Here is the song Comfortably Numb, from THE WALL, performed by Roger Waters at Madison Square Garden on October 6, 2010. Recorded on an iPhone 4 from the audience. Some interference and the audio is a little tinny, but you can get an idea of how good the performance was. Only wish it had been David Gilmour on top of that wall !! Click the link below to watch the video.
Category Archives: Stream of thought
Line 2 for iPhone vs the competition
|iPhone VoIP App Comparison
The First Dual-Mode, Professional-Grade Calling App for the iPhone
|Separate Number (Two Numbers on One Phone)||Yes||Yes||No`||Yes||No||No|
|Receive Inbound Calls||Yes – WiFi or Cellular||Only Via Cell Forwarding||No||Wi-Fi Only||No||Only Through Cell Forwarding or SIP Integration|
|Place Outbound Calls||Yes – WiFi or Cellular||WiFi and 3G Only||Yes – WiFi or Cellular||Wi-Fi Only||Yes – WiFi or Cellular||Only Through Cell Forwarding or SIP Integration|
|Support iOS4 Backgrounding||Yes||Yes – Limited||No||No||No||No|
|Business PBX Features (auto-attendant, multi-line support, unified billing, etc)||Yes||No||No||No||No||No|
|PC/Mac Calling Via Integrated Softphone||Yes||Yes||Not Integrated with Mobile App||No||No||No|
|Call Screening / Call Announce / Caller ID Based Routing||Yes||No||No||No||No||No|
|Visual Voicemail w/ Voicemail by Email||Yes||Yes – Limited||No||No||Only for Calls from Other TruPhone Users. No Email||No|
|Texting with any SMS-Capable Phone||Not Currently||Limited – Outbound Only, Pay Per Message $.11/text||No||No||Limited – Outbound Only, Pay Per Message $.20/text||No – SMS Limited to Fring to Fring Texts|
|Others Can Text You First||Not Currently||Limited – Sent Through iPhone Carrier Number Not Skype||No||No||No – Only Truphone to Truphone Texts||No|
|Receive SMS Replies||Not Currently||No||No||No||No – Only Truphone to Truphone Texts||No|
|Price for Phone Number, Voicemail, Unlimited US/Canada Calling, and Other Features||$9.95/month||$6.95/month||$24.95/month. Some International Destinations. Excludes Inbound Calls||$9.95/month||$17/month. Some International Destinations. Excludes Inbound Calls||Free with Ads|
|Advanced Call Control Features for VoIP calls||Yes||No||No||No||No||No|
|Conferencing||Yes – 20 people||Cannot Initiate||No||No||No||No|
Super Harvest Moon
Tuesday marked a relatively rare phenomenon known as the Super Harvest Moon. What this means is that the full moon falls on or close to the autumn equinox. Well, Tuesday was the autumn equinox as well as the full moon. I was watching it as I drove home from an exhausting visit to a rehabilitation home where an elderly friend of ours is convalescing. It didn’t look any different from other full moons, although I see from various pictures on the internet that I must live on a different planet, because the pictures they posted and what I saw are two completely different things. Same big orb. Maybe a little brighter, but where did all that orange hue come from? I bet it was created by a camera filter!
So what makes this kind of full moon super? The fact that it appears on a day where there are equal amounts of daylight and darkness doesn’t make any difference to the appearance of the moon, although the “authorities” beg to differ. The only people who would probably care about this sort of thing must be witches and warlocks and other assorted occult oriented persons, for whom a Super Harvest Moon (or the Harvestest Moon as it is sometimes called), on one of the major event days in the Wiccan calendar has to mean a big boost with the ceremonies and rituals and such. Unless of course, it’s overcast:)
According to NASA, there’s a special twilight glow produced by the sun setting while the moon is rising, meaning that both are in the sky at the same time. Possibly, this may produce the vision inducing kind of twilight they speak of, but it must occur for only a few fleeting minutes, and I missed it. When I saw the moon, there was no sun. What’s more interesting is that Jupiter is also in the night sky, forming a conjunction with the full moon that promises to be spectacular. Unfortunately for me I couldn’t spot this either. Jupiter is making its closest approach to Earth in years, in fact it will not get this close again for another twenty two years, but it rises in the East, along with the Harvest moon, and while there might be a point at which the two are separated enough to provide a visual spectacle, it probably occurs around midnight, when both Jupiter and the moon are overhead in the Eastern sky. At midnight I was deep in dreamless (or not), sleep. Another strike out in the moon watching department. I wonder whether the Super Harvest Moon makes people crazier than usual. I mean, its common knowledge that some people are affected by the full moon so maybe the super duper one has a super duper effect on them. Must be a field day for werewolves. I have big plans to investigate all this related phenomena at the next Super lunar event but I guess I’ll have to wait another twenty two years for that. Most probably I’ll be in the nursing home I was returning from when I first caught a glimpse of the Super Harvest Moon.
A dog’s life
On Wednesday I take Tyler to the vet. He’s a fourteen years old, a mixed black lab with arthritic legs and a slowing metabolism. Recently he’s developed Cushing’s Syndrome, a hormonal imbalance of the adrenal glands that makes dogs obese and weak. I thought of him as fat and lazy earlier, but now he has exceeded my imagination. Sad really, because it’s a part of the illness and nothing to do with his greed, which remains unabated. I wonder what he thinks as I bring the car around to take him to the clinic. He loves to ride in the car. What dog doesn’t? He scrambles to get in, not even waiting for the door to open, slobbering on the windows and down the back of my neck until we reach our destination. Now he balks, The floor of the car is too high for him to clamber into and Michael has to lift him in, literally. Usually he walks to the vet. It’s just three blocks total, and every lamp post, tuft of grass and postage size patch of turf needs to be investigated and irrigated. A slow laborious process. Sometimes twenty minutes or more pass before we reach our destination. Those days are long gone now. He’s too weak to walk that far. Even half way around our block is a major effort.
He’s become familiar with the sliding glass doors of the clinic. in spite of limping up to them he wants to turn back but there’s no choice, either for him or for me. The blood tests are necessary to determine if he’s taking the right amount of medication. I shudder to think it might be increased. The pills make him sleep a lot. It’s a production to make him swallow them. With other stuff we break open capsules or crush tablets and mix it in his food, but this drug is toxic to humans (maybe) so he has to be tricked into swallowing them. For a while mixing them in tuna worked, but he learned to sniff out the capsule and leave it on a side while eating the fish. Our latest ruse is to make tiny slits in cocktail franks and push the capsules into them. He loves sausages of all kinds. I’m sure he knows there’s something else inside but hey, he’s a dog, and dogs will eat any kind of sausage. It seems to be working for now.
At the clinic, he looks at me with sad eyes. I feel so guilty I can’t meet his stare. I know I’ll have to leave him there until the evening, and hate it. I wonder what goes on in his head as he lies there on the cold white tiled floor, waiting for me to leave. I’ve heard that dogs have no idea of time. That a day is like a week or month to them. So any separation must feel like abandonment. Maybe this is how older people who live in homes feel when they first go in there, or later still, as people come in to visit, always leaving after a short while. Do these people wonder if that person will ever come back, and when? People have a sense of their own mortality, so at some point it must feel like it is a final goodbye when a friend or relative walks out the door. Do dogs sense their own mortality too. Anecdotal evidence seems to say they do. Maybe Tyler looks at me as I walk away towards the glass doors and wonders if I’m coming back. I try not to turn back, but can’t help myself. I have to look. Every time could be the last time.