the familiar halfhearted midnight trip

Tim Leary says I should drop out.
I’m totally gonna build a “dream machine.” It’s this thing that this dude from the 50’s invented which supposedly can be used to induce hallucinations (read: epileptic seizures). Basically, it’s just a rotating cardboard tube with a lightbulb inside that makes the light pulse at the same rate as your brain’s alpha-waves? which apparently makes you trip balls. Sounds about as awesome as bananadine.

We got this funny note on our doorstep the other day, and thought I’d share it because it really made me laugh. It’s typed up and printed on a multicolored inkjet printer all professional-like. See, this lady, Inna, wants to be our housekeeper? and she’s distributing these fliers to let us know she wants our business. “ARE YOU SEEKING RESPONCIBLE ,ORGANISED HOUSE CLEANER? YOU GOT IT!” Shouts the bold red text on the top of the page. “INNA IS ENERGETIC HOUSEKEEPER WITH LARGE JANITORIAL EXPERIENCE.” Really?! Tell me more! “INNA IS GOOD ON HER HANDS.” Wha? “INNA WILL BE RESPONCIBLE FOR GENERAL LABOR DUTIES TO KEEP YOUR HOUSE CLEAN.” Sweet! “SHE WILL SWEEPING, SCRUBBING, MOPPING, REMOUVING REFUSE, CLEANING LAVATORIES, SHOWERS OR RESTROOMS.” She will?! Oh boy! “INNA WILL KEEP YOUR HOUSE. IF INTERESTED PLEAS CALL.” Inna will keep my house? Umm.. no thanks Inna. Inna need spellcheck, bad. Sorry Inna.

Whoa, you know what’s weird? Inna might have spellcheck, because when I just ran it – it didn’t flag any of the misspelled words I transcribed from Inna’s note in the above paragraph. Strange.

Anyway, the weekend was good. I’ve been feeling rather ill lately, so I didn’t do any taxing work in the backyard this weekend – which means the sprinkler-awaiting trenches currently crisscrossing our backyard are still pining for PVC. Owell, one weekend lost, what’s the damage really? Saturday I decided to do absolutely nothing during the day. And, I mean nothing. I sat in front of this computer for most of the day – after doing about of “house cleaning” on the TiVo. Catching up on some Andy Griffith, Simpsons, and Scrubs. Then I just sat here and ripped CDs? all day. Got over 40 done by the time evening rolled around and it was time to celebrate Melissa’s birthday. By celebrate I mostly mean a drunken dinner party at our house, capped off by the familiar halfhearted midnight trip to the local pub for one last beer in some attempt to say we really “went out.”

Sunday I was feeling pretty bad, but decided to make a go at it by heading to the river with the crew. I didn’t go in the water, due to my sickness, but I did have a great time lounging in the sun and watching people wakeboard. If there’s one thing I did learn this weekend, it’s that beer doesn’t cure a cold – not that I didn’t try, but it just doesn’t work.

At one point on the boat Sunday I invented a new sitting position. I sat backwards on the back seat, with my back propped against the engine thing? so I was looking directly out the back of the boat, my feet dangling over the ski platform. If I laid my head back I could look up at the passing sky and riversides, and just see the two other backseat passengers out of the corners of my vision. I sat like that for an hour or so while we tugged people around and made our way downriver. Just sat there staring up at the sky listening to music, bouncing my feet and signing along loudly. Maybe it was the beer, but it was awesome. It’s just so “nothing’s going on” that I love it. I’m pretty sure people were laughing at me, but hey, that’s always the goal right?

Nothing more. Dave out.

takers?

I got nothing.  What you got?
I was kicking around writing ideas the other day, and hit upon an idea I thought would be kinda fun. I was thinking how much I like writing stories about the olden days, and telling things from my point of view – and I thought it would be really cool to hear some stories from other people who experienced them. That got me thinking about contacting some old friends and asking them if they wanted to do a “guest blog.” The more I thought about it, the less practical it sounded; I don’t really know who would want to do it, and I don’t even know who I would contact. So I kinda gave up, but I also thought opening up the blog to some “guest spots” might be kinda fun. So if there’s anyone out there who writes for fun, and I’ll publish yer ass on the internet. Anonymous or not, your choice. And I’m being for real too; moms, you got something to write – send it along. Random reader, blog-faithful, send it.

Anyway, with the likelihood of the offer being accepted being pretty low – I guess I better keep writing to fill the pages. Although I’m not going to write much today, since I didn’t do my late-night writing last night – and I’m really pressed for time today. (Yes, Wes, the blog is taking a hit for your stupid work-related deadlines). I just wanted to comment on one thing and then call it a weekend.

The recently released pictures of US soldiers humiliating and killing Iraqi prisoners have got me thinking. I mean, I think I’m not dense enough to not realize this stuff goes on – but I really wish it didn’t. (Damn, I think I just won the “how many negatives can you fit into a sentence” contest.) A few dumb soldiers with cameras document evidence which can be used to fuel the fires of hatred toward the US. Just what we need right now. So, crashing planes into buildings isn’t all that saintly either – but c’mon guys?

There. “A weekend.” Dave out.

drop bricks on our hot wheels

I have the power.
Saw the music industry sued another 500 downloaders today, sucks to be them. But for really guys, if you’re still using some kind of crappy centralized P2P app – what can you expect? Last night I stayed up until 1am for no apparent reason. I was ripping CDs and listening to the results, and writing like I am now. Tonight I went on a solo run around 10pm, so now I’ve got some juice keeping me awake.

Ben and I were talking today about all the toys we used to play with as kids, and which ones were our favorites. I think the whole conversation started around Legos, as we were both discussing the large tupperware container of random Legos we had as kids. You know, it was a jumbled mess of your standard primary-color Legos, some brown pirate-ship ones, and maybe some gray moonbase-five ones as well. My brother and I could have hours of fun with Legos. We’d dump out that tupperware container into a huge pile, and build crap for hours.

Also ranking mutually high on our lists were G.I. Joe, He-Man, and Transformers. I guess those were just the toys to have back then. I remember getting Castle Greyskull for Christmas the same year my brother got Skull Mountain. We had a lot of cool toys. The Rancor, the Millennium Flacon, the self-destructing Ewok-carrying Speederbike, an X-wing with popup R2D2 action, Ewok Village. Shoot, I think I was the only kid in town who had the Tundertank. I also had some ridiculously unpractical Transformers moonbase-robot-train thing, which was utterly stupid as a toy. The key to toys isn’t more motors and assembly, any idiot knows kids gravitate towards the most rock-simple concepts when it comes to toys. At least, in my day we did. I don’t know about these Poke-Digi kids of today? but give me a sticky spider thing that crawls down walls or a slingshot, and I’m good to go.

We also agreed that whoever thought of the whole “crack-ups” gimmick was a genius. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, crack-ups (or maybe it was crash-’ems) were Hot Wheels cars that had spring-loaded sections which would rotate quickly upon impact to show a “wrecked” version of the car. You could roll a normal looking car at a wall and the little rollover portion would switch to a fake dented hood or something. Pretty soon the rollover-change thing made it’s way into other toys like Battle Armor He-Man and such. Anyway, what a brilliant idea. Boys love to wreck their toys. My brother and I used to drop bricks on our Hot Wheels anyway, just to wreck them. Who was the genius who was smart enough to realize that a perpetually wreckable car would be a boys dream? Wish I woulda thought of it.

I’m outta here.

the tortoise that is my metabolism

It's a spare tire, y'know.. like because I'm fat and stuff.
Man, I seem to be getting more and more e-mail about my Pac Man cabinet every day. I guess as more sites link to mine, and I move up the Google ranks, the more hits I get. Right now my site is the 4th return in a Google for “pac man cocktail,” which ain’t bad at all. I think, of all my self-maintaining sites, it’s the one I’m most proud of. I feel like I actually “completed” it, didn’t leave it hanging like I often do. I mean, out of all my websites – the blog is the one I’m the most happy with, since I’m really happy I’ve kept up with it? and I feel like I might even have a small semi-dedicated readership. Thanks y’allz.

Sitting here listening to the Byrds’ “Mr. Tambourine Man” from 1965. So yeah, the GDM project is up to the By’s at this point. I haven’t been updating the database on the webpage, mostly because I haven’t been 100% diligent in testing all the resulting rips – but I am making some fo rilla progress on getting through the collection. The 120GB RAID array is nearly a quarter full. Dang I gotta take a dump right now, I’ll be right back?

One of my Taiwan customers sent me an awesome little gift the other day. I love this thing. When I was in Taiwan last, I picked up a similar USB pendrive MP3 player and it died immediately after I brought it onto US soil. Was a waste of $60 and didn’t have FM or voice-record features like this MSI one I now have. I gotta admit, the little thing sounds pretty dang good – and the volume goes loud enough so I can hear it over the lawn mower, which is one of the few times I use it. I know it’s no iPod at only 128MB, but hey – if it’s enough for the 1st four Led Zeppelin albums? who really needs anything more? For real though, it’s perfect for yardwork, running, hiking, camping, and any other short-term activity than can be enhanced with tunes. With a 2-4 album capacity at a decent bitrate, it works for me. Even if my albums run out, I could turn to that God-forsaken form of media-indoctrination they call FM radio? but of course that’d be this indie-diehard’s last option.

So hey, three paragraphs and nothing interesting yet – I’m back! Maybe I’ve finally shaken the shame of this terrible streak of writer’s block and settled for mediocre documentation of my daily crap. I’m gonna write about nothing and like it. For real though, I’d like to write something good again – the last thing that even came close was the Satan-flier thing? the coded-best-friend’s-sister-letters thing just didn’t really do it for me. Shit, am I all storied out? I got more right?

Been running roughly every other night, in a serious effort to try and lose some of my fat ass. That’s right, I want to lose some of me and never find it again. I’m talking like 80lbs of me? and that’s a lot. Anyway, every other night I lumber my hefty ass around the block a couple times to try and get the tortoise that is my metabolism to step it up a notch. I’ve been flirting with the whole “eating right” gig too, but been making slower progress on that aspect of it. I mean, my body has been in a slow state of atrophy for nigh on 15 years now? so it’s gonna be slow going. So, I’m really trying? maybe then I can get some friggin’ pants that fit or something. Being fat sucks, so I gotta work on it. Between working in the yard and running, maybe I can at least sweat out a pound or two. Wish me luck.

Well, it’s now officially Wednesday morning – and I have no idea what I’m still doing up. Listening to some 1967 Neil Young demos for the 2nd Buffalo Springfield album and writing. Because I feel bad about not writing something more awesomer, here’s a scanned in note I got from Sharaun in 1993. She’s talking about a mutual friend of ours, Heather – who would, ironically, later on become one of the “indiscretions” that led to our 9-month lost weekend. See, we really have been dating since high school? eerie. (The spelling errors were a running joke between us, man we were nerds).

Dave out.

frank and the road to nowhere

You know... I don't know how this ties in... sorry.
Missed yesterday because I was in a class all day, being taught how to “Work with China.” I guess because my whole industry is “offshoring” work to China – so I need to get better at working with these folks by better understanding their cultural and political situations. The class was interesting, mostly just because history and culture are interesting to me to begin with. Anyway, at least now I’m prepared for the eventual communist China takeover of the world’s tech industry. Sign me up, me and Mao go way back.

I had this whole entry written Friday to post Monday, so it would appear my writing hadn’t slacked off – but I decided against it, as it was mostly religion-themed. Who wants to read three pages of my rambling about the scientific vs. Biblical age of the earth anyway. So really, by not posting yesterday – I saved you. Your faith, assuming you have any, is safe from further erosion by my misguided “intellectualism.” But for real, 6000 years old and we lived with dinosaurs? I just don’t get it anymore. Oops, sorry.

Talked to Frank yesterday, he’s still in the Army. He’s signed up to go to Alaska and build roads in some remote town for a month in June. When I asked him why they were building roads there, who’s driving there – he responded by calling the place “the Alaskan whore.” Apparently all the branches of the military go there and build stuff. If you believe him, they have no reason for building it other than to round out some defense budget. In the Army they call the project, unofficially, “the road to nowhere.”

Other than building pointless roads in order to spend money and keep busy – he’s doing pretty good. He also said he’s leaving for Iraq in January of 2005, which seemed a little far off to me for him to already be so sure about? but he swears he’s already slated for the tour. When I asked about the fact that Bush said we’re pulling out and giving the country to the Iraqis – he just laughed. Comforting. Good to know we’re paving rainforests and fighting wars for the betterment of our country. Jeez, I think California is turning me into a pinko liberal… umm… “kill the poor and gimme back my guns!” There… that’s better.

This weekend was a busy one. Rented a jackhammer to plant some trees in the backyard. Yeah, a jackhammer. Makes the digging so much easier in a backyard that’s more rock than dirt. Got six holes dug and filled with trees, and it really “greens up” the yard. Soon enough I’ll have something that looks more like a suburban backyard more than it does the surface of Mars. Mowed the lawn, edged, pulled weeds, and did various other yardie stuffs. Still found time to see Kill Bill 2, drink a little bit, and head out for some wakeboarding on Sunday. Didn’t get to ride though, as my crazy-allergy-itchy thing came back with a vengeance on the river. What’s wrong with me?

I had another paragraph here, but it was dumb so I deleted it. Like the last song on Let It Bleed, or falling gold bars, I’m out.

the smooth licks of carlos

You think gold bars leave a mark?
Hot-damn people. What’s happening with this week? I haven’t been this distracted from writing since my last year of college, trying to worm my way through those last classes so I could escape from academia. I need to write, I gotsta write… here I go! Hold me back!

In the seventh grade I met Kyle. We were best friends in no time, my bond with him eclipsing those of my other friends almost immediately. He became the closest of my friends in the middle school crew. Not long after I started hanging out with Kyle, I developed a huge crush on his little sister. I mean, it was only natural. She was awesome, fun, cute, and ultimately accessible. I had “liked” girls before, but this was different. You know that first girl you were ever completely infatuated with? That was Kyle’s sister. My first “love.”

At first, I think it was a one-sided thing. I would flirt as best I could without making a big deal about it so Kyle could notice. However, as the years passed – it became something more serious. Eventually, we were sneaking around – sitting on either side of Kyle while we played Leisure Suit Larry on his mom’s computer, all the while holding hands right behind his back. It became the most exhilarating thing in the world.

Sometime in 8th grade, Kyle moved across town. I would still spend the night at his house often, and I would use those times equally to hang with my best friend – and flirt with his sister. Around this time, she and I had started passing notes in school. I don’t know how it happened, but we had to be super-secretive about it. The whole note-writing phase of our courtship was right around the time that the boys and I had cracked the Astro code, and having taught the code to Kyle’s sister – we added an extra layer of security to our clandestine missives by encoding them.

I’ll never forget trying to pass these secret notes to each other between classes, slipping them in locker slits, dropping them on the ground in view of each other, and plain being sly while exchanging them with Kyle right there. I would read each note with such attention, savoring each and every word. If there was ever a boy so painfully in love, it was me. We kept writing notes, and I kept spending the night, and things started getting worse. Kyle was starting to notice things.

One night, we had gone over to Kyle’s grandmother’s house – which was walking-close to his place. I was spending the night that night, and Kyle, his sister, and I were all walking back from his grandmother’s. At some point in the walk, she managed to slip me a note she’d written sometime that day. I remember barely being able to contain myself, I wanted to read it right then and there. As soon as we got back to the house, I went to the bathroom and took the note with me. I could read code like it was plain english by this point – and what I read made my heart race and head swim.


“I can tell you this now, I love you.”

She loved me? Holy crap! My heart must have been going a mile a minute. I can remember hurriedly writing a note in response the very next morning. Kyle had left me alone in his room while he mowed the lawn, and I broke out paper and pencil to confess my reciprocal pining to his sister. Santana’s “Samba Pa Ti” was on the stereo, the window was open, and I wrote a love letter to my best friend’s little sister to the hum of a lawnmower and the smooth licks of Carlos. After we had confessed our undying love for each other, we just had to keep our “relationship” a secret from the world.

What a great year or so. I remember holding hands on the couch in the dark, watching the “Lost Boys” while Kyle busied himself flirting with a friend of his sister’s who was also spending the night. In honesty, we had the best arrangement ever. Kyle got all his sister’s friends, and I got to keep busy with his sister. This hormone-filled middle school boy’s utopia was short lived though, and it was all do to one fateful double-sleepover night. The castle came tumbling down the morning Kyle’s mom walked into his room to find her daughter and I sharing a blanket on the floor while her son lay in bed under the covers with her daughter’s sleepover guest. What an awkward over-pancake discussion that breakfast was. In the end, we nearly lost simultaneous sleepover privileges – but it was worth it.

Not long after, Kyle asked me point-blank if I liked his sister. He said it was no big deal, and that every friend he ever had always ended up liking her. I wanted to be different, so I lied to him. I didn’t want to be “using” him for her, and I wasn’t. Anyway, before I knew it – his sister was “dating” some dude. I never got so much as a breakup note or a “goodbye.” Just found out one day that she was dating this dude in her grade. Crushed, I eventually grew out of my gradeschool puppy-love – but not without some amazing memories of hidden car-ride hand-holding, the smell of her wet hair in the morning, and my first-ever head-over-heels love.

This just in, this entry wins 1st place for use of hyphenated compound-words. Seriously, what’s up with that? Dave out.

gold bars fell on my head

So OK I stumbled, but I swear I only tripped over one...
Listening to the new Blonde Redhead, and it’s got a “nostalgic” air about it for some reason. The songs kind of hang out in my ears and make me feel far away from something, or? maybe it’s not the songs at all. Anyway, it’s a good album and you should check it out because I said so. What you need to wait until you hear it on the OC or see it in Best Buy on the “With a Bullet” rack? Stupid collective musical consciousness finally starting to recognize talent? you’re taking away my elitism. Bah.

While I was looking through my old junk trying to find the Satanic Flier from the other day, I found all the notes I’d saved from my courting years with Sharaun in high school. Holy crap, I have reams of paper filled with what must be seas of ink – and none of it says a damn thing more than “I love you I love you I love you.” Oh sure, there’s other words in there – but there’s absolutely no substance. We used to exchange notes after every period in high school, and it was always a contest to see who could write the longer of the two. I mostly won, because I can write about nothing with the best of ’em (I’m even doing it right now). But man those notes meant something then. Why am I talking about this again?

Gold bars fell on my head and I didn’t even stoop down to pick them up. Dave out.