Store Walk
Today I was asked to check out one of our stores. I went along with two others. Our job was to determine the number of computers and what was running on each one.
When we opened some of the computer cabinets, we found filthy interiors. Dust thick enough to use for packing material, forget bubble wrap. Lots of mouse droppings, enough to start a garden.
I got to thinking about why we don't have someone come around and clean these things out. My buddy said:
"Why don't we just have the cleaning folks clean these or even the janitor."
"Ah, somehow 2000 flushes and a toilet brush won't work here." I thought.
He was the one that discovered the "rat turds" actually. He's the kind of guy that says it like it is.
We discovered several other machines that looked like they didn't have a friend. Some of the beatings these things take is alarming. I asked them if anyone was contracted to clean these things out. No, they told me. Then I got to thinking about doing it myself. It could add up to a big chunk of change.
I'd be a dirty job but with the money I could bring in, I could drive away in a stretch.
...dave
I see you with disturbing clarity. - Dr. Phil
Monday, February 28, 2005
Sunday, February 27, 2005
Eric's Movie Assignment
Eric got an assignment from Ruth. When Ruth was in Hawaii she took her mother to Maui to kind of relive her childhood. Ruth shot some film of her mom and cousin telling old stories of when they were young. When they went to Maui, Ruth shot some more video of the area. Eric's job is to edit one and a half hours worth and piece it together with music.
As a precursor to that, he did this little movie. It really explains in pictures what Parkour is all about and it helped him learn some video editing in the process. So, sit back, get some popcorn and enjoy Eric's Movie.
Warning: This may take some time to download especially if you are on a dial up connection. It's worth it though.
I'll post the other movie when it's done.
...dave
"Every man dies but not every man really lives." - Braveheart
As a precursor to that, he did this little movie. It really explains in pictures what Parkour is all about and it helped him learn some video editing in the process. So, sit back, get some popcorn and enjoy Eric's Movie.
Warning: This may take some time to download especially if you are on a dial up connection. It's worth it though.
I'll post the other movie when it's done.
...dave
"Every man dies but not every man really lives." - Braveheart
Saturday, February 26, 2005
Monster Garage
Ruth has subscribed to NetFlix. It's an Internet DVD rental service. The initial month is $15 (they double it after that). You can rent as many DVDs as you want. The only catch is that you can only have three at any time. So, she rented the first three, and queued up the other shows she wants from their web site.
They sent us the DVDs which arrived in a day. After viewing the shows, we return them in the provided mailing sleeves and they send the next one in her wish list. The cool part is, the place is in Georgia and just about 20 minutes from us so the DVDs come in a day or so.
She has ordered me Monster Garage. The two programs that were on the Monster Garage DVD was "Switch Blade" a Mustang Mower ...
Switchblade
and Garbage Truck made out of a 1993 Ford Explorer.
Garbage Truck - 1993 Ford Explorer
Garbage Truck forks
When they finish the car or truck, it still must look stock but the inside reveals some "monster" design, like a three blade industrial lawn mower that slides out of the back of the Mustang. (Not shown here.)
Other creations:
"Zamboni" Delux
Grim Reaper (tomb digger) from a Meteor Cadillac hearse
Grim Reaper's Working End
Minor Mods to the Grim Reaper
Lincoln Stretch Firetruck
The firemen
Jesse James, of West Coast Choppers, is the main character. Great shows. Crazy guys. Most of the guys are famous hot rod or bike builders and designers. They are on the rough side. Most of them have tough guy tattoos on their biceps and sport rings or studs in their lips and ears.
Jesse James
The objective is that when they are done, the car looks stock (except for the paint and rims). They have just seven days to finish. Their budget is $3,000. Everything is fabricated in the garage.
...dave
"We were just going to rent a car and then take it back when were done." - Jesse James
They sent us the DVDs which arrived in a day. After viewing the shows, we return them in the provided mailing sleeves and they send the next one in her wish list. The cool part is, the place is in Georgia and just about 20 minutes from us so the DVDs come in a day or so.
She has ordered me Monster Garage. The two programs that were on the Monster Garage DVD was "Switch Blade" a Mustang Mower ...
Switchblade
and Garbage Truck made out of a 1993 Ford Explorer.
Garbage Truck - 1993 Ford Explorer
Garbage Truck forks
When they finish the car or truck, it still must look stock but the inside reveals some "monster" design, like a three blade industrial lawn mower that slides out of the back of the Mustang. (Not shown here.)
Other creations:
"Zamboni" Delux
Grim Reaper (tomb digger) from a Meteor Cadillac hearse
Grim Reaper's Working End
Minor Mods to the Grim Reaper
Lincoln Stretch Firetruck
The firemen
Jesse James, of West Coast Choppers, is the main character. Great shows. Crazy guys. Most of the guys are famous hot rod or bike builders and designers. They are on the rough side. Most of them have tough guy tattoos on their biceps and sport rings or studs in their lips and ears.
Jesse James
The objective is that when they are done, the car looks stock (except for the paint and rims). They have just seven days to finish. Their budget is $3,000. Everything is fabricated in the garage.
...dave
"We were just going to rent a car and then take it back when were done." - Jesse James
Friday, February 25, 2005
iBook
I write this with the new iBook. I'm finally moving over to the MACs. What's cool about this machine is that I can use it anywhere in the house. I don't need that big old Windows 2000 server anymore. I'll just load up a few drives and hang them off some USBs.
Now we are 66% MAC based. Ruth is the hold out. She's using software for her medical transcription work. I can't switch her over. I'd sure like to but since her software is provided by her company, there is nothing I can do to try to switch her over.
My problem then is trying to mix PCs and MACs in the same network. It's a real challenge, at least that's what I've discovered so far. Why these machines can't get along together peacefully on the same wiring is puzzling. I guess they reflect a similar condition among humans in general. They just can't get along on the same planet, the same country, the same state, and even in the same home! And just like the people that create these machines, it usually boils down to control. But I digress.
I tried several attempts to connect them but in the end decided that after I had spent over an hour, I was bailing. My new M.O. is that if I can't figure it out in an hour, I cut my losses. I figure that if it's too difficult for me to figure it out within the hour, it's too complex. You should really see the UI (user interface, the screens) on some of this junk software. Who writes this stuff? You need a PHD just to find the right button to push. And the sequence you have to follow to set it all up is like navigating an underground cavern without light. I even tried several attempts at the install. It's really a shame that such a cool idea is so poorly executed. I returned the products that promissed to make my life better but were just making it shorter.
I mean the whole point in moving to the MACs is simplification. If my life isn't getting simpler, then it doesn't deserve to exist in the house.
...dave
Computers can figure out all kinds of problems, except the things in the world that just don't add up. - James Magary
Now we are 66% MAC based. Ruth is the hold out. She's using software for her medical transcription work. I can't switch her over. I'd sure like to but since her software is provided by her company, there is nothing I can do to try to switch her over.
My problem then is trying to mix PCs and MACs in the same network. It's a real challenge, at least that's what I've discovered so far. Why these machines can't get along together peacefully on the same wiring is puzzling. I guess they reflect a similar condition among humans in general. They just can't get along on the same planet, the same country, the same state, and even in the same home! And just like the people that create these machines, it usually boils down to control. But I digress.
I tried several attempts to connect them but in the end decided that after I had spent over an hour, I was bailing. My new M.O. is that if I can't figure it out in an hour, I cut my losses. I figure that if it's too difficult for me to figure it out within the hour, it's too complex. You should really see the UI (user interface, the screens) on some of this junk software. Who writes this stuff? You need a PHD just to find the right button to push. And the sequence you have to follow to set it all up is like navigating an underground cavern without light. I even tried several attempts at the install. It's really a shame that such a cool idea is so poorly executed. I returned the products that promissed to make my life better but were just making it shorter.
I mean the whole point in moving to the MACs is simplification. If my life isn't getting simpler, then it doesn't deserve to exist in the house.
...dave
Computers can figure out all kinds of problems, except the things in the world that just don't add up. - James Magary
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Time for Tea
I know it sounds silly but I think I may have gone too far with my tea habit. I'm starting to leave cups all around the house. This may cause a divorce.
It's really innocent forgetfulness, really. But my wife finds evidence of my "habits" all around the house. I'll go to the guest room with a book and a cup, put the cup down, and leave it on the side table. I'll go back down the stairs, get another cup, walk up to the bathroom and leave it on the counter.
But it got really crazy when I started to walk into the shower with a cup of tea. I was actually looking for a place to set it. The soap alcove worked well. It was kind of nice to drink some tea while showering. Problem was, the sugar didn't mask the soap that splashed into the cup.
I may have gone too far this time.
...dave
I always fear that creation will expire before tea-time. - Sidney Smith
It's really innocent forgetfulness, really. But my wife finds evidence of my "habits" all around the house. I'll go to the guest room with a book and a cup, put the cup down, and leave it on the side table. I'll go back down the stairs, get another cup, walk up to the bathroom and leave it on the counter.
But it got really crazy when I started to walk into the shower with a cup of tea. I was actually looking for a place to set it. The soap alcove worked well. It was kind of nice to drink some tea while showering. Problem was, the sugar didn't mask the soap that splashed into the cup.
I may have gone too far this time.
...dave
I always fear that creation will expire before tea-time. - Sidney Smith
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
iMac
I was able to set up the machine by the time Eric arrived home. I wasn�t sure exactly what time he�d come in. I waited for the sound of the garage door.
Trouble is, these PCs make so much fan noise. I�m so glad we are getting rid of these clunkers! I had to shut them down so that I could hear my garage door. The iMac makes no noise at all.
You can go to www.apple.com and check out the iMac for yourself so I won�t bore you with all the slick stuff I found while setting us up on the machines. There is a real cool way that multiple people can be logged on to the machine at the same time. Say you are working on a document and one of your family members comes along and wants to browse the Internet. If you want to be nice, you just let them log in. The system will page out what you�re working on and swap in their desktop. If it�s confidential, they can�t see a thing. If you don�t want to be nice�well never mind.
Anyway, we heard the garage door around 11:00pm so we bounded up the stairs and waited on the landing.
Eric usually goes to his PC to check the mail. When he saw the machine all we could hear were loud wispers:
�No way. You�ve got to be kidding.�
We heard him open the little note we left and then heard:
�This is nuts. Oh my God!�
He came running up the stairs and hugged us and thanked us profusely. I think he�ll make good use of this new machine.
�dave
"Your children need your presence more than your presents." � Jesse Jackson
Trouble is, these PCs make so much fan noise. I�m so glad we are getting rid of these clunkers! I had to shut them down so that I could hear my garage door. The iMac makes no noise at all.
You can go to www.apple.com and check out the iMac for yourself so I won�t bore you with all the slick stuff I found while setting us up on the machines. There is a real cool way that multiple people can be logged on to the machine at the same time. Say you are working on a document and one of your family members comes along and wants to browse the Internet. If you want to be nice, you just let them log in. The system will page out what you�re working on and swap in their desktop. If it�s confidential, they can�t see a thing. If you don�t want to be nice�well never mind.
Anyway, we heard the garage door around 11:00pm so we bounded up the stairs and waited on the landing.
Eric usually goes to his PC to check the mail. When he saw the machine all we could hear were loud wispers:
�No way. You�ve got to be kidding.�
We heard him open the little note we left and then heard:
�This is nuts. Oh my God!�
He came running up the stairs and hugged us and thanked us profusely. I think he�ll make good use of this new machine.
�dave
"Your children need your presence more than your presents." � Jesse Jackson
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
Surprise
Eric doesn't know it yet, heh, heh, but we bought him an iMac. It�s going to be a great computer for all the drawing and designing he does.
We�ve got some ribbons on the screen and I�ve spent a little time setting it all up. As soon as I plugged it in, it was ready to go. When I connected to the Internet it asked if I wanted to download all the updates for all the programs that were installed on the machine. I said: �Yes� went to dinner and when I got back it was done. I'm telling you, it took a lot to set this baby up you know. If I every buy another computer for my folks, it'll be this one. Effortless installs.
Everything, the entire computer, is inside the flat screen. There is only one power wire to the outlet. The USBs, firewire, and network connections are on the back on the screen. The speakers are built in. It�s a very clear interface.
I�m going to an iBook and once that happens, our office will be much cleaner and simpler. My screen looks like a rainbow because the monitor is going. Eric�s had issues with a virus that I clean out. What�s nice about the Apple machines is there are no popups, a few viruses to worry about. Most of the hackers go after the Micro$oft stuff.
Ruth and I will wait upstairs for the garage to open. When he walks in to check out his Internet site, I�ll have it on the iMac. He�ll be blown away. We can�t wait.
It�s always fun to surprise someone, we feel like kids again.
�dave
Expect nothing. Live frugally on surprise. - Alice Walke
We�ve got some ribbons on the screen and I�ve spent a little time setting it all up. As soon as I plugged it in, it was ready to go. When I connected to the Internet it asked if I wanted to download all the updates for all the programs that were installed on the machine. I said: �Yes� went to dinner and when I got back it was done. I'm telling you, it took a lot to set this baby up you know. If I every buy another computer for my folks, it'll be this one. Effortless installs.
Everything, the entire computer, is inside the flat screen. There is only one power wire to the outlet. The USBs, firewire, and network connections are on the back on the screen. The speakers are built in. It�s a very clear interface.
I�m going to an iBook and once that happens, our office will be much cleaner and simpler. My screen looks like a rainbow because the monitor is going. Eric�s had issues with a virus that I clean out. What�s nice about the Apple machines is there are no popups, a few viruses to worry about. Most of the hackers go after the Micro$oft stuff.
Ruth and I will wait upstairs for the garage to open. When he walks in to check out his Internet site, I�ll have it on the iMac. He�ll be blown away. We can�t wait.
It�s always fun to surprise someone, we feel like kids again.
�dave
Expect nothing. Live frugally on surprise. - Alice Walke
Monday, February 21, 2005
Fierce Weather
We�ll I have to shut down for the night. We are getting golf ball sized hail in some areas of Atlanta. We haven't seen any here yet but don't want to be near the window if it does hit.
I was at work when the storm came. I�ll tell you though, it�s scary being in a twenty-story building and watching lightning strike a light pole out in the parking structure.
When I left, the sun came out (because of me? well, maybe). We live in the west side of Atlanta. The east side is getting a beating. It�ll be interesting to find out who was affected.
We are a little concerned for Eric. He�s at work, his car is in the parking lot, and we can�t get a hold of him. We had heard that the hail was hitting his area. We�ll see if his car needs a visit to Macco when he returns home.
Several buildings here have lightning rods. It seems that every spring there�s a report of an oak tree that was split by lightning or some home damaged by the lightning or the tree that fell on it. We have powerful storms here.
I�m not sure if it�s a good thing that we live near a mountain, well more like a big hill. The small mountain is behind us, on the other side of the cul-de-sac. I hope it strikes there instead of our home.
We are battening down the hatches, shutting down our systems, and hunkering down for the night.
�dave
It is vain to look for a defense against lightning. - Syrus (Publilius Syrus)
I was at work when the storm came. I�ll tell you though, it�s scary being in a twenty-story building and watching lightning strike a light pole out in the parking structure.
When I left, the sun came out (because of me? well, maybe). We live in the west side of Atlanta. The east side is getting a beating. It�ll be interesting to find out who was affected.
We are a little concerned for Eric. He�s at work, his car is in the parking lot, and we can�t get a hold of him. We had heard that the hail was hitting his area. We�ll see if his car needs a visit to Macco when he returns home.
Several buildings here have lightning rods. It seems that every spring there�s a report of an oak tree that was split by lightning or some home damaged by the lightning or the tree that fell on it. We have powerful storms here.
I�m not sure if it�s a good thing that we live near a mountain, well more like a big hill. The small mountain is behind us, on the other side of the cul-de-sac. I hope it strikes there instead of our home.
We are battening down the hatches, shutting down our systems, and hunkering down for the night.
�dave
It is vain to look for a defense against lightning. - Syrus (Publilius Syrus)
Sunday, February 20, 2005
Vanilla Toothpaste
I know the advertisers have done their Research & Development but vanilla toothpaste? Why would anyone buy vanilla toothpaste, besides my wife? (She likes to try new stuff.)
Me? I just like to continue brushing away using my minty toothpaste. I�ve had spearmint toothpaste, peppermint toothpaste, and just plain mint toothpaste. I�ve kinda grown up around the idea that toothpaste should make your mouth feel, well, fresh and minty. If I wanted vanilla, I�d wash my meal down with vanilla ice cream. (And indeed I do at times but then always brush with minty toothpaste.)
This reminds me of the time Nabisco came out with their low-fat Oreos. I guess people want to continue on eating cookies with the delusion that they are low in fat but it seems ridiculous to me. Anyway, problem was, these new cookies didn�t dunk well. The average Oreo dunked in ice cold milk softens in about 10 seconds, give or take a few. The �New Improved Low-Fat� ones NEVER soften. This was intolerable. I wrote the company.
I explained that I came from a family of Oreo dunkers. My father dunked, I dunk, and I was attempting to train my son in the art of dunking. I explained that we�d even have contests as to who could finish off a row of cookies first. (Thus the need to avoid the melt-down I talked about before, spooning takes time, you'll lose.) I further told them that 10 seconds was the correct number of seconds for the cookie to soften without melting into the milk. (You don�t want to lose the cookie in the milk as this requires you to stop dunking and spoon it out.) I told them that their new cookie would not soften in milk regardless of the number of seconds left under the surface. I knew this the second I submerged my first low-fat cookie into the milk, there were no bubbles. The bubbles indicate that the cookie is absorbing the milk and these were obviously not!
They sent back a real nice letter with just a hint of condescension. They told me that their R&D Department had conducted many customer assessment studies, blah, blah, blah. Well I�ll tell you what, none of them did any dunking � that was clear.
They did supply coupons to purchase anything Nabisco. This gave me two more bags of original Oreos.
My point is that the R&D folks don�t always come to the right conclusion. Leave my cookies fat-some and make my toothpaste minty. If they�d just leave things as they are, we�d all have a lot less fretting to do!
�dave
Progress is a nice word. But change is its motivator. And change has its enemies.
--Robert F. Kennedy
Me? I just like to continue brushing away using my minty toothpaste. I�ve had spearmint toothpaste, peppermint toothpaste, and just plain mint toothpaste. I�ve kinda grown up around the idea that toothpaste should make your mouth feel, well, fresh and minty. If I wanted vanilla, I�d wash my meal down with vanilla ice cream. (And indeed I do at times but then always brush with minty toothpaste.)
This reminds me of the time Nabisco came out with their low-fat Oreos. I guess people want to continue on eating cookies with the delusion that they are low in fat but it seems ridiculous to me. Anyway, problem was, these new cookies didn�t dunk well. The average Oreo dunked in ice cold milk softens in about 10 seconds, give or take a few. The �New Improved Low-Fat� ones NEVER soften. This was intolerable. I wrote the company.
I explained that I came from a family of Oreo dunkers. My father dunked, I dunk, and I was attempting to train my son in the art of dunking. I explained that we�d even have contests as to who could finish off a row of cookies first. (Thus the need to avoid the melt-down I talked about before, spooning takes time, you'll lose.) I further told them that 10 seconds was the correct number of seconds for the cookie to soften without melting into the milk. (You don�t want to lose the cookie in the milk as this requires you to stop dunking and spoon it out.) I told them that their new cookie would not soften in milk regardless of the number of seconds left under the surface. I knew this the second I submerged my first low-fat cookie into the milk, there were no bubbles. The bubbles indicate that the cookie is absorbing the milk and these were obviously not!
They sent back a real nice letter with just a hint of condescension. They told me that their R&D Department had conducted many customer assessment studies, blah, blah, blah. Well I�ll tell you what, none of them did any dunking � that was clear.
They did supply coupons to purchase anything Nabisco. This gave me two more bags of original Oreos.
My point is that the R&D folks don�t always come to the right conclusion. Leave my cookies fat-some and make my toothpaste minty. If they�d just leave things as they are, we�d all have a lot less fretting to do!
�dave
Progress is a nice word. But change is its motivator. And change has its enemies.
--Robert F. Kennedy
Saturday, February 19, 2005
Insurance
It�s odd but true, we live in a society that is insurance crazy.
The insurance companies are making big bucks because they make us work for every reimbursement. Sometimes they don�t reimburse us at all. So let me understand. I carry insurance so that they�ll cover in case of emergency or a large portion of the doctor�s bills but not all bills, only the ones they agree to.
I�m stuck in the middle of big business. Doctors on one hand trying to make me better but charging me a co-pay and insurance companies on the other making me feel worse by hitting me up for reimbursements. I don�t think I�ll win this battle.
For example, Ruth goes to a back therapist. They have been working on her for some time. Suddenly, this year, our insurance company is taking an upper hand in the treatments. Each treatment she receives they send two pages of questions. Ruth answers the questions and sends it in. This has been going on since the start of the year.
But the envelopes keep coming. Tonight she showed me a stack of seven envelopes, all with the same questions to answer. I told her to call our insurance company and tell them that the treatments won�t help any if they keep sending all this mail. It�s breaking her back just carrying the stack into the house!
I think I could sue for postage harassment.
It just doesn�t make any sense.
�dave
Insurance company slogans:
"Coverage from the cradle to the grave."
"Coverage from the womb to the tomb."
"Coverage from the sperm to the worm."
The insurance companies are making big bucks because they make us work for every reimbursement. Sometimes they don�t reimburse us at all. So let me understand. I carry insurance so that they�ll cover in case of emergency or a large portion of the doctor�s bills but not all bills, only the ones they agree to.
I�m stuck in the middle of big business. Doctors on one hand trying to make me better but charging me a co-pay and insurance companies on the other making me feel worse by hitting me up for reimbursements. I don�t think I�ll win this battle.
For example, Ruth goes to a back therapist. They have been working on her for some time. Suddenly, this year, our insurance company is taking an upper hand in the treatments. Each treatment she receives they send two pages of questions. Ruth answers the questions and sends it in. This has been going on since the start of the year.
But the envelopes keep coming. Tonight she showed me a stack of seven envelopes, all with the same questions to answer. I told her to call our insurance company and tell them that the treatments won�t help any if they keep sending all this mail. It�s breaking her back just carrying the stack into the house!
I think I could sue for postage harassment.
It just doesn�t make any sense.
�dave
Insurance company slogans:
"Coverage from the cradle to the grave."
"Coverage from the womb to the tomb."
"Coverage from the sperm to the worm."
Friday, February 18, 2005
Crazy User
While designing some software we discovered a bug in the existing system. We fixed it and told the user. We thought they�d be glad that their system had one less problem. Instead here are some comments they made:
�If there is no bug, how do we know when the system isn�t working?�
Huh?
�How do you know there is not another bug in the system?�
Ah, well, the reason it�s called a bug is because it has just been found and fixed. We don�t know if there is another bug because we haven�t found it! If we find another bug then we'll know there WAS one, but not before.
�What are you going to do to make sure this same bug doesn�t appear again?�
Well, we�ve removed it. It�s a sure bet the same bug won�t appear again. Because, you see, we�ve squashed the bug. Get it? The bug was FOUND and removed. Therefore there is no such thing as a same bug, since it�s not there anymore.
Sheesh.
�dave
As far as we know, our computer has never had an undetected error. � Weisert
�If there is no bug, how do we know when the system isn�t working?�
Huh?
�How do you know there is not another bug in the system?�
Ah, well, the reason it�s called a bug is because it has just been found and fixed. We don�t know if there is another bug because we haven�t found it! If we find another bug then we'll know there WAS one, but not before.
�What are you going to do to make sure this same bug doesn�t appear again?�
Well, we�ve removed it. It�s a sure bet the same bug won�t appear again. Because, you see, we�ve squashed the bug. Get it? The bug was FOUND and removed. Therefore there is no such thing as a same bug, since it�s not there anymore.
Sheesh.
�dave
As far as we know, our computer has never had an undetected error. � Weisert
Thursday, February 17, 2005
Passwords
I'll think I'll go mad. I must have 30 passwords and that's not counting my personal ones.
To access any machine in the Enterprise I need to be authorized. Trouble is, there is no central clearing house for my passwords. Therefore I need to keep track of the passwords for EACH machine. Now each machine requires a different password sequence. Some require at least a number, one special character, and an uppercase. Other's let you key anything as long as it's 6 characters or longer (but not more than 10). Some password prompts don't tell you there is a limit on the length so they'll go blithely along and accept whatever I type. Later when I actually try to use the password, the system refuses to accept it. Then, when I attempt it several times, using my long password that the computered didn't record, the system locks the password thinking that I am some intruder. It took me weeks to discover what was wrong.
So I've decided to take the least common denominator (which is the most complex password) and use that for ALL my access. But here's where it gets interesting. Each machine has a timer for password expiration. Therefore, I am required to change my password every thirty days. Trouble is, the machines are not synchronized. So it seems that one of my passwords expire every day. I finally decided that when one password expired, I'd change them all. Now I spend the 30 minutes and change them at one time every 30 days.
Just about the time I think I've got it all figured out I visit an Internet site that requires a different password format. Of course, most require a password AND a UserID. The UserID requires different formats. In the end, most sites require me to use my email address as the UserID. The trouble with that is, I don't like giving out my email address. Sometimes I just use a dummy email address, something with an @ sign and period.
But I moan too much. I have a solution. Just trust everyone. That should work. Can't imagine why it wouldn't.
�dave
I have an inferiority complex, but it isn't a very good one.
To access any machine in the Enterprise I need to be authorized. Trouble is, there is no central clearing house for my passwords. Therefore I need to keep track of the passwords for EACH machine. Now each machine requires a different password sequence. Some require at least a number, one special character, and an uppercase. Other's let you key anything as long as it's 6 characters or longer (but not more than 10). Some password prompts don't tell you there is a limit on the length so they'll go blithely along and accept whatever I type. Later when I actually try to use the password, the system refuses to accept it. Then, when I attempt it several times, using my long password that the computered didn't record, the system locks the password thinking that I am some intruder. It took me weeks to discover what was wrong.
So I've decided to take the least common denominator (which is the most complex password) and use that for ALL my access. But here's where it gets interesting. Each machine has a timer for password expiration. Therefore, I am required to change my password every thirty days. Trouble is, the machines are not synchronized. So it seems that one of my passwords expire every day. I finally decided that when one password expired, I'd change them all. Now I spend the 30 minutes and change them at one time every 30 days.
Just about the time I think I've got it all figured out I visit an Internet site that requires a different password format. Of course, most require a password AND a UserID. The UserID requires different formats. In the end, most sites require me to use my email address as the UserID. The trouble with that is, I don't like giving out my email address. Sometimes I just use a dummy email address, something with an @ sign and period.
But I moan too much. I have a solution. Just trust everyone. That should work. Can't imagine why it wouldn't.
�dave
I have an inferiority complex, but it isn't a very good one.
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Two Motorcycles
When I left for work this morning it was misty. The streets were wet and the skies were foggy. We had a slow moving van in front of us down Burnt Hickory but when I reached Marietta Square all was clear.
I pulled up to a red light, and I was the only one in my lane and I waited. Two loud Harley Davidson's pulled up behind me. The two guys were yelling over their belching machines. Since it was still dark out their headlights blinded me from both side and rearview mirrors. They pulled up very close, right on my bumper. They were being obnoxious.
When the light changed green I took off like a rocket on rails just to get away from the blinding lights. I left them far behind. I let off the throttle a bit as I was coming up on my left turn.
I must have ticked them off because they were coming up fast behind me. Then, as I glanced in my rearview mirror, I saw blue lights mixed with the white headlights. They were coppers! Opppppssssss.
He was nice enough. Asked where I was going. I told him the truth. Why should I lie?
"You pulled away from the light pretty fast there."
"Yeah, sorry about that. I was trying to get away from the bright lights behind me."
He asked for my driver's license and went back to check out my history.
I was pawing through all my insurance papers when he came back and said:
"I'm going to give you a warning. I know you have a fast car and all but it's dark out here and you've got to be careful."
I was thinking: Yeah, well, if you wouldn't pull up at my bumper and blind me with your headlights...but I said:
"Thank you sir."
I had pulled over to a side narrow road. So I started up and drove to the top where it was barricaded. I turned around in a driveway at the end. Meanwhile the ticketing cop decided to make the sharp turn on the wet inclined road and dumped his bike. He waived me past while he restarted his hog.
Heh, heh, honest revenge. Later dudes.
...dave
The best safety device for a car is a rearview mirror with at cop in it.
I pulled up to a red light, and I was the only one in my lane and I waited. Two loud Harley Davidson's pulled up behind me. The two guys were yelling over their belching machines. Since it was still dark out their headlights blinded me from both side and rearview mirrors. They pulled up very close, right on my bumper. They were being obnoxious.
When the light changed green I took off like a rocket on rails just to get away from the blinding lights. I left them far behind. I let off the throttle a bit as I was coming up on my left turn.
I must have ticked them off because they were coming up fast behind me. Then, as I glanced in my rearview mirror, I saw blue lights mixed with the white headlights. They were coppers! Opppppssssss.
He was nice enough. Asked where I was going. I told him the truth. Why should I lie?
"You pulled away from the light pretty fast there."
"Yeah, sorry about that. I was trying to get away from the bright lights behind me."
He asked for my driver's license and went back to check out my history.
I was pawing through all my insurance papers when he came back and said:
"I'm going to give you a warning. I know you have a fast car and all but it's dark out here and you've got to be careful."
I was thinking: Yeah, well, if you wouldn't pull up at my bumper and blind me with your headlights...but I said:
"Thank you sir."
I had pulled over to a side narrow road. So I started up and drove to the top where it was barricaded. I turned around in a driveway at the end. Meanwhile the ticketing cop decided to make the sharp turn on the wet inclined road and dumped his bike. He waived me past while he restarted his hog.
Heh, heh, honest revenge. Later dudes.
...dave
The best safety device for a car is a rearview mirror with at cop in it.
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
The Stairs
Ruth watched some show last night about losing weight, diet and exercise. The point of the show was, you can't lose weight without exercise. Diet is important but when each person chose a different diet program they each needed exercise.
I'm not fat by any means. But I have noticed that I'm developing just a little, if imperceptible, gut. I've cut out the cheese omelets each morning for breakfast and replaced them with oatmeal. This has helped. I wore a little pedometer that told me I was averaging only two miles a day. Five miles a day is recommended.
So I get this great idea of walking up the stairs when I get to work. That's a very simple way of getting exercise. Avoid the elevator and take the risers. This morning I THOUGHT about it but couldn't bring myself to try it so early in the morning. So this afternoon I gave it a whirl.
When I got back from lunch I first had to find the stairs. They were tucked away around the corner. They were not even well marked. Anyway I started behind a big woman so I thought this would be a breeze. I thought I could just get sucked along by her draft. Did I mention she was BIG? But after just one flight she was gone and I couldn't keep up. This is when I knew I was doomed.
By the fifth floor I was breathing heavily. At least, I think that was my breathing. Everything became a distant echo. My eyes started blurring and I found myself grasping the handrail. Since the parking garage is on the fourth floor where I started, this was not a good sign. My cube is on eleven.
By floor seven I was breathing very heavy, my legs were tightening, and I started slowing. I felt like I was seventy years old. Well, I've never been seventy, but if I were, I'm sure that's the way I would feel.
By the ninth floor I considered crawling to the elevator doors. Even if I couldn't reach the button, perhaps someone would see my condition and press the button for me. I was having serious trouble with the legs. They didn't feel like they belonged to me. My heart was pounding so strongly I think I popped a shirt button on my chest.
On the last flight I could only focus on the door. By this time I felt like a marathon runner crossing the 26 kilometer finish line. I expected crowds to roar as I tugged on the door but all was quite. I became embarrassingly aware of how heavy I was breathing as I passed the cubes and so breathed sparingly and through my mouth. I plopped down into my chair when I finally reached my desk after climbing 207 steps.
Whose idea was this anyway? Who says we even need exercise? Can't we just sit at our cubes and type? At lease that's some kind of exercise. It's got to be better than nothing.
...dave
I consider exercise vulgar. It makes people smell. - Alec Yuill Thornton
I'm not fat by any means. But I have noticed that I'm developing just a little, if imperceptible, gut. I've cut out the cheese omelets each morning for breakfast and replaced them with oatmeal. This has helped. I wore a little pedometer that told me I was averaging only two miles a day. Five miles a day is recommended.
So I get this great idea of walking up the stairs when I get to work. That's a very simple way of getting exercise. Avoid the elevator and take the risers. This morning I THOUGHT about it but couldn't bring myself to try it so early in the morning. So this afternoon I gave it a whirl.
When I got back from lunch I first had to find the stairs. They were tucked away around the corner. They were not even well marked. Anyway I started behind a big woman so I thought this would be a breeze. I thought I could just get sucked along by her draft. Did I mention she was BIG? But after just one flight she was gone and I couldn't keep up. This is when I knew I was doomed.
By the fifth floor I was breathing heavily. At least, I think that was my breathing. Everything became a distant echo. My eyes started blurring and I found myself grasping the handrail. Since the parking garage is on the fourth floor where I started, this was not a good sign. My cube is on eleven.
By floor seven I was breathing very heavy, my legs were tightening, and I started slowing. I felt like I was seventy years old. Well, I've never been seventy, but if I were, I'm sure that's the way I would feel.
By the ninth floor I considered crawling to the elevator doors. Even if I couldn't reach the button, perhaps someone would see my condition and press the button for me. I was having serious trouble with the legs. They didn't feel like they belonged to me. My heart was pounding so strongly I think I popped a shirt button on my chest.
On the last flight I could only focus on the door. By this time I felt like a marathon runner crossing the 26 kilometer finish line. I expected crowds to roar as I tugged on the door but all was quite. I became embarrassingly aware of how heavy I was breathing as I passed the cubes and so breathed sparingly and through my mouth. I plopped down into my chair when I finally reached my desk after climbing 207 steps.
Whose idea was this anyway? Who says we even need exercise? Can't we just sit at our cubes and type? At lease that's some kind of exercise. It's got to be better than nothing.
...dave
I consider exercise vulgar. It makes people smell. - Alec Yuill Thornton
Monday, February 14, 2005
Starbucks
I'm at Starbucks on this foggy day. There are a couple folks here busily engaged in conversation. A kind of country tune is playing overhead.
Foggy today
I've found me a big green chair to enjoy a tall Mocha Valencia. There's a frosty glass coffee table in front of me here where it sits while I type this into my Blackberry.
And I am flying blind doing this on my Blackberry because I'm not using my trusty spellchecker. I feel like I'm skydiving without a parachute. Thanks to Ruth's coaching I've improved some. But without the spellchecker I feel exposed, like I'm walking around without my clothes on. Anyway I digress.
Starbucks in Atlanta on a fogless day
There's something comforting about going to a Starbucks (or any coffee house for that matter) on a rainy day. I love hearing the steamer whirling in the silver pot. And the grinder, how I love to hear the grinder. Wow. Hearing the grinder whine and getting a whif of the strong coffee aroma is like being in heaven itself.
One of the girls here has hair like Phyllis Diller. Looks like it got caught up in one one of the coffee grinders and she couldn't untangle it so just pinned it up as is. The tangled mess is as big as the head itself. It truly looks painful though she's smiling, she looks friendly enough.
Finally they've change the music to Carlie Simon. Well, it's better then country. Country music in a Starbucks? What were they thinking? That's just plain wrong.
They have a new drink I've been unwilling to try. It's called Chantigo. It's pure chocolate. But I just can't break away from the Mocha Valencias I've become addicted to. Maybe someday when I'm forced into rehab.
I'm doing better now than I've done before. I used to need 2 or 3 fixes a day. Now it's only when I have a strong urge and I can't concentrate that I come here. I don't have a problem. I have it under control. No, I haven't gone cold turkey but there's been no family intervention. I'm fine, really. I could stop anytime.
Coffee break's up. I've got to go. We'll talk about this another time. It's time to go back to work.
..dave
Rehab is for quitters.
Foggy today
I've found me a big green chair to enjoy a tall Mocha Valencia. There's a frosty glass coffee table in front of me here where it sits while I type this into my Blackberry.
And I am flying blind doing this on my Blackberry because I'm not using my trusty spellchecker. I feel like I'm skydiving without a parachute. Thanks to Ruth's coaching I've improved some. But without the spellchecker I feel exposed, like I'm walking around without my clothes on. Anyway I digress.
Starbucks in Atlanta on a fogless day
There's something comforting about going to a Starbucks (or any coffee house for that matter) on a rainy day. I love hearing the steamer whirling in the silver pot. And the grinder, how I love to hear the grinder. Wow. Hearing the grinder whine and getting a whif of the strong coffee aroma is like being in heaven itself.
One of the girls here has hair like Phyllis Diller. Looks like it got caught up in one one of the coffee grinders and she couldn't untangle it so just pinned it up as is. The tangled mess is as big as the head itself. It truly looks painful though she's smiling, she looks friendly enough.
Finally they've change the music to Carlie Simon. Well, it's better then country. Country music in a Starbucks? What were they thinking? That's just plain wrong.
They have a new drink I've been unwilling to try. It's called Chantigo. It's pure chocolate. But I just can't break away from the Mocha Valencias I've become addicted to. Maybe someday when I'm forced into rehab.
I'm doing better now than I've done before. I used to need 2 or 3 fixes a day. Now it's only when I have a strong urge and I can't concentrate that I come here. I don't have a problem. I have it under control. No, I haven't gone cold turkey but there's been no family intervention. I'm fine, really. I could stop anytime.
Coffee break's up. I've got to go. We'll talk about this another time. It's time to go back to work.
..dave
Rehab is for quitters.
Sunday, February 13, 2005
The Doors
The doors are done. That�s right, handy dandy carpenter that I am, have completed the doors. This really calls for a celebration.
It�s been a year and a half since I started and here it is completed. I can�t believe it�s taken this long. It sure is nice to see out of the office again now that the plastic glass protectors have been removed.
French doors
I bought some French doors at Home Depot back in October of 2003. They came with a jamb. All I�d need to do, so it seemed at the time, was to just place them in the office opening, screw and paint. It couldn�t be easier.
The first problem was how to get them home. I have no truck. So I rented one of Home Depot�s trucks. It is only $20 if you bring the truck back in a half hour.
Since the opening is larger than the biggest French doors, I had to manufacture my own door casings. They started as 2x6 then ripped on my table saw. I placed four long 3� drywall screws at each end. Trying to get them straight and eliminate the twist in one was a trick.
Inside the office
I thought I�d just air nail the jambs into the casings but the nails were not strong enough. So I screwed them in, counter sunk them, filled them and painted. Because of all the glass in the doors and the three coats needed to make them look good, it took a lot of evening time, after work to complete them.
I'm compressing lots of problems into just a single day's post but if I had started this blog then ... we'll let's just say you'd like this brief version. There were shered screws that I had to drill out, wood posts that had to come out and be realigned, doors that had to be un-hinged to be painted and replaced. But I'd never bore anyone with that trivia.
Just today I decided to get to work and complete them, knobs and all. So it's done.
Now my next job is the glass panels on either side. I�ll get on that right away.
...dave
"By doing just a little every day, I can gradually let the task overwhelm me" - Ashleigh Brilliant quotes
It�s been a year and a half since I started and here it is completed. I can�t believe it�s taken this long. It sure is nice to see out of the office again now that the plastic glass protectors have been removed.
French doors
I bought some French doors at Home Depot back in October of 2003. They came with a jamb. All I�d need to do, so it seemed at the time, was to just place them in the office opening, screw and paint. It couldn�t be easier.
The first problem was how to get them home. I have no truck. So I rented one of Home Depot�s trucks. It is only $20 if you bring the truck back in a half hour.
Since the opening is larger than the biggest French doors, I had to manufacture my own door casings. They started as 2x6 then ripped on my table saw. I placed four long 3� drywall screws at each end. Trying to get them straight and eliminate the twist in one was a trick.
Inside the office
I thought I�d just air nail the jambs into the casings but the nails were not strong enough. So I screwed them in, counter sunk them, filled them and painted. Because of all the glass in the doors and the three coats needed to make them look good, it took a lot of evening time, after work to complete them.
I'm compressing lots of problems into just a single day's post but if I had started this blog then ... we'll let's just say you'd like this brief version. There were shered screws that I had to drill out, wood posts that had to come out and be realigned, doors that had to be un-hinged to be painted and replaced. But I'd never bore anyone with that trivia.
Just today I decided to get to work and complete them, knobs and all. So it's done.
Now my next job is the glass panels on either side. I�ll get on that right away.
...dave
"By doing just a little every day, I can gradually let the task overwhelm me" - Ashleigh Brilliant quotes
Saturday, February 12, 2005
Road Construction
It's strange but true. The Georgia road crew decided to shut down four lanes on 285. That's right, you heard that correctly, FOUR lanes. This is madness.
The 285 highway forms a circle around Atlanta city. There are three other main highways that thread through the big circle, 75, 85 and 20. 75 and 85 form a cross through the circle. Highway 20 runs through 8:00 to 4:00 and intersects at the airport.
The road crews that I've seen working on a major highway usually cone a lane off for road work and let the major flow of traffic through. Not so this road crew. They just shut down the whole thing. What do they care they're not going anywhere? They're just sitting along the roadside with the lunchboxes. Sheeesh.
But it gets worse. They decided to work the entire weekend. You can't get anywhere around Atlanta without using 285 so this makes getting anywhere impossible. Except...
Ruth knows lots of shortcuts. She was able to get us off and threaded through lots of back streets to our destination. Sure we were late. It would have been nice to know before hand that the arteries of the city were shut down for the entire weekend.
I've always wondered why road crews work in the day. It's always impossible to get around when they do. They often choose rush hour to do it. Not to mention how dangerous it is working around all that traffic. Why wouldn't they work when say no one is around? Wouldn't that make some sense? How about 1:00 a.m? Surely someone has already thought of this. I can't be the only one thinking about this.
...dave
The road to ruin is always in good repair, and the travelers pay the expense of it. - Josh Billings
The 285 highway forms a circle around Atlanta city. There are three other main highways that thread through the big circle, 75, 85 and 20. 75 and 85 form a cross through the circle. Highway 20 runs through 8:00 to 4:00 and intersects at the airport.
The road crews that I've seen working on a major highway usually cone a lane off for road work and let the major flow of traffic through. Not so this road crew. They just shut down the whole thing. What do they care they're not going anywhere? They're just sitting along the roadside with the lunchboxes. Sheeesh.
But it gets worse. They decided to work the entire weekend. You can't get anywhere around Atlanta without using 285 so this makes getting anywhere impossible. Except...
Ruth knows lots of shortcuts. She was able to get us off and threaded through lots of back streets to our destination. Sure we were late. It would have been nice to know before hand that the arteries of the city were shut down for the entire weekend.
I've always wondered why road crews work in the day. It's always impossible to get around when they do. They often choose rush hour to do it. Not to mention how dangerous it is working around all that traffic. Why wouldn't they work when say no one is around? Wouldn't that make some sense? How about 1:00 a.m? Surely someone has already thought of this. I can't be the only one thinking about this.
...dave
The road to ruin is always in good repair, and the travelers pay the expense of it. - Josh Billings
Friday, February 11, 2005
Quotes
Many have asked about the signature and quote at the end of each post. They want to know where I get these things.
I must have thousands of quotes I�ve collected over the years. My bookcase is full of quote books. I found a program that has 43,000 quotes and it�s free! And of course, there are thousands of places on the Internet that will give you quotes for just about any category you can think of, and beyond.
I�ve collected quotes for years. In 1997 I wrote a TrayQuote program. The program sits in your Window's tray (lower right corner on the Taskbar). At an interval you determine the program will insert a quote to the end of the email. You can select different quote files that come with the program, such as: serious, funny, witty, proverb, etc.
The strange part is, even though the quote is random, often the quote relates to the subject of my email. Go figure.
There are mailing lists you can subscribe to that�ll send you a quote a day. Or you can find some JavaScript or RSS that will put a quote-of-the-day on your web page.
But I don�t collect just any quote. I like short (should be one sentence), pithy, and witty. Bartlett�s Familiar Quotations have wordy and serious quotes. They are often too stiff for me or I just don�t understand them. I guess I�m from the NOW generation. I need my quote in bite-sized pieces that I can down in one gulp.
Here an example that TrayQuote gave me today:
"Am I getting smart with you? How would you know?"
Now that�s a pithy, witty quote if ever I saw one. (It�s true, it�s two sentences, but it's so good I�ll make an exception.)
Trouble is, I have to be careful who the email is addressed to. A quote like that to my boss could be misunderstood.
Here is another favorite:
"After I�m dead I�d rather people ask why I have no monument than why I have one. " - Cato the Elder
In the days before the Internet, collecting quotes was more difficult. I read books, listened to the radio, read the newspaper and wrote down quotes, list of quotes.
Today, they are everywhere. Here are a few quote sites that will spruce up your correspondence:
ThinkExist
NonStopEnglish
DoYouKnow?
QuoteWorld
QuoteLand
Well. you get the idea.
�dave
"Quotes are nothing but inspiration for the uninspired." - Richard Kemph
I must have thousands of quotes I�ve collected over the years. My bookcase is full of quote books. I found a program that has 43,000 quotes and it�s free! And of course, there are thousands of places on the Internet that will give you quotes for just about any category you can think of, and beyond.
I�ve collected quotes for years. In 1997 I wrote a TrayQuote program. The program sits in your Window's tray (lower right corner on the Taskbar). At an interval you determine the program will insert a quote to the end of the email. You can select different quote files that come with the program, such as: serious, funny, witty, proverb, etc.
The strange part is, even though the quote is random, often the quote relates to the subject of my email. Go figure.
There are mailing lists you can subscribe to that�ll send you a quote a day. Or you can find some JavaScript or RSS that will put a quote-of-the-day on your web page.
But I don�t collect just any quote. I like short (should be one sentence), pithy, and witty. Bartlett�s Familiar Quotations have wordy and serious quotes. They are often too stiff for me or I just don�t understand them. I guess I�m from the NOW generation. I need my quote in bite-sized pieces that I can down in one gulp.
Here an example that TrayQuote gave me today:
"Am I getting smart with you? How would you know?"
Now that�s a pithy, witty quote if ever I saw one. (It�s true, it�s two sentences, but it's so good I�ll make an exception.)
Trouble is, I have to be careful who the email is addressed to. A quote like that to my boss could be misunderstood.
Here is another favorite:
"After I�m dead I�d rather people ask why I have no monument than why I have one. " - Cato the Elder
In the days before the Internet, collecting quotes was more difficult. I read books, listened to the radio, read the newspaper and wrote down quotes, list of quotes.
Today, they are everywhere. Here are a few quote sites that will spruce up your correspondence:
ThinkExist
NonStopEnglish
DoYouKnow?
QuoteWorld
QuoteLand
Well. you get the idea.
�dave
"Quotes are nothing but inspiration for the uninspired." - Richard Kemph
Thursday, February 10, 2005
The Vending Machine
Like most large companies we have vending machines on all the floors. These glass boxes with dollar slots exchange your hard earned cash for a cracker jack sized goodie. Sometimes they don't give you the treat you requested and other times they give you nothing.
These are computerized machines. These are not the old-style machines that take a few coins and allow you to pull a lever mechanically connected to a column of snacks. The offspring of the old machines are hot-shots with LCD panels and soft buttons. You give your dollar, push the buttons, and the computer panel releases the stick of gum.
One time I deposited my quarters, pressed the buttons and it said my selection was invalid. I pressed cancel but it wouldn�t give my quarters back. Thinking that more quarters would somehow fix it, I tried again. I had no success and became poorer by the minute.
Just today, while getting coffee, an associate deposited his dollar for a small box of cookies. The cookie box dropped and landed in the tray upright, thereby blocking the door! Who thought of this bright idea? Making the box large enough to jamb the door took a lot of foresight.
He started to shake the machine, or I should say attempted to shake the machine but it wasn�t budging. Others came in to help out but in the end just stood around staring.
Finally I fetched a long spoon, stuck it through the door, dislodged the box, and became a hero for a day. As a reward, there were cookies all around.
...dave
Change is inevitable, except from vending machines - Unknown
These are computerized machines. These are not the old-style machines that take a few coins and allow you to pull a lever mechanically connected to a column of snacks. The offspring of the old machines are hot-shots with LCD panels and soft buttons. You give your dollar, push the buttons, and the computer panel releases the stick of gum.
One time I deposited my quarters, pressed the buttons and it said my selection was invalid. I pressed cancel but it wouldn�t give my quarters back. Thinking that more quarters would somehow fix it, I tried again. I had no success and became poorer by the minute.
Just today, while getting coffee, an associate deposited his dollar for a small box of cookies. The cookie box dropped and landed in the tray upright, thereby blocking the door! Who thought of this bright idea? Making the box large enough to jamb the door took a lot of foresight.
He started to shake the machine, or I should say attempted to shake the machine but it wasn�t budging. Others came in to help out but in the end just stood around staring.
Finally I fetched a long spoon, stuck it through the door, dislodged the box, and became a hero for a day. As a reward, there were cookies all around.
...dave
Change is inevitable, except from vending machines - Unknown
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Fraidy Cat
Snickers is always entertaining us. But I shutter when I think about what it took to get Snickers here from California.
We moved to Georgia in the spring of 2002, just seven months from 911. Security was high. We bought a pet carry-on for Snickers. It is just a square, soft-sided oblong box. There is cloth mesh at both ends and on the top. The end zips open for �easy� access.
We are at the security station when the fat lady with the spray-on pants tells us that we have to remove Snickers from the carry-on so that they can run it through their x-ray.
Snickers is the epitome of paranoia when he�s at home with strangers in the house. Now, we are standing in a long line of strange people and strange noises. I unzip the case and reach in to pull him out. He doesn�t want to come and his claws come out and grip the little carpet floor of the bag. So he comes out with carpet stuck to his paws.
He�s looking around, his ears pasted back, he�s ready to bolt. I hold him tight avoiding the claws. I fear he�ll swipe me and leave me bleeding with ribbons of flesh hanging from my arms. I try to calm him with �That�s okay Snickers. Come on.� But he�s not buying it. I press his claws to my chest, feel the pain, and walk through the scanner with him. No lights or alarms go off but the important woman wants to wand me anyway.
Snickers glances back at her, hissing. His eyes follow her wand as it goes down my one side and up the other. I can only see the whites of his eyes. This was very entertaining for the folks standing in the line. Kids are pointing, people are smiling, I�m flush with embarrassment. Snickers tail was swatting. They see a man with a crazy cat glued to his chest hissing all around.
Finally, what seems like an eternity, she waves me through. And I put him back into his cage. This was much harder than pulling him out. I was pretty cut up when I was finished.
Through out the flight we consoled him by unzipping part of the opening and giving him a stroke. Once, he pressed his nose in the opening and his head popped out. We almost lost him in the feet of the passengers.
I think next time I�ll buy him a separate ticket and have him check himself in!
�dave
"Thousands of years ago, cats were worshipped as gods. Cats have never forgotten this." Anonymous
We moved to Georgia in the spring of 2002, just seven months from 911. Security was high. We bought a pet carry-on for Snickers. It is just a square, soft-sided oblong box. There is cloth mesh at both ends and on the top. The end zips open for �easy� access.
We are at the security station when the fat lady with the spray-on pants tells us that we have to remove Snickers from the carry-on so that they can run it through their x-ray.
Snickers is the epitome of paranoia when he�s at home with strangers in the house. Now, we are standing in a long line of strange people and strange noises. I unzip the case and reach in to pull him out. He doesn�t want to come and his claws come out and grip the little carpet floor of the bag. So he comes out with carpet stuck to his paws.
He�s looking around, his ears pasted back, he�s ready to bolt. I hold him tight avoiding the claws. I fear he�ll swipe me and leave me bleeding with ribbons of flesh hanging from my arms. I try to calm him with �That�s okay Snickers. Come on.� But he�s not buying it. I press his claws to my chest, feel the pain, and walk through the scanner with him. No lights or alarms go off but the important woman wants to wand me anyway.
Snickers glances back at her, hissing. His eyes follow her wand as it goes down my one side and up the other. I can only see the whites of his eyes. This was very entertaining for the folks standing in the line. Kids are pointing, people are smiling, I�m flush with embarrassment. Snickers tail was swatting. They see a man with a crazy cat glued to his chest hissing all around.
Finally, what seems like an eternity, she waves me through. And I put him back into his cage. This was much harder than pulling him out. I was pretty cut up when I was finished.
Through out the flight we consoled him by unzipping part of the opening and giving him a stroke. Once, he pressed his nose in the opening and his head popped out. We almost lost him in the feet of the passengers.
I think next time I�ll buy him a separate ticket and have him check himself in!
�dave
"Thousands of years ago, cats were worshipped as gods. Cats have never forgotten this." Anonymous
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
The Simple Things
It's true, simple things make life enjoyable.
As I sit here and write this I have my cup of tea nearby. It has such a clean, pure taste. I tilt the cup and warmth spills into me. Wonderful. I always add just a small amount of sugar, about a half cube and it's perfection.
A simple cup of tea makes life enjoyable. Of course, White Tip Earl Grey tea is preferred whenever possible. Also, not necessary, but certainly preferred, is genuine white crystal sugar. It's best when mixed with a hot cup of White Tip Earl Grey.
Now I know that you're thinking: "Wusseys drink tea, real men grab a mug of black coffee." But I beg to differ. I know a construction contractor who has his tea every morning under his trellis of posies. You don't know what you're missing until you drink a premium cup of tea.
Whenever I'm writing by hand I always use a journal, a leather journal. As you open the journal, the tanned leather aroma reaches your olfactory cells (the nose). Ah, the simple life.
Life is about a White Tip Earl Grey cup of tea with a few nuggets of rock sugar while writing in an aromatic tanned leather journal using a gold-tipped fountain pen. I didn't mention the gold-nibbed fountain pen? Did I forget that? You gota have a fountain pen. You should have a fountain pen with a gold nib for smooth, glass-like writing pleasure. It's part of those simple things I've been talking about. But I digress.
It's true, you COULD just drink a cup of water while writing with a #2 pencil on a scrap piece of paper but wouldn't that be sort of, you know, barbaric?
...dave
We are cups, constantly and quietly being filled. The trick is, knowing how to tip ourselves over and let the beautiful stuff out. - Ray Bradbury
As I sit here and write this I have my cup of tea nearby. It has such a clean, pure taste. I tilt the cup and warmth spills into me. Wonderful. I always add just a small amount of sugar, about a half cube and it's perfection.
A simple cup of tea makes life enjoyable. Of course, White Tip Earl Grey tea is preferred whenever possible. Also, not necessary, but certainly preferred, is genuine white crystal sugar. It's best when mixed with a hot cup of White Tip Earl Grey.
Now I know that you're thinking: "Wusseys drink tea, real men grab a mug of black coffee." But I beg to differ. I know a construction contractor who has his tea every morning under his trellis of posies. You don't know what you're missing until you drink a premium cup of tea.
Whenever I'm writing by hand I always use a journal, a leather journal. As you open the journal, the tanned leather aroma reaches your olfactory cells (the nose). Ah, the simple life.
Life is about a White Tip Earl Grey cup of tea with a few nuggets of rock sugar while writing in an aromatic tanned leather journal using a gold-tipped fountain pen. I didn't mention the gold-nibbed fountain pen? Did I forget that? You gota have a fountain pen. You should have a fountain pen with a gold nib for smooth, glass-like writing pleasure. It's part of those simple things I've been talking about. But I digress.
It's true, you COULD just drink a cup of water while writing with a #2 pencil on a scrap piece of paper but wouldn't that be sort of, you know, barbaric?
...dave
We are cups, constantly and quietly being filled. The trick is, knowing how to tip ourselves over and let the beautiful stuff out. - Ray Bradbury
Monday, February 07, 2005
Memory
Memory is a curious thing. They say our mind thinks in patterns. It catalogs similar things and it "notices� the unusual. If we were conscious of the millions of pieces of information our minds receive daily, we�d blow a fuse. (Well, at least I would.)
Instead, thousands of millions of bits of information come streaming into our grey matter without needing full attention. It�s kind of like being in a crowded room where everyone is talking. You can hear a din without really understanding a word. Unless of course, you focus on someone nearby, or hear your name called. Suddenly, you are fully aware of the subject and even individual words.
It is for just this reason that I try to develop habits, very mundane habits. You know, a behavior pattern developed by frequent repetition. I keep my socks and shirts facing the same direction. That way I never have to LOOK in the drawer, I just REACH in the drawer. I put on and take off all the gear I use each day in the same order. That way my mind is free to think of anything it wants, while I go through the routine motions of say, getting dressed for work. These patterns are especially important since I get up while it�s still dark out, and I don�t want to wake the wife.
But everyone is not like that. My wife, for example, will remove the keys to her car and set them on the floor after stopping. No, I don�t know why. There is no habit she follows, like for example, putting them in her purse so that she doesn�t forget and lock herself out of the car, so that she'd have to call her husband at work to come and let her in. (I�m just speaking hypothetically here.)
Now, I try to help folks understand this basic technique of mine, thinking that it could be most helpful to them, but they don�t seem to appreciate my suggestions. Like: �You know if you follow a pattern, you�ll never forget and leave your purse at someone�s house.� (I�m just giving examples here. They have no resemblance to any occurrence or individuals.)
I do use kind words such as �This works for me because I haven�t forgotten my keys inside my car EVER.� But this seems to make matters worse.
So if, for example, someone locked their keys in the car and then retrieved an extra key that was put in a purse that was left over someone�s house, that would mean that the extra key at someone�s house would not be available to open the car that has the key locked inside, which has been left at a public parking lot. (I�m just speaking purely to illustrate how non-patterned behavior can get a person into a predicament.)
This is no big deal because, let�s say a person got into this tight spot. Well they could simply ask me and I�d just give them the extra key I have. It�s always carefully placed in my top drawer right here�hey, where are my keys? Did someone take my keys? I ALWAYS put them here, in this SAME place. Eric, are you playing with my mind?
Rats. Don�t� let me forget, I�ll have to get back to you on this.
�dave
I forgot to remember.
Instead, thousands of millions of bits of information come streaming into our grey matter without needing full attention. It�s kind of like being in a crowded room where everyone is talking. You can hear a din without really understanding a word. Unless of course, you focus on someone nearby, or hear your name called. Suddenly, you are fully aware of the subject and even individual words.
It is for just this reason that I try to develop habits, very mundane habits. You know, a behavior pattern developed by frequent repetition. I keep my socks and shirts facing the same direction. That way I never have to LOOK in the drawer, I just REACH in the drawer. I put on and take off all the gear I use each day in the same order. That way my mind is free to think of anything it wants, while I go through the routine motions of say, getting dressed for work. These patterns are especially important since I get up while it�s still dark out, and I don�t want to wake the wife.
But everyone is not like that. My wife, for example, will remove the keys to her car and set them on the floor after stopping. No, I don�t know why. There is no habit she follows, like for example, putting them in her purse so that she doesn�t forget and lock herself out of the car, so that she'd have to call her husband at work to come and let her in. (I�m just speaking hypothetically here.)
Now, I try to help folks understand this basic technique of mine, thinking that it could be most helpful to them, but they don�t seem to appreciate my suggestions. Like: �You know if you follow a pattern, you�ll never forget and leave your purse at someone�s house.� (I�m just giving examples here. They have no resemblance to any occurrence or individuals.)
I do use kind words such as �This works for me because I haven�t forgotten my keys inside my car EVER.� But this seems to make matters worse.
So if, for example, someone locked their keys in the car and then retrieved an extra key that was put in a purse that was left over someone�s house, that would mean that the extra key at someone�s house would not be available to open the car that has the key locked inside, which has been left at a public parking lot. (I�m just speaking purely to illustrate how non-patterned behavior can get a person into a predicament.)
This is no big deal because, let�s say a person got into this tight spot. Well they could simply ask me and I�d just give them the extra key I have. It�s always carefully placed in my top drawer right here�hey, where are my keys? Did someone take my keys? I ALWAYS put them here, in this SAME place. Eric, are you playing with my mind?
Rats. Don�t� let me forget, I�ll have to get back to you on this.
�dave
I forgot to remember.
Sunday, February 06, 2005
Skip
I grew up with a guy named Skip. He was always coming up with some cockamamie idea. Like the time he showed me some hotel matches he found.
It was a July day in California. We were sitting by an empty field. It was as dry as chapped lips in a desert. In California the green fields dry to a golden brown. It�s because, well, there�s no water.
Skip had this idea that he was going to light the match and watch it burn to his fingers to see how long he could hold it. He lit the match and it started to burn. It was great fun until it reached his fingers as which point he yelped and flung the lighted match. It didn�t land on the concrete sidewalk where I was standing but he flicked it into the dry field of three-foot grass. It lit almost instantly, as if there was gasoline on the ground. I made a beeline for his house where both our parents were. I walked into the living room nonchalant and sat down with the grown ups.
It wasn�t long before I heard sirens growing louder. At first I didn�t make the connection because I left Skip stamping out the small fire. But when the fire trucks turned down the street I knew Skipper wasn�t successful with his fireman imitation.
Next thing I knew there was lots of smoke and activity near what was once a golden field. And then the terrible thing happened. There at the front door was a fireman with Skip by the scruff of the neck: �Is this your son?� Skip was turned over to his parents.
Another time Skip and I were sitting out on the curb, between two cars, late at night, while our parents were inside talking. Skip has some walnuts that we were eating. Of course, there were lots of shells, handfuls of them. Skip got the great idea of tossing them into the street, when a car went by, a fancy sports car, a fancy sports car with a mean guy in it.
The guy stomped his breaks, his tires screeched, and I saw the big guy get out of his car. I was always faster than Skip. So the guy came for Skip. He had to, I was already over the wooden fence listening on the other side. I was over the fence before the guy threw his transmission into park. I waited in the back while I heard the guy cuss and swear at Skip while herding him to the front door where he turned him over, again, to his parents.
I never came up with good ideas like Skip.
�dave
�No, he's pretty dumb. He's in all the same special classes I am."
It was a July day in California. We were sitting by an empty field. It was as dry as chapped lips in a desert. In California the green fields dry to a golden brown. It�s because, well, there�s no water.
Skip had this idea that he was going to light the match and watch it burn to his fingers to see how long he could hold it. He lit the match and it started to burn. It was great fun until it reached his fingers as which point he yelped and flung the lighted match. It didn�t land on the concrete sidewalk where I was standing but he flicked it into the dry field of three-foot grass. It lit almost instantly, as if there was gasoline on the ground. I made a beeline for his house where both our parents were. I walked into the living room nonchalant and sat down with the grown ups.
It wasn�t long before I heard sirens growing louder. At first I didn�t make the connection because I left Skip stamping out the small fire. But when the fire trucks turned down the street I knew Skipper wasn�t successful with his fireman imitation.
Next thing I knew there was lots of smoke and activity near what was once a golden field. And then the terrible thing happened. There at the front door was a fireman with Skip by the scruff of the neck: �Is this your son?� Skip was turned over to his parents.
Another time Skip and I were sitting out on the curb, between two cars, late at night, while our parents were inside talking. Skip has some walnuts that we were eating. Of course, there were lots of shells, handfuls of them. Skip got the great idea of tossing them into the street, when a car went by, a fancy sports car, a fancy sports car with a mean guy in it.
The guy stomped his breaks, his tires screeched, and I saw the big guy get out of his car. I was always faster than Skip. So the guy came for Skip. He had to, I was already over the wooden fence listening on the other side. I was over the fence before the guy threw his transmission into park. I waited in the back while I heard the guy cuss and swear at Skip while herding him to the front door where he turned him over, again, to his parents.
I never came up with good ideas like Skip.
�dave
�No, he's pretty dumb. He's in all the same special classes I am."
Saturday, February 05, 2005
Miscommunication
I was asked to meet with a user that was having some difficulty configuring the security properties of their users.
When I reached her cube I noticed a large picture in crayon pinned to her wall. It was about three feet high by five feet wide. The picture depicted a hearth with stuffed animals stacked on either side.
I commented on what a nice picture she had. It was very basic. It looked like the product of a child. I imagined that her daughter or son had drawn it.
�Oh� she said �my girl did that!�
�Well that�s a very good drawing.� I commended her. She was noticeably pleased and proud. "Looks like she has some talent."
�We did it together.� She beamed.
�My son loves to draw too.� I told her. �How old is your girl?� I asked.
�Oh, she�s twenty-one.�
Ah, twenty-one? There must be something wrong, this is a kid�s picture of a very child-like subject. And she helped? Maybe her girl is mentally challenged and this was a picture they did together, and so has special meaning. Why else would she pin it up, here in her cube? What do I say next? I don�t want to offend. I wasn't sure what I should say next. But she saved me. She said:
�Would you like to see a picture of her?�
�Yes, I would very much.�
Then she showed me a picture of a very normal looking, beautiful blond woman. The girl�s picture didn�t look anything like her parent. I was just not getting it. Finally, she said: �She�s my partner.�
Ooooohhhhhhh, I get it. Oooopppppssss.
Why in the world didn�t she say that in the beginning?
Yikes! I�m too slow.
But then, this doesn't explain the kiddy crayon drawing in the cube. I still don't get it.
�dave
Just because I'm slow doesn't mean I'm stupid.
When I reached her cube I noticed a large picture in crayon pinned to her wall. It was about three feet high by five feet wide. The picture depicted a hearth with stuffed animals stacked on either side.
I commented on what a nice picture she had. It was very basic. It looked like the product of a child. I imagined that her daughter or son had drawn it.
�Oh� she said �my girl did that!�
�Well that�s a very good drawing.� I commended her. She was noticeably pleased and proud. "Looks like she has some talent."
�We did it together.� She beamed.
�My son loves to draw too.� I told her. �How old is your girl?� I asked.
�Oh, she�s twenty-one.�
Ah, twenty-one? There must be something wrong, this is a kid�s picture of a very child-like subject. And she helped? Maybe her girl is mentally challenged and this was a picture they did together, and so has special meaning. Why else would she pin it up, here in her cube? What do I say next? I don�t want to offend. I wasn't sure what I should say next. But she saved me. She said:
�Would you like to see a picture of her?�
�Yes, I would very much.�
Then she showed me a picture of a very normal looking, beautiful blond woman. The girl�s picture didn�t look anything like her parent. I was just not getting it. Finally, she said: �She�s my partner.�
Ooooohhhhhhh, I get it. Oooopppppssss.
Why in the world didn�t she say that in the beginning?
Yikes! I�m too slow.
But then, this doesn't explain the kiddy crayon drawing in the cube. I still don't get it.
�dave
Just because I'm slow doesn't mean I'm stupid.
Friday, February 04, 2005
The Velvet Hammer
I remember a flight to Oregon for a vendor meeting last year. Some things are just hard to forget.
I was early to the airport and was sitting inside the security check-in. A United Airline plane was just pushed out from the gate. A towman in dark blue shorts and light blue shirt had disconnected the yellow tongue of the squat truck to release the plane.
I was sitting at the window taking it all in, with my feet up on the stainless steel windowsill. I had a "velvet hammer" sitting to my left. It�s a coffee drink with nutmeg that I bought from a transvestite tending an espresso bar. At least I think that�s what he was.
He had painted nails, earrings, lipstick, and crayon black arches for his eyebrows. I guess he drew them on because the eyebrows he used to have, the hairy kind, he had completely shaved off. His name was Curtis. He wasn�t even friendly. Actually he looked sad, maybe lost. He didn't really look at me when he asked for my order, just kind of through me.
But his looks were so bizarre that I had to remind myself NOT to stare. It�s hard work for my mind to figure out what kind of coffee drink I want AND figure out why this person doesn�t look like a man or a woman. It doesn't look like anything I can recognize.
The mind looks for patterns and my mind wasn�t finding one.
...dave
Of course life is bizarre, the more bizarre it gets, the more interesting it is. The only way to approach it is to make yourself some popcorn and enjoy the show.
I was early to the airport and was sitting inside the security check-in. A United Airline plane was just pushed out from the gate. A towman in dark blue shorts and light blue shirt had disconnected the yellow tongue of the squat truck to release the plane.
I was sitting at the window taking it all in, with my feet up on the stainless steel windowsill. I had a "velvet hammer" sitting to my left. It�s a coffee drink with nutmeg that I bought from a transvestite tending an espresso bar. At least I think that�s what he was.
He had painted nails, earrings, lipstick, and crayon black arches for his eyebrows. I guess he drew them on because the eyebrows he used to have, the hairy kind, he had completely shaved off. His name was Curtis. He wasn�t even friendly. Actually he looked sad, maybe lost. He didn't really look at me when he asked for my order, just kind of through me.
But his looks were so bizarre that I had to remind myself NOT to stare. It�s hard work for my mind to figure out what kind of coffee drink I want AND figure out why this person doesn�t look like a man or a woman. It doesn't look like anything I can recognize.
The mind looks for patterns and my mind wasn�t finding one.
...dave
Of course life is bizarre, the more bizarre it gets, the more interesting it is. The only way to approach it is to make yourself some popcorn and enjoy the show.
Thursday, February 03, 2005
David
David, a co-worker, was telling us about his shenanigans when we was in college. He squirted lighter fluid on his dorm floor and lit it afire. �Great fun.� he says. The RM peeked around the corner: �Do I smell smoke?� �Ah, don�t worry the floor is slate. It ain�t guna hurt nothin�.�
He set up a �floating bar.� They�d stock the elevator full of booze and run it up and down the building. �Hey, there�s a party on seven and some cool people live up there!� And then run up the stairs and hang out.
David is rather unconventional even now. I remember when I started working with him we�d talk over coffee early in the morning before anyone came in. I tell him about an approach we were taking on the software as he typed away on his email. When I said something that captured his attention he�d push back from his desk, crease his brows, lean back in his chair and scissor cross his legs up on the file cabinet. �Interesting idea.� He�d say.
I looked at his ankles revealed by his jeans. He was wearing tennis socks with little colorful heart designs at the tops. They remedied me of something a girl scout would wear. Certainly nothing I�ve seen in the men�s section of a department store.
And David loves his leather clogs. He�ll slip them on and off absentmindedly as he talks. Or he�ll wet a paper towel and wipe them down. He cinches his jeans with a black leather belt that threads through the buckle and past the second belt loop at the other side. It�s end hangs down several inches like a dog�s tongue panting. He usually wears a long sleeve plaid shirt buttoned at the cuffs but rolled a half cuff length up to the button.
He likes to cut his hair himself using a razor when it gets past a half an inch and �feels crazy.� He has so much energy he can�t sit still for very long and will move around with boundless energy that seems to exude from every pore.
He once told me about a fight his kids had over the remote and somehow the remote went into orbit and cracked the front of the TV. They were punished but David had a mind to build a bond fire out back, pour gasoline over it, paint his face and bare-chest as a North American Brave and set the whole thing aflame. It sounded like so much fun I offered to help him do it. It would have taught the kids there is life beyond TV.
But what is most amazing and humorous about him is his ability to capture a feeling or attitude in a few sentences. One day, early in my Georgia life, I told him I didn�t realize Georgia had capital punishment. I�d lived in California and Hawaii much of my life, neither of which have it.
�Yeah� David says with a put on redneck accent �If they ain�t no good we shoot �em out here. We ain�t like them Washingtonians out there, takin� their multi-vitamins, stantin� around in shorts and kickin� their hacky sacks in their hemp sandals. Bleedin� hearts them all.�
But if you think David is unusual, you should check out some of the other people I've worked with here.
�dave
If you mow your lawn and find your car, you might be a redneck.
He set up a �floating bar.� They�d stock the elevator full of booze and run it up and down the building. �Hey, there�s a party on seven and some cool people live up there!� And then run up the stairs and hang out.
David is rather unconventional even now. I remember when I started working with him we�d talk over coffee early in the morning before anyone came in. I tell him about an approach we were taking on the software as he typed away on his email. When I said something that captured his attention he�d push back from his desk, crease his brows, lean back in his chair and scissor cross his legs up on the file cabinet. �Interesting idea.� He�d say.
I looked at his ankles revealed by his jeans. He was wearing tennis socks with little colorful heart designs at the tops. They remedied me of something a girl scout would wear. Certainly nothing I�ve seen in the men�s section of a department store.
And David loves his leather clogs. He�ll slip them on and off absentmindedly as he talks. Or he�ll wet a paper towel and wipe them down. He cinches his jeans with a black leather belt that threads through the buckle and past the second belt loop at the other side. It�s end hangs down several inches like a dog�s tongue panting. He usually wears a long sleeve plaid shirt buttoned at the cuffs but rolled a half cuff length up to the button.
He likes to cut his hair himself using a razor when it gets past a half an inch and �feels crazy.� He has so much energy he can�t sit still for very long and will move around with boundless energy that seems to exude from every pore.
He once told me about a fight his kids had over the remote and somehow the remote went into orbit and cracked the front of the TV. They were punished but David had a mind to build a bond fire out back, pour gasoline over it, paint his face and bare-chest as a North American Brave and set the whole thing aflame. It sounded like so much fun I offered to help him do it. It would have taught the kids there is life beyond TV.
But what is most amazing and humorous about him is his ability to capture a feeling or attitude in a few sentences. One day, early in my Georgia life, I told him I didn�t realize Georgia had capital punishment. I�d lived in California and Hawaii much of my life, neither of which have it.
�Yeah� David says with a put on redneck accent �If they ain�t no good we shoot �em out here. We ain�t like them Washingtonians out there, takin� their multi-vitamins, stantin� around in shorts and kickin� their hacky sacks in their hemp sandals. Bleedin� hearts them all.�
But if you think David is unusual, you should check out some of the other people I've worked with here.
�dave
If you mow your lawn and find your car, you might be a redneck.
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
Loopy
Man, today is so loopy. You know, I feel like I�ve just come out of a washer after the spin cycle. I haven�t gotten much sleep. I can�t sleep like everyone else, the clowns will eat me! I�m sure you�ve felt that way. I just think my brain has less wrinkles. That�s not bad, is it?
Maybe work is getting to me. I dream about it all the time. Last night I dreamt that I was just a sliver of silicon processing machine-level instructions from the all-knowing power user. He brought up a spreadsheet and fried my memory. I woke up and turned down the electric sheets but couldn�t remember a thing. I guess some mornings it�s just not worth gnawing through the straps.
I do try to focus on my daily chores but it�s hard to because people are after me. I mean, just because I AM paranoid doesn�t mean they are NOT after me.
You may think I�m losing it, but I do have a grip on reality � just not on this particular one. All things considered, insanity may be my only alternative. I know I kind of live in a world of my own, but at least everyone knows me here. And I�ve always wondered, if I were cloned, would one of us feel better?
Just because I still prefer the upper part of a sandwich people think I�m crazy for saying so. But they are just angry because they've never tried it. And I hate broccoli, and yet, in a certain sense, I am broccoli. And don�t ask me, because I don't think you�re supposed to tamper with the four basic food groups.
I guess it�s good to get this all out. I�m feeling more like I do now than I did before.
�dave
It�s colder today than outside.
Maybe work is getting to me. I dream about it all the time. Last night I dreamt that I was just a sliver of silicon processing machine-level instructions from the all-knowing power user. He brought up a spreadsheet and fried my memory. I woke up and turned down the electric sheets but couldn�t remember a thing. I guess some mornings it�s just not worth gnawing through the straps.
I do try to focus on my daily chores but it�s hard to because people are after me. I mean, just because I AM paranoid doesn�t mean they are NOT after me.
You may think I�m losing it, but I do have a grip on reality � just not on this particular one. All things considered, insanity may be my only alternative. I know I kind of live in a world of my own, but at least everyone knows me here. And I�ve always wondered, if I were cloned, would one of us feel better?
Just because I still prefer the upper part of a sandwich people think I�m crazy for saying so. But they are just angry because they've never tried it. And I hate broccoli, and yet, in a certain sense, I am broccoli. And don�t ask me, because I don't think you�re supposed to tamper with the four basic food groups.
I guess it�s good to get this all out. I�m feeling more like I do now than I did before.
�dave
It�s colder today than outside.
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
Banal Blather
I always watch the news to see what the weather will be like tomorrow. Yeah, I know, I can always check weather.com but I learn so much more when I listen to the local weather on the news.
For example:
"We'll have some precipitation tomorrow coming our way from the west. (Sweeping gestures in front of the colorized map of the U.S.) There will be some slight moisture drops so bring your umbrellas. (Some dotted lines stripe across the state.) Be prepared, the possible rain in our forecast for tomorrow could cause some possible delays in the morning commute. Other than that, you'll be seeing patches of clouds on the horizon due to the moisture in the air. These drops of water will be forming and possibly descend on our Atlanta city."
I like to time how long they can speak on any one subject without telling me anything, it's kind of fun.
(Stop watch starts...)
"We've got a fender bender on 75 and Roy is on the spot to tell us about it. Roy?"
"Thanks Kim. Yeah, I'm here just near this on-ramp to 75 and you'll see behind me the fire trucks and police lights as evidence that this is going to cause some stoppage on your roadway."
Next you see earlier video. Then you hear voice over of the same newscaster. The camera pans through the pulsing lights of the emergency crew while the newscaster drones in real earnest. You begin to think they actually filmed the accident and you'll get to see something at least entertaining. But NO. The video shows a bunch of tail lights.
"The accident occurred on 75 southbound between two travelers in four wheel cars. They hit each other and this caused a crash. This is why the emergency crew is here on the spot trying to determine just what happened."
"We talked to fire Chief Jeff Wiggins (made up name here) and he gave us some more details."
Now you see video of an interview of Chief Wiggins. (You can kind of figure it out because of his fireman hat.) He's saying: 'Yeah, this accident occurred here on 75. As far as we have determined, the drivers evidently didn't know each other. However we will be investigating this further.'
"Can you tell us anything about the drivers themselves?"
"We'll they were driving down 75 when one of them evidently crashed into the other. We're checking on the details. You know there's just not a lot of information at this time." (Yeah, tell me about it. Wait a minute, they just did.)
"Were they racing down the highway?"
"They were evidently traveling at a high speeds but at the present it is undetermined if their speedometer registered a number greater than the one posted alongside the road here." Camera shows SPEET LIMIT sign.
"Who were the drivers?"
"There was a driver in the one car that careened into the driver in the other car. At least two people are involved at this time. We are checking for additional passengers. We are not releasing any names at this time." (Nor much else.)
"What is the condition of the drivers?"
"Some are hurting pretty bad as you can imagine since they were traveling at high speeds down 75 possibly over the posted speed limit, but so much is unknown at this time. We'll be able to know more later."
"We'll there you have it Kim. Those are the details. It looks like it'll take some time to clean up this mess. Traffic is backing up so be careful out there. Back to you Kim."
"We'll that was Roy on location of a crash on 75 between two drivers both going southbound. They were evidently traveling at high speeds, though it's undetermined if they were traveling over the speed limit when one of them crashed into the other. Details at eleven."
Boy I can't wait!
(Stop watch stops...five minutes!)
Who writes this banal blather?
I pray and hope I never write like that!
We'll that's it for this post. There will be no more words here on this small story. No further stuff will be said here at this time as this is the end of the post. Perhaps you'll see other posts in the future on this or other subjects but this is it for now. Some words have been posted here before as well. However there aren't any more words to be said here. Stay tuned for possible posts in the future. This is the end of this post at this point in time.
...dave
Only a lawyer will dictate fifty single-spaced pages and call it a "brief?'
For example:
"We'll have some precipitation tomorrow coming our way from the west. (Sweeping gestures in front of the colorized map of the U.S.) There will be some slight moisture drops so bring your umbrellas. (Some dotted lines stripe across the state.) Be prepared, the possible rain in our forecast for tomorrow could cause some possible delays in the morning commute. Other than that, you'll be seeing patches of clouds on the horizon due to the moisture in the air. These drops of water will be forming and possibly descend on our Atlanta city."
I like to time how long they can speak on any one subject without telling me anything, it's kind of fun.
(Stop watch starts...)
"We've got a fender bender on 75 and Roy is on the spot to tell us about it. Roy?"
"Thanks Kim. Yeah, I'm here just near this on-ramp to 75 and you'll see behind me the fire trucks and police lights as evidence that this is going to cause some stoppage on your roadway."
Next you see earlier video. Then you hear voice over of the same newscaster. The camera pans through the pulsing lights of the emergency crew while the newscaster drones in real earnest. You begin to think they actually filmed the accident and you'll get to see something at least entertaining. But NO. The video shows a bunch of tail lights.
"The accident occurred on 75 southbound between two travelers in four wheel cars. They hit each other and this caused a crash. This is why the emergency crew is here on the spot trying to determine just what happened."
"We talked to fire Chief Jeff Wiggins (made up name here) and he gave us some more details."
Now you see video of an interview of Chief Wiggins. (You can kind of figure it out because of his fireman hat.) He's saying: 'Yeah, this accident occurred here on 75. As far as we have determined, the drivers evidently didn't know each other. However we will be investigating this further.'
"Can you tell us anything about the drivers themselves?"
"We'll they were driving down 75 when one of them evidently crashed into the other. We're checking on the details. You know there's just not a lot of information at this time." (Yeah, tell me about it. Wait a minute, they just did.)
"Were they racing down the highway?"
"They were evidently traveling at a high speeds but at the present it is undetermined if their speedometer registered a number greater than the one posted alongside the road here." Camera shows SPEET LIMIT sign.
"Who were the drivers?"
"There was a driver in the one car that careened into the driver in the other car. At least two people are involved at this time. We are checking for additional passengers. We are not releasing any names at this time." (Nor much else.)
"What is the condition of the drivers?"
"Some are hurting pretty bad as you can imagine since they were traveling at high speeds down 75 possibly over the posted speed limit, but so much is unknown at this time. We'll be able to know more later."
"We'll there you have it Kim. Those are the details. It looks like it'll take some time to clean up this mess. Traffic is backing up so be careful out there. Back to you Kim."
"We'll that was Roy on location of a crash on 75 between two drivers both going southbound. They were evidently traveling at high speeds, though it's undetermined if they were traveling over the speed limit when one of them crashed into the other. Details at eleven."
Boy I can't wait!
(Stop watch stops...five minutes!)
Who writes this banal blather?
I pray and hope I never write like that!
We'll that's it for this post. There will be no more words here on this small story. No further stuff will be said here at this time as this is the end of the post. Perhaps you'll see other posts in the future on this or other subjects but this is it for now. Some words have been posted here before as well. However there aren't any more words to be said here. Stay tuned for possible posts in the future. This is the end of this post at this point in time.
...dave
Only a lawyer will dictate fifty single-spaced pages and call it a "brief?'
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