COMMENTERRY--

My Facebook account got whacked, or hacked, or whatever last month.  Some geek scumbag in a small, New Jersey town managed to imitate my account then attempted to convince some of my FB friends "I" could make them rich.

It was, of course, a ploy to get people to reveal personal information this schemer could use to cause them financial harm.

After a couple of astute inquiries from potential victims I posted a warning on FB this had happened and commended those who realized this was, indeed, a scheme with a very offensive odor.

I then went to work trying to use tools available on FB to stop such nonsense.  That effort led me to a demand by FB's system that I change my email address.  That, I refused to do.  It was their lax security that allowed this to happen.  They could fix the problem.

Naturally I was embroiled in a totally impersonal process with them and their system was offering no other solution.  That stalled my account and, as far as I know, that's where it remains today.

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When a person like me arrives at bachelor-hood unintended that event usually happens without ever having the benefit of any home-ec schooling along the way.

I also had enjoyed a lifetime of pleasure avoiding those syndicated columnists spouting blizzards of advice on managing the distaff side of a household.

Shortly after I lost my bride, the folly of not paying closer attention to her wifely toils became apparent.

Imagine how proud I was recently after I developed the marvelous idea of pinning my dark socks together before tossing them in the wash.

Now, I hardly ever arrive in public with one sock noticeably black--and the other some shade of blue.

I'm still working on the problem of making plastic wrap behave.

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Then, there is this display of cabinetry compliments of the Menards store in Ontario, Ohio:

Doesn't the "quality" of that center section just make you tingle all over!

(Cell phone photo taken 7:08 p.m., September 30, 2013)