As it turns out, my mother is not imagining her hearing loss. There is a measurable loss in both ears since her last test. As the technician pointed out, "When you are in the mid-to-profound loss range, any additional loss is significant."
We came home with a new toy, a device called TV Ears. It's earphones with a volume control, drawing its signal off a connected TV. You can change the volume to your ears without changing the volume on the set itself, thereby saving the ears of those of use who don't (yet!) need the additional amplification.
Connecting external devices to a TV set became old hat years ago. I used to laughingly claim that I should get tech wages at work (nearly double my actual salary) for all the times I had to wire cables into a Superintendent's TV set, or my own video editing system. After the multiple decks, multiple sound sources, multiple image sources, and multiple monitors all hooked together into a single coherent editing system, adding a listening device like TV Ears ought to have been a piece of cake.
Until I discovered that my parents' TV, made in 2000, has NO audio out ports. No familiar little red/white/yellow places to plug in the correspondingly colored wires that come with every device purchased these days. Just solid plastic coverings where I'd expect to find the connectors.
Think, Bonnie, think!
What should, in theory, have provided a work-around -- didn't. At least not for several hours. A mad dash to nearby Radio Shack only confirmed the theory. Even replacing the TV set would not solve the problem. New TVs have lots of computer, iPod, and other digital connections. Most have no more than one RCA outlet, one usually dedicated to another device.
Several hours later, after much cable moving, connection jiggling, channel changing, powering equipment on and off -- and frustration -- the whole package came together. Both the TV and the Ears now work.
Mother's judgement? "It is louder, but it is not any clearer." I suspect the Ears will be returned before the end of the 30-day trial.
Give thanks for technology that works the way it is intended!
Don't forget to pray.......
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
A Reality Check
It's just after 10:00 p.m., the house is quiet, and I'm hearing the telltale sound of raindrops of the aluminum roof of the lanai. For you non-Hawaiians, read "patio roof". It sounds kinda' like lah-NIGH. It has been threatening all day -- overcast skies, temperatures cool enough that long sleeves were comfortable today. It's supposed to rain for the next several days.
Last week brought several days of torrential rain. The plover who makes our yard his (her?) winter home was dancing around the puddles, remembering that he really is a shore bird. Yesterday I found him exploring the carport. Silly bird. No bugs there, just 70 years of cars parked there night after night.
My mom had wanted to attend a real estate presentation this evening dealing with property values in this neighborhood. I think the sponsoring real estate office wants to expand its client base. But by mid-afternoon she announced that her hearing has deteriorated so much in the last week that she didn't think she could hear anything even if she sat in the front row. I don't know that her hearing has gotten significantly worse in the last week -- she couldn't hear the dialog in a commercial movie theater last summer. We didn't go to the presentation tonight; we are going to the hearing clinic tomorrow.
Give thanks for the health you have. Don't forget to pray!
Last week brought several days of torrential rain. The plover who makes our yard his (her?) winter home was dancing around the puddles, remembering that he really is a shore bird. Yesterday I found him exploring the carport. Silly bird. No bugs there, just 70 years of cars parked there night after night.
My mom had wanted to attend a real estate presentation this evening dealing with property values in this neighborhood. I think the sponsoring real estate office wants to expand its client base. But by mid-afternoon she announced that her hearing has deteriorated so much in the last week that she didn't think she could hear anything even if she sat in the front row. I don't know that her hearing has gotten significantly worse in the last week -- she couldn't hear the dialog in a commercial movie theater last summer. We didn't go to the presentation tonight; we are going to the hearing clinic tomorrow.
Give thanks for the health you have. Don't forget to pray!
Monday, January 3, 2011
Honoring our Ali'i
Mauna 'Ala is not just another cemetery. It is not a part of the State of Hawai'i, nor is it part of the Untied States. Here, one stands in the Kingdom of Hawaii. Here many of our Ali'i, our royalty, are buried.
Here members of the four Royal Societies and Daughters of Hawai'i (we are not a royal society, i.e., not founded by one of the ali'i) gather on specific days to honor one or more of those ali'i. On New Year's Eve we gathered to remember Queen Kapiolani, wife of our last king, Kalakaua. On January 2 we gathered again, this time to honor Queen Emma, wife of Kamehameha IV, on her birthday.
We are reminded of the contributions the ali'i made to society. Most were writers and musicians, poets and composers. They were social reformers in a world of change. They were fierce champions of their people and their nation.
Queens Emma and Kapi'olani are each credited with founding a hospital -- Emma, the Queens Hospital opened originally to combat the western diseases decimating the Hawaiian population; and Kapiolani the hospital which bears her name, serving specifically women and children. My mother, my brother and I were all born at Kapi'olani Hospital. Today Kapi'olani provides the only 24-hour pediatric emergency care and the only pediatric and neo-natal Intensive Care Units in the state.
Emma petitioned the Anglican Church to come to Hawaii, and to establish a school for girls in Honolulu. In my own line, I am the first in five generations not to attend St. Andrew's Priory.
The photo above shows a portion of the procession entering the chapel at Mauna 'Ala. The ladies in black with golden lei are members of the Ka'ahumanu Society. Daughters of Hawai'i, similarly garbed in white with golden lei, follow them. Ahead, with capes, are members of the Royal Order of Kamehameha. The processional order may change depending on the ali'i being honored, but it is always single file, always silent, always a reminder of who we are as part of the Hawaiian community.
Give thanks for the contributions of our ali'i, especially the Queens Medical Center, St. Andrew's Priory , and the Kapi'olani Medical Center for Women and Children.
Don't forget to pray.
Signs of the New Year
Hawaii is one of those places where cultural diversity is -- and has been for a long time -- the rule rather than the exception. Absence of diversity is one of the things local folks notice when we move away from Hawaii.
These views, taken just inside the entrance of the neighborhood grocery store, are typical.
Kadomatsu are a Japanese tradition. They are displays of bamboo, evergreen and sometimes flowers. Their composition, arrangement and placement at or near the front door are traditional, and steeped with religious symbolism and significance.
Give thanks for the diversity that adds spice, breadth and awareness to our lives.
Don't forget to pray....
These views, taken just inside the entrance of the neighborhood grocery store, are typical.
Kadomatsu are a Japanese tradition. They are displays of bamboo, evergreen and sometimes flowers. Their composition, arrangement and placement at or near the front door are traditional, and steeped with religious symbolism and significance.
Next to the Kadomatsu is the tray of bamboo leaves, another of oranges, or tangerines with a leaf attached, and boxes of mochi.
Making mochi at the New Year is as tradition in the Japanese community as making ravioli is to my Italian friends, and tamales to those from Mexico.
Give thanks for the diversity that adds spice, breadth and awareness to our lives.
Don't forget to pray....
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Not Quite Christmas
It's not the Christmas of storybooks and the more northern climates.
Christmas in Hawaii is warm -- high 70's, and this year it is very rainy. I am reminded of the last major flood in northern California, right at this time of year in 1996, when warm rains at high elevations melted most of a significant snow pack in the space of just a few days. Pineapple Express, they called it. But that's a story for another day.
It's not the Christmas Eve of bean soup and bread fresh from the breadmaker, shared with good friends, then bundling into coat and hat and gloves (for warmth, not fashion!) and of heading off to church.
It's not the Christmas morning of celebratory breakfast, basking in the warmth of shared family. Neither my mother or my brother and sister-in-law celebrate a Christ-centered Christmas. It's just another one of those obligatory family days with gift exchange.
It's not the very Scottish Christmas dinner we shared with Mark and Andrea in the years they lived in Groveland. Nor is it the Christmas of leftovers and football on the TV, and leisurely visits with friends and family.
Instead, I shared a breakfast of out-of-season strawberries with my mother at a table stacked with the special china and silver waiting to be returned to cupboards and drawers after making an appearance for Christmas Eve dinner. Then slipped off to church. Even there, it was clear that the main service of Christmas had happened the evening before. Very small attendance. No music. But Christmas, never-the-less.
How, I wonder, did I drift so far from the rest of my family in our ways of celebrating this particular holiday? Why is it so important this year?
Give thanks for memories, for friends and family. Give thanks for Christmas. Don't forget to pray.
Christmas in Hawaii is warm -- high 70's, and this year it is very rainy. I am reminded of the last major flood in northern California, right at this time of year in 1996, when warm rains at high elevations melted most of a significant snow pack in the space of just a few days. Pineapple Express, they called it. But that's a story for another day.
It's not the Christmas Eve of bean soup and bread fresh from the breadmaker, shared with good friends, then bundling into coat and hat and gloves (for warmth, not fashion!) and of heading off to church.
It's not the Christmas morning of celebratory breakfast, basking in the warmth of shared family. Neither my mother or my brother and sister-in-law celebrate a Christ-centered Christmas. It's just another one of those obligatory family days with gift exchange.
It's not the very Scottish Christmas dinner we shared with Mark and Andrea in the years they lived in Groveland. Nor is it the Christmas of leftovers and football on the TV, and leisurely visits with friends and family.
Instead, I shared a breakfast of out-of-season strawberries with my mother at a table stacked with the special china and silver waiting to be returned to cupboards and drawers after making an appearance for Christmas Eve dinner. Then slipped off to church. Even there, it was clear that the main service of Christmas had happened the evening before. Very small attendance. No music. But Christmas, never-the-less.
How, I wonder, did I drift so far from the rest of my family in our ways of celebrating this particular holiday? Why is it so important this year?
Give thanks for memories, for friends and family. Give thanks for Christmas. Don't forget to pray.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Spending on a Rainy Day
The Honolulu Academy of Arts is just wrapping up their annual buying spree -- just in time for Christmas. If I didn't go now, I'd miss it altogether. So off I trudged, alone, since it was cold and rainy out and Mother didn't feel like fighting the weather. My intention was Christmas shopping. For other people. Turned out to be self-gifting. Found what is becoming an annual treat -- a lovely Celtic cross in delicate silver. Quite different from the James Avery Celtic cross found so many years ago at Grace Cathedral, San Francisco. Found a fascinating bead necklace. It looks like wood, feels like pearls. It is neither. The beads are Indonesian, cut from tree resin, each about 8 mm.
Found at least one gift for someone else, but not at the Academy. Also found a second needlepoint shop in Honolulu while looking for a yarn shop. No wonder I can't find the yarn shop; it has closed.
Robert Who Listens still doesn't have enough magic in his bag of tricks. He was able to confirm that whatever this computer is doing, it's the computer -- not me. The fix-or-replace will have to wait until January. It's gone on this long; it can wait a bit longer.
It is cool and rainy and dark outside, with no hint of the dawn. Sunday is the Honolulu Marathon. Weather reports say it will rain tomorrow, too.
The Honolulu Board of Water Supply motto says When the heavens weep, the earth rejoices. Give thanks for the rain that nourishes the earth.
Found at least one gift for someone else, but not at the Academy. Also found a second needlepoint shop in Honolulu while looking for a yarn shop. No wonder I can't find the yarn shop; it has closed.
Robert Who Listens still doesn't have enough magic in his bag of tricks. He was able to confirm that whatever this computer is doing, it's the computer -- not me. The fix-or-replace will have to wait until January. It's gone on this long; it can wait a bit longer.
It is cool and rainy and dark outside, with no hint of the dawn. Sunday is the Honolulu Marathon. Weather reports say it will rain tomorrow, too.
The Honolulu Board of Water Supply motto says When the heavens weep, the earth rejoices. Give thanks for the rain that nourishes the earth.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
The Machine's at Fault
When something mechanical in my life doesn't function perfectly, I tend to assume it is my fault. Something I did is causing the problem.
Remember that new computer I waited half the summer to arrive? When it finally did, I was immediately frustrated. I've been complaining since that first week. Sluggish. Unresponsive. Slower than its predecessor with less guts and gusto.
I complained to the vendor, who happens to also be my tech support. Hey, Daniel, why did I pay a premium price for something that doesn't do what was promised? I thought you were going to add extra memory to this beast. It's not there. Hey, Daniel, I could go to Costco or Best Buy, get the same machine for less money, load it myself (and know where all the files get put), and have at least as good a product for less money. Just wouldn't have the on-call tech support. Hey, Daniel, we've got to fix this. I'm really, really not happy.
Daniel is a good civil servant. He takes all Federal and State holidays. He takes a spring break and a winter break. My computer disasters always seem to happen on the Friday of a long weekend. Or at 5:30 p.m. on Friday just after he has shut down for one of his 2-week vacations. His Christmas break starts at 5 p.m. tomorrow.
We started looking for a mutually convenient time to do a remote support session. First we had to scatter my dad's ashes. Then we had to get Kimo back on the road. Then there's my mom's nearly daily list of errands to run. Then there are my own pressing errands. Daniel has his own set of problems with an ailing, aged mother and an equally aging father with not-quite-sufficient financial resources. We finally settled on yesterday afternoon. At 2:00. No, changed that to 4:00. With Robert.
2:00 came and went without a call. 4:00 came and went. Still no call. At 4:30 I figured I'd been by-passed one more time and started the download of a library book. Robert called at 4:31. No, we couldn't ask the computer to multi-task. We would still be here 12 hours later, still trying to solve the same problem.
Robert called again today. Late again. He tried all the tricks in his magic bag. Couldn't solve the problem. Guess what? It's NOT ME! He will try again tomorrow. With a new set of tricks. It might be a graphics issue. It might be something else. Daniel is making "we'll replace it in January" noises. We'll see.
The important piece: I didn't do it! It's NOT ME! For once, the machine appears to be at fault.
Give thanks for all those machines in your life that work tirelessly, uncomplainingly, day after day, as they are intended to work. Pray for the tempers of those of us dealing with the recalcitrant, trouble-making machines in the world.
Remember that new computer I waited half the summer to arrive? When it finally did, I was immediately frustrated. I've been complaining since that first week. Sluggish. Unresponsive. Slower than its predecessor with less guts and gusto.
I complained to the vendor, who happens to also be my tech support. Hey, Daniel, why did I pay a premium price for something that doesn't do what was promised? I thought you were going to add extra memory to this beast. It's not there. Hey, Daniel, I could go to Costco or Best Buy, get the same machine for less money, load it myself (and know where all the files get put), and have at least as good a product for less money. Just wouldn't have the on-call tech support. Hey, Daniel, we've got to fix this. I'm really, really not happy.
Daniel is a good civil servant. He takes all Federal and State holidays. He takes a spring break and a winter break. My computer disasters always seem to happen on the Friday of a long weekend. Or at 5:30 p.m. on Friday just after he has shut down for one of his 2-week vacations. His Christmas break starts at 5 p.m. tomorrow.
We started looking for a mutually convenient time to do a remote support session. First we had to scatter my dad's ashes. Then we had to get Kimo back on the road. Then there's my mom's nearly daily list of errands to run. Then there are my own pressing errands. Daniel has his own set of problems with an ailing, aged mother and an equally aging father with not-quite-sufficient financial resources. We finally settled on yesterday afternoon. At 2:00. No, changed that to 4:00. With Robert.
2:00 came and went without a call. 4:00 came and went. Still no call. At 4:30 I figured I'd been by-passed one more time and started the download of a library book. Robert called at 4:31. No, we couldn't ask the computer to multi-task. We would still be here 12 hours later, still trying to solve the same problem.
Robert called again today. Late again. He tried all the tricks in his magic bag. Couldn't solve the problem. Guess what? It's NOT ME! He will try again tomorrow. With a new set of tricks. It might be a graphics issue. It might be something else. Daniel is making "we'll replace it in January" noises. We'll see.
The important piece: I didn't do it! It's NOT ME! For once, the machine appears to be at fault.
Give thanks for all those machines in your life that work tirelessly, uncomplainingly, day after day, as they are intended to work. Pray for the tempers of those of us dealing with the recalcitrant, trouble-making machines in the world.
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