The Boy had a trip to the endocrinologist yesterday. Being diabetic, he gets stuck for blood every few months to see how well he’s controlling his glucose levels1. His A1C is a little higher this time, not horribly so given what he did between tests. The nurse-practitioner2 was going through his records, and said he was Type II diabetic. We said no, he’s Type I.
This prompted the NP to look a little more closely. “Oh,” she said finally. “The doctor did decide he’s Type I. But some of these tests say one thing, and the others say something else.” So we got to talking about his Summer of Discontent, during which he admitted he took very little insulin (but said he didn’t eat much either). “In that case,” she said, “you could be Type II. The C-Peptide [I think that’s what she called it —FF] test went that way, and you’re still taking a relatively low amount of insulin. You could still be in the honeymoon period, but we can run the test again and maybe you could replace the Novolog with pills.”
Needless to say, we’re overjoyed. I’m really trying not to get my hopes up, but this would definitely be a plus for The Boy — instead of four needles a day, he would only have to use one (for his Lantus overnight) unless his glucose started getting high. He didn’t show much emotion, but maybe he’s trying to manage his expectations as well. He did agree to use his meter more often (that’s one of the things we’ve been nagging him about) so he & the medics can get a better picture of what’s going on.
If you’re the praying type, please pray for him. This could be a huge boost.
1Be careful what you ask for... if you want more control over your life, you could end up doing what your pancreas does for you. :-P
2NPs, it seems, get all the responsibility of a doctor in general, just without the recognition or prestige.
Tuesday, October 18, 2005 4 comments
Monday, October 17, 2005 No comments
Happy #21, M.A.E.!!!
Yup, The Boy’s lady fair is 21 today. They celebrated at a steak&sushi place.
That’s the last birthday this month at FAR Manor.
Happy Birthday! Happy Birthday!
People dying everywhere,
Misery is in the air,
Happy Birthday! Happy Birthday!
That’s the last birthday this month at FAR Manor.
Saturday, October 15, 2005 2 comments
To any Virginia readers...
You might want to know a bit more about Jerry Kilgore as he tries to slime his way into the governor’s mansion.
UPDATE: Austin Post has some more thoughtful commentary on the race.
UPDATE: Austin Post has some more thoughtful commentary on the race.
Happy Birthday, Daughter Dearest!
OMG, number 16. She’ll be taking her driver’s test pretty soon, although she’s in no hurry (either to take the test, or behind the wheel in general).
So on this wonderful Saturday morning, she had auditions for all-state chorus. Long drive, she snoozed a little but that’s fine since I was driving (she needs more practice with a manual transmission too). I plotzed around with the iBook in the cafeteria, putting some edits on a short story I may post here later, and banged around Yahoo on my cellphone when I get done with that.
She thinks she messed up on sight-reading, and she was supposed to bring a blank cassette tape (or be auto-DQ'ed) but her instructor saved the day with a couple extra tapes. So now we get to settle in & wait to hear if she made the cut.
From experience (she was in all-state three years ago, last time she was in public school), there’s a second audition... primarily to make sure the kids have practiced the music. So here’s hoping.
We finished out the day by getting her some Magic:the Gathering cards (three decks!) and eating (very late) lunch at one of her favorite restaurants.
So on this wonderful Saturday morning, she had auditions for all-state chorus. Long drive, she snoozed a little but that’s fine since I was driving (she needs more practice with a manual transmission too). I plotzed around with the iBook in the cafeteria, putting some edits on a short story I may post here later, and banged around Yahoo on my cellphone when I get done with that.
She thinks she messed up on sight-reading, and she was supposed to bring a blank cassette tape (or be auto-DQ'ed) but her instructor saved the day with a couple extra tapes. So now we get to settle in & wait to hear if she made the cut.
From experience (she was in all-state three years ago, last time she was in public school), there’s a second audition... primarily to make sure the kids have practiced the music. So here’s hoping.
We finished out the day by getting her some Magic:the Gathering cards (three decks!) and eating (very late) lunch at one of her favorite restaurants.
Friday, October 14, 2005 2 comments
Laziness and Open Document Format
Categories: technology, work
Current music: Groove Salad
Just before I took off for lunch today, the contractor who picked up the projects I was working on before the reorg motioned me over and asked me, “how did you do it? You put together the whole shell of this project, and I’m just hanging stuff on it. Especially the command-line stuff... how did you get so much of it done with nothing to work with?” Pulling miracles out of my, er, back pocket has been a lot of what I’ve done at the office for the last few years. I got deadlines, limited access (at best) to equipment, a little help from my boss when he’s not swamped with other stuff, very little in the way of specifications, and somehow I managed to maintain documentation for three entire product lines.
My secret is: I’m lazy.
Look, I sit in front of a computer all day. If I can get the computer to do something for me, especially if it’s something that needs to be done more than once, I’ll do it. For example, our original (now “legacy”) product line came with about 4000 pages of documentation scattered over about 20 different manuals. We provided a master index, a 110-page book of its own, as a way to let customers zero in on which manual(s) covered a particular topic. The first time I did the master index, it took two solid weeks of nothing else. This is one of those prime examples for automation: I had to build a book in FrameMaker of all the other books, tag each chapter in each manual, run the index, convert the tags to document references (for example, change “EG” to Engineering Guidelines), remove all but the first reference to any chapter, blah blah blah. To make a long story shorter, I wrote a handful of AppleScripts that eliminated literally 80% of the grunt work: instead of two weeks, I could build the master index in two days. Yesterday, I wrote a script that created index entries from headings (which is OK for a first pass at indexing commands) that saved me a day’s worth of work.
I told you all that to tell you this.
A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about Massachusetts adopting Open Document Format (ODF) for state government documents. Between than and now, OpenOffice 2.0 went into beta test; yesterday, OASIS (Organization for the Advancement of Structured Information Standards) submitted ODF to the International Standards Organization (ISO) for consideration as an international standard for office document interchange.
The neat thing about all this is that the ODF format is easy to pick apart and fiddle with. Internally, content, graphics, and style information are separated and the whole thing is rolled up in a ZIP file. Content and style files use an XML format, which is important for two reasons: XML is plain text, and there are lots of utilities to work with it. So what does that mean? There are several Free programs that support ODF already (OpenOffice and AbiWord run on most computers, while Koffice also runs on Linux systems). But the really fun part is, given a document format both open and relatively easy to parse, you don’t need an office application to do things with ODF files.
In the computing world, when a group like OASIS sets out to nail down a standard, they form a Technical Committee (TC) of interested parties. In the case of the ODF TC, some of the interested parties include companies that make content management systems (or CMS... the alphabet soup is sloshing around quite a bit tonight!) — suffice it to say that a CMS allows you to store, retrieve, and process documents to make something new (kind of like putting basil leaves in a food processor and making pesto). Given the job of a CMS, it usually doesn’t just store a document as-is. In the case of an ODF file, the CMS would probably unzip it and extract just the content and metadata (data about the data) components. The graphics are already stored in the CMS. Let’s say I send a document to the CMS and come back for it a couple of months later. During that time, some of the artwork has been changed. The CMS grabs the original content and metadata, rolls in the updated graphics, and hands me an ODF file. Oh cool, I didn’t have to update the graphics myself!
Another handy utility might be nightly publishing runs. Sometimes, I’m working on a manual that’s getting change requests and bug reports coming in fast & furious. Some of the manuals I deal with have a lot of bitmap graphics, and can take nearly an hour to generate a PDF. Remember, I’m lazy... I don’t want to sit at work an hour overtime just to watch the computer make a PDF. In my theoretical ODF-based system, I simply send in the stuff I worked on during the day, and the CMS builds a new document and emails it (with a summary of what changed) to all the reviewers. The reviewers get fresh hot documentation every morning; I get to go home, sit on the porch, and write haiku before it gets dark.
With the manual finished, I have to send it to the translators. Currently, this involves gathering all the various files together and archiving them (and sending missing pieces or assuring them that the extraneous files aren’t important). In my dream system, I tell the CMS to give me an ODF document of the book. Boom, all the pieces get wrapped together, nothing gets dropped, nothing extra gets added, and I send one file to the translators.
I’m willing to put some effort into making this a reality. After all, I want the computer to do the work for me.
Current music: Groove Salad
Just before I took off for lunch today, the contractor who picked up the projects I was working on before the reorg motioned me over and asked me, “how did you do it? You put together the whole shell of this project, and I’m just hanging stuff on it. Especially the command-line stuff... how did you get so much of it done with nothing to work with?” Pulling miracles out of my, er, back pocket has been a lot of what I’ve done at the office for the last few years. I got deadlines, limited access (at best) to equipment, a little help from my boss when he’s not swamped with other stuff, very little in the way of specifications, and somehow I managed to maintain documentation for three entire product lines.
My secret is: I’m lazy.
Look, I sit in front of a computer all day. If I can get the computer to do something for me, especially if it’s something that needs to be done more than once, I’ll do it. For example, our original (now “legacy”) product line came with about 4000 pages of documentation scattered over about 20 different manuals. We provided a master index, a 110-page book of its own, as a way to let customers zero in on which manual(s) covered a particular topic. The first time I did the master index, it took two solid weeks of nothing else. This is one of those prime examples for automation: I had to build a book in FrameMaker of all the other books, tag each chapter in each manual, run the index, convert the tags to document references (for example, change “EG” to Engineering Guidelines), remove all but the first reference to any chapter, blah blah blah. To make a long story shorter, I wrote a handful of AppleScripts that eliminated literally 80% of the grunt work: instead of two weeks, I could build the master index in two days. Yesterday, I wrote a script that created index entries from headings (which is OK for a first pass at indexing commands) that saved me a day’s worth of work.
I told you all that to tell you this.
A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about Massachusetts adopting Open Document Format (ODF) for state government documents. Between than and now, OpenOffice 2.0 went into beta test; yesterday, OASIS (Organization for the Advancement of Structured Information Standards) submitted ODF to the International Standards Organization (ISO) for consideration as an international standard for office document interchange.
The neat thing about all this is that the ODF format is easy to pick apart and fiddle with. Internally, content, graphics, and style information are separated and the whole thing is rolled up in a ZIP file. Content and style files use an XML format, which is important for two reasons: XML is plain text, and there are lots of utilities to work with it. So what does that mean? There are several Free programs that support ODF already (OpenOffice and AbiWord run on most computers, while Koffice also runs on Linux systems). But the really fun part is, given a document format both open and relatively easy to parse, you don’t need an office application to do things with ODF files.
In the computing world, when a group like OASIS sets out to nail down a standard, they form a Technical Committee (TC) of interested parties. In the case of the ODF TC, some of the interested parties include companies that make content management systems (or CMS... the alphabet soup is sloshing around quite a bit tonight!) — suffice it to say that a CMS allows you to store, retrieve, and process documents to make something new (kind of like putting basil leaves in a food processor and making pesto). Given the job of a CMS, it usually doesn’t just store a document as-is. In the case of an ODF file, the CMS would probably unzip it and extract just the content and metadata (data about the data) components. The graphics are already stored in the CMS. Let’s say I send a document to the CMS and come back for it a couple of months later. During that time, some of the artwork has been changed. The CMS grabs the original content and metadata, rolls in the updated graphics, and hands me an ODF file. Oh cool, I didn’t have to update the graphics myself!
Another handy utility might be nightly publishing runs. Sometimes, I’m working on a manual that’s getting change requests and bug reports coming in fast & furious. Some of the manuals I deal with have a lot of bitmap graphics, and can take nearly an hour to generate a PDF. Remember, I’m lazy... I don’t want to sit at work an hour overtime just to watch the computer make a PDF. In my theoretical ODF-based system, I simply send in the stuff I worked on during the day, and the CMS builds a new document and emails it (with a summary of what changed) to all the reviewers. The reviewers get fresh hot documentation every morning; I get to go home, sit on the porch, and write haiku before it gets dark.
With the manual finished, I have to send it to the translators. Currently, this involves gathering all the various files together and archiving them (and sending missing pieces or assuring them that the extraneous files aren’t important). In my dream system, I tell the CMS to give me an ODF document of the book. Boom, all the pieces get wrapped together, nothing gets dropped, nothing extra gets added, and I send one file to the translators.
I’m willing to put some effort into making this a reality. After all, I want the computer to do the work for me.
Death by Number 33
We went to one of the local Mexican restaurants last night (there are two in town, and two more in the retail district — people here like their tacos, I guess). Since I was on the way, they ordered #33 (chili relleno, tostada, quesadilla) for me. The barking started soon after leaving the restaurant; Daughter Dearest made the mistake of riding with me and I got to “share.”
It gets worse: the wife tells me the snoring (from both ends) went on most of the night and she ended up sleeping in the living room. I was even more oblivious than usual.
It continues to get worse: they haven’t completely gone away yet, over 24 hours later.
It gets worse: the wife tells me the snoring (from both ends) went on most of the night and she ended up sleeping in the living room. I was even more oblivious than usual.
It continues to get worse: they haven’t completely gone away yet, over 24 hours later.
Tuesday, October 11, 2005 1 comment
Not so fuelish
I find myself returning to this topic a lot, perhaps because it’s something that affects both the cast of characters (and I do mean characters) at FAR Manor and everyone else around us. I don’t intend for it to become an energy blog though.
Fuel supplies on Planet Georgia are still hovering close to barely adequate or maybe slightly less. Gas stations still run out on occasion (especially a certain BP station close to my office), and it’s not uncommon to see other stations having only one grade of gas available. Prices are a tick below $3/gallon, which is eating Lobster alive. [I told him to look for something smaller than the truck, but he wasn’t listening. He was in love with that Ranger.] Rumors of a climb to $4/gallon this month haven’t materialized... yet. Thank God.
On the other hand, I’m seeing some hopeful signs that people are getting fed up and actually doing something about it. My in-laws started driving less after prices got above $2/gallon. The president of Shell Oil thinks demand will decline (which is why they don’t plan to build more refineries) — current vehicle sales trends seem to confirm that. Demand for big new SUVs has dropped to the point where Ford stopped making Excursions at the end of September. SUV owners are trading in their gas guzzlers in droves, getting smaller cars.
No less than four motorcycle dealers have set up shop between FAR Manor and the office — certainly, some of them are “power-sport” or “lifestyle” oriented, but one Suzuki and United Motors (a Chinese make) dealer had a sign out front recently: “We get 70MPG. Do you?” With fall settling in and winter on the way, some of those new bikes will end up in the garage for a few months; but when it starts warming up again, I’m looking forward to not being the only rider on the road in the morning. (That’s not totally true even now; I’m seeing more bikes on the road but I’m not sure if it’s gas prices or fall weather bringing them out... probably both.) Come spring, there could be a lot of bikes on the road, especially if predictions of honest-to-God shortages over the winter come true.
In the long run, or even the medium run, moving to more fuel-efficient vehicles won’t be enough. If we’d continued to bite the bullet we bit back in the 70s, it might have — but Reagan pretty much p!$$3d away that opportunity, and his successors made (at best) token efforts. Some of the changes coming will be positive — manufacturing and markets will become local again, at the expense of national or international chains — but we will end up being a much less mobile society, and that will be a wrenching change for many people.
Forewarned is... half an octopus.
Fuel supplies on Planet Georgia are still hovering close to barely adequate or maybe slightly less. Gas stations still run out on occasion (especially a certain BP station close to my office), and it’s not uncommon to see other stations having only one grade of gas available. Prices are a tick below $3/gallon, which is eating Lobster alive. [I told him to look for something smaller than the truck, but he wasn’t listening. He was in love with that Ranger.] Rumors of a climb to $4/gallon this month haven’t materialized... yet. Thank God.
On the other hand, I’m seeing some hopeful signs that people are getting fed up and actually doing something about it. My in-laws started driving less after prices got above $2/gallon. The president of Shell Oil thinks demand will decline (which is why they don’t plan to build more refineries) — current vehicle sales trends seem to confirm that. Demand for big new SUVs has dropped to the point where Ford stopped making Excursions at the end of September. SUV owners are trading in their gas guzzlers in droves, getting smaller cars.
No less than four motorcycle dealers have set up shop between FAR Manor and the office — certainly, some of them are “power-sport” or “lifestyle” oriented, but one Suzuki and United Motors (a Chinese make) dealer had a sign out front recently: “We get 70MPG. Do you?” With fall settling in and winter on the way, some of those new bikes will end up in the garage for a few months; but when it starts warming up again, I’m looking forward to not being the only rider on the road in the morning. (That’s not totally true even now; I’m seeing more bikes on the road but I’m not sure if it’s gas prices or fall weather bringing them out... probably both.) Come spring, there could be a lot of bikes on the road, especially if predictions of honest-to-God shortages over the winter come true.
In the long run, or even the medium run, moving to more fuel-efficient vehicles won’t be enough. If we’d continued to bite the bullet we bit back in the 70s, it might have — but Reagan pretty much p!$$3d away that opportunity, and his successors made (at best) token efforts. Some of the changes coming will be positive — manufacturing and markets will become local again, at the expense of national or international chains — but we will end up being a much less mobile society, and that will be a wrenching change for many people.
Forewarned is... half an octopus.
Monday, October 10, 2005 No comments
Voices from the Borg
As much as I dislike Microsoft — mostly their business practices, although I’ve lost too much work to Word over the years to trust it — I have to admit it’s pretty cool that they let employees blog about what they're doing at work. For example, Brian Jones discusses the development of the XML-based file formats in Office 12; Cyndy Wessling covers the PDF output capabilities of upcoming versions. (If Visio ends up creating decent PDF, there will be a lot of happy FrameMaker users out there.)
For a view of the corporate culture, Mini-Microsoft recently hit the “blogs of note” list and provides an unvarnished look at the ossification of a large corporation as it happens. I’m sure there are other blogs about Microsoft by Microsofties... if you run across any, leave a link in the comments.
For a view of the corporate culture, Mini-Microsoft recently hit the “blogs of note” list and provides an unvarnished look at the ossification of a large corporation as it happens. I’m sure there are other blogs about Microsoft by Microsofties... if you run across any, leave a link in the comments.
Something you don't see everyday
I was getting my 3 p.m. joe to see me through the rest of the afternoon, and managed to get a whole cup for a change. As I was starting the next pot, the president of our division came in, said hello, then stooped down & picked up a couple of pieces of trash & dumped them in the wastebasket.
I guess that represents why I’ve stayed there for 7 years.
I guess that represents why I’ve stayed there for 7 years.
Dangit
I managed to forget my cellphone and my badge/passkey this morning.
The Boy took M.A.E. to a county fair last night. They went with a mutual friend (the guy that introduced them, may a camel give birth in his bed :-). The friend and The Boy have an interesting fit: friend has a car and no driver’s license, Boy has a driver’s license and no car. Soooooo... he trundles in last night, only 7 minutes late (about as well as his mom does), with his friend’s car and no friend.
“He didn’t want to drive it home without a license,” he explained. “I’ll drop it by his house in the morning and Lobster can take me to school.” Fine, whatever. The deed is done, nobody got hurt, wife didn’t go ballistic, so if the friend’s parents are OK with it so are we.
Except that, of course, Lobster is nearly impossible to get out of bed in the morning: he’s gotten worse than The Boy, actually. When I started harassing him, he started whining about gas money (he’s getting eaten alive by gas prices). The Boy was just laying in bed, fully dressed, waiting for Lobster to get moving. Time was running out to get him to school on time, so I told him, “I’ll pick you up. Let’s go.” I had to turn off the coffee pot, big deal. He got a 3-minute head start while I bagged my iBook and told the wife good-bye. To make a long story short, he got to school just in time. I hope he was able to get some breakfast.
The Boy took M.A.E. to a county fair last night. They went with a mutual friend (the guy that introduced them, may a camel give birth in his bed :-). The friend and The Boy have an interesting fit: friend has a car and no driver’s license, Boy has a driver’s license and no car. Soooooo... he trundles in last night, only 7 minutes late (about as well as his mom does), with his friend’s car and no friend.
“He didn’t want to drive it home without a license,” he explained. “I’ll drop it by his house in the morning and Lobster can take me to school.” Fine, whatever. The deed is done, nobody got hurt, wife didn’t go ballistic, so if the friend’s parents are OK with it so are we.
Except that, of course, Lobster is nearly impossible to get out of bed in the morning: he’s gotten worse than The Boy, actually. When I started harassing him, he started whining about gas money (he’s getting eaten alive by gas prices). The Boy was just laying in bed, fully dressed, waiting for Lobster to get moving. Time was running out to get him to school on time, so I told him, “I’ll pick you up. Let’s go.” I had to turn off the coffee pot, big deal. He got a 3-minute head start while I bagged my iBook and told the wife good-bye. To make a long story short, he got to school just in time. I hope he was able to get some breakfast.
Sunday, October 09, 2005 1 comment
On responsibility
Being wrapped up in my minor agony yesterday, I forgot to mention something fairly important: M.A.E. (Ms. Almost Einstein, The Boy’s girlfriend) finally managed to lose her “housekeeping” job at the mountaintop lodge yesterday morning. She called in sick a couple of days with back problems and so on, and that was apparently the last straw.
The Boy is displeased. “That was a good job! She needs to be more responsible!” he told his mom yesterday. “I don’t like my job all that much, but I go and do it.” Judging from the reports I’m getting, he does pretty well at it too (at the same lodge, he’s a dishwasher, like the dad in “Robots” who dreamed of being a musician... spooooky). His 90-day review is coming up soon, and he’s probably going to get a fairly substantial raise. I don’t know if he remembers he was pretty much the same way about a year ago. He would give it everything he had, at least when he didn’t have something else going on that he wanted to do (like band practice). He blew off one job that way, without having another one lined up, and wound up not working for several months. Maybe he did learn some lessons during his summer of discontent.
So M.A.E. put in apps at several restaurants in the retail district. An IHOP opened recently, which the wife is itching to go to. She wasn’t with us yesterday when M.A.E. did an app there; we joked about eating there & telling her about it afterwards. That would have Not Pleased Her At All. One of the non-manager (unfortunately) people at Arby’s was ready to hire her on the spot.
I wonder if she has a mild form of clinical depression: she certainly sleeps enough for it. She wants to become independent, but doesn’t push herself hard enough. The housekeeping job was better than most in a lot of ways; she had a decent benefits package (the lodge is in a state park so they get state bennies) and reasonable pay for unskilled labor. She was talking about landing a “hostess” job at a fancier restaurant, but she’ll probably have to work her way up to that.
The Boy is displeased. “That was a good job! She needs to be more responsible!” he told his mom yesterday. “I don’t like my job all that much, but I go and do it.” Judging from the reports I’m getting, he does pretty well at it too (at the same lodge, he’s a dishwasher, like the dad in “Robots” who dreamed of being a musician... spooooky). His 90-day review is coming up soon, and he’s probably going to get a fairly substantial raise. I don’t know if he remembers he was pretty much the same way about a year ago. He would give it everything he had, at least when he didn’t have something else going on that he wanted to do (like band practice). He blew off one job that way, without having another one lined up, and wound up not working for several months. Maybe he did learn some lessons during his summer of discontent.
So M.A.E. put in apps at several restaurants in the retail district. An IHOP opened recently, which the wife is itching to go to. She wasn’t with us yesterday when M.A.E. did an app there; we joked about eating there & telling her about it afterwards. That would have Not Pleased Her At All. One of the non-manager (unfortunately) people at Arby’s was ready to hire her on the spot.
I wonder if she has a mild form of clinical depression: she certainly sleeps enough for it. She wants to become independent, but doesn’t push herself hard enough. The housekeeping job was better than most in a lot of ways; she had a decent benefits package (the lodge is in a state park so they get state bennies) and reasonable pay for unskilled labor. She was talking about landing a “hostess” job at a fancier restaurant, but she’ll probably have to work her way up to that.
(Nearly) cured
The cramp is still there this morning, but at a much lower intensity. It still pings when I take a deep breath, but it’s where I can mostly ignore it.
Too bad Blogger doesn’t polls. I'd have a “which did the most good” poll: the ibroprofen horse pill the wife gave me last night after supper, the heat pad, the chiro-cracker, or all of the above. I’m leaning toward the heating pad myself.
Too bad Blogger doesn’t polls. I'd have a “which did the most good” poll: the ibroprofen horse pill the wife gave me last night after supper, the heat pad, the chiro-cracker, or all of the above. I’m leaning toward the heating pad myself.
Saturday, October 08, 2005 No comments
Warm buzzy feeling
The electric heating pad we have also has a "massage" switch. I just shut off the buzzer after letting it run for about 10 or 20 minutes.
I sort of weiner'ed out of attending a party with Daughter Dearest. A friend’s dad “hired” the school chorus for his b-day party, so I took her over there. My back started twinging so I handed DD my cell phone & begged off. I didn’t tell her what was going on because I didn’t want her worrying (and potentially hosing her part).
I don’t know if this heating pad is going to do any good. I suppose it will take a couple of hours.
I sort of weiner'ed out of attending a party with Daughter Dearest. A friend’s dad “hired” the school chorus for his b-day party, so I took her over there. My back started twinging so I handed DD my cell phone & begged off. I didn’t tell her what was going on because I didn’t want her worrying (and potentially hosing her part).
I don’t know if this heating pad is going to do any good. I suppose it will take a couple of hours.
Back spasms?
It’s closer to the side than the spine, around the back, but this pain keeps cramping up & it won’t let me sleep. I think it started Thursday night, although it wasn’t bad then. It’s in the muscle, not appendicitis.
I wonder if this is a back spasm. I have a friend at church who gets them from time to time & they incapacitate him (or maybe it’s the pain medication he takes for it). I’m able to function now, but if I don’t get any more sleep I might have to revise that.
Well, at the least the wrong-number phone call that just came in (wrong area code) didn't wake me up...
UPDATE: Chiro-cracker thinks it's a cramped muscle. He said there’s an outside chance it’s a kidney stone, but it’s not in the right location for typical stones. Wife-o-licious had a huge one a few years back (as in, bigger than the kidney it destroyed). She said the pain is too high & she should know. So I guess it’s time to find the hot pads.
I wonder if this is a back spasm. I have a friend at church who gets them from time to time & they incapacitate him (or maybe it’s the pain medication he takes for it). I’m able to function now, but if I don’t get any more sleep I might have to revise that.
Well, at the least the wrong-number phone call that just came in (wrong area code) didn't wake me up...
UPDATE: Chiro-cracker thinks it's a cramped muscle. He said there’s an outside chance it’s a kidney stone, but it’s not in the right location for typical stones. Wife-o-licious had a huge one a few years back (as in, bigger than the kidney it destroyed). She said the pain is too high & she should know. So I guess it’s time to find the hot pads.
Friday, October 07, 2005 No comments
Bloggin' at the KFC
I didn’t feel like going home right away (see below). Lobster is working at KFC today, and I got a free drink. And a much-needed bathroom break.
The spammers are thick today; I got two of them within a minute of posting.
The spammers are thick today; I got two of them within a minute of posting.
Are they trying to drum up business?
Daughter Dearest broke her ankle about a year ago, badly enough that it required surgery to put back together (two pins & a plate, won’t she have fun at the airports). We made the mistake of taking her to the nearest hospital to get the deed done. It’s not that they do a bad job on the medical end, except that there have been times in its history where you about had to be spurting blood on the ceiling to get quick help, but their billing department seems to be staffed by retarded howler monkeys (and that’s defaming retarded howler monkeys everywhere).
But today tops even those. Wife calls me at work, wanting to know the number of someone at the insurance company. Turns out that the hospital can’t figure out their own code for the pins they put in DD’s foot, and the insurance company rejected the claim. So they’re threatening to screw over our credit record because they can’t figure out how to write their own bills! So she’s totally overreacting, which stresses me out...
Makes me wonder if they’re trying to make people sick to stay in business or something.
Let me say it one more time: retarded howler monkeys.
- We’ve caught them trying to double-bill us on a couple of occasions for this and other work (The Boy spent was diagnosed with Type I diabetes there last April, and DD got appendicitis about two weeks after that — last year would have been bankruptcy time if we didn’t have decent insurance).
- On another occasion, they sent a paid bill to a collection agency. Like I said, retarded howler monkeys.
But today tops even those. Wife calls me at work, wanting to know the number of someone at the insurance company. Turns out that the hospital can’t figure out their own code for the pins they put in DD’s foot, and the insurance company rejected the claim. So they’re threatening to screw over our credit record because they can’t figure out how to write their own bills! So she’s totally overreacting, which stresses me out...
Makes me wonder if they’re trying to make people sick to stay in business or something.
Let me say it one more time: retarded howler monkeys.
Something I forgot to mention last night
I've found that when hitting “Next Blog,” one of about every four blogs that comes up are worth further exploration (exception: you can hit a string of blogs written in a language you don’t read). The interesting thing is that Blogger’s list of notables has about the same quality ratio.
Thursday, October 06, 2005 1 comment
Rainy funk kind of night
Current music: Beat Blender
Tammy’s wet sloppy kiss has left me not much motivated to write much more than a haiku, and that was this morning in the car. I’ve just been hitting “Next Blog” and bouncing from place to place this evening. One I stumbled across that might prove interesting is Militant Leftist — it’s a new blog, only four entries when I found it (all recent), so it could grow or die. Time will tell.
What was that statistic? 55% of all bloggers continue to maintain their blog(s) after several months? — that means 45% of new bloggers just let it wither. ’Course, I did a head-fake along those lines; if you look at the Archive list you will see no posts for June after starting Tales from FAR Manor in May. I’ve come to enjoy blogging though; I think somewhere around 20 people read me at least occasionally, and knowing that is gratifying.
The soap-opera that is life at FAR Manor continues, mostly calm with a few minor issues. I’ve recently revised my opinion of The Boy’s girlfriend, though: she’s not as dumb as she thinks she is. I’ve worked with people no smarter than she, and they were called “managers.” IMO, what she lacks is a belief in herself, and a spark that would motivate her to push beyond her current boundaries. I can relate; on evenings like this the mental & emotional sloth reminds me I have no reason to think myself superior. I didn’t study very hard in high school because I could get As and Bs without making much effort. But I digress. She’s no Ms. Einstein to be sure, but she could become more successful than she thinks. Lobster is kind of in the same state... he’s content. He has his truck, his job at KFC, and he’s on track to finish high school this year. He doesn’t have a clue about afterwards, and I fear that he’ll put his money where his politics are and join the Army.
The Boy is a major question mark. He has talent and drive, but no interest in playing by any rules other than his own. That usually doesn’t work out unless you were born into the elites (Kennedy, Bush, Morgan, Windsor, the Illuminati), but can also lead to greatness — boom or bust, not much in between. I really believe in him & his potential, although the road he’s on is like rolling percentile dice and hoping for a double-ought. I keep prodding him to hatch a Plan B and keep it in his back pocket, just in case, but I don’t see him doing it yet. Well, at least he’s honest with himself: he’s not the type to “play the game” just to make it. Stardom or bust, damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead, that’s The Boy.
Daughter Dearest is the only one I see taking a conventional road, and she’s not all that conventional once you scratch the veneer. I’ll talk about her another time, though. Right now, it’s past my bedtime.
Sheesh. I came to write a paragraph, and ended up rambling.
Tammy’s wet sloppy kiss has left me not much motivated to write much more than a haiku, and that was this morning in the car. I’ve just been hitting “Next Blog” and bouncing from place to place this evening. One I stumbled across that might prove interesting is Militant Leftist — it’s a new blog, only four entries when I found it (all recent), so it could grow or die. Time will tell.
What was that statistic? 55% of all bloggers continue to maintain their blog(s) after several months? — that means 45% of new bloggers just let it wither. ’Course, I did a head-fake along those lines; if you look at the Archive list you will see no posts for June after starting Tales from FAR Manor in May. I’ve come to enjoy blogging though; I think somewhere around 20 people read me at least occasionally, and knowing that is gratifying.
The soap-opera that is life at FAR Manor continues, mostly calm with a few minor issues. I’ve recently revised my opinion of The Boy’s girlfriend, though: she’s not as dumb as she thinks she is. I’ve worked with people no smarter than she, and they were called “managers.” IMO, what she lacks is a belief in herself, and a spark that would motivate her to push beyond her current boundaries. I can relate; on evenings like this the mental & emotional sloth reminds me I have no reason to think myself superior. I didn’t study very hard in high school because I could get As and Bs without making much effort. But I digress. She’s no Ms. Einstein to be sure, but she could become more successful than she thinks. Lobster is kind of in the same state... he’s content. He has his truck, his job at KFC, and he’s on track to finish high school this year. He doesn’t have a clue about afterwards, and I fear that he’ll put his money where his politics are and join the Army.
The Boy is a major question mark. He has talent and drive, but no interest in playing by any rules other than his own. That usually doesn’t work out unless you were born into the elites (Kennedy, Bush, Morgan, Windsor, the Illuminati), but can also lead to greatness — boom or bust, not much in between. I really believe in him & his potential, although the road he’s on is like rolling percentile dice and hoping for a double-ought. I keep prodding him to hatch a Plan B and keep it in his back pocket, just in case, but I don’t see him doing it yet. Well, at least he’s honest with himself: he’s not the type to “play the game” just to make it. Stardom or bust, damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead, that’s The Boy.
Daughter Dearest is the only one I see taking a conventional road, and she’s not all that conventional once you scratch the veneer. I’ll talk about her another time, though. Right now, it’s past my bedtime.
Sheesh. I came to write a paragraph, and ended up rambling.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005 1 comment
Now that’s weird...
Daughter Dearest demonstrated an ability to do the Vulcan Salute with her foot....
Yeesh.
Yeesh.
My ad hoc home office
I thought I’d start the day by describing my work-at-home setup before I get to work.
Last week, I said I work out on the screened-in porch/Florida room with the cats. I set at the windows, looking out over a very rough back yard that needs some serious log removal and weed-eating. The woods takes over about thirty feet away, so it’s a fairly narrow strip of yard I’m talking about.
I sit at an 80s-vintage typing desk, a steel frame with a pretty good composite veneer over who-knows-what for a working surface. I use two phone books to raise the iBook screen up to (almost) eye level... I suppose I ought to get one or two more to get it really right. The Boy’s old iMac “donated” its Apple Pro Keyboard & my MacAlly wheelie mouse (he likes it better than the Pro Mouse and I don’t use it that often) for the day.
The Force is strong with the litter box this morning. Daughter Dearest is supposed to scoop it at least every other day, and we’re lucky if she gets to it twice a week.
Time to start working, after I grab a cup of coffee... and a couple more phone books....
Last week, I said I work out on the screened-in porch/Florida room with the cats. I set at the windows, looking out over a very rough back yard that needs some serious log removal and weed-eating. The woods takes over about thirty feet away, so it’s a fairly narrow strip of yard I’m talking about.
I sit at an 80s-vintage typing desk, a steel frame with a pretty good composite veneer over who-knows-what for a working surface. I use two phone books to raise the iBook screen up to (almost) eye level... I suppose I ought to get one or two more to get it really right. The Boy’s old iMac “donated” its Apple Pro Keyboard & my MacAlly wheelie mouse (he likes it better than the Pro Mouse and I don’t use it that often) for the day.
The Force is strong with the litter box this morning. Daughter Dearest is supposed to scoop it at least every other day, and we’re lucky if she gets to it twice a week.
Time to start working, after I grab a cup of coffee... and a couple more phone books....
Monday, October 03, 2005 No comments
Pandemic Flu Awareness Week
October 3–9 is Pandemic Flu Awareness Week.News coming out of southern Asia, particularly Indonesia and Vietnam, suggests that the H5N1 strain of flu (often called “avian flu” or “bird flu”) is slowly but surely figuring out how to effectively transmit itself from person to person. Statistics alone point to a worldwide pandemic coming soon (we get one every 30 or 40 years, on average, and it’s been 37 years since the last one in 1968). Like a hurricane, we simply can’t predict where and when the next one will hit, so keeping an eye open and having a plan is an increasingly good idea.
Check out the Flu Wiki (link above), there’s plenty of good information out there.
It must be fall...
Because the wife has once again caught Pointless Furniture Moving Disease. Which means that everyone who can move gets drafted to move furniture from here to there.
Actually, there are three changes of season that trigger it. I get a break on the spring-to-summer transition most years, but that summer-to-fall one is a killer. Fall-to-winter usually is limited to rearranging the bedroom.
This year, though, there’s actually a meaning behind the movement (for a change). I mentioned the living room carpet that needs to be pulled up; some of the furniture is getting shifted out of that area this time around. My feet hurt, but at least we’re done (for now).
Actually, there are three changes of season that trigger it. I get a break on the spring-to-summer transition most years, but that summer-to-fall one is a killer. Fall-to-winter usually is limited to rearranging the bedroom.
This year, though, there’s actually a meaning behind the movement (for a change). I mentioned the living room carpet that needs to be pulled up; some of the furniture is getting shifted out of that area this time around. My feet hurt, but at least we’re done (for now).
Sunday, October 02, 2005 3 comments
Gnarly-Top Wheat Bread
I really need to start adding a little more water to the dough when I put the bread machine on dough cycle. Quite often, the dough is good & tight, and I have to prod and pull and stretch to get it to fill the pan. Tonight’s wheat bread needed some extra water — not only was it on the dry side, it was bogging the machine down to the point where the motor wouldn’t turn without some help, and that was after I added more water.
Naturally, those finger-pokes and so on don’t flow or rise out of the dough after it goes in the pan, so the result looks like the above. It’s still good though. I’ll cut it up first thing in the morning. Right now, it’s bed time!
A pleasant thought
Catching up on reading Motorcycle Consumer News, I found a comforting piece in the “M/C Bulletins” section about bikes that are most and least likely to be stolen or crashed. At the top of the “least likely to be crashed” list was my current ride, the Virago.
It probably says more about the riders than the bikes, but still.
It probably says more about the riders than the bikes, but still.
Outdoor blogging
I’m sitting in a folding camp chair on the sidewalk outside my front door. Behind my right shoulder is the guest bedroom where the wireless hub lives, so I have a pretty strong signal. It's cloudy enough that the screen is a bit dim but still readable.
I should do this more often. Fresh air & blogging, yes you can have them both!
I should do this more often. Fresh air & blogging, yes you can have them both!
MUCH better
Sharpening that chipper-shredder blade made the difference between useless & useful. It will now happily chew up 2-inch (5cm) limbs where it couldn’t handle bits 1/4 that thick before.
I need to find a deflector or bag for it now... it didn’t come with one. I really don’t want to buy one at the moment, because its ownership is somewhat ambiguous. My brother-in-law doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to get it back, but once he finds it actually does something worthwhile now, he might change his tune. As it is, I had to rake up all the mulch; it was scattered up to six feet away from the machine and several inches deep in places. I filled two 5-gallon buckets with chips & still have a pretty good pile.
I need to find a deflector or bag for it now... it didn’t come with one. I really don’t want to buy one at the moment, because its ownership is somewhat ambiguous. My brother-in-law doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to get it back, but once he finds it actually does something worthwhile now, he might change his tune. As it is, I had to rake up all the mulch; it was scattered up to six feet away from the machine and several inches deep in places. I filled two 5-gallon buckets with chips & still have a pretty good pile.
Saturday, October 01, 2005 No comments
Sharpen the saw chipper-shredder
As I’ve mentioned before, I had the ever-so-brilliant idea to use a chipper-shredder to turn all the brush and downed limbs into mulch. My brother-in-law the landscaper loaned me a Troy-Bilt that he was given to pay off a bill.
In two words: it sucks. It’s still here, I think because he really doesn’t want it back.
So today, I had another brilliant idea: sharpen the blade, and maybe it would suck a bit less.
Troy-Bilt, I’ve learned, didn’t design their toy to be easily serviced. I took off a cover (forcing the big plastic knobs to turn all the way off to get the cover off, tried to get the flywheel off but it’s on there to stay, then pulled off the chute assembly. With all that off, I was able to put an Allen wrench on one side and a 1/2-inch socket on the other (oh yeah, this thing is a lovely mishmash of English and metric fasteners) and loosen the three nuts & bolts holding the (single) blade on.
Now I have to take it down to the in-laws’ and introduce it to the grinder.
In two words: it sucks. It’s still here, I think because he really doesn’t want it back.
So today, I had another brilliant idea: sharpen the blade, and maybe it would suck a bit less.
Troy-Bilt, I’ve learned, didn’t design their toy to be easily serviced. I took off a cover (forcing the big plastic knobs to turn all the way off to get the cover off, tried to get the flywheel off but it’s on there to stay, then pulled off the chute assembly. With all that off, I was able to put an Allen wrench on one side and a 1/2-inch socket on the other (oh yeah, this thing is a lovely mishmash of English and metric fasteners) and loosen the three nuts & bolts holding the (single) blade on.
Now I have to take it down to the in-laws’ and introduce it to the grinder.
Busy Saturday
I got my car back yesterday, with an admonishment from the mechanic about making it sure wasn’t still leaking. Huh? I’d better not have spent $350 on a water pump I didn’t freeking need. As Planetary Governor Bok-Bok's gas tax moratorium expires very shortly, I went ahead & topped up my tank — and I got the last gallon of regular, and they were already out of mid-grade, so I had to finish up with premium. So much for saving money. :-P But Wife & I went out this morning and got chiro-crunched, got her bangs trimmed, got some groceries, and paid the cellphone bill.
I’m still smelling anti-freeze, but the mechanic forgot to tighten the overflow cap so there might be some slop sitting in little areas under the hood. If it’s not good & gone by tomorrow, back it goes Monday.
Somehow or another, we didn't get around to eating breakfast. We heated up leftovers for lunch.
The Boy’s girlfriend dyed her hair jet black (from dirty blonde) today. It’s as black as mine used to be. Maybe I ought to try that, just to see if anyone notices.
Wife got a short for pay (yay!) video project yesterday — seems a WWII vet earned a Purple Heart during the war, but the fire that injured him also took out his records so the military has just gotten around to issuing this guy the medal he deserved like 60 years ago. He’s 92 now. Wife taped the ceremony, having to dodge a rude newspaper photog who kept bumping her video camera & finally asking her “what are you doing here?” The only reason I’m here blogging instead of delivering video is that they called & asked for two more VHS tapes (which tacked an hour on). I guess I can stick the bread in the oven when I get back.
I’m still smelling anti-freeze, but the mechanic forgot to tighten the overflow cap so there might be some slop sitting in little areas under the hood. If it’s not good & gone by tomorrow, back it goes Monday.
Somehow or another, we didn't get around to eating breakfast. We heated up leftovers for lunch.
The Boy’s girlfriend dyed her hair jet black (from dirty blonde) today. It’s as black as mine used to be. Maybe I ought to try that, just to see if anyone notices.
Wife got a short for pay (yay!) video project yesterday — seems a WWII vet earned a Purple Heart during the war, but the fire that injured him also took out his records so the military has just gotten around to issuing this guy the medal he deserved like 60 years ago. He’s 92 now. Wife taped the ceremony, having to dodge a rude newspaper photog who kept bumping her video camera & finally asking her “what are you doing here?” The only reason I’m here blogging instead of delivering video is that they called & asked for two more VHS tapes (which tacked an hour on). I guess I can stick the bread in the oven when I get back.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005 No comments
Soaked... in more ways than one
Current music: Groove Salad
I got a spit of rain on the way to work this morning, just enough to worry me since I was on the motorcycle and had neglected to grab the fanny pack containing my rain suit. What little rain there was dried out by the time I got to work.
Wife called, relaying a message from the mechanic: he thinks it’s the water pump that’s leaking, not a heater hose. Looks like $350 parts & labor. I have half a mind to ask him if he has to go through that A/C line he said was broke, and to replace it if he does. Maybe I can get working A/C out of the deal, especially now that I won’t be needing it for a few months. (It’s supposed to get down to 50°F Friday morning!)
Meanwhile, the spark coils I ordered for Big Zook (an old Suzuki GS1000G I used to ride) came in, and I swung by to pick them up on the way home from work. Of course, it was raining when I came out, and a bit more than the spit this morning. The front of my jacket was pretty well soaked after a few miles, by which time the rain slacked up and eventually stopped. Riding the bike always tacks 20% onto the rain probability, and forgetting the rain suit adds some more.
So the dealer either forgot, or didn’t realize, that Suzuki had upgraded the spark coils (like most of the electric parts on that bike)... and doubled the price from $46 to $92. And each coil runs two cylinders (on a four-cylinder engine). So the young lady at the parts desk agreed to eat half the extra cost, and I told her I’d have to pick them up later in the week when I get some more moolah. Thank God I get paid Friday.
I’d really like to get Big Zook running though. If it runs good, it would make a great winter bike, what with the full fairing. It’s also big enough to handle a sidecar (although I won’t be the one to do that). We might just sell it; gas prices are heading north again and people are getting interested in alternate transportation again. One of the more optimistic futures I see for us could be titled Biker Nation....
I got a spit of rain on the way to work this morning, just enough to worry me since I was on the motorcycle and had neglected to grab the fanny pack containing my rain suit. What little rain there was dried out by the time I got to work.
Wife called, relaying a message from the mechanic: he thinks it’s the water pump that’s leaking, not a heater hose. Looks like $350 parts & labor. I have half a mind to ask him if he has to go through that A/C line he said was broke, and to replace it if he does. Maybe I can get working A/C out of the deal, especially now that I won’t be needing it for a few months. (It’s supposed to get down to 50°F Friday morning!)
Meanwhile, the spark coils I ordered for Big Zook (an old Suzuki GS1000G I used to ride) came in, and I swung by to pick them up on the way home from work. Of course, it was raining when I came out, and a bit more than the spit this morning. The front of my jacket was pretty well soaked after a few miles, by which time the rain slacked up and eventually stopped. Riding the bike always tacks 20% onto the rain probability, and forgetting the rain suit adds some more.
So the dealer either forgot, or didn’t realize, that Suzuki had upgraded the spark coils (like most of the electric parts on that bike)... and doubled the price from $46 to $92. And each coil runs two cylinders (on a four-cylinder engine). So the young lady at the parts desk agreed to eat half the extra cost, and I told her I’d have to pick them up later in the week when I get some more moolah. Thank God I get paid Friday.
I’d really like to get Big Zook running though. If it runs good, it would make a great winter bike, what with the full fairing. It’s also big enough to handle a sidecar (although I won’t be the one to do that). We might just sell it; gas prices are heading north again and people are getting interested in alternate transportation again. One of the more optimistic futures I see for us could be titled Biker Nation....
Fascinating
So fascinating, in fact, that I forgot to get the camera.
When I work at home, the most comfortable place to sit (at least this time of year) is on the the screened-in (and windowed-in, does that make it a Florida room?) porch. There's a typing desk sitting out there because there was nowhere else to put it, and its location means it doesn’t get its horizontal surface buried with clutter. So with the windows open and the ceiling fan going, it's not only like having an office with a window, it’s almost like working outside. I share the space with the cats, who are glad to have someone out there to ignore.
On the storm door leading outside, a praying mantis was on the glass, busily munching a bug he’d caught. The bug was struggling feebly, at least until the mantis bit its head off and chewed it up. The mantis didn’t seem to mind having an audience.
When I work at home, the most comfortable place to sit (at least this time of year) is on the the screened-in (and windowed-in, does that make it a Florida room?) porch. There's a typing desk sitting out there because there was nowhere else to put it, and its location means it doesn’t get its horizontal surface buried with clutter. So with the windows open and the ceiling fan going, it's not only like having an office with a window, it’s almost like working outside. I share the space with the cats, who are glad to have someone out there to ignore.
On the storm door leading outside, a praying mantis was on the glass, busily munching a bug he’d caught. The bug was struggling feebly, at least until the mantis bit its head off and chewed it up. The mantis didn’t seem to mind having an audience.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005 No comments
The World’s Shortest Fairy Tale
Received in email, cleaned up slightly.
Actually, the shortest fairy tale goes, “Once upon a time they lived happily ever after. The end.” But I like this one better; it has a moral.
Once upon a time, a prince asked a beautiful damsel for her hand in marriage.
She replied, “NO!”
And the prince spent much time hunting, fishing, and golfing; he drank beer and farted whenever he pleased, and lived happily ever after.
Actually, the shortest fairy tale goes, “Once upon a time they lived happily ever after. The end.” But I like this one better; it has a moral.
Working at home
Current music: Moody Blues - Say It With Love
I’ve sort-of fallen into a routine where I work at home on Tuesdays. Today it worked out even better than usual: Planetary Governor Bok-Bok asked school districts to take a couple of snow days Monday & Tuesday to cushion any Rita-related fuel shortages, so I didn't have to worry about getting the kids up and taking them to school. If that weren't good enough, I turned off the alarm so I could get a reasonable amount of sleep for a change.
Time to get some work done....
I’ve sort-of fallen into a routine where I work at home on Tuesdays. Today it worked out even better than usual: Planetary Governor Bok-Bok asked school districts to take a couple of snow days Monday & Tuesday to cushion any Rita-related fuel shortages, so I didn't have to worry about getting the kids up and taking them to school. If that weren't good enough, I turned off the alarm so I could get a reasonable amount of sleep for a change.
Time to get some work done....
Monday, September 26, 2005 No comments
Massachusetts Mandates Open File Formats
Over the strained objections of guess who, Massachusetts has mandated use of the Open Document format (ODF) for all office productivity applications. ODF is the native format supported by the Free (and cross-platform) OpenOffice program, and being adopted by the Linux-based Koffice suite as well.
This is a good thing. The taxpayers of Massachusetts will save money by not being locked into a proprietary “solution” (more like a solvent, dissolving state revenue), citizens can download a Free program instead of paying upwards of $400 for a commercial one to read government documents, and — amazing! — nobody died. Other state and national governments have flirted with the idea, and succumbed to, shall we say, “pressure.” One notable exception: the Largo, FL city government saves its fortunate citizens upwards of $1M/year by using Linux instead of that other operating system.
The question is, where did Massachusetts find their big brass ones? And will they rent them out to other governments?
This is a good thing. The taxpayers of Massachusetts will save money by not being locked into a proprietary “solution” (more like a solvent, dissolving state revenue), citizens can download a Free program instead of paying upwards of $400 for a commercial one to read government documents, and — amazing! — nobody died. Other state and national governments have flirted with the idea, and succumbed to, shall we say, “pressure.” One notable exception: the Largo, FL city government saves its fortunate citizens upwards of $1M/year by using Linux instead of that other operating system.
The question is, where did Massachusetts find their big brass ones? And will they rent them out to other governments?
Making time for other stuff
Daughter Dearest has gotten interested in playing Magic:the Gathering again. We’re both playing non-aggression decks — hers is a black/white pre-built with a couple of modifications; I use a blue-white deck I built primarily to frustrate The Boy’s green/black attack deck (which it did pretty well at). Last night, it was one of those situations where you could beat on each others’ creatures all evening and not do much damage to anything. We each had largish armies on the board; I finally ended up decking out.
Tonight, I lucked out; DD just doesn’t have the killer instinct. While I was mana-starved, she waited around until I managed to build up enough flying creatures — and protection for them — and then (as is usual with my deck) I nickel-and-dimed her to death. She could have put me away a lot earlier, and should have, and she realized it after it was too late.
We’re all going to drag the Dungeons&Dragons stuff out this weekend & have some fun. The kids who like to play are old enough to drive now, and FAR Manor has several good places to set up, so they’ll be coming here & we’ll be ready. (For some reason, they climbed into the attic once to play Magic, go figure.) I might try throwing some narrative on the blog afterwards, just for fun.
Tonight, I lucked out; DD just doesn’t have the killer instinct. While I was mana-starved, she waited around until I managed to build up enough flying creatures — and protection for them — and then (as is usual with my deck) I nickel-and-dimed her to death. She could have put me away a lot earlier, and should have, and she realized it after it was too late.
We’re all going to drag the Dungeons&Dragons stuff out this weekend & have some fun. The kids who like to play are old enough to drive now, and FAR Manor has several good places to set up, so they’ll be coming here & we’ll be ready. (For some reason, they climbed into the attic once to play Magic, go figure.) I might try throwing some narrative on the blog afterwards, just for fun.
Yuck
I didn't realize how dirty my keyboard wrist rest was at the office until I dripped a little water on it and tried to rub it off. I had to get some soap on a paper towel to clean it off.
Yay, rain!
Finally, we got some rain here. The last rain we got was literally what Katrina brought, and that was what, the end of August?
Car is still in the shop, the mechanic hasn’t gotten around to looking at it. I took the van so I wouldn’t have to deal with riding the motorcycle in the soup. Tomorrow I’m working at home, so no problem there.
Car is still in the shop, the mechanic hasn’t gotten around to looking at it. I took the van so I wouldn’t have to deal with riding the motorcycle in the soup. Tomorrow I’m working at home, so no problem there.
Sunday, September 25, 2005 No comments
Crunch
The Boy's cousin came by while I was napping, and parked his four-wheeler in the usual place in front of the garage. I got up in time to take The Boy to work, so we hopped in the van. I backed up, and... crunch. Smooth move, Ex-Lax; I just backed into the four-wheeler.
Great. Fortunately, I'd only broken out the plastic in one of the taillights. I scooped the pieces into a bag, took The Boy to work, then hunted up some airplane glue. Wife-o-licious was much more helpful than she admitted, as we played it like a jigsaw puzzle and glued the sucker back together with a little clear packaging tape for reinforcement. After the glue dries good, I'll put the lens back on.
Great. Fortunately, I'd only broken out the plastic in one of the taillights. I scooped the pieces into a bag, took The Boy to work, then hunted up some airplane glue. Wife-o-licious was much more helpful than she admitted, as we played it like a jigsaw puzzle and glued the sucker back together with a little clear packaging tape for reinforcement. After the glue dries good, I'll put the lens back on.
Floored
We're the third owners of FAR Manor. We had been making noises about putting a hardwood floor in the living room, but given the finances it wasn't going to happen any time soon.
The widow of the original owner was in the area a while back; we knew them when we lived back in the woods about 1/2 mile away. She came by to visit, stepped in the living room, and said, “Why did they put that carpet down? There's a hardwood floor underneath it!” I pulled up a corner, and sure enough it was there.
We moved furniture out of the way; I grabbed a big pair of shears and cut just past the walkway.
The harder half is where the carpet still is — we need to move some other furniture out of the way before we can pull up that side. Then there's the sanding and re-staining phase to come. Fun fun fun.
The widow of the original owner was in the area a while back; we knew them when we lived back in the woods about 1/2 mile away. She came by to visit, stepped in the living room, and said, “Why did they put that carpet down? There's a hardwood floor underneath it!” I pulled up a corner, and sure enough it was there.
We moved furniture out of the way; I grabbed a big pair of shears and cut just past the walkway.
The harder half is where the carpet still is — we need to move some other furniture out of the way before we can pull up that side. Then there's the sanding and re-staining phase to come. Fun fun fun.
Saturday, September 24, 2005 No comments
Some bumps in the road
The Boy and his girlfriend have hit their first couple of issues. On his part, one morning I took him to school and he told her that he'd gotten on the bus (she wakes him up in the morning, she's the only one he gets up for). For her part, he was planning to join some friends of his camping out Friday night & she talked him out of it.
So there's a little friction going on there. Wife had a little talk with the girlfriend about not being clingy, giving him space, and I told The Boy that lying to her about trivial stuff isn't smart: if he lies about little stuff, what else would he lie about?
So there's a little friction going on there. Wife had a little talk with the girlfriend about not being clingy, giving him space, and I told The Boy that lying to her about trivial stuff isn't smart: if he lies about little stuff, what else would he lie about?
Friday, September 23, 2005 1 comment
Must See: Pass Christian, MS after Katrina
Jimmy Johnson, the artist who draws the incredibly funny (and all too real-life) Arlo & Janis comic strip, has been a resident of Pass Christian, MS — one of the small coastal towns flattened by Katrina. Fortunately, he left well ahead of the storm and even managed to keep his website updated (much to the relief of his fans).
He and other residents were allowed to return this week and pick up some of the pieces. Fortunately for Jimmy and his neighbors, they were behind a low ridge that spared their houses of all but severe flooding (many houses in the area were floated off their foundations) and he is one of the lucky few who has been able to at least camp out in his own house. Instead of posting comics, he has been bicycling around what's left of the town and taking pictures of local landmarks, relief stations, and neighbors salvaging their belongings. Nothing I've seen in the media or the blogosphere has really brought home the devastation on a personal level like this photo gallery.
The most poignant picture in the gallery is this one of a memorial to local victims of Hurricane Camille in 1969.
Just go check it out. And if your local paper doesn't carry Arlo & Janis, you can at least read it online.
He and other residents were allowed to return this week and pick up some of the pieces. Fortunately for Jimmy and his neighbors, they were behind a low ridge that spared their houses of all but severe flooding (many houses in the area were floated off their foundations) and he is one of the lucky few who has been able to at least camp out in his own house. Instead of posting comics, he has been bicycling around what's left of the town and taking pictures of local landmarks, relief stations, and neighbors salvaging their belongings. Nothing I've seen in the media or the blogosphere has really brought home the devastation on a personal level like this photo gallery.
The most poignant picture in the gallery is this one of a memorial to local victims of Hurricane Camille in 1969.
Just go check it out. And if your local paper doesn't carry Arlo & Janis, you can at least read it online.
On the bike again
Yesterday morning, The Boy didn’t get up early enough to make the bus. No problem, the school is a block off my usual route to work and he needs some time to get breakfast and so forth anyway.
As I got to the school, I noticed the temp gauge in the car climbing beyond its usual 1/3 of the way up. I’d been smelling anti-freeze off & on lately, so I unloaded the kid and headed back to the gas station. When you can take the radiator cap off the car when the motor’s warm, that’s not a good sign.
Ever since I first smelled the anti-freeze, I’d been popping the hood and looking for steam. This time, I found it coming up behind the engine. I used a handy spigot at the front of the gas station, called Wife-o-licious, and she told me to drive over to our mechanic’s and she would meet me there. Got home, jumped on the motorcycle, and got off to work. The car’s still in the shop, so I’m biking it again today.
I think this brutal dirt road I drove up Sunday morning, picking up one of Daughter Dearest’s chorus-mates, poked a hole in one of my heater hoses. I’m not 100% certain, but it doesn’t really matter. I probably should have the system flushed this time of year anyway.
As I got to the school, I noticed the temp gauge in the car climbing beyond its usual 1/3 of the way up. I’d been smelling anti-freeze off & on lately, so I unloaded the kid and headed back to the gas station. When you can take the radiator cap off the car when the motor’s warm, that’s not a good sign.
Ever since I first smelled the anti-freeze, I’d been popping the hood and looking for steam. This time, I found it coming up behind the engine. I used a handy spigot at the front of the gas station, called Wife-o-licious, and she told me to drive over to our mechanic’s and she would meet me there. Got home, jumped on the motorcycle, and got off to work. The car’s still in the shop, so I’m biking it again today.
I think this brutal dirt road I drove up Sunday morning, picking up one of Daughter Dearest’s chorus-mates, poked a hole in one of my heater hoses. I’m not 100% certain, but it doesn’t really matter. I probably should have the system flushed this time of year anyway.
Ready for White Knuckle Sunday
White Knuckle Sunday is what I call days that I get tagged to preach at our little church. Being the lay leader, I’m supposed to do it once or twice a year, and it has been longer than that so....
As these events can come up without warning (I got a call on Saturday night once when the preacher developed a sore throat), I try to keep & develop some ideas in a folder on this iBook. Much to my pleasant surprise, I found something I’d worked on last year that was 99% complete. A few tweaks, and it’s ready to print out. I need a couple of props — for some reason, when I write a sermon, it seems to go better with a couple of props — but that’s primarily a piece of paper and a little box.
I’ll post the text on Street Prophets if I get a few requests. ;-)
As these events can come up without warning (I got a call on Saturday night once when the preacher developed a sore throat), I try to keep & develop some ideas in a folder on this iBook. Much to my pleasant surprise, I found something I’d worked on last year that was 99% complete. A few tweaks, and it’s ready to print out. I need a couple of props — for some reason, when I write a sermon, it seems to go better with a couple of props — but that’s primarily a piece of paper and a little box.
I’ll post the text on Street Prophets if I get a few requests. ;-)
Wednesday, September 21, 2005 3 comments
Gimme shelter
I stopped by the shelter last night to see if they needed any help, and to bring a couple of bushels of apples for one of the peeps who was heading to Gulfport today. Turns out that the 100 or so people of the next wave that were to come got diverted: FEMA decided to put them up in hotels instead. Huh? I’m thinkin’ somebody with a hotel knows somebody at FEMA, but I certainly can’t prove anything. The upshot is, the shelter is winding down; when the last few families get placed in their apartments or houses (which are being prepared), they’re done.
The good news is, they have been accredited (or whatever the equivalent is) by the Red Cross as a disaster shelter. That does mean a bit more work: they have to have everything in a state where they can open up, literally within hours. But they’re willing, and that’s the important part. Saturday is the last volunteer day; they're going to sort the mountain of clothes & other donations, put them on pallets, and ship them to a church somewhere down in hurricane country. If they don’t find a place in Louisiana, I’m sure there’s a couple of places in Texas that are going to need some help real soon.
As I was talking to the guy, a little kid (age about 4 or 5) came by with a piece of cake. Seeing that this was getting way on beyond supper time, I was thinking, “this kid’s gonna be wired big-time.” Sure enough, he came over and started punching my gut and talking to me: “Did that hurt?” “Your belly’s hard.” “Are you gonna have a baby?” Heh. Some guys work out all the time and have only a six-pack to show for it. I have a whole keg!
The good news is, they have been accredited (or whatever the equivalent is) by the Red Cross as a disaster shelter. That does mean a bit more work: they have to have everything in a state where they can open up, literally within hours. But they’re willing, and that’s the important part. Saturday is the last volunteer day; they're going to sort the mountain of clothes & other donations, put them on pallets, and ship them to a church somewhere down in hurricane country. If they don’t find a place in Louisiana, I’m sure there’s a couple of places in Texas that are going to need some help real soon.
As I was talking to the guy, a little kid (age about 4 or 5) came by with a piece of cake. Seeing that this was getting way on beyond supper time, I was thinking, “this kid’s gonna be wired big-time.” Sure enough, he came over and started punching my gut and talking to me: “Did that hurt?” “Your belly’s hard.” “Are you gonna have a baby?” Heh. Some guys work out all the time and have only a six-pack to show for it. I have a whole keg!
Tuesday, September 20, 2005 1 comment
Letter to the Editor: Peak Oil
I shot the following (without links) to the local paper. I got a phone call from them just now; they’re going to print it.
Hurricane Rita notwithstanding, it looks like refineries and pipelines are getting put back together and gas stations almost always have fuel to sell now. Things seem to be getting back to normal.
At least for now. The International Energy Agency, the official energy watchdog for Western nations, is now predicting non-OPEC oil production to peak in about 5 years. How much longer to OPEC’s peak is in question. By “peak oil,” the IEA means that those producers simply won’t be able to increase production anymore: there’s still oil in the ground, but we’ve nearly exhausted all the easily-extracted oil even when taking new discoveries and advances in technology into account. What oil is left will simply require more and more effort for less and less return.
Couple this fact (and even the big oil companies like Exxon-Mobil and Chevron admit it) with increased demand in Asia, as the economies of China and India expand, and we’re going to reach a point — probably sooner than peak oil — where demand grows beyond supply. Even the biggest fish in the pond, Saudi Arabia, is already nearly producing at maximum capacity, so saying “pump more oil” isn't going to do us any good. It will be obvious when we reach this point: we’ll see shortages and price spikes like the last three weeks, but they won’t go away. Ever.
We’ve built our whole lives around an assumption that we can simply drive anywhere we want, without worrying about the availability or price of fuel. Perhaps as early as next year, probably within five years, almost certainly within ten, that era will be over for good. Fortunately, we have some time to make some basic lifestyle changes and develop habits to help us cope. The aftermath of Katrina has shown that we can’t depend on our government to do much more than get in the way — it’s up to each of us to help ourselves, our family, and our neighbors deal with the coming changes.
Hurricane Rita notwithstanding, it looks like refineries and pipelines are getting put back together and gas stations almost always have fuel to sell now. Things seem to be getting back to normal.
At least for now. The International Energy Agency, the official energy watchdog for Western nations, is now predicting non-OPEC oil production to peak in about 5 years. How much longer to OPEC’s peak is in question. By “peak oil,” the IEA means that those producers simply won’t be able to increase production anymore: there’s still oil in the ground, but we’ve nearly exhausted all the easily-extracted oil even when taking new discoveries and advances in technology into account. What oil is left will simply require more and more effort for less and less return.
Couple this fact (and even the big oil companies like Exxon-Mobil and Chevron admit it) with increased demand in Asia, as the economies of China and India expand, and we’re going to reach a point — probably sooner than peak oil — where demand grows beyond supply. Even the biggest fish in the pond, Saudi Arabia, is already nearly producing at maximum capacity, so saying “pump more oil” isn't going to do us any good. It will be obvious when we reach this point: we’ll see shortages and price spikes like the last three weeks, but they won’t go away. Ever.
We’ve built our whole lives around an assumption that we can simply drive anywhere we want, without worrying about the availability or price of fuel. Perhaps as early as next year, probably within five years, almost certainly within ten, that era will be over for good. Fortunately, we have some time to make some basic lifestyle changes and develop habits to help us cope. The aftermath of Katrina has shown that we can’t depend on our government to do much more than get in the way — it’s up to each of us to help ourselves, our family, and our neighbors deal with the coming changes.
Sunday, September 18, 2005 1 comment
An Evening at the Shelter
We didn’t get a truck — which turns out to be a moot point, as I’ll explain shortly. Instead, we cleaned out our closets and took a vanload of clothes on over to the shelter early this afternoon.
We got over there, and before we could take our stuff in we had to wait for... a truck & trailer hauling furniture out. Turns out that various organizations are “placing” families in houses & apartments in the region, and (at least) this shelter is simply a whistle stop on the railroad. Good thing, because more are coming in next week; rumor has it that the next group of evacuees includes Vietnamese fishing families (which I remember being a point of ethnic tension the summer of 1980 that I spent in Biloxi). It’s kind of strange: we’re going to have new neighbors of ethnic groups heretofore unknown in “these here parts,” and it almost seems like they’re depopulating the coastal region — given the long-term environmental effects of flooding hitting all those toxic sites in Louisiana, that's probably for the best. I plan to avoid Gulf seafood for... pretty much the rest of my life.
But I digress. Later in the evening, I went back and signed up for a shift at the shelter, offering to do whatever was needed. It was a very educational experience. Some of the things I learned, in no particular order:
I’ll be going back as often as I can in the next week.
We got over there, and before we could take our stuff in we had to wait for... a truck & trailer hauling furniture out. Turns out that various organizations are “placing” families in houses & apartments in the region, and (at least) this shelter is simply a whistle stop on the railroad. Good thing, because more are coming in next week; rumor has it that the next group of evacuees includes Vietnamese fishing families (which I remember being a point of ethnic tension the summer of 1980 that I spent in Biloxi). It’s kind of strange: we’re going to have new neighbors of ethnic groups heretofore unknown in “these here parts,” and it almost seems like they’re depopulating the coastal region — given the long-term environmental effects of flooding hitting all those toxic sites in Louisiana, that's probably for the best. I plan to avoid Gulf seafood for... pretty much the rest of my life.
But I digress. Later in the evening, I went back and signed up for a shift at the shelter, offering to do whatever was needed. It was a very educational experience. Some of the things I learned, in no particular order:
- If this shelter is typical, they’re getting overwhelmed by the amount of material pouring in. The first part of my evening was spent tossing bags of clothes (including some I recognized) onto a mountain of stuff to sort through later. There are also two semi-trailers parked at their loading dock, literally packed with bags of clothes. In another part of the shelter, they have clothes that have been sorted through on long rows and racks, in a size to rival some department stores. It’s very likely they don’t need any more clothes.
- There is a list of things they need, but it changes from day to day. If you want to donate material, and you want your contribution to be of immediate use, bring things they want (don’t trust yesterday’s list though!) and mark them. Those things (diapers, I can almost guarantee being one of them) will be whisked into the distribution.
- Don’t expect a well-oiled machine. Nearly all the people at the shelter, including those running the show, have maybe a few days more experience than you do on your first night. If you’re willing to do whatever needs to be done, you’ll stay busy for as long as you want to be there. Ask for directions, someone will point you the right way.
- At this particular shelter, they need volunteers most between 9–11 a.m. and 9–11 p.m. I suspect that the evening shift is going to be pretty universal, because people are helping the families settle down for the night & get their kids to sleep.
- Just don’t donate used underwear. Period. I guess anyone intelligent enough to read Tales from FAR Manor has enough sense to know this, but I’d have thought anyone with a room-temperature IQ (in Celsius) would know it. Lordy.
- Volunteering at your local shelter is worth the effort, even if you don’t interact with (or even see) the people you’re helping. Stuff needs to be done, just go do it.
I’ll be going back as often as I can in the next week.
Saturday, September 17, 2005 No comments
The Routine
Current music: Red Rockers - Eve of Destruction (not as good as Barry McGuire’s original)
Went to see Just Like Heaven last night with the girlies (The Boy and his girlfriend saw The Exorcism of Emily Rose). I’m rarely in the mood to go to the theater, although I usually enjoy what’s set in front of me when I get there, and last night was no exception. A halfway-decent plot line and a little ghostly physical humor helped. The Boy liked Exorcism so that went well.
So work is work and life is life. I was hoping to get up to the resort today, but wife found out some of the evacuees are getting moved into otherwise unoccupied houses here & there. They have places to put people, they have furniture, but they don’t have a truck to move the furniture. Neither do we, but that’s never stopped her before. If we find a truck, that’s what we’ll be doing today. I’ll update later (with pictures, I hope) if things go off. Seems like something happens to scuttle relaxing weekends at least 90% of the time, but this one is actually worth the effort for a change.
“We’ll go next week,” she said. That’s what she said last week too, but (as usual) I refrained from saying so.
Went to see Just Like Heaven last night with the girlies (The Boy and his girlfriend saw The Exorcism of Emily Rose). I’m rarely in the mood to go to the theater, although I usually enjoy what’s set in front of me when I get there, and last night was no exception. A halfway-decent plot line and a little ghostly physical humor helped. The Boy liked Exorcism so that went well.
So work is work and life is life. I was hoping to get up to the resort today, but wife found out some of the evacuees are getting moved into otherwise unoccupied houses here & there. They have places to put people, they have furniture, but they don’t have a truck to move the furniture. Neither do we, but that’s never stopped her before. If we find a truck, that’s what we’ll be doing today. I’ll update later (with pictures, I hope) if things go off. Seems like something happens to scuttle relaxing weekends at least 90% of the time, but this one is actually worth the effort for a change.
“We’ll go next week,” she said. That’s what she said last week too, but (as usual) I refrained from saying so.
Thursday, September 15, 2005 1 comment
The Pledge
A lot of my misguided brethren are up in arms over a court ruling that the words “under God” in the Pledge of Allegiance infringe on the rights of school kids who are expected to stand up and recite it every morning (often garbling it — I remember when I thought it said “and to the republic for witches’ stands”).
A couple of thoughts...
First: the words “under God” do not appear in the original pledge — they were added in 1954, at the urging of Republican role model Joseph McCarthy (yes, that McCarthy). It’s important to remember that religious demagoguery is certainly not a new force in American politics; it has always been lurking in the tall grass, ready to bite any politician that strays from the broad middle. Removing those words simply restores the Pledge to its original form.
Second: welcome, my brethren, to the push-back. You have worked tirelessly for generations, attempting to establish your theocratic dystopia, and crying “persecution!” when you are simply not allowed to impose your beliefs on other citizens or our government — eventually, you provoke the wrong people and they won’t be intimidated. For every “Sponge Dob” Dobson and Pat Robertson trying to push non-Christians to the margins of society, there’s going to be a Madeline Murray O’Hair or Michael Newdow pushing back at us. Naturally, it doesn’t end there: I imagine that Newdow is getting death threats tonight, and we know Ms. O’Hair came to a bad end.
Third: this could be the work of God Himself. Personally, I think that the 1963 Supreme Court ruling that banned required prayer in schools (kids can pray on their own, and “they took prayer out of schools” is simply a Big Lie) was the result of God running out of patience. Why would God want His name taken in vain, through kids forced to pray in segregated schools? I think if Christians in general had been in front of the civil rights movement, rather than far too many white Christians fighting for the status quo, we might have a very different situation today. But now, we have segregation by class — poor school districts get the cast-offs of wealthy ones, and Christians largely either don’t want to see or (especially in the wealthy areas) actively oppose any kind of revenue sharing. Again, if Christians were in front of a movement to insure equal education for all in this country, we would be living in a different country.
Perhaps we are being judged. But not with a hurricane.
A couple of thoughts...
First: the words “under God” do not appear in the original pledge — they were added in 1954, at the urging of Republican role model Joseph McCarthy (yes, that McCarthy). It’s important to remember that religious demagoguery is certainly not a new force in American politics; it has always been lurking in the tall grass, ready to bite any politician that strays from the broad middle. Removing those words simply restores the Pledge to its original form.
Second: welcome, my brethren, to the push-back. You have worked tirelessly for generations, attempting to establish your theocratic dystopia, and crying “persecution!” when you are simply not allowed to impose your beliefs on other citizens or our government — eventually, you provoke the wrong people and they won’t be intimidated. For every “Sponge Dob” Dobson and Pat Robertson trying to push non-Christians to the margins of society, there’s going to be a Madeline Murray O’Hair or Michael Newdow pushing back at us. Naturally, it doesn’t end there: I imagine that Newdow is getting death threats tonight, and we know Ms. O’Hair came to a bad end.
Third: this could be the work of God Himself. Personally, I think that the 1963 Supreme Court ruling that banned required prayer in schools (kids can pray on their own, and “they took prayer out of schools” is simply a Big Lie) was the result of God running out of patience. Why would God want His name taken in vain, through kids forced to pray in segregated schools? I think if Christians in general had been in front of the civil rights movement, rather than far too many white Christians fighting for the status quo, we might have a very different situation today. But now, we have segregation by class — poor school districts get the cast-offs of wealthy ones, and Christians largely either don’t want to see or (especially in the wealthy areas) actively oppose any kind of revenue sharing. Again, if Christians were in front of a movement to insure equal education for all in this country, we would be living in a different country.
Behold, this was the sin of your sister Sodom: she and her daughters were arrogant, overfed, and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and needy.--Ezekiel 16:49
Perhaps we are being judged. But not with a hurricane.
When Icons Exceed their Shelf Life
Current music: BlueTonicWorld - Paradise (slow-mo-tonic mix)
I rarely — never, actually — post from work. If I run across a topic I want to blog about, I'll tuck it into a Sidenote pane and (with any luck) give it some thought.
So when I saw this posting about Garrison Keillor waving lawyers at a blogger for his parody T-shirt, my first thought was to rip the superannuated geezer a new one. You mess with one blogger, you mess with all of them — and God help you if your offense gets noticed by the likes of Kos or Commander Taco. I’d be willing to bet a doughnut that there are more people reading blogs than listening to Prairie Home Companion (which is a trademark of Garrison Keillor, and I couldn’t care less).
But upon reflection, it struck me as sad. In a way, Keillor’s radio show was an early form of blogging: he talks about stuff that’s happening around him and throws in a little humor. It’s ironic that, as I type this, he responded to a letter-writer (on a different topic), “it's pretty much an established rule in American life that when you are in power, you are the object of satire.” Unless, of course, you can file SLAPP suits against people satirizing you. Instead of keeping his show relevant to the changing times and media, he has let his brain ossify. It’s one of the saddest things of all, when a formerly creative mind gets rigid: the first sign of death.
I’d been planning to give his show a listen some time. Now I don’t think I’ll bother.
I rarely — never, actually — post from work. If I run across a topic I want to blog about, I'll tuck it into a Sidenote pane and (with any luck) give it some thought.
So when I saw this posting about Garrison Keillor waving lawyers at a blogger for his parody T-shirt, my first thought was to rip the superannuated geezer a new one. You mess with one blogger, you mess with all of them — and God help you if your offense gets noticed by the likes of Kos or Commander Taco. I’d be willing to bet a doughnut that there are more people reading blogs than listening to Prairie Home Companion (which is a trademark of Garrison Keillor, and I couldn’t care less).
But upon reflection, it struck me as sad. In a way, Keillor’s radio show was an early form of blogging: he talks about stuff that’s happening around him and throws in a little humor. It’s ironic that, as I type this, he responded to a letter-writer (on a different topic), “it's pretty much an established rule in American life that when you are in power, you are the object of satire.” Unless, of course, you can file SLAPP suits against people satirizing you. Instead of keeping his show relevant to the changing times and media, he has let his brain ossify. It’s one of the saddest things of all, when a formerly creative mind gets rigid: the first sign of death.
I’d been planning to give his show a listen some time. Now I don’t think I’ll bother.
Monday, September 12, 2005 No comments
They’re here!
Rumors condense to fact: the local megachurch wannabe is taking in 150 evacuees. Not 150 families, 150 people. They’ve put out a flyer listing all the stuff they’d like to get help with — furniture not the least of it. We’re batting around the idea of converting part of the detached garage into living space & inviting a family, but the climate control would be a nightmare (even if the walls & roof are already insulated).
Looks like CNN finally got wind of the SOBs from Gretna blocking the bridge. They had the police chief on, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying in the way of excuses, because it was in a pizza joint & the sound was off. I truly hope some of those responsible (in Gretna, not the pizza place) do jail time.
Looks like CNN finally got wind of the SOBs from Gretna blocking the bridge. They had the police chief on, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying in the way of excuses, because it was in a pizza joint & the sound was off. I truly hope some of those responsible (in Gretna, not the pizza place) do jail time.
Crazy land
Some friends of ours have a flaky daughter, who’s 21 and has 3 kids (all at once — triplets). She “tried” to commit suicide today; I use quotes because it was one of those attention-getting mechanisms, the usual post-fight-with-boyfriend kind of thing. She did leave a note, “love to everyone and sorry I’m such a screw-up” or some such tripe.
It backfired on her though; she got a bit more attention than she wanted. They're keeping her in the hospital overnight for “observation” — meaning they’re going to ship her to a psychiatric hospital as soon as there’s an opening. whoops!
Wife’s bro and his wife are splitting up too. Everyone’s wigging out around here. We probably ought to have the water checked or something.
It backfired on her though; she got a bit more attention than she wanted. They're keeping her in the hospital overnight for “observation” — meaning they’re going to ship her to a psychiatric hospital as soon as there’s an opening. whoops!
Wife’s bro and his wife are splitting up too. Everyone’s wigging out around here. We probably ought to have the water checked or something.
Spider wisdom
Spiders and me are not exactly the most compatible creatures on the planet. The little SOBs seem to think it’s great fun to run a guy line across a walkway, about the same distance from the ground as my nose. For my part, if I’m wearing shoes and I see one near the ground, it’s stompin’ time.
So one night a while back, the night I finished bottling my beer in fact, I had cleaned up the equipment, loaded it up in its box, and carried it to the outbuilding where I keep it in between batches. I had some extra bottles, so I had to make several trips. Coming out onto the small stoop, I saw one of the biggest spiders ever, off to the left, hanging on a guy wire. He saw me too, and immediately started (wisely) putting some distance between us. It was dark, and I didn’t have a stick, so I glared at him (which made him back off even farther). He had a huge web between the uprights of the stoop and a tree, that much I could see in the dark.
Next morning, I armed myself for battle and marched over to... nothing. The spider had taken down the entire web, except for a single guy wire, and left for parts unknown! Smart little barstid — which is probably how he lived to get that big.
So one night a while back, the night I finished bottling my beer in fact, I had cleaned up the equipment, loaded it up in its box, and carried it to the outbuilding where I keep it in between batches. I had some extra bottles, so I had to make several trips. Coming out onto the small stoop, I saw one of the biggest spiders ever, off to the left, hanging on a guy wire. He saw me too, and immediately started (wisely) putting some distance between us. It was dark, and I didn’t have a stick, so I glared at him (which made him back off even farther). He had a huge web between the uprights of the stoop and a tree, that much I could see in the dark.
Next morning, I armed myself for battle and marched over to... nothing. The spider had taken down the entire web, except for a single guy wire, and left for parts unknown! Smart little barstid — which is probably how he lived to get that big.
Saturday, September 10, 2005 No comments
Some thoughts on the “debit cards”
Among the government and private assistance (finally) being offered to victims of Hurricane Katrina is a $2000 debit card being offered to various households. Experience with The Boy's girlfriend1 suggests that $2000 is, at best, barely adequate to establish a single person who has nothing. I seriously doubt it would be enough to get a family of even three set up, even with all the other help they might be getting.
The girlfriend, I figure, might be able to get established in her own place with $2000. She would need: deposit on an apartment plus a month's rent, a car (no public transport out here!), insurance & fuel for the car, deposits and payments for turning on lights, gas, and phone, maybe some furniture (like, you know, a bed & a dining room table for starters) if the apartment doesn't have any, and enough food to tide her over to her next paycheck. Oh, and there's cigarettes, but don't get me started on that. Evacuees need all that to get back on their feet, plus a job or two (the girlfriend has a job at least). It might take $2000 or more just to live on until they find work.
It's difficult to be independent when you're starting — or starting over — from scratch. Some will go back to rebuild their city... and I wonder if some of the refuseniks stayed because they hoped to be first in line getting cleanup and repair work. Others will be glad to relocate, especially with people wanting to help them get started. For all the noise we make about New Orleans “charm” and so forth, living poor would certainly obscure the charm. I suppose it would be like that for me if I moved to the beach: it's a nice place to visit, but if I lived there I'd have to fight traffic every morning, and I'm not used to living cheek-by-jowl with hundreds of people; beach communities don't seem to have a problem cramming a thousand people into the same amount of land as FAR Manor's acreage, where it's just the six of us (including Lobster and girlfriend).
Maybe that's why hurricanes do so much damage these days.
1I really need to come up with a nickname for her....
The girlfriend, I figure, might be able to get established in her own place with $2000. She would need: deposit on an apartment plus a month's rent, a car (no public transport out here!), insurance & fuel for the car, deposits and payments for turning on lights, gas, and phone, maybe some furniture (like, you know, a bed & a dining room table for starters) if the apartment doesn't have any, and enough food to tide her over to her next paycheck. Oh, and there's cigarettes, but don't get me started on that. Evacuees need all that to get back on their feet, plus a job or two (the girlfriend has a job at least). It might take $2000 or more just to live on until they find work.
It's difficult to be independent when you're starting — or starting over — from scratch. Some will go back to rebuild their city... and I wonder if some of the refuseniks stayed because they hoped to be first in line getting cleanup and repair work. Others will be glad to relocate, especially with people wanting to help them get started. For all the noise we make about New Orleans “charm” and so forth, living poor would certainly obscure the charm. I suppose it would be like that for me if I moved to the beach: it's a nice place to visit, but if I lived there I'd have to fight traffic every morning, and I'm not used to living cheek-by-jowl with hundreds of people; beach communities don't seem to have a problem cramming a thousand people into the same amount of land as FAR Manor's acreage, where it's just the six of us (including Lobster and girlfriend).
Maybe that's why hurricanes do so much damage these days.
1I really need to come up with a nickname for her....
Energy gloom
I saw several stations on the way home with bagged-up pumps yesterday. The BP near the office, that had been out for two days, finally got a shipment in though. Around home, the gas stations have nothing but regular, and now at least some of them put a 20 gallon limit on purchases (“during this temporary energy crisis” says the sign). I'm getting the impression that supplies are really tight at the moment, and it wouldn't take much to create out-and-out shortages.
As if gas(oline) was our only problem. Natural gas production got hosed up big-time by Katrina too. Economist/blogger Jerome a Paris wrote, “Now that [natural] gas costs 3-4 times more, power prices are set to increase by 50-100%.”
Got wood?
As if gas(oline) was our only problem. Natural gas production got hosed up big-time by Katrina too. Economist/blogger Jerome a Paris wrote, “Now that [natural] gas costs 3-4 times more, power prices are set to increase by 50-100%.”
Got wood?
Morning runaround
The lawn mower is finally fixed. No sooner had I put the blade on, Daughter Dearest mowed out back until the replacement bolt I put on the handle came off & got lost. I went by the lawn mower place (among other things) and the guy let me take a couple of the bolts with big plastic wingnuts (lets you fold up the handle for transportation or storage). Other things we did on the trip this morning:
- ate at Waffle House
- got groceries (I put some ice in a cooler, which helped keep the milk & ice cream cold coming back)
- complained to the cellphone peeps about my phone's camera being out of focus (they gave me a number for a warranty exchange, yay)
- swung by the library to pick up a loaner (Haiku: This Other World by Richard Wright)
- gassed up the minivan — more on that in another post
Friday, September 09, 2005 No comments
Here they come
I'd forgotten that schools have a pretty good rumor mill. The kids are telling us that a largeish church is taking in either 100 or 150 families, just that one church. They've heard that something like 700 kids will be signing up for school soon. Seeing as the system currently has about 2000 kids, that's going to be a pretty big influx. I presume the actual number will be somewhat less, but if they can do it without problems, bring 'em on.
Now we're hearing the death tool in New Orleans may not be as horrendous as we thought. Good, let's clear out some space and make room for them, then.
Now we're hearing the death tool in New Orleans may not be as horrendous as we thought. Good, let's clear out some space and make room for them, then.
Funeral for a friend
It’s been said that nothing travels faster than bad news, but the cosmic rule that makes me the last to know something takes precedence even over the speed of bad news. Wife called me this afternoon: a kid that used to go to our church got himself killed in a car wreck a couple of nights ago. Not even a year older than The Boy, and *poof* he's gone. Ran wide in a curb and hit another car, according to the papers.
I told The Boy that this was exactly the reason we worry about him. He laughed.
I told The Boy that this was exactly the reason we worry about him. He laughed.
The stuff I have to document...
One of the products I write about at work has a command-line interface (CLI) used for debugging and troubleshooting. Customers got wind of it, requested documentation, and that’s usually where I get involved.
One particular (or should I say peculiar) troubleshooting command is “ti_ts” — which starts a troubleshooting routine on some TI chips in the box. I tried to get them to change the name, to no avail. So on this development cycle, they added a “codesperms” command (which translates to “active codes per minislot’). I have a pretty good idea what the next oddly-named command will be, but don’t want to give them ideas just in case one of them stumbles across this blog....
One particular (or should I say peculiar) troubleshooting command is “ti_ts” — which starts a troubleshooting routine on some TI chips in the box. I tried to get them to change the name, to no avail. So on this development cycle, they added a “codesperms” command (which translates to “active codes per minislot’). I have a pretty good idea what the next oddly-named command will be, but don’t want to give them ideas just in case one of them stumbles across this blog....
Thursday, September 08, 2005 3 comments
Brevity
This is what happens when you try to be a little too concise with your writing:
On the other hand, the shoe fits....
On the other hand, the shoe fits....
Wednesday, September 07, 2005 No comments
Sign of the Times
“No Fuel”
I noticed the place where I usually get gas had run dry overnight, while I was on the way in this morning. I gassed up last night there, and they only had regular, so it wasn't a complete surprise. But I saw several stations with bags on their pump handles on the way home this evening.
Given the situation along the coast, gas being hard to find is nothing to complain about. Just sayin’.
I noticed the place where I usually get gas had run dry overnight, while I was on the way in this morning. I gassed up last night there, and they only had regular, so it wasn't a complete surprise. But I saw several stations with bags on their pump handles on the way home this evening.
Given the situation along the coast, gas being hard to find is nothing to complain about. Just sayin’.
More FrameMaker 7.2 Leakage
A post on the FrameUsers mailing list (thanks Thomas!) suggests doing a Google search on “FrameMaker new multiple undo” and then reading the cached page from Adobe UK (the first link when I tried it). Doing this turns up some more new features:
A sidebar had links for Solaris and Microsoft updates, suggesting that MacOS users are still left out. Figures.
- multiple undo (one of those long-standing malfeatures I griped about yesterday)
- some support for XML Schema (probably conversion to EDD)
- support for native Photoshop (PSD) files
A sidebar had links for Solaris and Microsoft updates, suggesting that MacOS users are still left out. Figures.
Tuesday, September 06, 2005 1 comment
The Boy: Good News, Bad News
The Boy grabbed Stephen King's Dreamcatcher from the school library last week. He's been at it pretty heavily, taking it to work with him and reading it on breaks & waiting for me to pick him up. It's good to see him that interested in reading; it has to lead to improving his spelling skills.
That was the good news. The bad news I expected: he's once again gotten difficult to get up for school.
That was the good news. The bad news I expected: he's once again gotten difficult to get up for school.
Homebrew, glorious homebrew
I opened the first bottle of Proud Mary — a stout with some fresh rosemary boiled in. I've achieved a personal best with this one; there's no edge to it. Just smooth, dark beer.
My only beef: it could use a little more carbonation, in contrast to the last batch that had a bit too much. The difference may have been the first fermentation — last batch went for a week; I left Proud Mary going for two. Next batch, I'll try 10 days and see what happens.
My only beef: it could use a little more carbonation, in contrast to the last batch that had a bit too much. The difference may have been the first fermentation — last batch went for a week; I left Proud Mary going for two. Next batch, I'll try 10 days and see what happens.
Adobe Leaks FrameMaker 7.2 Info
In which I take a break from chronicling my personal life and talk about work stuff.
Over the Labor Day weekend, various pages on Adobe’s website mentioned the unreleased version 7.2 of FrameMaker, the preferred tool of the trade for most technical writers (who often affectionately call it “Frame”). Adobe (usually one to hold its cards close to the vest) has since revised the pages, although the old ones lived another day in Google’s caches before those too were updated.
But haste often leads to things getting skipped over, and that was the case with a migration guide white paper on Adobe Germany’s site. I grabbed an unrevised copy of the PDF Tuesday afternoon; the good people at Adobe.de have certainly gone home for the day but I expect the white paper to be sanitized first thing tomorrow morning (by about 2 a.m. EDT).
If you download too late, here’s what searching the PDF for “7.2” turned up in the way of new features:
All this is structure-related, which doesn’t do you much good if you aren’t interested in moving to structured Frame. I’m sure that there will be the usual bug replacements (i.e. removing some known bugs and introducing new bugs) as well.
A group of vendors and trainers have been constantly flogging their “FrameMaker Chautauqua” conference on various mailing lists where FrameMaker is either the main or a common topic. The conference includes presentations by Adobe and will be held in early November, so I expect that Adobe will officially announce version 7.2 either at the conference or shortly before. If I’m right, it’s safe to assume that 7.2 is in beta testing right now.
FrameMaker has languished in a near-limbo pretty much since Adobe bought up Frame Technologies some years back. Frame has benefitted from minor updates from time to time, but long-standing bugs and malfeatures have persisted. That, and an abortive foray into porting the Unix version to Linux, have lead many to believe that Adobe is less than enthusiastic about supporting the program. The final straw for some of us was in January 2004, when Adobe dropped support for MacOS citing lack of sales (largely brought on by Adobe’s reluctance to modernize the MacOS version to run natively on MacOS X, leaving FrameMaker one of the last reasons to ever use the “Classic” environment).
Pretty much all summer, the “Chautauqua” people have been hyping Adobe’s presence at their upcoming conference, promising Frame users that they won’t be disappointed by what Adobe has to say about Frame’s life expectancy. Unfortunately, there’s no word on re-introducing MacOS support, preferably for MacOS X. That’s a show-stopper for me and many others: if the rest of the tool chain works well, why change the underlying platform if one tool is no longer supported?
Personally, even if Adobe repents of Windows-centricity, I’m not convinced that page-oriented WYSIWYG tools like Frame are the way forward for technical writing — in a world where our final output is more likely to be PDF and HTML than paper, it doesn’t make much sense to work on the electronic equivalent of a printed page. It makes more sense nowadays to work with markup, either directly (ooo, icky tags, say my less-technical brethren and sistren) or indirectly through an interface that provides formatting hints but no fixed margins or other page-centric details. LyX is a good example of the latter kind of program.
In the end, I expect little or no surprises come November. I’m certainly not going to ask my boss for $695 + hotel to attend a conference for a tool I’m currently planning to abandon, even if the conference is close enough to drive to.
Over the Labor Day weekend, various pages on Adobe’s website mentioned the unreleased version 7.2 of FrameMaker, the preferred tool of the trade for most technical writers (who often affectionately call it “Frame”). Adobe (usually one to hold its cards close to the vest) has since revised the pages, although the old ones lived another day in Google’s caches before those too were updated.
But haste often leads to things getting skipped over, and that was the case with a migration guide white paper on Adobe Germany’s site. I grabbed an unrevised copy of the PDF Tuesday afternoon; the good people at Adobe.de have certainly gone home for the day but I expect the white paper to be sanitized first thing tomorrow morning (by about 2 a.m. EDT).
If you download too late, here’s what searching the PDF for “7.2” turned up in the way of new features:
- XSL processing at XML import and export (alongside existing read/write rules) — this is a feature I’ve wished for, but (see below) probably won’t get.
- Conversion tables, which add structure to unstructured files, can create a “first draft” EDD (a combination of DTD and style sheet).
- Conversion tables also support a “root element” to be applied to the converted document.
All this is structure-related, which doesn’t do you much good if you aren’t interested in moving to structured Frame. I’m sure that there will be the usual bug replacements (i.e. removing some known bugs and introducing new bugs) as well.
A group of vendors and trainers have been constantly flogging their “FrameMaker Chautauqua” conference on various mailing lists where FrameMaker is either the main or a common topic. The conference includes presentations by Adobe and will be held in early November, so I expect that Adobe will officially announce version 7.2 either at the conference or shortly before. If I’m right, it’s safe to assume that 7.2 is in beta testing right now.
FrameMaker has languished in a near-limbo pretty much since Adobe bought up Frame Technologies some years back. Frame has benefitted from minor updates from time to time, but long-standing bugs and malfeatures have persisted. That, and an abortive foray into porting the Unix version to Linux, have lead many to believe that Adobe is less than enthusiastic about supporting the program. The final straw for some of us was in January 2004, when Adobe dropped support for MacOS citing lack of sales (largely brought on by Adobe’s reluctance to modernize the MacOS version to run natively on MacOS X, leaving FrameMaker one of the last reasons to ever use the “Classic” environment).
Pretty much all summer, the “Chautauqua” people have been hyping Adobe’s presence at their upcoming conference, promising Frame users that they won’t be disappointed by what Adobe has to say about Frame’s life expectancy. Unfortunately, there’s no word on re-introducing MacOS support, preferably for MacOS X. That’s a show-stopper for me and many others: if the rest of the tool chain works well, why change the underlying platform if one tool is no longer supported?
Personally, even if Adobe repents of Windows-centricity, I’m not convinced that page-oriented WYSIWYG tools like Frame are the way forward for technical writing — in a world where our final output is more likely to be PDF and HTML than paper, it doesn’t make much sense to work on the electronic equivalent of a printed page. It makes more sense nowadays to work with markup, either directly (ooo, icky tags, say my less-technical brethren and sistren) or indirectly through an interface that provides formatting hints but no fixed margins or other page-centric details. LyX is a good example of the latter kind of program.
In the end, I expect little or no surprises come November. I’m certainly not going to ask my boss for $695 + hotel to attend a conference for a tool I’m currently planning to abandon, even if the conference is close enough to drive to.
Sunday, September 04, 2005 No comments
Slow progress
Current music: di.fm EuroDance
I haven't addressed the pile of logs that need splitting in some time now. I started whacking at them a little bit today, but decided instead to pick up some sticks in the back; it's about at the point now where I can start weed-whacking without getting the string tangled in a fallen branch. I also need to address the front of the place, on the other side of the driveway, where we had the timber people clear the pines. Picking up the sticks, tilling or plowing the ground to smooth it out, and planting grass seed are things that remain to be done; later this month is the best time to do it.
We got a new lawn mower blade today and I put it on. The boys are now out of excuses to mow the lawn. (I'm sure they'll find some new ones though.)
I helped Lobster change the oil in his truck today... meaning I did most of the work while he watched. Rangers mount the oil filter vertically, leaving very little room for a strap wrench (I told Lobster to get a cap wrench next time he went to the parts place). That sucker was tight. But eventually we succeeded, just in time to get him off to KFC. Then I put my Civic up on ramps and changed the oil in it too. But I'm kind of surprised that Lobster's dad never showed him what to do — he works for one of the pipeline companies (yeah, one that got clobbered by Katrina) and has weird hours, so maybe that's the reason. Or maybe he makes enough $$$ that he just has it done.
Chicken house duty for a couple of hours today as well. Hope everyone else's Labor Day weekend is work-free and fun....
I haven't addressed the pile of logs that need splitting in some time now. I started whacking at them a little bit today, but decided instead to pick up some sticks in the back; it's about at the point now where I can start weed-whacking without getting the string tangled in a fallen branch. I also need to address the front of the place, on the other side of the driveway, where we had the timber people clear the pines. Picking up the sticks, tilling or plowing the ground to smooth it out, and planting grass seed are things that remain to be done; later this month is the best time to do it.
We got a new lawn mower blade today and I put it on. The boys are now out of excuses to mow the lawn. (I'm sure they'll find some new ones though.)
I helped Lobster change the oil in his truck today... meaning I did most of the work while he watched. Rangers mount the oil filter vertically, leaving very little room for a strap wrench (I told Lobster to get a cap wrench next time he went to the parts place). That sucker was tight. But eventually we succeeded, just in time to get him off to KFC. Then I put my Civic up on ramps and changed the oil in it too. But I'm kind of surprised that Lobster's dad never showed him what to do — he works for one of the pipeline companies (yeah, one that got clobbered by Katrina) and has weird hours, so maybe that's the reason. Or maybe he makes enough $$$ that he just has it done.
Chicken house duty for a couple of hours today as well. Hope everyone else's Labor Day weekend is work-free and fun....
What do you want out of life?
Perhaps the best way to get what you want from life is to know what you want from life in the first place. As I cruise toward what I hope is the mid-point of my life, I think I know what I want of life and (being a guy) it's a fairly short & simple list:
Beyond that, a quiet, modest life with a quiet, modest retirement would pretty much wrap it up.
I'm halfway there: I have a place to stay (FAR Manor) and lots of toys. The rest is a faraway dream. I haven't had nearly enough to drink to willingly expand much beyond that. I'm interested in hearing what other people want though, and how far along they are to getting it.
- A place to stay
- A few toys
- “Whoopie” a couple of times a week
- Weekends mostly available for rest and/or recreation
Beyond that, a quiet, modest life with a quiet, modest retirement would pretty much wrap it up.
I'm halfway there: I have a place to stay (FAR Manor) and lots of toys. The rest is a faraway dream. I haven't had nearly enough to drink to willingly expand much beyond that. I'm interested in hearing what other people want though, and how far along they are to getting it.
Friday, September 02, 2005 1 comment
We're on our own... aren't we?
Given the lackadaisical initial response to the New Orleans flooding, one has to wonder what would happen if we had a nationwide disaster, like the Spanish Flu pandemic, that affected more than a “mere” million people in a few hundred square miles of coastal territory. Given the reports we've seen this week, we can pretty much assume we'll be on our own. “Our” government has dumped too many resources on, and given too much attention to, a war we didn't have to fight to worry about details like saving lives at home. You know it's serious when reporters tee off on a Senator, telling her he saw rats eating a corpse on TV.
In the middle of all this, Daughter Dearest asked me if we could get a picture of the night sky. I cranked the aperature wide open, put the shutter on its max of 15 seconds, and took a few shots. She was able to use iPhoto's one-click Enhance to get something worth keeping:
(The thumbnail doesn't do it justice, click it to get the full-size picture.)
Looking up at all those stars, some of which we know have planets, you can't help but think that there's someone out there, someone who maybe has figured 'most everything out. Like Fox Mulder, I want to believe, because the alternative is almost too terrible to give much thought: that we're alone in the universe, stuck on a planet run by the worst of us.
The mayor of New Orleans is right: God is watching. He knows why it took so long to get aid rolling in. I cannot curse, I cannot condemn, for that is not my place. Perhaps feeling empty like I do is better in that respect.
In the middle of all this, Daughter Dearest asked me if we could get a picture of the night sky. I cranked the aperature wide open, put the shutter on its max of 15 seconds, and took a few shots. She was able to use iPhoto's one-click Enhance to get something worth keeping:
(The thumbnail doesn't do it justice, click it to get the full-size picture.)
Looking up at all those stars, some of which we know have planets, you can't help but think that there's someone out there, someone who maybe has figured 'most everything out. Like Fox Mulder, I want to believe, because the alternative is almost too terrible to give much thought: that we're alone in the universe, stuck on a planet run by the worst of us.
The mayor of New Orleans is right: God is watching. He knows why it took so long to get aid rolling in. I cannot curse, I cannot condemn, for that is not my place. Perhaps feeling empty like I do is better in that respect.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005 1 comment
70s flashback
45 cents my foot... more like 55 cents. My cellphone camera is somewhat not so very good at distance shots; that's $3.12 for regular on the sign. People are lining up to buy it, too: the Shell station across the highway had $3.49 up. The BP stations were $2.79 everywhere on my run home — I don't know how they're doing it. But a 70 cent/gallon spread isn't tenable; things will level out.
The long lines and frayed nerves remind me of the 70s shortages, not long before I was old enough to drive. There's already rumors of shortages, gas stations closing down. It will be a good two weeks, minimum, before the refineries and pipelines get sorted out. If stations are closing now, we're in trouble. Thank God I can work at home.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005 No comments
Yeesh
Current music: Kate Ryan - Scream for More (Club Dub)
We all gathered 'round and ate supper last night, everyone but Lobster — something that doesn't happen much what with various people working and so forth. The Boy's girlfriend is still with us; we're trying to find her a place to stay and coming up short (but we'll get there!!!). We were talking, and the girlfriend was saying something, and it struck me: this could actually be my future daughter-in-law. The Boy is telling me they want to get married after he graduates from school “this year” (I don't think the graduation part will happen, but that's my pessimistic side).
Quite frankly, I'm not ready to have those kind of thoughts yet, but I probably don't have a lot of choice in the matter. Fatherhood itself was something thrust on me before I felt ready, the gift of a birth control failure. It's not the girl* herself; I doubt I would feel much different if she was a genius, or rich (she's very very much neither). I'm just not ready to process this kind of input. I'm also not ready to be thinking about grandchildren... sure, I'll be 50 in a few years, maybe I can think about it then.
*She's 20, but the important part (mental) is closer to 16. So I use the term “girl” here in its strict sense, to indicate an immature female human.
We all gathered 'round and ate supper last night, everyone but Lobster — something that doesn't happen much what with various people working and so forth. The Boy's girlfriend is still with us; we're trying to find her a place to stay and coming up short (but we'll get there!!!). We were talking, and the girlfriend was saying something, and it struck me: this could actually be my future daughter-in-law. The Boy is telling me they want to get married after he graduates from school “this year” (I don't think the graduation part will happen, but that's my pessimistic side).
Quite frankly, I'm not ready to have those kind of thoughts yet, but I probably don't have a lot of choice in the matter. Fatherhood itself was something thrust on me before I felt ready, the gift of a birth control failure. It's not the girl* herself; I doubt I would feel much different if she was a genius, or rich (she's very very much neither). I'm just not ready to process this kind of input. I'm also not ready to be thinking about grandchildren... sure, I'll be 50 in a few years, maybe I can think about it then.
*She's 20, but the important part (mental) is closer to 16. So I use the term “girl” here in its strict sense, to indicate an immature female human.
When drains rebel
The perfect storm: plenty of rain, running the dishwasher & clothes washer, and a toilet with a stuck-open flapper. The bathroom with the stuck toilet started taking on water last night after my last post; fortunately, there were plenty of dirty clothes and used towels (and an area rug) to soak up most of it before I realized what was happening. Walking in the bathroom & getting my feet wet was how I figured it out.
A night of rest and not so much rain seems to have settled things down for now. But I guess we need to check the drain field and maybe pump the septic tank.
A night of rest and not so much rain seems to have settled things down for now. But I guess we need to check the drain field and maybe pump the septic tank.
Monday, August 29, 2005 1 comment
Rain coming down, gas going up
FAR Manor is far enough from Katrina that we're only getting a little taste of it. Having had to drive home through nearly blinding rain this evening, without wind to complicate matters further, I don't envy anyone closer in. I drove through a tornado warning area, and I saw everything but rotation at one point. The intersection where I usually get off the four-lane was getting lots of lightning down the way, so I went up and around.
During a lull in the action, I poured the water out of the bottom of my potted basil and dragged all the herbs in pots (and flowers in hanging baskets) into the garage. I think one of the sage plants (in the ground) is soggy toast, looking at it, but maybe it'll perk up. I think we already got the two inches of rain predicted for the area, and we have another day to go. Yuck! Then we went into town and filled gas tanks and containers... one of the attendants told the wife that they're going to jump the price from $2.63 to $3.08 tonight! Katrina has hosed up a bunch of production down along the Gulf, so we may actually see some genuine shortages before too long. I took The Barge today and gassed it up where it was $2.47, and we got a 10 cent discount, which made a pretty big difference compared to around here (especially tomorrow). Turns out The Barge gets close to 25mpg with fresh oil and careful highway driving, maybe even a little better than the minivan (big shock). But I tell ya, Dominic Tocci nails it.
Plan B is in action. I'm working at home tomorrow, maybe Wednesday if things don't go haywire, and I have the motorcycle if I need to go anywhere. Maybe things will recover before we have to buy much gas again. (Yeah right.)
During a lull in the action, I poured the water out of the bottom of my potted basil and dragged all the herbs in pots (and flowers in hanging baskets) into the garage. I think one of the sage plants (in the ground) is soggy toast, looking at it, but maybe it'll perk up. I think we already got the two inches of rain predicted for the area, and we have another day to go. Yuck! Then we went into town and filled gas tanks and containers... one of the attendants told the wife that they're going to jump the price from $2.63 to $3.08 tonight! Katrina has hosed up a bunch of production down along the Gulf, so we may actually see some genuine shortages before too long. I took The Barge today and gassed it up where it was $2.47, and we got a 10 cent discount, which made a pretty big difference compared to around here (especially tomorrow). Turns out The Barge gets close to 25mpg with fresh oil and careful highway driving, maybe even a little better than the minivan (big shock). But I tell ya, Dominic Tocci nails it.
Plan B is in action. I'm working at home tomorrow, maybe Wednesday if things don't go haywire, and I have the motorcycle if I need to go anywhere. Maybe things will recover before we have to buy much gas again. (Yeah right.)
Saturday, August 27, 2005 2 comments
Familyyyyyyyy Feuuuuuuuuud
So Big V asks to come over today and talk to The Boy and his girlfriend. Fine, we say, just no raised voices. So she comes by with itemized invoices for each of them, listing how much they owe her: which came to about twice what she said they owed her on Thursday (anything Big V says is usually forgotten, at least by her, within 24 hours). I sit quietly, mostly, and listen to her harangue them for a while, raising her voice bit by bit, until her tone got this “I'm the queen of the farking universe, you owe me” edge that I've heard from the girlfriend's crazy mom.
At that point, I had enough of her yelling at them and told her so. She rounds on me with some crap about how I must want them to be freeloaders. Baaaaaaaaaaad move. This female is a professional leech, hasn't paid squat on a house they “paid” to move onto the property, has stuck her parents with co-signed loans, etc.
I probably shouldn't have said anything, but at that point I no longer cared. “I wouldn't be calling anyone else a freeloader if I were you,” I said.
“What's that supposed to mean?” in this self-righteous tone that just about anyone gets when they're called on something like this. I ran through the stuff above, and it was go time. I was informed how they mow the parents' lawn twice a month to pay for the house, and blah blah blah, and then she called The Boy a bastard. Now it's really go time, as the wife shot to her feet and Big V beat a hasty retreat out the door. And went running straight to her mother with the boo-hoo-everybody's-so-mean-to-me song.
About five minutes later, I get a phone call from the mother-in-law, wanting to know if I'd accused Big V of being a freeloader. I repeated the conversation best as I could, and she goes, “well, there's more than one kind of freeloading, so don't call someone else a freeloader when you're doing it too.” That basically went right over my head, but I didn't have time to process it since she went on, twisting what I'd said. I called her on that, and refused to back down. She finally said, “well, let's just say this is in the past” and we said toodles.
This was when I finally told the wife something I've felt for a long time now: Before God, I wish we didn't live here. I mentioned to her off-hand that the mom-unit said we were freeloading too, and that (to my surprise) was like arming a nuke. I repeated that part of the call, and Wife-o-licious was immediately spoiling for a fight. She's the confrontational one at FAR Manor, her & The Boy at least, and I think she was irritated at herself, sitting on the sidelines while an amateur (me) took the floor before.
We piled into the minivan and drove down to her mom's. Big V was still there, all pitiful and blah-de-blah. Wife totally ignored her, she had a bigger fish to fry. Turns out we haven't paid for the minivan and “my” car. So I think we'll be taking the car back down there & I'll probably cash in some stock to pay for the van. After that, I have no clue: if the wife stops helping in the chicken houses (and I've provided plenty of free electrical and plumbing work there, but mentioning that would have started a big tedious tit-for-tat, so I didn't say anything), it's pretty much over for their farm.
So this would be the ultimate vengeance: sell FAR Manor and move closer to where I work. Their freak-out over the property being up for sale is why we ended up buying it; they wanted that 10 acres “back in the family.” The 10 acres would be gone-zo once again, and we'd have a much-needed distance between us and the in-laws.
Now I'm going to do the church bulletin, then pour myself a generous helping of Barbarossa spiced rum. Wife said she didn't want her family driving me to drink; I said “too late.”
At that point, I had enough of her yelling at them and told her so. She rounds on me with some crap about how I must want them to be freeloaders. Baaaaaaaaaaad move. This female is a professional leech, hasn't paid squat on a house they “paid” to move onto the property, has stuck her parents with co-signed loans, etc.
I probably shouldn't have said anything, but at that point I no longer cared. “I wouldn't be calling anyone else a freeloader if I were you,” I said.
“What's that supposed to mean?” in this self-righteous tone that just about anyone gets when they're called on something like this. I ran through the stuff above, and it was go time. I was informed how they mow the parents' lawn twice a month to pay for the house, and blah blah blah, and then she called The Boy a bastard. Now it's really go time, as the wife shot to her feet and Big V beat a hasty retreat out the door. And went running straight to her mother with the boo-hoo-everybody's-so-mean-to-me song.
About five minutes later, I get a phone call from the mother-in-law, wanting to know if I'd accused Big V of being a freeloader. I repeated the conversation best as I could, and she goes, “well, there's more than one kind of freeloading, so don't call someone else a freeloader when you're doing it too.” That basically went right over my head, but I didn't have time to process it since she went on, twisting what I'd said. I called her on that, and refused to back down. She finally said, “well, let's just say this is in the past” and we said toodles.
This was when I finally told the wife something I've felt for a long time now: Before God, I wish we didn't live here. I mentioned to her off-hand that the mom-unit said we were freeloading too, and that (to my surprise) was like arming a nuke. I repeated that part of the call, and Wife-o-licious was immediately spoiling for a fight. She's the confrontational one at FAR Manor, her & The Boy at least, and I think she was irritated at herself, sitting on the sidelines while an amateur (me) took the floor before.
We piled into the minivan and drove down to her mom's. Big V was still there, all pitiful and blah-de-blah. Wife totally ignored her, she had a bigger fish to fry. Turns out we haven't paid for the minivan and “my” car. So I think we'll be taking the car back down there & I'll probably cash in some stock to pay for the van. After that, I have no clue: if the wife stops helping in the chicken houses (and I've provided plenty of free electrical and plumbing work there, but mentioning that would have started a big tedious tit-for-tat, so I didn't say anything), it's pretty much over for their farm.
So this would be the ultimate vengeance: sell FAR Manor and move closer to where I work. Their freak-out over the property being up for sale is why we ended up buying it; they wanted that 10 acres “back in the family.” The 10 acres would be gone-zo once again, and we'd have a much-needed distance between us and the in-laws.
Now I'm going to do the church bulletin, then pour myself a generous helping of Barbarossa spiced rum. Wife said she didn't want her family driving me to drink; I said “too late.”
Friday, August 26, 2005 No comments
My Haiku Corner is open
Current music: Groove Salad
I guess I could “blame” my online friend White Trash Poet for this. Like WTP, I wrote a lot of poetry when I was younger. Most of it was, you know, the kind of stuff that rhymes — with a little free verse and a fair amount of haiku-style poems.
We were introduced to haiku in 7th grade, in one of our English classes. I took to the form right away and started cranking out stuff. Our teachers didn't say boo about kigo, a keyword or phrase indicating season that is a traditional part of haiku, and so I happily and ignorantly cranked away. A multi-stanza haiku (which could loosely be called a renga, I suppose) I wrote at that time, a typical schoolboy's lament, was published in the student paper.
Some time in high school, I put poetry aside for other kinds of writing and non-writing activities. Since then, I might jot down a spontaneous rhyme, but what little I wrote could be classified as senryu (comic haiku). I think what attracts me to the form is the challenge of expressing a thought in 17 syllables (or less, technically), something I can hold in my head and compose without rushing to find pencil and paper. I read a few on-line discussions about haiku, and found a couple of misconceptions confusing references to weather or nature with kigo — these are often a subset of kigo, but (for example) “rain” can occur in multiple seasons in most places. And yet, that told me that there was something more to haiku than a five-seven-five syllable pattern, and I needed to find out what it was.
Back to today. Reading WTP's blog must have reamed out a couple of channels that had been clogged, because earlier this week the haiku started flowing out. The last two nights, I've had to get out of bed and write down haiku that came to mind before my Muse (capricious b**ch that she is) would let me sleep. Rather than to clutter my diary here with who knows how many haiku and senryu, I decided to open a new blog. Maintaining two blogs ought to be interesting.
I guess I could “blame” my online friend White Trash Poet for this. Like WTP, I wrote a lot of poetry when I was younger. Most of it was, you know, the kind of stuff that rhymes — with a little free verse and a fair amount of haiku-style poems.
We were introduced to haiku in 7th grade, in one of our English classes. I took to the form right away and started cranking out stuff. Our teachers didn't say boo about kigo, a keyword or phrase indicating season that is a traditional part of haiku, and so I happily and ignorantly cranked away. A multi-stanza haiku (which could loosely be called a renga, I suppose) I wrote at that time, a typical schoolboy's lament, was published in the student paper.
Some time in high school, I put poetry aside for other kinds of writing and non-writing activities. Since then, I might jot down a spontaneous rhyme, but what little I wrote could be classified as senryu (comic haiku). I think what attracts me to the form is the challenge of expressing a thought in 17 syllables (or less, technically), something I can hold in my head and compose without rushing to find pencil and paper. I read a few on-line discussions about haiku, and found a couple of misconceptions confusing references to weather or nature with kigo — these are often a subset of kigo, but (for example) “rain” can occur in multiple seasons in most places. And yet, that told me that there was something more to haiku than a five-seven-five syllable pattern, and I needed to find out what it was.
Back to today. Reading WTP's blog must have reamed out a couple of channels that had been clogged, because earlier this week the haiku started flowing out. The last two nights, I've had to get out of bed and write down haiku that came to mind before my Muse (capricious b**ch that she is) would let me sleep. Rather than to clutter my diary here with who knows how many haiku and senryu, I decided to open a new blog. Maintaining two blogs ought to be interesting.
Full house
The Boy came back last night. The half-empty nest has gone back to being a little crowded.
Events precipitating his return were just a little more dramatic than I'd expected. Big V has been checking his grades online, and he's doing OK in all his classes except for one. She got all huffy, made him sit down and do the homework for that class, with her breathing down his neck. Unfortunately, there wasn't that much to do for that class that evening, so he wrapped up before Big V got bored and walked away. She told him he needed to do more, he said that was all there is, so she decided to finish tossing his girlfriend out of the house.
He walked out with the girlfriend, and Big V grabbed him and pulled him back into the house. (How she did that is a question to answer... despite her moniker here, she isn't that big — and he is.) His temper, not the most amiable under normal circumstances, got away from him (again) and he punched a hole in an interior wall.
All this is going down while I'm on my way home from work, held up because I have to make a PDF of a manual before I could leave and this sucker has lots of bitmap graphics (meaning it takes over a half hour to build). After a couple of botched attempts and clearing some old files off the hard drive, I email the PDF to Mr. Anxiety Attack and get on my way. I'm supposed to meet the wife and Daughter Dearest at a local Mexican joint, but the wife was gone before I could get there (without telling anyone what was up, and forgetting to leave $$$ to pay for the chow).
So we had the four of us that make up the core family, plus Lobster, plus The Boy's girlfriend. She stayed with us last night, and probably will again tonight, but she knows she can't stay much longer than that. As big as FAR Manor is, it's kind of crowded for six adult-size people. So between trying to blast a PDF out at the last minute, and all the other stuff that was going on, I got kind of stressed out last night. Wife noticed it, and said, “I don't want you getting sick.”
“I doubt I will,” I said. “If I was going to get sick from stress, it would have been when we bought the house.”
“You did, don't you remember?” said she. “You got the shingles two weeks afterwards.”
Oh. Then she gave me a hard time when I wanted to get some milk to settle myself down and sleep. She probably thought I was going to head for the rum bottle. Nope... that's tonight!
But The Boy seems amenable, at least at the moment, to try counseling. We need to get to the bottom of what it is that's giving him a short fuse on a nuke.
Events precipitating his return were just a little more dramatic than I'd expected. Big V has been checking his grades online, and he's doing OK in all his classes except for one. She got all huffy, made him sit down and do the homework for that class, with her breathing down his neck. Unfortunately, there wasn't that much to do for that class that evening, so he wrapped up before Big V got bored and walked away. She told him he needed to do more, he said that was all there is, so she decided to finish tossing his girlfriend out of the house.
He walked out with the girlfriend, and Big V grabbed him and pulled him back into the house. (How she did that is a question to answer... despite her moniker here, she isn't that big — and he is.) His temper, not the most amiable under normal circumstances, got away from him (again) and he punched a hole in an interior wall.
All this is going down while I'm on my way home from work, held up because I have to make a PDF of a manual before I could leave and this sucker has lots of bitmap graphics (meaning it takes over a half hour to build). After a couple of botched attempts and clearing some old files off the hard drive, I email the PDF to Mr. Anxiety Attack and get on my way. I'm supposed to meet the wife and Daughter Dearest at a local Mexican joint, but the wife was gone before I could get there (without telling anyone what was up, and forgetting to leave $$$ to pay for the chow).
So we had the four of us that make up the core family, plus Lobster, plus The Boy's girlfriend. She stayed with us last night, and probably will again tonight, but she knows she can't stay much longer than that. As big as FAR Manor is, it's kind of crowded for six adult-size people. So between trying to blast a PDF out at the last minute, and all the other stuff that was going on, I got kind of stressed out last night. Wife noticed it, and said, “I don't want you getting sick.”
“I doubt I will,” I said. “If I was going to get sick from stress, it would have been when we bought the house.”
“You did, don't you remember?” said she. “You got the shingles two weeks afterwards.”
Oh. Then she gave me a hard time when I wanted to get some milk to settle myself down and sleep. She probably thought I was going to head for the rum bottle. Nope... that's tonight!
But The Boy seems amenable, at least at the moment, to try counseling. We need to get to the bottom of what it is that's giving him a short fuse on a nuke.
Wednesday, August 24, 2005 No comments
Lobster's back
Something must have really went BOOM with Lobster. He and his dad got into a gen-yoo-wine fight, and Lobster packed up and came back here. I have no clue at the moment what happened, and I don't think I'll be blogging about it when I do find out.
Man. Must be something in the water. All the outrageous stuff going on lately...
Man. Must be something in the water. All the outrageous stuff going on lately...
Outrage #1: Robertson's Fatwa
So now Ayatollah Pat Robertson has apologized for his remarks about having President Hugo Chavez assassinated. Good. He really should get up on TV and do a Jimmy Swaggart “I have sinned” routine, but we all know that ain't gonna happen.
The Bush administration passed up an opportunity to prove that we've not become Iran with a cross instead of a crescent, opting to mumble something about “private citizen” instead. Yeah. I could buy that if it were just some backwoods Talibaptist blathering to his little congregation. But this “private citizen” happens to have a major TV network and the ear of the entire White House and about half of Congress, any time he wants it. At some point you cease to be a private citizen, elected or not.
An attempt to pretend he didn't mean “assassinate” apparently didn't work. I have a feeling he was getting calls and emails from people saying “take me off your lists” and had to backpedal a little farther to salvage his empire.
Thanks, Pat, for making all Christians look bad. On the other hand, you may have jumped the shark here, like Oral Roberts with his “send me money or God will kill me” shtick and the whole Jim Bakker/Jimmy Swaggart thing, and this is the beginning of your long slide into obscurity. This Christian certainly hopes so. “Sell all you have, give it to the poor, take up your cross, and follow Me,” is what the Son of God told the rich man. Think about it, Pat.
The Bush administration passed up an opportunity to prove that we've not become Iran with a cross instead of a crescent, opting to mumble something about “private citizen” instead. Yeah. I could buy that if it were just some backwoods Talibaptist blathering to his little congregation. But this “private citizen” happens to have a major TV network and the ear of the entire White House and about half of Congress, any time he wants it. At some point you cease to be a private citizen, elected or not.
An attempt to pretend he didn't mean “assassinate” apparently didn't work. I have a feeling he was getting calls and emails from people saying “take me off your lists” and had to backpedal a little farther to salvage his empire.
Thanks, Pat, for making all Christians look bad. On the other hand, you may have jumped the shark here, like Oral Roberts with his “send me money or God will kill me” shtick and the whole Jim Bakker/Jimmy Swaggart thing, and this is the beginning of your long slide into obscurity. This Christian certainly hopes so. “Sell all you have, give it to the poor, take up your cross, and follow Me,” is what the Son of God told the rich man. Think about it, Pat.
Outrage #2: Utah Rave
Current Music: DJ Lithium
You kann haff zee paperz, und zee paperz kann be in ordaire, und ve vill bust you anyvay. Ja wohl!
OK, if you suspect that someone in a crowd of 2,000 people is doing drugs (and in a crowd that size, you can bet on it), you bust those people. It doesn't warrant shutting down an entire concert. I'll bet you could go to any twanger concert and you'll find some attendees lighting up — but somehow the Gestapo doesn't see fit to point guns at people, kick women, and spray tear gas indiscriminately at a Travis Tritt concert. Oh yeah, kickers tend to be armed; they might shoot back.
Well, have a look at my “Current Music” links down through my earlier posts. Spray me with tear gas and call me a criminal: this mid-40s white churchgoing male likes electronic music, and has since Kraftwerk released Autobahn in 1975. I like the trippy ambient stuff, I like the hard-thumpin' dance numbers, and 'most everything in between. Next rave within driving distance of FAR Manor, I'm going just to make a statement.
At least there's still some vestige of the America that used to be, the one where people had freedom to peaceably assemble; the thugs were sufficiently embarrassed to try confiscating video cameras that caught them in the act. Fortunately, some of the video escaped. I'm generally an easy-going, forgiving type of person... but I hope the people in charge of this raid end up with new careers outside of law enforcement: poultry plant workers or garbage sorters would be too good for them. Making license plates, now there's a suitable job for 'em.
You kann haff zee paperz, und zee paperz kann be in ordaire, und ve vill bust you anyvay. Ja wohl!
OK, if you suspect that someone in a crowd of 2,000 people is doing drugs (and in a crowd that size, you can bet on it), you bust those people. It doesn't warrant shutting down an entire concert. I'll bet you could go to any twanger concert and you'll find some attendees lighting up — but somehow the Gestapo doesn't see fit to point guns at people, kick women, and spray tear gas indiscriminately at a Travis Tritt concert. Oh yeah, kickers tend to be armed; they might shoot back.
Well, have a look at my “Current Music” links down through my earlier posts. Spray me with tear gas and call me a criminal: this mid-40s white churchgoing male likes electronic music, and has since Kraftwerk released Autobahn in 1975. I like the trippy ambient stuff, I like the hard-thumpin' dance numbers, and 'most everything in between. Next rave within driving distance of FAR Manor, I'm going just to make a statement.
At least there's still some vestige of the America that used to be, the one where people had freedom to peaceably assemble; the thugs were sufficiently embarrassed to try confiscating video cameras that caught them in the act. Fortunately, some of the video escaped. I'm generally an easy-going, forgiving type of person... but I hope the people in charge of this raid end up with new careers outside of law enforcement: poultry plant workers or garbage sorters would be too good for them. Making license plates, now there's a suitable job for 'em.
Monday, August 22, 2005 No comments
A Boy and his computer
Current Music: BeatBlender
After a rather unpleasant episode Friday, The Boy and his aunt (whom we shall call “Big V” here on the blog) sort of patched things up between them. They have made a pact to help each other track their glucose levels (she's Type II, he's Type I), and today he had his act sufficiently together that he was pretty civil for a change (I've noticed he really gets whacked out when his glucose goes about 220 or so). So Friday, he was probably riding a serious sugar jag; he wrote this rambling letter about how much he hates us for trying to separate him & his girlfriend (we aren't trying, but would be overjoyed if it happened) and made a not-so-veiled threat to kill himself if he succeeded. That was enough to get me to call the local mental health agency and talk to a counselor there. We agreed that he needed to get in there, although there just wasn't any way to force him to go.
So today, he asked me to call him. Turns out he wanted to use the iMac that was still in his old bedroom to write papers and so forth. I didn't have any problem with that — when you need a computer you need a computer — so I tossed it and a smallish desk in the van and drove it down to Big V's place.
The interesting part was when I asked him what his paper was about. “Psychology,” he said. “I have to interview a psychologist.” Welllll, I was right there with a name and contact info on that one. On the way out, Big V stopped me and told me she was booting the girlfriend tomorrow because she was giving The Boy cigarettes. Perhaps our prayers are being answered!
After a rather unpleasant episode Friday, The Boy and his aunt (whom we shall call “Big V” here on the blog) sort of patched things up between them. They have made a pact to help each other track their glucose levels (she's Type II, he's Type I), and today he had his act sufficiently together that he was pretty civil for a change (I've noticed he really gets whacked out when his glucose goes about 220 or so). So Friday, he was probably riding a serious sugar jag; he wrote this rambling letter about how much he hates us for trying to separate him & his girlfriend (we aren't trying, but would be overjoyed if it happened) and made a not-so-veiled threat to kill himself if he succeeded. That was enough to get me to call the local mental health agency and talk to a counselor there. We agreed that he needed to get in there, although there just wasn't any way to force him to go.
So today, he asked me to call him. Turns out he wanted to use the iMac that was still in his old bedroom to write papers and so forth. I didn't have any problem with that — when you need a computer you need a computer — so I tossed it and a smallish desk in the van and drove it down to Big V's place.
The interesting part was when I asked him what his paper was about. “Psychology,” he said. “I have to interview a psychologist.” Welllll, I was right there with a name and contact info on that one. On the way out, Big V stopped me and told me she was booting the girlfriend tomorrow because she was giving The Boy cigarettes. Perhaps our prayers are being answered!
Saturday, August 20, 2005 3 comments
Sports vs. arts
Current music: Aura - Orbit Revival
Daughter Dearest had a pool party today, put on by her chorus teacher. Parents were invited too, so I got a little more sun than I should have without slobbering on sunscreen (another symptom of oncoming age; I used to never burn). She's in the Honors Chorus after a brief & successful audition.
As Arlo Guthrie said, “I told you that to tell you this.” I only find out after she starts school that last year, this chorus won a nationwide tournament in their division last year. Sheesh. If it had been any kind of sport, all the way down to middle school badminton, there would have been billboards at every road on the county line. If it's art, it gets in the papers and the school puts it up on their sign, but where's the community pride? Where are the billboards? Even a little sign as you enter the county?
Then we wonder why nobody seems to think funding the arts is any big deal.
Daughter Dearest had a pool party today, put on by her chorus teacher. Parents were invited too, so I got a little more sun than I should have without slobbering on sunscreen (another symptom of oncoming age; I used to never burn). She's in the Honors Chorus after a brief & successful audition.
As Arlo Guthrie said, “I told you that to tell you this.” I only find out after she starts school that last year, this chorus won a nationwide tournament in their division last year. Sheesh. If it had been any kind of sport, all the way down to middle school badminton, there would have been billboards at every road on the county line. If it's art, it gets in the papers and the school puts it up on their sign, but where's the community pride? Where are the billboards? Even a little sign as you enter the county?
Then we wonder why nobody seems to think funding the arts is any big deal.
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