RobbieB haven't seen you around for awhile

[Markola]

The trick to social media is taking the pearls and leaving the rest, not that I’ve fully mastered it.

 

[marko]

I agree with all you have said. I also really like this forum and the people on it. I also don't have much to offer in the fine details of finances but love to be part of threads with my experiences, thoughts and views.

After a while, you feel like you know some of the folks here and you do miss them when they disappear, even for a while.

Is it healthy to have 'friends' who use anonymous names and who you'll never likely get to meet? I don't know but such is the internet; it works for me though. At least here. I really do feel like part of a community.

 

[pacergal]

The trick to social media is taking the pearls and leaving the rest, not that I’ve fully mastered it.

exactly, great post!

After a while, you feel like you know some of the folks here and you do miss them when they disappear, even for a while.

Is it healthy to have 'friends' who use anonymous names and who you'll never likely get to meet? I don't know but such is the internet; it works for me though. At least here.

I feel the same. I feel a connectedness to many on the forum, even though I could pass you on the street and not know who you are!!
I do miss many of the folks who stop posting, I wonder what they are doing and hope they are well.
I don't mind the "repeat type" of questions, mostly from new folks. That's how I learned so much when I first joined.

 

[braumeister]

Is it healthy to have 'friends' who use anonymous names and who you'll never likely get to meet?

... said Bruce Wayne to Clark Kent.

 

[ejman]

Here is what ChatGP had to say "
Once upon a time, there was a bucket of paint that sat forgotten in a closet for 13 long years. It had been purchased with great excitement by a young couple who had just moved into their first home, but after painting a single room, they had never found the time to finish the rest. The bucket was left in the closet, pushed to the back and covered in a layer of dust, as the years ticked by.
But then, on a rainy day, something miraculous happened. The couple's grown-up daughter came to visit her childhood home and decided to do some tidying up. She opened the closet door and saw the old bucket of paint, looking just as it had all those years ago. On a whim, she decided to take it out and see if it was still usable.As she popped open the lid, she was amazed to find that the paint was still perfectly liquid and free of lumps. She couldn't believe it had sat in the closet for 13 years and was still in good condition. The daughter grinned and realized that it was time to finally use the paint tofinish what her parents had started.With a renewed sense of purpose, she began painting the walls of the house, one room at a time. As she worked, she found herself thinking about her parents and the memories they had made in this very home. The bucket of paint had been there all along, waiting for someone to give it a purpose, and now it was finally being put to use.
Days turned into weeks, and the daughter painted her way through the entire house. The walls were transformed from drab and lifeless to bright and full of color. As she stood back to admire her work, the daughter felt a sense of pride and accomplishment wash over her. It was amazing to think that all of this had started with a forgotten bucket of paint.In the end, the daughter felt as though she had not only transformed the house but also reconnected with her family's past. The bucket of paint had been a reminder of the hopes and dreams her parents had when they first moved in, and now it was a symbol of the love and care that had been put into the home over the years. The daughter smiled as she looked at the freshly painted walls, knowing that the old bucket of paint had played a small but important part in bringing it all to life."

 

[tmm99]

I hope robbieB comes back. I enjoyed his posts - his take on things especially.

 

[Dreamer]

exactly, great post!



I feel the same. I feel a connectedness to many on the forum, even though I could pass you on the street and not know who you are!!
I do miss many of the folks who stop posting, I wonder what they are doing and hope they are well.
I don't mind the "repeat type" of questions, mostly from new folks. That's how I learned so much when I first joined.

+1000

 

[JoeWras]

Is it healthy to have 'friends' who use anonymous names and who you'll never likely get to meet? I don't know but such is the internet; it works for me though. At least here. I really do feel like part of a community.

OK, I've thought about this.

Yes, it is OK. Why? Because you at least interact in some way. What isn't healthy is considering celebrities as 'friends.' This is very common and not healthy.

 

[JoeWras]

Here is what ChatGP had to say "
Once upon a time, there was a bucket of paint that sat forgotten in a closet for 13 long years. It had been purchased with great excitement by a young couple who had just moved into their first home, but after painting a single room, they had never found the time to finish the rest. The bucket was left in the closet, pushed to the back and covered in a layer of dust, as the years ticked by.
But then, on a rainy day, something miraculous happened. The couple's grown-up daughter came to visit her childhood home and decided to do some tidying up. She opened the closet door and saw the old bucket of paint, looking just as it had all those years ago. On a whim, she decided to take it out and see if it was still usable.As she popped open the lid, she was amazed to find that the paint was still perfectly liquid and free of lumps. She couldn't believe it had sat in the closet for 13 years and was still in good condition. The daughter grinned and realized that it was time to finally use the paint tofinish what her parents had started.With a renewed sense of purpose, she began painting the walls of the house, one room at a time. As she worked, she found herself thinking about her parents and the memories they had made in this very home. The bucket of paint had been there all along, waiting for someone to give it a purpose, and now it was finally being put to use.
Days turned into weeks, and the daughter painted her way through the entire house. The walls were transformed from drab and lifeless to bright and full of color. As she stood back to admire her work, the daughter felt a sense of pride and accomplishment wash over her. It was amazing to think that all of this had started with a forgotten bucket of paint.In the end, the daughter felt as though she had not only transformed the house but also reconnected with her family's past. The bucket of paint had been a reminder of the hopes and dreams her parents had when they first moved in, and now it was a symbol of the love and care that had been put into the home over the years. The daughter smiled as she looked at the freshly painted walls, knowing that the old bucket of paint had played a small but important part in bringing it all to life."

OMG, I never thought of doing this. However, I want to say, rayinpenn would surely deal with lumps. ChatGPT took a shortcut and said there were no lumps. Sorry, there are going to be lumps! I miss rayinpenn!

Now, I tried ChatGPT and sure enough, no lumps again! I call that a shortcut. (It is a completely different story and interesting on its own, but not of rayinpenn quality.)

The old house on Maple Street had been vacant for years, but on this rainy day, a group of contractors were hired to clear out the debris and prepare it for renovation. As they made their way through the rooms, hauling out old furniture and ripping down rotting wallpaper, one of the workers noticed an old closet tucked away in a corner of the living room.

Curiosity getting the best of him, the worker swung open the closet door and was surprised to find a bucket of paint sitting on a shelf. It was covered in dust and cobwebs, and the label had faded with age, but it was clear that the paint had not been touched in years.

As the worker reached for the bucket, memories flooded back to him. He remembered when the previous owners of the house had hired him to paint the living room. He had mixed a special shade of blue for the walls, and had just enough paint leftover to fill the bucket.

He remembered how the owners had suddenly decided to move to another state, leaving behind their unfinished home and the bucket of paint hidden away in the closet. It had been over 13 years since he last saw that bucket, and he had assumed it was lost forever.

As he stared at the bucket, a feeling of nostalgia washed over him. He wondered if the paint was still good, or if it had dried up and become unusable after all those years. He decided to take a chance and opened the lid, revealing a still-liquid shade of blue paint.

Without hesitation, the worker grabbed a roller and began painting the living room walls, marveling at how the color still looked as vibrant as it did all those years ago. As he worked, he couldn't help but feel a sense of closure and completion, as if he was finishing a job that had been left unfinished for far too long.

The rain continued to pour outside as he worked, but inside the old house, a new life was beginning to take shape. The bucket of paint hidden away in the closet for 13 years had finally been found, and it was being put to good use once again.

 

[tmm99]

Such is the new world. I've had this remote freelance gig for several years and I've never met any of my coworkers in person or even talked on the phone. They all live in different time zones/countries, and the branch that assigns us projects is in Asia, but we develop good working relationships as we communicate with one another often (via Skype messaging system) and sometimes, we start sharing each other's personal lives. It all feels real and it is real. The only difference is that we've never physically met or even talked on the phone, but if we were in the same city, we would definitely want to connect.

 

[ejman]

OMG, I never thought of doing this. However, I want to say, rayinpenn would surely deal with lumps. ChatGPT took a shortcut and said there were no lumps. Sorry, there are going to be lumps! I miss rayinpenn!

Now, I tried ChatGPT and sure enough, no lumps again! I call that a shortcut. (It is a completely different story and interesting on its own, but not of rayinpenn quality.)

Its interesting that the "feeling" of both ChatGPT stories is similar. Unlike MarieIG post which was truly original and creative. BTW miss the blow the dough posts as well.

 

[JoeWras]

Its interesting that the "feeling" of both ChatGPT stories is similar. Unlike MarieIG post which was truly original and creative. BTW miss the blow the dough posts as well.

Isn't it, though? Different stories, same feeling.

I'd hate to tell ChatGPT that the bucket of paint had no label because the roaches and mice ate it. ChatGPT sees things in such sunshine.

Wait a minute, I can try again. Here it goes. To ChatGPT: "Tell me a story about a 13 year old bucket of paint found in a closet on a rainy day. The paint has no label since it was eaten by roaches and mice."

LOL! Still no lumps, still the same feeling. I'm so glad ChatGPT is optimistic! I really hate to say this, but this actually is very much like a rayinpenn story. ChatGPT may have been reading stories here.

Here it is:

The rain was pouring down heavily as Claire and her family decided to clean out the old abandoned house they had just inherited from her grandparents. The house was old and run-down, and nobody had lived in it for many years. As they made their way through the dusty and cobweb-filled rooms, they came across an old closet that had been hidden away behind a pile of debris.

Curiosity getting the better of her, Claire opened the door to the closet, and her eyes widened in amazement as she saw an old bucket of paint sitting on a shelf. It was covered in dust and cobwebs, and the label had been eaten away by roaches and mice. The paint had been sitting there for 13 years, untouched and forgotten.

Despite the fact that the paint had no label and was most likely expired, Claire couldn't resist the urge to try it out. She had always been fascinated by art and had been looking for a new project to work on. She thought that maybe she could use the paint to create something unique.

Without hesitation, Claire grabbed the bucket of paint and took it outside to the porch, where she set up a small painting station. She decided to test out the paint on a canvas that her grandfather had left behind.

As she began to paint, she noticed that the paint had not dried up or become unusable, despite sitting in the closet for over a decade. The colors were vibrant and unique, and she had never seen anything like it before. The paint seemed to take on a life of its own as she worked, creating a painting that was both beautiful and haunting.

Claire continued to work on her painting for hours, lost in the joy of creating something new and unique. The rain continued to pour down, but she didn't care. She was too engrossed in her art to worry about the weather.

As she put the finishing touches on her painting, she realized that the old bucket of paint had become something special. It had been hidden away for years, forgotten and lost, but it had been rediscovered and given new life. The paint may have no label, but it had become a symbol of creativity and perseverance.

From that day forward, Claire continued to use the old bucket of paint in her art, creating beautiful and unique works that would have never been possible without it. The paint may have been forgotten for 13 years, but it had been given a new lease on life, thanks to Claire's creativity and determination.

 

[Sunset]

After a while, you feel like you know some of the folks here and you do miss them when they disappear, even for a while.

Is it healthy to have 'friends' who use anonymous names and who you'll never likely get to meet? I don't know but such is the internet; it works for me though. At least here. I really do feel like part of a community.

I think it's healthy.
Of course in my mind, I form mental pictures of various people, so if we ever meet in person I'll be the person with the SHOCKED look on my face as my mental pictures are often inaccurate!

 

[braumeister]

Isn't it, though? Different stories, same feeling.

And here is Bard's take on it. Once again, facts are discarded when they get in the way:

Write a story about a can of paint that sat in a closet for 13 years. When it was found it was rock hard and the label had been eaten away by rats.
=====================================

The can of paint sat in the closet for 13 years. It was a small can, about the size of a shoebox, and it was filled with a bright blue paint. The paint was still wet when it was put away, but over the years it had dried and hardened. The label on the can had been eaten away by rats, so there was no way to tell what kind of paint it was or where it had come from.

One day, the closet was being cleaned out, and the can of paint was discovered. It was picked up and examined, but no one could figure out what it was. Some people thought it was a relic from the past, while others thought it was just a piece of junk. Eventually, the can of paint was thrown away.

But the can of paint didn't want to be thrown away. It wanted to be used. So, one night, the can of paint escaped from the trash can and went back to the closet. It hid behind the clothes and waited for someone to find it again.

A few days later, a little girl was playing in the closet. She found the can of paint and was curious about it. She opened the can and took a sniff. The paint smelled like blueberries. The little girl smiled and put the can of paint down. She went to get her parents to show them what she had found.

The little girl's parents were surprised to see the can of paint. They had no idea where it had come from. But they were also excited. They had always wanted to paint their bedroom, but they had never been able to afford it. Now, they had a free can of paint!

The little girl's parents cleaned the can of paint and then they started to paint their bedroom. They painted the walls a bright blue, just like the paint in the can. When they were finished, they were so happy with the results. The bedroom looked brand new!

The little girl was especially happy. She loved her new bedroom. She would spend hours playing in her room, and she would always make sure to close the closet door so that the can of paint wouldn't get lost again.

The can of paint was happy too. It had finally found a home where it could be used. It was no longer just a relic from the past. It was a part of the little girl's family, and it would always be there for her.

 

[JoeWras]

LOL! I need to sign up for Bard. What a hoot.

Apparently, in the world of AI, paint in forgotten cans never hardens. It just becomes something... creepy.

RobbieB, rayinpenn, TromboneAl and others, we miss you and love you.

RobbieB: just buy new paint. Blow that dough. You don't need the old stuff.

rayinpenn: the paint majestically was used to enliven a forgotten tunnel on a rainy day.

TromboneAl: Aliens came down from planet X and decided the slime molds and paint were the only worthwhile living creatures. All others were exterminated.

Man, I miss those guys...

 

[Dtail]

That is why the SWFL meet-up was especially nice.
Yes, I know what PB4USKI looks like. lol
However, we will never get to meet W2R. Boohoo.

 

[pdxgal]

I belong to a few online communities and they really are communities. We keep track and frequently meet up In Real Life (IRL) as they do here in the Florida meets.

Good to know, I’d wondered about this. Especially since so many of us are quite open about our financial situations. I wasn’t sure if people would want to reveal themselves.

 

[Gumby]

This is the GumbyPT version:
****
Mark sneezed as he grabbed a pile of old plastic sheeting from the cobwebbed closet. Wiping a dirty forearm across his nose, he pulled the sheeting free and stuffed it into the big rolling trash can next to him. Just this one last closet to go and he could quit for the day. He would come back tomorrow to haul everything to the dump. Then the house would finally be cleared out and the realtor could stage it for sale.

As he turned back to the closet, he looked down at the pile of painting supplies it had been covering. An old plastic tray, roller and brushes that had never been cleaned and now were crusted with the remains of the pastel blue paint in the gallon can standing beside them. As he bent down to pick up the can, the memories came flooding back and he could see Melissa, smiling at him. She had been so happy that day, cradling her growing belly as they stood at the door of what they had just started calling the nursery.

“If we’re going to have a boy, we should paint the walls blue, don’t you think,” she said.

“They could be any color you like,” he replied. “They don’t have to be blue just because it’s a boy.”

“Well, I like blue, and I think he will too,” she opined.

“Blue it is then,” he concluded, as he pulled her close for a soft kiss. “Just like your eyes.”

He frowned as he remembered that frantic last week. There had been so much going on at work and everything, and then the doctor’s appointments, the classes and the specialists, and still he hadn’t painted the walls in the empty room. The crib and other furniture Melissa had ordered was out in the garage, and the bare room stood as a silent accusation. Melissa had mostly been good about it, but she was getting nervous as the day approached and he heard a new tremor in her voice as she asked again, “Do you think you could get to the walls in the nursery soon?

“Alright,” he sighed. “I’ll run to the hardware store right now and start tonight. I’ll move the furniture in tomorrow after the paint dries. Don’t worry, we’ve got plenty of time”

He soon returned with the paint and supplies. As he carefully taped the plastic sheeting down over the hardwood floor, he looked up to see her at the door of the room, smiling again.

“Thank you,” she said gently. “I’m a little tired, so I’m going to bed now” she continued.

“Okay, I’ll be in in a while,” he replied.

As he pulled the roller back and forth in the tray and started on the wall, he daydreamed about his new son. Kyle Edward, they had decided to call him. He had so many plans for the life ahead of him. They would go hiking together. They’d get matching fishing poles and go after stripers in the Sound. He would definitely teach Kyle to play baseball and they’d go to the games. He hummed to himself as he worked, quickly covering the first two walls. It looked good, he thought, and Melissa would be happy. Setting the roller in the tray, Mark went downstairs to get a soda from the refrigerator in the garage. He decided he would check in on Melissa before he refilled the tray and finished the remaining walls.

Mark’s eyes started to water as he remembered what came next, images flashing through his brain like a crazed strobe light. A limp body in a pool of blood on the bed. A frantic call. People and equipment flooding into the house, pushing him aside. The jarring ride in the back of the ambulance. The terrible finality of the tired eyed doctor, holding his hands out and saying “I’m so sorry, Mr. Roberts. There was nothing we could do for either of them.” And then the endless months when he felt a gaping emptiness in his soul and shut himself off from the rest of the world.

Wiping his sleeve across his face again and taking a deep breath, Mark stood up and looked around at the bare room with two blue walls. He picked up the can of paint and pried the lid off. It was still liquid and had separated, but stirring it soon restored the pastel blue color. Carefully replacing the old crusted roller, he poured the paint out into the tray and swiped the roller through it. Stepping up to the wall, he started to paint.

 

[MC Rider]

I always enjoyed Robbie B's comments and boat stories too.
As far as the paint can stories, the Chat ones are too syrupy and sickening. Gumby's is rather tragic.

 

[freetodream]

Here's a funny thing: I have read lots of comments for years from Robbie B and many of you but you probably don't know me because I read, learn, and (take in the pearls) but post - not so much! Thanks for all of the insight over the years.

For you mathematicians I've averaged about 5 posts/year

 

[aaronc879]

My guess is that he has sailed to a deserted island.

Lucky him.

 

[MC Rider]

Lucky him.

Hopefully not on a 3 hour tour to Gilligans Island

 

[Retch The Grate]

Is it healthy to have 'friends' who use anonymous names and who you'll never likely get to meet? I don't know but such is the internet; it works for me though. At least here. I really do feel like part of a community.

Yes, from my BBS friends in the 80s to the folks on here 40 years later.

 

[JoeWras]

Oh no! What have I done?

A random thought about a paint can and our missing members, and Gumby's A.I. pumps out a disturbing story that includes blood and limp bodies? Yikes!

 

[MC Rider]

LMAO JoeWras.