anthematic?


Mowed the lawn today, and the iPod’s shuffle function was feeling anthemic. Now, when I wrote that sentence in my head as I mowed, the word “anthemic” sounded awesome. In fact, the word “anthemic” was the entire reason I wanted to write the sentence, I wanted so badly to use it – as it just sounded great in my head, and I figured it would look so sexy on the screen (sans serif, of course). How crushed do you think I was when I banged it out at the keyboard and the little red dots popped up underneath it when I hit the space bar to move onto the next word. “What, ‘anthemic’ isn’t a word?” I thought. Bollocks. A quick Google search to vindicate me – no definition quicklink in the upper right for “anthemic.” Dang, what’s going on here. Maybe it’s “anthematic?” Little red dots again. Well, that was such a bust – and I was so geared up, a shame. I’m gonna use it anyway, ’cause it makes you just want to drop your pants: anthemic. What I meant to say was, the iPod played long greats like Weezer’s “Only In Dreams,” and Death Cab for Cutie’s “Transatlanticism.” I mowed with a grin; the weather was perfect.

I think it should be illegal to sell dishtowels that don’t actually absorb water. I hate this. Hate it with a passion. We must have twenty dishtowels at home, all of which aren’t worth their weave but for the microfiber ones. Those microfiber ones are like those super-mashed up t-shirts you get at trade shows, you know the ones that are unbelievably compressed into shapes like little rocketships or wrenches or tennis shoes (depending on the trade show, of course). Everything else is jack. Don’t be fooled, my painstaking research has proven that about 90% of dishtowels just push water around and don’t absorb a drop. If you want a towel that will actually dry your dishes, get the microfiber ones… they are the jonk.

Wow folks, a few months ago, I was busy ripping through my entire CD collection, turning them into MP3s. And, since I’m anal and I like all my audio files to be tagged correctly (i.e. contain the right artist, album, track, etc. data embedded into the file), I oft-lamented on the difficulty of getting my treasured Beatles bootlegs (or bootlegs in general, for that matter) to properly tag-up. The lack of a centralized CDDB-style database for bootlegs was the main problem. Back then, I decided to do something about it and I wrote a script for the great freeware tagging app, the Godfather, that would go out and “scrape” the then-incomparable bootlegzone.com website for tag data. The script was complex, full-featured, and worked like a charm. With its help, I automatically tagged up hundreds of Beatlegs… all with the press of a button. That whole time, I kept thinking, “What if bootlegzone went offline tomorrow?” Me, with hundreds of untagged bootlegs still to go and so much invested in my script… I’d’ve been heartbroken. Well, fate, this time, it seems, spared me. As of sometime late last month, bootlegzone went dark for good. Sad to see it go, but glad I got to exploit its labors before it died. Believe me though, in the Beatleg world, it’s a big deal.

In Keaton news, she’s begun to stand unassisted at every chance she gets. Sharaun or I will say, “No hands!” and she’ll throw her hands in the air and squeal like she’s riding an imaginary roller coaster. So far, she seems more interested in perfecting her standing technique than she does taking any real steps – but we have been able to get her to take a single step by moving away from her and holding her hand. She can push into a standing position from sitting, so I’m assuming walking isn’t far off. Things move fast. Speaking of Keaton, I managed to get up a new series of images to her gallery – check ’em out here.

Thanks.

weekend minus one


Friday tomorrow, and we have an “off-site” event at work, which means it’s gonna be just a little more than a half day and then an afternoon of early beers and some snooker. I think it’ll be a nice way to ease into the weekend. As for the weekend, I don’t have many plans. Sharaun is leaving me with Keaton all day Saturday while she goes snowboarding. I’m thinking we’ll maybe walk to the park or something. At some point I have big plans to mow and fertilize the lawn, and maybe install a screen door.

My website was down most of the day today, some database issues on the host side which I hope they’ve now worked through. Not that I’m losing millions in trade for every minute of downtime, but I’m sure Sharaun’s grandmother in Florida thinks her computer is broken when she goes to look at Keaton’s new pictures and gets a 404. I really think that blog comment spam is what may be causing my somewhat frequent database issues, as my host limits the number of database “connects” I can have in any given time-chunk. Every time a spam comment gets written to the database (which still happens, even though Akismet catches them and relegates them to an unpublished “spam” queue for later review), it counts against my “max connections” ceiling. Honestly, that’s the only thing I can see pushing me over the limit. Also, though, I think my host has weak database support on my current plan (where I share a single server with hundreds of other users’ websites, and we’re all getting a slice of the same MySQL pipe on the backend). I could upgrade to a virtualized dedicated server – but that costs dough. Anyway, sorry for the nerd-talk.

My beard is progressing nicely and is now rather fuzzy and voluminous, little hairs jutting this way and that in a nice thick tangle. Whenever I’m in the car, I strain my neck to admire it in the rearview. I love watching the water drip off it in streams during my morning shower, and the fact that the fuzz of it obscures the bottom lobe of my ear in the mirror. I have these visions of the pictures from this summer’s future camping trips, where I have this massive jumble of beard hanging off my chops, like the mountain man I always dream about but will never be. Sometimes I wonder if, come the day I decide I want to shave it all off (never?), Keaton will recognize me the same. I know she’ll know who I am, but I can’t help but think she’s gotten used to unshaven daddy as the one true daddy – any other daddy might just be an impostor.

I’m all pumped because Sharaun and I and a bunch of friends all got tickets to see the Arcade Fire play at the Greek Theatre in Berkeley in June. There are still tickets left, so get ’em and join us there – the whole venue is general admission so it should be blissful anarchy trying to jockey for the good seats. Yay! Arcade Fire in an outdoor venue on a nice June night… I can’t wait.

Goodnight.

life gets in the way


Took a hiatus from writing last week, work was busy and I was occupied in the evenings. Life sometimes gets in the way of blogging, I guess. Actually, I have nothing to write tonight, and am just not in the mood – but I had some crap stuff that I forgot to delete last week I figured I’d use to fill the space. This weekend I spent a lot of time vacating multiple pieces of hardware from our “computer room” and consolidating them into a brand new single computer which now lives in the built-in niche in our kitchen. I didn’t like the built-in niche when we bought the house, figured it too small for a proper computer desk (it is, really), but now I like it. Sharaun likes it too, since she can be out here with Keaton. Anyway, now we can turn that room into a real guest room.

People, please, please stop calling me asking how to install the pirated software you downloaded from BitTorrent. If you have no idea how to unRAR or unZIP a file, if you can’t comprehend having to burn a .bin/.cue file to a CD before using or (or God forbid using a virtual drive to read the ISO), or if you have no idea how to navigate a folder tree in Windows or understand where the hell something you just downloaded or extracted went on your drive – pirating software isn’t for you. If you can’t understand the concept of a keygen, don’t know what a readme is, or have know idea how to run a patch in the root directory – give up and pay the damn $30 to do your taxes.

Just because the software is out there for free, and you can call me to walk you through the installation process (something that will take 10x the time it would were I there with you) doesn’t mean you are entitled to use it for free. In fact, if you have no idea what a RAR file is, you have no business trying to bootleg software… so give up. And please, stop calling me and making me ask things like, “Did you unRAR it? Where did you extract it to? What do you mean you don’t know? Go back and do it again, pay attention. No. That’s in your My Documents folder. Where? It’s under your username… what? OK, double-click on My Computer… No, you’re gonna need to patch that DLL. Just put the file called patch.exe in the directory. What? No, where extracted it. Oh, you don’t see extensions, and you have to show hidden/protected files. Go to Properties…” Ugh!

Keaton seems to be getting over her double ear infections quite nicely, with the help of some foul-smelling medicine we have to keep in the fridge. Her eyes have stopped gooping and her nose is less runny (she’s still got a nasty cough, though). Lately, I’ve been noticing her “getting older.” The way she plays with me, the little things she does when she’s wrapped up in her own world, she just acts older or something – more like a little kid than a little baby. She’s going too fast.

Goodnight.

reevaluating invincibility


Tuesday evening and Sharaun’s at a volleyball game. I put Keaton down to bed about 15min ago, and am now enjoying some Malajube whilst writing up tonight’s blog.

Before tonight, I was off to a slow start on Kerouac’s On The Road. The long introduction was interesting, but stole some of the immediate thunder I had expected. But, oh man, once I got into the book proper I was spellbound. Kerouac’s writing seems just barely strung-together enough to tell a story, like it was written in some mad fit (I know, it was) as if he was afraid it all had to come out at once or else be lost (I know, he did); but at the same time it’s so beautifully detailed and descriptive that I’m almost there with him, belting back whiskey on a flatbed racing across the west. I’m only six chapters in but I can barely put the thing down. I can’t wait until he gets to San Francisco. That said, then, I’ll go ahead and write this up snap-quick so I can get to reading, maybe get my voracious on. Here we go.

I think it’s time for me to reevaluate my invincibility. Over the past couple years, the number of times my body has succumbed to sickness or ailment has risen sharply. I used to be untouchable, completely impenetrable to disease. Recently, though, I’ve had to take a day off work here, another there, and have lost a few good weekend days to sleeping and sniffling. Is this what happens when you get old? Instead of ignoring the signals my body gives me, should I now pay attention to them and react accordingly? What crap. When did I become weak? This morning, I woke up with a sore shoulder, apparently my body didn’t like the way I slept on it, it ailed me all day, pins and needles. I remember when I could sleep in the reclined front seat of a Nissan Sentra and wakeup no worse for wear. Then, my mouse-hand has been protesting some movements lately, almost like the years of totally un-ergonomic use I’ve forced it to endure are coming to bear. Sometimes, I even get heartburn after eating a burrito (extra large, extra-extra spicy, please). What’s worse, I get super sleepy around 4pm every day. Oh Father, why hast Thou forsaken me?

A thought occurred to me the other day whilst pondering some work stuffs. I’m sure you’ve all heard the phrase “good old boy” used in reference to the way some organizations are run. Usually what’s meant by this is that a small network of back-slappin’ buddies run the company, promoting and demoting according to how well others fit into their “good ol’ boy” mold. So that regular Joes sometimes feel like their chances of being favored or given the big job or being promoted are hindered because they didn’t go duck hunting with the clique on the weekend, or some other such nonsense. Anyway, what I was thinking was, that this whole notion of a “good old boy network” probably isn’t that wrong, and furthermore shouldn’t be that surprising.

Dealing with people is tough, there are so many assholes, so many who are ungrateful, so many who are under-appreciative and over-demanding, so many who are abrasive, impossible to relate to, unpredictable, unprofessional, abstract, difficult. The old adage rings true, you know, “birds of a feather…” I wonder, though, if this “flock together” pack-mentality may be the subconscious (and sometimes all-too conscious) reason behind the classic “good ol’ boy network?” By surrounding yourself with an army of like-yous, you have to deal with a lot less. You know a lot better where the lines are, know what’ll motivate and what’ll correct. It makes me think, however, that the school of “relationship based management” may have hit on something. Developing relationships with the people you work with and who work for you is probably a good way to avoid the “easy out” tendency to populate the ranks with you-clones. Whatever, all I was trying to say is that maybe those folks who look at the good ol’ boy network with envy are just the square pegs…

It’s been well-established now that I love ARGs (Alternate Reality Games). I think my first real experience with the genre was the with the whole Lost Experience thing, which seems late when you consider the “I Love Bees” stuff and many of the other “armchair treasure hunts” which have gone on, but arguably I was smitten all the way back when the Smashing Pumpkins did something very similar with their album Machina, and I was way into that. I also got into the whole Lonelygirl15 thing for much of the same reasons. The idea that you can participate with others in a real-life Hardy Boys type mystery adventure is awesome to me. So, when I found out that the Nine Inch Nails, a collective of whom I’ve been a casual fan since high school, are slowly “leaking” tracks from the new album “Year Zero” as part of a viral marketing slash ARG thing, I was thrilled. Not only do I get awesome tunes, I get to follow a neat post-apocalyptic storyline to boot.

Goodnight.

life been good


I had a small epiphany today. I was walking across the tarmac at the jet center, the black asphalt was shiny with rain, reflecting the milky-white light of the clouds above. I was wearing khakis and a tucked-in corporate logo’d polo, and I was carrying my laptop in a black bag. I had just come from a sushi lunch with some customers (they picked up the bill), and was about to board the corporate jet for a quick flight home, where I’d greet my wife and daughter with kisses The epiphany? This: I’m doing pretty well; things are going pretty good. I never really imagined myself being where I am and doing what I’m doing, but I find I like it. Long tarmac walks to the corporate jet are good for reinforcing “arrival.” Blah blah I’m awesome toot-toot.

From yesterday, never posted:

I’m tired, Sharaun pulled me out the door right when I got home from a workday that started early to begin with, no time to decompress. But it was good, visited our friends and their new baby boy, brought them some food. Swung by Target to return a crappy coffee maker we bought, then came home and put Keaton to bed. For dinner, I microwaved two potatoes. I covered them with butter and sour cream and all sorts of yummy stuff and then smashed them up and ate them. I’m going to a customer tomorrow, so I need to shave tonight, tidy up the beard. I want to do it tonight to give my pussy-ass skin some time to get over it’s extreme razor sensitivity. I fly out at 6:45am, meaning I have to leave at the buttcrack. Back again around 4pm, a man on the go.

Today I freaked out a little because it looks like my ISP is on to me. Not only did they block the port I’ve been forever using for BitTorrent traffic, but they also seemingly shut down my transfers – a feat that’s seemingly based on traffic analysis. So, I had to resort to encrypting all outgoing BitTorrent traffic to bypass the suspected filtering, and switch to rotating, random ports. It kinda freaks me out, but I’m hoping my shutdown wasn’t a singled-out user thing and more like a broad BitTorrent policy change at my ISP. Not a big deal though, as with encryption and random ports I’m back in business with little to no impact in speed.

Off to read, just figured I’d push this anyway… despite it being sub-par. Goodnight.

ready for the weekend


8pm and Keaton’s in bed so the laptop came out. Or, the laptop came out because Keaton’s in bed. My domain seems to be completely down, so I’m writing in EditPad in the hopes it’ll be up later and I can post. I could go on and put down my standard sentence about how busy work was today, using words like “whirlwind” and “crushing,” because it was – but I wont. Oh, just did. Anyway, I’ve got a glass of nice wine and have already done the dishes, and I’ve got a glass of nice wine. I did? Oh, must be the wine.

Recently, I traded in my Maxim subscription for a Newsweek subscription. This was partly instigated by Sharaun, although I don’t think it was any sort of edict. More of a suggestion, I think. Her logic being that Maxim may not be the right magazine to have around the house for baby Keaton. I’m not so alarmist, but do see the logic. I’d much rather Keaton see her dad perusing a Newsweek instead of a Maxim (actually, in order to see me perusing either, she’d likely have to catch me on the john… and that’s just undesirable all around). I sometimes think it’s silly to think of those kinda things when she’s not even one, but then again right now she’s learning action-for-action and word-for-word from us. So, I suppose sacrificing soft-porn ain’t such a bad idea. I mean, I’ve still got the internet for the real-deal.

Three more Arcade Fire tracks leaked tonight, that makes it just two shy of the entire thing. Thing is, the tracks are of varying quality and source. I’ve never seen anything leak like this, the randomness seems almost deliberate. Makes a guy wonder if it might not be the work of some savvy PR guy with a knowledge of the internets. Maybe leak a track every week or so in passable quality, something like a buffet of free-appetizers that always has a really long line and is only a front to sucker you into buying a full-price dinner at the end of your drawn-out, unsatisfied wait. Whatever, I’m happy to have what I have – I just want a proper!

Also in music news, the rumor mill is abuzz about the iTunes/Beatles deal. Apparently, it will be announced during the Super Bowl that all the original studio albums will be available, and remastered at that. The Beatles catalog finally remastered and available digitally… wow. I can only hope it won’t be some iTunes “exclusive” that’s not released on physical discs – I’d hate to be stuck with M4As.

I want tomorrow to go fast. I want it to be over before I know it. I’m ready for the weekend.

Goodnight.

so, i’m set


Didn’t write yesterday, my normally allotted time was spent supping and drinking with customers. It was good though, lots of that “schmoozing” stuff that business is all about. Work blows. Buuuut, after work there’s home (or, to the overworked, “not work”), and, at home, it’s awesome. I get a few hours to play with my daughter. Tonight, I played with her on the couch – she likes to climb on me and I like to let her.

Speaking of Keaton, it’s been quite a while since I updated her pictures. This not because I’m lazy, I mean, I am, but it’s more because our camera finally completely gave up the ghost. So, Monday I ordered an SD700 IS, and we hope to be flush with pictures again in short order. Look for them. I was a little bummed that the camera came with a puny SD card, but then perked up when I read it could support MMC. A while back, I bought a 1GB MMC card for my cellphone, and I’ve since upgraded phones. So, I’m set. I just wonder if MMC is slower or otherwise suckier than SD somehow.

Sharaun’s got me watching American Idol again. And, once again, I find myself positively confounded by some of the “stinkers” they trot out on these first-pass episodes. I love watching these peoples’ hearts break. Sadistic as it is, I get a warm happy feeling inside when I realize that the person who’s up there singing so badly I think they must just be taking a piss is really and truly giving their all and firmly believe they are God’s gift to singing. To see that moment when it begins to sink in, that the gift they believe they are endowed with is no gift at all. It’s doubly enjoyable if the one taking the berating refuses to believe they are terrible, and decides to continue to live deluded. Seriously, I sit there and pretend not to watch (gotta maintain my “cred” with the wife), all the while rooting for these saps to bust out in tears. I honestly have a hard time believing these people aren’t acting, because they seem so utterly disconnected with reality. I wrote a good paragraph about it three years ago, check it out.

Sharaun’s been off planning Keaton’s first birthday, you’d think it was a coronation. We’ve got invitations, grandparents making the trip into town, and even a theme. I wonder what my first birthday was like? I’ll wager I didn’t napkins that matched the plates that matched the bibs that matched the invitations, I’ll wager there weren’t invitations at all, in fact. Kids are a great excuse to indulge, to join the consumers for the good of the economy. One day though, we’ll be able to show her pictures that prove how much we love her, monetarily, even.

Before I go, I thought I’d pass along this list of “gay bands” which Christians should watch out for. My favorite part is down near the bottom:

In Our effort to keep this list up to date we’d appreciate your help. If you know of a band that is Gay or propagating a Gay message please email us so we can update.

Hahaha! If I know of a band that is gay?! Wait.. John Mayer is gay?! Goodnight.