Posts

Posted on

i lose, you win

Friday!  Hey weekend, thanks for finally getting here.

I don’t know if it’s that nothing interesting happens to me during the day, or it’s that I’m so totally obsessed with this election at this point that I’m afraid all I can write about is dry old politics – but I stayed away from writing last night for one reason or another.

Today at work I ran one of my best meetings in recent memory.  At the sawmill, I run a weekly “staff” for my team, where we come together and talk about all manner of things.  Since the meeting is typically a clearing-house for topics, and is intended to air out whatever needs airing out for the benefit of all to hear – it can often be a tedious, albeit purposeful and important, use of the team’s time.  Today, however, I really enjoyed myself.

See, today I reviewed my year-end “manager survey” scores with the team.  My employees are asked twice yearly to anonymously complete a very brief survey on how I’m doing as their manager.  The questions are short and meant to be representative of the sawmill’s central tenants of management.  From the answers, you’re supposedly able to tell how I’m performing as a people manager.  And, while I have a couple doubts about just how indicative or accurate the results really are, there is no doubt the data is meaningful – as it came from the people I need most in order to be successful myself.

The cool thing about going over your flaws is that it allows you  to give people a small sense of empowerment.   Let me explain:  When I share where I scored low or unfavorably, I can almost see invisible smiles flicker and then instantly fade as someone realizes that, yes, their feedback was heard.  Some managers would hate this, perhaps, but I really enjoy sharing with the team where the team thinks I need a bit more polish.  Not only is the feedback extremely useful in shaping what I work on as a manager, but it also vindicates and gives gravity to the opinions of the “troops.”

By publicly acknowledging the things they’ve rated you low on, and sharing with them your plans to improve – you’re telling them not only that they’re opinion has an impact, but also allowing them to direct you for a change.  And, for some reason, that makes me happy.

Oh, what’s that? You say you want to know what I scored low on?  Well, without getting into details – most of it had to do with being too awesome, too handsome, and too productive.

Goodnight.

Posted on

imposters!

Tuesday night and I’m stuck here again, right around that part where I begin everything with something like, “XXXday night and here I am again.”  I guess I could just say something like: “Hey Tuesday folks,” or maybe, “One day closer to hump day, one hump day closer to the weekend.”  Something like that.

Ween is on the iPod (Sharaun is at her volleyball game, so I get another TV-free all-tunes evening), I saw these guys when I was around fifteen in some small hole-in-the-wall club in Melbourne, Florida.  Myself and a crew of about six guys got dropped off by someone’s folks, and proceeded to hang out in front of the gas station asking random sketchy-looking dudes if they’d buy us beer.  After striking out, we entered the club empty-handed – no beer, no dope, no nothing.  For fourteen year old punks, the prospects were slim.  But we still had the show.

We regarded Ween as mostly a joke, as we were listening to the Pure Guava album at the time and songs like “Push the Lil’ Daisies” didn’t do much to bolster any “serious musician” cred.  But, at the show, Ween was amazing (I’ve looked and looked and looked online for a bootleg of that particular show, would be amazing to hear it again all these years later… and Ween has a fanatic fanbase of live show collectors, so I assume it’ll show up eventually).  They played a blistering million-minute cover of Prince’s “Purple Rain,” which proved they could play… so why all the crap on the records?

We begged them for “Big Jilm,” which had become a running joke amongst the group as maybe the most retarded song ever made (sorry retarded people).  They replied that the tape loop for that song was busted, and this had us howling almost as much as when they launched into tracks like “Hey Fat Boy, Asshole,” and, “Flies On My Dick,” which they dedicated to their grandparents – who were actually in the audience.  What an amazing night for some kids…

Oh gosh look, I wrote about it before, and seem to remember there being dope.  Who knows…

OK, let’s move on to the meat.

I am not now, nor have I ever been, a “social networking” kinda guy.  Not on MySpace, not on Facebook, not on Bebo or LinkedIn or any of those other all-the-rage sites.  Never will be either, I just don’t cotton to the canned nature of the pages and the stupid back-and-forth banter.  So, that’s something you now know about me.

My brother, however, has a MySpace profile.  Now, I know I don’t write about my brother much here on the bloggy-blog-blog, but he’s a good guy and I like him a lot.  I don’t deride him for having a MySpace thingy – I know plenty of people who have ’em, it’s totally cool.  In fact, I used to visit his page occasionally just to see what he had posted or what his buddies (or whatever MySpace dubs them) were talking about.

Some time ago (been a long while now), my bro set his MySpace page to private.  I think this means only people he knows or has “friended” or whatever can see his stuffs.  I still have the link bookmarked though, and occasionally I’ll go there to see if maybe he’s un-privated the thing.  I never have any luck, the thing’s always still private – but I can at least see his little picture, his “current mood,” and his little tagline/motto thing.

But, what I noticed tonight, and what I wanted to write about, is the bottom of the page.  Down there after MySpace tells you the profile is “private,” it offers you a consolation prize by following up with, “Here are some public profiles you may find interesting.”  I can only assume the logic behind what I may find interesting is MySpace looking at the details behind my brother’s private profile, comparing them to the millions of other profiles on MySpace, and serving up those with some degree of commonality.  I imagine they look at age, interests, school and professional history, taste in music, links, comments, etc., etc., etc.

So, what worries me is the rank-and-file losers it pitches me as “public” stand-ins for my “private” brother.  MySpace, how dare you boil down my bro to this douchebag parade?!

Actually, I don’t know any of these guys… so I guess it’s kinda mean to assume they are, or label them as, “losers.”  Sorry guys.

For all I know, SHoRtYRoC is a Rhodes scholar.  Matt and Brian appear to share hats – so that shows kindness; and S.A.G. appears to be a real gangsta so I better reserve comment on him.  Randy and Scooter… oh Randy, oh Scooter… guys…  And I could go either way on Patrick.  But, just looking at them in aggregate, I don’t think they have much bearing on tho “who” of my little bro.

So, who is my brother?  I wrote this about him a few years ago:

Frank is my brother. His real name is John. When I was in the 4th grade (I think), I was of the opinion that the name “Frank” was one of the dumbest names a human could have (my apologies to all the Franks out there who are offended by that, but I was young). I started calling my brother Frank to be funny, or mean, or a little of both. Incredibly, the name stuck. Stuck hard. So hard, in fact, that by the time he was in high school, that’s all anyone knew him by. He even got “Frank” sewn on his Little League jacket.

Unfortunately, Frank endured many years of torture at my hands – both physical and psychological. I threw the cat in the bathtub with him; I brainwashed him into admitting guilt for things I’d done; I used to punch him as hard as I could every time I died playing Nintendo; he always had to be Luigi. When we were young, we were the best of friends. I remember playing Star Wars in the back yard, we used a shovel to dig the Sarlacc’s pit that Han got flung into (much to my mom’s chagrin). I remember tying ropes around the necks of our stuffed animals, and swinging them around in giant circles, pretending they were on some ride at the carnival. We were best buds.

I don’t know when that ended, but now we’re more like old friends who are flirting with the idea of having a brotherly relationship. My bro dropped out of high school in his junior year. We weren’t very close during those times, but I imagine he had a lot of the same experiences I did at his age… and he, too, lived through them (apparently the family mettle is strong). I hope Frank and I can get back to the days of Sarlacc pits and stuffed animal abuse one day, at least in spirit.

I wrote that sometime in 2000.  I’m happy to say that the sad-sounding ending isn’t really applicable anymore, and my brother and I have a fairly normal relationship at this point.  So, suck it MySpace.

Not comprehensive, but not bad.  Goodnight folks.

Posted on

stick to blocks

A pleasantly productive-feeling Monday at work.

As the pendulum swings, this was one of those days where I felt like some of the work I do may actually impact something for the company when all is said and done.  I guess that means later this week it’ll swing back the other way and I’ll be left reminding myself the beast wouldn’t blink were I to disappear off the Earth.  Thankfully, my family still needs me.

Well, maybe not tonight… since Sharaun’s out and I’m here alone (Keaton’s already sleeping) listening to some John Mayall on the iPod.  And, even though I’ve turned down the volume on the Halloween display’s “ambient sound” (which is just howling wind, hooting owls, and some crow-caws on an endless loop) the sound is still dribbling through the front door and driving me mad.

Mmm… gotta be some blog around here somewhere…

Usually sometime after I get home in the evening, I’ll queue up the day’s episode of Countdown and watch it.  I know, I know… it’s about as left-loving as you can get, but I sometimes temper it with some O’Reilly Factor just so I’m not 100% brain-poisoned.  Anyway, today Keaton came out and sat on my lap during the show and, after a couple minutes of watching, told me she’d like to watch a Backyardigans.  Not really thinking before replying, I chose the flat-out lying route and said, “This is The Backyardigans, babe.”  “Not it’s not!,” she corrected me, “it’s Obama!”

Wow… too much politics on the TV methinks.  I don’t need a policitaclly aware two-and-a-half year old, thank you very much.  Anyway, we already have her saying prayers for McCain and Palin every night at 5pm PST (3pm CST, 2pm EST) so the liberal Satanists don’t make all the weddings be gay weddings.  Dude, kidding… totally kidding, OK?  Sheesh.

You know what I find amazing to think about.  Once, in the year 2003, I wrote a blog on the world-wide-web about some of the silly things I used to do back in gradeschool – which, by the way, was way back in the year 1988.  Then, that entry garnered a comment from someone who was actually in that fifth-grade class with me so many years ago – and he remembered me doing the silly stuff I was writing about.  That, my friends, is one of the reasons I love blogging (not that it happens all the time or anything).  But, really, the internet has made some amazing things possible… no?

I guess I have to end this somehow…

It’s 11:16pm now and I just got up from my laptop-side perch on the couch (the iPod is playing Ben Folds Five now, their self-titled debut… a truly seminal album from my college years) to take a pee.  As I rounded the corner into the hallway I gasped aloud at what lay before me: There, at my feet, was my beautiful and sound-asleep daughter laying face-down on the carpet in the middle of the hall.  I was actually so surprised to see her there I stood shell-shocked for a few seconds before scooping her up and taking her to bed.

She does that sometimes, sneaks out of her unlocked door and army-crawls to within inches of the hallway where she can hear and/or peek out and see Sharaun and I – but we typically hear her do it and can redirect her right away. I have to think she was there for quite a while tonight, she looked completely comfortable.  Dang this lulling music and stupid howling Halloween wind for masking her telltale steady breathing!  If the iPhone camera had a flash (I know, ridiculous, right?) I would’ve snapped  a picture to accompany the entry… but as it stands you’ll have to take my word for it.

That girl is hilarious to me.  I less-than-three her so bad.

Goodnight.

Posted on

pumpkins in a wagon

Sunday and another busy weekend draws to its end.

Tonight, after I cleaned out the Halloween workshop (garage) so we can put the cars in again, we packed Keaton into the wagon and all went for a walk down to the market to pick out some pumpkins (funny enough, we didn’t actually buy pumpkins while we were up at the real pumpkin patches last weekend – so we did the “city” version instead today).  It was a nice trip, and, besides, I’ve never pulled a wagon through the aisles of a supermarket before.

Saturday I made the final-final (fingers crossed) repairs and adjustments to all the props, and they’ve all been running fine since.  Now if they can just make it to Halloween night and be in good working order so I can entertain some trick-or-treaters, I’ll be happy.

As Fall continues to creep up around us slowly here in Northern California, I find myself wishing we’d get a good hard rain.  We haven’t had rain here in what seems like forever, since our seasons aren’t as wide-open as places like my previous home of Central Florida.  And, even though we rarely get any worth-mentioning thunder and lightning, I’d gladly take a day stuck inside for a decent thunderstorm.  Something about rain, and I’m certain I’ve written about this before, something about being safe and dry indoors as the rain pours down outside… is very soothing and satisfying to me.  So c’mon rain, come get us wet over here… I’m waiting.

While I was cleaning the garage today, I wanted to put a couple ten-foot lengths of conduit up in the rafters for storage.  Keaton had come out with me (she absolutely loves spending time with me in while I “work” in the garage, she hovers around me asking me questions about what I’m doing and offering to “help” – I love it), and she was tossing around a little bouncy ball as I picked up.  Seeing the unused conduit, I grabbed both lengths near the middle and began to swing them around to position them towards the rafters.  I watched as I maneuvered them so I wouldn’t hit the hanging florescent lights or the workbench behind me, but as I did I heard aloud “thud” and immediately thought I’d hit the workbench.  But, as soon as I heard the impact Keaton began screaming.

In a panic I dropped the pipe and turned to see her bent over clutching her face.  Freaking out now (the sound of the pipe hitting something had made me think I hit something really solid, so I knew she had received a good whack), and cursing myself for working with the long and awkward pieces of metal while she was around, I darted over and scooped her up.  “Where does it hurt, baby?,” I asked, brushing her hair from her face.  Oh crap, she was holding her eye… “My eye!,” she wailed.  Getting more worried, I asked her to open her eye, half expecting the worst.  Thankfully, her eye looked fine, and I finally noticed the little red mark on the bridge of her nose – near her eye but not in her eye.  After the couple seconds I’d taken to initially check her out, I rushed inside with her still crying to put some ice on the bump.

Turns out that after some ice and comforting, she was just fine; but I ended up feeling like a careless dad again for smacking my own daughter in the face with some metal pipe.  It’s a good thing the Lord makes babies tough, ’cause they get hurt a lot it seems.  I’m just waiting for the first broken bone or stitches… you know it’ll happen.

OK folks, gonna stop writing now and read a little.  Have a good Monday and I’ll talk to you later.  Bye.

(Pssst!  OMG can you please look at the picture of Job and Keaton Megan posted last night (scroll down, it’s the last one.)

Posted on

getting my #2 time back

Friday, and despite thinking this whole evening that I wasn’t going to write, here I am sitting down at 10:30pm giving it the old college try.

My favorite thing about Friday?  It’s always followed by Saturday and that’s the day a bunch of people come over to our house to watch college football all day.  Thursday, even Thursday’s good because it’s almost Friday.  But, whatever…

You know when everything is going right with your complicated animated Halloween props and you’re all like, “Man, my complicated animated Halloween props are dialed-in this year!”  You’re all proud and happy and triumphant and stuff?  Isn’t that always the time that the blacklight you have mounted to the underside of the porch decides to fall off and hang in the path of your crank ghost’s motor arm?  You know, totally tangling the thing into a twisted mess and nearly overworking the motor to the point of death?  Yeah man, me too.  That crap always happens to me.  Ugh… just more work guys… just more work…

Keaton likes to do this new thing where, while I’m seated in the bathroom, she opens the door and asks me, among other random and non-urgent questions, how I’m doing.  At first I found this a little disturbing – as even in my own house around the woman I’ve been with for fifteen years, I’m a door-closed kinda #2 guy.  But, as she continued to do it (displaying an almost ESP-esque knack for knowing when I’m pinching a loaf), I guess I sort of got used to it.  Lately though, I’ve taken to latching the door while I’m in there.

Why?  I’ll tell you why.

I miss my smelly little sanctuary.  No one used to bother me in that room; I could read the Newsweek (or stray People if Sharaun had left one), surf the internet on my iPhone (is that gross?  I kinda think it might be gross), or simply rest my chin on my hands and enjoy the silence.  And, as much as I love my daughter – even to the point of allowing her to interrupt my bomb-dropping – I just need my time, y’all.  So, she’ll come to the door, fiddle with the handle, ask me, in a muffled voice, “Dad?  What are you doing, Dad?,” and eventually give up when I don’t let her in.

And that’s how I got my #2 time back.  Goodnight.

Posted on

halloween ’08 “walk-up”

Good evening beautiful denizens of the interwebs.

Hope your Wednesday was OK; mine was.  Some friends invited us over for another debate-watching party tonight, so with no time to get things done after work I snuck out about thirty minutes early at lunchtime and got some finishing work done on the Halloween display.  I setup the sound and did final placement and tacking on cables and motion detectors and whatnot.

I’m really happy with the way things turned out.  I’m using the prop activation timer as it’s supposed to be used instead of just as an afterthought as in 2006, and the rest of the work is just icing at this point.  Halloween could be tomorrow and I’d be OK (providing I carved a pumpkin or two with Keaton before nightfall).

And, since I’ve had at least one person ask me to see a video of the whole house “walk-up” as it’ll look to trick-or-treaters, here’s something I put together quickly tonight.  The only drawback to this video is that I don’t yet have the light hooked up to the ceiling dropper – so I had Sharaun hiding out shining a flashlight on it at the right time to simulate.  Unfortunately, the flashlight just isn’t bright enough and the effect doesn’t come through very well in the video.  Owell, maybe I’ll reshoot it once I hook up the real light (which will be a bit more orange and a lot more bright than what you see here).  So, check it out, and, come get some candy… if you’re not too skeered!

[flv:https://blog.pharaohweb.com/video/hween08walk.flv 320 240]

Anyway, with that last light and a couple handmade glowing Jack-o-lanterns it’ll look a lot better… I added it to the Halloween gallery too, y’know, for posterity’s sake.  Let’s move along now.

One of my best buddies has a daughter whose spending a year studying abroad in Sweden.  Before she left, I helped her setup a blog here on the pharaohweb.com servers so she could keep the masses updated with her foreign goings-on and post pictures and do general bloggy stuff.  She’s been gone now for a few months, and I’ve enjoyed reading her blog a lot in those times – it’s kind of like I’m getting to experience the whole culturally-displaced thing through her (even though she doesn’t write nearly enough).  Her last entry, however, really made me stop and think.  I’m gonna link it now without much setup or commentary and just let you take it in for yourself.  Read it by clicking here… heavy stuff for someone I still think of as the eight year old I first met so many years ago.

For real though, I’m straight-up doing a year abroad vicariously through her… since I was too chicken to ever do anything like that when I was younger.

OK folks, it’s coming up on 10pm and I need to not be at the computer for a bit.

Goodnight.

Posted on

sometimes i suck too

Something went wrong with last night’s post scheduling, and I didn’t notice until midway through the day today that it hadn’t auto-posted at midnight as my entries usually do.  If you missed it, you can just scroll down – so don’t panic. And now, to Tuesday…

You guys know what?  I totally got the crank ghost up tonight after work.  If you would’ve asked me yesterday I would’ve said it might not happen at all this year.  See, my new rig was flawed, was tangling the strings and the thing wouldn’t work.  But then,  I got all nuts and made it work.  I also managed to set up the motion detector and prop timer for sound and animation and lighting.  I didn’t, however get it all hooked up or cable-managed.  But, good Lord I almost made my self-imposed October 15th deadline for all the old props being up and running.  Tomorrow I’ll hook things up and take a video of the coordinated triggering I setup for the popper and dropper so you can see it all in action.

Y’know… I get on to Sharaun a lot for being disorganized, unmotivated, and, at times, downright lazy.  I know, what a great husband, right? I like to think of myself as a shining example of organization and motivation, never letting myself falter.  Every once in a while though, I’ll step back and realize I’m a fairly lazy procrastinator in my own right.  Take for example the pair of tennis shoes outside our front door right now.  They’re all dusty and dirty so I stuck them out there to knock together a couple times before bringing back into the shoe rack in our closet.  Sounds prudent, right?  Yeah, all but for the part where I forgot to mention that I put those shoes out there right after removing them from my feet upon returning from our aborted JMT hike back in the first week of September.  So yeah, a month out there on the porch waiting for me to bring them in.  That’s pretty bad y’all… pretty bad.

Hey guess what?!  I actually posted some new pictures to Keaton’s gallery!  Yeah, I’m for real.  Now, even though I’m supposedly covering two months time with this update – I only managed to pull together a measly twenty decent pictures.  But, I figure it’s better than nothing.  You can go check out the new stuff by clicking right here.

Goodnight my friends.