and see it beckon. For the most part, we neither dare to follow it nor leave it. We turn our face for a moment and tell ourselves we will be sure to get back to it.

I read Whyte’s book in 2002. Every once in a while, the urge to write my one-line life summary resurfaces. In a darkened stairwell my left hand shook uncontrollably from Parkinson’s. “Just one of those days,” I muttered. In utter exhaustion, I quickly penned, “Days became decades.

“Days became decades.”

Almost everyone I know understands this sentence. Work hard for your goals, sacrifice, commit to the ideas of others and forget your own, receive promotions, and get rewarded for success. Through the years, your hard drive gets full, life fills, investments pay off. Yet you stop to look around, and nothing seems familiar. 

Weariness is the fulcrum for introspection. At 59, doctors claimed I had approximately two good years. At 60, eleven months remain. I descend into a cadence of thought of just how I got here. I have a ton of shit, but little else. My inner soul longed for a truer sanctuary, a hunger for something money can’t buy. 

St. Gregory once said, “Grace is given not to them that speak their faith, but to those who live it.” I’ll have to admit, I haven’t lived in faith until about eight years ago. I mean, I had faith, but I hadn’t lived in faith. Right now, amid a pandemic, amid all my suffering, I am just plain weary. Exhausted. Exhausted of words, ideas, thought-provoking mission statements such as “First things first” or “Turn the ship around.” When people die every few minutes, such things seem rather small.

Moving to the bathroom, I splashed water unto my face. Looking upward to the mirror, I asked the man on the other side, “Where does this end?” I didn’t know.

The Response

Lovers of words and computers are prone to endless study. Yesterday, my boss asked if I had performed any research. With accouterment of medical support alarms, laughter was my only reply. 

We’ve become so involved in all things that we forget to live. We are propelled to make the best use of time, study the world, and absorb everything. Interactions become “deep,” “philosophical” or “analytical.” And when we’re done, there’s no joy.

The real proving ground of living a faith-based life does not reside in our ability to study it. It’s about how we treat one another, and whether we’re fully present in each moment of service. Can we find pure gratitude, a joy in the heart, a desire to serve? 

Faithful living is not an intellectual assent. Service to those in need is a path, it’s faithful living. The real proving ground of our faith isn’t how articulate, or how deep it may sound, it’s how we live. Thus, when I looked in the mirror, the man looking back responded: 

“… if there is no room for humanity, pain, sweat, doubt, and discouragement if your life, then you need to change who you are.”

 

“It is in the nature of medicine that you are gonna screw up. You are gonna kill someone. If you can’t handle that reality, pick another profession. Or finish medical school and teach.”

~ Gregory House ~

Dr. House’s comment while substituting as a guest lecturer. Unfortunately, Dr. House’s statement to the interns occurs all too often. It happened to me this past Friday. I likened it to something out of Charles Dickinson’s Tale of Two Cities.

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair . . .”

I returned for my post-operation evaluation. Good News. The operation was successful. Bad News. The symptoms remained relatively the same. My neuro was positive that removing the tumor would make some positive impact.

Studying the medical history, a sharp, bright, neurological nurse looked at my medical history, then she squinted and studied further. Her first poke went unacknowledged. With careful forethought, she grabbed a piece of the neuro’s flesh, twisted slightly. Turning to look where she pointed, the neuro read. He read again. And again. He pulled up the MRI from 2015. And he read. Read again. And again.

They excused themselves.

Ten minutes later, several doctors, en mass, poked and prodded. They left, leaving the neurological nurse and me to kill time quietly. After eons of seconds, she sympathetically smiled me. “We believe you have Parkinson’s.”

Pause . . . Long pause. 

I must have had this WTF expression, but just as she was about to follow-up, the flock of physicians returned.

“In 2015, the MRI we performed indicated over seven supratentorial FLAIR hyperintense lesions or plaques. We should have noted these. We misread the MRI. While there is no one single test that can verify Parkinson’s, this finding and your symptoms demonstrate the diagnosis. Unfortunately, your Parkinson’s has been untreated for at least five years.”

“All this time I was told, ‘nothing to be done,’ we recommend a psychiatrist…”

“Was awful,” he interrupted. Soulfully searching for the right words, “I am sorry.”

The tumor still had to come out. The remaining portion of the tumor still residing in my neck still remains. All the while, physicians had either denied my symptoms or attributed to the tumor was wrong. All those years of pain and suffering. All it took was for a twenty-year veteran neurological nurse to read the chart and connect the dots. 

I am still processing, but I left in peace. “Why?” one would wonder. Well, I found some level of peace in the doctor’s words.

“Better than a thousand hollow words is one word that brings peace.”

~ Buddha ~

Years ago, Ron Srigley taught a class in which many students failed the midterm. Not just failed, but failed miserably. He asked the students what went wrong. After a few moments of silence, one young woman put up her hand and said: “We don’t understand what the books say, sir. We don’t understand the words.” Srigley looked around and saw guileless heads pensively nodding in agreement.

I experienced a similar phenomenon several weeks ago in a restaurant outside Tucson, Arizona, after a beautiful meal, I requested a $100 gift certificate for my parents. New to completing such a task, the manager assisted the young server.

Manager, “Make sure you write ‘For food and non-alcoholic beverages.’”

A pause ensued as I watched the young server.

“Ugh,” she anguished. “How do you spell ‘alcohol?’ I need my cell phone.

Mark Zuckerberg’s reformulated Facebook’s mission statement aims to “give people power to build community and bring the world closer together.” The price for this form of community is the loss of human relationships. All of us stick our faces into our phones when face to face communication is required. Why? Mainly because we don’t know how to communicate.

I wonder if God uses a cell phone? Not sure. In 2017, a blog author outlined 15 must-have apps Christian Apps that will inspire growth. Likewise, there’s a list of 15 Buddhist Apps that will provide daily inspiration and joy. There are at least “7 best prayer apps” guaranteed to grow your faith (as opposed to the 100 or so non-guaranteed). There are apps that will remind you to pray and others that will ask others to pray. (Mind you, I am unclear why the phone’s calendar appointment couldn’t do that function, but nonetheless.) By the way, Google can now point you in the right direction for Mecca, and there’s a host of religious dating apps. Lastly, God now has a television show “God Friended Me,” in which an atheist gets a friend request from ‘God’ via Facebook.

So…does all of this help with our connection to people, and likewise, to God? We’ve become so used to not talking that it scares many to have such serious conversations. Now, any of us risk that one incorrectly used exclamation point will end a friendship. And certainly an inappropriate picture has plummeted careers. It’s a point our current leaders have learned: The lack of face-to-face interaction demeans and depersonalizes. It’s a subset of society and or religion altogether.

For instance—I kid you not—I just received a text message from someone from Denver, Colorado (720) ***-****. I have no clue who the person(s) is/are. It could be anyone. I presume it is a woman, for the person(s) sent an anime of a woman dressed in a Santa outfit riding a dragon. However, I presume the person wishes me ‘Happy Holidays.’ It could be ironic. Just the other day I was praying, and jokingly said to the deceased person I prayed about, “Ah. Send me a text letting me know how you’re doing.” Maybe it’s visible proof that God allows cell phone use. However, the test came from an Android phone. Does that mean God uses only Android? Irregardless, hate to see that one-time text charge from the hereafter.

Looping back to Ron Srigley, Srigley offered his students extra credit if they gave up their phones for nine days and wrote about the experience. Twelve students took the offer. The results were impressive, as many students wrote of being both distracted and morally compromised.

  • Kate: “Having a cell phone has affected my code of morals, and this scares me … I regret to admit that I have texted in class this year, something I swore to myself in high school that I would never do … I am disappointed in myself now that I see how much I have come to depend on technology … I start to wonder if it has affected who I am as a person, and then I remember that it already has.”
  • And James, though he says we must continue to develop our technology, said that “what many people forget is that it is vital for us not to lose our fundamental values along the way.”

Of course, I write all of this with full knowledge that, for all practical purposes, I’m a blogger. Still, I doubt if the (720) area code text was from God or otherwise. And maybe, just maybe, God does follow my blog. Never know, right? I have no clue, but I’ll keep you apprised. My point is simple, put the phone down and meaningful conversations, both personal and spiritual.

God wants personal, not a text. And those you love deserve the same.

For the past several years, I used a Galaxy S8 Active. You know, it’s the phone you can drop from an airplane, hit and crush a car’s roof, land in the neighbor’s pool, pull it out, wipe it off and make a call. However, with my entire family possessing a hoard of iPhone’s, there I stood, an outsider looking in.

Longing for love and acceptance, I ventured into an Apple store in November 2018 and purchased an iPhone XS Max. Yeah … the ‘Max.’ The ultimate. The coup de grâce. It will be the phone I will die with, the phone that will outlive me, one that will let me enjoy my retirement looking for cheap buffets, and garage sales. I felt the slick golden beast in my hand and Apple’s seduction oozed through my body. Apple was subliminally saying; God has an Apple. He will even text you if you ‘BELIEVE.’

I believed. “Sold,” I said to the Apple Expert. I had to have it.

My first several connections with my mother via FaceTime were fantastic. Then I upgraded. 12.1.whatever. Then came 12.1.1.whatever. And more ‘whatevers’ after that. And for the last four months, FaceTime has been challenging. FaceTime with friends or family is perfect until the four to five-minute mark. After that, I get Apple’s equivalent to Microsoft’s Blue Screen of Death, “poor connection.” Regardless of effort, FaceTime would only recover if the phone was restarted and try again.

I turned to Mr. Genius. Mr. Genius called on my home phone and subliminally confirmed I was no smarter than the fish in my aquarium, “FaceTime error is a fairly simple error and fairly simple to correct.”

Before doing anything, he checked Apple’s System Status page to ensure FaceTime Servers were up and running. I presume if the servers weren’t up, he’d have a crisis and wouldn’t bother with an old, bald, fat, sixty-year-old from Washington.

Yup. Good,” he noted. “Let’s try restarting the device.”

Ok,” restarting.

Now, let’s test FaceTime.”

Five minutes passed, “Poor Connection.”

In the course of attempting to repair this, here’s a list of attempted steps Mr. Genius requested I perform, in order.

  • Run a speed test on my networks to ensure that they are reaching 5mbps or greater. If not, low data rates cause problems with FaceTime
  • Toggle Wi-Fi off and back on again
  • Connect to a 5 GHz Wi-Fi signal and not a 2.4 GHz or vice-versa
  • Turn Cellular Data Off
  • Toggle Airplane Mode on, wait 20-30 seconds and toggle Airplane Mode off–the quick method is via Control Center
  • Toggle FaceTime off and back on again, then sign in again
  • Change internet connection to cellular data by toggling off Wi-Fi
  • Turn off Wi-Fi Assist
  • Restart or reset my home router
  • Force the FaceTime app to close and launch again
  • Restart device and then force restart
  • Change DNS info, as may fix FaceTime connection issues
  • Set Date & Time to a time that is at least one year ahead and try again
  • Delete the FaceTime App and reinstall it via the App Store

Phillip Moffitt wrote that cultivating the two paramis (perfection and completeness) are found in patience and persistence are essential. The two go hand-in-hand.

Patience is the ability to abide by things the way they are. It allows you to tolerate failure, disappointment, defeat, unpleasantness, and confusion without giving up—both on the meditation cushion and in life. Persistence is the capacity of energetic resolve—the determination to hold steady to your intentions. Persistence brings into play the essential energy for directing your attention to what needs to be done right now. Deliberately placing attention on patience gives you the strength to cultivate patience; steady attention on being persistent will yield the energy to nurture new habits of mind.

I must admit, it was only through patience and persistence that I finally found an answer.

Hey, Mr. Genius. I found the soultion.

Great,” he paused. “What was it?

Well,” I stated. “You know that SIM Card in the iPhone?

Yeah?

I took it out and placed into my old Galaxy S8 Active. Works like a charm.

But sir, FaceTime does not operate on Android.”

Yup,” nodding to myself. “If they want me, they can call.”

Humility

As a consultant, I’ve worked in hospitals across the country for years. Every once in a while, I see a physician with a pager. For all the high-tech equipment to use, one thing seems pretty archaic: pagers. Yet, 85 % of hospitals still use pagers.

There are significant reasons hospital staff still use one-way pagers to get in touch. For one important reason is that hospitals can be dead zones for cell service. In some areas, where the walls are built to keep X-rays from penetrating, heavy-duty designs make it hard for a cell phone signal to penetrate exterior walls.

A few days ago, I was sipping coffee in the cafeteria and overheard a physician complaining that the pager’s battery drains too quick.

A person at the adjacent table leaned in and said, “Excuse me, sir.

Yes?” he queried.

Do you need your pager at night? Meaning, are you always on call?

No,” he responded.

Well, you might get better battery life if you place the battery in the freezer. This might slow the discharge rate.

Oh great. Thanks for the tip.”

Visiting Information Technology for a wiring diagram, I saw a pager laying on the table. The pager’s casing was cracked, and the screen had broken.

Pointing to the pager, “Dropped pager, huh?”

Nah,” said the technician. “Some doctor put his pager in the freezer believing it would extend battery life.”

Buddhism emphasizes the importance of service on the Eightfold Path. By serving others, one cultivates compassion and washes away past sins. Particular emphasis is placed upon service to parents, teachers, learned persons, fellow monks when they are sick or need of help, assistance to animals, friends, servants, ascetics, and others.

Fortunately, doctors, while specifically listed still make the list. In the course of assisting the physician, I found ‘humility‘ still exits. Anthony de Mellow highlighted the message.

To a visitor who described himself as a seeker after Truth the Master said, “If what you seek is Truth, there is one thing you must have above all else.

I know. An overwhelming passion for it.”

No. An unremitting readiness to admit you may be wrong.

Accessibility

It’s been announced our company is moving to the cloud. How’s your fear of heights?

~ CloudTweaks.com Cartoon ~

As suggested by CloudTweaks, technology hits everyone.

Several years ago, I read an article in Digital Trends indicating Buddhism was embracing technology with by installing a Buddha-bot. In hopes of luring a younger generation, a Buddhist temple in China welcomed a robot monk to its order. Xianer was designed to promote the wisdom of an older order. Xianer has a touchscreen that helps answer 20 questions. On a humorous note, if you’re the one person requiring 21 questions, this monastery is far too advanced.

The theme of it all centers upon the notion that Buddhism and technology are harmonious. According to the creator, there are plans for future expansion. In the past year, the electronic monk has learned English, established a WeChat account that was reportedly acquired 1.5 million followers. It also likes ice cream. “Wish I could have 100 ice cream cones at one time.” Me too, Xianer. Me too.

Pay no mind to the fact the Chinese government monitors WeChat. One wrong chat Xianer, and you’ll likely be hacking foreign governments, implanting ransomware and gathering secrets, including wqho really shot J.R., what’s really in that beautiful Bush bean recipe and is there an ancient Chinese secret to Calgon? Wait … the ancient Chinese secret was Calgon.

Sorry, I digressed.

All this made me ponder how Xianer could assist me. Like a company purchasing carbon offsets to balance carbon emissions, maybe Xianer could offset uneven meditation days. For instance, I usually perform forty-minutes of meditation per daily. Should I only get thirty-minutes, Xianer can offset my footprint. Fail the abstention from intoxication? “Xianer, come here please.” Maybe Xianer could answer the client who writes at 3:00 AM in the morning asking why I haven’t responded to his email at 2:00 AM.

Inevitably, women will daydream of Xianer. So many questions: Can Xianer cook? Can he cuddle? Or better yet, can he listen to any conversation longer than three minutes in length? Will he leave the lid up? Seriously ladies, there are easier things in life than trying to find the perfect man … like nailing jelly to a tree. Maybe – just maybe – Xianer is your guy.

The Longquan Temple introduced Xianer in 2015 in hopes of using cutting edge technology to spread Buddhism. Companies volunteered their expertise for the unusual project.

Developing Xianer wasn’t for promotional or commercial purposes,” said Xianfan, the head of the temple’s animation studio.

We only wanted to explore how to fuse Buddhism with science better, to convey the message that Buddhism and science aren’t contradictory.

And the tactic works well with China’s younger, digitally savvy generation.

It’s super cute…I feel it is like a temple mascot, making Buddhism much more accessible,” said Liu Jiyue, a college student who went to the temple to meet the robot.

What? A robot making Buddhism more accessible?

Technology has been available for years. A cursory review of the Apple Store has apps such as Breethe, Buddha Quotes, Buddhist Scriptures, Chill, and iDharma to name a few. If you’re Catholic, there are apps such as Abide, Laudate, Catholic Daily Readings, and Daily Bible Verse Devotional are available. Likewise, if you’re an Atheist, one may find apps such as Atheist Pocket Debater, Atheism, and American Atheist Magazine may be helpful.

The point being, technology isn’t new. And almost every religion has been, quote, ‘accessible.’ Buddhism has been accessible for hundreds of years. The problem is that many are too obsessed with celebrity teachers and practice validation. There’s nothing wrong with having a specific technology, a teacher who isn’t famous, or just practicing with a group of fellow travelers on the path. It’s about commitment: commitment to a group, commitment to keep showing up, and commitment to keep trying even when there is no financial incentive or approval of a famous teacher.

Simply put, if you want to make Buddhist (or any religion for that matter) more accessible, do it.

Into The Streets

All of us are faced with a myriad of decisions. Do this, then that. Do that, then this. Life is full of complicated, often uncharted decisions. How one chooses often makes the difference for so many millions.  This is what the GOP health care bill legislation reminds me of.

As reported by the New York Times, the selected Senators working on the GOP legislation includes Mitch McConnell, John Cornyn, John Thune, and John Barrasso. The group also includes three committee chairmen: Mr. Hatch; Senator Lamar Alexander, Senator Michael B. Enzi, Tom Cotton, Cory Gardner, Rob Portman and Patrick J. Toomey. This was an all boys’ club, woman weren’t allowed. No public hearings, no healthcare professionals and zero representation from the insurance industry.

Having worked in healthcare for years, I’m accustomed to seeing an oft-forgotten segment of society, the elderly and ill. Much of this group includes the mentally ill, dementia inflicted, those with Alzheimer’s, cancer patients, and Medicaid/Medicare permanently bound nursing home residents.

As person inflicted with both heart and neck disabilities, I am at peace knowing that for the moment, I’m not on public disability.

For the moment.” For the moment. The words “for the moment” lingers in my soul. I, like nearly sixty-five percent of Americans, will become afflicted by disease so severe that I will be forced to receive care from another. This is not a picture I imagined 30 years ago let alone 5. Like many who experience this, the vitality of life has left for better weather and all that’s left is this old wrinkled soul. It’s a reality almost all I’ve encountered expected.

Elizabeth O’Brien of Time Magazine wrote

When it comes to finding—and financing—long-term care for older loved ones, most families are on their own. And many end up turning to Medicaid when their money runs out. It’s not hard to drain your life savings on nursing home care that runs around $82,000 per year but can go much higher in costlier areas of the country. To qualify for Medicaid for long-term care, applicants need to have depleted most of their resources. Criteria vary by state; in New York, for example, the asset limit is about $14,000, not including a certain amount of home equity.

My healthcare experience included many assisted-living and nursing home facilities. Accordingly, I’ve residents from all walks of life – former professional athletes, teachers, farmers, doctors, lawyers, stay-at-home parents, health aides, stockbrokers, CEOs’, auto mechanics, and laborers. You name a profession, I have seen it. Many entered old age with significant assets but were forced into Medicaid as resources depleted. A combination of longer life spans and spiraling health care costs has left an estimated 64 percent of the Americans in nursing homes dependent on Medicaid.

So what’s the unanswered question? If the GOP bill gets approved, where do all these people go?

To the streets.

htc-10

Against the advise of doctors and common sense alike, I pushed away regret and charted course for a fourteen day tour of Aruba, Cartagena, Columbia, Colon, Columbia, Panama Canal, Limón, Costa Rica and onward to Grand Cayman before heading stateside.

I packed lightly. Any clothing item packed had to be washed and hand dried. I also rolled an all-purpose sports coat into my back pack, couple packs of wash and wear undergarments, two wash and wear shirts and one set of blue-jeans.

Technology wise, I could have chosen from a number cell phones. Many might have taken an iPhone or iPad, but I carefully debated weight. I have an iPhone 6, IPhone 6s Plus, IPad Air 2, iPad Mini 4, Galaxy Note 5 and an unlocked HTC 10. Strangely enough, with all the Apple Travel app’s available, I settled for the iPad Mini and the HTC 10.

The HTC was a great choice.

To provide some levity, in my past, I’ve owned an HTC One 7, 8, and 9. I loved al those phones. Thus, six months ago, dished out cash for an HTC 10 and the associated HTC 10 Ice case. And like all connected travelers, I wanted this relationship to work. And like all relationships, we fidgeted, fussed, yelled and at times broke up. Hey HTC, “It’s not you. It’s me.

So, I ditched my carrier locked Apple iPhone 6s Plus, took my clean, nick free HTC 10, inserted into the HTC Ice cover and off we went. Fourteen days.

There were specific advantages. The HTC 10 weighed roughly 6 ounces, had a wonderful screen size of 5.2 inches, with a 565 pixel density, was recently updated to Android 7, had excellent battery life and quick charger. The HTC also had additional storage capability. Not that I store music on an external storage card, I do. But I copied my passport, driver’s license, insurance information, medical prescriptions information and other key documents. This feature came in handy when completing “Customs Information” for countries visited. Instead of having to drag out my passport, I simply pulled the information from the HTC’s external storage card and completed the required forms.

As for photographs, I will admit I am no professional photographer. I am a “point and shoot guy.” Accordingly, I took no camera. Every photograph taken was performed on  my HTC 10. I have to admit, the photographs were outstanding. Only once did I use photo editing options to alter a picture. Every shot was flawless, even when moving.

When HTC changed the dual speaker layout, I was quite disappointed. Yet, when under the stars in Panama I easily listen to Frank Sinatra, Harry Chapin, Andrea Brachfeld, Vivaldi or Billy Joel. The sounds were wonderful. Additionally, there were times when I connected a Powerbeats 2 to drown out the busy surroundings. Music sound quality never diminished.

The most impressive feature I loved about the HTC was its ability to connect other carriers or WiFi. Unlike my Tavel partner who used an AT&T iPhone, my HTC detected and connected to other carriers. When this occurred, a message from my carrier came front-screen “Text messages, email and data is free. Phone calls are 20 cents a minute.” I loved it. My companion’s iPhone rarely detected or connected to carriers outside the network. This may be due to the setup of the phone, or my friend’s carrier plan, but the HTC 10 connected perfectly.

Google Maps and location detection was my only sore point. Unfortunately, I did not download city-t0-city maps prior to embarking. Thus, unless there was solid carrier connection, Google Maps and location tracking often failed. Other things noticed included that neither Android Pay nor Apple Pay were wholely effective outside the US.  The US Customs App of IOS was ineffective outside the US and a US Customs App for Android is non-existence. Lastly, Airport check-in when outside the US, Canada and key cities in Mexico was messy. We found one could check-in via my HTC, but still had to obtain physical boarding passes as wireless boarding passes were rarely received outside of major cities.

Overall, I fell in love with the HTC 10 and now keep it as my primary cell phone. And after all that travel and hiking, the HTC remains flawless.

imageI spent this past week in Orlando, Florida. Ironically, the American Counseling Association was holding its annual convention here. During my stay, I befriended several counseling professors from a few universities. Although summarized, the following stories were garnered after a few drinks, with names and schools being omitted.

Story One – A Paid Vacation
“I came here for the conference,” the dean said. “I’ve been here three days and have yet to attend one conference seminar. I’ve been at Disney World the whole time.”

“Why haven’t you attended anything?” I queried.

“Well,” she exclaimed. “Others use the conference as vacation for years. So I got tired of it and decided to do it myself. The heck with them.”

“So the university paid for everything: hotel, airfare, car rental, dinning, gasoline and tolls?”

“Yes.”

“Man! Gotta love the cost of education,” I noted.

Story Two – The Grant
“My school has given me the best grant ever,” he pronounced.

“And that would be?” I inquired.

“I received a grant to watch gay pornography and report on possible counseling techniques to counter pornography.”

“Seuiously?”

“Yes. Seriously.” After a brief pause, “Guess what?”

“What,” shaking my head.

“In truth, I am a gay man.”

“So you’re a gay man. And you reccveived a grant from the university to watch gay porn?”

“Yes,” he laughed.

Story Three – The Email Spy
“I came to give a speech on data privacy.”

“Important topic,” I said.

“Yeah,” he said. “And if you run across anyone needing a software that can read emails, let me know. I built one.”

“You built one?”

“Yes.”

“How does it work?” I asked.

“Well, I own a private security company on the side. I funneled university computer technology student interns to work at my company. Students built the software that I sold back to the university and then to the government. The software tracks and records all emails sent by students or university staff.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah,” he said. “If you send an email through the university system … to Hotmail, Yahoo, Gmail … whatever … If I turn the software on, I can copy, track it and read it. And you’d never be the wiser”

“And if the students and faculty ever find out, I’ll bet they’ll be pretty pissed.”

“Oh yeah,” he said.

Somewhere along the line I thought education was to better students, professors were leaders. But apparently, in some cases, it’s all about having students pay for stupid shit.

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