Category: general

Where I put something when I’m too lazy to categorize it.

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now it’s now


Tuesday night, almost-finished-but-didn’t the final Halloween prop, I ended up missing a few minute but crucial bits and couldn’t leave the house as I was alone with Keaton. Tomorrow it is, then, for the finished product – time is ticking though, and I’m ready to have it done. Maybe I’ll come home tomorrow at lunch and finish it off. After working on, and quitting working on, the prop, I came inside and worked a bit on December’s “Best of 2006” post a little… then stopped to take a dump… and now it’s now. Sharaun’s busy fabricating our costumes for Friday’s soirée, and I should be working on making a replacement tombstone for the one that got jacked – but I’m not… I’m just not motivated. So instead I’m listening to music.

I absolutely loved this article (and the comments are particularly good too), the seafaring metaphors make for an entertaining read, and the meat is nice and meaty. Lamenting the many IED-pockmarks in Great Britain’s road to from March 19, 2003 to now in the Iraq war, the writer makes some interesting statements – including this one:

It is no small thing to find oneself on the wrong side of an argument when the debate is about the biggest disaster in British foreign policy since Suez; … no small … to have shackled our own good name to a doomed US presidency and crazed foreign-policy adventure that the next political generation in America will remember only with an embarrassed shudder.

Anyway… remember when we hastily invaded Iraq without international backing, the administration’s reasoning firmly based on the “overwhelming probability” of WMD (despite what revisionist history may say)? Fast-forward to now: North Korea most certainly has WMD, not one nation on Earth would question that. Remember the fear that the administration whipped up on the “likelihood” that Iraq might be producing and plotting to use WMD? Where is that fear for North Korea? Why is the nation not being whipped into a frenzy this time? (More stunningly, but slightly off-topic, why aren’t people taking note autonomously… must we wait to be told what to fear and who wears black?) We’re not seeing the same fear mongering because we can’t afford it. We’re completely committed to a theater of war that is now, without a doubt, a solid loss. We fucked up, fucked up big. Invaded a country on false pretense, blowing the horns of WMD and Democracy when we were really after a toehold in the Middle East and a more secure supply of oil. Oh sure, way back in 2003 this foreign policy may have seemed logical.

But oh, my friends, where we are now. Now – it’s crystal clear that Iraq, while it was no poster-child for human rights or fair government, was no imminent threat. But, while we were busy spreading ourselves thin and spilling blood for pure lies – the world was not idle. North Korea got the bomb, shadowy extremist networks like Al Qaeda mobilized and struck in far more sophisticated plots than we imagined them capable of. And all the while, we tore down a country that was, at its most threatening, a sticky situation for international diplomacy.

Anyway, the whole thing made me wonder, when I help Keaton memorize names and dates on flashcards for her 10th grade American history class, how this war will be memorialized in the books…

Anyway, we need to get off this war crap. The big ol’ Halloween party is in a mere two days, and things are pretty much ready. My mom and dad are coming down to spend a few days with us and Keaton, and are going to help out by babysitting the night of the fête (apparently English didn’t have enough synonyms for “party,” so we jacked a bunch from the French). I’m going to try to not get too ridiculously loose as the shindig, so Saturday won’t be a complete waste. Anyway, I have high hopes for what will be our fourth annual bash – and I’ll try and get some pictures of the costumed action up sometime early next week.

Goodnight lovers.

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q&a


Tuesday night, but tomorrow is my Friday – as Ben’s wedding sees me taking both Thursday and Friday off to do my groomsmenly duties. Can’t wait, should be awesome fun and drunk-relaxing to boot.

You know, a few months ago when I finally decided to add my e-mail address to the sidebar of sounds familiar, I wondered at first if anyone even noticed. Then, the mails trickled in. They were simple at first, although I got the occasional nugget. Over time though, I feel I’ve collected enough of these gems to assemble a choice little review. So, here we go friends, a rundown of what I feel are some of the best e-mails I’ve got as a result of my blog entries:


Did this really happen? (written in response to my poop entry)

Why yes, it really did. My old college roommate at the time even confirmed it here. I assure you that I really did spend an afternoon cleaning feces off the floor, wall, and ceiling.

i like to be gay with u, and in some of ur blogs u sound like u might b ok with it?

Sure! You’ve keenly picked up on the obvious homosexual undercurrents in my writing. Let’s meet sometime in real life and see if we get along. Maybe then, and only if you’re cute, can you be gay with me. I want to make it clear that, while I’m not 100% gay, e-mailing me random propositions is probably the best way to increase your odds.

Chinese people make me nervous, they always look like they will rob you. How can you relax there? (written in response, I think, to my entries on trips to Asia)

Well, you’re right – Asian people certainly do come across all back-alley thug, don’t they?. But, you have to work through it if you want to really connect on a global scale. Look, I’ve been to Taiwan like, ten times, or something – and I’ve only been stabbed twice (and one of those was with a chopstick, so that doesn’t even really count). Plus if you’re able to conquer your fears, the Asian tail is saweeeet.

Your daughter and wife are beautiful, but your fat and your hair is thin.

You have keen powers of perception, dear reader. I am indeed a bit oafish, and a good bit of my hair has gone the way of the dodo. I also agree heartily that my wife and daughter are some of God’s finest creations. However, I have a very logical explanation for it all: Panties shake loose in fits of laughter around me.

I can’t believe you think that fukken album is good, you must have retardness of the brain and cancer of the ear and a permanent shittaste in your mouth from all the shit you listen to. You are a dick idoit bitch. (written in response to this entry)

Whoa, padner… slooow your roll here. What gives you the right to criticize my taste in music?! I have a blog, you idiot, and that makes me an expert on whatever I deem myself an expert of. I won’t let your negativity impact my genius, I just won’t.

I think I also have this allergy. Did you ever feel itchy in the shower after football? (written in response to this entry)

Football? Shower?

do u go to mihs? i think i am who blew u in the field. (written in response to this entry)

Wow, where to start on this one – this is probably my favorite one to date. First off, no, I didn’t go to “MIHS.” Second, I’m preeety sure you’re not the girl I was, uhhh, writing about. Your first clue should have been the fact that you seem to be writing about events which transpired relatively recently, while I, on the other hand, am writing about something which happened in my storied past. Wow.

You could do this much easier with real robots. (written in response to this entry)

“Real” robots? Now why didn’t I think of that?

Brilliant! I showed this 2 my youth group that my stopid mom makes me go 2!! (written in response to this entry)

Just what I need on St. Peter’s roll when I show up, spreading heresy to impressionable kids. Seriously though, don’t take anything you read on the internet as gospel. In fact, don’t even take the gospel as gospel – question everything and you’ll be better for it.

Lately, my el-cheapo Pioneer receiver has started to tick me off. Thing is, I don’t even do anything with it. I don’t have a CD player hooked up anymore, it’s up in a box in the garage with my record player. I simply don’t listen to anything at home that’s not the free XM feeds that come with DirecTV, piped off the iPod, or playing from my hard drive – no need for all that media (in fact, all my already ripped CDs went into bins and subsequently into the rafters in this past weekend’s organization fit). Anyway, for some reason the damn thing has taken to enabling only the right speaker more often than not. Oh, the other speakers are still functional, the test tone confirms this, but they just don’t work. I fear an internal circuit inside the budget box has gone lame. Certainly not an insurmountable problem, but the whole thing just makes me think I’m being told it’s time to upgrade the whole A/V solution… plus stupid Pat keeps talking about the falling prices of flatscreens…

Well, that was nice. As for the rest of the week, I think I’ve got something creative planned for Thursday and Friday’s posts – if it works. For more good stuff today, pop over and read this piece – it’s a good one.

Goodnight.

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mostly pictures


Sunday I decided to organize the garage, partly because the house was in such disarray that I wanted to clean something. We had some folks over Saturday for football, Halloween prop-building, and smoked pork butt. Borrowed Pat’s homemade smoker, woke up at quarter to four to take the meat from it’s brine, dry-rub it, and put it in. So, Sunday morning found the house a little untidy – hence my OCD urge to clean and organize. Managed to make some more room by shifting things around and moving stuff up into the rafters. I’ve written before about how better utilizing the space we have makes me feel good, and today was no exception.

Not gonna write much today, don’t have much to say. Basically, I’ll just point you over to Keaton’s gallery – which has been updated with her week thirty-one pictures. I also added back the ability to comment, although with a little captcha style confirmation code. So, comment away again please.

Goodnight lovers.

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coffee and pizza


Hey hey Thursday again, and I’ve written nary a word as the clock tick-tick-ticks towards 8pm. I could be working on the new tombstones, but I’m not. Usually, when I come home from work, I take everything out of my pockets, peel of my shoes and socks and get down to a pair of shorts and my undershirt and then collect my cellphone and head to the living room. When I forget my cellphone on the dresser, I can’t hear it from the front part of the house. So, I end up missing calls. Later, when I find my cellphone and see how many missed calls I have I rarely return any phone calls, and even more rarely listen to the pileup of voicemails. I don’t know why I don’t listen to voicemail, I guess I have some notion that, if people want to talk to me or tell me something, they’ll probably call back. I know it’s a dick point of view, but if you’ll remember I’ve never actually said I wasn’t a dick.

Today I came home for lunch and made a pizza, those frozen oven kind with a french bread crust. I had four of the smallish pieces and some soda before playing with Keaton for a while, kissing her forehead, and heading back to a packed day at the office. When I came home, I decided to once again not mow the lawn (this is perhaps my longest dereliction of the duty), and I held and kissed and played with the baby a little more before Sharaun left for a “girls night out” with friends. On my own for dinner, I surveyed the options: leftover spaghetti (my go-to, always works, never tired of it meal), leftover sausage and peppers (but I’d have to cook some rice to put it on), or the remaining slices of the very pizza I had for lunch. Faced with the choices, I went with pizza. So, today, I had coffee and pizza; that’s it. Coffee and pizza do not fine-dining make, my friends. Not by far.

Update: Seems Apple fixed the artwork issue with the release of iTunes 7.0.2, read here to find out how I got my artwork back. Read on for my original entry.

Anyone else having issues with their 5G iPod not showing album art anymore after firmware 1.2 and/or iTunes 7.0.1? I consider the album artwork display feature to be one of the better “perks” of the iPod, but also one of the most poorly implemented. Why do some MP3s with embedded artwork just “work,” while the iPod seems to ignore others? Why do I have to uncheck the “show artwork” and then recheck it to get the iPod to “optimize artwork” so it’ll display properly? Should the damn thing “optimize” it when I drop the files onto it? Why did the new firmware/iTunes break artwork for newly-added albums?

Last night, I tried to fix this and the damn thing ate all my lovingly added artwork and now I can’t get it back. Oh, it’s still embedded in the files – it shows up in iTunes, just not on the iPod. I was so angry, I just laughed. Yeah, I was that mad. This website says I should “remove all the tracks” from my iPod and then “re-synchronize it.” Great, except I don’t use the “synchronize library” feature, I manually manage the songs and have no established library with which I can re-synchronize (the measly 60GB that is my iPod represents a mere fraction of my entire music collection). Moreover, there’s no “approved” way to get the tracks currently on my iPod off my iPod so I can re-add them. I guess, I’ll use SharePod to take all the songs off my iPod, blank it out, and then re-add them through iTunes 7.0.1. Yeah, I’ll do that when I have 3hrs to spare…

I’m not the only one either, others are also struggling with album art issues in 7.0. Anyway, I’m hoping somone will hit this page with a Google search for the subphrases “artwork shows in iTunes” and “not on iPod,” and comment here with a quick-fix because this…

If you are in manual mode, the ONLY way to put artwork back onto your iPod right now is to add the artwork to the song in iTunes and then re-transfer those tracks back to your iPod. The artwork can be added either manually or automatically, but it must be added to the file in iTunes and then the file transferred to the iPod.

…is bullshit. Goodnight.

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champagne and scallops


Sorry for yesterday’s lack of words, it was just an uninspired evening. I had one paragraph and figured it wasn’t worth it. Right now, Sharaun’s out and Keaton’s asleep and the Halloween prop timer just kicked on and I’m sitting here listening to Muddy Watters (sometimes run-ons just feel right, y’know?). Now Skinny Puppy’s Addiction from the 12″ collection came on, what a track. It’s a good night. Oh, and, rain either got into the coffin popper’s wiring today, or the motions sensor is shot – because that thing just started flipping out tonight… turning off and on with such rapidity that the corpse looked like he was having a postmortem seizure. I had to disable the solenoid to the pneumatic cylinder, bummer.

I have a sneaking feeling I’ve espoused on this theme before, but I can’t be bothered to look for it among the previous entries – maybe this one will be better. I think it’s funny that we’re at the time now where the Lollapalooza set is starting to settle into their married lives and have children. My idea of what parents should be was, of course, shaped by my parents. And let me tell you, the parents of my generation are definitely removed from that breed. More and more of the parents I meet today have shaggy hair and ten-gauge hoop earrings and tattoos. These are “kids” in their mid-thirties who’re still holding onto bits and pieces of the fads that defined them as youth: grunge, hip-hop, etc. I think it’s hilarious to see a dual-childseat equipped minivan rolling down the road with the Cure or Front 242 drifting from the speakers.

I realize that my personal realization here is likely not unlike the realizations of the generations before me when they stopped and noticed: “Hey, I’m not young anymore… folks my age seem to be hemorrhaging babies, getting divorces, and not being able to sit on the floor without their ‘joints getting sore.'” I’m sure that there comes a point (right around thirty, I’d suspect) in most people’s lives when they realize that their age bracket has moved to the “next phase.” I’m just at that point, and my “age bracket” makes for an interesting menagerie of a parents and children. In fact, I bet when my parents became parents, it was hard for them to imagine a bunch of thirtysomethings in poodle skirts and saddle shoes chewing Blackjack gum and raising kids. Every generation must go through that shock of “we’re not kids anymore, we’re raising kids now.” (Have I restated the same thought enough times yet?)

Get ready geezers, shape up grandparents – we’re the new generation of families, we’re the new parents.

Booked tickets for our trip home for Florida for Christmas this morning, ended up going with United at a premium of about $150 so I could use my “class of service” upgrades and get the mileage. Sucks to pay a grand just to get home before we can even start spending money while there, but I guess it’s a lesson learned for me. Next year, I’ll be putting away a small amount each month in preparation. Anyway, I was able to use my languishing 100k upgrades to get us 1st class for the entire itinerary – which, I suppose, is some small comfort… and perhaps justifies the $150 adder. At least we’ll be flying in style, maxin’ and relaxin’ with champagne and scallops. Sigh… next up: Thanksgiving tickets. Good thing I’m stinking rich. Oh wait, I’m totally not… sigh x2.

Last night I was on one of the message boards I frequently lurk on (I’m a member of nothing, but a reader of a lot), and a well known boarder posted that he was going to commit suicide. Some boarders told him not to, lots cheered him on. I wonder if that guy was serious?

For some reason, the TiVo’s been missing more shows than usual lately (I suspect some mega-conflict with the sheer number of programs we’ve set to record). Sharaun realized it missed a show she likes, and exactly 12min later I had it downloaded and was playing it in perfect quality on the TV via the laptop. It’s times like that, when I’m “stealing” TV shows, that I really value the coolness of the internet. When I stayed in Taiwan for a month last year, I was able to watch any US TV show I wanted.

Goodnight.

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the mojo is totally genetic


Friday, eff that noise they call the “week,” it’s time for the girls to pull the bottoms of their shirts up through the necks and tie them off in sexy 5th-grade playground faux-bikini knots. It’s time for boys to gingerly unbutton buttons that are on an alien side of the shirt to them. Time for the smell of Malibu Musk lingering on my lips, time to have to change my JC Penny boxers because we held hands on the way home. It’s the weekend and it’s gonna be massive. Me and the guys are going to hide in those bushes at the front of the subdivision and blindly shoot BB guns at the road when we hear the whine of passing cars. After that we’re gonna try and score some beer and on Sunday I swear I’m gonna fuck Tina… no, I swear guys – I am totally, totally, fucking her this time. Shut up; just wait.

I have this amazing Hold Steady album to thank for that 1st paragraph (well, that and the Steel Reserve I’ll get into below). Listening to this album and its sordid tales of drinking, drugging, and general teenaging… the words are like poems about the very debauchery I once embraced. You call it glorifying irresponsibility, I call it conjuring memories with style.

Bear with me folks, Pat and I hung out tonight and he bought two Steel Reserve tallboys for us to drink. And at 8.1% alcohol by terrible-tasting volume, one Steel Reserve tallboy is enough for anyone on a weeknight. All that malt liquor has had a couple effects on me which will be noticeable to you, my blog readership. 1. I don’t care so much about sentence structure and that kinda crap. 2. I’m going to write about some neato stuff that normally be hard to explain (i.e. I’d have to write a lot to get the idea across) because I won’t care that I’ve not established proper background. Here goes.

When I was a kid, I always thought my parents’ bed smelled odd. More specifically, my dad’s side of the bed. It’s not a smell I can describe, but it’s something unique and immediately recognizable. Also, I would not, then, have classified it as particularly pleasant. Now, however, that I’ve aged into a man myself – I know what this smell was. It is the patented family sleep-induced pheromones. That’s right, we’ve got our own special blend of aromatic excretions. Let me elaborate…

I first realized I had the family pheromones sometime in college. During these years, I slept on a waterbed. Every so often, when I’d wash my sheets, I’d notice an interesting “mark” on vinyl waterbed mattress directly under the area where I normally slept. Perhaps “mark” is a misnomer… a more accurate description might be “stain.” I’d always known that I “slept hot,” being prone to nighttime sweating and overheating – but this “stain” appeared to be more than just sweat. The defining moment came, however, late one night around 3am when I was up late coding a VHDL project with my lab group. As we pulled our all-nighter, I was the coder who happened to be manning the computer, while the other members of my group huddled behind me watching. One of the guys in our group, an outspoken Cuban who’s bluntness I respected, said, as he hovered close to my head, something like, “Dude, has anyone ever told you that you emit a ‘funk’ late at night?” “No,” I replied, “I’ve never head that… but now that you mention it, I think you might be right.”

It took a few more years (and an equally outspoken but much less Cuban wife) for me to realize that this was not some random observation. I not only emit some olfactory “funk,” but also some palpable one. An intoxicating mix of sweat, oils, and raw, raw man-scent. So strong is this “funk” that Sharaun actually complains about me ruining sheets. Apparently, I ruin pillows, sheets, and even mattresses with this incredible genetic advantage. I maintain that these “juices,” as they are, are the secret to my stunning success with women. Sure, I’m fat and balding… but one whiff of me at night and the ladies are reduced to quivering masses of “do me.” Sharaun gets mad at me because I call this my “mojo.” I have nothing else meaningful to say in this paragraph.

And guess what folks? Know how I can tell regular old fussy Keaton from “I’m dead-tired put me to bed” fussy Keaton? If she’s “I’m dead-tired put me to bed” fussy Keaton, her head will have a thin sheen of oil and sweat on it. I’m not joking, she’s got the mojo too… the mojo is totally genetic.

I told you I wasn’t going to care about structure or grammar… this thing is going up just like I wrote it, only spellcheck – no proofread for flow or even sense-making.

Damn… that Steel Reserve gave me the most awful headache. Goodnight.

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buy a new shirt and practice using your wang


Hellooo from Tuesday. I’m home alone, Sharaun’s at the gym, Keaton’s sleeping. Listening to my iPod, typing on my laptop, flirting with the idea of doing the dishes before Sharaun gets home… probably won’t (edit: I did). I’m very relaxed now, having the house to myself and only the living room light on; the front room is full of shadows and the Fallish weather outside is spilling in through the open back door. Sometimes a gray sky seems to “mute” outside sound to me, the way fog seems to – like cold and cloudy days are somehow more silent and contemplative. That’s how I feel now, reminds me of killing time on Fall days between classes back in college, makes me want to smoke my pipe (I always feel all introspective and Sherlocky when I smoke my pipe, I swear half the attraction there is psychological). Other than that, it’s a normal normal night.

At work, I associate with a lot of “lifer” engineers. Some of these folks are the kind of engineers who got into the field back in the 80s and maybe even 70s. Sometimes I look at these guys, with their unkempt gray mops and their hands void of any wedding ring, and think about how there’s a chance they’ve never had, nor ever will have, a significant other. You can see the hard core singles: body gone to pot (not that I’m one to criticise) and exhibiting the social abilities and etiquette of a grizzly bear. You can watch the bits of pizza dangling from their coffee-stained moustaches dance as they reach around themselves awkwardly to scratch their ass or pull up their ill-fitting faux-demin elastic-waist jeans. Hear their loud guffaws across the cafeteria as their similarly-afflicted tablemates make a joke about the hot chick on Firefly or reference Daleks or John Cleese. Have these men given up? Reverted back to some closeted adult rehash of their highschool A/V club? I feel for these guys, even though they likely don’t know what they’re missing. Hey lifers: Buy a new shirt and practice using your wang!

Spent a good bif of my not-on-meetings time at work this morning listening to the non-transcode leak of the new Hold Steady. I never got into any of the Hold Steady’s previous efforts, so I came to this album as a virgin to their sound. Not knowing what to expect, but with a decent amount of anticipation due the near unanimous nutting of respected critics, I queued up the folder. What I heard sounded like a follow-up to Darkness on the Edge of Town or the E Street one. One thing is clear, this is rock and roll – good ol’ American rock and roll that just sounds like America. I’m still listening, and still mulling it over, but the immediate early Springsteen-likeness perked up my ears fairly fast. I think it’s gonna be a good one, much better than the disappointing Swan Lake leak people are also swooning about… I’m still kinda bored with that one. How can it not be better when it has songs called “Party Pit” with lyrics like “I’m gonna walk around and drink.” Now that, my friends, is American youth… walking around at parties and drinking, and that’s it… drinking and walking… walking and drinking. Some of these songs make me want to be “young” again. Amen.

Continuing the tunes theme, Pitchfork reviewed the new Decemberists, and rightfully gave it high marks. It’s an outstanding album, one that I didn’t take to immediately, but only out of shortsighted ignorance. After a few listens, the thing took on a new life to me, with songs that tell stories moreso than 90% of the songwriting out there today, and a slightly “bigger” sound than on their previous efforts. I love it now, and realize I was in denial before. We all learn in time, all in time.

Even though it took me a while, I did manage to get a “best of” collection of pictures posted from our 4×4/camping bachelor party for Ben last weekend. You can check out the snaps here if you’re so inclined.

Oh, and for some reason tonight I asked Sharaun what she’d think if I bought a pistol. She was surprisingly receptive, but stated that she’d want to go shooting several times to get comfortable handling anything we did end up with, and that she’d want us to take a reasonable amount of care in storing/securing/locking/whatever the gun in the house. I was pretty surprised. I’m not really rushing out to buy a gun or anything, as I’m only half-sure I want one, but I was kinda surprised that she’d be OK with it regardless.

Goodnight.