|
Wednesday,
June 30 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“Take
a bite of a sandwich and ask another passenger: 'Wanna
see wha in muh mouf?'” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
I
didn’t think it was possible to be MORE sore than yesterday.
Obviously, I underestimated the power of lactic acid in the
muscles. I’ve been corrected. I understand now. Thank
you for setting me straight on this. Can I die now?
Today
I was the tin man without the benefit of an oil can. But I ran
at lunch to loosen things up. It worked until about mile 4 and
then I was just hot and loose.
This
morning was a bad combination of events. I woke up late and
I couldn’t get out of bed. At least not quickly. But I
couldn’t doze because I knew I had a meeting but wasn’t
sure if it was first thing in the morning. So I hovered in that
half sleep worry state which could be solved by getting up and
checking the email. But like I said, there was the small factor
of being pretty much paralyzed.
When
I creaked out of bed and stumbled to my computer, I tried to
log into to my Oulook Web Access (work email). But it kept giving
me an error.
Switching
to the trusty Blackberry, I grabbed it and saw that I had cleared
it out just the other day so I had very few emails. But I had
one from my boss that had the original meeting information down
in the email trail. So I scrolled down.
My
Blackberry is set to only download so much of a long email and
this one was cut off right where the info I needed was. No problem,
I’ll just ask for “more.”
Nothing
happened.
I
tried a few more times with no joy. So I looked into the options
and realized the wireless function had been turned off. Funny,
I didn’t do that. Oh well, I turned it back on.
But
then it said that the battery was too low to use the wireless.
OK,
I’ll plug it in and use AC power.
Oh,
but on a Blackberry, it doesn’t work that way. It charges
it but doesn't run off the power like every other freakin’
electronic gadget since the 1960’s!!!!!!!
Yeah,
I started losing it.
NO
OWA because…. It’s Quantico OWA. No resident email
on the Blackberry. No Blackberry juice to get the rest of the
email. No number to anyone I know who would know.
So
I decided to take a shower and hopefully get enough juice to
check it out before I left. Also, it occurred to me that MCRD
San Diego would be in the virtual meeting and since they are
3 hours behind us, the meeting wouldn’t take place until
after lunch. Why this didn’t occur to me before so I could
sleep soundly, I don’t know. But luckily it didn’t
or I would’ve slept until noon.
I
succeeded before I left. The meeting was at 1300.
At
lunch, I had my first experience with canned chicken pieces.
I thought I’d dump it into the salad I’ve been enjoying
all week to cover up any potential adverse taste. Well, it backfired.
The salad absorbed the nastiness rather than vice versa. I choked
it down.
Bad
news: my 4th of July trip to Georgia got canxed due to weather.
My aunt called and told me that they have been having horrible
weather and the weekend forecast was for very hideous thunderstorms.
One of the reason we were gong was so the kids could lounge
by the pool all weekend. OK, the kids never “lounge”
around any pool but in any case, my aunt pointed out we’d
be locked up in the house all weekend so we decided to postpone
our trip until later in the month.
So
I went back and ripped up my leave papers, right? Yeah, right.
I had already locked in my mind that today was my “virtual
Friday,” being the last day before vacation. And if you
think I was going to come in tomorrow since my plans changed,
well, Jason Grose you know not well.
But
there was another reason. The kids were real disappointed we
weren’t going so I knew I had to make it up to them. The
best way to do this was obvious. They have been bugging me constantly
about going to King’s Dominion Water Park and Amusement
Park. We bought season tickets and Carrie has taken the little
heathens every week since school’s been out. (Somethimes
child-Jason is jealous of his future kids. I never got season
passes to anything except.... well, anything.)
I
made the brutal mistake of promising them I’d go on any
and all rides they wanted me to. They practically exploded when
I said that and I didn’t realize what I was committing
to. What was I thinking? What did I sign myself up for?
I
will know tomorrow.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Remember
that it's better to be cheated in price than in quality." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
Tuesday,
June 29, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“Bring
a chair along.” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
DON’T
TOUCH ME!
ANYWHERE!!
That
is my standard statement today. Yes, second day in the gym
and we covered all the muscles not punished yesterday.
0630
is painful. 0530 is more painful. That’s when I was
due at the gym and when I creaked out of my bed, respectively.
Greg
was there. Greg was happy. Greg was being paid. Greg's was
in "ass" status.
Shoulders:
crushed.
Legs:
destroyed.
Will
to live: sucked out of my body one muscle cramp at a time.
We
even did the wall sit instead of lunges. (That referring to
my legs, not my stomach). Three sets of 1.5 minutes, 1 minute,
and then an eternity of 30 seconds (the last two with a basketball
between my knees. Don’t ask.) I wondered what exactly
I had said or done to Greg. Then it hit me: I was actually
paying money for this.
I
tried to get through the day with minimal human contact and
I was lucky there was no one around. Everyone was scattered
so I was left to my own suffering devices.
On
the way home, I stopped at the PX to buy new running shoes.
I got the exact same ones I actually had on and the lady looked
at me like I was nuts and then asked if I knew they cost $104.
Don’t do much running, do you lady?
I
also got some lifting gloves to protect my delicate hands.
On
the way out, I set off the alarm and I was a bit too tired
and sore to deal with this situation gracefully. I whipped
around with my eyes in the air, looking rather perturbed.
It was more embarrassing than anything but the lady was accusatory
when she asked if I had my receipt.
“No,
I grabbed these shoes and thought I’d make a dash for
it giving up 17 years of faithful duty to my country so I
could save $100 on shoes. You got me.”
That’s
what I thought. What I said was “It’s in the
bag.”
She
said it must have been the shoes and the I had to stifle the
comment “Ya think?” from coming out my
lips.
When
she took the shoes out of the box, I saw the receipt slip
underneath the box as she sat it on the counter. She didn’t
see this and I was just too disinterested to say anything,
wondering how she would react.
The
non-running lady at the other register had failed to remove
the security tab. How hard is that to remember? She had even
taken them out of the box, looked at each shoe (for what,
I don’t know since she failed to take off the security
device), and put them back in the box. You had a couple of
things to cover: scan the tags, run my credit card, remove
the security tag, put the stuff in the bag, thank me for using
the PX. Is this seriously taxing your ability? Do you not
so this for a living?
So
after accusatory lady removed the security device, she put
everything in the bag and noticed the receipt on the counter.
She put it on top but it was ink-side down. I knew she was
nonchalantly trying to get a peek at the receipt without making
it look obvious. She too failed. So she had to turn it over.
OK?
Satisfied? Convinced I’m not dumping my retirement pay
to save a few bucks?
OK,
maybe I was a bit testy.
Before
I got in Truckasaurus, I noticed there was a book sale under
a tent in the parking lot. Inevitably these are sales on the
saddest assortment of books and this didn’t disappoint.
I hardly broke stride when going up and down the aisles but
one book caught my eye. It was about Joe
Arpaio, the Arizona sheriff who makes life real tough
for the inmates.
It
was only $4 so I grabbed it. Then there was a book by Isaac
Asimov listing thousands of interesting facts. It was about
$7 and I thought it would make an interesting addition to
my blog each day so I grabbed it.
I
went up to the front where an older man was sitting like Jabba
the Hut on a small chair doing not much more than occupying
space. I asked him politely if they accepted credit cards
and his reaction was to point to a sign that said they didn’t
and he said “With these low prices, we don’t
take no plastic.”
OK,
first of all, I don’t like your tone. I expect the same
respect I pay to you when talking to me. Second, most of your
books suck and aren’t worth the supposed 90% of you
claim they’re discounted. Third, why do you have to
make a jackass statement like that if you’re going to
point at the sign. Fourth, why point at the sign since you’re
doing nothing but acting like a bloated mannequin? If you
were busy, I’d understand. You likely get that asked
all the time and it gets annoying to answer but right now,
you are not otherwise engaged so why piss off the customer
by spewing dickish statements?
OK,
again, maybe the fatigue and pain was getting to me.
But
I stood there for a couple of seconds wondering if it was
worth it to convey all those thoughts out loud.
In
the end, I turned around and put both books back where I found
them (note I could have just left them anywhere) and walked
out without a word. I only had $2 in cash but at that point,
it didn’t matter. Treat me like that and you’ll
never get a red cent out of me. Ever.
I
spent a lot of time tonight in front of the computer updating
the PC page. It was the only thing I culd do that didn't hurt.
Somehow the Wednesday
pics got out of sync (thumbnail and full size) so I had
to fix that. Then I put up Amy’s
combat pictures. Various other updates to include my first
set of comments for my pictures that week. They seem to
be popular with the students. I got a lot more to do.
I
had a shining moment when my wife brought me a book she got
through her book club. It’s called Battle Ready
by Tom Clancy and Retired Marine General Zinni. Also, she
brought in the first two cucumbers of the season from our
garden. I ate them with reckless abandon and they were good.
But I got this pic of them before I devoured them.

Note
also, there is my laptop mouse which I absolutely love and
have a spare when that one dies. Then there is my computer
speaker that plays Sarah
McLachlan, Enya, Dido, Black Eye Peas, Seal, Hootie
and the Blowfish, Sheryl Crow, and Alanis
Morrissette on a continuous rotation. Behind the
mouse are pictures from way back that I've yet to scan in.
The green and blue box are my drawing
supplies. The video on top of that is my Drill
Instructor's retirement ceremony.
Don't
ask why I went into all this. I'm tired. I'm sore.
Oh,
and DON'T TOUCH ME!!!
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Share
your knowledge. It's a way to achieve immortality." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
Monday,
June 28, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“Draw
a little square on the floor with chalk and announce
to the other passengers that this is your 'personal
space.'” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
The
diet and exercise plan begins. RELEASE THE SUFFERING!!!!
The
work out wasn’t until after work so the diet lifestyle
change came first.
I
discovered something today. Egg Beaters with a little
skim milk, salt, pepper, in a microwave for a few minutes
tastes remarkably like horse feces.
I
had to gag it down and two glasses of water later, I had forced
the bowl of dung down my throat after which I was awarded
with nausea and a big bloated gut. What a great start to a
morning.
I
went to work and at 0930 I had my first protein bar. I have
to admit, protein bars have come a long way since I first
started eating them a decade ago. Then they tasted like HARDENED
horse feces as apposed to the freshly laid puffy kind like
I had for breakfast.
Chocolate
chocolate chip. Not too bad.
Lunch
came but the salad I had was, well, a little long in the tooth.
So I ignored it and tried to eat the chicken pieces I brought.
Didn’t warm them up. Big mistake. One of many.
Then
I had egg whites which normally gives me stomach gas. But
I needed the protein (1 gram for every pound each day. The
trick is that you can only absorb 20-40 grams at a sitting
so I have to take them in 6 times a day.)
I
ran at lunch (bad idea if I could have spied into the future).
At
3:30 PM, I made my first shake. The kind I brought was a powdered
little number with 17.5 grams of protein per scoop and 2 grams
of carbs. With 2 scoops, I was dead center in my per meal
protein goal.
The
strawberry powder didn’t smell too bad but note to self:
use more and cooler water to mix it with to prevent creating
a huge, warm strawberry loogie. Just a thought.
Now
onto the workout, straight from work.
OH
MY GOD!!!!
The
first part went fine. I was going along and knocking out the
exercises with ease but I hit a wall and started getting dizzy.
By the end I was a numb, trembling mess, covering my misery
with smartass comments.
Someone
asked me during the day if my personal trainer was a good
looking woman. I said, well, that all depends. If you think
a short, stout, black man with gold earrings is your idea
of a good looking woman, then yeah, he was a hottie. They
then asked why I would pay that much money and NOT get a looker.
My logic was simple: if he starts to look attractive, I’ve
become delirious and need to stop working out. Immediately.
The
coup de gras was the final exercise: abs. When I was done,
I really thought I was going to vomit. I bid farewell to the
blurry trainer and fumbled toward Truckasaurus hoping I wouldn’t
faint, vomit, or both before I got there. I started the A/C
and laid down in the front seat for 5 minutes before I could
drive. I was dizzy on the way home and it took a ½
nap to bring me back to life. Hot meal (BBQ chicken breast
a baked potato), hot bath, computer time, strawberry loogie,
Daily Show, bed.
I
have to be back at 0630 tomorrow for lower body. Lord help
me for I know not what I do.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Become
the world's most thoughtful friend." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
Sunday,
June 27, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“Listen
to the elevator walls with a stethoscope.” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
The
hunt for Krispy Kreme on the day before the evil diet begins
started at 0900.
With
my son and dog
in tow, I decided to go hunting, not realizing where the hunt
would take me.
First
came the Food Weasel (Food Lion) but I was disked a miss.
Through habit, I went right to the part of the store where
they were located in Monterey California's Albertsons in Sand
City. Obviously this was stupid and I found myself in a deli
department. Upon further investigation, I discovered that
there were no Krispy Kremes to be found. I made my signature
response to Alex in these type of situations by quoting the
horse in Ren & Stimpy by saying “No
Sir, I didn’t like it.” Long story, inside
joke. Sorry.
Next
stop, 7-Eleven. But there was no thanking heaven there and
all I accomplished was filling up Truckasaurus.
But
I was not going to be denied. As Buster
sat confused as ever, I got the idea to go to a Wa Wa
(yes, that’s actually the name). But once again, no
joy and all I got from there is a snippet of conversation
between what appeared to be a prostitute and her pimp. I caught
her apparent unhappiness at him giving another young lady
a ride home and luckily passed before I got any of the details.
Next
stop, East Coast mini-mart. Despite the lovely smell of stale
cigarette smoke inside, they too were "Krispy Kremeless"
and the fine worker behind the counter had no clue where to
find them.
OK,
this had gone on far too long and I knew what I had to do.
I knew where I could find them but they were far away, near
where my daughter had her softball games. I know this because
it’s where I went to get her a post-season treat after
her last game. My Princess deserved nothing less than deep
fried fat bombs covered in a sugary glaze.
So
now I was about an hour into the quest and we finally hit
pay dirt. We bought 8 of the nasties and made our way home.
I was happy to have finally succeeded with a box of KKs on
the dashboard. Life was good.
For
the second time this morning, we passed a large reservoir
of water and I decided to duck in when I saw there was a public
recreation area. I knew the kids would get a kick out of visiting
a lake and even though swimming nor wading was allowed, you
could rent fishing boats and go tooling around the lake.
When
I returned and absorbed the wrath of my wife
for not telling her where I was going and not leaving a note,
I explained to her what I found. We decided to treat the kids
and take a picnic to the lake. Yes, I attained Super Dad status
today.
Carrie
went to KFC to get the chicken. The kids lounged around and
waited to be told what to do. I dinked around on the computer.
Two hours went by and Carrie was the only one who seemed to
be doing any work so she grabbed a book and started reading
it until I came out of the vortex and asked what the hold
up was.
Lasers
came out of Carrie’s eyes.
So
I barked at the kids and we all sprung into action. After
a few minutes, we were on our way to the lake.
For
a mere $12, we got a fishing boat, four cushions, four life
vests, an electric motor, and 3 hours of boating time. So
after gorging on chicken, we collected our rental stuff and
headed to the lake. Getting into the boat, I pushed away from
the shore and used the oars to get about 50 yards out before
attaching the motor to the boat.
It
seems that the $12 also got me a battery for the electric
motor which would make the motor actually turn. I failed to
realize this tidbit of knowledge and did not much appreciate
another boater pointing this out as we oared back to the shore.
Carrie
went back to get it and she told me the old man told her he
figured we’d be back for it sooner or later.
After
my bout with stupendous idiocy, we had a great time out on
the water. The kids took turns steering the boat and fighting
with each other while I tried to get comfortable on a metal
boat, trying to sneak a nap in the sun in.
Carrie
pointed out that we should have brought Buster so we once
again ran the boat into the shore, dropped off Carrie, and
tooled around the lake until she returned with Butterhead.
The
dog hates water so we knew he would not jump in. This did
not prevent him from stepping on each one of us and he constantly
inspected every inch of the boat. My crotch seemed to be a
popular stepping stone for him.
After
two hours, we had had enough and made our way back into the
shore. It was a relaxing afternoon and the kids loved it.
It wasn’t too hot, not many bugs were out, and it was
absolutely gorgeous. Who’d have known this was a mere
5 minutes away from my house?
I
was a bit testy when we were packing everything up (nap in
the sun was not all it’s cracked up to be) and the kids
were in rare form. I just needed to get home and have a few
moments to myself, a shower, and time with my computer. Sad
I know but I'm a simple man.
For
the rest of the evening, I fulfilled a promise I’ve
put off for a long time. When we moved here last September,
we stopped in Oklahoma to visit my mother and she insisted
I take her computer which she never used. It had Windows ME
on it and I feel the same about Windows ME as I do Jane
Fonda and the Dixie Chicks. I had tried to format it but
ran into some snags so I abandoned the project, leaving the
perfectly good computer to collect dust in my daughter’s
room.
She
finally called me on it and I had promised to work on it this
weekend. Enter Sunday night, of course.
First
I got everything downstairs and set it up next to my big computer
so I could multitask (AKA, reference the internet and write
blog entires while the other computer chugged away).
First
task was to take the nasty Windows ME off and I looked up
on the internet on how to do this. I found a Windows 98 boot
up disk and killed the partition. Then I made another one
and formatted the hard drive to scrape every last logical
bit of Windows ME off. If I could actually cause pain to Windows
ME, I would. Reciprocation. This went reasonably well. Scrape
it, baby!!!!
Next,
I tried to put in the Windows 2000 CD and start it up. Sorry
Charlie, no joy. It didn’t like it. I then put in the
Windows 98 floppy and it at least booted. But when I changed
the drive over to the E drive and tried to run the install,
it told me that it couldn’t run this program in DOS
mode.
Hmmmm.
Maybe
I needed Windows 2000 start up disks. You think?
The
internet told me this was the case and I used my main computer
and the Win 2K disk to create the 4 required floppies. When
I got this done, I put the first one in along with the CD
and trumpets blared. I had hit the mother load. Eat it, Windows
ME!!!
My
joy was short-lived when I was told that the second floppy
had a corrupted file. Crap. So I got another disk (they are
hard to come by in the Grose household these days, only as
relics from days gone by). But this one was bad too so I decided
to give the original 2nd disk another try (each time I tried
and failed it required me to take out the disks from one machine
to another and repeat the process. Grrrr.)
I
finally got it right and the installation completed without
a glitch (although it took a long time but it didn’t
matter to me because I was eating homemade tacos and Spanish
rice as the last meal before the diet begins tomorrow.)
OK,
I had it loaded. Now to get it onto the network.
I
took the cable and a flashlight to hook it to the back of
the computer. Ut-oh, no place to plug it in which meant no
network card. Damn!!!!
But
I knew I had hooked it up though my wireless router before
so I remembered that I could get the USB antenna from Alex’s
room and get it hooked through there. And since the computer
was downstairs, a mere two feet from the access point, I knew
I’d get a hell of a signal strength.
I
hooked it up but nothing happened. I found the install disk
for the antenna and installed the software. It seemed to take
but still no signal. I couldn’t exactly remember how
I did this last time but it seemed that it wasn’t all
that difficult.
I
tried the router install disk but that was way off base so
I fiddled and fiddled with wizards and a lot of cussing but
to no avail.
After
an hour of this, the thought hit me that maybe it was the
USB port. I had two choices when I plugged in the adapter
antenna and I chose the more complicated-looking symbol which
probably meant 2.0 (I never figured out what the symbols actually
mean but I figure the more intricate one was the more complicated
one).
I
plugged it into the other one and voila, the setup screen
popped up. We were once again cooking with oil.
The
fire went out.
I
still couldn’t pick up the network and this is where
the deep recesses of my memory prevailed. I recalled that
I had enabled WEP protection which meant that I needed the
WEP keys (basically passwords) for the network. They are too
complicated to remember and even a pain in the butt to type
out. But I got them on a Word file so I copied the file to
the last remaining floppy disk and transferred it to the new
(old) computer. I cut and pasted (after discovering that Word
2003 documents do indeed open up in Wordpad) the keys to the
new computer, hit enter, and to my utter amazement, the network
fired up like a Christmas tree. I have very little faith in
successes like these (despite a pretty good success rate overall)
so it was a pleasant surprise.
I
hit the IE icon and it wanted me to work offline. Crap!!!
I had it try again instead and once again, I was thrilled
when MSN popped up with the latest news. I had done it.
So
now I’m downloading the massive updates of the last
3 years for it (upon installation, it thinks it’s the
year 2000) and finishing up the Blog. If you’ve stayed
with me this far, I fell sorry for you but thanks.
To
put a Doogie Howser line in this as a summary, I guess that
Masters in IT pays off. I can remove Windows ME and install
Windows 2000 and then update it through a wireless network.
I’m prouder than I should be about all this.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Act
with courtesy and fairness regardless of how others treat
you. don't let them determine your response." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
Saturday,
June 26, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“Say
'I wonder what all these do' and push the red buttons.” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
My
brother made the local paper in Seattle. Here he is:

The
caption read: Christopher Grose blocks off Fourth Avenue
at Madison Street for the opening ceremony of the new Seattle
Central Library.
His
email note read:
Jason,
Got my picture taken at the new Seattle Library opening.
My boss say's it look's like a cone is going up my butt...........
We
had a strange childhood...
Today,
we had basketball games. Yes, back to the days of hauling
kids to and fro, watching young kids play basketball, and
trying not to think about things like how many ping pong balls
I can fit into my mouth.
All
I can say is “Oh, the inequity.” At this
age (10 and 12) the range of talent is so wide that it gets
downright embarrassing.
First,
it was my daughter’s game. She just turned 10 but was
9 when we signed her up. The range, believe it or not, is
7-9 years old. In other words, my daughter is a towering Amazon
on her team and to my surprise, she didn’t like this.
She felt awkward despite us pointing out it was a good chance
for her to shine on a team. Luckily, another boy showed up
that was even taller than her so she felt better.
The
game went OK even though it was strange that it was a step
back for Stephanie. Last year she had played on a full court
with regulation basket height but this league lowers the basket.
Plus they were not allowed outside the 3 point line on defense.
With her height advantage, she's a star rebounder.
We
came home but an hour later we had to return for Alex’s
game and here is where I started getting upset. The game that
was in progress when we arrived was a slaughter. It was about
50 to 3 and what was upsetting about it was that it was obvious
that the winning team was stacked. They had twice as many
players on their team and every kid was black. This was in
stark contrast with the team my son played against which every
single person was white. The law of averages just doesn’t
work this way.
It
was also obvious that since parents could request a certain
coach, the team was pre-determined and likely played together
for many years. The result is that whoever is left is put
on a team so the talent is woefully lopsided. Is the need
to win at this level that much more important than teaching
teamwork and fairness?
It
made me respect the athletic coordinator back in Monterey
who would have tryouts. With the help of the coaches, we would
rate a kid’s abilities as a 1, 2, or 3. Then we would
balance the teams with an equal number of each category in
a “draft” like setting. It evened out the talent
of the team so blow outs were only a function of the coaching
and teamwork. Even so, we never allowed embarrassing score
differences like the one I saw today.
Last
week was my son’s first game and they had only had one
practice. It was not pretty and I braced myself for yet another
dismal season of frustration. But this week, the kids seemed
to come together as a team and actually displayed talent and
teamwork. They won and I felt a lot better but will still
talk to the athletic director about the lack of talent-balancing
overall.
Tonight
we had dinner with friends we knew from Monterey. Dan, my
brilliant tech support friend and fellow Marine Captain, has
a wonderful family and he deep fried a turkey for us. If you’ve
never been luckily enough to experience this meal, you’re
missing out on a delicious feast. It also happened to be his
youngest daughter’s first birthday so we had cake to
celebrate. It was a great night and fun was had by all.
With
as busy as we are, it felt good to take the time and spend
it with friends. It’s something we don’t do nearly
as much as we should and every time we do, we wonder why we
don’t do it more often.
So
if there is a lesson here, it’s the following:
Don't
put cones up your butt,
Don't
create team dynasties before puberty,
and
most important, spend more time with friends.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Set
high goals for your employees and help them attain them." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
Friday,
June 25, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“Lean
against the button panel.” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
Another
short day at work. It was my boss’s retirement and
BBQ afterwards so the motivation to get any work done was….
hampered. But I cleared the email and voicemails in time
to climb into my Charlies and head to the chapel.
As
I’ve shared, I start my diet/exercise regiment on
Monday so you don’t have to be a psychologist to realize
I have until then to eat like a gluteus pig. Or at least
that’s the way I look at it. So I was surprised that
my uniform fit as well as it did. I lost some pounds last
week but figured I gained them back this week. I’m
sure this weekend will take care of that though. LET THE
FEASTING BEGIN!!!!
The
retirement ceremony was done in the chapel and it really
made me think about my own upcoming exit from the Corps.
The LtCol had touching words to friends and family present
and I kept my composure fine until the end when quite unexpectedly,
the bagpipes wailed the Marine Corps hymn. Never a more
mournful sound has been heard.
Carrie
and the kids came out to pick me up and we went out to Lunga
Lake for the BBQ. I had not been there since 1997 when I
was going through TBS. We had a BBQ out there and I remember
being deeply lonely without my family and knew it would
be a good place to take them out to. Seven years later I
was able to fulfill that thought.
I
love to deal with the Top. This one is such the stereotypical
Top that it’s a pleasure to be around him. If there
was a mold for a Master Sergeant of Marines, this guy made
it. Divorced but a dedicated father, his other loves include
beer and NASCAR. Fearless of rank but respectful based on
the person, he blends in with both enlisted and officer
alike. You have to be careful what you ask him but he WILL
get it done. He claims to be just a dumb grunt but he picks
up on the computer skills he’s “forced”
to learn. Always ready with a joke and a hearty laugh, he’s
as much a liberty hound as he is a get-it-done Marine. The
bottom line is if I had to go to somewhere where dust and
bullets fill the air, I’d want this Top in my hip
pocket. Better yet, I’d be in his if I wanted to come
home breathing.
When
we arrived, Top pointed me to the beer barrel. When I got
there, I noticed two 40 ounce Schlitch Malt Liquor missiles
on the top. Here is where the joking began:
“Top,
what the hell is this?”
“I
put the Gunny in charge of the beer.”
Gunny
walks over and I say,
“What
the hell is this, Gunny?”
“I
don’t drink beer, Sir.”
“Wait
a minute. Top, you put the ONE guy who doesn’t drink
in charge of the beer? And Gunny, why would your perpetuate
a stereotype like this?” (Gunny is dark green).
Gunny
laughes and points to the BBQ chicken. We all laugh and
Gunny says that’s what you get when you put him in
charge of the beer.
Just
then, Top gives me the head nod to come over to his truck.
We go over there and he drops the tailgate to reveal a brand
new cooler. He opens it and tells me if they run out of
beer, he’s got me covered. I told him he was wasting
his time and breath because if they ran out of beer, it
was a foregone conclusion who I would go to for more and
the possibility that he didn’t have more was as laughable
as it was improbable.
But
I set myself up for a fall on this. I had my family with
me so a serious beer binge was not in the cards. Plus, I
wanted to get on the road before the Friday traffic hit
so I was only into 2 beers before we had to call it a day.
When
I was saying my goodbyes, Top looked at me like I had slapped
Chesty Puller. He held up a beer and looked at me with a
combination of disgust and deep disappointment. I’ll
be hearing about this for months.
The
early exit did not work. Traffic was a mess but we left
just in time. It didn’t just start to rain, it came
down harder than I’d ever seen it in my life. Even
at the highest setting, the windshield wipers weren’t
doing the job and I worried for my wife as she negotiated
the other drivers' idiocy which, like Gremlins, becomes
worse when water is added. It let up when we got home but
it wasn't a hard call when we decided we would not leave
the confines of the house for the rest of the night.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Ask
yourself if you would feel comfortable giving your two
best friends a key to your house. If not, look for some
new best friends." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
Letterman's
Top Ten List for June 25
Thursday,
June 24, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“Say
'Ding!' at each floor.” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
I
had an appointment with a personal trainer this morning.
Early. Too early.
I
decided I had gone on long enough trying to get in the shape
I wanted by hit and miss (mostly miss). So I dropped $150
for the training and know myself well enough that it’ll
take the knowledge that I paid real money to someone to
get me into shape. If I slide, I’m throwing away money
hence I’m appealing to my cheap-ass nature to pull
me through.
The
meeting went well and we talked mostly about diet. The exercise
doesn’t start until Monday so until then: Slothdom
and a Taco Bell-O-rama.
The
diet mostly consists of obscene amounts of protein (1 gram
for every pound of body weight). So I’ll be eating
6 times a day and no junk. No coffee. No beer. No life.
The
next big event for the day was getting my little girl her
first military dependent ID card. The age requirement is
10 so this month, she crossed the threshold and has been
eagerly awaiting her rite of passage. My son did this 2
years ago and you’d think we were bestowing knighthood
on the little knucklehead. Now it was Steph’s turn.
She was to be a princess.
I
tried to be patient with the family support folks. I succeeded
more than my wife who, after 1 ½ hour wait, was less
than congenial which surprised me because she had volunteered
for Navy Relief for many years and could identify with working
on an overtaxed staff.
But
we finally got to the front of the line and my girl received
her prize. She is now a card-carrying member of the dependent
(a non-politically correct term as of late, replaced by
“family member”) club. And she didn't take a
"Bulldog"
picture this time like she did for her Disneyland ID years
ago. God forgive us but we still laugh about that one.
Next,
I thought I’d take the family out to lunch so we hit
the old Qauntico, Marine Corps standard: The Command Post.
Mistake.
It
was busy but it’s always busy. That did not account
for the hour wait we suffered before our food got to us.
It was ridiculous but the reaction of the help was worse.
Maybe
a waitress didn’t show up. Maybe a cook quit. Whatever
the reason, there was no excuse with the way the remaining
help treated us. First, almost everyone was asking where
their food was which is a legitimate concern for paying
customers, especially those that are Marines and don’t
always have understanding bosses when lunch runs long. Some
had to get it to go and a few had to abandon their order
altogether.
The
waitress, obviously frazzled, seemed to take it out on customers.
She was curt and unapologetic with her comments, that was
if you could get her attention. Appetizers at other tables
showed up with the meal. My daughter had to get up and track
down the waitress just to get a refill of water. No check
back. I had to hunt her down by following her to the kitchen
just to get my bill.
Never
an apology. Nothing.
When
I went up to pay the bill, the cashier (who owns the place)
and the frazzled waitress were bad-mouthing and complaining
about some of the customers right in front of me. Customer
is always right, huh?
I’d
like to say my avoidance forevermore of this place would
have an effect. But the Command Post is an institution at
Quantico and I think the base would shut down before the
CP doors close permanently. Too bad, they made a great sandwich.
But it was a lesson to the kids on how to respond to such
situations; don’t patronize the place is the loudest
voice. If it was a chain, I’d go up the line like
my recent encounter with
Friendly’s. But alas, we will just have to take
our business elsewhere.
Before
I went home, we hit the PX so I could buy the $100 worth
of protein and supplements I would need on the new program.
Strawberry whey shake powder, protein bars, xenodrine (ephedra,
I miss you!), ZMaX, etc. I also had to stock up on rank
insignia since I bestowed my bars on a few kids I thought
deserving last week.
When
I got home, CRASH! I got to bed late last night and up early
this morning. I guess I started the rest portion of the
exercise plan early. Yeah, I pick and chose so what of it?
The
rest of the night was spent continuing my week long quest
to get my PC page up to date and answering the hordes of
emailers. I think my butt is becoming one with my computer
chair and my posture is starting to look like a question
mark. But I know being caught up is just out of reach if
I could just….
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Even
if you're financially well-to-do, have your children
earn and pay for part of their college tuition." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
Wednesday,
June 23, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“Shadow
box.” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
So
many comments, so little time and energy.
I'm
gonna cheat today and just post some of the email traffic
I was involved in.
(This
is in regard to the picture of the Marine
shedding a tear at the Reagan funeral I posted on my
homepage.)
Hi
Jason -- Thanks for posting a picture of my nephew, Ethan
Rocke, on your web page. Our family is very proud of him.
He's a wonderful young man.
Ms.
(),
What
a wonderful surprise. You might be interested how I came
across the picture.
I
graduated high school in 1987 and in 1997 I was going
to The Basic School, learning to be an Officer of Marines.
I missed my ten year reunion but got in contact with an
old girlfriend who saw my email on the reunion list. I
had gone out with her in junior high school and had not
seen her since we graduated. Since then, we’ve kept
in contact via email.
She
sent me the picture with the following message:
--------------------------------------------------------
This
Marine was also featured in the Seattle P.I., but it was
a side shot.
I
found this one on Drudge.
The
caption in the P.I. states:
Marine
Sgt. Ethan Rocke, 26, from San Diego, cries as taps is
played during interment ceremonies for former President
Reagan at the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library.
My
thought on seeing the photo: Yup, me too Sgt. Rocke
I
know it may sound cheesey, but I found the emotion on
this soldier very moving. What a beautiful funeral out
in Cali last night. If there was a way to end this week
perfectly, that was it.
Stephanie
--------------------------------------------------------
To
this, I responded:
I
mirrored this look when I opened this file. What an incredible
image. A tough Marine, named Sgt. Rocke nonetheless, symbolizing
what the Marines thought of President Reagan.
--------------------------------------------------------
You
see, President Reagan had a deep respect for Marines and
we loved him for it. Without knowing it, your nephew symbolized
the entire Marine Corps’ feelings in one shot. He
is not your nephew in that picture; he IS the Corps and
we thank him for saying what we felt without uttering
a word.
Semper
Fi.
Jason
D. Grose
(This
was a response to one of my Presidential Classroom students
who wrote to say hello)
I
had a great time last week and have not stopped thinking
about you guys. You may think Marines are stereotypically
unfeeling and unemotional but you would be wrong. Especially
me (ask my wife). She knew I’d come home with 40
more kids tattooed on my heart and as usual, she was right.
The
pleasure was all mine. Just do me a favor and reciprocate
the effort some day by volunteering to do something, anything.
You will then see the payback if very lopsided. I owe
you guys more than I’ll ever be able to repay but
I’m stingy like that.
(This
is in response to my co-instructor who helped me edit my
after action report and pointed out that I made it sound
like I did all the work and she was not involved.)
Thank
you so much for your help on this. I incorporated your
changes and I beg to differ about your statement about
your editing abilities. I put the positives first and
will make a conclusion paragraph.
Concerning
your other statement, I’m afraid I misrepresented
my intent. I never meant to indicate I was writing a report
reflecting the views of ALL the instructors. I thought
it would be more effective to have each write their own
and let the staff see the trends from individual perspectives.
If I was the only one, then let them write me off as disgruntled.
<grin>.
The
reason there are so many “I’s” and “my
students” was because I would never assume to speak
for another person. I was writing the report from me to
them and in that sense, I used the perspective from my
inside my own skin. I’m sorry that you felt slighted
and I hope you understand that I found your help invaluable.
I could have never done it alone as well as we did together.
That’s why I was so outraged with Brian’s
situation. It was a bad day for me after I realized you
might have thought your contributions meant anything less
to me than absolutely essential.
The
other thing you might not realize is that Marines tend
to speak this way as a matter of course. It’s a
cultural thing to talk about “my bus” and
“my students” and it’s unconsciously
instilled in us from bootcamp (“If you ladies leave
my island, if you survive recruit training …”)
Even when we try to control it, the brainwashing seeps
through sometimes.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Whether
it's life or a horse that throws you, get right back
on." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
Letterman's
Top Ten List for June 23
Tuesday,
June 22, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“Play
the harmonica.” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
Today
flew by because I was still busy working on the Presidential
Classroom stuff. During the day when I had time, I started
the after action report that I’m desperate to get
done. I got some good work on it and I think it will make
quite a splash. I hope so because there are some kinks in
the hose that need to get fixed.
I
continued to get email from students from my caucus and
others which makes me happy. I’m getting a string
of absolutely hilarious emails from one of my favorite kids
and I’m glad she’s writing me. She reminds me
of why I loved last week so much.
I
spent a lot of time doing rework tonight. When I pulled
up my picture page at work, I discovered putting 130+ thumbnails
on one webpage might have been a mistake. So I busted them
up into multiple pages but this proved to be more work than
I anticipated. I’ve been doing this for years and
still I get shocked that it takes me hours to do something
that takes a few minutes in my head. I guess I’m just
advanced that way. Advanced stages of delirium, that is.
I
also got to proofread a great write up from one of the other
instructors about the other Marine from last week. He is
a civilian and was compelled to write this. Amy, if you
are reading this, don’t read this!!!
June
22, 2004
Commanding
Officer
Marine Fighter Attack Squadron 121
PO Box 452044
San Diego CA 92145-2044
Sir:
I
wanted to take a moment to commend the actions of one
of the pilots under your command. Her leadership and decisiveness
prevented a potentially dangerous situation from occurring.
Last
week I had the pleasure of working with Capt. Amy McGrath
while she volunteered her time with Presidential Classroom
(PC), a non-profit organization that brings high school
students behind the scenes of our nation's capital for
seminars and discussions featuring members of Congress,
Presidential appointees, journalists and other Washington
insiders and names in the news.
Capt.
McGrath and I were paired as instructors to lead a group
of 40 students during their week at PC. On Wednesday,
June 16, our group of students was returning in a passenger
bus to the hotel after a seminar from the Central Intelligence
Agency at Langley, Virginia. During the trip home on the
George Washington Parkway, we heard a several loud pops
and saw a spark coming from the ventilation system of
the bus. A minute or so later, smoke began to rise from
the vents on the side of the bus. There was the strong,
acrid smell of an electrical fire. At the time, I was
in the back of the bus trying to allay the fears of the
students.
Capt.
McGrath was at the front of the bus speaking to the driver.
As I learned later, the driver wanted to continue on to
the hotel and assess the situation. It was Capt. McGrath
who insisted that the bus driver stop the bus as soon
as possible and get the students off the bus to a safe
location. The bus stopped in the right lane of traffic,
as there was no shoulder on the Parkway. Capt. McGrath
then directed the students to leave the bus and move as
far away from the traffic as they could. After everyone
was safely off the bus, she spoke with the bus driver
and the police officer that arrived on scene to assess
the situation, as I contacted the PC staff to arrange
for another bus to pick up the students. Several buses
soon arrived and returned the students safely to the hotel.
Capt.
McGrath’s leadership skills allowed her to immediately
assess the situation and determine that it was no longer
safe to remain on the bus. Her ability to take command
of the situation not only with the bus driver, but also
with the students was the primary reason that no harm
came to anyone aboard. I am confident that these leadership
skills have been refined and displayed repeatedly by Capt.
McGrath over Iraq and Afghanistan in support of Operation
Iraqi Freedom and Operation Enduring Freedom.
I
consider myself fortunate to have been able to work with
such a fine Marine Corps Officer as Capt. McGrath, if
only for a week, and hope that the leadership and action
she took last week will be recognized by the U.S. Marine
Corps.
Thank
you, and my thoughts and prayers are with you and the
other fine men and women protecting this great nation.
Sincerely,
Christopher J. Coneeney
Cc:
Hon. Jack Buechner
President & CEO
Presidential Classroom
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Laugh
loudly." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
Letterman's
Top Ten List for June 22
Monday,
June 21, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“When
the elevator is silent, look around and ask 'is
that your beeper?'” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
I’m
still trying to catch up with rest. Last night I went
to bed and the wife asked if I set my alarm. My answer
was as stupid as it was doomed:
“I’ll
just wake up on my own.”
At
0830 my wife asked if I was going to get up. From there,
it was just a blur.
I
found it humorous that I would be going to work today
and everyone would treat me like I had a week off. Actually,
I was looking forward to getting back to work just to
get some rest.
The
first thing they asked me when I walked in was “Who
are you?”
“The
new guy.”
“Well
take that desk. That guy’s never here.”
When
I got home, I set right to work on answering email and
working on getting the PC
webpage up. For the rest of the night, I finished
up the pictures and answered email from students and fellow
instructors. I guess I’m just not ready to let go.
But
I’m stuck a little bit here. Those of you that know
me know what an incredible smart ass I can be but as an
instructor, I know that it wouldn’t be right to
point out all the behind-the-scenes calamities that would
be ripe for my blog. To compound the problem, I dispersed
my webpage address far and wide and there are probably
some of the kids that are reading this right now (hi,
guys, I miss you).
It’s
not that I don’t think they could handle it or that
I think they are ignorant of the snafus. I give them credit
for being more adult than a lot of adults I know. But
it’s too close to the end and professionalism dictates
I don’t reveal too much. Maybe in a few years when
they become people (inside joke they will get) I will
be able to post. But until then, I’ll just focus
on the incredible time I had by just being there with
them last week.
Some
of the things I need to get done:
-
Posting
the pics (already done)
-
Posting
the email addresses of the instructors (awaiting the
rest to give me the OK)
-
Writing
the after action report in a way that shows the good,
the bad, and in a way that I will be invited back next
year.
-
Write
comments next to the nearly 600 pictures I already posted
-
Posting
the pictures students sent me
-
Writing
the Blog entries for last week
-
Getting
pictures made and sent to the elderly Marines I met
at Arlington
I’m
sure I’ll come up with others but that’s what
I could spit out immediately. Plus I got a ton of email
I’m attacking.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Don't
minimize your child's worries and fears." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
I
was part of the Presidential
Classroom Program last week and was busier than a
one-legged man in a butt-kicking contest. Therefore, the
backlog of life along with trying to capture this incredible
week has thrown me back even farther than usual.
My
solution is to pick up with my blog right here and go
back and catch up with last week as time permits. Stop
rolling your eyes, I can do it.
Letterman's
Top Ten List for June 17
Letterman's
Top Ten List for June 16
Letterman's
Top Ten List for June 15
Letterman's
Top Ten List for June 14
Friday,
June 11, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“Start
a sing-along.” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
I
watched the funeral of President Reagan today. I thought
it was a fitting tribute to a great man and a historic
President.
I
was interested in seeing all the former Presidents in
attendance. Ford and Carter looked really old while George
Bush senior still looked Presidential and distinguished.
He and Barbara were sitting behind their son and it was
incredible to think about the status of that group. The
President and his father who was also an American President.
Then there's Barbara who is both the wife and the mother
of two Presidents. What an incredible life that must be;
almost impossible to contemplate.
Then
there was Clinton. I tried to not let my personal views
color my view of him but he really did look goofy every
time the camera hit him. They even caught him sleeping
a few times and I couldn’t help but see SNL’s
Darrell Hammond doing an imitation of his mannerisms.
I
also noted that Ford and Carter were not asked to speak.
This makes Clinton’s whining about not being asked
look pretty stupid. Yes, George Bush senior spoke but
hello, he’s the current President’s father
AND was President Reagan’s Vice President.
Margaret
Thatcher was looking very old and had to tape record her
eulogy a few months ago since she can’t really do
a lot of public speaking these days. Her tribute was touching
and I thought about the irony of the British lauding an
American President when you think about how we split off
from them 200 years ago.
The
Canadian Prime Minister: how did he get to speak? With
all the clout in the Cathedral, it seemed like an odd
choice. Mexico didn't get to speak so it wasn't a North
American thing. But I will point out that I was impressed
with the Canadian's speaking voice. It wasn't just that
he didn't end each sentence with "...aye"
or anything; his voice had a deep, resonating quality
and it was obvious the man knew how to public speak. He
was smooth and silk and his voice was very noble.
I
also thought about how lucky the casket bearers were.
They all were young enlisted who might not have even been
born when Reagan first took office. Heck, they might have
only been in the Corps a couple of years and somehow,
events led to them carrying one of the most historical
figures in American history. What an opportunity.
I
was surprised that a lot of the speakers talked about
Russia as the evil empire. A couple of them made references
to it and really bad mouthed the Russian way of doing
things and old Gorby was right there.
Along
the same lines, they kept on noting how President Reagan
turned things around and brought our country out of a
dark era, etc. Carter and Ford were right there!!! Talk
about awkward.
I
spent the rest of the day packing and getting ready for
next week. I hate packing but I’ll be in D.C. doing
the Presidential Classroom program so I thought putting
it off until the day before was long enough. I didn’t
want to be up late.
Because
I’ll be gone until next Saturday, I took my daughter
out to Poncho Villa restaurant for her birthday. It was
her choice and despite her choosing a Mexican restaurant,
when we got there, she ordered a cheeseburger and fries.
We had a great meal and talked about all the stories from
their younger years we usually cover at a meal like this.
They
had a mariachi band playing and I asked the waiter if
he could get them to come over and sing “Happy
Birthday” to my 10-year-old daughter. Not only
did he set this up, but he brought over a fried ice cream
sundae.
You
would have thought she was crowned Miss America. She was
so proud when they came over and not only did they sing
her a birthday song, they did a Spanish version and then
repeated the traditional one again. She had a look on
her face that means more to me than anything we could
have done for her. She absolutely loved the moment and
was not embarrassed at all.
I
sat there with the biggest grin on my face I’ve
had in a long time. It was a treat for me just to see
her face light up and I know she’ll remember this
for many years to come.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Sing
in a choir." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
Jay
Leno Monologue For Today
Thursday,
June 10, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“Wear
a puppet on your hand and talk to other passengers
'through' it.” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
This
morning I went to the YMCA with my wife and we decided
to get some professional help.
No,
not that kind. I simply meant that I wanted to look into
getting professional training from an expert. So after
going 40 minutes on the elliptical machine (when I felt
like doing about zero minutes), I talked to one of the
trainers.
For
a mere $150 for 5 sessions or $300 for 10, I could get
set up on a program. He would start with a full interview,
measurement, evaluation, and brain scan. OK, maybe not
the brain scan but the idea was to see where I’m
at and what my goals are, followed by a tailored program
to meet those goals.
It
sounded good, if not a little pricey, but I’m tired
of working myself to death without knowing if I'm doing
it right. I’m hit and miss with routine and diet,
getting motivated to do 2 workouts a day and then giving
up when I get exhausted. Dieting for a few days and then
falling off the plan in the form of fast food and weekend
binges.
I
know myself well enough that I have to have a solid plan.
Tell me what to do, how often, and for how long and I
can do it. They set me up with a diet plan, an exercise
plan, a rest plan, all tailored to my needs and wants.
I get advice about nutrition such as supplements and I
told them that I’m running a marathon at the end
of October so they will incorporate that training into
my plan. I told them my biggest desire of the program
was simply to lose weight. If I can do that, my other
goals (running, looking and feeling better, more energy)
will follow.
So
after next week, I’ll start two 6-week programs
to get this done and shred myself to my goal running weight:
175. Wish me luck.
Other
money-spending ventures I dealt with today was a new watch
band. The old one kind of, well, the damn thing stunk.
I mean a few too many exercise sessions made the leather
strap a bit pungent and I’d been meaning to take
care of it for weeks. For $13, I removed the stinky band
and replaced it with a leather and nylon version destined
one day to be just as smelly. Humans stink, especially
ones that move around a lot.
Another
thing I looked into was a new MP3 player. My RCA Kazoo
is getting a little long in the tooth and is showing its
age (about 3 years, I think). It takes a few iterations
of inserting new batteries before it will actually work.
The battery cover is now busted due to a little argument
I had with the battery replacement problem which also
involved the floor at work. Finally, it seems to be going
through batteries like JLO goes through white garters.
So I think it’s time to look for a replacement.
Since
I bought the Kazoo, the technology has skyrocketed and
I’ve coveted many different possibilities. I want
to stay away from the mini-disk because they are basically
hard drives which tend not to do too well while running.
So that leaves me with flash memory-based models and topping
out at about 1 GB. But that should be enough, right?
Costco
had the Kazoo replacement now called the Lyra. It comes
with a couple of features I like for $89. First, it has
164 MB of onboard memory but with the MMD card I have
already, I can boost that up to 192 MB which is 1/3 more
than I already have. For my running, that is enough for
now. At 32 kb/s sampling, I’m looking at almost
100 songs. At 4 minutes a song, this is over 6 ½
hours of music. Enough for this hombre but it will have
to wait until Father’s Day.
It
also has an FM tuner so that's something I've never had,
good for tuning in the TV sets at the Y. The arm band
is rumored to suck but I normally set it on the machine
if I'm treadmilling or I wear a butt-pack when I'm on
the road.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Redeem
gift certificates promptly." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
Letterman's
Top Ten List for today
Wednesday,
June 9, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“Ask
each passenger getting on if you can push the
button for them.” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
Today
was an 80s extravaganza. Let me explain.
It
turns out I was not needed for the Presidential Funeral
procession. No need for an officer, I guess and as things
turned out, it worked out better.
Eric,
the civilian contractor I work with, planned on taking
his family down to D.C. to watch the casket go by so being
unashamed about impinging on his plans, I asked if I could
tag along. He had no problem with that and we made plans
that I would follow him home after work, park at his house,
take the Metro to downtown, return via Metro, and I would
burn down I95 after rush hour to get home. Sounded like
a simple plan, right?
Everything
was going as planned up until mid-morning. (Note this
is before any of the parts of the plan was implemented
other than me driving to work instead of taking the train).
Then I got this email:
Jason,
I
think we've got one or more tickets to Cosby tonight
at Wolftrap. Interested? Lawn.
Chris
Thus
began the moral dilemma. Hmmm, dead president rolling
by or Cosby. This really bothered me because of the respect
I had for President Reagan but I knew I’d be way
back in the crowd for a one minute drive by. Seeing Coz
was a once in a lifetime opportunity and he’s not
getting any younger. But he was the President…
I
kind of knew which way I was going to go with this but
I asked around to see what others thought.
One
person said to go see the coffin but then followed up
with the fact that he wasn’t a Cosby fan.
Another
person pointed out there’d be other presidents dropping
off but how many times will I get a chance to see Coz
in concert? I countered with the fact that there’s
only one President Reagan and I could still see Coz in
concert as long as he was still alive.
It
just seemed wrong to even consider NOT going to see the
coffin especially in trade to seeing a comedian icon in
concert. I thought about the example I would be setting
for the high school kids next week when I do the Presidential
Classroom program and how I would feel later in life when
I remembered I passed up a chance to see history and pay
my respects to the greatest President of my time. It was
this thought that decided it for me.
When
I got back to my office after lunch, I talked to Eric
and once again, I reconsidered my plan. I discovered the
possibility to do both!!! If Coz didn’t start until
8:00, then I might have time to go to D.C. and make my
way over to the Wolftrap in time.
This
brazen plan opened up a dozen possible combinations of
driving, taking the Metro, and scrounging rides. It also
opened a Pandora’s box of advice, mostly from people
who were in the know about the commuting labyrinth that
is Northern Virginia.
“Go
to the airport, park your car, take the Metro to DC
by transferring from the orange to the blue line. Then
on the way back, take the Metro, transfer to the orange
line to go to West Church Falls where you can catch
the shuttle to the Wolftrap. Then after the concert,
take the shuttle back to West Church Falls, get on the
orange back to the airport and drive home. Easy.”
I
can get lost in a closet so this was a bit too much for
me. After a half dozen other similar possibilities, I
settled on an easy one.
I
could ride home with Eric and go with him to the Metro,
return with him after seeing the procession and then take
the Metro to the Wolftrap. After the concert, I could
get a ride from there to Quantico (on the way home for
the others going) and then drive home.
All
I had to do is get that ride from the Wolftrap. I emailed
and unfortunately, they had 5 seats in one car and 5 people
going. And just like that, the plan fell apart.
My
fallback plan was to follow Eric home, take the Metro
with him to see the procession, return to his station
via the Metro, hop in Truckasaurus, hightail it to the
Wolftrap, park, and hope to get there on time. This way
I could drive home after the concert without messing with
Metro.
It
was a good plan but wrought with possible snafus. With
the funeral procession in full swing, traffic would be
gnarled and the Metro would be a mess. My chance for success
was slim, I didn’t quite know how to get anywhere
to include the Wolftrap, and the timeline was tight. But
I was reaching for the brass ring. It was an advneture
and followed my philosophy of doing stuff for the simple
reason that they shouldn't be able to be done.
The
first setback was when Eric’s meeting lasted 15
minutes longer than expected so we were delayed leaving
the base. Not crushing but it added to the stress. I stayed
calm and didn’t get my panties in a bunch over it.
The night would be filled with possible time crunchers
so I had to stay calm.
We
got to his house, met up with his family, and headed to
the Metro. I was glad to have someone with me that knew
how to use the system because I had used it only once
when we visited here looking for a house last year.
I
bought my ticket and we all got on the yellow train to
head to D.C. It took about ½ hour and when we got
there, we made our way to Constitution
Avenue but couldn’t get all that close due to
the crowd. We
had a few windows
between people to see so we waited with everyone
else.
I’ll
admit, I can be irreverent at time. I had a small conversation
with Eric, wondering how they preserved a body. I wondered
aloud if it was cooled inside the coffin or even if they
threw in some dry ice or something. He pointed out the
embalming process ensures he won’t start decaying.
It was a morbid thought but I really had never thought
about it. Upon further contemplation, it would make sense
that the embalming process (something I knew they did)
would “dry freeze” a body and thus prevent
decay. I guess in my freethinking, I just didn’t
consider the lunacy of just throwing a dead body in a
hot casket and leaving it at that. Duh!
Along
the route they had Sailors
standing at Parade Rest. The whole road was lined with
military personnel facing inward. They all had formal
uniforms and it was stifling hot. For this reason, I was
glad that I was there in shorts and saw why it would have
been a sacrifice, albeit a small one considering who it
was for, to be out there in Dress Blues. It would have
been an honor but a hot honor. Looking back, I still wouldn’t
have hesitated stepping up for the duty if asked.
As
I stood there, I thought about what President Reagan meant
to me and why I was there. President Reagan has always
stood out in my mind as the ultimate Presidential example.
Some called him aloof but he was smart enough to delegate
instead of tearing himself apart trying to solve all the
problems himself. He truly loved America and the people
inside it but you didn't want to mess with him. The day
he took office, Iran released the hostages. Why? Because
they knew Reagan wouldn't hesitate to open a whole lotta
hurt on them. When you can win a fight without actually
fighting, well, that's the best way to go and says a lot
about the man in charge.
When
the shuttle blew up, you could see he was deeply hurt
and he represented what America was feeling. The speech
he gave after that is likely the very best written and
delivered speech I ever heard.
And
when he was shot, he walked into the hospital with just
a twitch in his shoulder, even though it missed killing
him by centimeters. Everything about him was larger than
life and I truly regret never getting to meet him. He
was on my list of who I would want to have a dinner with.
Craning
my neck, I tried to see the
procession coming. I really didn’t know what
to expect but I soon got my answer. First came the motorcycle
policemen. After them, came a parade of all the service
schools. West Point,
Naval Academy,
Air Force, and even the Coast
Guard. A few of them I didn’t even recognize.
Then came the bands including the President’s
Own (Marine Band) and finally, platoons of active
duty military from every branch marching in formation.
It was gorgeous.
Somewhere
in there was the limos
who I suspect contained Nancy Reagan. They were limos
so you couldn’t tell who was in them but it’s
not like she was expected to wave to the crowd under the
circumstances.
Finally,
I heard the hoof clops of the horses coming and I caught
the first hint
of the bright colors of the American flag in the distance.
The coffin,
draped in the flag,
was on a caisson and was pulled by horses.
The
crowd fell silent.
Hats
came off.
The
only sound was the hoof steps of the horses and cameras
clicking.
Something
unexpected happened to me at this point. Like many others,
I was holding up my camera trying to get as many shots
as I could and was torn between getting the shots and
not wanting to miss the moment. Quite suddenly, I felt
a lump jump to my throat and my eyes instantly teared
up.
I
realized I was weeping before I knew it would happen.
I respected the President and I felt honored to be there
at that moment but I never imagined I would have an emotional
response like I did.
I
knew I was seeing
a part of history but at that moment, I felt the human
aspect. This man was the most powerful man in the world
at one time but for all his accomplishments and revered
status, he was a man. A human. Someone who answers the
call of Death just like everyone must. He had one life
and now it was over. Forever.
I
realized that despite his place in history,
he would trade places with insignificant me at this point
because I was alive and he wasn’t.
The
moment passed and I was left there on the side of the
road with these thoughts.
A
part of me wanted to stand there and contemplate what
all this meant but another part of me knew I had a tight
schedule. A moment of guilt washed over me but then I
thought the President would want me to enjoy my life and
take advantage of opportunities as they presented themselves.
I know I would in his shoes, if I could be as bold as
to put myself in his shoes.
But
Eric wanted to hang around because there was supposed
to be a flyover.
I’m glad we stayed because it was spectacular.
They had about 4
sets of planes performing the missing
man formation where they have a lead plane, two planes
staggered back on one side and only one on the other.
They came swooping by as I madly tried to get some pictures
of it.
The
last set was coming in low and right as they passed over,
the lead plane pulled his throttle back and shot straight
up in the air. I didn’t expect this and instantly,
my arm shot up, pointing at it and I yelled “Look!!!”
My scream was instantly followed by the roar of his engines
as the full brunt of his engines pointed downward. The
effect was pretty cool and my it gave my outburst and
pointing a dramatic effect.
After
this was over, it was time to fight the crowd. We made
it to the tunnel entrance but the crowd was stopped by
the police right when we made our way to the entrance.
The platform was crammed and they were trying to control
the flow.
We
finally got down there and were crammed into a tight bunch.
The first train that came was already packed. Only a few
people were able to cram on and it looked like a Tokyo
subway. Eric’s daughter got on but we didn’t
and were left to wait for the next train. It was hot and
frustrating.
The
next train came and we were unlucky. Even though we were
at the front, the doors were not in front of us when the
train stopped. So we had to fight to get to a door but
were not in luck. We missed that one too. My time was
draining away. If I didn’t have a place to be, I
wouldn’t have worried but didn’t these people
know I was trying to get to Coz? I could have been needing
a heart transplant and it wouldn’t have mattered.
We
crammed onto the next train and I was mashed up to a woman,
closer than is normally socially acceptable. I assured
her I had taken two showers today (once in the morning
and once after the noon workout). We both were smashed
up next to a rather rotund gentleman (referred to from
now on as Fat Bastard) who seemed to have triple
the sweat glands of a normal person. He kept apologizing
to her because he too was forced to touch her multiple
times in multiple places normally earning one a slap in
the face.
In
this situation, it didn’t matter. There wasn’t
anything very sexual as being crammed in a subway next
to a lot of sweating people. It was socially awkward to
be touching 5 people at once and being face to face, almost
nose to nose, with a stranger but nothing sensual about
it. I passed the time by playing tag with Eric’s
young daughter. Playing tag when you can’t move
isn’t very challenging, hence the humor. My suggestion
to play hide-and-seek was another stab at ironic humor.
The girl was 15. Just kidding, she was about 6.
We
got off the train and Eric drew me a map to get to the
Wolftrap. Understand that I’m the world’s
worst navigator and it had to be at Barney-level. Even
that wasn’t a guarantee. I was exceedingly successful
of missing a turn “you can’t miss.”
But
because Eric is a master at map-drawing for idiots, I
found my way and was speeding down the beltway at ticket-incurring
speeds. I had about 15 minutes to make a ½ ride
and was doing my best to warp the fabric of space and
time. To tell the truth, I was surprised I was doing as
well as I was. I thought I’d miss half the concert
but I made it about 15 minutes late.
I
got to the parking lot, called Chris who told me he’d
meet me at the gate, caught the golf cart shuttle to the
entrance, and felt the need to explain my unlikely success
of seeing the procession and making it to the see Coz
to the other passengers. They politely smiled. I think
I scared them a bit.
I
got my ticket at Will Call and was in. I made it and had
only missed the very beginning. Impossible but I did it!!
In
the background, I heard the familiar voice of Bill
Cosby and the resulting crowd laughter. It was weird
to hear such a familiar voice live and as I made my way
to our “seats” I saw we were way back on the
sidewalk. But it didn’t matter; this was Bill Cosby
and to just hear him was enough.
The
set up was simple;
he was on stage sitting on a chair and holding a microphone.
He had two large screens behind him but at the angle we
were at, we could only see the lower half of the screens.
He was wearing sweat pants and a tee-shirt and the thought
occurred to me that if you get that famous, you don’t
have to get dressed up for anything.
I
love Bill Cosby. As a kid, I remember my father having
some of his vinyl records and my brother and I would listen
to them (along with Cheech and Chong but that’s
another story). As I listened, I started making a mental
list of what he had done. The Mod Squad, the
voices for Fat Albert & the Gang, Sesame
Street, a bunch of movies in the 70s, The Cosby
Show, Kids Say the Funniest Things. I was
astonished at how famous this man was and here I was,
able to listen to him.
Most
of his material was about parenthood and his childhood.
I think that anyone else giving the same performance would
not be well received because while it was funny, it was
Cosby-funny and not stand up comedian hilarious. He was
funny because he’s a famous funny person; an icon.
He tended to ramble on a little and get lost in a story
or get off track and never come back to the original storyline.
He also tended to misspeak just a little in his stories,
substituting words or phrases that didn’t make sense
in the place of what he meant. But we all knew what he
meant.
I
got the feeling at certain points that it was like listening
to your grandfather, except funnier. He was funny, no
doubt, but there were long periods between laughs sometimes
when he would stray a bit and it seemed he was pulling
in stuff as it came to him. It was a combination of a
long conversation and established comedy bits. I realized
why some people make fun of his style when you see people
imitating him. I could see where he could ad-lib his way
into a drawn out comedy bit and prevent anyone from stopping
him. How could you interrupt The Coz because he’s
rambling? You couldn’t.
I
was famished. I didn’t eat dinner and Chris offered
me two beers that I downed without much effort. Then I
was left in the heat with no food in my system and two
beers under my belt. I knew I’d sweat the alcohol
out before I had to drive home but I was worried about
losing too much water through sweat and the heat wasn’t
helping either. I had to get something to eat.
Concession
stands at a concert: not exactly the combination that
screams “great deals.” In other words, they
had me by the short hairs and they knew it. But I had
to eat so I ordered up a hotdog and a bag of chips. Handing
over my $5 I felt unfocused anger. Yes I’m a cheapskate
but I what angers me more is charging exorbitant amounts
not based on cost to the provider but on the situation
of the consumer. Blood sucking bastards.
I
felt better after I ate and enjoyed the rest of the concert
despite the spike in humidity as the night wore on. I
was ready to go by the time it ended and when it did,
it came without warning. Coz did what seemed to be a popular
bit where he explains a visit to the dentist. He gets
a shot of Novocain and when his mouth is numb, he very
humorously explains his slurred conversation with the
dentist. I had never heard this before and it was an incredible
talent to talk like he did. I guess it’s one of
his more famous bits and I was duly impressed. I thought
he might do some Fat Albert voices but that was just wishful
thinking from my childhood.
When
he was done, he just ended, thanked the crowd, an unceremoniously
walked off. It was a bit weird and for a second, I wondered
if he was going to do the old encore bit. But the lights
came up and I thought that it was classic Coz. Leave them
laughing and not play the game like all others.
I
smiled all the way home. Two icons of the 80s in one day.
Sometimes I have to sit back and wonder how I can continue
to be so blessed.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “When
you get really angry, stick your hands in your pockets." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
Tuesday,
June 8, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“Leave
a box between the doors.” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
Stupidity
comes in many forms. And from many sources.
Today,
I ran into a prime example and it was one coming from
yours truly.
As
I got in my truck this morning, it was foggy and I was
surprised because I hadn’t seen fog in months.
As I drove to the train station half asleep, I then
noticed the sun was being diffused through the fog and
appeared as a bright white disc. Cool! But what was
that little black spot? (Sound of The Police echoing
in the background) Was it something on my windshield?
Did I have a dead spot on my retina? Was I just seeing
spots as a residual effect of smelling marijuana at
the Hootie concert?
I
tried to get a better look at it but trees kept getting
in the way and I didn’t want to wreck. It was,
after all, foggy and I was certain there were dumber
people than me out on the road. I shouldn’t have
worried.
So
there I am, only paying a fraction of my attention to
dozens of different things when it popped in my head
that something was going on with Venus I had seen in
passing on the news. I hadn’t paid attention and
then my enormous stupidity rose like a whale out of
the deep blue ocean.
Keep
in mind I consider myself a smart man, at least on paper.
I hold an engineering bachelor’s degree and an
IT master’s degree which, to get it across to
my kids, I have to point out that I’ve completed
18th grade. But in spite of all this formal education,
here is the exact thought that swept across my mindscape:
“That
can’t be Venus because Venus doesn’t pass
between the Earth and the moon.”
Now
before you start, I knew it was the sun I was looking
at and this is what makes my next act so astonishingly
thick. I internally accepted that colossal imbecile
of a thought and instantly let it flutter out of my
mind. I never gave it another thought. Until lunch.
I
was in the gym and happened to notice the news on one
of the screens showing a close up of the sun with a
little black dot on it. The first thing that came to
mind was that it was indeed Venus and I had correctly
pieced together the bits of news concerning this celestial
event.
Then
it hit me. I suddenly became aware of the mental chain
of events of the morning.
I
don’t know what is more frightening to me. It’s
bad enough that I actually looked up and said “That
can’t be Venus because Venus doesn’t pass
between the Earth and the moon” but then
I accepted that as a plausible explanation and actually
moved on!!! Forget that I had a mental cramp concerning
the difference between the sun and the moon; a thought
that should earn me the title of moronic idiot alone.
But then lop on top of that the ACCEPTANCE of that hideously
flawed logic, without a second thought to the contrary.
Yeah, sure, that can’t be Venus. Do you know how
close Venus would have to get to be between us and the
moon?
I
swear I’m not making this up. As I analyzed the
mental script of the morning, I caught just the faintest
glimmer of another thought. For just a second, a second,
mind you, I actually had to check my mental map to make
sure Venus could indeed NOT pass between the Earth and
the moon. It obviously took just a fraction of a second
to dismiss the ridiculous thought but the fact that
I even had to check makes me shiver.
But
in my defense, I will point out that indeed, Venus does
NOT pass between the Earth and the moon. THAT is a true
statement.
But
even MSN got it right.

Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Be
as friendly to the janitor as you are to the chairman
of the board." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
Letterman's
Top Ten List for today
Monday,
June 7, 2004
|
|
For President
Ronald Wilson Reagan
1911 - 2004 |
Quote
of the Day: |
“Some
people spend an entire lifetime wondering if
they made a difference. The Marines don't have
that problem.” |
| -
PRESIDENT RONALD REAGAN, 1985
|
Today
I found out I might be involved in President Reagan’s
funeral event.
One
of the Sergeants that work near me came in while I
was on the phone and slipped me a piece of paper that
said he had been tasked to provide security for the
event. My response, written while I was still on the
phone, was “Holy shit!!!”
I
had asked him earlier in the day if he had been tapped
for it yet since his Marines always get these kind
of taskers. The last thing they did was the WWII Memorial
dedication ceremony. He might think I have some super
power now.
After
I talked to him about it, I called up the Master Gunnery
Sergeant who had tasked him with the duty and asked
her if there were any slots for Officers. She said
she had been given only three requirements for enlisted
but gave me the name of a Major in the G1 shop. I
have a bad history with dealing with Majors but this
was too important to pass up so I called him.
I
asked him if he could use me for the ceremony and
he sounded surprised. “Are you volunteering?”
he asked. I told him I was and he said they had not
received any requests for Officers but they might
and he would call me as soon as he knew. Toward the
end of the conversation, he thanked me for volunteering
and acted like I was doing him a favor.
It
was my turn to be surprised. I would have thought
people would be crawling out of the woodwork to get
into this. I consider it an indescribable honor to
participate in a presidential funeral event, not to
mention my first Commander in Chief. The respect I
hold for President Reagan runs very deep. Yes, it
would be an opportunity to take part in a historical
event but more importantly, I would be able to pay
my respects to a great American who I hold in the
highest regard.
The
other item I wanted to post today is a response to
an email I received. A father had written and told
me his son was an amateur programmer who had started
a degree in computer science. His son has aspirations
to become a Marine Officer and his father asked me
if he had any advice.
I
would say just keep working toward the computer
science degree. It sounds like he is a very talented
person and a gentleman scholar is what the Corps
wants in her Officers.
Different
people will support different foci when it comes
to what an Officer should study. The liberal arts
advocates state that their kinds of degrees work
better for theory and human interaction. I always
thought that a technical degree was better because
it teaches the person how to think and solve problems
(the staple of a Marine, or any Officer for that
matter). This is supported by the requirement of
all NROTC midshipmen to take calculus and other
science courses, even if they major in liberal arts.
I think I delved into both with a technical communication
undergraduate degree and IT masters. Both of these
combine the technical aspects with the non-technical
interaction aspects.
I
love the geek stuff but am schooled in the business
and psychology aspects of dealing with people. So
if he goes technical, I would advise to take some
business and psychology classes as electives. A
brainiac that can’t communicate will not get
very far and a communicator without technical skills
will join him at the bottom of the professional
barrel.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Eat
a piece of chocolate to cure bad breath from onions
or garlic." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
Letterman's
Top Ten List for today
Sunday,
June 6, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“Stare
at another passenger for a while, then announce
'You're one of THEM!' and move to the far
corner of the elevator.” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
I
mowed the lawn today. This brings the price per
mow down to $233.33. We’ll get down to reasonable
some day.
Other
than that, it was another weekend of good old fashioned
nothingness. I never even had to shower. OK, maybe
too much information but the whole not shaving or
showering thing is an indicator that I got to hang
around the house all weekend with no obligations.
One
thing I forgot to mention yesterday was my daughter’s
first piano recital. It was a small affair and I
did climb into decent clothes and wet down my sleep-ravaged
hair for the event. I’m not an animal after
all!!!
The
recital was a classic kids’ piano recital
affair, complete with intense interest in only your
own child’s performance. Carrie made me leave
my headphones at home.
Stephanie
was the second to go on and each kid only played
two short songs. For most of them, this was the
first time they ever performed in public and you
could have sliced the tension in the air with a
butter knife. She did just fine playing “Itsy
Bitsy Spider” (which, I learned, is actually
titled “Eency, Weency Spider”)
and another song I wasn’t familiar with. What
I mean is I don’t know the name. The tune,
I know. Practice makes perfect and our piano shares
the room with my computer so I get free concerts
almost every day, about 5 feet behind me.
All
of the kids did a pretty good job. For $18 a week
for ½ lessons, they should be playing freakin’
Mozart but that’s just my crabbiness talking.
My
little girl did just fine but we have to work on
her stage presence. I’ve seen autopsies on
the Discovery Channel done with more facial expression
than my little girl played the piano. I know she
was nervous but even after it was done, she had
the look on her face like she had just watched Schindler’s
List.
Back
to today, I spent most of it catching up on my webpage
and watching helplessly as my email inbox grew to
72 unanswered emails. Have faith, all of you that
have written. I get caught up a couple of times
each year.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Avoid
using the work 'impacted' unless you are describing
wisdom teeth." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
Saturday,
June 5, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“Walk
on with a cooler that says 'human head'
on the side.” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
I’m
a Harry Potter fan and not afraid to admit it.
Not
only am I reading the 4th book (Harry Potter
and the Goblet of Fire) but this morning I
took my family to the 10:30 AM showing of Harry
Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. Maybe the
scariest part of that sentence is that Word had
no problem with the spelling of “Azkaban.”
I
won’t spoil anything for you here (another
statement that will make some of you chuckle and
say “As if..”), but I will
say that I thoroughly enjoyed the movie. I think
the writing is classic, good storytelling and the
movies stay really close and do justice to the books.
I
noted how much older the actors are looking. Harry
is looking older but still Harry Potterish but Ron
and Malfoy look dramatically different as they plunge
headlong through puberty. And it was my wife who
turned toward me in the middle of the movie to state
“Hermione has boobies.” So
yes, beware, Hermione does indeed have boobies now.
Thank you Carrie.
Later
we watched “Interview With a Vampire”
on DVD. I recently finished listening to it on tape
and despite seeing it years ago, it was fun to watch
it for the details outlined in the book.
Unlike
the Harry Potter series, the film version of this
movie was dramatically different than the book.
I thought this was odd since Ann Rice, the author
of the book, also wrote the screenplay. I kept having
to pause the movie and explain to Carrie where the
departure from the book occurred and explain the
reasoning for some of the plot lines. I actually
got tired of the introductory phrase “In
the book…” coming out of my own
mouth.
One
thing I did enjoy is seeing is Kirsten Dunst. I
know she’s this hot young movie starlet now
but for forever and a day, no matter how sexy she
becomes, she will always be cute little Claudia
in my eyes. I guess it’s like the father of
a gorgeous woman: he just sees his little girl rather
than a sensual woman. Every time I see her on TV,
I always think of her as Claudia.
She
did such a good job in this and really seemed like
a woman in a girl’s body. It made me wonder
how they explained to such a young girl the deep
and dark concepts she was acting out.
And
she did not have any boobies yet, Carrie.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Remember
that almost everything looks better after a
good night's sleep." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
Friday,
June 4, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“Holler
'Chutes away!' whenever the elevator descends.” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
Just
another average Friday so nothing much to write
about. Went to work, worked, lost power a few times,
got stuck in traffic coming home, and relaxed for
the evening.
So
to make up for having nothing to write, here is
a great article with a good point.
Done
with school? Jenna and Barbara Bush should enlist
Guest Column
Bill
Earls - opinion@vg.pdx.edu
May 28, 2004
If
President Bush is serious about the war on terror
and respects the men and women in the military,
he could do something no president in decades
has done:
He
could suggest that his twin daughters enlist.
Why
not? For the last four years, the Bush twins Jenna
and Barbara have enjoyed the life that children
of affluence accept as their due: education at
a good college. On Monday, Barbara graduated from
Yale. Jenna graduated on Saturday from the University
of Texas. Grad school is not immediate, and certainly
they have more options than most people their
age.
The
military might be an option - and a good idea.
For
one thing, they could continue a family tradition.
Their grandfather, the first President Bush, enlisted
in the Navy after high school and flew planes
into combat in World War II. Their father also
served; if not in a combat zone, at least he flew
airplanes. Neither Bush daughter would have to
become a pilot. Instead, the military could use
the two liberal arts educations in intelligence,
administration or operations.
A
Bush enlistment would emphasize that this war
needs men and women from every stratum of society,
including the affluent.
Many
people think that the military is an option mostly
for blue-collar and lower-middle classes. They
point to large numbers of minority recruits, a
disproportionate number from poorer states and
counties. One reason for the publicity surrounding
the death of former National Football League player
Pat Tillman, killed as an Army Ranger in Afghanistan
in April, was that he gave up a lucrative career
to serve - which is very unusual in 2004.
It
wasn't always so. In World War II, affluent young
men signed up by the thousands. President Franklin
D. Roosevelt's sons enlisted, as did the sons
of senators, congressmen and ambassadors. Were
the Bush twins to enlist, it would do more for
troop morale and recruitment than all the TV "Army
of One" advertisements.
Enlisting
might permit the Bush twins some personal growth.
One problem with privilege is that people born
into it often think that the whole world operates
by the same rules as their household or school:
food will always be in the refrigerator, the car
will always start, everyone gets interesting vacations,
and most people are polite and deferential and
want to do things for you. Not a bad way to grow
up, but most of the world doesn't work that way.
And
neither does the military. If Barbara and Jenna
Bush would enlist, they would learn about a different
world, one in which reveille goes off at 4 in
the morning, and people dumber than you (or, in
some cases, smarter) demand that you do push-ups,
stand in line, shine your shoes. Someone has to
stand fire watches, dish out mashed potatoes,
clean heads, give up weekends, and there is nothing
like doing it for a few months or years to make
you appreciate what you have and the other men
and women who do it.
Affluence
breeds a form of insularity. Yale and the University
of Texas, which advertise their diversity, are
limited to people who can attend Yale and the
University of Texas. There are lots of children
of affluence in both places but not many Alabamans,
Puerto Ricans, cowboys, children of mail carriers
and cops. The military, as perhaps the most inclusive
institution in the nation, has all of those. Being
around that mix of people is, in its own way,
an education as valuable as Yale ever provided.
Finally,
if the Bush twins enlist, they will earn GI Bill
money. In two or three or four years, when they
apply to grad school, the federal government will
pay for it.
By
then, they'll be older, smarter, have a better
sense of what they want to do with their lives
- and they'll make better teachers, lawyers or
whatever because of it.
I
can imagine President Bush saying, "Sign
up."
Bill
Earls of Middletown, Conn., left Holy Cross College
after a semester to serve in the Navy from 1961
to 1965, and he later used the GI Bill to earn
bachelor's and master's degrees.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Don't
be so concerned with your rights that you forget
your manners." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
Thursday,
June 3, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“Sing
'Mary had a little lamb' while continually
pushing buttons.” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
Hootie-Day!!!
This
morning started off bad. In an effort to whip myself
into shape, I decided to do 2-a-days all week. Well,
"all week" is a matter of definition since
the week started on Tuesday so I’ve been at
this for two days before it fell apart.
Tuesday
went OK with plenty of energy. I ran 4 miles in
the morning and then the Rep Reebok workout at lunch.
Wednesday morning was rough but I got up and ran
the 4 miles but the spin work out crapped out after
½ hour and I quit, finishing up with some
ab work.
That
brings us to this morning where I made it up early
and into work for the run but at the 2 mile mark,
I lost all energy. I got out there and was sweating
too much for the work I was doing and I just felt
dizzy and completely without any energy. I had to
walk most of the way back just because every time
I ran, I almost fainted.
On
the long walk of shame, I thought about the can
of fruit cocktail in my desk drawer and it became
evident that my blood sugar was low because all
I could think about was getting to that can and
sucking it down like the nectar of life.
This
desire morphed somehow into a need to have a huge
breakfast out in town. I knew I could sneak off
and get a big old nasty breakfast in the town. This
kept me going until I got back to work.
I
tried to talk my way out of it and told myself to
eat the fruit cocktail and then I’d see where
I was at.
Luckily,
a cooler head prevailed and I didn’t go. OK,
maybe it was just being too lazy to walk over to
the town but the end result is that I didn’t
gorge myself. I knew I was going to a concert tonight
and would be eating a less-than-healthy dinner so
resisting the breakfast was a victory.
Carrie
showed up at about 5:00 PM and we followed Eric
to his house in Alexandria. It was further north
than I thought but I was amazed at the lack of traffic
going north. Rush hour flows out of the city in
the afternoon so heading south gives Eric a clean
shot every afternoon. He gets the same treatment
in the morning when he’s heading south when
everyone and their dog are going north into D.C.
Lucky bastard.
I
thought to myself that I’d be in a great mood
everyday just by virtue of seeing the gridlock across
the way as I happily zoomed down my sparsely populated
lanes. OK, that’s enough fantasy.
We
got to Eric’s house, met his family, and then
climbed into their vehicle to go to the concert,
making a close pass to the Pentagon and particularly
the side that got munched in the terrorist attacks.
I’ve still never been in there and want to
go just to say I was there. I bet they'd just love
that explanation:
"State
your business at the Pentagon, Sir."
"Just
cuz."
We
got to the Wolf Trap and it was wonderful. The venue
only holds about 7000 people so there really isn’t
a bad seat in the house. In fact, we didn’t
even have a seat; we were seated out on the lawn.
Near the stage they have seats under an overhang
but further out is the lawn which is a sloping meadow
of grass. It forms a natural bowl so you have an
unobstructed, tiered view of the stage.
We
brought blankets and food. The park is very laid
back and don’t even check your bags, probably
because they don’t care if you bring food.
That was obvious when you see that almost everyone
had a spread blanket and picnic goodies.
Our
group had three couples but the other couple had
not shown up yet. Eric and his wife brought sub
sandwich makings and we brought chips and potato
salad. I’d rather eat dirt than potato salad
so Carrie got me some good old coleslaw from KFC.
Yes, I’m spoiled, now that you mention it.
The
other couple was supposed to bring the wine and
the beer but they forgot their tickets and didn’t
get in until right before the concert so we ate
without them, bought a couple of beers, and were
satisfied with those and some sodas we brought.
Nothing was going to bring this night down!
We
couldn’t have asked for a more perfect night.
The weather has been stormy the last few days and
it seemed that the sky cleared up just for this
event. We had blue skies and mild temperatures (just
ask Alex). Even the bugs were kept at bay for some
reason we could only guess at: we were in the middle
of a sea of people so they must be attacking the
outer perimeter. Plus, blankets covered almost every
square inch of grass. Who knows, I’m just
glad that everything was working out.
I
wondered what kind of crowd would be drawn to Hootie
and the Blowfish in 2004. I got my answer when I
saw everything from a toddler to grandparents milling
around; and everything in between. This was not
going to be a rowdy crowd; no mosh pits, and I was
glad to be among “normal” people. The
running joke I kept getting from people who learned
I was going to a Hootie concert involved marijuana
and a urinalysis. But after seeing the crowd, I
thought that IF I smelled any of the weed, it was
probably for a case of glaucoma.
The
opening band was called “Cowboy Mouth.”
I tried not to think too hard about what that meant
but the unique thing about them was that the drummer
was the lead singer. He played high energy and the
songs weren’t bad. He kept trying to get the
crowd to their feet, most notably by yelling “Get
off your ass you lazy bastards” slowly.
He did this a few times but I was happy where my
ass was, as were a lot of other people. At one point
he said it as he was starting the song and when
he got minimal response, they mockingly acted like
they refused to play the song and instead played
a guitar solo of Happy Trails. I thought this mighty
ballsy since they were, you know, the warm up band.
If they walked off the stage, well, we all could
more easily talk amongst ourselves until Hootie
came out. So easy with the threats, Cowboy Mouth
drummer lead singer guy.
The
excitement was mounting as show time neared. Hootie
and the Blowfish are the only band I’ve ever
seen in concert twice. The last time was in 1995
when I was going to college in Seattle and they
only had their “Cracked Rear View”
album out. But they were at their peak and mega-popular
at the time.
Another
factoid that you should know is that the lead singer
is named Darius Rucker, not “Hootie.”
He is not “Hootie” and his band is not
“The Blowfish.” As misleading as this
is, I guess he’s a little sensitive about
this common mistake. Dude, you are the lead singer.
You have a band behind you. You call yourself "Hootie
and the Blowfish." And now you get offended
if people call you Hootie?
When
they came out, they jumped right into it by singing
“Time.” They have about 4 mega-famous
songs and the rest I know because I have both of
their most famous CDs (Cracked Rear View and
Fair Weather Johnson) on MP3 and in constant
rotation on my computer. The funny thing is that
because all their songs from these two CDs are so
familiar to me, I couldn’t quite remember
which ones were the commercially famous ones and
which were just familiar because I hear them at
least every third day of my life.
What
came next was unexpected and a theme that repeated
throughout the concert. They played a lot of country.
I know, I know, it’s weird but they did. Basically,
they played famous Hootie songs, a few new ones,
and a lot of cover songs. They have a new CD out
but it’s their “Best Of” with
only one new song so they had to fill in with a
lot of covers which was fine with me because Darius
has an incredible voice and could make “Happy
Birthday” sound great.
Of
course they got to “Let Her Cry”
and “I Only Want To Be With You”
but they were saving “Hold My Hand”
as the finale.
Meanwhile,
they played some strange covers. “Walk
this Way” (the Run DMC version) and “Keep
Your Hands To Yourself” by the Georgia
Satelites came out of nowhere but what might be
the strangest choice was a bit of Snoop Dog. Yes,
they had their mind on their money and their money
on their mind. Either that or some honky tonk songs
I was not familiar with but I think came from the
70s country and western icons.
Another
great addition was “Blackwater”
by the Doobie Brother. With its infectious chorus
(I'd like to hear some funky Dixieland, pretty
mama come and take me by the hand, by the hand,
hand, take me by the hand pretty mama, come and
dance with your daddy all night long…)
we all sang it until we nearly fainted for lack
of breath.
The
pungent odor of pot did waft through at one point.
Blaze on, old stoner dude. Rage against the machine
and de-glaucomatize those bloodshot eyes.
I’ve
been to a lot of concerts and the one thing that
bugs the crap out of me is the fake ending. I mean,
come on, do we have to play this little game? Are
established artist like Hootie and the Blowfish
still so insecure that they have to fake the end
of the concert so the fans will “demand”
a return and encore? This is so silly to me and
I find it embarrassing that we have to go through
this little stupidity when we all know they are
coming back.
They
hadn’t even played “Hold My Hand”
and everyone knew they were going to sing it. They
wouldn’t have made it out of the parking lot
if they tried to get away without singing their
most famous song.
So
they come back (ooh, big surprise) and start playing.
The lights didn’t even come up so they didn’t
even halfway sell it.
I
really enjoyed the concert and hesitate to write
anything negative about it. Yes, there was a lot
of cover songs but they were done well and were
quite enjoyable. Yes, they did the old fake ending
thing but that’s not enough to even bitch
about. So understand that I think it was a great
concert and have absolutely no regrets. But I will
point out a small flaw.
“Hold
My Hand” is a slow, soulful song about
the love of a man to a woman. It’s a touching
song and simple enough to sing along. So it was
a bit of a let down when they sped it up and played
a funkier version of it. I think I complained a
bit about this at the last concert (or somewhere
on my website) and explained that the artists must
get tired of singing the same songs in the same
ways over and over. But this was their best song
and I would have loved to hear the slow, emotional
version rather than the sped up version done in
finale fashion.
Like
I said, I know these songs by heart and can sing
along to any of them. But I know the CD version
and when the artists slide around the lyrics and
change up the beat in concert, my “singing”
is off and I found that I wasn’t matching
Darius’s tempo.
All
their other songs were done well and they stuck
to the established versions, probably more than
any other concert I’ve been to and that’s
why I have no complaints. If they altered just one
out of the many I enjoyed, I’ll call it a
success.
After
the concert ended, we herded back to Eric’s
house and climbed in the Saturn for the return trip
home. We finally got home about 12:30 AM and I went
to bed feeling better than I had in a long time.
A great night at a great concert listening and singing
along to great songs with the woman I love.
Here
is my old Hottie and the Blowfish concert reveiw
from 1995.
(I
just went back and read the old reveiw. I was amazed
that I made the exact same complaint about the same
song at the same part of the concert; the last song.
Well, I'm consistent if anything.)
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “A
loving atmosphere in your home is so important.
Do all you can to create a tranquil, harmonious
home." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
Wednesday,
June 2, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“Show
other passengers a wound and ask if it looks
infected.” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
I
got an email today that said there was an upgrade
for a free program I use to back up all my files
every night. If you recall (which you won’t
so I’ll give you a link)
I bought an external drive which came with some
lame-ass software that didn’t work so I sought
after and found a free program. I notice I never
posted what it was or where to get it so here
it is and I’ll throw it on my freebie
page.
Anyway,
I got the email and found myself in a pickle. Not
really in a salt-brine mixture full of cucumbers,
it’s a figure of speech. You see, the program
I use works. And it works just fine. So there seems
to be no need to “upgrade” under the
old “if it ain’t broke, don’t
fix it” concept. Other than questionable
proper English involving the contraction of “is”
and “not,” the saying has a point. But
it bothers me that there’s a “better”
version out there and I’m not using it. If
I download it, it might not install over the other
one thus erasing my settings. Also, it might not
work.
But
two things I know for sure though:
1.
It will cost me a lot of time and maybe (probably)
frustration
2. It will give me no improvement since it’s
transparent to me right now (I run it at night
automatically).
So
I have to ignore my desire to have the latest and
greatest and just be satisfied with the current
version. This is about as easy as hitting that first
commercial break of The Daily Show and NOT shoot
up to the kitchen to partake in a little snack-o-rama.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Put
the strap around your neck before looking through
binoculars." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
Tuesday,
June 1, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“Frown
and mutter 'gotta go, gotta go' then sigh
and say 'oops!'” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
You
might remember my letter I wrote to Friendly’s
Restaurant ountlined in my May
16th blog. Well, although I didn’t get
an email back from them, I did get this:

It
also came with a $15 gift card and at first glance,
I thought I got satisfaction. After all, I got an
apology and a free meal, right? Well, sort of. The
card pays for the meal alright but the experience
sucked and nothing will change that. So they paid
for a meal that had a bad atmosphere attached to
it. I count that as a wasted morning that was paid
for. It’s as though they’re saying “The
bad experience is on us.”
Now
I understand this is better than having the bad
experience AND having to pay for it but if the company
really wanted to make things right, they would have
reimbursed for the meal and then given me another
meal, thus saying “We’ll pay for
that bad one but come have an enjoyable meal on
us like we normally provide.”
Not
only is this NOT going to happen, I have to redeem
their apology by going back to their establishment
(although I'll obviously go to another franchise).
so I don;t even get the money back, I have to sit
through another potentially bad experience.
Oh
well, what did I expect?
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Wear
safety glasses when operating a Weed Eater or
power saw." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
|