• tornado

    Three is a weather pattern to notice

    August 13, 2024 / 2 Comments

    For the third time since we met, M and I had to hunker in the basement due to an oncoming tornado.

    The first time was last October. We were watching TV when our phones began shrieking with an alert ordering us to TAKE SHELTER IMMEDIATELY. After gathering the cat carriers and finding/scooping up the kitties, we headed into the basement to wait. Twenty minutes later, we received the “all-clear” and walked back upstairs, relieved it was over with nary any damage to our property.

    Alas, the second time took place about an hour after the first. We’d freed the furballs and returned to our show when our phone alarms began to sound again. Back into the basement we all went.

    The third time was on a Sunday last month. Because I follow weather news, I knew our area was under a tornado watch. Before I went to bed, M grabbed five cat carriers and set them up in the dining room, just in case. I left some clothes at the bottom of my bed, also just in case. Then, I went to sleep. It wasn’t easy, of course, but since I was scheduled to work that night, I had no choice.

    My time in Morpheus’s realm was fraught. I’m not even sure I made it to the front gates; it was as if my brain knew trouble was on the horizon and didn’t want me to sleep too deeply.

    At 5:45 p.m. (or 5:45 a.m. in my world), my phone’s tornado alert became a loud and demanding wake-up call. I leaped out of bed, dressed and opened the bedroom door. Just as I did so, M opened his office door, apparently en route to wake me. Instead, we calmly but quickly walked downstairs and began the mad process of corralling the cats and getting everyone into the basement. Our current record time, from shriek to shelter, stands at 8 minutes.

    We’ve been together for 18 years and married for nearly 15. For much of that time, we’ve resided in New Hampshire, a place that’s not exactly known for having a tornado season. Oh sure, we come up against the occasional blizzard, ice storm or hurricane, but for the most part, the major natural disasters that plague other parts of the country are rarely felt here.

    Thanks to climate change, however, historic patterns are no longer reliable. Which is why we plan to always have a basement in whatever home we own. If twisters are going to make regular appearances in New England, the Walker-Weir family intends to have a safe place to wait and hope that this too will eventually pass.

  • digital footprint crime

    Examining the digital footprint of crime

    August 2, 2024 / No Comments

    I recently started watching “Witness to Murder: Digital Evidence,” a true crime show that focuses on using technology to catch criminals. Think suspicious Google searches, stored destinations on GPS, incriminating YouTube videos, child porn and pings on cell towers.

    It’s really quite amazing how much evidence folks create on their computers and cellphones. Even the act of turning off the phone or GPS while committing a criminal act can lead police right to a predator. Technology can help the authorities learn more about the victim as well, creating a timeline of events and providing connections to possible witnesses or persons of interest.

    Then there’s the fact that so much of our public life is now captured on video. It’s creepy as hell when you think about it — very Big Brother — and yet such surveillance can both deter crime and catch people who’ve committed criminal acts. So often, the police officers interviewed on the show say the same things:

    * The video is a witness without an agenda. It doesn’t lie.

    * Without the video, we never would’ve identified the criminal/solved this crime/convicted the perpetrator.

    As someone with “lawful good” tendencies, a life of crime has never interested me. I’d rather earn or win than take, and I’d rather help than harm. I wouldn’t hesitate to give police access to our Nest footage if it could help catch a culprit. And unless I had some proprietary information on it — or notes/recordings/photos about a news story I’m writing — the authorities would find nothing even remotely interesting on my phone, mostly just recipes and thousands of cat photos.

    (One side-note: All those odd, murder-y Google searches are for my novel. I swear!)

    That said, I’m surprised shows like this don’t make criminals rethink their actions. If the technology continues to improve, and of course it will, it’s going to be even harder to get away with crimes and remain on the lam. Plus, if you give up a life of crime, you don’t have to worry about every move you make, either in the real world or online.

  • Pepper in a doughnut

    Feeling invisible — and that’s a good thing

    July 26, 2024 / 2 Comments

    My youngest cat, Pepper, loves to be invisible. She thinks that if she’s underneath a piece of paper or inside a box, you cannot see her (even if a paw or ear or tail is still showing), and thus she’s invincible.

    I admit total responsibility for this. Every time Pepper hides underneath a piece of paper or inside a box, I behave as though she’s done the ultimate vanishing act.

    “Where’s Pepper??? She was just here a minute ago and now she’s gone. She must be invisible!”

    Although I spend a lot of time online, I feel as though no one can see me when I’m at home. The house is my version of Pepper’s paper or box; it’s the one place where I am generally unseen by most of the world and yet able to accomplish almost anything I set my mind to.

    On those rare occasions when I do leave home, I tend to stick to the fringes. I go to places where people rarely congregate. And, due to the summer surge of COVID-19 infections (along with my latest disastrous dental issue), I wear a mask whenever I’m in public and around others.

    Weirdly, I feel more seen when I wear a mask now because no one else is doing so. Apparently, most people are cool with repeatedly catching COVID and are unwilling to take even the smallest of precautions to avoid it. Since I do wear a mask, I stand out. In the past few years, I’ve also noticed that having a coughing fit in public puts an unwanted spotlight on me, masked or not.

    All of this is to say that I’ve not become agoraphobic since the pandemic began. I don’t feel an irrational fear about leaving the house (unless I’m seeing a medical professional who plans to use needles on me). Nor have I become less social. I still chat with friends, meet online with my book group and enjoy dates with M.

    But, like Pepper, I’ve begun to enjoy being invisible. At home, I feel loved, comforted and unseen. Or as The Whimsical Muse recently noted: