Friday, March 30, 2007
Google FTW!
Earlier this week I wiped my new sexy thing clean and reinstalled everything, from the OS up. Just an annual clean-up, plus I had some nagging problems that I wanted to try to fix.I didn't want to reinstall everything - I only wanted to have what I needed. In a year I collect a bunch of stuff that I use once or twice, then forget about. Plus, I have two programs that aren't "universal" programs (able to run natively on Intel) - Quicken and Excel. Both of them are used to keep track of my finances. Both of them require Rosetta to run on my new sexy thing, which slows it down.
I didn't really feel like putting MS Office v.X back on, just to open spreadsheets. I'd tried Google Docs in the past but my spreadsheet was too complicated and Google Docs didn't support it at the time.
Looks like Google has made some improvements, because I just tried again and it opens the file just fine!
Google for the win! Buh-bye, Microsoft Office.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
IASBT, part two of many
Moments that put everything else into perspective:Spending lunch with two good friends, laughing so hard that we couldn't breathe, couldn't talk, and certainly couldn't finish the conversation that prompted all the laughter.
Part of what made it all so funny was the fact that we were in a public cafeteria in a public building, surrounded by both folks we worked with (and should probably maintain some kind of professional manner around) and the general public, whose view of county employees would be shaped by our actions.
And another part of what made it all so funny was the topic which prompted the laughter, a topic that, in itself, is among the first things to provoke laughter in humans, and remains funny right up until our final days.
I wish I could do justice to that moment.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
I need a body spray
I feel so dirty posting a commercial on my blog.But... who's the freakin' hottie in this commercial?
Questionable Bumper Sticker
I'm not sure that this meant:"Blue State Voter,???
Red State of Mind"
There were a bunch of other bumper stickers on the car but I went by too fast to read them all - presumably they would have given me context to understand this one.
Post your ideas in the comments.
Friday, March 23, 2007
"If we don't die, then we win."
My favorite scene from "Lost" this season.Good advice, even if you're not trying to rebuild an ancient hippie bus while you're trapped on a South Pacific island and mourning the death of your lover.
That speech contains so many nuggets of good advice... It's not a coincidence that the creators of "Lost" appear to be such fans of philosophy, as shown by the fact that many characters on the show are named after famous philosophers.
Just for today pt. 2
Forgot to add this, in sufficiently vague language that only a few will "get" it:Just for today, I'm going to examine all my options, decide what I really want, and commit myself to a plan to get it - for a specific value of "it".
Just for today
In the spirit of my previous post, I am pleased to announce to the world of the intertubes that I have taken today and Monday off from work. For no particular reason, other than it's spring, and I have a 10K on Sunday, and work has been pretty stressful lately.Today I plan on goofing off a lot. I'm right now sitting in a coffee shop, people-watching. I also plan on going for a walk, and quite possibly watching a movie. I will probably play games, and I might... might, mind you... climb a tree or fly a kite.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Keeping NGOD alive in our hearts
Some peoples' reactions to holidays that are supposed to celebrate pleasurable or positive behavior, like Christmas or Valentine's Day, is to say "that's how you should act all the time, not just on that one day out of the year."That's so true, even for me.
That's why I work extra hard to keep National Goof Off Day alive in my heart all year 'round, not just every March 22nd.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
IASBT, part one of many
Tracy: Whatever, emu-boy.Me (laughing): What?
Tracy: ...Isn't that the word?
Me: I'm a flightless bird, now?
Tracy: Whatever.
Me (still laughing): I think you meant Emo-boy!
Tracy: Yes. That.
Me: I am so blogging this!
Monday, March 19, 2007
Quick Movie Reviews
I rented and watched two movies yesterday, and can give one-sentence reviews of them."Stranger Than Fiction" 2006 (Will Ferrell, Maggie Gyllenyllenyllenyllenhaal) - There's so much more to this story than the previews suggest. 4 out of 5 stars.
"Tenacious D in The Pick of Destiny" 2006 (Jack Black, Kyle Gass) - This was exactly - exactly! - as I imagined it would be, only with more pot humor. 3.5 out of 5 stars.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Meta - Site Feed
Apparently moving to the new Blogger broke my Atom site feed - or at least the auto-discovery portion of it. Whatever, man. The site feed is fixed now. Find it here.Oh, if there are any more problems either contact me or leave a comment below.
The Only Thing We Have To Fear
Adrift? "War" supporters feel... adrift? Lost?The Oregonian devoted front-page, above-the-fold coverage to the minority viewpoint of Oregonians who support the Iraqi occupation.
Link to a locally-archived .PDF of page one and page two, as they appeared on the Oregonian's useless, only-good-for-14-days website.
I read the article with an open mind, hoping that these minority voices, through the reporter, would inform me of their reasons for continuing to support a failed policy that has diminished America's moral standing in the world and has endangered all of us.
The first revelation was not a positive one of support, but rather the stark admission from Elfrieda Plumondore, whose son was killed in the post-war occupation in the midst of the Iraqi Civil War we've caused, that those who disagree with her are, in fact, stupid.
Nice.
Reading further, I find that another occupation supporter feels that having our troops continue to occupy Iraq prevents the spread of terrorism throughout the Middle East. And I also learn of the viewpoint that leaving Iraq will mean that our soldiers will have died for no reason.
My first reading of this article, in fact, seemed to show no valid argument for continued occupation of Iraq. "War" supporters (the war has been over for several years, people) have abandoned the pretenses the Cheney Administration used to mislead America into this folly, like removal of the threat of "mushroom clouds" or "weapons of mass destruction", or the lies of ties between mortal enemies like fundamentalist Osama bin Laden and secularist Saddam Hussein. No, pretty much the only reasons left to support having our troops spread thin, given no armor or weapons to fight, and being treated like garbage when they return home, wounded, is...
...fear.
On reflection, I thank the Oregonian for so brilliantly illuminating the mindset of the vanishing species known as the Bush- or war-supporter. They appear so frightened, so beaten and cowardly, so weak, because they are frightened, beaten, cowardly, and weak. They would rather have our sons and daughters dead or dying on some far-away battlefield, or bleeding out their life's blood in rat-infested hospitals out of sight of the lenses of the Nightly News, in the forlorn hope of simply living another day.
I didn't understand them before. I couldn't fathom their continued support. But now, the choice of words by the Oregonian have spelled it out for me.
"War" supporters WANT to feel adrift. They give their whole-hearted support to the thugs and criminals in our nation's capital so that they can feast on fear and isolation. They're pissing their pants under their beds. They embody the goal of "the terrorists" by embodying terror.
I couldn't be more proud to be part of the majority of Americans who have embraced courage and engagement with the world. Now we must force the Cheney Administration to take action. We want our sons and daughters back. We want the moral standing of our country back. We've managed to take it back from the cowardly fellow countrymen; next we will take it back from the national media, and then our leaders.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Dept. of "I'm So Blogging This"
She's normally polite, friendly, and sweet. Nice. If she's funny, it's in a pleasant, non-confrontational way.So after some normal barista-customer banter with a regular customer that was still trying to decide on her breakfast, to hear the nice barista say, with an unfamiliar edge in her voice, "I don't have all day here, you know?"
...it caused silence in the entire coffee shop, a silence that stretched until the barista broke it by saying, sheepishly, "I... I was just kidding. You know?"
The customer laughed nervously. "Yes. I knew it!"
Without context, part one of many
Me: "Oh, was that too snarky for you?"Her: "Snarky? Snarky?" Her lip curled around the word.
Me: "Yes, snarky."
She gave me a blank look.
Me: "You don't know what that means, do you?"
Her: "I know what it means! What, do I have to use it in a sentence now?"
The Past Twenty-Five Minutes
Twenty-five minutes ago I sat at the lower, fourth stage at the Acropolis, laughing and watching S. get dressed again (tiny little white sweater that barely covered anything, tiny white elastic thong under a tiny micro-mini-mini-micro skirt, tiny 8" platform shoes) as she wadded all the dollars she'd collected over four songs into a big ball the size of my ambitions.I set aside my drink, which I'd been nursing since Tonic had used the ice from it to both cool herself off and tease me during a private dance, after which I'd realized that I didn't really know where her fingers had been, but I'd shrugged it off by thinking, "Oh, well, that's what an immune system is for."
I stood up and said to S., sadly, "I've gotta go."
"You're going?" she pouted. She pointed back towards the private dance area. "Go?" She pouted some more.
I turned to walk away and turned back. She mocked drying her eyes with her as-yet unworn skirt.
"OK, what the hell, one more for the road." She hugged me and I followed her ass through the crowd to the private area.
Five minutes later, I tucked my next-to-last twenty into her stocking, both of us smiling. She leaned in close, eyes narrowing. "You smoke weed, right?" My face tightened into what I hoped wasn't a patronizing smile and I shook my head. I tried to convey the idea that I was totally OK with other people's habits but that I didn't indulge. I probably came across in the same way that asshole Republicans talk about all their "black friends", though.
She shook her head. "You don't?" She looked down and continued getting dressed. A small smile came back to her face. "I think you'd be funny to get stoned with."
Dammit, I'm funny all the time. I don't need pot to be funny! One tiny lizard part of my brain was waking up and thinking that maybe that she was making an offer and I'd just blown it. I do that; it's what I do.
I hugged her again, and shuffled out into the night for the 10-block walk home. It was just midnight, and it was a bit chilly but not bone-chilling cold. The stars were up there shining like they do sometimes. I shivered a bit and shuffled in the vague direction of Foster's Market. I wasn't sure how late they stayed open, since I'm hardly ever up this late, but if they were open, I thought I'd buy some munchies. I don't even need pot to have the munchies, apparently.
From two blocks away I saw a woman who looked a little worse for wear hanging on the pay phone, and a muscular dude walk up, test the door, and walk inside. Dave was in there working. He was always in there. By the time I'd travelled the two blocks, Dave was chatting with the guy who was now on his way out with a forty of malt liquor in a paper bag.
"You're open?" I asked. Dave nodded and then continued joking with the departing customer without missing a beat.
I bought a small bag of dark chocolate M&Ms and a bear claw. Standing in line behind another dude on a beer run, impulsively asking about a lottery ticket after seeing that the jackpot was up to $182 million. Dave shook his head. "Sorry, I just closed that machine out."
"Oh, well, there's always tomorrow," the dude said, hopefully.
"Right," I said, "it's tomorrow. Happy Saint Patrick's Day."
Dude laughed and left the store. The woman using the pay phone stuck her head in the door and thanked Dave, left again. My total came to a buck forty-nine. I peeled off two dollars from the wad of left-overs.
Dave said, "of course, lots of days when I should be wearing green, I don't. My ancestors were the sworn enemies of the Irish."
"Oh? Isn't that when you're supposed to wear orange, instead?"
"Oh, no, the orange and the green represent the Protestants and the Catholics. I'm talking about countries, not religions. My ancestors swore allegiance to QE2." I pocketed my change, picked up my bag and started shuffling towards the door. I stopped. For some reason, tonight, I wanted to keep talking to Dave. I wanted to validate his often-random ramblings. He was an older guy, a guy who had seen a lot of wear and tear, gray in places, bright ruddy red in others, his eyes swimming behind the strongest prescription glasses I'd ever seen, lenses almost thicker than they were wide.
But tonight, Dave had run out of things to say. His voice trailed off, saying, mumbling, "...but that won't buy a cup of hot coffee in the States." A long pause, and I smiled and chuckled, and then walked out the door, thinking he was done.
As I was one step out the door, I could hear Dave starting up again. "She bought about a ba-jillion quarters from me for the pay phone." I was already beyond the door and it cut him off as it closed.
Back into the night. Two more blocks to home.
I passed the Thai place, closed up. There was a light on at the coffee shop, even though the door was locked up and the sidewalk sign had been put away. I saw J. bustling around behind the counter in the back of the shop, counting out the money. I liked her for her quirky cuteness; shorter than me, black pageboy-cut hair, a bit of a wandering left eye and a lisp, but funny, and honest, and open. I paused and watched her work for a moment. I tore open my bag of M&Ms and dumped some into my mouth. I considered tapping on the glass.
She still hadn't looked up. Sometimes if you stare at someone long enough, they will look up, as if responding to the pressure of your stare. J. hadn't responded yet. I thought of offering to share my bear claw and candy with her. I envisioned her letting me come in while she counted out the day's take, and I had a brief fantasy of kissing her, once.
I turned and walked the block and a half to home.
Walked past the new strip-mall storefronts right next to my apartment building, still empty, almost finished and ready for occupancy. I crunched through the gravel where the new sidewalk was going to go, where I wasn't supposed to be walking. Since I was done with the candy I tossed the bag in the direction of my buildings' garbage can.
I thought of my neighborhood. I thought of the lady and Old Barfy next door, telling me how much they liked my cat, Smacky. I thought of my secret thoughts of J., and of the random loneliness of Dave, and of S. being embarrassed by wanting to get high with me.
I see myself as a loner, a grump, a drunk. A secretive geek with a cranky cat, with a few close friends but mostly spending my time alone. And yet, I had all these connections to people in my neighborhood, people who, apparently, seemed to like me. At that moment, as I took the last few steps up to my front door, the rest of the building lights out...
...what do they see in me? Are we all alone, and all just reaching out for whatever human contact we can get, thankful for anyone who will stop and listen?
Shit... what if everyone else feels the exact same way I do?
How scary is that?
And then I came inside, nibbled on my bear claw, and wrote this post. Hello, out there.
Happy Saint Patrick's Day.
Labels: stripclub
Friday, March 16, 2007
Tomorrow is my horizon
While I was home from work yesterday I watched "The Office" newpeat. Apparently the folks at NBC edited two previously-viewed half-hour episode together, and added some scenes, to make an hour-long newpeat, and Marketing gave it a cutesy name. Whatever, man. It was funny.Of course, I'm just being over-explain-y. I simply wanted to share this Dwight quote from the episode:
"There’s nothing on my horizon except everything. Everything is on my horizon."I have a totally platonic man-crush on Dwight.
Although I'm sure actually working in an office with him would be horrible.
Tales from the underworld
Months ago, when I was in denial about how much money I was throwing away on whiskey and women at the Acropolis, three of my favorite dancers all quit drinking. A, a goth-y girl with amazing black tribal tats, and some special white-ink ones that glowed angry red under black lights, might have never drank. I never saw her drinking booze at work. So I'm not sure if I should say she "quit"... but I made note of it.Then one night I went in on a Friday night for a drink or several, and Tonic, a tiny girl who could easily drink twice her weight in booze, was dancing. At the end of her set I offered to buy her a shot of something, and she thanked me but said she'd quit. "I remember one night, you said to me that you'd never seen me not be hung-over or drunk, even at the beginning of my shift. Do you remember that?" she asked me?
Duh. Yeah, I remembered. Apparently she'd decided, shortly after that night, that she should maybe not do that so much. Or at all. I smiled, and wished her good luck, and felt vaguely proud, but also felt a bit... guilty? Not sure... but I stopped after only three drinks and went home, hours later, mostly sober and feeling let down, somehow.
Then another weekend night, and I saw S, still hands down my favorite. Funny, sexy, and she could drink me under the table. Only this night she looked different. My first thought was that she was pregnant, but I'm smart enough that I don't ever bring that up with a woman unless I see the baby's head crowning. I just told her she looked amazing... almost glowing.
"Thanks, baby," she said. "I've given up drinking!"
"Wow! What's the lucky dude's name?" I asked. She laughed and shook her head, and before she could correct me, I broke in with "...or HER name, and I'm totally OK with that. As long as I get to watch."
She laughed harder, but insisted that she wasn't seeing anyone. "I just was always feeling run-down, and I realized how often I was drinking, and smoking, and spending time around other drinkers and smokers, and decided to try to eat healthier and take care of myself." Of course, she said this standing in one of the dive-iest dives in Portland, a building soaked in booze, smoke, sweat and other substances. But, hey, more power to her. She was still sexy and funny, even if she wasn't drunk.
But, again, I felt a subtle form of peer pressure to not drink so much around these girls. When I found out another dancer didn't drink on the job, I wondered if there was a worker's protest going on against the owner. Or maybe they'd peer-pressured each other into it. Who knows?
Another couple of cold winter months, and I stopped going in so often. And one night I did, and I saw Tonic, and she was, once again, sloppy, falling-over, drunk. Ah, back to normal. When she saw me, she smiled, but it was a tight smile, an embarassed smile, and then she avoided me for the rest of the night. I wasn't going to judge; I come from a long line of drunks, a member of which tribe I proudly belong - but she didn't know that. Or maybe she did and she didn't want to associate.
I'd still drop by every couple of weeks, but I lost the knack of knowing when my favorites were dancing, and I didn't connect with any new favorites, and then I started saving my money again. A couple of weeks ago, though, I stopped by, as the early shift was finishing up. I stayed for an hour, just to see who was dancing the late shift, and A, the original non-drinker, walked in. And this time, I could tell. She had a little pooch to her belly, down low, and she looked a little... puffier. My first thought was that she was pregnant. But I still didn't say anything.
I stood at the rack where she was dancing and finishing up her first shift, and I dropped four dollars down. "Sorry I'm late, I just saw ya" I said. "How are you?"
She smiled. "I'm great. How are you?"
"Doin' good. I'm just on my way out, actually, but I wanted to say hi." She hugged me across the bar, pouted that I was leaving, and didn't mention her personal life. Her prerogative. Less than a week later, on her MySpace page, she announced that she was taking break for a few months, but that she'd be back. A friend dared me to say something, and finally I posted:
"We'll miss you! And... congratulations?"
When that post didn't show up right away I figured she'd deleted or hidden it. But a few days later it came through. I couldn't tell, still, from other folks comments if anyone else was publicly acknowledging her bein' in a family way. Maybe when she returns I can help contribute to her kids' college education, one dollar at a time... Whoever said that we are the box of broken toys has it right. We're all trying, and failing, to quit something. I went back tonight, and, sure enough, Tonic was there, and so was S, and they both were drinking, and so was I. I laughed, and drank, and enjoyed myself, and hopefully so did they.
...winners never quit.
Labels: stripclub
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Pi
Ladies and gentlemen, on today, the 14th day of March (3/14), I give you pi, to one million places.Brought to you by the domain that is pi.com, in numbers.
Mmmm... pi.
Site note
Because of a request by the commenter, I have hidden (but not deleted) the comments on my previous post Mystery of Multnomah Managers.It's a troubling situation for me, as far as the ethics go. But since I have no way to prevent folks from deleting their own comments as long as I keep using Blogger, then I didn't see much choice.
Just to re-iterate, my published policy (last bullet) on comments is that I delete or mock anonymous comments, at my discretion. Until today, I didn't have a posted policy about non-anonymous comments, but here it is:
If you're going to comment, stand behind what you write and be prepared for it to be publicly available. To, y'know, everyone and anyone who wants to see it.
That is also the reason behind my dislike of anonymous comments; if you're going to say something remember that you own your own words, now and forever.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Damned Congress
I guess I'd have to move to California's 13th District to have a congressman who represents my lack of god-belief.Saturday, March 10, 2007
Spartans vs. Persia
Saw "300" tonight. Non-spoiler review: awesome visual design, somewhat cheesy script and dialogue, musical choices were all over the map (and I hate when I notice the use of music; it should flow right along with the story). T'was gory, and suffered from the "indistinct English accent" problem of most historical movies, which might have caused me to notice the cheese more.Can one spoil a movie based on historical events (though exaggerated to a fantastic level)?
Just in case (after decades of movement conservatives conspiring with radical clerics, I have no trust in our public education), I'll put my summation of the movie in spoiler-text. Highlight the next paragraph to read it.
It is better to live as a free man, than it is to die a slave. Still, reinforcements would've been nice, too.
Mystery of Multnomah Managers
I'm definitely not a reflexive defender of Multnomah county management, but there's something I'd like to add to the Trib's story story about the Parole and Probation manager who was fired for stealing pot.I work for the county, in IT. My job is making sure the county employees have working computers. For almost my entire time at the county (since 1999) the bulk of the users I support have been Community Justice users; parole and probation officers, corrections technicians, juvenile counsellors and the support staff for those folk.
Now, keeping computers running Windows working requires a certain attention to keeping the computer, well, clean. Don't install a bunch of "free" software, don't surf to shady websites, don't use your email address all over the place or you'll get spam, spyware and viruses. So a large part of my job is simple clean-up, and, in extreme cases, wiping the whole thing clean and restoring the computer to its original state (saving any work the user had on the local PC and not on the network, of course).
And among my peers in Desktop Support, some users (or groups of users) are infamous for not keeping their computers clean. If these users call the Helpdesk with a problem, the first thing we're gonna do is start uninstalling crap spyware, cleaning out their browsers' caches, and running our clean-up programs. And most of the time it does the trick.
The reason I'm bringing this up is because Shadman Afzal, the fired manager, was the opposite of those kinds of users. He very much kept his computer clean, he didn't appear to use it for personal surfing or games. When he called the Helpdesk, if he called at all, it was for routine stuff - his printer wasn't printing (damn printers - I hate 'em) or he needed a PDA installed, or wanted some help with Word, or needed another computer installed for his staff.
Shadman's reputation amongst the staff was one of being very much "by-the-book". He followed the rules. He didn't blur or cross the lines. That's how I saw him.
And, just as Karin Lamberton is quoted in the Trib's story:
“We are just trying to keep in mind that this is a long-term employee who did something very out of character, in addition to some serious medical issues going on at the same time.”...I think that perception of Shadman was widespread, and it was assumed - at least, I assumed it - that that strict behavior was reflective of his character.
Among the managers I've had to deal with, Shadman was among the most personable, self-effacing, warmest. A lot of DCJ managers are, well, hard-asses; uptight, authoritarian, self-important. Shadman never struck me that way.
While the reasons for Shadman's "firing" come as a surprise to me, from the perspective of learning that he did, indeed, appear to break the rules for once, they also fit with my conception of him as a friendly, social person. And though I am not and have never been a pot-smoker, I do not hold those who do in any kind of contempt. Although it does seem hypocritical, or just paradoxical, for someone who is tasked with enforcing the laws for others, to not follow the laws themselves. While I believe it to be just to break an immoral law, there's a different standard for those who have chosen a career in law enforcement.
What can I say? I'm complicated.
So this whole story is a mystery to me; a man I (and others) see as being highly lawful in his behavior, is discovered to have broken several laws in pursuit (apparently) of fellowship with his staff. He lost his job because he admitted to breaking the chain of evidence to have some unknown quantity of pot for a party at his house with employees. Taking my personal impression of Shadman out of it, that's wrong on so many levels.
What shocks me most about this story is that management has actually taken some action against Shadman. They actually asked him to resign over this. Believe me, the impression I have of county management is that they protect their own; just look at the way they protected Jann Brown even after a "guilty" verdict was handed down by a jury, and upheld by a Federal judge. Or the strange case of Dr. Peter Davidson, or other cases (I can't find the link to the woman who worked in the Health Department and started a lawsuit for wrongful termination after she discovered that management was cooking the budget - it was around the same time, or shortly after, Lea's verdict, I believe).
Going back to the case I know about, Jann Brown is still employed at the county, after she, and county management, were found to have wrongfully terminated an employee who was trying to blow the whistle on more corruption. Jann Brown also admitted to an "intimate relationship" with a subordinate, in court - another breach of the county's code of conduct. But since she's management, the others protected her.
...so why did they run Shadman out? Admittedly, they did it in such a way that he may still collect disability pay, and unemployment, and get his pension, so they were far gentler on him than they would be on non-management - but, still... add in the out-of-character nature of the claims against Shadman and it adds up to a mystery, to me.
I am a runner
This weekend I will be running in my fourth Shamrock Run 5K. Looking back at the first one, back in 2004... I had fun, I finished in 35:04, and I weighed just a pound or two less than I do right now. Who was I? Who am I now?Sunday, I'll be running with different friends than previously, and I'm a much better runner than I was. Though still not Olympic-caliber, as I like to say. I'm in better shape, I eat better (most of the time), and I can run longer distances.
In fact, I'm going to treat this race as just another training run. The race I'm more concerned about is the Bridge to Bridge 10K in two more weeks. I've run the Bridge to Bridge 5K once or twice, but have always wanted to do the longer race because it's the only foot race that goes over the Fremont Bridge. That's a challenge. It's especially a challenge because I haven't done any hillwork in months. I'm going to have to work some in over the next two weeks...
Mainly, though, I'm going to use the B2B to see how well I can run 10K, and use it as a guide to help me prepare for a 10K later this year. I want to hit personal bests in both 5K and 10K this season. A PB in the 5K would be faster than 28:06, which I did just last year. But I have yet to break under an hour in the 10K, which is my goal. I'm sure I can do it, and maybe even do it by a significant amount - but I need to train for it.
Friday, March 09, 2007
Hate replacement
I'm not sure I see the point in getting rid of Ann Coulter and replacing her with the equally hateful Michelle "Concentration camps were FUN!" Malkin. Ugh. (No, seriously, click the link. She really did write a book defending internment camps.)Side note: The way I'm slamming out the posts, I'm practically Atrios today.
Where I was
I just got back from... well, let's just say that it's the first time this atheist has been in a church for a long time. My sincere condolences to my best friend, Tracy and her family, for the unexpected loss of her father.On reflection, I just want to state for the record a couple of things.
First, when I go (assuming I don't live forever, as planned) I don't want a fancy funeral. I want all my friends and family and anyone who wants to show up to all get together, and get roaring drunk, and sing and dance and laugh, and talk about all the good things I did and all the bad things (as in, "Wow, that was so funny when he screwed up like that!") and just generally have a good time. I believe that's called a wake.
Second, for the record, if there's any gray area, and y'all aren't sure if I'd have full use of my faculties, just turn off the machine. It's OK with me. After all, my body is all I am and all I have.
Oh, hell. I can't talk about this now. Just go read what I wrote the last time I had to think about death.
More about money
The fact that when they calculate your FICO score they don't give a rat's ass about your income is the most revealing thing I've learned today.Slow thinker
It's taken me 15,411 days to completely understand that the best way to thrive in a capitalist society is to accumulate capital.I know, I know... duh.
Link farm
Been collecting all these links. Figured it's time to post them before they go stale.- Putting super-accurate cesium clocks in your camping van to demonstrate to your kids how time is affected by gravity... OK. What, no flux capacitor?
- If Apple Stores are so great, why am I not in one right now? Apparently, they're so great because Apple built prototypes of the stores to try out, before building actual stores. So awesome.
- Another way the Cheney Administration can tell America "Go fuck yourself" - ignoring this little rule when handling convicted felon "Scooter" Libby.
- Wikipedia pre-historic political maps of the world: 2000 BCE, 1000 BCE, 500 BCE, 323 BCE. "BCE" stands for "Before common era", by the way, since, y'know, if you think to measure based on the birth of Jesus, Christ was actually born anywhere from 8 to 2 years BCE.
- I love rants. I love ranting. About everything. But there's one thing you just can't rant about: you can't rant about other people not shutting up. It's just stupid.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
The Wisdom of "Scrubs"
"Scrubs" has somehow become the most-re-ran (re-runned?) show. I was going to say the most re-ran show ever but that honor still belongs to "Seinfeld" by virtue of it having more seasons.At any rate, every night I can watch J.D., Turk, Carla, Elliot, and all the others, being funny and then reaching an honest, human emotional moment at the end. I do that a lot now.
Example of a "funny because it's true" line from one of last night's re-runs:
"When you're mad at someone, you tend to talk to everyone else but that person." - J.D.'s narration.See? Funny, but so true.
So, don't do that. And don't spend a lot of time being mad at someone you love and care about. Honestly, ignoring someone is much more effective at irritating them, and you reap the benefit of not spending a lot of mental energy on them. It's a lose-win (they lose, you win) which is the bestest.
NOTE: I am explicitly stating that this post is not directed at Tracy or anyone else. It's just a snarky comment that came to mind. Honest. If anyone thinks I'm ignoring them on purpose, they're probably wrong.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Beats per minute
According to the American Heart Association, ones resting heart rate is best measured first thing in the morning, and varies from 60-80 beats per minute (bpm). It is lower in those who are athletic, and rises with age.But that above-linked page doesn't give any indication of how much it lowers with fitness level, nor does it say how much it rises with age.
I've been interested lately in my own heart rate, because I think that keeping track of my heart rate during a run can be helpful in structuring my training. Also because I think it would be really cool to have a nifty new gadget like a heart rate monitor. Hey, at least I'm honest - I like gadgets.
So this morning, I kept my watch next to my bed, and first thing after my alarm went off, I grabbed my watch and timed my heart rate. It took me a bit to find my pulse. After the first measurement (12 beats in 15 seconds, which means 48 bpm), I was stunned. That just seemed too low. Did I mis-count? I tried it several times after that, and the numbers came in between 12-14 beats per 15 second period.
Whoa. That means my resting heart rate is anywhere from 48-56 bpm. That seems low for a 42-year old formerly-chubby guy.
Complain, connect, configure
I've been having problems with my home network. Ugh.It's a fairly simple set up: Comcast broadband cable, connected to an AT&T cable modem, piping in whatever speeds Comcast offers.
From there it goes (normally) to a D-Link WiFi router, to which I connect my my new sexy thing, and a wired ethernet 100BaseT connection to my Mac mini, which serves as my media PC (connected to my teevee) and a file server (an additional 380 GB of hard drives hanging off the FireWire connection).
Nothing too radical. I try to keep a VPN from my Mac mini to dante, the server my website is hosted on, so I can get around the stoopid block that Comcast has on running servers on their connection.
I've wanted DSL so I can maintain my own home server, but since Qworst and I have done battle, that's not likely to happen. Technically, DSL is available in my area but, strangely, and without any documentation that might bite their ass in court, they claim that "technical difficulties" prevent them from providing this address with DSL broadband.
At any rate, I've been having problems. On a random basis, all of a sudden my router will stop getting an IP from Comcast. My internal network still works - I can see and get to all my shared drives - but my connection to the larger tubes of the internets ceases and desists. The only thing I've found to restore the connection is to unplug and reboot the cable modem.
This had happened about a year ago, and I got so frustrated that I called Comcast and had them send out a technician. When he showed up, he pissed me off by remarking on how messy my apartment was, to which I snapped "Why don't you just focus on diagnosing the problem?"... not a good friendly basis. So when he told me that my WiFi router was causing radio interference with my cable modem, he didn't take the next step of, y'know, replacing the cable modem, which at that point was at least 4 years old.
I've been paying a small fee every month to "lease" the cable modem, and I'd long ago passed the point where I could have just purchased a new one. I just put up with it, even though I was within my rights to ask Comcast to replace this one.
I tried to build a Faraday cage out of aluminum foil and a cardboard box. That seemed to work for a while, but then the problem returned. I limped along from that point on, either forgoing the use of WiFi and just plugging my laptop in directly, or living with having to reboot the cable modem, but in the last several weeks the problem has gotten progressively worse, resulting in my having to reboot the cable modem every couple of days, then every day, then every couple of hours... and the more often it occurred, the longer it seemed I had to leave it powered off before it would start passing packets again.
I wasn't sure at this point if the problem was radio interference, or an overheating problem, maybe exaggerated by the additional heat caused by my enclosure. Argh.
So this weekend I decided to do something about it. Comcast listed all the "Comcast certified cable modems" that would work with their service - the common denominator seemed to be that the units all supported DOCSIS 1.1 or greater. Easy enough. I headed out to Stuff, a pawn shop that specializes in electronic equipment and goodies, and there on their shelf was a Toshiba PCX2600 cable modem, for just $14.95. I thought that the model number was a good omen...
I found that I couldn't just plug in the new cable modem and have it "just work". Comcast needed to authorize the MAC address on their network. I called Comcast, and after an hour-long call to Paul in Winnipeg, Canada, where he kept me on hold for a long time, returning only to assure me that the problem wasn't something I had done, that he was working on it, and that he would get it fixed... finally he came back online and explained that he could not get my service working. He had to "escalate" the call and that it would be working within the next 24 hours. Probably.
Fine. I was done for the night, anyway. I went to work the next day (yesterday), came home... and found it still wasn't quite working. Well, it hadn't been 24 hours yet...
But I tried one last thing. When I had called Comcast, I had had my laptop plugged directly into the cable modem, since they don't service, or even troubleshoot, WiFi or home networks. I thought that maybe they had only "authorized" the MAC address for my laptop. I cloned that address to my WiFi router, plugged it all in... and presto, it worked.
Except... now I've discovered that the power plug for my WiFi router is loose. If I jiggle it, it will power off. I now wonder if that was causing the original problem - if it loses connection with the cable modem, that would cause the symptoms I was seeing before. I would still "see" my shared drives because AppleTalk will cache network shares for a certain amount of time, long enough for the router to reconnect my Mac mini and my new sexy thing. Argh.
Oh, well, at least it's all working now. But maybe I'll save up and replace my $30 WiFi router with a sexy AirPort Extreme Base Station... that way I can just plug the external backup drives directly into the router...
Why is white plastic so damned sexy, anyway?
Monday, March 05, 2007
Briefcase full of Blues
Twenty-five years ago today, he OD'ed on drugs. I know that's not something of which to be proud, and that's not why I admired John Belushi.I just thought he was funny. He made me laugh, and smile, and even sing and dance.
I miss him.
Saturday, March 03, 2007
Context safely removed
When stepping outside of my normal path, it's supposed to feel a bit scary, right?At least part of that fear is because I'm on unrecognized ground... isn't it?
I shouldn't expect to feel "normal" when doing something rare. Should I?
I'm going to go with "yes" to all those questions. For now.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
So difficult
I just wanted to point out that I'm not the only one who finds political trolls hard to ignore. Even Kari Chisholm of Blue Oregon, who had earlier pointed out that feeding the trolls was counter-productive, sometimes feels compelled to speak up.All I can say is: SEE?!
But no matter how you approach it, either with rational, logical arguments or with smack-downs, trolls win, because all they want is attention. It's a lesson that's as old as the internets.
Collecting less
I've noticed that my belly button (an innie) isn't as deep as it used to be.I guess I am losing weight, after all.
