My new software

Well I thought I would report on the status of the Dragon speech to text software.
Yesterday, I purchased a 1 GB upgrade memory stick for $45 at Staples,  and installed it
Finally,  I was able to install Dragon software and I'm using it to dictate this blog entry.

 It's pretty freaking good if you asked me. It's amazing that  even after a few minutes of training I can speak into the microphone and have the text printed out on the screen as if I was a very fast typist.

Okay, I did need to do a little editing. But not as much as I would've thought.

I don't think I will ever type again.
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Fixed Income and Unfixed costs

For the past several years I have dutifully scanned the various job listings Internet for a good part time job.  I think I have wasted enough of your time griping about the seemingly nonexistent demand for skilled professionals who are only willing to work 20-24 hours per week. 

So it is that I remain on a fixed income (SS) plus the few occasional shekels I receive from oddball projects and selling my original works of sheer genius, humor and pathos as fillers for mass media.  The additional income barely covers my Starbucks and bar bills, so I am relegated to funding the bulk of living expenses against the SS pension.  I call myself a FFIY  (Frugal Fixed Income Yankee).

"What about your nest egg?"  you are probably asking.  You assume that I have stashed away a couple of mil against the future.  Or maybe you think I have a hidden trust fund like Paris Hilton. Well, dear reader, we are Irish, so instead of inheriting a trust fund, we had to chip in to bury my widowed mother a decade ago.

As for the nest egg, well some [expletive deleted] is probably living in Rio de Janeiro sitting on a beach surrounded by semi-naked young women, with an ice chest full of Sierra Nevada, puffing on a Cuban Presidente on the money we had invested in AIG before the big crash.   I am not jealous. 
I am confident that the Almighty has a plan for me too.  That's why I dutifully buy Powerball tickets, every week.

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Unfixed Prices.
Americans are not accustomed to haggling over prices.  Somehow we have been instilled with the idea that it is insulting to the seller for us to offer a drastically low price for a product or service.  We tend to think all prices are fixed.  Well, honey, they aren't!

At the Mall a few weeks ago, I happened upon a kiosk that was selling Dragon Software.  For those who aren't familiar, this software lets you talk into a mike, and the computer types out the text into a document that you can store and save. Pretty cool stuff for a writer, eh?  Especially one who types with two fingers, who has twenty years' worth of handwritten journals to transcribe...  

Well, I decided I needed this software.  The list price for the basic home edition is normally $99, but they were selling it on a holiday special for $75 (plus 6% state sales tax).  I resisted the urge to buy it n the spot, mainly because I am a frugal fixed-income Yankee who needs to check out all the details before I buy something.  There were questions:  will it play on my operating system? how much training is needed, yadda yadda.  Can I run it on more than one computer? What if I want to write in french?
I checked out a few of the usual internet sales outfits, and found various prices for the same item.
 Last week I ordered a copy of the software online at Amazon for $39 free shipping, no tax.  It was delivered three days later. (I haven't loaded the disk yet. Stay tuned for my product review.)
The point is that the price of things is so relative as to be shockingly disparate.  I checked today, and Amazon has raised their price to $49 plus $4.99 for shipping. 

I wonder what the price will be tomorrow.
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UPDATE:
I attempted to load the software, but the disk could not be read.  My DVD plays music disks so I think it still works for data.  I called the help desk, and did not have to wait.  The Tech Support guy (Rod) gave me a link to download the installation files via internet.  This failed, the error message says I do not have enough RAM to run the software.  Fine tiime to tell me.

Humph!  Now I will have to spend hundreds to use my new $40 software package.  Time for a new Laptop? 
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The Dragon in my Basement

This morning, my wife admitted that she was responsible for the recent flood in our basement.

"I should have known better," She said.

"What?"

"The Dragon. I put him down in the basement on the elfa shelving, near the cat box. I thought it might help prevent, you know, accidents."

Of course, she was referring to the priceless dragon vase that had been handed-down through countless generations of her family.
Perhaps some long-dead forebear had found the treasure during an archaeological dig on a perilous trip to some ancient Chinese city. Then, sometime after the establishment of electrical power, some artless utilitarian had drilled a hole in the bottom and turned it into a lamp, a fact which actually made it just about worthless (another way of saying priceless, n'est ce pas?). Or maybe her mother bought it at Walmart. We'll probably never know.
A few months ago, my wife decided that she preferred it as an ornament as opposed to light source, and so she had restored it to its natural power. To the superstitious, the emblem - a coiled dragon - represents a potent symbol which is capable of warding-off unlucky and evil spirits. In case you have not been paying attention, you should know that your life is ruled by Feng Shui (pronounced fung shway).

If your wife believes in Feng Shui, you might as well believe in it too, because since she rules your life, you are stuck living in a house that is arranged with mirrors facing specific directions and dragons watching over you.

My wife realized the error of placing a dragon in the basement after perusing her dog-eared copy of Feng Shui Room by Room. Not only was the dragon annoyed at being placed on a shelf near the litter box in the cellar, but he was facing outward (to ward-off evil spirits from the street). Two no-no's.

"The dragon must face inward," she said, as if quoting some rule. "But, not to worry. He is now upstairs and facing the right way. Everything will be OK now."

Somehow I was not much comforted, noting that the forecast was for three more days of rain.

She looked at me and smiled.

"It's not raining rain you know, it's raining violets..."

I went down to the cellar to check my pumps. Floor dry. Electricity on. Pumps pumping.

When I came back upstairs she remarked that I appeared to be calmer. My brow, which had become sore from frowning about the water, seemed less tense. I shrugged.

"See, it's working. The curse is lifted."

"Yeah, we'll see" I muttered as I went out to take another load of soggy paper and ruined furniture to the dump. Standing by the van, I had to squint at the abrupt break in the clouds and the bright sun fighting its way through the mist.

Unconsciously, I began looking for a bluebird, and listening for its song.