Often on Monday evenings Ruth and I go down to the local Barnes and Nobles Bookstore. We'll browse the latest, grab a coffee and crumb cake and sit and read for an hour.
I was having an usually hard time finding something that looked interesting. Ruth had already found a book, had her coffee and cake, and was sitting at one of the round tables.
I browsed the New Arrivals and New Paperbacks but nothing there. Then I went to the bargain isles. It was then I stumbled across the book: Driving Mr. Albert by Michael Paterniti. The front cover reads: "A Trip Across America with Einstein's Brain." Now this is a book that will go with coffee and cake.
When I got to the table Ruth says: "The coffee is great but this cookie is like a rock." She wasn't kidding. Judging by the feel of it, concrete was the ingredient. It looked horrible. I stabbed it with the fork but it didn't budge, I may have bent the fork. No way I'm going to break my teeth on this.
I took the plate with the brick back to the cashier. I told the girl that this is ridiculously hard. She shrugged. "Can I get a crumb cake instead?" I figured that a desert with the word crumb in it should be softer. "Yeah, I guess." was the enthusiastic reply.
Her boss overheard, stepped to the counter and grabbed the plate. The cookie slid and he flung it into the trash bin. It landed with a loud thud. I heard him say: "Why didn't they throw this crap out? This is old stuff!" Meanwhile she's keying in a charge for a piece of crumb cake I wanted in exchange. He says: "Hey, don't ring anything up, he shouldn't have to pay."
She shrugged again. She was just going through the motions. She didn't much care.
But I was happy. I had Ruth, coffee, cake, and Einstein's Brain.
...dave
Millions of people aren't working, but thank goodness they have jobs.
Monday, January 31, 2005
Sunday, January 30, 2005
Weirdos
While out to dinner with some friends the subject turned to weirdos we've met. You know, people that turn out to be so strange we begin to conclude there is something truly wrong. Sometimes you can tell right away that they are one fry short of a Happy Meal. At other times it takes a while to realize their chimney is clogged.
I met a guy who was dressed impeccably. He was friendly. He asked intelligent questions and responded like a normal person. All was going fine until he said (and remember I'd just met him not three minutes ago):
'I hate to trouble you with my problems but how can I find a job?'
Huh, had I missed the turn signal? Where are we going? It took me a minute or two before I said:
'How long have you been out of work?'
'Since 1992.'
I've got a weird one on my hands. There was no one around to pass him to. I'm stuck. I'm at a formal gathering. What do I do? Just then Ruth walked up. I introduced her to him and then was going to say that we really have to get going. But Ruth was fast, she said 'Nice to meet you.' and was gone. What happened? I'm still stuck. I guess I was in denial because I began trying to figure out how this guy could be out of work for so long. Later, Ruth and I were talking about it. I gave her a few of the details I'd learned.
She said: 'I knew as soon as I walked up that the lights were on but nobody was home.'
'How could you tell?'
'His glassy eyes.'
How could I have missed that?
But Ruth got her weirdo. She was standing in a line at the Post Office. Some guy in front of her turns around and stares. After several backward glances he said: 'Would you please put that necklace clasp in the back? It really bothers me.' Ruth quickly shifted the lobster claw clasp of her herringbone gold necklace to the back of her neck.
I told Ruth she should have said: 'Hey buddy, face the front and it won't bother you, you weirdo'
How weird is that? Can you imagine someone hung up on a necklace clasp showing? And he feels impelled to announce that he's lost his Oreo stuffing. I mean that's what happened right? Imagine what the other people standing in line were thinking. If I were one of them I'd be checking for his face on the Wanted posters on the wall.
On second thought I said: 'Nah, you'd better do as he says and watch your back when you go to your car.'
Someone else in our group told about her escalator experience. She was traveling with her husband who was standing behind her. A man next to her kept staring at her shoes. Finally he said: 'Those are very nice shoes, I mean very nice shoes.' (No wonder he's taking the escalator, his elevator doesn't go to the top floor, if you know what I mean.)
A third person in our party told us about a guy they once knew who collected woman's shoes. Not new shoes but used shoes. He liked the smell. His wife discovered it and blew the whistle. Creepy. This guy's cheese slid right off his cracker.
I guess some folks don't pick up all the channels, either that or their remote's missing a few buttons, if you get my drift.
Their body is by Fisher but their brains are by Mattel.
Weird.
...dave
Some people just have too much yardage between the goal posts.
I met a guy who was dressed impeccably. He was friendly. He asked intelligent questions and responded like a normal person. All was going fine until he said (and remember I'd just met him not three minutes ago):
'I hate to trouble you with my problems but how can I find a job?'
Huh, had I missed the turn signal? Where are we going? It took me a minute or two before I said:
'How long have you been out of work?'
'Since 1992.'
I've got a weird one on my hands. There was no one around to pass him to. I'm stuck. I'm at a formal gathering. What do I do? Just then Ruth walked up. I introduced her to him and then was going to say that we really have to get going. But Ruth was fast, she said 'Nice to meet you.' and was gone. What happened? I'm still stuck. I guess I was in denial because I began trying to figure out how this guy could be out of work for so long. Later, Ruth and I were talking about it. I gave her a few of the details I'd learned.
She said: 'I knew as soon as I walked up that the lights were on but nobody was home.'
'How could you tell?'
'His glassy eyes.'
How could I have missed that?
But Ruth got her weirdo. She was standing in a line at the Post Office. Some guy in front of her turns around and stares. After several backward glances he said: 'Would you please put that necklace clasp in the back? It really bothers me.' Ruth quickly shifted the lobster claw clasp of her herringbone gold necklace to the back of her neck.
I told Ruth she should have said: 'Hey buddy, face the front and it won't bother you, you weirdo'
How weird is that? Can you imagine someone hung up on a necklace clasp showing? And he feels impelled to announce that he's lost his Oreo stuffing. I mean that's what happened right? Imagine what the other people standing in line were thinking. If I were one of them I'd be checking for his face on the Wanted posters on the wall.
On second thought I said: 'Nah, you'd better do as he says and watch your back when you go to your car.'
Someone else in our group told about her escalator experience. She was traveling with her husband who was standing behind her. A man next to her kept staring at her shoes. Finally he said: 'Those are very nice shoes, I mean very nice shoes.' (No wonder he's taking the escalator, his elevator doesn't go to the top floor, if you know what I mean.)
A third person in our party told us about a guy they once knew who collected woman's shoes. Not new shoes but used shoes. He liked the smell. His wife discovered it and blew the whistle. Creepy. This guy's cheese slid right off his cracker.
I guess some folks don't pick up all the channels, either that or their remote's missing a few buttons, if you get my drift.
Their body is by Fisher but their brains are by Mattel.
Weird.
...dave
Some people just have too much yardage between the goal posts.
Saturday, January 29, 2005
Ice Storm
We woke up this morning to an ice storm. It�s nice to be inside on days like this. I peeked outside and found an ice rink in my driveway. Icicles have formed everywhere. It looks like the plants and bushes outside have been over-sprayed with varnish. They are dripping frozen water.
Iced Lanai
Table icicles
Fortunately we had sleet last night. This is basically ice rain that doesn�t stick to the trees or power lines. This morning though it�s raining. There�s about � of inch of ice on the power lines and trees. The news said that when it gets to � inch these begin failing. It looks like this will last all of today, until 4:00 p.m.
Home Alone stairs
I know Ruth has all kinds of plans for me today. She�s got five gallon buckets of paint prepared. I think that means I�ll be kind of busy today. Rats, I was hoping for some reading by the fire.
Our two-story entry way needs painting. The guys that built the porch punched holes through the inside to reposition the lights on the outside. The holes are patched but not painted. Now, at least, our interior matches my desk.
Because we have such a high ceiling in the entryway I need our 24 foot extension ladder. Trouble is I left the 24 foot ladder outside last night and now it�s coated in ice. I guess I will not be able to paint today. I was really looking forward to it you know.
Yeah, I know I could pull it inside and let it dry out while I have breakfast.
I might do that. I need to think about it.
...dave
A lot of problems arise from workers who don't think, and from thinkers who don't work.
Iced Lanai
Table icicles
Fortunately we had sleet last night. This is basically ice rain that doesn�t stick to the trees or power lines. This morning though it�s raining. There�s about � of inch of ice on the power lines and trees. The news said that when it gets to � inch these begin failing. It looks like this will last all of today, until 4:00 p.m.
Home Alone stairs
I know Ruth has all kinds of plans for me today. She�s got five gallon buckets of paint prepared. I think that means I�ll be kind of busy today. Rats, I was hoping for some reading by the fire.
Our two-story entry way needs painting. The guys that built the porch punched holes through the inside to reposition the lights on the outside. The holes are patched but not painted. Now, at least, our interior matches my desk.
Because we have such a high ceiling in the entryway I need our 24 foot extension ladder. Trouble is I left the 24 foot ladder outside last night and now it�s coated in ice. I guess I will not be able to paint today. I was really looking forward to it you know.
Yeah, I know I could pull it inside and let it dry out while I have breakfast.
I might do that. I need to think about it.
...dave
A lot of problems arise from workers who don't think, and from thinkers who don't work.
Face-to-Face Communication
People don�t communicate face-to-face much anymore. It seems most are inclined to use written or phone communication. Even when I visit someone in their cube, they will say �just a minute� and interrupt our discussion to respond to the Instant Message from a friend. It�s strange to me that someone would feel an urgency to respond to a person through a typed message (which is delayed communication) than to a person standing right in front of them at their desk. It kind of reminds me of how ridiculous call waiting is. You interrupt a call you are having with a friend to answer an incoming call from someone you don�t know. How crazy is that?
I�m not sure people know how to communicate face-to-face. Everyone has become accustomed to email, chat, IM, and ICQ. They understand the smiley faces and frowny faces transmitted over computer wires but have lost the ability to read a real live person.
I got on the elevator yesterday and everyone was looking at some kind of handheld device. No one looked up. Some were looking at their pagers, others were scrolling through their Blackberries, and one guy was listening to an iTune on his iPod.
No one says: �Hi, how�s it going?� or �Nice weather.� Or �Looks like a storm.� One guy without a device still wasn't talking. He was staring earnestly and longingly at the descending numbers displayed above the buttons. He reminded me of a dog begging to go outside. I suspect he�s uncomfortable with small talk.
When the elevator door opened, everyone rushed out like a cascading river, and spilled in all directions, plugging their ear buds into their phones.
Wait a minute, I see a pattern here. Oh I get it. Everyone wants to talk to someone else but me.
...dave
Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself. ~Leo Tolstoy
I�m not sure people know how to communicate face-to-face. Everyone has become accustomed to email, chat, IM, and ICQ. They understand the smiley faces and frowny faces transmitted over computer wires but have lost the ability to read a real live person.
I got on the elevator yesterday and everyone was looking at some kind of handheld device. No one looked up. Some were looking at their pagers, others were scrolling through their Blackberries, and one guy was listening to an iTune on his iPod.
No one says: �Hi, how�s it going?� or �Nice weather.� Or �Looks like a storm.� One guy without a device still wasn't talking. He was staring earnestly and longingly at the descending numbers displayed above the buttons. He reminded me of a dog begging to go outside. I suspect he�s uncomfortable with small talk.
When the elevator door opened, everyone rushed out like a cascading river, and spilled in all directions, plugging their ear buds into their phones.
Wait a minute, I see a pattern here. Oh I get it. Everyone wants to talk to someone else but me.
...dave
Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself. ~Leo Tolstoy
Friday, January 28, 2005
Work Journal
I keep a hand-written work journal. Book journals are all the rage now. Everyone is talking about hand written journals. (see Journalisimo, 43 Folders, and of course Moleskinerie a company that makes all kinds of journals.)
I've tried electronic journals. I used colors to help identify key categories such as: meetings, dates, bugs, ideas, and techniques. I once kept a Microsoft Word doc for this. When we started developing in UNIX (Sun Solaris) I used electronic text with VI tags.
Eventually though I moved to a book-type work journal for several reasons:
1) More immediate access in meetings
2) Could draw diagrams and system flows (pictures) and write text
3) Easier to share with others on the team
4) Never have to recharge it
5) Can quickly flip through weeks and months at a time
6) The drawings help me remember more
Over the years I've perfected how to find stuff in the journal even though I don't have a "search" ability like I would in an electronic journal. Before I tell you the methods I use let me explain the reason I went to a hard copy journal for work.
I was working in a startup located on First street in San Jose. Now that I think about it, how appropriate, it was First Street. Did I mention it was a start up?
We rented half of the building from the Hondai Company. We would receive various visits to instruct about copyright and patent laws. The instructor said that in order to back a patent in a court of law, the idea would need to be recorded. He strongly urged us to purchase a lab book and number the pages and date stamp the entry. I found a Record Book by National Brand (56-231) of about 300 pages. These pre-numbered books with acid-free paper cost about $30 each but last me about two years.
The real power is the index I create in the back. It's simply a list of major meetings, events, diagrams, and conclusions and their corresponding page numbers. I use key phrases so that if the subject comes up again I place a coma after the page of the first entry and add the additional page number. This is my "quick search" feature for the analog journal.
Journal diagram and index
I've got about eight years worth of journals now. I rarely reference one older than two years. It's amazing how, paging through the diagrams, I remember so much of the circumstances and events of the time. I can even remember details of The Team.
(I later contributed a more detailed article at DIYplanner.com.)
...dave
I never travel without my notebook. One always needs something sensational and exciting to read on the train. - Oscar Wilde
I've tried electronic journals. I used colors to help identify key categories such as: meetings, dates, bugs, ideas, and techniques. I once kept a Microsoft Word doc for this. When we started developing in UNIX (Sun Solaris) I used electronic text with VI tags.
Eventually though I moved to a book-type work journal for several reasons:
1) More immediate access in meetings
2) Could draw diagrams and system flows (pictures) and write text
3) Easier to share with others on the team
4) Never have to recharge it
5) Can quickly flip through weeks and months at a time
6) The drawings help me remember more
Over the years I've perfected how to find stuff in the journal even though I don't have a "search" ability like I would in an electronic journal. Before I tell you the methods I use let me explain the reason I went to a hard copy journal for work.
I was working in a startup located on First street in San Jose. Now that I think about it, how appropriate, it was First Street. Did I mention it was a start up?
We rented half of the building from the Hondai Company. We would receive various visits to instruct about copyright and patent laws. The instructor said that in order to back a patent in a court of law, the idea would need to be recorded. He strongly urged us to purchase a lab book and number the pages and date stamp the entry. I found a Record Book by National Brand (56-231) of about 300 pages. These pre-numbered books with acid-free paper cost about $30 each but last me about two years.
The real power is the index I create in the back. It's simply a list of major meetings, events, diagrams, and conclusions and their corresponding page numbers. I use key phrases so that if the subject comes up again I place a coma after the page of the first entry and add the additional page number. This is my "quick search" feature for the analog journal.
Journal diagram and index
I've got about eight years worth of journals now. I rarely reference one older than two years. It's amazing how, paging through the diagrams, I remember so much of the circumstances and events of the time. I can even remember details of The Team.
(I later contributed a more detailed article at DIYplanner.com.)
...dave
I never travel without my notebook. One always needs something sensational and exciting to read on the train. - Oscar Wilde
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
My Office Desk
We'll my office is really Ruth's office and recently Eric's office. That's right, all one big happy family office.
Eric did have his machine in his room with a wireless connection. He got a virus, moved his machine down by mine so that I could help him debug the issues. After several attempts it's now clear of any of those pesky self-installing programs those hackers write who have nothing productive to do. Thing is, Eric's machine is still down here. It's right here on my desk, if you pardon the exaggeration.
You see, Eric and I are sharing this plywood work surface spanning two file cabinets. It was to be a temporary solution for the lack of a proper desk. I finished the top and I tacked some half-inch round-over molding on the front side so that I wouldn't roll away with splinters in my gut. This worked real well for a while.
That was twelve years ago. You can imagine what this thing looks like now. It's really sad that we've got all this great computer hardware sitting on this rather early-poverty surface we call a desk. It hasn't been refinished in years, it now has ink spots and coffee rings. The edge and center are brown from our hand oils. I don't exaggerate. It's really worse than I've described. One day I decided to re-paint the file cabinets. They were getting a little rusty, the paint was bubbling and frankly I stopped inviting my friends over. So I built a make-shift two-by-four leg for right side and hauled the offending two drawer eyesore downstairs for a redress.
That was two years ago. I don't know what happened. I ran out of paint I think, then I couldn't get the pieces back together, and the desk was working as it was so why bother. Turned out I didn't need those two other file drawers anyway.
I think Ruth is tired of looking at this mess because she's been talking about buying me a real desk, bless her heart.
I just hope it's a nice desk, you know, nothing tacky.
..dave
You can know a person by the kind of desk he keeps. - Harold S. Geneen
Eric did have his machine in his room with a wireless connection. He got a virus, moved his machine down by mine so that I could help him debug the issues. After several attempts it's now clear of any of those pesky self-installing programs those hackers write who have nothing productive to do. Thing is, Eric's machine is still down here. It's right here on my desk, if you pardon the exaggeration.
You see, Eric and I are sharing this plywood work surface spanning two file cabinets. It was to be a temporary solution for the lack of a proper desk. I finished the top and I tacked some half-inch round-over molding on the front side so that I wouldn't roll away with splinters in my gut. This worked real well for a while.
That was twelve years ago. You can imagine what this thing looks like now. It's really sad that we've got all this great computer hardware sitting on this rather early-poverty surface we call a desk. It hasn't been refinished in years, it now has ink spots and coffee rings. The edge and center are brown from our hand oils. I don't exaggerate. It's really worse than I've described. One day I decided to re-paint the file cabinets. They were getting a little rusty, the paint was bubbling and frankly I stopped inviting my friends over. So I built a make-shift two-by-four leg for right side and hauled the offending two drawer eyesore downstairs for a redress.
That was two years ago. I don't know what happened. I ran out of paint I think, then I couldn't get the pieces back together, and the desk was working as it was so why bother. Turned out I didn't need those two other file drawers anyway.
I think Ruth is tired of looking at this mess because she's been talking about buying me a real desk, bless her heart.
I just hope it's a nice desk, you know, nothing tacky.
..dave
You can know a person by the kind of desk he keeps. - Harold S. Geneen
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
Impatient Driving
My wife says I've become impatient since I got my little roadster but it's really not true.
I have noticed that people seem to drive a lot slower when I'm around. They must see me in their rear view mirror and slow down just to spite me. As near as I can tell that's the reason. I figure that they'd rather be in a roadster then see one ahead of them. So they begin to crawl. I'm sure of it. Why else would anyone slow down to 41 in a 45 mile an hour zone?
It's not that I'm impatient, it's just that I want to be somewhere before next Tuesday. Yes, sometimes I want go the speed limit, it's true. There's no crime in that!
It seems that everyone else would rather look at the scenery, do their make-up, and use the friends and family connection on their phone. People do everything in their cars except drive these days. Roads are for driving, People! Sometimes folks just need to be reminded of these things. Sometimes it's my duty to do the reminding. Something kind like:
'Get out of the way buddy!'
And another thing, just in case anyone is confused, it's blinker first, and break second. I know it's hard for some folks to remember the sequence. Here's a clue, remember 'L' always comes before 'R' (as in bLinker and then bRake). Do I have to spell it out for them? Sheeeesh.
Folks may sense a little urgency in my engine whine as I pass them, but I am certainly not impatient.
To me, an impatient person is someone who always leans on the horn and I never do that, mostly never. Sometimes I do have to let them know I'm around because, just looking at the way they drive it's obvious they've fallen asleep. Horns tend to wake folks up. If though, I have to use the horn, I always use friendly honks. You know, short little blasts, nothing long and blaring. Because it's not what you say but HOW you say it that matters.
Also, impatient people usually talk to other drivers, and often AT them. I don't ever do that. Except, of course, if they are especially incompetent or need some admonition to get a clue. Like the other day, one guy decided to move into the turning lane as I approached IN the turning lane. I kindly told him that he was lacking sufficient intelligence ("Idiot!"). I said it nicely and under my breath to avoid offending and just in case he read lips. And of course, I gave a short friendly blast or two, to wake him up, because he'd obviously fallen asleep at the wheel. I mean why else would he be moving into a lane already occupied?
My point is, I am NOT impatient. I'm just a conscientious driver trying to do the posted speed, waking up drivers along the way, and reminding them of their need to get a clue.
I think my wife is mistaken.
...dave
I drive way too fast to worry about cholesterol. ~Author Unknown
I have noticed that people seem to drive a lot slower when I'm around. They must see me in their rear view mirror and slow down just to spite me. As near as I can tell that's the reason. I figure that they'd rather be in a roadster then see one ahead of them. So they begin to crawl. I'm sure of it. Why else would anyone slow down to 41 in a 45 mile an hour zone?
It's not that I'm impatient, it's just that I want to be somewhere before next Tuesday. Yes, sometimes I want go the speed limit, it's true. There's no crime in that!
It seems that everyone else would rather look at the scenery, do their make-up, and use the friends and family connection on their phone. People do everything in their cars except drive these days. Roads are for driving, People! Sometimes folks just need to be reminded of these things. Sometimes it's my duty to do the reminding. Something kind like:
'Get out of the way buddy!'
And another thing, just in case anyone is confused, it's blinker first, and break second. I know it's hard for some folks to remember the sequence. Here's a clue, remember 'L' always comes before 'R' (as in bLinker and then bRake). Do I have to spell it out for them? Sheeeesh.
Folks may sense a little urgency in my engine whine as I pass them, but I am certainly not impatient.
To me, an impatient person is someone who always leans on the horn and I never do that, mostly never. Sometimes I do have to let them know I'm around because, just looking at the way they drive it's obvious they've fallen asleep. Horns tend to wake folks up. If though, I have to use the horn, I always use friendly honks. You know, short little blasts, nothing long and blaring. Because it's not what you say but HOW you say it that matters.
Also, impatient people usually talk to other drivers, and often AT them. I don't ever do that. Except, of course, if they are especially incompetent or need some admonition to get a clue. Like the other day, one guy decided to move into the turning lane as I approached IN the turning lane. I kindly told him that he was lacking sufficient intelligence ("Idiot!"). I said it nicely and under my breath to avoid offending and just in case he read lips. And of course, I gave a short friendly blast or two, to wake him up, because he'd obviously fallen asleep at the wheel. I mean why else would he be moving into a lane already occupied?
My point is, I am NOT impatient. I'm just a conscientious driver trying to do the posted speed, waking up drivers along the way, and reminding them of their need to get a clue.
I think my wife is mistaken.
...dave
I drive way too fast to worry about cholesterol. ~Author Unknown
Dumping Junk
I�m at a point where I want to dump my junk.
I collect too much stuff, stuff I don�t really need. I buy something to replace something else but never toss the replaced thing. I just squirrel it away somewhere down in the cellar where I forget about it. I discover the stuff when it attacks me next time I visit down there. I don�t go down there often, it scares me.
I try to throw stuff out. I�m successful sometimes. When I start pawing through the junk I�ll remember a story and bore my son with it. This takes much longer and drives him crazy. It's kind of fun.
But I�m turning over a new leaf. I want to discard all the irrelevant stuff in my life. I�m not even going to open the boxes. I�m going to toss the entire box -- unopened. I�m confident I don�t need a thing inside.
Of course, I�m not throwing everything out. That would be lunacy. I mean, I have to keep my books. They are a great reference. I�ll keep the cameras and lenses. I can�t throw out the slides until I get them scanned, but I promise, as soon as they are scanned they are gone. I�ll do that real soon.
I�ve got a few computer parts I could toss. I will defiantly get rid of the old hard drive rails. I don�t think I need those anymore. I�d better keep the old break out box and multi-gender ribbon cable. That could come in handy some day. It was invaluable back in 1989 while debugging a communications box on a client�s machine.
They say three moves or one fire will help you get rid of stuff you don�t need. Time for a move. Do I hear a fire truck?
�dave
They say hard work never hurt anybody, but why take the chance.
I collect too much stuff, stuff I don�t really need. I buy something to replace something else but never toss the replaced thing. I just squirrel it away somewhere down in the cellar where I forget about it. I discover the stuff when it attacks me next time I visit down there. I don�t go down there often, it scares me.
I try to throw stuff out. I�m successful sometimes. When I start pawing through the junk I�ll remember a story and bore my son with it. This takes much longer and drives him crazy. It's kind of fun.
But I�m turning over a new leaf. I want to discard all the irrelevant stuff in my life. I�m not even going to open the boxes. I�m going to toss the entire box -- unopened. I�m confident I don�t need a thing inside.
Of course, I�m not throwing everything out. That would be lunacy. I mean, I have to keep my books. They are a great reference. I�ll keep the cameras and lenses. I can�t throw out the slides until I get them scanned, but I promise, as soon as they are scanned they are gone. I�ll do that real soon.
I�ve got a few computer parts I could toss. I will defiantly get rid of the old hard drive rails. I don�t think I need those anymore. I�d better keep the old break out box and multi-gender ribbon cable. That could come in handy some day. It was invaluable back in 1989 while debugging a communications box on a client�s machine.
They say three moves or one fire will help you get rid of stuff you don�t need. Time for a move. Do I hear a fire truck?
�dave
They say hard work never hurt anybody, but why take the chance.
Monday, January 24, 2005
Going Digital
It's a hard choice to make but I'm convinced that my days of manual cameras are coming to a close. I've loved the Nikons I've had but I've come to the conclusion the digitals are getting close to the quality. Many of them now have better manual controls such as long exposure to fill in the background of a night shot.
I used the Cannon S1 digital with 10x zoom and was really impressed. For the type of photography I do now it seems the best. For posting to the blogs it's great. Of course, there will be better digitals, more pixels, more zoom and better quality.
Whenever I shot with my Nikon I get better pictures for sure. Nothing beats a Nikkor lens. They are awesome.
NYC Scape (FM2n w/35mm 1.4)
I had thought I could not get a digital Nikon body and use my existing manual lenses but they've changed the coupling. (I'm tempted to bring one of my lenses into a store and mount it to a digital just to see what I would loose.)
50th State Fair (F3 w/24mm Nikkor)
The reality is I just want to simplify the whole process. Traveling light I can take digitals, journal a trip, and post it on the Internet for friends and family to enjoy. (I know I'm stretching the term 'enjoy' here.)
There are sites that will bound your images into a book with captions for under $30. With a manual I'd have to carry the lenses and bodies around with me, take the pictures, scan them in and then produce the blog. Digitals are lighter and you cut out the scanning and development cost. It's the way to go for me.
Now I've just got to find a buyer for my old equipment. Hmmmm'eBay!
Other pictures
Some more pictures
...dave
Update: I wanted a more professional level machine and eventually bought the Nikon D300s.
Theoretically Related Posts
I used the Cannon S1 digital with 10x zoom and was really impressed. For the type of photography I do now it seems the best. For posting to the blogs it's great. Of course, there will be better digitals, more pixels, more zoom and better quality.
Whenever I shot with my Nikon I get better pictures for sure. Nothing beats a Nikkor lens. They are awesome.
NYC Scape (FM2n w/35mm 1.4)
I had thought I could not get a digital Nikon body and use my existing manual lenses but they've changed the coupling. (I'm tempted to bring one of my lenses into a store and mount it to a digital just to see what I would loose.)
50th State Fair (F3 w/24mm Nikkor)
The reality is I just want to simplify the whole process. Traveling light I can take digitals, journal a trip, and post it on the Internet for friends and family to enjoy. (I know I'm stretching the term 'enjoy' here.)
There are sites that will bound your images into a book with captions for under $30. With a manual I'd have to carry the lenses and bodies around with me, take the pictures, scan them in and then produce the blog. Digitals are lighter and you cut out the scanning and development cost. It's the way to go for me.
Now I've just got to find a buyer for my old equipment. Hmmmm'eBay!
Other pictures
Some more pictures
...dave
Update: I wanted a more professional level machine and eventually bought the Nikon D300s.
Theoretically Related Posts
Friday, January 21, 2005
The Ultimate Restaurant Experience
A workmate of mine decided to check out the new Per Se Restaurant in New York City. So he flew his fiance� and himself and went with a couple of others to check it out.
This is a world renowned restaurant that serves 5, 9, and even 15 course meals. You can order from the menu or just take whatever the Chef Thomas Keller prepares. He took the latter.
He explains the experience as unbelievable, never having the same waiter twice. The meal lasted three and a half hours (they started at 10:00 p.m. and left at 1:30 a.m.). He describes truffles brought to the table in a humidor. Two of the truffles were grated into their meals. I guess these things alone cost some bucks.
He was having a great time until he got the check. He knew the regular meal was about $150 per plate. He thought the Chef's choice would be a little more. But was blown out by the final tab. It came to fifteen hundred dollars. You read that right, fifteen hundred bills for four people. (Keep in mind that he first flew to NYC before sitting down at the table.)
That's right just $300 bucks per person. What a deal, yeah?
...dave
A mentally challenged person is said to be a few fries short of a Happy Meal.
This is a world renowned restaurant that serves 5, 9, and even 15 course meals. You can order from the menu or just take whatever the Chef Thomas Keller prepares. He took the latter.
He explains the experience as unbelievable, never having the same waiter twice. The meal lasted three and a half hours (they started at 10:00 p.m. and left at 1:30 a.m.). He describes truffles brought to the table in a humidor. Two of the truffles were grated into their meals. I guess these things alone cost some bucks.
He was having a great time until he got the check. He knew the regular meal was about $150 per plate. He thought the Chef's choice would be a little more. But was blown out by the final tab. It came to fifteen hundred dollars. You read that right, fifteen hundred bills for four people. (Keep in mind that he first flew to NYC before sitting down at the table.)
That's right just $300 bucks per person. What a deal, yeah?
...dave
A mentally challenged person is said to be a few fries short of a Happy Meal.
Thursday, January 20, 2005
Eric's Story Blog
Eric, my son, has been writing a story on-line. It's about a kid that does Parkour and gets into a life of crime. It's got all the great stuff a story should have, revenge, cops, friends, enemies, etc. It's here if you�d like to give it a read. Remember that it's in descending order. You have to read the archives to catch up but after that just visit the page for a daily read.
Now if you get bored here you can go there.
It's hard keeping our public satisfied with good content to read here on the Internet. The public can be such a fickle bunch.
Enjoy.
...dave
Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend. Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read. -Groucho Marx
Now if you get bored here you can go there.
It's hard keeping our public satisfied with good content to read here on the Internet. The public can be such a fickle bunch.
Enjoy.
...dave
Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend. Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read. -Groucho Marx
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
Hardware Challenged
I found a great, cheap DVD player for our small TV. It was about $40. What a deal. I remember when you couldn�t touch these things without plunking down 200 frog skins. (I know, I know, we are the last family in the subdivision, maybe the state, to purchase a DVD player.)
Where they confuse you is on the connectivity. Ever try to hook one of these puppies to a pre-DVD TV? It�s a challenge, or it was for me. I may be hardware challenged. Anything software I can usually handle but don�t confuse me with wires and switches.
I got it home and looked for the left and right stereo inputs to the television. There aren�t any. There were just two inputs and I had three outputs. What's a hardware challenged person to do? I had an RF connection, maybe I needed a unit that could connect to it.
Then I went back to the store and bought a more expensive DVD with an RF connector for my old TV that doesn�t have s-video. I did glance at some more hardware, it gave me chills. There's something called a "modulator" but it looked more complicated than the DVD and it cost $16 bucks. I just imagined all these wires all over the place. The device also had lights in the front and a CH3/CH4 switch. Can you imagine staring at this thing while trying to watch television? It's got more blinking lights then an airport runway.
So I bought a sleek $150 DVD player/recorder with RF connectors. It had a bunch of other inputs and outputs but I tried not to stare at them.
When I got it home I discovered that while I had more inputs and outputs than I knew what to do with, I didn�t have all the cables, specifically the RF cable. By this time I�ve boxed up the first recorder. It was then that I realized I could connect the left input with the video and have it working.
At that point it dawned on me that my cheaper recorder could be used the same way. Soooo, I boxed up the expensive one and un-boxed the cheap one and hooked it up. Now all I have to do is return the second one. Trouble is, I spent nearly an hour in the store trying to figure out which model I wanted and now I have to go back spend more time in the return line. I wish they�d just make all the devices have all the connections you�d ever want or need. You could hook them up to old TVs with RF inputs, new computers, and new home theater systems. Oh, and include all the cables too. Don�t make me think.
I was exhausted. By now it�s 12:00 a.m. I take a shower, load the DVD I got from the store and I�m ready for some entertainment. Except, I realize about 20 minutes into the show that I�ve just rented a sappy DVD. I couldn�t tell from the jacket but it was basically an advertisement for a church. It was some kind of a home grown flick.
What a disappointment this turned out to be. Makes a guy want to abandon all things electronic. There is one interesting thing about the expensive unit. All these things have a built-in clock. I don't know why the manufacturers think you need one. I end up putting black tape on them. Well this one knew what time it was as soon as I plugged it in. I swear, it�s true, I'm not making this up. How do they do that?
�dave
"I always arrive late at the office, but I make up for it by leaving early." - Charles Lamb.
Where they confuse you is on the connectivity. Ever try to hook one of these puppies to a pre-DVD TV? It�s a challenge, or it was for me. I may be hardware challenged. Anything software I can usually handle but don�t confuse me with wires and switches.
I got it home and looked for the left and right stereo inputs to the television. There aren�t any. There were just two inputs and I had three outputs. What's a hardware challenged person to do? I had an RF connection, maybe I needed a unit that could connect to it.
Then I went back to the store and bought a more expensive DVD with an RF connector for my old TV that doesn�t have s-video. I did glance at some more hardware, it gave me chills. There's something called a "modulator" but it looked more complicated than the DVD and it cost $16 bucks. I just imagined all these wires all over the place. The device also had lights in the front and a CH3/CH4 switch. Can you imagine staring at this thing while trying to watch television? It's got more blinking lights then an airport runway.
So I bought a sleek $150 DVD player/recorder with RF connectors. It had a bunch of other inputs and outputs but I tried not to stare at them.
When I got it home I discovered that while I had more inputs and outputs than I knew what to do with, I didn�t have all the cables, specifically the RF cable. By this time I�ve boxed up the first recorder. It was then that I realized I could connect the left input with the video and have it working.
At that point it dawned on me that my cheaper recorder could be used the same way. Soooo, I boxed up the expensive one and un-boxed the cheap one and hooked it up. Now all I have to do is return the second one. Trouble is, I spent nearly an hour in the store trying to figure out which model I wanted and now I have to go back spend more time in the return line. I wish they�d just make all the devices have all the connections you�d ever want or need. You could hook them up to old TVs with RF inputs, new computers, and new home theater systems. Oh, and include all the cables too. Don�t make me think.
I was exhausted. By now it�s 12:00 a.m. I take a shower, load the DVD I got from the store and I�m ready for some entertainment. Except, I realize about 20 minutes into the show that I�ve just rented a sappy DVD. I couldn�t tell from the jacket but it was basically an advertisement for a church. It was some kind of a home grown flick.
What a disappointment this turned out to be. Makes a guy want to abandon all things electronic. There is one interesting thing about the expensive unit. All these things have a built-in clock. I don't know why the manufacturers think you need one. I end up putting black tape on them. Well this one knew what time it was as soon as I plugged it in. I swear, it�s true, I'm not making this up. How do they do that?
�dave
"I always arrive late at the office, but I make up for it by leaving early." - Charles Lamb.
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
Hummers
I just walked out of Walmart and you'll never guess what I saw parked in the handicap zone - a monster black, immaculate, Humvee. Now this is truly puzzling. How could a person who ownes a Humvee also be allowed to park in the handicap zone?
If a person does require special parking because of a physical limitation, how do they get into the Humvee in the first place? Have you ever tried getting into one of these monsters? I've hoisted myself into one of those beasts at a car show. I needed both arms, both feet, my teeth, and someone from behind pushing me so as to catapult me into the cab.
These things are designed to roam war torn areas. There are thousands in Iraq (19,000 to date). Now I know that there are concerns around armoring them to protect troupes etc. (I've heard reports of some placing sand bags under the seats for protection against land mines.) My point is these things aren't designed for physically challenged people who are going to Walmart for some pickles. They're designed for soldiers in a military combat zone.
What's worse is the way this Hummer was parked, diagonally, that's right, diagonally. Remember that there are wide striped areas on either side of handicap zones, but this driver was unable to keep it between the lines. Wait a minute, maybe the person was mentally handicap, er, I mean, challenged. They didn't have the ability to park between the lines. Would that qualify for a handicap plate?
When I stop to think about it, these Hummers pop up in the weirdest places. Several are parked in the parking garage where I work. They are always the ones taking up two spaces and parked at an angle. I guess they do this to avoid other drivers who might ding the doors or more accurately, the running boards. I just don't get it. It's designed to drive in a combat zone, over potholes, sand dunes, and rocks but people buy one and park it in a protected space in a garage? No make sense.
If I had a Hummer, I'd ding it up on purpose just to show how tough I am. Looking at a minty Hummer is like looking at a minty Nikon camera, they owner can't be a pro. They aren't pushing it to the limits, they can't be serious. Pro's tools are battle scared, worn, and dented.
Anyone driving a Hummer without the battle scars, is a wanabe tough guy. But what do I know?
...dave
I want to die in my sleep like my grandfather... Not screaming and yelling like the passengers in his car.
If a person does require special parking because of a physical limitation, how do they get into the Humvee in the first place? Have you ever tried getting into one of these monsters? I've hoisted myself into one of those beasts at a car show. I needed both arms, both feet, my teeth, and someone from behind pushing me so as to catapult me into the cab.
These things are designed to roam war torn areas. There are thousands in Iraq (19,000 to date). Now I know that there are concerns around armoring them to protect troupes etc. (I've heard reports of some placing sand bags under the seats for protection against land mines.) My point is these things aren't designed for physically challenged people who are going to Walmart for some pickles. They're designed for soldiers in a military combat zone.
What's worse is the way this Hummer was parked, diagonally, that's right, diagonally. Remember that there are wide striped areas on either side of handicap zones, but this driver was unable to keep it between the lines. Wait a minute, maybe the person was mentally handicap, er, I mean, challenged. They didn't have the ability to park between the lines. Would that qualify for a handicap plate?
When I stop to think about it, these Hummers pop up in the weirdest places. Several are parked in the parking garage where I work. They are always the ones taking up two spaces and parked at an angle. I guess they do this to avoid other drivers who might ding the doors or more accurately, the running boards. I just don't get it. It's designed to drive in a combat zone, over potholes, sand dunes, and rocks but people buy one and park it in a protected space in a garage? No make sense.
If I had a Hummer, I'd ding it up on purpose just to show how tough I am. Looking at a minty Hummer is like looking at a minty Nikon camera, they owner can't be a pro. They aren't pushing it to the limits, they can't be serious. Pro's tools are battle scared, worn, and dented.
Anyone driving a Hummer without the battle scars, is a wanabe tough guy. But what do I know?
...dave
I want to die in my sleep like my grandfather... Not screaming and yelling like the passengers in his car.
Monday, January 17, 2005
An eBay experience
Purchasing on eBay is a crapshoot.
I bought an item on eBay just a few days ago and it�s turning bad. I�ve had very good experiences with eBay so I�m taken aback on this one.
Everything was fine until the package arrived. I open and discover it�s all scratched up. So I send an email and get no response. So I send another, still no response. I made the point that the item was described as �Excellent Condition� and since it was not I wanted a refund or exchange. Simple logic, nothing complicated here. (The picture used for the ad shows no scratches, nor does the ad mention them. Most sellers take closeups of any defect so that you really know what you're bidding on.)
I tell him that if he does not respond, I�ll leave negative feedback. That�s not too great for a seller as most people check out the track record of a seller before bidding on an item. It kind of ruins a reputation. Anyway, I leave the feedback and he responds to my feedback (not my email) with a negative response.
He says in the post that I�m trying to cheat him. Hmmmm, how do I reason with this guy? Is it possible? Like I�m going to cheat him on a $40 item for a $25,000 Porsche (book value). Yeah, like I scratched up the item taking it out of the box? Maybe he's got some complex or something. "Come on dude, chill. The whole world is not out to get you. Decaf."
I've noticed that people who think everyone is trying to cheat them are out to cheat the other folks first. I knew a guy who thought that all the cops were out to get him. I can�t imagine why, he only dealt drugs, robbed homes, and wrecked cars, can�t imagine why the cops would want to pull a guy like that over.
Hey, maybe there�s truth to the old school yard ditty: �Takes one to know one.�
I hope this guy comes clean and sends me the item he described in the ad. Hey, I�ll pay the shipping, I�m reasonable guy.
Sheeeesh, life is just too short for this kind of nonsense.
�dave
Cheat me in the price, but not in the goods. � English proverb
I bought an item on eBay just a few days ago and it�s turning bad. I�ve had very good experiences with eBay so I�m taken aback on this one.
Everything was fine until the package arrived. I open and discover it�s all scratched up. So I send an email and get no response. So I send another, still no response. I made the point that the item was described as �Excellent Condition� and since it was not I wanted a refund or exchange. Simple logic, nothing complicated here. (The picture used for the ad shows no scratches, nor does the ad mention them. Most sellers take closeups of any defect so that you really know what you're bidding on.)
I tell him that if he does not respond, I�ll leave negative feedback. That�s not too great for a seller as most people check out the track record of a seller before bidding on an item. It kind of ruins a reputation. Anyway, I leave the feedback and he responds to my feedback (not my email) with a negative response.
He says in the post that I�m trying to cheat him. Hmmmm, how do I reason with this guy? Is it possible? Like I�m going to cheat him on a $40 item for a $25,000 Porsche (book value). Yeah, like I scratched up the item taking it out of the box? Maybe he's got some complex or something. "Come on dude, chill. The whole world is not out to get you. Decaf."
I've noticed that people who think everyone is trying to cheat them are out to cheat the other folks first. I knew a guy who thought that all the cops were out to get him. I can�t imagine why, he only dealt drugs, robbed homes, and wrecked cars, can�t imagine why the cops would want to pull a guy like that over.
Hey, maybe there�s truth to the old school yard ditty: �Takes one to know one.�
I hope this guy comes clean and sends me the item he described in the ad. Hey, I�ll pay the shipping, I�m reasonable guy.
Sheeeesh, life is just too short for this kind of nonsense.
�dave
Cheat me in the price, but not in the goods. � English proverb
Sunday, January 16, 2005
Taco
A neighborhood cat has adopted us.
At first we ignored him, then chased him off our porch, but in the end we gave in and started feeding him. He just kept coming back and no one claimed him. My wife thought he had such a good personality, which isn't saying much compared to the cat we already have.
We call him Taco but we really don't know what his name is. We've placed a collar around his neck to show some ownership I guess. We've even plugged in a heating pad and placed it on the lounge outside so that he can keep warm in some of these 40-degree nights. Fact is, I've kind of grown attached to him, whatever attachment a human can have to a cat. I've heard it said that humans don't own cats, cats own humans. It's crazy I know but it's really true. Humans can own dogs but not cats.
Cats and dogs are such opposites. A dog's wagging tail says that it's happy, but a wagging tail on a cat says it's mad. Ears pulled back on a dog shows it's submissive, but on a cat it means it's angry. A growl from a dog says it's mad, but the cat's growl or purr says it's content.
Anyway, back to Taco. We've started this ritual of feeding this animal inside. At first I told my wife to keep it outside because we don't know where it's been. I was quickly overruled when we heard the food bowl scooting across the back porch one night. We saw the outline of what we thought was a new cat voraciously eating the remaining cat food. When we flicked on the porch light we discovered the large "cat" had a hairless tail, ah, that is, it was an opossum! This thing was fearless. When I opened the door to chase him away he peered up at me and then looked at my feet. I slammed the door, afraid he was going to scamper in to take a look around the inside of our house. We tried fixing the back fence but he kept coming back. It wasn't until we started bringing the food indoors that he stopped coming by.
So Taco comes in to eat now but lounges on the back porch, on the lounge of course. This morning I poured his food, he only like it dry, opened the back door, and he waltzed right in.
Now, after eating, he meows. He wants to go out. And his meow is not a soft, gentle sort of cry, but it's loud and ugly. When I peeked around the corner to see what was up, Snickers, our other cat, is pestering him. This was causing his plea for the exit. I heard from another neighbor that someone else tried to adopt Taco. When then invited him in for a meal their other four cats attacked him. So I guess he'd rather dine and dash than hang around for a beating from the resident cat.
Truth is, Snickers doesn't attack him. Snickers just sits there looking while Taco eats, a kind of subtle intimidation tactic. Snickers stands about two and a half feet away and stares at him. Then he'll sit and wrap his tail around his paws, his eyes are big, and just stare him down. All the while Taco goes on eating, with an occasional glance up at the Snickers cat.
This morning I saw Snickers try a different tack. He was stretched out on his side, just two and a half feet away, end of tail slapping the wood floor. After Taco ate he settled down some, on his haunches. He hunched down and wrapped his tail around his body and just kept staring at the back door casing, the crack where some breeze comes through. Then Snickers got up and sniffed around the plants to the back of Taco, just about two feet away. Taco watched him. Snickers knows he has no business by the plants but he just uses it as an excuse to roam behind Taco. I know just what he's doing and say: "Snickers" in a warning tone. He backs off.
But he's already spooked Taco and now Taco starts his moaning meow. It's such a piercing sound, like fingernails on a blackboard, that I have to let him out.
He returns to his lounge out back to wait for the next hunger pang.
I think of one of the first poems I heard by Ogden Nash and realize this kind of thing has probably been going on some time:
The Cat - Ogden Nash
You get a wife, you get a house,
Eventually you get a mouse.
You get some words regarding mice,
You get a kitty in a trice.
By two a.m. or thereabouts,
The mouse is in, the cat is out.
It dawns upon you, in your cot,
The mouse is silent, the cat is not.
Instead of kitty, says your spouse,
You should have got another mouse.
...dave
Never try to baptize a cat. - Laura, Age 13
At first we ignored him, then chased him off our porch, but in the end we gave in and started feeding him. He just kept coming back and no one claimed him. My wife thought he had such a good personality, which isn't saying much compared to the cat we already have.
We call him Taco but we really don't know what his name is. We've placed a collar around his neck to show some ownership I guess. We've even plugged in a heating pad and placed it on the lounge outside so that he can keep warm in some of these 40-degree nights. Fact is, I've kind of grown attached to him, whatever attachment a human can have to a cat. I've heard it said that humans don't own cats, cats own humans. It's crazy I know but it's really true. Humans can own dogs but not cats.
Cats and dogs are such opposites. A dog's wagging tail says that it's happy, but a wagging tail on a cat says it's mad. Ears pulled back on a dog shows it's submissive, but on a cat it means it's angry. A growl from a dog says it's mad, but the cat's growl or purr says it's content.
Anyway, back to Taco. We've started this ritual of feeding this animal inside. At first I told my wife to keep it outside because we don't know where it's been. I was quickly overruled when we heard the food bowl scooting across the back porch one night. We saw the outline of what we thought was a new cat voraciously eating the remaining cat food. When we flicked on the porch light we discovered the large "cat" had a hairless tail, ah, that is, it was an opossum! This thing was fearless. When I opened the door to chase him away he peered up at me and then looked at my feet. I slammed the door, afraid he was going to scamper in to take a look around the inside of our house. We tried fixing the back fence but he kept coming back. It wasn't until we started bringing the food indoors that he stopped coming by.
So Taco comes in to eat now but lounges on the back porch, on the lounge of course. This morning I poured his food, he only like it dry, opened the back door, and he waltzed right in.
Now, after eating, he meows. He wants to go out. And his meow is not a soft, gentle sort of cry, but it's loud and ugly. When I peeked around the corner to see what was up, Snickers, our other cat, is pestering him. This was causing his plea for the exit. I heard from another neighbor that someone else tried to adopt Taco. When then invited him in for a meal their other four cats attacked him. So I guess he'd rather dine and dash than hang around for a beating from the resident cat.
Truth is, Snickers doesn't attack him. Snickers just sits there looking while Taco eats, a kind of subtle intimidation tactic. Snickers stands about two and a half feet away and stares at him. Then he'll sit and wrap his tail around his paws, his eyes are big, and just stare him down. All the while Taco goes on eating, with an occasional glance up at the Snickers cat.
This morning I saw Snickers try a different tack. He was stretched out on his side, just two and a half feet away, end of tail slapping the wood floor. After Taco ate he settled down some, on his haunches. He hunched down and wrapped his tail around his body and just kept staring at the back door casing, the crack where some breeze comes through. Then Snickers got up and sniffed around the plants to the back of Taco, just about two feet away. Taco watched him. Snickers knows he has no business by the plants but he just uses it as an excuse to roam behind Taco. I know just what he's doing and say: "Snickers" in a warning tone. He backs off.
But he's already spooked Taco and now Taco starts his moaning meow. It's such a piercing sound, like fingernails on a blackboard, that I have to let him out.
He returns to his lounge out back to wait for the next hunger pang.
I think of one of the first poems I heard by Ogden Nash and realize this kind of thing has probably been going on some time:
The Cat - Ogden Nash
You get a wife, you get a house,
Eventually you get a mouse.
You get some words regarding mice,
You get a kitty in a trice.
By two a.m. or thereabouts,
The mouse is in, the cat is out.
It dawns upon you, in your cot,
The mouse is silent, the cat is not.
Instead of kitty, says your spouse,
You should have got another mouse.
...dave
Never try to baptize a cat. - Laura, Age 13
Friday, January 14, 2005
No Dollars, No Cents
No one uses dollar bills anymore and change is rarer.
I got to thinking about this oddness when I came in to work today. I have a special card that I use for the company cafeteria. You put money into a machine and it recharges the card. The card has a little chip on it that the registers read and subtract your purchases from the balance. These registers will not accept cash of any kind, not even coins. Uncle Sam's money is not viable. It's no good. So you have to recharge the cards at little machines on the ground floor before going in to the eating place.
Now in order to recharge your card you need the correct currency. That's right, not just any currency will do, only specific currency. Of course, the machines accept twenties and tens and even fives, but not ones. It used to be that if I ran out of cash, I could find a dollar somewhere or scrounge around my desk drawer where I could usually find some coins for breakfast. Ah, that is, for buying breakfast. Anyway, the recharging machines will not accept dollar bills and will not accept coins, and as I think I mentioned, the folks at the registers won't accept ANY cash.
If you are out of cash to recharge the card (or I should say out of the acceptable denomination to recharge the card), you must go to one of the company's ATM machines. While the ATMs are convenient, they charge you a dollar and fifty cents when they give you your cash, which is discharged from it's slot in twenties.
So, I can't use cash at the registers, and I can't use low denominations or coins to recharge the cards. And this is just my dilemma at work, don't get me started on the car wash where only quarters are acceptable.
I think I'll go mad.
...dave
Help stamp out and eradicate superfluous redundancy.
I got to thinking about this oddness when I came in to work today. I have a special card that I use for the company cafeteria. You put money into a machine and it recharges the card. The card has a little chip on it that the registers read and subtract your purchases from the balance. These registers will not accept cash of any kind, not even coins. Uncle Sam's money is not viable. It's no good. So you have to recharge the cards at little machines on the ground floor before going in to the eating place.
Now in order to recharge your card you need the correct currency. That's right, not just any currency will do, only specific currency. Of course, the machines accept twenties and tens and even fives, but not ones. It used to be that if I ran out of cash, I could find a dollar somewhere or scrounge around my desk drawer where I could usually find some coins for breakfast. Ah, that is, for buying breakfast. Anyway, the recharging machines will not accept dollar bills and will not accept coins, and as I think I mentioned, the folks at the registers won't accept ANY cash.
If you are out of cash to recharge the card (or I should say out of the acceptable denomination to recharge the card), you must go to one of the company's ATM machines. While the ATMs are convenient, they charge you a dollar and fifty cents when they give you your cash, which is discharged from it's slot in twenties.
So, I can't use cash at the registers, and I can't use low denominations or coins to recharge the cards. And this is just my dilemma at work, don't get me started on the car wash where only quarters are acceptable.
I think I'll go mad.
...dave
Help stamp out and eradicate superfluous redundancy.
Thursday, January 13, 2005
Lunchtime
It's lunch time and I've got to find something to eat.
I didn't bring anything since my wife is away in Hawaii. She always fixes me something and puts it into a brown bag. When I get up and leave at 6:20 I just reach in to the fridge and grab the brown bag, stuff it into my Lands End canvas, and drive off. Now that she's not here what am I going to eat. And I'm out of cash. Ruth usually gives me an allowance at the start of the week but she's not here and....never mind.
I do carry a cafeteria card but it only has 98 cents left on it. I used it this morning for breakfast. I charged a whole $1.04 for a cup of oatmeal but with the new balance I can't afford anything in the cafeteria until I recharge the card. These are tough times. Let me look around the office to see what I can dig up. I could make a sign and hold it up near my cube "Will work for food." Wait a minute I AM working.
Wait, there's some cheese in the small fridge we keep in the side office. Hmmm, no chips, no sandwich, what else do I have here. Hey, here's some microwave popcorn. Yeah, popcorn and cheese, a little tea, that could work.
So here I relax with popcorn (using chopsticks so that I don't get the keyboard greasy), slices of cheese and a cup of tea. A well-rounded lunch fur sure.
...dave
One Cannibal to the other: "I hate my mother-in-law."
Reply: "Well then just eat your peas and carrots."
I didn't bring anything since my wife is away in Hawaii. She always fixes me something and puts it into a brown bag. When I get up and leave at 6:20 I just reach in to the fridge and grab the brown bag, stuff it into my Lands End canvas, and drive off. Now that she's not here what am I going to eat. And I'm out of cash. Ruth usually gives me an allowance at the start of the week but she's not here and....never mind.
I do carry a cafeteria card but it only has 98 cents left on it. I used it this morning for breakfast. I charged a whole $1.04 for a cup of oatmeal but with the new balance I can't afford anything in the cafeteria until I recharge the card. These are tough times. Let me look around the office to see what I can dig up. I could make a sign and hold it up near my cube "Will work for food." Wait a minute I AM working.
Wait, there's some cheese in the small fridge we keep in the side office. Hmmm, no chips, no sandwich, what else do I have here. Hey, here's some microwave popcorn. Yeah, popcorn and cheese, a little tea, that could work.
So here I relax with popcorn (using chopsticks so that I don't get the keyboard greasy), slices of cheese and a cup of tea. A well-rounded lunch fur sure.
...dave
One Cannibal to the other: "I hate my mother-in-law."
Reply: "Well then just eat your peas and carrots."
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
Adventure Capitalist
I've been reading Adventure Capitalist by Jim Rogers. He's a multi-millionaire that traveled through 116 countries with his bride in a custom Mercedes SLK with trailer.
While his objective was in search of international investments there's a lot of great travel information and interesting stories.
Like the time he forgot about some vodka in his medical kit when entering Saudi Arabia. The last tourist found with alcohol was whipped eighty strokes. Jim told him: "Oh, my god. I forgot about that. We don't want that. Get rid of it. Destroy it."
They took him in to see the commander who told him to sign a form authorizing them to destroy the small bottle. He did so quickly before they had a chance to change their mind. They then took him outside where they poured it out and threw the bottle into the sand.
You can read about his complete three-year adventure here.
Another book by Jim Rogers is Investment Biker. This is about his first road trip across the world on a BMW motorcycle.
I really need to get out of this office.
...dave
The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page. -Augustine (354-430)
While his objective was in search of international investments there's a lot of great travel information and interesting stories.
Like the time he forgot about some vodka in his medical kit when entering Saudi Arabia. The last tourist found with alcohol was whipped eighty strokes. Jim told him: "Oh, my god. I forgot about that. We don't want that. Get rid of it. Destroy it."
They took him in to see the commander who told him to sign a form authorizing them to destroy the small bottle. He did so quickly before they had a chance to change their mind. They then took him outside where they poured it out and threw the bottle into the sand.
You can read about his complete three-year adventure here.
Another book by Jim Rogers is Investment Biker. This is about his first road trip across the world on a BMW motorcycle.
I really need to get out of this office.
...dave
The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page. -Augustine (354-430)
Monday, January 10, 2005
Airplane doors
I just can't figure this out. The plane landed, we've taxied to the gate, what's so hard about opening the door. Why does it take so long? Are they training someone new?
It's no surprise that we arrived. I mean, our flight was on their list, air traffic controllers knew we were arriving, they said we could land, they certainly saw us come down the runway and taxi in to the gate. Come on people, the plane has landed and we want to get off.
I am NOT impatient, I just drank a full bottle of water over an hour ago. The captain switched on the seat belt sign earlier because of turbulence. Yikes. Can't we hurry it up?
Let's open those doors people!
...dave
An optimist invented the airplane; a pessimist the parachute.
It's no surprise that we arrived. I mean, our flight was on their list, air traffic controllers knew we were arriving, they said we could land, they certainly saw us come down the runway and taxi in to the gate. Come on people, the plane has landed and we want to get off.
I am NOT impatient, I just drank a full bottle of water over an hour ago. The captain switched on the seat belt sign earlier because of turbulence. Yikes. Can't we hurry it up?
Let's open those doors people!
...dave
An optimist invented the airplane; a pessimist the parachute.
Saturday, January 08, 2005
A Humorous Family
I'm a lucky guy because of my great family. I'm sure everyone else feels the same way about their families. I guess that's what makes life so enjoyable. Having families that you can share experiences with and talk about them years later is the stuff memories are made of. That's the stuff LIFE is made of.
Of course, friends are good. Sometimes friends become families. But blood is blood, nothing's thicker than blood. Over the years I've been with other families that I thought I wanted to be a part of. You know how it is. You visit some close friend who introduces you to their family members and you think, Wow, now this would be a great family to be a member of. Because when you stop to think about some of the warts of your own family you decide that you want to apply for citizenship into another.
But not me, I'm so happy to have the family I have. I wouldn't trade any single one of them for another person. And my family appreciates humor. I love humor. I guess I grew up with lots of funny people. This struck me as we celebrated my uncle Richard and aunt Trudy's 50th wedding anniversary. Every family member that got up to 'share a few words' was funny, really funny.
My dad kicked off the celebration. He used the poor-me-younger-brother strategy to curry favor with the attendees. It worked. Since he was the third of the children he got the hand-me-downs from big brother and was generally tormented by him he claimed.
Dad said he was visiting with several here in attendance (there were 100 in all) and some had questions, especially about my uncle Richard. So dad compiled the ten most frequently ask questions. Leveraging a story someone else told about Richard acting mentally challenged when going with them to buy a car, one of the questions was:
Q: Is it true Richard acts mentally challenged when purchasing a car so as to get the best deal. Answer: No, he's always been like that.
And a few more:
Q: Is it true that Richard built a room for Paul (his son) out of the family garage for only $280? A: Yes, but guess who did the work?
Q: Why do you think all these friends came tonight and say good things about Richard and Trudy? A: Because of Trudy.
Q: How did Trudy end up with a guy like Richard? A: We do not know, but the family is very happy about it.
Well, you get the idea. Mom got up and had some touching things to say about Trudy. And each person afterward gave a brief experience or heart wrenching story of how either or both had helped them in their life.
Steve and Paul, my cousins, MC'd the show and they were also funny. To fill in time just after the cake cutting Paul says:
'I can tell you a little about the cake. This is a three-tiered cake, sometimes called tri-layered. It's got icing, white icing, and it's a cake, a white cake. The exterior of the cake is white. That's about all I know about the cake, other than it's a three-tiered or tri-layered affair, delicious in nature I believe. You may be getting some later tonight.'
Then it was Richard and Trudy's turn to get up and 'say a few words.'
Richard's first words were: 'Thank you for coming, and on the way out please feel free to pick up the wallet-sized pictures of us and sign the book for the free botox consultation opportunity.'
And Trudy says: 'Thanks for coming. We really appreciate you being here to share this event. There were many we wanted to invite but you are special to us, just think you were in the top 100!'
Naomi and Mary arranged to have this celebration on a golf course in a Spanish villa-like building complete with wrought iron gates that separated the main dining area and the bar. The tables had linen table cloths with gold sheer coverings and candles. Tall glass center pieces wreathed in green vines gave an elegant touch to the room.
Finally the kids, Steve, Paul and Naomi presented a 20 minute slide show, with music, of Richard and Trudy's history. Starting with each of them as children, the slides showed them growing up and then the kids growing up, and finally the other Terry families good times together. I was in a few of the frames, ah, because I'm a Terry I guess, and it dawned on me then what a great family we have.
From the Death Valley trips in the three Cadillacs to the back yard BBQs there was always fun to be had with the family. We never lacked anything materially and usually had more than our share although we were not wealthy by any stretch of the imagination.
There is so much more to tell but suffice to say, a great family is the stuff life is made of. (Would that be a great quote?)
...dave
Happiness is having a large, loving, caring, close-knit family in another city. -George Burns (1896 - 1996)
Of course, friends are good. Sometimes friends become families. But blood is blood, nothing's thicker than blood. Over the years I've been with other families that I thought I wanted to be a part of. You know how it is. You visit some close friend who introduces you to their family members and you think, Wow, now this would be a great family to be a member of. Because when you stop to think about some of the warts of your own family you decide that you want to apply for citizenship into another.
But not me, I'm so happy to have the family I have. I wouldn't trade any single one of them for another person. And my family appreciates humor. I love humor. I guess I grew up with lots of funny people. This struck me as we celebrated my uncle Richard and aunt Trudy's 50th wedding anniversary. Every family member that got up to 'share a few words' was funny, really funny.
My dad kicked off the celebration. He used the poor-me-younger-brother strategy to curry favor with the attendees. It worked. Since he was the third of the children he got the hand-me-downs from big brother and was generally tormented by him he claimed.
Dad said he was visiting with several here in attendance (there were 100 in all) and some had questions, especially about my uncle Richard. So dad compiled the ten most frequently ask questions. Leveraging a story someone else told about Richard acting mentally challenged when going with them to buy a car, one of the questions was:
Q: Is it true Richard acts mentally challenged when purchasing a car so as to get the best deal. Answer: No, he's always been like that.
And a few more:
Q: Is it true that Richard built a room for Paul (his son) out of the family garage for only $280? A: Yes, but guess who did the work?
Q: Why do you think all these friends came tonight and say good things about Richard and Trudy? A: Because of Trudy.
Q: How did Trudy end up with a guy like Richard? A: We do not know, but the family is very happy about it.
Well, you get the idea. Mom got up and had some touching things to say about Trudy. And each person afterward gave a brief experience or heart wrenching story of how either or both had helped them in their life.
Steve and Paul, my cousins, MC'd the show and they were also funny. To fill in time just after the cake cutting Paul says:
'I can tell you a little about the cake. This is a three-tiered cake, sometimes called tri-layered. It's got icing, white icing, and it's a cake, a white cake. The exterior of the cake is white. That's about all I know about the cake, other than it's a three-tiered or tri-layered affair, delicious in nature I believe. You may be getting some later tonight.'
Then it was Richard and Trudy's turn to get up and 'say a few words.'
Richard's first words were: 'Thank you for coming, and on the way out please feel free to pick up the wallet-sized pictures of us and sign the book for the free botox consultation opportunity.'
And Trudy says: 'Thanks for coming. We really appreciate you being here to share this event. There were many we wanted to invite but you are special to us, just think you were in the top 100!'
Naomi and Mary arranged to have this celebration on a golf course in a Spanish villa-like building complete with wrought iron gates that separated the main dining area and the bar. The tables had linen table cloths with gold sheer coverings and candles. Tall glass center pieces wreathed in green vines gave an elegant touch to the room.
Finally the kids, Steve, Paul and Naomi presented a 20 minute slide show, with music, of Richard and Trudy's history. Starting with each of them as children, the slides showed them growing up and then the kids growing up, and finally the other Terry families good times together. I was in a few of the frames, ah, because I'm a Terry I guess, and it dawned on me then what a great family we have.
From the Death Valley trips in the three Cadillacs to the back yard BBQs there was always fun to be had with the family. We never lacked anything materially and usually had more than our share although we were not wealthy by any stretch of the imagination.
There is so much more to tell but suffice to say, a great family is the stuff life is made of. (Would that be a great quote?)
...dave
Happiness is having a large, loving, caring, close-knit family in another city. -George Burns (1896 - 1996)
Friday, January 07, 2005
Emily
That's the name of my folk's cat. She's black and white and a real cutie.
When we arrived she was sitting atop some boxes in the garage. As the car pulled in she didn't scamper off, she calmly rose and watched the front end of the car approach the end of the garage.
I kind of forgot about her but the next time I saw her she was curled on the guest bed on Eric's jacket. We gave her a stroke down her back. She is silky smooth. By contrast, when we attempt to pet Snickers, our cat, he just pulls away; because if it's not HIS idea he doesn't want any part of it. Hmmm, kinda like some of the people I work with. But I digress.
Snickers is also black and white but there the similarity ends. We've always used food names for our animals but don't ask me Why. We've had Snickers, Oreo, Ginger, and even Potatoe Chip (the mouse), but that's another story.
Anyway, back to Emily. She stayed right there on the bed (I assume waiting for us) until we climbed in for sleep at 3:30 am. She didn't move all night because when I woke up in the morning, she was in the same place her paws tucked in under her.
I reached over and picked her up (she must be 10 lbs lighter than Snickers) and she settled down on my chest, gave her paw a lick, and rested her head on my ribs.
If I swap cats, you think the folks will notice?
...dave
The trouble with a kitty is that, eventually it becomes a cat. -Ogden
Nash
When we arrived she was sitting atop some boxes in the garage. As the car pulled in she didn't scamper off, she calmly rose and watched the front end of the car approach the end of the garage.
I kind of forgot about her but the next time I saw her she was curled on the guest bed on Eric's jacket. We gave her a stroke down her back. She is silky smooth. By contrast, when we attempt to pet Snickers, our cat, he just pulls away; because if it's not HIS idea he doesn't want any part of it. Hmmm, kinda like some of the people I work with. But I digress.
Snickers is also black and white but there the similarity ends. We've always used food names for our animals but don't ask me Why. We've had Snickers, Oreo, Ginger, and even Potatoe Chip (the mouse), but that's another story.
Anyway, back to Emily. She stayed right there on the bed (I assume waiting for us) until we climbed in for sleep at 3:30 am. She didn't move all night because when I woke up in the morning, she was in the same place her paws tucked in under her.
I reached over and picked her up (she must be 10 lbs lighter than Snickers) and she settled down on my chest, gave her paw a lick, and rested her head on my ribs.
If I swap cats, you think the folks will notice?
...dave
The trouble with a kitty is that, eventually it becomes a cat. -Ogden
Nash
Thursday, January 06, 2005
Lunchtime peace
I went to my usual Borders to read and study at lunch and I was fine for a time. The classical music plays in the background just below conscious thought, and there's a light coffee aroma in the air.
It lasts until a mother leaves her three kids who decide to use the reading couch for a gymnasium. Now they roll up magazines and use them as megaphones. Don't get me wrong, I love kids, but not the loud noisy kind that climbs on leather couches at Borders.
I realize now the mother is far away and the kids are left to find their own entertainment. This is NOT ending anytime soon. Where is the mother? I leave Borders.
I decide to drive to a spot in our office parking deck. I should be able to park in a space where I can get some peace and quiet. I find a place at the edge where the light is best for reading. I'm on the seventh floor. Ah, peace, quiet, at last.
Except they begin unloading a semi-truck below and each time the hand truck vibrates up and down the corrugated ramp to fetch the next pallet, I jump from my reclined driver's seat. Wait, it's stopped. I guess they are done.
All quiet now, the truck has left. I'm back to my book, a place where I get lost in thought. Oh no, a car alarm has just gone off, now a helicopter is over head, a forklift's reverse beeper, and a car's squealing tires up the on ramp.
It's just too difficult to escape. My lunch is over. I've got to find another place next time.
...dave
Dreaming permits me to be quiet and safely insane every night of my life.
It lasts until a mother leaves her three kids who decide to use the reading couch for a gymnasium. Now they roll up magazines and use them as megaphones. Don't get me wrong, I love kids, but not the loud noisy kind that climbs on leather couches at Borders.
I realize now the mother is far away and the kids are left to find their own entertainment. This is NOT ending anytime soon. Where is the mother? I leave Borders.
I decide to drive to a spot in our office parking deck. I should be able to park in a space where I can get some peace and quiet. I find a place at the edge where the light is best for reading. I'm on the seventh floor. Ah, peace, quiet, at last.
Except they begin unloading a semi-truck below and each time the hand truck vibrates up and down the corrugated ramp to fetch the next pallet, I jump from my reclined driver's seat. Wait, it's stopped. I guess they are done.
All quiet now, the truck has left. I'm back to my book, a place where I get lost in thought. Oh no, a car alarm has just gone off, now a helicopter is over head, a forklift's reverse beeper, and a car's squealing tires up the on ramp.
It's just too difficult to escape. My lunch is over. I've got to find another place next time.
...dave
Dreaming permits me to be quiet and safely insane every night of my life.
Wednesday, January 05, 2005
My Everyday Writing Pen
The Namiki Vanishing Point
(VP) is my everyday pen. It's a click-style fountain pen. If you like writing with fountain pens but hate the two-handed capped fountain pen operation, the VP is for you. It's a very smooth writing pen and comes with a gold nib.
There are three nib sizes. I use a medium nib, which is a fine by most people's standards because the nibs run a little smaller than other fountain pens. You can buy extra nibs for $25 each at www.nibs.com. You can also purchase italic and stub nibs from the same place.
You can get the pens in four main colors as well as more expensive casings. In addition, the clips and ends come finished in yellow gold or platinum for those of you who prefer a silver color.
These pens are a bit expensive. Retail they run about $120 but you can often find good deals on the Internet or eBay. I bought one on eBay for about $38.
These pens are engineered by the Japanese so the quality is unequaled. Fit and finish is perfect. No other company makes anything similar. I've had mine for several years and they look as good a new. I use my red VP every single day for work and journals.
These are smooth writers. Even on the airplane these pens glide as smooth as glass and they never leak. Since the nib protrudes out of the top of the pen, the nib always points up and is retracted when in your pocket.
I sometimes use different pens, but always come back to my Namiki VP. I actually bought two others so that I don't have to change nibs, I just change pens. They are truly incredible writing instruments.
...dave
If you think education is expensive, Try Ignorance! - Andy McIntyre
(VP) is my everyday pen. It's a click-style fountain pen. If you like writing with fountain pens but hate the two-handed capped fountain pen operation, the VP is for you. It's a very smooth writing pen and comes with a gold nib. 
There are three nib sizes. I use a medium nib, which is a fine by most people's standards because the nibs run a little smaller than other fountain pens. You can buy extra nibs for $25 each at www.nibs.com. You can also purchase italic and stub nibs from the same place.
You can get the pens in four main colors as well as more expensive casings. In addition, the clips and ends come finished in yellow gold or platinum for those of you who prefer a silver color.
These pens are a bit expensive. Retail they run about $120 but you can often find good deals on the Internet or eBay. I bought one on eBay for about $38.
These pens are engineered by the Japanese so the quality is unequaled. Fit and finish is perfect. No other company makes anything similar. I've had mine for several years and they look as good a new. I use my red VP every single day for work and journals.
These are smooth writers. Even on the airplane these pens glide as smooth as glass and they never leak. Since the nib protrudes out of the top of the pen, the nib always points up and is retracted when in your pocket.
I sometimes use different pens, but always come back to my Namiki VP. I actually bought two others so that I don't have to change nibs, I just change pens. They are truly incredible writing instruments.
...dave
If you think education is expensive, Try Ignorance! - Andy McIntyre
Monday, January 03, 2005
A New Writing Journal
I know it sounds crazy but I look forward to the new year because a new year always means that I purchase a new journal.
I've tried many different formats for daily journals, pre-dated versions, pre-dated with days of the week (expensive), and blank. The pre-dated ones never have enough pages. Some days I'll journal past a page. (Yes, it's true, SOME days ARE exciting.) But the pre-dated type lock you in to a page-a-day.
I've tried several blank journals. Borders and Barnes and Nobles have quite a selection. Amazon's got 179 of them! Just key "blank journal" in the search box and you'll get a huge selection. Some of the $30 and $40 journals I've found at Barnes and Nobles are very cool. I've spent hours on web sites browsing great journals. You know the ones, leather bound, gilded edges, a red ribbon bookmark. They are often laying open on a walnut desk with a pair of reading glasses and a quill pen laying on top. Yeah, it's cool, if not a little frilly. Nope those are not for me. I've finally settled on one kind of daily journal that works.
It's a simple black leather book with white stitching. It's 5.5x8.25 inches. I found it in our local Borders here in Atlanta. It's got about 400 pages in it, so I can record more than a page some days should I want to. Generally I stamp the date ahead of time on each page. This ensures that I don't miss a date as I march through the year. (One year I didn't pre-stamp and tried to write the date at the top each day but got the date wrong in one entry and didn't discover it for three or four days. Then I had to go back and scratch out the previous dates and write the correct one. This happened several times through the year. What a mess.)
With this book I also have a few pages in the back where I keep indexes or lists. I dedicate a page for each of the following:
Books I've read
Interesting entries
Quotes I want to remember
Trips lists
I use some of the extra pages for drawings or spillover from the daily journal entries in front. When I want to write more than a page, I'll note that the entry continues in the back and give the page number. (Oh yeah, forgot to mention that the pages that I haven't stamped the date on get a sequential number so that I can refer to that page number in any of the daily journal entries.)
That's it. This works for me. The journal is small enough to put in my carry-on. No, it'll never go with the checked on baggage. I did that once and got a scare when I thought they had mis-delivered the bags. I can do without extra clothes but NOT without the journal.
The cover is also pliable, so that I can clip a pen inside and close it, if I need to stop in mid-entry writing. Best of all, this journal lasts the entire year without falling apart. I guess I could purchase a refillable journal but they tend to be too bulky. After many years of journaling, I've settled on this specific journal. But what would I do if Borders quit carrying this blank book?
...dave
I did NOT escape, they gave me a day pass.
Sunday, January 02, 2005
Chinese Lunch
We were gallivanting yesterday and got a little hungry so stopped by a huge Chinese shopping center. There are endless rows of produce, rows of products, and lots of Chinese. I also saw many Caucasian men shopping with their Asian wives. We went to the back where they were passing out samples just like at Costco, er, well, except the samples themselves were NOTHING like Costco's.
A man in a butcher's smock was handing out small, warm Tortillas and motioned to his little table of hot sauce and fish. Ruth made a wrap for me while I looked for a cart for all our stuff. When I got back everyone is standing around munching. I took a crunchy bite. What is this? Ruth whispers she doesn't like it. It felt as though I was grinding fish bones. I kept grinding.
I thought of what a friend said that spent five years in Taiwan:
"When I first went to the Chinese market I was appalled at what these folks were eating. But then I thought: They are surviving. No one's is dying here. Once I came to that conclusion I was fine."
So I kept chewing, what could I do? There was no spit bucket and I didn't want to offend. But I was looking for something to clear my palate. We passed two Chinese kids and their mom viewing the tank of eels.
Sushi. A Japanese man was making sushi plate lunches. The way the Japanese arrange their food is half the pleasure. He was making large sushi plates of twenty or so sushi slices. Some of this even my dad would like. Like the one that was simple rice sprinkled with sesame seeds stuffed with cucumber and avocado.
Shopping Chinese style
It didn't last past the parking lot.
We tore open the plastic wrap, emptied the shoyo, mixed the wasabi, laced a sliver of ginger on top, dipped and downed each mouth-watering bite.
...dave
Never eat more than you can lift. - Miss Piggy
A man in a butcher's smock was handing out small, warm Tortillas and motioned to his little table of hot sauce and fish. Ruth made a wrap for me while I looked for a cart for all our stuff. When I got back everyone is standing around munching. I took a crunchy bite. What is this? Ruth whispers she doesn't like it. It felt as though I was grinding fish bones. I kept grinding.
I thought of what a friend said that spent five years in Taiwan:
"When I first went to the Chinese market I was appalled at what these folks were eating. But then I thought: They are surviving. No one's is dying here. Once I came to that conclusion I was fine."
So I kept chewing, what could I do? There was no spit bucket and I didn't want to offend. But I was looking for something to clear my palate. We passed two Chinese kids and their mom viewing the tank of eels.
Sushi. A Japanese man was making sushi plate lunches. The way the Japanese arrange their food is half the pleasure. He was making large sushi plates of twenty or so sushi slices. Some of this even my dad would like. Like the one that was simple rice sprinkled with sesame seeds stuffed with cucumber and avocado.
Shopping Chinese style
It didn't last past the parking lot.
We tore open the plastic wrap, emptied the shoyo, mixed the wasabi, laced a sliver of ginger on top, dipped and downed each mouth-watering bite.
...dave
Never eat more than you can lift. - Miss Piggy
Poetry
I'm not a very good poet but have tried some poems. Mostly on my family because they'll tollerate it. I mean, think about it. What are they going to do if I write a poem for them and they don't like it? Disown me? That's the great thing about families, they're so forgiving.
...dave
Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal. - T. S. Eliot (1888-1965)
...dave
Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal. - T. S. Eliot (1888-1965)
Saturday, January 01, 2005
Filler 'er up
Okay, everyone complains about how expensive gas is
per gallon these days but let's do some calculations.
Diet Snapple 16 oz $1.29 ... $10.32 per gallon
Gatorade 20 oz $1.59 ... $10.17 per gallon
Evian water 9 oz $1.49 ... $21.19 per gallon
Whiteout 7 oz $1.39 ... $25.42 per gallon
Brake Fluid 12 oz $3.15 ... $33.60 per gallon
Scope 1.5 oz $0.99 ... $84.48 per gallon
Pepto Bismol 4 oz $3.85 ... $123.20 per gallon
Vick's Nyquil 6 oz $8.35 ... $178.13 per gallon
I guess it's a good thing cars DON'T run on Nyquil or
even H2O!
...dave
Alimony is like pumping gas into another man's car.
per gallon these days but let's do some calculations.
Diet Snapple 16 oz $1.29 ... $10.32 per gallon
Gatorade 20 oz $1.59 ... $10.17 per gallon
Evian water 9 oz $1.49 ... $21.19 per gallon
Whiteout 7 oz $1.39 ... $25.42 per gallon
Brake Fluid 12 oz $3.15 ... $33.60 per gallon
Scope 1.5 oz $0.99 ... $84.48 per gallon
Pepto Bismol 4 oz $3.85 ... $123.20 per gallon
Vick's Nyquil 6 oz $8.35 ... $178.13 per gallon
I guess it's a good thing cars DON'T run on Nyquil or
even H2O!
...dave
Alimony is like pumping gas into another man's car.
A Chinese Wedding
Just doing errands when we decide to stop for a quick snack. There's a great Chinese place that serves some crunchy sushi. They call it kani sushi (stuffed with crab). It's stuff to die for. The Chinese girl takes our order and we wait in the empty place. It's only 4:00 p.m. We find out she's going to school in Massachusetts but has come down for the holidays to help out at the restaurant.
Chinese kids are playing outside and grandma is watching them as the girls attend to the restaurant.
We are drinking green tea when a big local guy walks in with a binder under his arm. He makes a beeline for the cashier who he recognizes from a year ago. Right off he tells her he's dating a Chinese woman. Then he says he proposed to her just last week when he was in China. She asks him the typical questions you'd ask a 50ish man who's just told you he is going to marry one of your people. "How did you meet her?" "Does she speak English?" "Is she coming here?"
"I met her on the Internet. She doesn't speak any English but we get along just fine, you know, nod, and look at each other in the eyes. You can communicate in other ways besides words you know. Hell, I was married to my wife for 25 years, we talked all the time but never communicated. She writes English just fine because we've been writing on the Internet for several months. We went to the Great Wall."
This whole dialogue came tumbling out in nearly one sentence. All the while the young girl behind the cash register smiled politely, giggled occasionally, and interjected "Oh" and "Ah huh" at random places. She was as surprised as I was.
"Here, I have some pictures of the trip and wedding." With that he opened the big black three-ring binder, and they began paging through the pictures. He's pointing to the relatives.
I can't believe this guy. Has he any idea what he's in for? I can't believe that the woman from China has any idea what she's going to find. He said he's working on the VISA now and hopes it'll be complete in six months.
I didn't get the impression this man had any idea of the culture of the Chinese. He spent two weeks there.
It also seemed strange that he'd share all this with a stranger here in a Chinese restaurant. Or that he'd be this open with customers eating nearby? Doesn't it seem odd that he'd carry a binder around?
How crazy is this?
...dave
A good past is the best future.
Chinese kids are playing outside and grandma is watching them as the girls attend to the restaurant.
We are drinking green tea when a big local guy walks in with a binder under his arm. He makes a beeline for the cashier who he recognizes from a year ago. Right off he tells her he's dating a Chinese woman. Then he says he proposed to her just last week when he was in China. She asks him the typical questions you'd ask a 50ish man who's just told you he is going to marry one of your people. "How did you meet her?" "Does she speak English?" "Is she coming here?"
"I met her on the Internet. She doesn't speak any English but we get along just fine, you know, nod, and look at each other in the eyes. You can communicate in other ways besides words you know. Hell, I was married to my wife for 25 years, we talked all the time but never communicated. She writes English just fine because we've been writing on the Internet for several months. We went to the Great Wall."
This whole dialogue came tumbling out in nearly one sentence. All the while the young girl behind the cash register smiled politely, giggled occasionally, and interjected "Oh" and "Ah huh" at random places. She was as surprised as I was.
"Here, I have some pictures of the trip and wedding." With that he opened the big black three-ring binder, and they began paging through the pictures. He's pointing to the relatives.
I can't believe this guy. Has he any idea what he's in for? I can't believe that the woman from China has any idea what she's going to find. He said he's working on the VISA now and hopes it'll be complete in six months.
I didn't get the impression this man had any idea of the culture of the Chinese. He spent two weeks there.
It also seemed strange that he'd share all this with a stranger here in a Chinese restaurant. Or that he'd be this open with customers eating nearby? Doesn't it seem odd that he'd carry a binder around?
How crazy is this?
...dave
A good past is the best future.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)