Electronics

All Poems, Change, Cousins, Electronics, Emotions, Family, Stories, Weddings

Waiting for the Call

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I started waiting for the call at three.

The first part of the time frame established.

Earlier in the week.

Saturday, between three and five.

I texted, asking if he was ready to talk.

No answer.

So, I continued working on my laptop.

Till Bob suggested a walk.

I guess he forgot, I lamented.

As we spun around the neighborhood.

Upon return, WhatsApp tinged.

Asking pardon for not calling.

He was at the gym.

Forgot his phone.

Can I call soon? he typed.

Very soon, I replied. We’ll be eating in half an hour.

Two minutes, flashed the reply.

In two, the cell rang.

My young cousin from Santiago.

Whom we hosted seventeen years ago.

So he could attend high school in Upper Dublin.

Learn English, see some sites.

Philadelphia, Baltimore, DC, Boston.

Now telling me his wedding date.

Could we come to Chile?

And, maybe in two years, we could meet in New York.

He and his wife, coming to the US for a month in Spring, 2026.

It was a conversation full of details, news.

Lots of catch-up.

Family, career, life in general.

Did I mention?  It was all in Spanish.

Soft tones of Santiago.

Not the jarring sh sounds of Buenos Aires.

Martín doesn’t yet speak English.

I did my best, listening, responding.

In my rusty Spanish.

I think I got the gist.

The important information.

The sense of being remembered.

Not mislaid in life’s press.

Joy of reconnection.

Soul-warming blessedness.

 

Lynn Benjamin

June 9, 2024

All Poems, Electronics, Humor, Loss

Long Live the Dishwasher

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Long live the dishwasher, said Bob.

Filling it with drinking glasses, cups.

Turning it on for the first time.

After repair early in the morning.

A week of hand washing, drying.

Machine sitting empty.

No hum evenings after dinner.

No putting away clean plates in the morning.

No help with pots or pans.

After sautéing or roasting.

Simmering or baking.

Just rolling up sleeves.

Scrubbing, scouring.

The old-fashioned way.

Easy to do when just for two.

But when company comes to sup,

we exult to have a machine that whirls,

chivalrously cleaning up!

 

Lynn Benjamin

April 19, 2024

All Poems, Electronics, Family, Humor, Spouses, Stories

Back to the Old Days

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It’s back to the old days, said Bob.

When we washed dishes by hand.

Thought nothing if it.

One washed.

The other dried, put away.

Well, I answered, what did the repairman say?

Hoping it was an easy fix.

He messed with electronics, breaking it completely, Bob lamented.

The top drawer of the Fisher & Paykel, functioning.

The bottom drawer, kaput.

Now neither worked.

Too bad I scheduled a large cooking project today.

Making cod croquettes to freeze for Passover.

But, the task got done.

Fish balls fried golden, crisp.

The old team washed and dried.

Machine, we hardly missed.

 

Lynn Benjamin

April 13, 2024

 

Aging, All Poems, Electronics, Humor, Loss, Time

Certain I’d Hear Back

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I waited, certain I’d hear back from the Apple Store.

That my new Mac Air was ready for pick-up.

That the data migration was complete.

From the Mac Pro to the Air.

Transfer decided upon to prevent problems.

Before the old laptop failed.

For it was from 2016.

Computer years are like dog years, Bob explained.

If each one is about seven, your laptop is aging fast.

Chips have changed.

Models have moved on.

It’s harder to update apps.

Nevermind I was attached to my machine.

Originally using it for work.

Taking it with me on trips.

Giving it an honored place on my desk.

It was easy to instruct.

Swift, reliable.

But, those warnings about future health, dire.

So, I waited, but no call came.

Which meant another morning.

Spent in the Apple Store.

Where I’m sure I’ll wander

among shiny new machines,

calculate my own old age,

and consider what that means.

 

Lynn Benjamin

April 4, 2024

 

Aging, All Poems, Change, Electronics, Family, Health/Illness, Humor, Spouses

Old Geezer

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I feel like an old geezer, said Bob.

Things just aren’t made the way they used to be.

I thought he meant the five-year-old Frigidaire freezer that failed.

The numerous printers that lasted a year or two.

The cellphones, laptops engineered to be traded in three.

In contrast to the chest freezer at our old house.

Humming along for thirty years.

Or the Amana refrigerator left behind at the new one.

Made in 1996, still working.

But then, my brain lit up.

Maybe he just meant he’s not the way he used to be.

Eroding with age.

Not running like he did.

Fraying tendons in fingers.

Cardiac electrical glitches.

Degenerating spinal discs.

Though made well at the start,

wear and tear take a toll.

Who wants late life jobs

in quality control?

 

Lynn Benjamin

December 11, 2023

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aging, All Poems, Death, Electronics, Humor, Loss

Only Five Years Ago

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Only five years ago, my father passed.

Moving me to think about mortality.

Obituaries, bequeathals.

To bid my children remember me.

As they ate cakes, pies, breads.

Left to them in my freezer.

Each tagged, dated, prepared by me.

But, weeks ago, the new upright freezer failed.

After a handful of years.

Compressor no longer up to the job.

All its contents defrosted, soggy.

Sitting in heat, not cold.

Carried to trash.

Freezer, empty.

Waiting for resuscitation.

Quite unexpected, the freezer died

before my wish satisfied.  

Unlike me, components resupplied.

When I go, new parts denied.

 

Lynn Benjamin

December 6, 2023

All Poems, Electronics, Food, Holidays, Humor, Thanksgiving

One Way to Clean a Freezer

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Who relishes the job of cleaning out a freezer?

Turning it off, removing contents?

Defrosting it, wiping it down?

Likely, few of us.

Certainly, not my husband and I.

So, we purchased a frostless Frigidaire.

Upright, easy to organize.

For five years, jamming it full.

Cakes, breads, pies.

Cooked meals for post-trip returns.

Even berries from our former garden.

Last night, just returned from LA, we opened it.

To grab a pesto from the dozens made.

With basil from the summer bounty.

When liquid rained down on shoes, floor.

Everything soft, melted, gone.

Pies for Thanksgiving, ice cream.

Kugels, yeast and breakfast breads.

All now for trash.

Late night forced evacuation of goods.

Some about to be served.

Others forgotten, lost with labels from years ago.

That’s one way to clean a freezer

with an unforeseen compressor thaw.

All the time spent preserving goods,

now dished to waste collection’s jaw.

 

Lynn Benjamin

November 29, 2023

 

 

All Poems, Children, Electronics, Family, Grandchildren, People Traits

Children Have Traits

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All children have traits that others notice.

Some, physical beauty.

Others, a sunny temperament.

Gymnastic agility.

Artistic or linguistic talent.

Ezra, five, excels in math.

Has since age three.

Attracted to numbers.

Address signs.

Counting games.

Adding, subtracting with ease.

Lately, multiplying, dividing.

Dabbling in algebra.

Delighting in negative numbers.

Fractions, decimals.

Playing on calculators.

Solving problems on DreamBox.

Ezra amazes me.

Because I had little interest in math as a child.

Perhaps its possibilities frightened me.

Or its roots in reality.

For I lived in imagination.

How can a five-year-old make numeric connections?

Calculate days in a week, a month, a year?

Figure out miles per second, minute, hour?

Understand measurements, money?

With the dexterity of an acrobat?

What combination of genes

confers these awesome powers?

Motivating him to train

with exuberance for hours?

 

Lynn Benjamin

November 26, 2023

All Poems, Disappointment, Electronics

How Do You Respond?

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How do you respond when a battery designed to help, hurts?

When the Generac Power Cell, installed to keep power on, turns it off?

Leaves you in the dark for hours?

After a brief power surge.

When you call customer service on what’s left of your iPhone battery?

Because you have no power to charge it.

When the call’s dropped twice?

The rep doesn’t call you back?

When you’re hunting for boxes and wires with flashlights?

On stepstools because you can’t reach cabinets?

How do you respond when your refrigerators and freezers don’t work?

When it’s up to you to figure out a complex system?

Do you keep calm though anxious?

Pray?

Hope?

Wrack your brain for solutions?

Keep calling the representatives after disconnections?

Wait through menus and music?

Remain determined?

Despite the upset that a costly unit failed?

It took two hours to restore the light

though the problem still not known.

Unfortunate when a source of comfort

becomes unannounced millstone.

 

Lynn Benjamin

September 30, 2023

Aging, All Poems, Electronics, Humor

Paper

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I’m so excited, I said to two friends.

Pulling out a pad of paper.

Which I used to call a tablet.

This just arrived an hour ago.

What is it? one asked.

Paper, I said as we walked.

In response, I love paper. Journaling books with graph paper, designs.

Three of us from an older generation.

Growing up with composition books.

Loose leaf paper.

Diaries.

Newspapers delivered to the door.

Though some of it exists today, less prevalent.

Instead, laptops, desktops, touchscreen tablets.

Assignments sent electronically to teachers.

Minimizing the use of paper.

Surely better for the environment.

But, I grew up with paper in my hand.

I use it now to jot down thoughts, pictures, sounds.

Mourning doves cooing in a parking lot.

Burbling fountains in the neighborhood.

A pink dahlia facing away from the garden.

Just recently, I found the perfect size to write on.

At an office in Damariscotta, Maine.

A give-away post-it note, 3.5 by 5.5 inches.

But, on Amazon, I could only find 4 by 6 inch notepads.

Which would also fit into a pocket or water carrier.

As I walked and scribbled.

Impossible to find a pad of paper by typing tablet into Amazon.

For then electronics pop right up!

It’s either memo pad or scratch.

One or the other boasts paper tablets.

All shapes, sizes to mix, to match!

 

Lynn Benjamin

August 19, 2023