After 40 years as a computer programmer and game developer—and the passing of his wife of 47 years—Rick has retired and is now living in Ye Olde Folks Home, where he still tinkers with tech and likes to write these amusing and/or thoughtful tales about his storied life.

An Embarrassing Moment
In Memoriam: Betty Edwards-Vessel
A Little Knowledge is a Dangerous Thing
Who Would Jesus Stab?
The Eggshell Incident
First Chapel Service at Ye Olde Folks Home
A Yearly Ritual at Menards
“Mr. Loftus, the Town Hero”
The FCAL Project
Pepe Le Pew Finds New Lodgings
In Memoriam: Dale Lear
Bingo Bedlam at Ye Olde Folks Home
There’s a Shortage of Perfect Movies…
One Day at the DMV
A Visitor from Microsoft
“He Who Should Not Be Named”
Downton… Abbey?
This Home is a Liver-Free Zone
My 9/11 Rememberances
My Yearly Pumpkin Spice Rant
Done In By Baker’s Square
My Eulogy for Alice
“Dear Rikki…”
A Clean, Well-lighted Place for Books
Memories of my First Computer
A Little Excitement at the Staff Meeting
The Tale of Mrs. Butler
Sun, Sand, and a Margarita
“Thou Shalt Not Steal”
Troubleshooting at Ye Olde Folks Home
Stories of my Mother
I’ve Heard Angels Sing
Elevator Mishap at the Eye Clinic
One Day at Fair, Isaac
Saturday Morning Cartoons
A Sprig of Parsley
Fun With Recruitment Ads
Leave Her to Heaven
“Squirrel!”
Bring me Dave Bringle!
Beware! The Oldsters Are Coming!
Life Among the Progressives
A Family Ritual While Watching Masterpiece
The Unforgettable General Oppy
“Don’t Even THINK About Parking Here”
A Dubious Plan Gone Awry
The Singing Christmas Tree!
One Day in the Hospital Lab
The Legend of the Broken Timer
Nelson’s Fruit Stand
This One Time in Glee Club…
Star Trek References for the Win
Family Psalm, Stuck in Lodi
Vacation in Branson
Clyde and Ruth Revisited
COVID Policies During my Wife’s Fatal Illness
I Guess I’m the Shadow IT Department Now
The Tale of Clyde and Ruth
My Garden of Gethsemane Story
We Might Get a Virus!

A Little Knowledge is a Dangerous Thing

Church this morning was fun. During the greeting time I spotted a familiar face but had to admit I’d forgotten his name.

“Mark,” he told me, then asked for my name in turn.

“Rick,” I responded, then had to repeat myself several times as he misheard me and echoed back several names in error.

I have no idea where this came from, but at that point I said, “Rick” again, fingerspelling R I C K in my typical clumsy fashion.

“Ah, ‘Rick,’” he said, quickly fingerspelling R I C K back to me, his fingers flashing in a fluent, experienced manner.

It was at that point I realized Mark was wearing a huge hearing aid, much more noticeable than the cute little hearing aids behind my ears—obviously he has a more pronounced hearing loss than mine. And he was probably reading lips, which would explain his confusion on my name.

Oops. Now Mark thinks I know sign language. This could get dicey. I only know a grand total of five signs and fingerspelling for perhaps half the alphabet. I wish I knew sign language but haven’t really had a chance to learn yet.

But then the service resumed and I was out of danger.

I recounted this amusing anecdote to two friends after church, and coincidentally, it turned out that one of them is married to a person who knows sign language, and the other knows sign language herself.

This is, of course, a wonderful example of post hoc ergo propter hoc, but I’m thinking this might be a sign that I need to pursue this aforementioned wish further, might you think?