| Week |
Mon |
Tue |
Wed |
Thur |
Fri |
Sat |
Sun |
Total |
| 7/26/2004 |
5 |
7 |
W |
5 |
W |
14 |
Rest |
31 |
| 8/2/2004 |
5 |
7 |
W |
5 |
W |
10 |
Rest |
27 |
| 8/9/2004 |
6 |
8 |
W |
6 |
W |
16 |
Rest |
36 |
| 8/16/2004 |
6 |
8 |
W |
6 |
W |
17 |
Rest |
37 |
| 8/23/2004 |
6 |
9 |
W |
6 |
W |
12 |
Rest |
33 |
| 8/30/2004 |
6 |
9 |
W |
6 |
W |
19 |
Rest |
40 |
| 9/6/2004 |
5 |
10 |
W |
5 |
W |
20 |
Rest |
40 |
| 9/13/2004 |
5 |
6 |
W |
5 |
W |
12 |
Rest |
28 |
| 9/20/2004 |
5 |
10 |
W |
5 |
W |
20 |
Rest |
40 |
| 9/27/2004 |
5 |
6 |
W |
5 |
W |
12 |
Rest |
28 |
| 10/4/2004 |
5 |
8 |
Rest |
5 |
Rest |
20 |
Rest |
38 |
| 10/11/2004 |
5 |
5 |
Rest |
5 |
Rest |
12 |
Rest |
27 |
| 10/18/2004 |
4 |
6 |
Rest |
4 |
Rest |
8 |
Rest |
22 |
| 10/25/2004 |
3 |
4 |
Rest |
Rest |
Rest |
Rest |
RACE |
33.2 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “When
someone let's you down, don't give up on them." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
BLOG
entry for this day from 1997
Sunday,
July 25, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
"In
the year of our lord thirteen fourteen, patriots of
Scotland, starving and outnumbered, charged the fields
of Bannockburn. They fought like warrior poets. They
fought like Scotsmen. And won their freedom." |
| -
Narrator from "Braveheart"
|
I
seem to have a trend developing here in Georgia. I’m
waking up earlier and earlier to run for a couple of reasons.
The heat is the most obvious factor and the earlier I can
run, the better it feels. Or more precisely, the less pain
there is involved. The other reason is because I don’t
want to squander time away from my family while on vacation.
If I can knock out the run early, then I can spend more time
with them.
So
I was up at 8:00 to run and was met with a cloudy morning
which made the direct sunlight a non-factor but I had to deal
with the mugginess. I’d have to deal with that anyway
and I knew this would be the last run here. Yes, I can and
do get sentimental about things in a matter of days.
I
spent some time today working on my aunt and uncle's laptop.
They had a dead laptop they said was not worth tinkering with
and after my aunt told me they had taken it in to someone,
I believed them and didn’t waste any time on it. I concentrated
my efforts on their other one.
When
doing pro bono computer work for family, the main thing you
want to do is not make anything worse on a computer you are
trying to fix. You always take a chance by messing with one
because if something goes wrong and it’s worse off than
when you started, you get blamed.
I
had some diagnostic software on my laptop but no way to get
it onto theirs. They had a high speed modem so I first tried
the USB plug connector it got its feed from. I unhooked it
and connected it to mine but after looking for drivers, the
“Add New Hardware” wizard gave up and
wanted a disk. They didn’t have any disks so I was stuck.
I
knew all I needed was a thumb drive but I failed to bring
mine. I found it frustrating that I had software on my laptop
and no way to get it from mine to theirs. Finally, I discovered
they had a box of CDRs hidden in box.
You
have to understand that my aunt and uncle are not very computer
savvy. The disks happened to be there because my dad gave
provided them during a visit. How this transpired I have no
idea because he’s less technologically versed than his
sister but luckily for me, they were there and I was able
to get the software transferred.
Later
I discovered that if I just simply plug in a LAN cable (that
I happened to find in the same cache as the disks), I was
up and running with my laptop. I think they had DSL though
because when I would use the Internet on one computer, it
would freeze out the other.
The
antivirus program I put on their laptop froze the system solid.
I realized they had the dreaded Windows ME operating system
and I wondered aloud why I have been cursed to deal with this
substandard version of Microsoft at its worst yet again. I
think THAT should be considered a virus. A big, nasty one.
I
had to go into Safe Mode to take it off (The antivirus software,
not Windows ME, unfortunately). I discovered this necessary
after about 10 attempts and corresponding restarts.
The
thing that worried me the most is that I had done a Windows
Update before this and I wasn’t for sure if it was the
update or the antivirus software that was killing the system.
I took off the AV as described above but when I tried to remove
the update, it took about 1 second so I knew all it really
did was to take the name of the update off of the “Add
or Remove Programs” list without really stripping
the actual update. Luckily for me, the frozen computer thawed
after the antivirus software was removed so I was basically
at square one after many hours of meddling with the laptop.
The
next thing I did was to download a bunch of spyware
detector/removal software. When I ran the first one, I
found 210 known spyware files. Yikes. I wasn't surprised after
my aunt told me she had cleicked "yes" when a popup
asked her if she wanted information about adding smiley faces
on her emails. After she did that, the whole computer started
going nuts with popups.
Lastly,
I put some links on the Internet Explorer interface and improved
the Outlook interface for them. I created a couple of folders
where they could drag emails and dump them into their own
folders. Uncle Kenny liked this, likely tired of having junk
mail and Aunt Shirley’s email interspersed with his
email.
My
aunt had complained about a quirky behavior she was very tired
of. She says that she would regularly be typing an email and
since she is a key-watcher like me, she would occasionally
look up at the screen only to find that she had somehow jumped
up a few lines and continued typing over previous lines.
I
concluded that she was probably bumping the touchpad and/or
buttons while typing. To solve this, I offered to disable
the pad in favor of a mouse. The mouse I had in mind was my
beloved laptop mouse from Microsoft that I received from my
Microsoft hookup: Paul. A couple of years ago he gave me the
little optical mouse and I loved it as much as Microsoft developers
who bought out the Microsoft employee store the day the mouse
arrived. In fact, I loved it so much that he gave me another
one (his old one when he found another one) which I kept in
my closet in waiting for the other one to give out. Even though
the little guy had been with me for years and showed no sign
of letting up, I thought it a good cause to donate to my aunt
and uncle. It had been with me through my graduate work and
on countless trips around the United States and now it would
live out its days with the Ganns.
I
disabled the touchpad and brought my aunt downstairs to show
her. I was actually asking permission to do it via instructions
from my uncle. If she wanted to use a mouse, it was OK with
him. I brought her down and soon discovered she had never
used a mouse.
This
was a strange and new experience for me. I had become so accustomed
to everyone knowing how to use a mouse that the thought of
someone not really having the hang of it was a totally foreign
concept. It was like coming across a person who didn’t
know how to use a telephone or drive a car. I absolutely didn’t
expect to be teaching my aunt how to use a mouse tonight.
We
brought up Solitaire. What most people don’t know is
that Microsoft originally developed and included Solitaire
in their basic Windows program for the sole purpose of teaching
people how to use a mouse.
But
then we had a different problem: Aunt Shirley hadn’t
played Solitaire since she was a child. So Stephanie and I
taught her how to play and then walked her though using a
mouse. It was slow going and I found it fascinating put myself
at a level where the most basic computer skills were new.
She got the hang of it pretty fast except for the double-click.
I
tried to remember back to when the mouse was new to me but
could not recall a time when it was not second nature. The
closest I could come was the remember how frustrating it was
to use my brother-in-law’s roller ball mouse. I couldn’t
quite get the hang of it and didn’t even like to check
my email at his house because I’d have to nudge the
ball with three fingers and try to click the button without
moving the ball. This was much of the same procedure my aunt
was going through and because I could empathize (and she was
Aunt Shirley, of course), I had infinite patience with her.
We
finally called it a night and my aunt assured me she would
get the hang of it. I never doubted this but she kept promising
she would work at it. For her, learning the mouse was the
lesser of two evils since she couldn’t stand having
her emails ruined by an errant bump of the touchpad.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Treat
your company's money as you would your own." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
BLOG
entry for this day from 2003
BLOG
entry for this day from 1997
Saturday,
July 24, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
"Before
we let you leave, your commander must cross that field,
present himself before this army, put his head between
his legs, and kiss his own arse."
|
| -
William Wallace from "Braveheart"
|
I
awoke a little earlier to knock out the run but at 0900, the
Georgia sun still makes you pay for moving at all outside.
The route had become old hat and I could concentrate on the
running and not the path. The dirt road was hilly but I knew
where the end was and I was able to handle the hills better.
That’s the 90% mental part of running. I was 90% mental
by the time I was done.
It
was a good thing that I ran because I was about to go in the
hole again with my exercise-to-food ratio. Aunt Shirley and
Uncle Kenny wanted to treat us to the Waffle House. Once there,
all bets were off. Bring on the artery-cloggers and don’t
be shy with the portions!!!
We
couldn’t sit together since 6 was too many in a party
for the old Waffle House. So the men sat at the counter and
the women in a booth. The men waited in silence for their
food and the women cackled like hens. The men ate in utter
silence while the women alternated between conversation and
food intake. Both sets thought it was a great time. Such is
the world of men and the alien world of women.
I
almost got to pay for the men-meals. The waitress set the
check down as Uncle Kenny was not looking and I snagged it
to put in my pocket. After I was done, I got up to go to the
empty register but I was too late. Two other customers had
a similar idea and it would have been too obvious for me to
be standing there for too long. In the world of Uncle Kenny,
you must accomplish stealth bill-paying quickly and suffer
the consequences afterwards.
I
started walking back to the seat to wait for another opportunity
when I passed the girls’ table. The thought occurred
to me and I impulsively handed the check to Carrie, hoping
she would understand and pay the bill. She looked at me funny,
took the bill, and proceeded to set it on the table. It MAY
have hit the actual table but I doubt it. Like a snake striking,
Aunt Shirley snagged the slip of paper and in an identical
lightning movement, she handed it to Uncle Kenny who somehow
met her handoff half way. Before I even recoiled my hand,
Uncle Kenny had the bill and was reaching for his money clip.
After that, I knew it was no use. I would sooner get back
my virginity before I got that check back and we all knew
it. Carrie blew it but of course she blamed me for a much-too-obvious
handoff. Again, such is the alien world of women.
After
consuming enough breakfast to choke a whale, I lumbered off
my bar stool and got into Uncle Kenny’s 2002 Jag. I
tried to explain to Alex what it meant to drive in such a
luxurious automobile but I think it was lost on him. How do
you explain the concept of high-end luxury sedans to a 12-year-old?
The
men were off to hunt. The women were off to gather. We were
going to Wal-Mart to get a list of food supplies and a gift
for the Boy. The women were off to the mall to see what they
could find and to take care of Steph.
We
were done in as long as it took Uncle Kenny to wheel down
the appropriate aisles and Alex to decide on a video game.
The girls were dancing around the mall with flowers in their
hair singing of sunshine and unicorns. At least that’s
my vision of it.
We
got back to the house and were utterly shocked we had beat
the women back. Actually, we knew we had many hours to ourselves
and enjoyed the pool and silence for the hours it took the
girls to finish their dancing/flower-wearing/unicorn-sunshine
singing.
I
had been lucky. The previous day’s thoughtlessness in
the sun hovered on the edge of a blade. I knew it was going
to be close and either I’d be Joe Lobster Chest or if
I could teeter the scale a micron to my side, the burn would
turn the corner to a tan. It was a photo finish but I succeeded.
So
I drove home the tan by spending
the rest of the day at the pool with the kids. I didn’t
tempt my luck by forgetting to lather up with the sunscreen
and kept a close eye on my bronze-bound chest.
After
risking my life several times coming down the slide on variety
of surfaces that included inner-tubes, air-mattresses, my
back, my chest, and other parts of my anatomy that caused
Dad to take a break with a couple of golden Corona complete
with lime, I was rewarded with some of the best steaks the
human race has ever concocted. Whatever cow gave her life
for this piece of perfection did not die in vain. She can
hold her cow-head high up in cow-heaven.
Another
day at Gann-Nirvana.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Hold
a child's hand when crossing the street." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
BLOG
entry for this day from 2003
BLOG
entry for this day from 1997
Friday,
July 23, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
"Who
is this person that speaks to me as though I needed
his advice?"
|
| -
Longshanks from "Braveheart"
|
Even
in paradise, there are dues to pay.
I
woke up and knew I had to run. It was penance for my discipline
failure yesterday so after sleeping
in until 10:00, I decided I better put some shoe on pavement.
There was the little details of hot Georgia weather, having
no clue exactly where to go, and hilly surroundings to contend
with but I wasn’t wimping out. I already destroyed my
diet so I had to make some progress even if it was just to
keep an even keel.
I
found a road leading past a soccer filed and followed it onto
a dirt road. My intention was finding a 20 minute stretch
of road where I could turn around and complete a 40 minute
run. I got lucky because the road led into a shaded forest
with houses set back from the dirt road and what appeared
to be a horsing community. It was a hot morning but I found
a running path and was happy to be doing something constructive
(or destructive if I go by the way I felt).
When
I got back, I was soaked. Even though it was a short run for
me, the mugginess took its toll and I walked into the house
looking like I had just jumped in and then out of the coveted
swimming pool.
After
cooling off, the real business of the day was at hand: relaxing
by the pool. I know, but someone must lead this life.
You
would think that after my burn-a-thon
a couple a weeks ago, I would have learned my lesson. But
you assume I’m, you know, smart. For the last couple
of days, I have continued to peel on my chest and stomach.
This gave the ever-so-attractive look of white flesh hanging
off my body. When I would rub it to get it off, it just made
smaller flakes all over or rolled up into small snakes of
skin. To top it off, it was only my chest and stomach since
my arms and shoulders had been conditioned through running
in tank tops before the burning session
at the lake.
So
I applied sun block 500 for albino vampires before I even
went to the pool. The rest of the day was alternating between
sitting in a beach chair until I was covered in droplets of
sweat (sexy, I know) and jumping
in the cool, clear pool water for a refreshing respite
before starting the process all over again. Don't worry, the
Coronas and lime took away the stress involved.
I
was having so much fun
that I wasn’t paying attention and before I knew it,
it was the end of the day and I had not reapplied the sun
block. So the sun saw this and decided I needed to pay for
such a foolish oversight. Extra UV rays for Jason, coming
right up.
I
really thought that I had already paid my dues to the sun
god and my chest would withstand a single coating at the beginning
of the day. My wife’s eyes told me different at the
end of the day when she informed me I was red as a fire engine
again.
“What,
this? Naw, it’s fine” as I touched my chest
which felt like my finger was an acid-dripping rusty knife.
Great, I had done it again. I am not a smart man.
During
the day, my cousins came over; Mike and Angie. Mike is a few
years older than I am and played at Notre Dame and then a
decade with the Atlanta Falcons. Even though he’s been
away from football for a few years and lost what he claims
to be some of his football size, he’s still a man of
gigantic proportions. Just the thought of him tackling me
makes my bones ache. Add pads to that and a dozen of his buddies
and I start to whimper. When he went flying into the pool
with arms outstretched as my son was just coming up for air,
I was amused to see Alex’s eyes the size of dinner plates.
Now imagine he actually landed on you with nothing under you
but Astroturf and you get an idea of what level professional
football exists.
His
sister, Angie, came over with her three sons. These kids have
no chance but to be gargantuan human beings. They have the
Gann blood which is proven to be potent enough to create giants
even though my aunt is about 5’4”. But add into
the mix the Hardee blood (Dad is 6’4” and large
proportioned) and you have three little boys that will someday
tower over everyone they meet.
Aunt
Shirley and Uncle Kenny treated us to a Mexican dinner at
a local restaurant. I was carb starved and the meal was gluttony
in its rawest form. I double-fisted the chips until they were
gone, only to be replaced by another basket. By the time my
food got there, I was feeling the rush of carbs and the effects
of the margaritas. I ate in pure bliss with my family and
my favorite aunt and uncle. Life was just beyond description
and I realized that I had not been quite that happy in the
moment for quite some time.
You
can likely finish this story without even reading on. Let
me recap: spent all day
at the pool after running in the heat. Drank many Corona
during the day and got fried at the pool. Ate a criminal amount
of Mexican food and help down a pitcher of margaritas. By
the time I got back to the house, I had a better chance at
birthing a baby than I had at staying awake for very long.
For
the second time in as many nights, I hit a large, relaxing
bed with my lovely wife in total comfort. I was afraid my
heart would just go to sleep out of pure relaxation. Just
as it happened when I was a kid, I slept in total peace in
a house of pure family love.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “When
you lose, don't lose the lesson." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
BLOG
entry for this day from 2003
BLOG
entry for this day from 1997
Thursday,
July 22, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
"One
day you will be a king. At least try to act like one."
|
| -
Longshanks: [to Prince Edward] from "Braveheart"
|
I
got out of the house pretty cleanly. Carrie “said”
7:30 so that we’d get on the road by 8:00 but I thought
this was silly since we all knew we would be shooting for
8:00. So that’s what I kept in MY head as a goal.
We
left at 8:15.
We
split the driving up so it didn’t seem so bad. With
my headphones, MP3 player, magazines, and book I’m editing,
the day went by quickly and we actually arrived 2 hours sooner
than we had last Thanksgiving. For lunch we had stopped by
Wendy’s and I decided my diet was a lost cause
for this vacation. If I could keep up my running, I could
minimize the damage. And damage there would be, starting with
two Wendy’s burgers, fries, and Coke. My body
welcomed the nastiness like a long lost friend but afterward,
the grease and fat took its toll and I thought it unfair that
I reward my body with what it wanted only to have it make
me feel like crapola.
Arriving
at my aunt and uncle’s house is always a joyous event.
Aunt Shirley was there and she was just as excited as she
could be to have us here for the weekend and she poured all
her affection over the kids. The kids, naturally soaked it
up like a sponge. This woman was made to please kids and she’d
showed no sign that she slowed down over the years since I
was a child.
The
big event was getting into the pool. Ever since Thanksgiving
when we were here and the kids saw the pool, they had fantasized
about jumping in it. Steph told me on the way that she had
3 things she was looking forward to on the trip.
1.
Spending time with family
2. Swimming in the pool
3. Playing pool (billiards)
Alex
had a similar list but included bacon. Aunt Shirley had introduced
us to the amazing contraption that you hang bacon off of and
microwave it, producing the crispiest bacon imaginable. If
you’ve ever had microwave bacon before, you know it
can be pretty nasty but this little gizmo actually makes it
crispy and the kids loved it.
Of
course Aunt Shirley had to make a ton of it when we were here
last November and then buy us one as a gift soon after. So
when we were coming back, bacon scored high on Alex’s
wish list and it follows that Aunt Shirley was ready to make
pounds on top of pounds of bacon this trip.
Later,
Steph amended her list to include riding the small tractor
my Uncle Kenny uses to mow the backyard. This, of course,
was totally doable according to Uncle Kenny. I think the kids
found out what I knew since the 70s: Uncle Kenny’s physical
size hides a heart just as big for those that earn his affection.
I think the kids got to him in spades.
The
pool was a gift from the heavens. The hot Georgia afternoon
combined with the long car ride made the pool more inviting
than I can describe. So it wasn’t long before we were
out there and the kids were splashing around.
They
had bought this house with the pool already there and it’s
a 9 feet deep, oddly shaped pool with a hot tub. But the big
draw is the slide. The owner before was a builder and got
all the supplies at cost. The slide would have cost many of
thousands of dollars but he got a tremendous discount and
Uncle Kenny says there aren’t many like it because they
are expensive. Whatever the background, it’s a bunch
of fun and the kids took full advantage and acted like they
were at their very own water park.
We
were not the only guests. Two of the grandchildren were here
in the form of a 14-year-old daughter of Mark, their eldest
son, and a 15-year-old daughter of Mike, their youngest son.
The girls were staying with “Mi-Mi” and
“Poppy” for a few days. They were your
stereotypical teenage girls on summer break: they slept in
and spent a lot of time swimming in the pool.
Having
Gann blood meant they were destined for height. Mike’s
daughter, Mindy is a statuesque blond who seems destined for
modeling while her younger cousin, Taylor, is the brunette
version of tall teenage beauty.
They
were unaware of exactly how I fit into the family tree so
I had to explain it to them and they were shocked that “Frankie”
was my dad or that he even had any kids. It was a bit comical
to watch realization spread over their face when I described
my place in the family.
After
a big day on the road, reuniting with the Ganns, and swimming
in the pool, dinner was the final touch to send us into official
exhaustion mode. The kids got two single beds in their own
room and we got a room of our own with a king size bed and
a bathroom. It was like staying at a luxury suite and without
Buster, we will sleep on acreage tonight.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “If
it's not a beautiful morning, let your cheerfulness
make it one." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
BLOG
entry for this day from 2003
Wednesday,
July 21, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
William
Wallace: "Why do you help me?"
Princess Isabelle: "Because of the way you are
looking at me now."
|
| -
Scene from "Braveheart"
|
I
got a package in the mail yesterday from an author writing
a book about a Marine. I’ve been in contact with him
for some time now and gave him some background information
about boot camp and other things Marine. He is a retired Air
Force officer and I found it flattering that he would feel
so strongly about the near-spiritual feelings Marines have
about the Corps and the public has about the Marines. He writes
about it so well that I find it ironic that it takes an Air
Force officer to adequately convey the essence of the Marine
Corps. But he nails it.
He
sent me the manuscript of a book he is writing and wanted
me to check a couple of the chapters for “Marine Trueness.”
Here are the edits I sent back to him for chapter 1 and chapter
4.
Ch
1
OK, here is what I found last night.
I
will note the paragraph number starting with the first full
paragraph when referring to them on a page.
Page
3, para. 1: “…they were supposed to be guarding
their fellow troops…”
“Troops”
is an Army term. We don’t use it. We say “Marines”
and it’s an important distinction.
Page
5, para. 2: “…in just two weeks inside the
intentional zone of Iraq.”
I
don’t understand what you mean by “the intentional
zone of Iraq.”
Page
5, para. 3: you should capitalize “Logistics Vehicle
System” especially since you are providing the
acronym.
Page
6, para. 1: “…he was a part of helped relieve
the 1st Marine Division, 5th Marine Regiment…”
When
listing units out, you start low and work up. So if you
are talking about “1/5” it would be the 1st
battalion, 5th Marine Regiment. If you meant it as you wrote,
it should be the 5th Marine Regiment, 1st Marine Division
or 5th Marines, 1st Marine Division.
Page
7, para. 4: “…using weapons a soldier grasped,
loaded, and fired.”
You
must be very careful when using the term “Soldier”
because it’s strictly used for Army. It’s insulting
to refer to Marines as soldiers in any context. Reading
this paragraph I understand that you were probably trying
to convey the concept of fighting men in general but you
are talking specifically about Sean in this paragraph so
you should replace it with “Marine.”
I can’t stress enough how sensitive Marines are to
this terminology.
Ch
4
Page
60, para. 3: “…and historic mansions ---
in a word, all of the creature comforts one of the country’s
premier resort spots can offer.”
I’m
not quite sure what THE “word” was.
Did you mean “creature comforts?” If
so, that’s not “in a word.”
Page
63, para. 1: “The battalion was part of a division.”
You
skipped a level. A battalion is part of a regiment. A regiment
is part of a division.
Also,
you go onto say that “so many divisions make up
the mother of all fighting forces…” I don’t
know if you want to clarify it but there are only 4 divisions
in the entire Marine Corps (3 active and one reserve). But
this could get tricky and interrupt your flow because there
are also the same number of wings which are the air equivalent
to a division. So, there are 3 active divisions, 1 reserve
division, 3 active wings, and 1 reserve wing. And this doesn’t
get into the support structures (CSS or Combat Service Support).
Page
65, para. 2: “Sean’s recruit class had...”
Sean
is part of a platoon. As a whole, they are always called
“platoon.” Never, and I mean NEVER,
are they referred to as a “class.”
These are the little details that Marines WILL pick out
and you will lose credibility at the first slip.
Page
65, para. 2: “…had a staff sergeant and
two sergeants.”
These
are proper nouns as ranks. They should be capitalized. We
(Marines) get capitalization-happy because we are so respect-oriented
and it comes out in our writing style. Even if an editor
would argue this, I would say you will gain much respect
from Marines by showing it in the form of capitalizing Marine
rank titles.
Page
65, para. 2: “It is the ranking DI, called the
senior drill instructor...”
Same
argument with capitalizing Senior Drill Instructor. I would
argue it was a proper title and you list it as an acronym
but above all, you would have Marines baring teeth if you
failed to capitalize it. Remember, to a Marine, not capitalizing
it is like not capitalizing “God.”
Page
65, para. 4: “Incentive PT in Sean’s class...”
Change
“class” to “platoon.”
Page
66, para. 0: “One of the most dreaded exercise
is the bends.” And later “… to
the right path with bends, he is said…”
You
MUST change this to “bends and thrust.”
That is the name of it that every Marine for the last 50
years will recognize. Just saying “bends”
makes you sound like someone on the outside looking in.
Believe me, Marines will pick this out.
You
also might want to point out that it is a 4-count exercise.
This is terminology Marines will recognize and it points
out that there are 4 distinct steps (bend down, thrust feet
back, pull feet forward, standup). Also, the whole process
is considered 1 repetition. Lastly, the DI can control the
pace by counting for the recruit faster and faster.
Page
66, para. 1: You talk about the surround sound yelling.
You never use the term every Marine will look for in this
paragraph. The term is “stereo.” When
the DIs come at you and yell on each side, it’s called
“DI stereo.”
Page
66, para. 3: Capitalize Senior Drill Instructor.
Page
67, para. 0: “’Sir, this recruit wasn’t
aware that he did, sir.’”
Three
things: a recruit would replace “he”
with “this recruit.” As silly as it
sounds, it would be yelled ’Sir, this recruit
wasn’t aware that this recruit did, sir.’
Next,
you should capitalize the last “Sir”
since it’s a direct proper noun.
Lastly,
think about providing an exclamation point since he would
be yelling it. While you’re at it, I would think about
capitalizing everything a DI says and ending it with an
exclamation point since everything they say, they yell.
Page
68, para. 0: “They closed ranks for one of their
own, for a Marine brother.”
You
can’t refer to him as a Marine yet. Not only would
this rankle Marine readers but the recruits don’t
think of themselves as Marines inside their heads. The thought
would be “They closed ranks for one of their own,
for a recruit brother.” As a recruit, it denotes
the same respect and closeness to each other.
Page
68, para. 3: “... being sent to the physical condition
platoon.”
It
should be “Physical Conditioning Platoon”
and should be capitalized (proper noun/title). Here is another
place where you don’t mention something that EVERY
Marine will be waiting to read. Somewhere, you have to refer
to it as the “Pork Chop Platoon.” Every
Marine will look for this and it just begs to be pointed
out. It will also establish you as “in the know”
just as leaving it out will put you on the outside.
Page
70, para. 0: “... required to memorize the United
States Marine Corps rifle creed.”
It’s
officially called the Rifleman’s Creed and
should be capitalized (literary work).
Page
70, para. 3: this paragraph talks about the scoring. It’s
a points system so it’s not “250 shots on
target.” A bullseye is 5 points so for a perfect
score of 250, you need to hit 50 bullseyes. You only shoot
50 rounds. There is a 5-ring, a 4-ring, a 3-ring, and if
you hit anywhere on the paper outside the rings, it’s
2 points.
Page
70, para. 4: “Targets were located 200, 300,and
500 meters away.”
It
should be yards.
Page
71, para. 2: “The station called slide for life…”
Slide
For Life should be capitalized. Proper name.
Also,
capitalize all of the stations you list at the bottom of
this paragraph (Alligator Bay, Dirty Name…)
Page
71, para. 3: “… recruits run a six-mile
conditioning march.”
Is
it a run or a march? I think you meant march so it should
read “… recruits hump a six-mile conditioning
march.”
Page
72, para. 0: Capitalize “Team Week” in all three
occurrences.
Page
73, para. 0: Capitalize “Meal, Ready to Eat”
especially since you use the acronym.
Page
73, para. 3: “This man had been a major pain in
the butt…”
Change
“man” to “recruit.”
Recruits aren’t men, they are recruits.
Page
74, para. 0: “…the entire team by one whimpering
man,…”
Change
“man” to “recruit.”
Recruits aren’t men, they are recruits.
Page
74, para. 2: Capitalize “First Sergeant”
Page
75, para. 1: Warriors’ Breakfast should have
an apostrophe at the end (plural possessive)
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Remember
that how you say something is as important as what you
say." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
BLOG
entry for this day from 2003
Tuesday,
July 20, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
"It's
fine Scottish weather we're having. The rain is falling
straight down and kind of to the side like."
|
| -
William Wallace in "Braveheart"
|
Today
is day 2 of doubling up on my workouts. I’m going to
Georgia on Thursday so I have to get my workouts done early
in the week. So yesterday and today I ran at lunch (bring
on the sweat) and worked out at night at the YMCA.
I
was feeling bad about abandoning my family at night so I had
an idea that actually worked out. I took my son with me to
the gym and we both worked out together. It was great.
Alex
is 12 and he thought it was the greatest thing to go to the
gym and work out with Dad. For me, it was a chance to spend
a little time with him and encourage him to get involved in
physical fitness. It also provided a good pace for my workouts
since I am supposed to rest between sets anyway. The unintended
benefit for me was that I had to really concentrate on form
because I was showing him how to properly do the exercises.
To
him, I’m like the strongest man in the world. We would
do the same exercises and he would obviously do a lot less
weight than I was pushing. From his perspective, I was lifting
an astronomically larger amount of weight than he was but
I tried to show him why that was. I didn’t want to crush
his forming ego and really made a big deal of the successes
he had.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Stop
and watch a farmer plowing a field." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
BLOG
entry for this day from 2003
Monday,
July 19, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
"I
came home to raise crops, and God willing, a family.
If I can live in peace, I will."
|
| -
William Wallace in "Braveheart"
|
Last
week I watched “I Love the 90s” and while
I thought it was a good series, I’m easy when it comes
to nostalgia. I had no complaints (other than the annoying
dancing baby and not enough of Hal Sparks) until I read some
of the message boards. Seems people were pretty put out that
Friends was not mentioned along with a lot of other
shows.
But
what bugged me the most were the commercials. For two hours,
5 nights in a row I was subjected to the same commercials
over and over. Here are some of my random thoughts about it.
It
will be a long time before I eat at the Olive Garden.
The guy discovering his new “usual” irked me so
bad I had to inject my own dialogue. When they tease him about
what he’s going to order, I would scream “SHUT
UP, YOU DUMB JACKASS!!!” and pretend to backhand
the lady who made the snide comment. My term for the visual
of her flying back due to the force of the blow was “six
legs in the air.” For the rest of the week, all
I had to say was “Six legs in the air”
to get my wife to roll her eyes.
I
will never, and I mean NEVER dial down the center, 1-800-CALL-ATT
for any reason. Carrot Top should be shot in the head, multiple
times. He had a duo of offerings that made bile rise in my
throat. First it was the Wild Wild West theme where he tries
to pick up a saloon girl. Then there was the “Carrot
Top as a masseuse” theme. I had really horrible, violent,
bloody musings while watching these commercials.
Two
sisters, one gets skin cancer. Yes, serious subject but through
sheer repetition, I really didn’t give a rat’s
ass. I lost all humanity over this commercial and just the
fact that a major skin care company pretends to really care
about skin cancer really smacked of self-serving scare tactics.
Veet:
I hate it. I hate the commercial. I hated seeing the commercial
over and over and over and over…. Leg-shaving products
are never a favorite of any man but this one had some leggy
waif jumping around and a guy playfully grabbing at her. OK,
I can see reality in this up to this point but then they show
him blindfolding her and shaving her legs while she giggles
incessantly. Wait a minute. This has never happened in the
history of the Universe. Who writes these stupid commercials?
Answer: women.
But
there was good ones that didn’t make me want to tear
the skin off of my face. The MSN commercials were great. One
of them involved the concept of a little girl telling her
parents that a schoolmate claimed he dug a hole to China.
The MSN Butterfly Guy then takes her around and they research
the claim, ending with her taking him to task for the claim.
What
endeared me to this commercial was the cute little girl. She
was so adorable (and not that fake, trying too hard to be
adorable adorable) and had the funniest one liners delivered
as matter-of-factly statements:
“He
couldn’t dig through all of that magma.”
But
for some reason, the thing I looked forward to the most in
the commercial was the little picture in the corner when she
was online talking to presumably a Chinese official to see
if he had seen any new holes in China. The picture was just
her little head which I assume identified her in this video
chat. It just looked so funny. OK, you had to be there but
it was a crack up if only to me.
The
other MSN commercial was my wife’s favorite. It starts
with a man and a woman arguing and trading “You’re
wrong” yells with each other. Here’s how
it went:
Man:
“You’re wrong.”
Woman: “No, you’re wrong”
Man: “You’re wrong.”
Woman: “No, you’re wrong” (she
storms out)
MSN Butterfly Guy playing darts in the background: “You
know you’re wrong, right?”
Man: “Yeah.”
He
then spends the rest of the commercial trying to make it up
to her and finally has to go to the ballet with her to make
things right. Carrie likes it because the first exchange represents
about half (if not more) of our arguments.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “When
giving a speech, concentrate on what you can give the
audience, not what you can get from them." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
BLOG
entry for this day from 2003
Sunday,
July 18, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
"The
king will be dead in a month and his son is a weakling.
Who do you think is going to rule this kingdom?"
|
| -
Princess Isabelle in "Braveheart"
|
Today
I had to put on my “Mr. Computer Guy Fix It”
hat.
I
had two goals in mind that involved both of the kids’
computers.
For
Steph’s, I had ordered a new video card because the
sole reason for the computer’s existence is to play
the coveted Toontown which takes an annoyingly complicated
and precise set up to work. Neither one of my kids computers
will play it and it’s been a point of contention for
some time now.
I
thought that it was down to the video card for the girl’s
computer so I popped the $50 card I ordered online into the
little micro-miniature “made by dwarfed elves”
computer case and turned it on.
No
joy.
It
still was trying to access the old onboard video so I had
to take that off (drivers). Once I did, I had to reinstall
the drivers for the new card. But this didn’t work either
so I updated the DirectX. Why? I don’t know. It's all
part of my random troubleshooting scheme. I figure it randomly
screws up for no apparent reason so that's the way I should
fix it.
Then
I went online and downloaded the latest drivers for the new
card. For some reason this also brought back the driver for
the onboard video. Why? Again, I don’t know.
So
I removed them again and then when I thought I got the video
card working, I tried Toontown but I could hear but
not see it. Why? You know the answer.
At
the same time, I had my son’s computer down by my main
one because last night he started to get a simple “Out
of range” error on his screen. Whenever he would
start it, it would look like it was going to boot up and then
I got the error. That was it; no explanation, no possible
way of troubleshooting.
I
started it up in Safe Mode (a move that’s about as quick
as a drawing of a glacier moving) and it worked fine.
I
really did not want to mess with it so I decided it was high
time I just scrape the damn thing and reload Windows. A hard
drive needs a good scraping every once in awhile if only to
have the satisfaction of scraping everything off it. More
pragmatically, to get rid of extraneous crap that builds up
on it. Plus, I had just done it to the girl's computer so
I felt fairly confident I could do it with little hassle by
chipping away at it all day.
So
I dragged it downstairs so I could be next to a working computer
and connect directly though a cable line for the updates.
Everything was going fine but I spent many hours running up
and down the steps between the two computers as they played
Murphy’s Law with me all day.
Back
to Stephanie’s computer, I tried a half a dozen other
things that I couldn’t possibly remember. Some were
successful and most were not. One thing that might have made
a difference is going down to my main computer and opening
up two ports that Toontown said were necessary. I
have no clue if I did it right but I do know a couple of things:
1.
It started working shortly making these changes and restarting
my main computer
2. I likely opened my computer up for any hacker to come
in and decimate my entire network.
But
Toontown works upstairs so there you go.
Alex’s
Toontown problem proved a bit more elusive. Reinstalling
Windows 2000 solved the “Out of Range” error but
it still hung up while trying to load Toontown.
My
Gunny had given me a video card that I was going to try but
when I popped open the case, I discovered I had a video card
in it that I wasn’t using. I went ahead and took it
out and tried to put Gunny’s in but soon realized they
were different kinds and I needed a PCI card like I just bought
for Stephanie. So I put the other one back in and tried to
work on it.
It
was an old Diamond Multimedia Stealth 3000 so I went looking
all over the net the find an updated driver. The Diamond site
had a driver for Windows 98 but I didn’t see anything
for Win2000. I downloaded it anyway and my mood was buoyed
when I saw that it supported Windows NT. But when I extracted
the file, it was a confusing mess of trying to copy a batch
file from the CD (which it wasn’t on CD so WTF?) and
to a floppy disk. I gave it a try but after fumbling for over
an hour, I deemed it in the “to hard and it won’t
work anyway” category.
So
I spent most of the rest of the night updating all the software
on the computer and calling it good. I think I’ll see
if the laptop works for Toontown and then the boy
can have that. But for now, that’s all I could handle.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “When
starting out, don't worry about not having enough money.
Limited funds are a blessing, not a curse. Nothing encourages
creative thinking in quite the same way." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
BLOG
entry for this day from 2003
Saturday,
July 17, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
"You
have bled with Wallace, now bleed with me."
|
| -
Robert the Bruce in "Braveheart"
|
The
kids had their last game at the Y this morning and it couldn’t
have ended soon enough. Actually there is one more week but
since we are going to Georgia next weekend, it was the last
week for the Grose family.
Stephanie
had twisted her ankle at practice and combined with the fact
that she was not really into the game and the other team had
a gargantuan player who scored every time he got the ball
(which was every time), the pain of watching this mess was
long and constant.
Alex’s
game was even more frustrating. His coach got so fed up last
week that he said it would be his last week. Carrie said she
overheard him telling another parent he was going to be out
of town but he was around during today’s game, although
not as the coach. One of the kid’s grandfather’s
had stepped up to coach the last two games but most of the
kids gave up when the coach did.
The
end result was that we only had 2 players at game time and
only 3 after a small wait and as the game started, we had
4. Here is where it gets interesting. The other team put out
4 players and we started the game. But as we proceeded to
beat them, they put out 5 players which I thought was pretty
much a jackass move on their part.
We
kept up with them and right before halftime, another one of
our players showed up. The game was neck and neck for the
last half but the other team pulled ahead in the last two
minutes to beat us.
The
only good things about the whole thing was that they were
killing them 4 on 4, keeping up with them when it was 4 on
5, and barely missed beating them in an even match. Plus,
Alex got to be in the entire game and he did magnificently.
I was very proud of him but I was glad it was his last game.
This
experience prompted me to think about coaching next year.
I know Carrie and I could do better and give the kids what
they deserve. Who they give us doesn’t matter; we always
MAKE a good team. The only problem will be the lax refereeing
and the lopsided talent they don’t evenly distribute.
But you can’t complain unless you are part of the solution,
right?
Two
funny/sad things to note from the gym.
First,
there was macho work out guy. He’s a big guy and obviously
works out a lot but a few things just weren’t right.
First, he had that superior air about him and the walk where
his chest was a little too far out and his arms bowed out
and hardly moved which just screamed “I’m
so huge my muscles are taunt all the time.”
Next
was his shaven legs. Ewww. Then there was the Clark Kent glasses
that I haven’t figured out yet. He had that pseudo-deep
voice and I couldn’t help but hear his conversation
with the Y workers (who seem to only work out and make cell
phone calls). As I was fumbling with my headphones to shut
out the world, I heard him loudly talk about another guy who
lifts way less than he does and always has an excuse for not
finishing a workout. The way he talked, you just know that
this is the highlight of his day and if there is no one in
the gym to watch him, the workout is almost not worth the
effort. He reminded me of Elaine's boyfriend on Seinfeld
(What was his name, Puddy?)
Number
2 situation was a guy and his teenage son. The father had
obviously just started a program where he puts his watch beeper
on interval and rushes from machine to machine on a pace.
His poor son was following him everywhere and the saddest
part about it was that the father NEVER stopped correcting
and somewhat berating his son’s form as they moved from
machine to machine.
How
did I know he just started? Well, the father had a gut with
tiny arms, tiny legs, and was sweating profusely. Good on
him that he’s motivated but it bothered me to no end
to hear his little watch going off every 10 seconds and him
constantly lecturing the boy on form. It was sad.
We
tried to re-implement date night but it didn’t work
out too well. It happened to be date night with my wife so
the kids stayed home and we went to see “The Anchorman”
and get a bite to eat.
The
movie was incredibly stupid. I mean it had the vibe of Dumb
and Dumber but not as funny and even less of a plot.
It was a 90 minute mediocre SNL skit. I love Will Farrell
but for $11, I could have passed and caught it on DVD. A few
good laughs but only if you really like Will Farrell and forget
that you paid money to get into the theater.
After
the movie, I was not in a great mood but a little better than
as of late. Carrie wanted to try out a gourmet cheeseburger
place so we went found it and parked. It was not a good sign
that there were people waiting outside. I was not in the mood
to wait for a hamburger. When we asked how long it would be,
they said 50 o 60 minutes. I couldn’t turn around and
leave fast enough. I was NOT going to wait that long for a
burger and fries.
We
started driving around and Carrie suggested TGI Fridays
for the 4th time when I finally said to her, in no uncertain
terms, that I did not want to go there and if I did I would
have agreed one of the other three times she suggested it.
Well,
as you can imagine, that didn’t go over too well so
I was not talked to for the rest of the evening. So we went
home and neither of us had anything for dinner and I finally
turned off the light at about 11:00 after flipping through
the TV for 3 hours.
A
representative ending for the week I had.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Give
yourself an hour to cool off before responding to someone
who has provoked you. If it involves something really
important, give yourself overnight." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
BLOG
entry for this day from 2003
Friday,
July 16, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
"Lower
your flags and march straight back to England, stopping
at every home to beg forgiveness for a hundred years
of theft, rape, and murder. Do this and your men shall
live. Do it not, and every one of you will die today."
|
| -
William Wallace in "Braveheart"
|
Today
was a “2-fer” in the workout department. My new
(and ever-evolving) workout schedule goes something like this:
Mon:
work out at lunch
Tues: run at lunch
Weds: work out at lunch
Thurs: run at lunch
Fri: run at lunch, work out at YMCA after work
Sat: work out at YMCA
Sun: wonder how my life became so congested with working
out
So
I ran again at lunch and if you have ever been in this area
in the summertime, you can picture the scene. Running in the
heat creates a wide gap between the way you look afterwards
and the energy expended. I was dripping wet and felt like
hammered animal waste but I only ran 5 miles. But I ran.
When
I got home, I took a little nap and then went to the YMCA
for the second part of my workout. Friday afternoons are great
to be in the Y because hardly anyone is there. I got through
my workout and to my surprise, it went fairly well. Oh, yes,
there are always those certain exercises you just dread but
overall, I got done with the workout and was happy to complete
a full week of the above schedule. Only 5 to go before I finish
phase 1 of the plan.
I
also saw the grossest of the gross today. God bless him that
he’s working out and he’s obviously come a long
way. I shouldn’t say anything disparaging but I just
can’t help it. The guy must have lost hundreds, yes
that’s “hundreds,” of pounds but he had
yet to lose the flesh. So it was just hanging off of him like
he was wearing a wet, baggy suit of skin. It just wasn’t
the site I wanted to see while trying to grunt out that last
set of chest workout.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Learn
to listen. Opportunity sometimes knocks very softly." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
BLOG
entry for this day from 2003
Thursday,
July 15, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
"The
Almighty says this must be a fashionable fight. It's
drawn the finest people."
|
| -
Stephen in "Braveheart"
|
The
Oprah had a riveting show today. Raping babies. Yes, when
there’s news to be delved into, leave it to The Oprah
to come up with the scoop. Do we really need to cover this?
Does anyone think this is NOT one of the most horrible things
imaginable?
Carrie
had it on downstairs and I didn’t even want to be picking
up pieces of it so I locked myself in my bedroom upstairs
and read my book. This is one time I don’t really mind
burying my head in the sand over. Yuck.
Combined
with my new workouts and 2 hours in front of the TV every
night this week (“I Love the 90s”), I
found that staying up to watch the 11:00 PM Daily Show
was next to impossible. I floundered through “resting”
during commercials and missed most of it tonight. And I know
this is almost blasphemous because I’ve praised Jon
Stewart so much in the past but he is becoming more and more
liberal, anti-Bush, and downright insulting these days. I’m
finding it harder and harder to overlook.
On
a totally unrelated note, my chest is starting to peel. After
last Sunday’s bake-fest at the beach, the pain subsided
yesterday and the peeling started today. I was able to peel
great sheets of thin layers off and it didn’t hurt at
all. In fact, I was compelled to do this. Why? Unknown. It
just beckons me like the toenail fetish I have where I’m
not satisfied until I peel it just a bit too far back to cause
bleeding and pain. But like I said, no pain here yet an irrational
desire to peel and just a smidgen of itching.
Aren't
you glad I shared?
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Visit
Washington D.C. and do the tourist bit." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
Wednesday,
July 14, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
"Not
the archers. My scouts tell me their archers are miles
away and no threat to us. Arrows cost money. Use up
the Irish. Their dead cost nothing."
|
| -
Longshanks in "Braveheart"
|
It
stormed today. And I mean like "you really did something
to make God mad" kind of storm.
My
son, of course, was quivering with excitement, running from
window to window to assess the damage. I was catching my daily
nap and enjoying the patter of rain outside (ideal napping
weather) when all of the sudden, an underwear-filling clap
of thunder exploded right over my house. I really thought
a tree had shattered or something.
Buster
was not amused.
I
got up and looked around only to find a massive amount of
rain coming down outside and my son in a state of stuttering
excitement. The thunder kept coming and Buster became more
and more unamused at the entire state of events.
Then
came the hail. It started coming down in popcorn-sized pellets
but soon turned to pretty good sized chunks. My only thought
was that Truckasaurus would have a few new dents in it. Alex
thought the world was coming to an end.
After
another hour of hard rain, the storm passed and the excitement
was over. All except for the constant re-telling of every
nuance courtesy of my son.
Here
are some pics of the
event.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Never
interrupt when you're being flattered." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
BLOG
entry for this day from 2003
Tuesday,
July 13, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
"There's
a difference between us. You think the people of this
land exist to provide you with position. I think your
position exists to provide those people with freedom.
And I go to make sure that they have it."
|
| -
William Wallace in "Braveheart"
|
Tonight
was the first night of a week long “We Love the
90s” show on VH1. They are covering 2 years per
night from 9:00 to 11:00. Of course this leads right into
The Daily Show from 11:00 to 11:30 so the bottom
line is that I’m becoming one with the couch all week.
I
couldn’t stop laughing at the stuff they brought up
for 1990 and 1991 tonight. One of the more memorable things
was the Dee-Lite “Groove Is In The Heart”
video. One of the comedians who they interview for snide remarks
about a range of subjects is Hal Sparks and he absolutely
cracks me up. This will come dangerously close to “you
had to be there” but here it goes.
They
cut to him making some of the weird sounds in the song and
he does the one, well, rather than trying to explain, just
listen to the original
clip. (after "1, 2, 3...")
He
nailed it and for some reason it was amazingly funny. I think
it had something to do with the fact that everyone remembers
that but didn't know they remembered it until he did it. Why
he would pick that out and then imitate it escapes me because
it doesn't seem funny on paper (or possibly in this blog)
but it came across as memorable.
I
remember the first time I saw that video was when I was in
Saudi Arabia during the Gulf War. Carrie was sending me tapes
of shows and one of them was just an entire tape of MTV. It
was neat to see the videos but just as important was the commercials,
believe it or not. Anything that was a piece of home was valuable.
As
we all gathered around the TV, the video came on and if you’ll
remember, it’s a psychedelic experience with weird camera
angles, swirling backgrounds, and not to mention the three
weirdoes that made up the group. I remember just sitting there
thinking to myself, “What the ^%$%$#> is this?”
I wondered what had happened to the world since I had left
the States a mere months prior to seeing this.
By
the way, I think I would be perfect to be on this show. I
can make fun of things. I do it every day. I would be ideal!!!
I think there should be a grass-roots effort to get me on
that show. OK, ready?….GO!
The
other part that made me laugh out loud was when they were
comparing MC Hammer to Vanilla Ice. Here was the line that
did it for me and was delivered in a totally dead pan manner:
“I
think Vanilla Ice was better because he could rock a mic
like a vandal and could also wax a chump like a candle;
neither of those things MC Hammer could do so I think Vanilla
Ice wins.”
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “If
you know you're going to lose, do it with style." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
BLOG
entry for this day from 2003
Monday,
July 12, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
"It's
all for nothing if you don't have freedom."
|
| -
William Wallace in "Braveheart"
|
I’m
horribly behind on email and I have little to convey today
so I’ll keep this short.
I
d id
my first solo workout at lunch in preparation for the Marine
Corps Marathon on Halloween. Everything went well but since
the weights were listed on my sheet based on the YMCA machines,
I learned quickly that different machines, like the ones at
the Quantico gym, consider weight relative. In other words,
I looked pretty silly sometimes when the weights didn’t
correspond and I had too much weight on the machine.
It
didn’t help that my chest looks like the Martian surface.
The sunburn is worse than I thought and all day I was reminded
of my little oversight yesterday at the beach. Only every
time I moved or when I didn’t. Only those two times.
Oh,
I almost forgot. I ran into a Major who, as a Captain, was
one of the SPCs when I was going through TBS. It was another
weird situation where someone from my past who was an authority
figure was magically transformed into a somewhat equal (he
is a Major, after all). But we chatted like friends and compared
notes on people we knew. Weird.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “When
opportunity knocks, invite it to stay for dinner." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
Sunday,
July 11, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
Princess
Isabelle: The king desires peace.
William Wallace: Longshanks desires peace?
Princess Isabelle: He declares it to me, I swear it.
He proposes that you withdraw your attack. In return
he grants you title, estates, and this chest of gold
which I am to pay to you personally.
William Wallace: A lordship and titles. Gold. That I
should become Judas?
Princess Isabelle: Peace is made in such ways.
William Wallace: Slaves are made in such ways. The last
time Longshanks spoke of peace I was a boy. And many
Scottish nobles, who would not be slaves, were lured
by him under a flag of truce to a barn, where he had
them hanged. I was very young, but I remember Longshank's
notion of peace.
|
| -
Scene in "Braveheart"
|
Today
I decided it would be a good idea to take my family to a lake
and go swimming. I’m writing this in brutal pain due
to a lobster-red effect I have all over my chest. Yes, my
olive-skin failed me and I’ve been overexposed to radiation
to a painful degree.
Random
thought: if I was exposed to any other painful radiation such
as a experiment gone bad or terrorist attack for example,
I’d be freaking out. But since it was just from the
sun, it’s no big deal other than the discomfort. OK,
thought over.
We
got up and went to Lake Anna which I found was only about
½ hour drive from my house. The bonus was that it was
all back roads so I didn’t have to deal with traffic
and any time that happens, life is NOT a big bowl of animal
waste.
To
all of you that think living with me would just be the funnest
thing ever, I proved this morning that you would be horribly,
catastrophically, monumentally wrong. I’ve been in a
funk for a few weeks now and when my funk collided with the
wife’s funk who had put up with me long enough, well,
the immovable object met the unstoppable force. It started
after my son accidentally spilled the contents of the ice
chest in the trunk trying to help and I snapped at him unfairly.
My
fault but it started a chain reaction. After things cooled
down, we got on the road and headed to the beach.
It
was $4 to get in and then an additional $4 per adult and $3
per child to use the beach. Then we had to wear these gay
straps around our wrist or ankle so that we looked like we’d
been tagged by the forestry department. I chose the ankle
which was a mistake, seeing how I have a white band around
my ankle with deep crimson red skin flanking it on either
side. It was also too tight around my ankle and just resulted
in pissing me off in a general sense all day. Yes, sometimes
that's all it takes. Ask Carrie.
After
being shook down to the tune of $18, we made it to the beach
and found it was pretty nice. It had a grassy area where you
could set up as to avoid the sand (which appealed to my “Princess”
ways.) We got set up and hit the lake water which was a nice
warm temperature.
The
beach was not crowded, was clean, and there were no birds
which I found kind of strange. There was little wind and almost
no bugs. Bathrooms were nearby. All and all, it was a great
beach and we had a pretty good day.
I
was caught in that area where I didn’t want to put any
more sun block on because I was going to go in the water again
soon and then the same reasoning held because we were going
to leave soon.
“Hello.
I’m the piper. It’s time, Jason.”
When
I got home to take a shower, I removed my shirt and I almost
heard my chest humming. I looked like a Coke can.
The
shower was meant to clean me off. It might as well been acid
coming out of the shower head.
My
only thought was to get some aloe lotion all over me but it
was almost empty and I had to coax it out by slapping it against
my palm. I got a layer on but it didn’t do much for
the blinding pain.
I
decided to take a nap to escape the pain and laying on my
chest (why, I know not) resulted in the loose shirt I was
wearing creating a random crease pattern on my beet-red chest
that looked like a tangle of messed up sheets. And they were
deep. More pain.
I
applied the aloe again (tap, tap, tap, tap against the palm)
but nothing was going to lesson the pain.
I
deserve this, I know I do. You don’t have to tell me,
I know. OK, don’t rub it in. I’m being properly
punished for my actions today and my general stupidity. Can
we move on?
Good
news: my new Lyra is working fine. I read up on it and it
said to update the firmware right out of the box. In the frenzy
of all the things I tried to do with the first one, I’m
not sure if I did that but I also found out that the Lyra
only works with FAT and I had formatted the MMC card with
the default FAT 32. These two things might or might not have
been the problem with the first one but the bottom line is
that I have 7 hours worth of 32-bit-sampled music at my disposal
now.
Other
good news: I may have been an ass and I may be a burnt up
idiot but I’m not being shot at and I enjoyed a day
at the beach with my family. So it’s a good day.
Other
updates: Tripod is STILL dead.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Be
ruthlessly realistic when it comes to your finances." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
BLOG
entry for this day from 2003
Saturday,
July 10, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
Robert's
Father: "At last, you know what it means to hate.
Now you're ready to be a king."
Robert the Bruce: "My hate will die with you." |
| -
Scene in "Braveheart"
|
OK,
I’ve been on the defense since I posted the playlist
of my Lyra on the July 7th Blog. Here
is an exchange that might explain some of them from someone
who questioned some of my choices. (Yes, I’m being lazy
and reusing an email for my Blog entry. Live with it).
The
words in black are from a friend while my comments are in
blue.
Like
everyone else on this planet, I have my reasons for my music
preferences. Maybe some need explaining. Get prepared to see
me as you've never seen me: more human.
"Proclaimers
- 1000 miles...good song...like Steven Curtis Chapman's version
since I'm a Christian rock music nut....he's good...."God
is God" off Declaration is a good song..."
This
song was big when I was going through MECEP Prep (college
prep course run by the Marine Corps where we spent 10 weeks
in bootcamp style learning mode. Double pace, weekly tests,
uniform inspections, insane PT, etc). It was a rough 10 weeks
and this song will forever be a snapshot of those early mornings
when mind, body, and soul suffered.
"Cypress
Hill?! I have two things to say to you.....what are you on....and
give me some..."
Some
songs I like just for the power of the delivery. I know what
this song is about and I don’t agree with it but I just
like the beat for the running.
"Iris
used to be my favorite song (7th grade)...I sang it in an
audition (albeit crappily) and got the part...yay"
Just
a beautiful song. And I can relate to the line "...and
I don't want the world to see me, 'cause I don't think that
they'd understand..." I think there are times in
everyone's life when everyone feels that way.
Sixpence...another
good Christian contemporary band (i almost abbrev. "contemp"
here but didn't want it to look like "Christian contempt")
I
love the lead singer's voice. She's just adorable-sounding
and it's a "happy-sounding" song. And how many times
does a person hear a beautiful sounding woman singing "Kiss
Me" to you? I know, there should be a better reason
than that but there isn’t.
"Cranberries
are sweet..."
I
always liked "Linger" despite the fact
that I sing it to my son when he farts. Another reason I included
it is because I found the acoustical version and a line jumped
out at me that I had never heard before.
"...
so why were you holding her hand, is that the way we stand,
were you lying all the time, was it just a game to you..."
I
had never listened to the words and never actually knew what
the song was about. When I heard that line, she said it with
such hurt and emotion, it hit me in the gut and I realized
what the song was about.
For
me, it just takes a little novel moment like this and I'm
hooked.
Ok...this
always gets me when people whine about how shy I am....since
I call myself a "writer", that includes various
educational rap songs...including one about Henry IV and Pope
Gregory VII I wrote to "lose yourself" (called "lose
thyself") At one point in my high school career, I donned
a book sock (doo rag), a friends' bling and a X large jersey
and sang my version of Ice Ice Baby (about Henry VIII) in
front of the entire school....including the penguins, I mean,
sisters...(they aren't nuns...I learned that the hard way)
I
know Eminem seems like a weird choice for me but you'd be
surprised. I hate Eminem (or however you spell it) but the
power he delivers in this song combined with the message inspires
me. While I was never a poor white-trash rapper growing up,
I was a poor white-trash kid with little opportunity until
I joined the Marine Corps. So some of the lines speak to how
I felt about joining the Marine Corps to escape poverty.
(Enlisting
in the Marine Corps)
"Look,
if you had one shot, or one opportunity To seize everything
you ever wanted-One moment Would you capture it or just
let it slip?"
"You
only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow This
opportunity comes once in a lifetime yo,"
(The
anger I kept after breaking out of childhood and into adulthood)
"No
more games, I'ma change what you call rage Tear this ...
roof off like 2 dogs caged"
"Best
believe somebody's payin the pied piper"
"Success
is my only ... option, failure's not"
(Bootcamp)
"So
here I go is my shot.
Feet
fail me not or not this may be the only opportunity that
I got"
And
finally, a motto I've proven.
"You
can do anything you set your mind to, man"
Go REM....I listened to everybody hurts on repeat when this
guy....we'll call him "Matt"...blew me off....finally
got me through it (I nailed him in the gut last karate class
and after our match he keeled over in pain....hahaha...well,
okay, maybe not "keel" but the story sounds bitter...urgh...better...)
Another
song that I like because of the beauty of the song even though
I didn’t even know what "Losing My Religion"
meant for a long time. (It's a Southern term meaning to lose
one's temper). It was also the first song that I ever heard
the mandolin played in and I loved it. I know, I'm odd.
Kelly Clarkson? A Marine listens to Kelly Clarkson?......wow.
'nuff said.
OK,
you got me. While this in no way represents any actual or
implied support of the entire American Idol craze, I get hooked
by powerful delivery. When she kicks it into overdrive with
the chorus, I have to admit my heart speeds up a little and
that's good for running.
mommas and papas...i actually like them....very good.
Thanks.
I'm a sucker for perfect harmonies.
YES!
Another Loreena McKennitt fan! Dude, I never thought I find
another one...she's like totally awesome!
Mummer's
Dance will always and forever remind me of my sweet Seattle.
For me, it's a dead-on representation of the Starbucks-drinking,
tree-hugging, Birkenstock-wearing culture of the great Northwest.
Blind
Mellon "No Rain"...my theme song...after "Casey
Jones"...
Wondreful
"Beatlesque" song that I love to sing along to.
And since I'm an incurable nap-taker, I can identify with
the line: "... and I don’t understand why I
sleep all day..." Too bad the lead singer drowned
in his own vomit after taking too many drugs.
Chili
Peppers...otherside - their best song
Spending
so much time in California, the Chili Peppers take me back.
Good for running.
billy
IDOL!! YES! I have Rebel Yell, I am not ashamed of admitting...
High
School. Yes, I lived the original Billy Idol days and I miss
them sometimes. The power and the rage were/are intoxicating.
Tears4Fears....Got
Shout stuck in my head throughout the entire 1st term of school
since the student coucil's theme was "shout" and
had it plastered around the school....
The
beat is infectious. This was junior high for me and the idea
to "Shout" seemed very appropriate. Plus,
I won their tape (yes, tape) off the radio (Songs From
the Big Chair) in 10th grade.
Black
Eye Peas ---- someone should cook them now before the music
gets any worse (my sister listens to them...i just can't...not
me)
I
could be accused of being seduced by the female lead singer
(Fergie) because she is ... she's... well, she's not hideous
ugly. But that would be shallow of me. Actually, she has a
great voice and the fusion of the different styles is actually
pretty motivating which, again, is good for running.
Stacy's
mom is disturbing...
OK,
I'm guilty on this one. Like "Take On Me"
by Aha, the video is more than the song and results
in the song being a hit. I thought the premise was pretty
funny and when they got Rachel Hunter to do the video, it
just became "that song with Rachel Hunter in the video."
But the song got in my head and I wanted some recent songs
on my playlist. I'm not proud of this.
thong
song? you're living in the 90s, man....no no no...
I
thought this song was a joke the radio was playing on the
morning show when I was in 29 Palms. I had no idea it was
an actual song. Then it got popular and I got found myself
hooked on the beat. It's a great pace-setter but the theme
is obviously racy.
true
colors is prettiful...
...
but I'm still a sucker for a beautiful song. This one rates
up there with "Time After Time" as Cindy's
greatest offerings. I almost had to hand in my man-card for
listening to this.
I
can't believe you had the nerve to type Shakira directly above
Metallica....Unforgiven is one of their best songs...I found
a link to it in Russian and my teacher says it's a perfect
translation...i'll learn by the end of...my life...
Guilty
again. I was walking through a Wal-Mart in Monterey, visiting
the sight and sound department as usual when I passed the
wall of TVs. There was a woman dancing on the screens with
wild blond hair doing this belly-dancing thing and singing
this salsa-sounding dance-beat heavy-bassed song. It might
have been one of the most exotic things I'd ever seen. It
was this combination that made me stop dead in my tracks,
mouth agape, unashamedly standing there staring in the middle
of the store like a little kid. I thought, "WWWWho
is this?"
But
to redeem myself, after a bucket of ice-water over my head,
I realized I really did like a couple of her songs. They're
powerful and running-worthy. Would I like it as much if she
looked like Hillary Clinton? The jury is out.
Metallica
was the result of a deployment. Every time I went on deployment,
I was subjected to the music that everyone brought so I would
come back to listening to something else. After 3 months of
Metallica, I got past my resistance to heavy metal and actually
identified with a lot of the lyrics, especially Unforgiven.
Oh,
and the order was compliments of WinAmp's "Generate a
Playlist in HTML" feature.
OKay,
even I'll admit that I was humming "what if god was one
of us" while I was biking the other day, so yeah, that's
good...
I
can't believe some religious folks got upset about this. It's
a good song with a novel question. I like the beat and the
video was memorable if only because she looked so pretty in
it and in all other pictures I've seen she looks just weird.
Paula
cole...muy excellente, el capitan
Muchos
gracious. Another beatnik type most people wouldn't think
I'd like but she has an incredible voice. Plus, "I
Don't Want to Wait" is actually about a woman singing
about her man coming back from war. It's a very pertinent
statement about military issues.
baha
men? oh boohoo
Sorry
about that but it gets the blood pumping for running. Plus,
I'm a Washington Husky so whattya gonna do?
collective
soul....why pt 2...coolio...their lead singer just gets hotter
with time...not that that matters, of course (wink wink).....or
should you care, I assume Chris Isaak rocks my socks....and
I had a song by him stuck in my head when that **** Matt first
said Hi to me....still not bitter....hahahaha
"Why,
Part 2": The guitar riff just spoke to me. It's
a must for running to. Unlike Shakira and the Black Eyed Peas,
looks had nothing to do with it being on my list. But for
you, I understand.
Every
list I ever make will have Wicked Game on it. What
an incredible song and if that wasn't enough, the video was
mind-boggling. The haunting song with the black and white,
clouds rolling in double time, Chris Isaak's movie star looks
romping on a beach with a model... it just doesn't get any
better than that. Perfect video for a perfect song and a perfect
song for a perfect video.
missy elliot....oh man oh man.....and to think I thought
there was hope for your musical taste.....looking down the
list...sir mix a lot? uh oh
Maybe
the dirtiest song (in company with Thong Song, OPP, Rumpshaker,
and Baby Got Back) on the list but I like the
beat. Plus, I found out what the unintelligible lyric was.
Here is the snippet:
"Is
it worth it, let me work it
I put my thing down, flip it and reverse it"
Then
there is a line after that which makes absolutely no sense.
The secret is that it's the second line played in reverse.
It sounds really cool if you ignore what she's singing about.
Finally,
Sir Mix-A-Lot. Maybe one of the funniest songs in history.
Yes, it's a tribute to the posterior and yes, I lose a great
deal of moral high ground by enjoying it, but he's from Seattle
and the song is just plain hilarious. Sorry, we can't be perfect
all of the time.
Ironically,
there is no Sarah McLachlan on there and you can see how I
feel about her on my website. I'll save that for another email.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “When
you realize you made a mistake, take immediate steps to
correct it." |
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- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
BLOG
entry for this day from 2003
Friday,
July 9, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“They
are saying goodbye in their own way. Playing outlawed
tunes on outlawed pipes.” |
| -
Argyle Wallace in "Braveheart"
|
Like
I promised, here is the story behind Tripod.
It
all started after I left 29 Palms and we were visiting Seattle
before starting the Naval Postgraduate School in Monterey
California. We took the opportunity to take a vacation to
the Northwest and while we were at it, we shot over to Boise
Idaho to visit my mentor and friend, Shane
Maxey.
While
in Idaho, we visited a mall and the kids wanted to hit the
pet store where I kept myself busy looking at the puppies.
We didn’t have Buster
yet and I was pining for a dog; a situation my wife was not
too keen about. But I could dream.
Stephanie
had other plans. She was looking at getting a hamster and
was laying it on thick over the previous weeks. I don’t
know what spell she cast but somehow she convinced Carrie
to agree to a Teddy Bear hamster that only cost $8. What Carrie
was thinking I don’t know but it likely had something
to do with her having a beloved pair of these little monsters
when she was growing up.
The
argument went like this: it only cost $8 and Lindsey (Shane’s
daughter) had an old 10 gallon fish tank we could have for
free. This was rounding out to a cheap pet for the girl, right?
Bedding,
wheel, toys, house thing, food, and a dozen other items I
wasn’t too sure the purpose of. Then the coup de grat;
an entire habitrail system. How we went from $8 and a free
tank to all of this is still under investigation but the end
result is a lot of money on the newest addition to the Grose
family.
We
got it back to Seattle and the kids were excited beyond words.
They doted over the little guy, which Stephanie decided to
call Maisey (don’t ask), and all was well for a few
days.
I
had to fly back to Monterey alone to make the July 1st check
in date and since housing wasn’t ready until August,
the family was going to follow in trace later in July.
Ironically,
the morning I was to leave, something happened. This was karma
at its best because back in 1987 on the morning I was leaving
for bootcamp from Carrie’s parents’ house, we
discovered their beloved hamster had died. This was due to
letting it roam around the backyard during my farewell BBQ
the day before and it’s generally accepted it ingested
some of the bug spray Lyle had put down a few days earlier.
The family was devastated but I had more important things
on my mind at the time.
Fifteen
years later, a similar but "other end of the spectrum"
event unfolded. Scott, Carrie’s youngest brother, came
walking in through the garage where we were keeping Maisey,
and asked why there was a lot of them. He’s a kind of
a jokster so we thought nothing of it but he was adamant.
We all went out to see what he was talking about and to our
surprise, Maisey had given birth to about a dozen babies.
Wonderful.
This hamster thing was getting better all the time.
Within
a couple of days we had drama of the highest level. A couple
of them died which Maisey promptly ate. One was kicked out
of the nest and she wouldn’t take back in. One was a
runt.
This
provided a not-so-welcome opportunity to educate the kids
about life. Death, cannibalism, natural selection: yeah, all
the lessons were there in full living color for us to explain
to our two wide-eyed children. Of course I was gone in Monterey
so I got most of it in updates over the phone.
The
kids did their research over the internet and found that you
weren’t supposed to touch them for 2 weeks and that
they needed someplace quiet. So Carrie left them in the garage
and checked on their progress daily.
At
one point, Carrie left a little piece of cloth in the cage
for the mother to use as bedding. Maisey promptly snagged
it and wove it into the nest. This would become significant
later.
When
the time finally came where the kids could touch the babies,
there was a runt and two others left out of the bunch. Carrie
had to separate them or they would kill each other (great
family bonds they have) and she intended to take the babies
to the pet shop. But Carrie noticed that the runt wasn’t
moving around too much and she discovered that what had happened
was that the cloth that the mother had used became wrapped
around the baby’s leg, cutting off the circulation and
“killing” the leg. The mother had wrapped it so
tight and since we couldn’t touch the babies for 2 weeks,
we had no idea of the situation.
So
the baby dragged this dead leg around until it just fell off.
When they decided to take all of them to the pet shop, I think
my daughter put it best:
“Who
would want to buy a three-legged runt?”
So
they kept the mom and the runt. After all of the drama, we
were left with 2 vermin.
The
kids wanted to name the baby Jerry. I thought this very humorous
because of the political incorrectness of naming a handicapped
hamster “Jerry” as in “Jerry’s
Kids” but their intent was Jerry as in “Tom
and Jerry.”
I
went with “Splat” and when asked why,
I explained that was the sound it would make if I threw it
against the wall. But in deference to its lost limb, I went
with a secondary name too: Tripod.
When
we got to Monterey, Maisey got out of her cage. I don’t
know how the little teenage mother did it but she was gone
one morning, never to seen again. Fine, if you think you can
make it on your own, more power to ya. I figure she was a
snack to some lucky Monterey wildlife creature. We often left
the back door open so she must have smelled freedom and gone
for it.
But
her son did not fall far from the tree. Despite its obvious
handicap, Tripod managed to make a series of escape attempts.
It got out one night and I chuckled as I imagined to doing
its three-legged scurry across the floor. It had adapted by
using its tail as a sort of 4th leg, although I still imagined
the “thump-thump-thump” of a three-legged walking
pattern.
We
found it the next day.
A
few weeks later, he did it again despite a reinforced cage.
A few days after that, I saw something scurry under the oven.
I pulled the cover off the bottom and found Tripod staring
right at me. I wasn’t about to reach for the little
bastard because every time I handled him, he either bit me
or pissed on me.
“CARRIE!”
came my response as I awoke her from a sound sleep.
“The
rat is under the oven.”
She
got up, got him, chastised him for getting out, and put him
back in the cage.
This
started to impress me. First, it was getting out of more and
more secure cages. Second, it was adapting and learning from
its previous mistakes. It stayed hidden for a few days this
time. I thought to myself he was like the Borg and the next
time he got out, he would put all the hard-earned lessons
a hamster can retain and do a Rambo-type of survival stint
where we’d never find him.
He
bided his time and one night a few weeks later, conditions
must have been right. In the morning, he had made a run for
it. My thought was we’d never find him.
Weeks
went by and the kids were depressed. Maisey had never been
found so we assumed Tripod got out the door and met a similar
fate. After all, how long could a 3-legged hamster last in
the wild? We even cleaned out the cage and put it in the storage
closet, accepting we were down to Buster in the pet department.
Carrie
screamed. It was weeks later as she was cleaning out the hall
closet and saw something move in the back. It was Tripod and
she scooped him up. Upon further investigation, we found some
interesting items in the nest he had made in the back of the
closet. There was the chewed remains of a canvas bag for a
bed. But the most interesting thing was the chunks of half-eaten
dog food. He had actually snuck out at night and snagged Buster’s
food, dragged pieces back in his three-legged way, and stored
food. We figured he was drinking Buster’s water to survive,
too.
It
was impressive that the little bastard had escaped for a third
time, survived for weeks on stolen dog food and water while
keeping out of site. This does not say much for Buster but
I begrudgingly gave a measure of respect to the little guy
for surviving and learning from his previous forays out of
the cage.
Carrie
fixed the cage in such a way that he would never again escape
and it stayed that way for three years.
Our
household is the Land of Everlasting Pets due to
Carrie’s care and love habits. She would force the kids
to keep the cage clean and she herself would give fresh water
and veggies to Splat just about every day, along with high
pitch whistles and talking. We all shake our heads but Tripod
would always respond in kind.
I
don’t know how long hamsters are supposed to last but
I do know it’s not as long as Tripod lasted, especially
considering it was the runt and only had three legs. But last
it did and seemed to lead a happy hamster life. It would use
its wheel and we even had a ball for it which Carrie would
let it roll around the house in. She had to keep me from playing
“Bowling for Dollars” with him when centrifugal
(or is it centripetal) force would paste him to the inside
wall of the ball as I whizzed it down the hall.
Father
Time started taking his penance though as Tripod lost an eye
(adding Cyclops to his name list). How something
in a cage all day loses an eye, I’m not sure but it
happened. Carrie said he started scratching at it and then
would not open it. So then he was missing a leg and an eye.
But he kept going.
In
the last few months, things got worse. He seemed to have lost
the other eye (Ray Charles) and then started using
his wheel less and less. Toward the end, he just sat in one
spot and slept. He would drag himself over to the bowl and
eat, only to return to the same spot and go back to sleep.
My
guess is that he starved to death when he couldn’t drag
himself anymore. He was a stubborn old coot though and lasted
much longer than anyone thought possible.
Stephanie
was the one who discovered his passing. She came out on the
deck where we were all standing and said that Jerry wasn’t
moving and he was cold. I got up to check and sure enough,
he was gone. I scooped him
up in the little lid (the one that stopped his exo-cage
excursions) and took him outside to see Carrie one last time.
Carrie didn’t want to even see him and I asked if it
was because it was “Ewwww” or “Ooooh.”
She said it was both and it just upset her.
I
took a shovel and with the kids at my side, we went to the
side of the house. We picked a spot and when I jumped on the
shovel top with both feet, I hit a boulder and the handle
jerked back right into my crotch. Good one, Tripod, with your
last breath you spit on thee.
The
kids took it well (they had stopped playing with it a long
time ago, especially after we got a guinea pig) and watched
as I dropped him in the shallow hole. Just like that, I put
the dirt back and packed it down with my foot. The kids put
some wildflowers over the spot and we put the plastic top
to the cage over the flowers.
So
ends the story that was Jerry/Splat/Tripod/Cyclops/Ray Charles.
May you rest in peace.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “When
parents introduce you to their children, say 'I ahve looked
forward to meeting you, because your parents are always
bragging about you.'" |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
BLOG
entry for this day from 2003
Thursday,
July 8, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“If
anyone brushes against you, recoil and holler 'Bad touch!'” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
Life
and death continues at the Grose household.
The
theme is more “Death” today so be prepared.
What
a day. Nothing much was happening most of the day and then
Blog entries just started flying out of nowhere.
Boring
stuff first: I walked at lunch because I knew I’d be
working out after work This didn’t stop my from ending
up soaking wet in the Virginia sweltering Hell. I hate this
place, weather-wise. OK, I feel better. Death connection:
I felt like dying even after just walking.
I
made such a big deal out of my new
MP3 player and after spending hours last night putting the
songs on there, I ran into trouble this morning riding the
train.
Tangent
rant: I showed up just in time to catch the train as it was
pulling up. Without thinking about it, I hopped on, took a
right and found myself in a very snazzy car. Are these new
cars they just installed. Oooooh.
Fat
chance. I discovered I was on a dreaded Amtrak. I would rather
swallow a Honeybucket than ride on one of these but by the
time I got my wits about me, the conductor had pulled up the
stairs and I was stuck. I wasn’t even sure I should
be on it.
I
asked the rider in front of me if this was the 7:50 or a really
late Amtrak. He told me it was the latter and my heart sank.
“Am
I supposed to be on this?”
A
lady piped up, “If you have a ten trip ticket, you
are OK.”
I
did so I felt a little better. But the air didn’t seem
to be on so I was sweating all the way into work.
What
I entirely expected came to pass. I was busily trying to get
to the end of my Harry Potter book (Goblet of
Fire) and not only was it was getting juicy, I was anticipating
the thrill of finishing a 734 page book. From the corner of
my eye, I saw the fat conductor standing there. Here we go.
“Yes?”
“Ticket?”
“Right
here around my neck in clear view.”
“Can
I see it?”
I
held it up so he could get his scrutinizing look at it and
looked at me like I smelled of baked butt fungus.
“Where
are you going?”
“Quantico.”
“You
can get out there.”
“You
mean the exit?”
To
this he said nothing but walked off. Five minutes later, yet
another conductor was standing there to interrupt my reading.
“Yes?”
“Ticket?”
“Right
here around my neck in clear view. In fact, it’s right
where it was when the other conductor asked for it.”
“Where
are you going?”
“Quantico.
Just like I told the other guy.”
“I’ll
be three cars back so unless I can get the conductor to
open that one for you, it might be quite a trip when you
debark.”
“Your
assistance is admirable.”
Five
minutes go by and I sense yet another presence. I look up
and it’s the second guy again.
“Yes?”
“I
got him to open that exit when you get off.”
“Really?
Just for me, the paying customer? Thanks but let’s
just get it out of the way. Is there possibly anything else
that you have to tell me between here in Quantico? Anything
at all, let’s get it out right now because I would
genuinely love to finish this trip without a 4th interruption,
4 more than I normally get when I ride the VRE.”
I
think that did it because I didn’t hear from anyone
again. I really detest Amtrak but they start it. Believe me,
if I can help it, I don’t get on their trains.
OK,
back to the death theme.
While
I was walking to the train station from Truckasaurus, oblivious
of the hassle I was about to stumble into, I had my headphones
on and enjoying my new Lyra. Then it started skipping. How
does a solid state flash memory system with no moving parts
skip digital music? I didn’t know but it got worse and
worse until I finally had to turn it to the radio. The fuzzy
radio. This did not bode well for the new MP3 player.
At
lunch when I walked, I gave it another try and it seemed to
make a slight recovery in the middle of the walk. But then
by the end it was skipping again. When I got back to my office,
I turned it off and on a few times but then it just gave me
an error when I tried to turn it on. It said that there was
a bad or missing system file.
WWWWWhat?!?!?!?!
Pissed-meter:
pegged.
I
would just have to wait until I got home and see what happened
when I plugged it in the computer.
Zoom…
another tangent. I’ll get back to the Lyra but I’m
going chronologically here (sorta).
I
went straight to the gym for the 4th of 5 sessions with my
trainer. I was a little apprehensive because I just didn’t
feel all that well and the only other time we did this particular
workout, I felt like vomiting or fainting in no particular
order.
I
got through it and felt a lot better having accomplished it.
I guess it helped that I talked to a contractor today who
lost 75 pounds since January by just cutting carbs and walking.
At least I don’t have to go through something like that.
I gave him some advice on running (start by walking 9 minutes
and walking 1 and then when you feel up to it, go to 8 and
2. Keep going until you get to running 9 and walking 1).
After
the workout, I went home and was too tired to attack the Lyra
right away. There was other drama to attend to.
The
rat is dead. I will expound on the whole Splat story in
tomorrow’s Blog but to cut to the chase, the 3 year
old Teddy Bear Hamster we got in Idaho on vacation finally
went to the big running wheel in the sky. My daughter found
him dead in the cage. Don’t be sad, he lived much longer
than he should have, had lost both eyes somehow, and started
out as the runt with a missing leg (hence on of my many names
for him: Tripod).
So
I had to do the whole "bury him on the side of the house"
thing where I jumped on the shovel top with both feet only
to hit a boulder and have the handle jerk back right into
my crotch. Good one, Tripod, with your last breath you spit
on thee.
The
kids were OK with it (placed flowers and the plastic top to
his cage over the spot) but Carrie was the most upset. Animals
love her and that’s the real reason the little bastard
lasted so long. She talked to it in high pitch squeaks and
gave it fresh veggies all the time. I had a pellet I used
to show it and told it it would die from lead poisoning one
day.
After
this was done, I dealt with the Lyra. I plugged it in and
after several iterations of freezing my computer and acting
all kinds of weird, I resigned myself to getting my songs
off it and have Carrie return it. Even this proved difficult
though.
At
first I thought I could just copy the songs onto the computer
and maybe just reload them. I got the songs off the external
card but the internal memory would not give up the songs (OK,
it did but I didn’t want to wait the 70 minutes it thought
it needed just to copy them). I wanted to have a list that
I could reuse when I put them back on and decided the actual
files were the best bet.
When
this didn’t work, I decided to just open up the file
and do a screen capture. That way I could see what files were
on there and reload them. Though normally a simple task, I
wrestled with that too until I found out that I had to take
off the F-Lock off my keyboard.
Tangent
off the tangent: this is an annoying feature of my Microsoft
keyboard because when I restart my computer, it leaves the
F-Lock off and then when I push F12 to preview one of my webpages
in Dreamweaver, it tries to send whatever is active
to the printer. Pisses me off every single time.
So
I got the screen capture, pasted it to a Word document (which
only worked if I unplugged the USB cable to the Lyra) and
saved it.
The
situation further degraded to just getting the damn songs
off the Lyra so I could put them back on. Well, re-read what’s
happened so far and then use your magical powers to surmise
if it worked out.
I
couldn’t even get them off the Lyra and it kept freezing
up my computer until I yanked the USB cord connected to the
Lyra. Fine, I give up.
I
just reformatted the damn drive and then put the system files
back on. But I couldn’t leave it at that so I copied
about 5 songs onto it and listened to it, just in case.
Skip
to my Lou, skip to my Lou, my darling…
Game,
set, match. Remove the files and call it a night/eternity
for the Lyra. The bastard goes back tomorrow and I will try
again. If it does the same thing, the Kazoo will forever hold
a special place in my heart and the Lyra, as well as all RCA
MP3 players in general, will never grace the Grose continuum
again.
Death
train.
Dead songs.
Dead muscles.
Dead Tripod.
Dead Lyra.
Today
was a bucket of sunshine.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Never
tell anybody they don't have a good sense of humor." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
BLOG
entry for this day from 2003
Wednesday,
July 7, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“Stare
at your thumb and say 'I think it's getting larger.'” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
Rebirth.
Like
a phoenix rising out of the ashes, a Lyra came into my possession
via my wife’s Costco trip. So of course I spent most
of the night messing with it and getting the songs onto it.
It’s never too early to cost you a night of free time;
the first of many.
The
day started at 0533 when I realized I needed to get my butt
out of bed an get ready for my 0630 meeting with my personal
trainer. I sat up, downed a big mug of water, and as if on
cue, the phone rang. It was Greg telling me he got called
into his other job (corrections officer) and would have to
reschedule. I was only half irritated with this since it meant
I would get more than 5 hours of sleep but my hopes were dashed
as I laid there unable to go back to sleep. WTFO? So I got
up and messed around on the computer until I decided to make
my way into work.
At
work, it was a short/long day. Short due to the fact that
I had a 1300 meeting in Crystal City so my day at the office
was cut in half. Long because we ended up leaving Crystal
City at about 1600 heading south. Yes folks, commuter’s
Hell.
But
half of that was in the carpool lane (we had 3 people) an
the other half was just the Gunny and me. I got home at about
1745, just in time to be really tired. Shortly after, Carrie
arrived with the coveted Lyra.
I’m
one of those people who have to read the directions. So a-readin’
I did go. It was a lot of the basic stuff (shock hazard, don’t
eject the card while playing, don’t keep snagging the
cord while on the treadmill and flinging it to the ground
where it hits the treadmill and is further tossed upon contact
with the tread. You know, the usual stuff.)
I
always have a certain stress factor because it seems that
they want you to install the drivers and software in a very
specific order and if you hose it up, things go really bad.
So I followed along Barney-style to make sure I didn’t
screw it up.
I
screwed it up.
It
wasn’t my fault. It’s counter-intuitive not to
plug it in.
“Here’s
a disk but don’t follow these directions if you don’t
NOT have Windows 98 or Windows ME unless you have them but
not both and then only if you install them only on a machine
with compatible drivers. If so, consult your computer documentation.”
I
guessed I skipped the first step because it only had to do
with Windows 98. I have XP. It thought I should be duly punished
for this and left it ambiguous.
It
had me put the disk in and install some system application
program. Why, I’m not sure but I am sure that if I don’t,
bad things will happen and I will be a substandard human being.
After
that I was to install the Music Butt Munch software, which
I have very similar feelings with genitalia shock therapy.
To make matters worse, it wanted me to remove the current
version I had on there; a version I took great pains to get
right long ago and is actually a later version than this new
disk. But like a lemma, I obliged.
OK,
I got the system application. I have the Music Butt Munch
(zzzzzap!) and now I’m ready to plug the Lyra in. I
do so and a variety of things happen. First, a new drive letter
shows up. Well, that’s good, right?
I
push it and it says that it’s not formatted. That’s
bad. I don’t want to format it because I assume there
is software on it that it needs to run.
So
I backtrack and reinstall everything up to this point. For
some reason, it has me start the computer over again this
time. Hmmmm, different than last time.
Turns
out that it upgraded Music Butt Munch to the latest version
(8.2) so that was good.
I
threw caution to the wind and reformatted the drive. It worked
and I put a test song on it (Headstrong by Trapt).
Now it had two songs on it: the one I put on there and an
annoying little song it had on there by default. But the confusing
thing was that the annoying song didn’t show up when
I accessed the drive through my computer. Strange.
Also,
I noticed that it was only accessing one drive and not 2 (the
internal and the 64 MB MMC card I put in it). No matter what
I did or where I looked, I couldn’t find the other drive.
Then
I popped out the card and noticed that I had no drives. Lo
and behold, it was only seeing the card and not the internal!!!
Did I have to format it? Did I have to turn it on? Nothing
in the documentation told me this so I simply started crying.
Just kidding. But I was getting pissed.
Here
is where divine intervention comes in. The directions for
deleting a file told me to make sure the Lyra was off. The
thing was plugged into the computer and I pushed the off button
but nothing happened. So I kept pressing it and suddenly,
it said it was “switching.” After it was done,
I could see the other drive on my computer and there was the
annoying song. So of course I deleted the little bastard right
away.
Quite
by accident I discovered that you have to switch between the
internal and external drives by pushing the stop button. Nowhere
in the documentation does it mention this little factoid.
Kazoo
wouldn’t have played with my emotions like this.
Now
I had it figured out and it was time to put some music on.
I
knew I should have waited.
In
the old version of Music Butt Munch, you had to use their
crappy little interface to get the music on the player. Now
it shows up as a drive so you can drag and drop songs on there.
But you still have the problem of lowering the sampling rate
to get more songs on there. But with my handy
dandy conversion tool (which gives right-click functionality
to convert to a variety of sampling rates), I could bypass
Music Butt Munch altogether.
Here’s
how I did it. I created a folder in my MP3 file for the songs
I wanted on the Lyra. I then went through my collection and
copied what I wanted into the folder. Of course I grabbed
way too many but at 128 KBPS, I could cut it in half when
I converted it. It was a little more than half so I had to
make some decisions. The final size was 201 MB and I had a
total of 197 MB.
After
I got a copy of the full files in the folder, I just chose
them all, right clicked, and an hour later they were all converted
to 64 KBPS. Then I dragged them over to the Lyra but they
wouldn’t all fit so I had to split them up and treat
the internal and external as separate drives. Not as clean
as I’d like but workable.
7
hours of music, Baby. Here is what I picked (don’t laugh).
The
Proclaimers - I Would Walk 1000 Miles
Len - If You Steal My Sunshine
Heavy D & the Boyz - In Living Color
Cypress Hill - Insane In The Brain
Goo Goo Dolls - Iris
Rob Base - It Takes Two
House of Pain - Jump Around
Will Smith - Just the Two of Us
Sixpence None the Richer - Kiss Me
Beth Hart - LA Song Out Of This Town
Cranberries - Linger (acoustic)
Eminem - Lose Yourself (Album)
R.E.M - Losing My Religion
Kelly Clarkson - Miss Independence
Everything But The Girl - Missing
The Mommas & Papas - Monday, Monday
Merill Bainbridge - Mouth
Loreena McKennitt - Mummers' Dance
Blind Melon - No Rain
Heavy D - Now That We Found Love
Animotion - Obsession
Murray Head - One Night In Bangkok
Naughty By Nature - OPP
Red Hot Chili Peppers - Otherside
Billy Idol - Rebel Yell
Frankie Goes To Hollywood - Relax
Jesus Jones - Right Here Right Now
Falco - Rock Me Amadeaus
Herbie Hancock - Rockit
Tevin Campbell - Round And Round
Wrecks N Effect - Rumpshaker
Red Hot Chili Peppers - Scar Tissue
Real Life - Send Me An Angel (Extended)
Tears for Fears - Shout
Black Eyed Peas - Shut Up
Terrence Trent D'arrby - Sign Your Name Across My Heart
Eminem - Sing For The Moment
Onyx - Slam
Someday - Sugar Ray.mp3
Southside - Moby ft. Gwen Stefani.mp3
Stacy's Mom - Fountains Of Wayne.mp3
Start the Commotion - The Wiseguys.mp3
Super Duper Love - Joss Stone.mp3
Superstar - Cypress Hill.mp3
The Freshman - The Verve Pipe.mp3
The Reason - Hoobastank.mp3
The Way - Fastball.mp3
Thong Song - Sisco.mp3
M.C. Hammer - Too Legit To Quit
Toy Soldiers - Martika .mp3
True Colors - Cindy Lauper.mp3
Tubthumping - Chumbawamba.mp3
Turn This Mutha Out - MC Hammer.mp3
Unbelievable - EMF.mp3
Underneath Your Clothes - Shakira.mp3
Unforgiven - Metallica.mp3
What I Am - Edie Brickell.mp3
What If God Was One Of Us - Joan Osborne .mp3
What It's Like - Everlast.mp3
What Would Happen - Merideth Brooks.mp3
What's Up - 4 Non Blondes.mp3
When Its Over - Sugar Ray.mp3
Whenever Wherever - Shakira.mp3
Paula Cole - Where Have All The Cowboys Go
Black Eyed Peas - Where Is The Love
Baha Men - Who Let the Dogs Out
Tag Team - Whoomp! (There it is)
Collective Soul - Why PT2
Chris Isaak - Wicked Game
Tone Loc - Wild Thing
Terrence Trent Darby - Wishing Well
Missy Misdemeanor Elliott - Work It
Sir Mix-A-Lot - Baby Got Back
Goo Goo Dolls - Black Balloon
Puddle of Mudd - Blurry
Young MC - Bust A Move
The Mammas And The Pappas - California Dreamin'
Crazy in Love - Beyonce Knowles Ft Jay-Z
Fiona Apple - Criminal
Crimson and Clover - Joan Jet.mp3
Damn I Wish I Was Your Lover - Sophie B. Hawkins.mp3
Days Go By - Dirty Vegas.mp3
Drive - Incubus.mp3
Every Morning - Sugar Ray.mp3
Fly - Sugar Ray.mp3
Freshman (acoustic) - Verve Pipe.mp3
Gangster's Paradise - Coolio.mp3
Get Jiggy Wit It - Will Smith.mp3
Going Back To Cali - LL Cool J.mp3
Good Riddance (acoustic) - Green Day.mp3
Headstrong - Trapt.mp3
Heart And Soul - T'pau.mp3
Hello - Evanescence.mp3
Hemmorhage in My Hand - Fuel.mp3
Here Without You - Three Doors Down.mp3
Hey Mama - Black Eyed Peas.mp3
Hey Pretty - Poe.mp3
Hey Ya - Outkast.mp3
Home - Bone Thugs and Harmony ft Phil Collins.mp3
I Don't Wanna Wait - Paula Cole.mp3
Here
are some links to back in the day when I had these kind of
troubles and/or blog interactions with Kazoo.
October
19th, 2002
January
31, 2004
June
10, 2004
and
of course...
July
6th, 2004
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Make
every effort to attend weddings and funerals." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
BLOG
entry for this day from 2003
Tuesday,
July 6, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“Wear
'X-Ray Specs' and leer suggestively at other passengers.” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
Life
and death at the Grose house
Over
the last few weeks, we have been keeping track of some babies.
Carrie noticed a bird flying in and out of a hanging plant
on our porch, under the awning. Curiosity getting the best
of her, she took the plant down and found a nest with bird
eggs.
Weeks
went by and her and the kids tracked the progress of the eggs
as they started to hatch. Now the little chicks look like
this.
.jpg)
It’s
been a wonderful experience for the kids as they check on
them every couple of days, during which the mother screeches
at them.
I
learned on Snopes that it’s a myth that a mother bird
will reject chicks handled by humans. Seems they don’t
have much of a sense of smell. But
here, read for yourself.
When
I informed the kids of this, they instantly wanted to hold
the birds but we obviously had to put the kibosh on that.
And I’m not allowed to kill any birds with my pellet
gun in the back yard anymore. Oh well, I’m now up before
them anyhow so no need for murderous rampages.
But
for every life that is created, another one is sacrificed.
So it was today when I had to bid farewell to a good friend.
We had been through a lot together and as I laid it down in
it’s final resting place, I commented:
“You
had a good run. In fact, many good runs.”
Yes,
I’m deeply saddened to report that my beloved Kazoo
MP3 player finally went to the big Napster site in the sky.
I wept.
.jpg)
It
happened after a long sickness. For a long time, it started
to go through batteries faster and faster. It also had trouble
starting with a new set of batteries. I guess it didn’t
help that I kept snagging the cord while on the treadmill
and flinging it to the ground where it would hit the treadmill
and be further tossed upon contact with the tread. This happened
twice in the last two weeks and I guess it was just too much
for the little fella.
I
joke but I do get sentimental about absurd things like this.
I thought about how many miles that little MP3 player went
with me. It was there during numerous marathons and many more
training sessions. Not to mention two 50 milers. It kept me
company on the long Saturday runs in Monterey and the early
morning runs when only me and the wolves were awake. It played
on through the deserts of California and the forests of Virginia.
I
definitely got my money out of it (just under $100) and the
funny thing is they don’t even make any more of them.
Its replacement is the Lyra which Cosco has for about
$80. It has 128 MB (the Kazoo had 64 MB) internal
but the real advantage is that I can use the same 64 MB MMC
card I got for the Kazoo. So I’ll stick with
RCA.
But
it will have to fill some big shoes. I’ll be all like
making fun of it, calling it rookie, and tell it how it doesn’t
measure up to the Kazoo. It’ll get all bitter
about being compared to an older version and will try harder
to impress me but I’ll be relentless and tell it how
even though Kazoo was half the player he is, Kazoo
had double the heart. I’ll get a big “K”
tattooed on my chest and a picture of it painted on Truckasaurus
with the inscription “Rollin’ for da Big K!
Gone But Never Forgotten.”
The
end came too quick. I was getting ready for work this morning
and it wouldn’t turn on. I put in new batteries even
though I knew the ones in it were fresh. It just wouldn’t
turn on. I held out my arms to the side, looked up, and screamed
“Nooooooo!!!!!” which echoed through
the entire neighborhood and somewhere down the block, a couple
of birds took flight and then there was silence save for my
inconsolable cries.
I
took the opportunity to see what it was made of and after
taking out 4 screws, I had it apart. I don’t know what
I expected but it was just two little circuit cards with a
bunch of little components. I put it back together (surprised
I could actually do it) and for a minute thought that maybe
that would fix it. I put the batteries back into it and it
just wouldn’t respond. I took out the batteries, reinserted
them and tried again. After doing this a few more times, my
wife came over and gently placed her hand over my fumbling
hands and whispered “He’s gone. Let him go.
He led a good, long life and he’s in a better place
now.”
Through
blurring tears, I thought I saw a quick flash of the key icon
on the LED screen as though it was saying goodbye and then
I thought I saw a wisp of something rise from Kazoo
and I knew the end had come. What was once my Kazoo
was now an empty husk.
Its
burial was next and I retired it with full military honors.
.jpg)
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Never
set a drink down on a book." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
BLOG
entry for this day from 2003
Monday,
July 5, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“Make
explosion noises when anyone presses a button.” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
OK,
this has gone on far too long. I’m have hit maximum
laziness and I must get some structure back in my life.
I
know it’s getting bad when I’m waking up at 10:00
and still tired all day. Sad. Very sad. I should have planned
and did something this weekend (you’re just now realizing
that?)
In
desperation for something to do, my wife and I went to Circuit
City to get some RAM for my daughter’s computer. It
was limping along with 64 MB and nothing much would run on
it. Hey, give it a break; I got it for free from my mom. It’s
a 700 MHz system that came with Windows ME (pause for violent
lurch) and both video and audio were on the motherboard. I
upgraded it to Windows 2000 but for the all-important Toon
Town, I needed more RAM and a video card.
I
spent more than a few minutes trying to figure out exactly
what I was dealing with. I opened it up to try to get a part
# from the motherboard so I could see how much RAM it could
handle. After Googling a bunch of suspected numbers, I came
up with nothing. So I started looking through the documentation
to see what I had. But I ran into the annoying concept of
providing the same documentation for multiple versions of
computer to save money. I finally figured out what I had and
went to the HP site where I found out I could jack up the
system up to 512 MB of RAM. OK, now we’re getting somewhere.
I
did some searching around the web for the kind of memory I
needed. I was ignorant that “PC100” was a very
common type of memory but assumed that is what I needed. I
will point out here that no matter how smart you think you
are about computers, there will always be these little, simple,
“widely-known” facts about them you will have
no clue about. In other words, there will be some of you saying
“He calls himself a computer geek and has an IT
masters but didn’t know about PC100 memory?”
To
you I respond with a very dignified “Kiss my ass.”
I
looked at a few places thinking I could get a deal on the
web. It all hovered about $80 for a 256 MB stick but if it
was a lot lower than that, I didn’t feel like I could
trust it. So I gave up and decided to see what I could get
in person at Circuit City. It occurs to me that it’s
now worth it for me to spend a little extra $$ and get what
I know is good right now than to save 5% after hours of research
and then ordering where you have to wait and wonder if your
underwear will soon be missing.
It
wasn’t a hard call at Circuit City. They had what I
needed for $80 but that was after a $45 mail in rebate. I
absolutely hate mail in rebates. Almost as much as I hate
Windows ME and reality shows. But suffice it to say I hate
mail in rebates with enough intensity to melt diamonds encased
in dragon scales.
I
also looked at video cards but the cheapest one was $80 and
the guy gave me a website where I could find a less high-profile
one. I didn’t need the latest and greatest; just something
to run Toon Town. Again, that’s the metric.
When
we got home, I put in the RAM (with just a bit more than a
little trouble since I had as much room as 10 people in a
sipper cup to work with) and fired it up. It worked great
but didn’t quite reach the goal. Toon Town told me that
the video was woefully inadequate. Oh well, for $80, my daughter
can now play solitaire REALLY fast.
I
need to get back to work tomorrow. This house-slothing is
really getting to me.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Don't
buy cheap picture frames." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
Sunday,
July 4, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“Carry
a blanket and clutch it protectively.” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
Another
lazy day and lazier than yesterday, if that's possible. I
gotta get back to work or I’m going to melt into my
furniture.
I
spent some time finishing up the Gunny
Popaditch story and posted it on the site. But for the
rest of the day, I basically went from furniture piece to
furniture piece reading my Harry Potter book and
wondering why I was so listless.
One
other thing I did accomplish was to watch Blade.
I saw that Blade 3 was coming out and since I had
never really watched any of the first two, I rented them.
But I made the mistake of letting my son watch it with me.
In hindsight, maybe letting a 12-year-old watch a rated R
movie might not get me into the Dad Hall of Fame. Just a bit
too much blood, violence, cursing, and sexually suggestive
scenes. OK, all of them. Oops.
The
movie wasn’t all that good but it was watchable. Maybe
the second one will be better. Hell, they made a third but
that doesn’t mean that the first two were block busters.
I
decided it wasn’t worth fighting the traffic and humanity
to go see a live 4th of July show. The two choices we had
was on the base and downtown D.C. Both would have involved
a lot of patience, none of which I had any of so we bagged
it. We saw a big show last night and let ours off too. We
settled for watching it on TV. I know, I'm a wet blanket.
Barry
Bosworth was hosting it. As hokey as that was, it got worse
when one of the Gibb brothers was brought out to sing some
“hits.” As you may know, one of them died recently
and the lead singer, Barry, was not the guest. It was the
other one (obviously since dragging out a dead guy would have
been a tad morbid.)
He
sang a couple of huge Bee Gee hits but the problem was, he
was only the back up singer. So it was kinda like hearing
the song but mostly, ... not. He had a couple of back up singers
to sing the parts normally reserved for him ad he sang his
brother’s part. It just didn’t work and overall,
it was just sad.
This
extended time off thing just isn’t all it cracked up
to be. When I’m working all I want is more time off
and now that I got it, I discover I need structure in my day
or I start molding.
Oh,
and only one person noticed that there was something wrong
with the sign I posted
the other day. Can you pick it out? I didn't until someone
emailed me and boy did I feel dumb.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Remember
that your character is your destiny." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
BLOG
entry for this day from 2003
Saturday,
July 3, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“Announce
in a demonic voice: 'I must find a more suitable host
body.'” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
I
think the Latin term is “Butticut Sitticus.”
Yes, folks, we did nothing much more than sit around all day
and do a whole lot of nothing.
At
some point in my massive laziness, I took the kids out for
the only excursion of the day in order to buy some fireworks.
We are going to a big show tomorrow so we thought we could
get the kids some fireworks and they could launch them tonight.
The kids agreed wholeheartedly, of course.
When
I was a kid, I would spend the summer in Seattle with my dad
and despite him not having a lot of money, his childish nature
assured that we would spend an exorbitant amount of money
on fireworks. Add to that the fact that there were Indian
reservations that sold all kinds of illegal goodies and we
had the making of getting our hands half blown off every year.
Dad
would slide each one of us $50 and we could get whatever we
wanted. Looking back, I have no idea how he afforded $100
worth of fireworks but he did.
Here
is where the difference between my brother and me comes in.
I would spend hours pouring over everything they had to offer
and normally buy great quantities of small firecrackers. My
brother, on the other hand, would gather as many of the big
offerings as $50 would get him and be done within minutes.
We had the same routine in the candy aisle.
This
would occur weeks before the 4th of July so while Dad was
at work, we would spend the day blowing up various items:
aluminum cans, ant hills, our hands. You know, the normal
stuff. Inevitably we would get a quick fuse or try to light
one whose fuse was snuffed out right before going down into
the body of the black cat (the name, not an actual cat. We
only tortured tabbys. Just kidding, lighten up, geez.)
When
the 4th came, we had about 1/3 of the fireworks left but the
best part was yet to come. We played a game every year of
“Catch the Bottle Rocket Stick.” I know
it sounds crazy but every year we (my dad, my brother, and
me) would line up in the back yard or down by the river, and
light off pop bottle rockets. As they rose and exploded, we
searched intently to spy the stick falling back to earth and
the goal was to catch it before it hit the ground. Sometimes
it was easier than other times if some of the packaging stuck
to the red stick and the whole thing came down like a whirley-bird.
But sometimes it would come down at Mach 5, cutting through
the air like a dart heading straight down.
We
would risk twisted ankles and concussions while we jostled
for position. It was a great time and the score normally didn’t
get out of the single digits for any one person.
Back
to the present, I wasn’t about to give my kids $50 each.
I would have, probably, but I knew Carrie would have a kinipshun
so I gave them each $20 as we headed out the door.
My
plan was not all that complicated. Find the nearest fireworks
stand and because it was in a city area, I knew we were destined
to go with the “Safe and Sane” category;
neither of which sounded all that fun.
When
we got to the tent, I told the kids they can either buy stuff
individually, in a box set, or combine their money to get
a bigger box. It didn’t take they long to decide to
go in together and get a box. But of course they wanted the
sparklers so I checked my wallet only to find I had all of
$2. But when I noticed that they took Visa, I knew it was
time to be a hero.
They
picked the $40 box and I made sure this is what they wanted.
I then took them over to the $25 box and told them they could
each get one of those instead if they wanted. Instantly, the
comparison began. They were in the midst of deciding this
when Stephanie took me over to the sparklers and told me she
couldn’t decide between the really long ones and the
short ones. I grabbed some of both and said I’d buy
them.
After
much internal and external debate, they decided to stick with
the $40 single box and I asked them if there were anything
else they were really hoping for. There was a box of these
strobe things they liked so I bought a couple of boxes.
The
total came to just over $50 and for that I got a couple of
ecstatic kids who thought that going over by $10 was the biggest
coup in the history of the Universe.
The
one thing I wasn’t going to buy was the $500 box that
was about 8 feet tall. It had so much stuff, it would take
us a week to cook all the stuff off. I asked the kid working
there how many they had sold and he grinned when he said that
was the only one they had and they get a bonus if they sell
it. He said I could really help him out but to this I simply
said “yeah, right.”
But
for a second, I thought about it. Yes, I’d be dead at
home but I’d be a hero for the rest of my life in the
kids’ eyes. It was tempting…
When
we got home, we decided to invite the Patches over to see
the fireworks. They had planned to go to a church show tonight
by us but when we invited them over to our house, they decided
to come. The funny thing was we could see the big fireworks
right from our deck so everyone got the best of both worlds.
We
let the kids light all the fireworks after putting down an
oil leak drip pan in the backyard and watering down the area
around the “launch pad.” Some were good, some
were not so good but $50 bought me about an hour of the kids
having the time of their lives. It was worth it just to witness
their excitement.
Then
there was Buster. The stupid animal is scared silly of water
but light a shower of fireworks and he’ll race right
up to, oblivious to the fact that he WILL singe his dumb dog
face in the process. Didn’t seem to phase him. I swear
he’s catastrophically retarded.
We
had to lock him up and when it was over, he kept barking ferociously
at the popping going off in the neighborhood. Daisy, the Patch
canine, has the opposite reaction, cowering in the bathtub.
But she loves water. Dogs (shaking head confusedly)..
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Never
be too busy to meet someone new." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
Friday,
July 2, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“Pull
your gum out of your mouth in long strings.” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
OK,
time to do a little catch up. Nothing much happened today
except taking the kids to see Spiderman 2 so it’s
a good time to get to some other things.
Behold
the hodgepodge:
Spiderman
was long and comic bookish. Go figure. Kirsten
Durst looked frumpy throughout (hopefully on purpose)
and Toby McGuire only looked cool when he was getting his
web on. The octopus character
was very un-movie star-like (fat and not handsome like you’d
expect a star to be). Other than that, the FX were pretty
good but it dragged in places and smacked of obvious moral
lessons. OK, maybe I was in a bad move or maybe it’s
just that I was never a big Spidey fan. But with lines from
Mary Jane (the name bugged me) like “Go get ‘em
tiger,” I was a little disappointed. That line
is ruined forever after King Pin.
Weird
things seem to always happen to me, both good and bad. Here
is one good one that I will simply describe through email
correspondence.
Here
is an email Buster got from a fan:
Hey
Dude,
This
is Monk. I'll send you a photo of me...I currently live
in Kentucky with Amy's folks...I'm moving to Texas in a
month....
Later
dude,
Monk
Here
is what Buster wrote back:
Monk,
I
see your humans like to strip away what little dignity you
possess just like mine. We won’t mention the pumpkin
outfit my first Halloween.
I've
never been to Texas but I hear dog butts are particularly
savory there. Let me know.
I
need to go drag my butt along the carpet as I use my front
paws for traction. Thanks for the photo. I barked at it
for a 1/2 hour.
Buster
Here is the sign we bought yesterday at Kings Dominion and
it only cost me one of my kidneys.
Here
is a caricature my daughter had to have before we left.
And
here is my aspiring artist/daughter rendition later that night.
The
mail brought me the latest book my work has been published
in. It’s called The Older We Get, The Better We
Were by MSGT Andrew Bufalo, USMC (Ret.). The three stories
of mine that are in there are:
Sergeant
Maxey
Are
You There, Sergeant Major?
Captain
Stromberg
I
reread them last night and as a true testament to my opinion
of these stories, I actually enjoyed reading them and was
impressed I had actually penned them. That’s unusual
since I’m my own worst critic.
The
first book he published was called Swift, Silent, and
Surrounded. My stories in that one are:
The
Ride Over
Scuds
and Suds
Lance
Corporal Scott
They
both can be purchased from http://www.usmcstories.com/usmc_stories_002.htm.
Oh
yeah, and Marlon Brando died today. No big effect on me but
it's a sign of the times.
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Evaluate
yourself by your own standards, not someone else's." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
Thursday,
July 1, 2004
Quote
of the Day: |
“Blow
spit bubbles.” |
| -
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
|
Kings
Dominion. With the kids. Under the agreement I would do anything
they wanted.
I
have seen stupidity and it is me.
Carrie,
my wife, does not like drops which takes her out of the running
for almost every amusement park ride ever devised. Due to
her aversion, I felt bad for the kids since their joy increases
exponentially when Mom or Dad join in such life-threatening
rides. Combine that with my guilt for canceling the Atlanta
trip and you have the predicament I had today.
I
thought I was not all that frightened of these rides. But
I’m not all that thrilled about them either. I was never
a roller coaster lover so when we arrived at KD yesterday,
I had an early butt-puckering moment when I saw the insanity.
The one that caused the involuntary contraction was called,
and I’m not making this up, the “HyperSonic
XLC.” My guess of what the “XLC” stood
for was “eXtreme Lamenting and Crying.”
This
roller coaster, if you can call it that, started by accelerating
from a standstill to a face-altering 80 MPH in 1.8 seconds,
shooting the riders about 100 feet before turning straight
up 165 ft. It’s literally the steepest roller coater
in the world (90 degrees up). My comment upon witnessing it
was “What the #@$# is wrong with these people!?”
I
never actually found the stones to accomplish this one. “Maybe
next time” was my answer, convincing my fence-sitting
daughter that we had to save something for next time.
So
I avoided that and we looked around the park for awhile. It’s
a Paramount theme park so it had some cool movie props. They
had the Forrest Gump bench right in the open where anyone
could sit on it. We didn’t have our camera because we
left it in the car until we hit the water area so alas, I'm
pictureless in regard to this. Crazy, I know. They also had
the Indiana Jones prop (little gold head he was trying to
grab at the beginning). I love this stuff so it was neat to
see.
The
kids were intent on hitting the nearly dozen roller coasters
and I wish I could detail them all here but they all blurred
together in one horrifying collage of terror. I kept most
of my promise to go on any and all rides but that doesn’t
mean I had to quell my deep-seated fright. I’m not kidding
when I tell you what these things were called:
- Ricochet
- HyperSonic
XLC
- Rebel
Yell
- Triple
Spin
- Shockwave
- Hurler
- Launch
Pad
The
Hurler should have been the Rattler. It
was an old wooden contraption that vibrated side to side so
violently that I think my DNA was scrambled.
On
one of them, they took a picture right as you were dropping
an insane distance and I wish I had bought the picture. I
had my mouth wide open in a primordial scream that made me
look skull-like. Yeah, loads of fun.
The
Shockwave dropped suddenly and then fed right into
a loop the loop. Amazingly, I enjoyed the loop. The dip, not
so much.
After
a half dozen fate-tempting adventures, we decided to go over
to the water park. The kids love the wave pool and it was
a chance to kick back and let the day’s activities sink
in as I suffered Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
The
food thing was going OK. It was both easy and difficult for
the following reasons. Difficult because there were fries,
burgers, chips, cotton candy, and various other forbidden
delicacies everywhere. Easy because of some of the behemoths
I witnessed wallowing around in bathing suits. I saw things
that should never be seen. The protein shakes and bars were
easy to eat after that.
Once
we had hit most of the amusement rides, it was the kids’
turn to expose me to water park horrors. We started off easy
with Shoot the Curl. OK, not bad but you could feel
the seams and I felt my back rake over the imperfections.
It
was a bit dicier with Baja Bends which twisted around
in the dark for about 10 seconds. I moaned all the way down.
The
Wave Swinger were tubes that intertwined but weren’t
too bad. The lines were the worst part.
But
the elephant at the tea party was hands down, Night
Slider - the world's tallest enclosed dark tube slide.
You climb up this huge tower, questioning your sanity, and
wait at the top for your turn in the guillotine. The first
time, we took the purple slide which was the other offering
on the platform. I hadn’t the onions yet to go into
the blackness so Alex and I chose the calmer of the two. But
I have to admit, the moment before committing to the ride
was a distressing if not nightmarish moment indeed. Once again,
I moaned all the way down.
When
we got done with that, it was time to pay the piper. We set
out to climb the stairs of fear once again and when we made
it to the top, Alex was chattering up a storm, earning his
nickname: Sir Talk-A-Lot. I was injecting assurance and outright
lies to calm the both of us. He was nervous but God bless
him he was up there and fighting his internal battles against
petrifying fear. I told him bravery is not the absence of
fear but the ability to control it. I told him it was OK to
be scared, even normal, but the important part was how he
reacted to it. At this point, he was hanging on every word
and it was a golden opportunity to teach him a valuable lesson.
I
had to go first. When it came my turn, I took a look down
and for a heart-stopping moment, I really didn’t want
to go down that tube. But the boy was watching as was a couple
of dozen others so I had little choice. I gave the boy the
thumbs up and took a deep breath as I pulled my body forward.
I
missed it. It all went by so quickly and my mind must have
shut off because the next thing I was conscious of was splashing
through the water at the bottom. I was disappointed because
I felt like I really missed the experience. But I gave the
thumbs up to the boy and my heart swelled with pride as I
watched him fling himself into the tube. Two seconds later
he emerged and he was all smiles, guaranteeing me that it
wasn't scary at all. I’ll take your word for it, Boy.
He
wanted to go again but this time, get his sister. We went
back over to the wave pool where the girls were and he never
stopped describing what it was like and how he felt to overcome
his fear (he's terrified of heights and the dark).
Somehow
he convinced Stephanie to go and we all went up again. This
time I was determined to actually experience the thrill. Alex
went first without hesitation. Stephanie was scared but since
I had done it and Alex had too, she wasn’t going to
chicken out. She’s one of the most fearless little girls
I’ve ever met and that’s why it broke my heart
to witness the internal struggle with fear she raged while
waiting her turn.
When
it came her turn, she stepped up and did it without hesitation.
Amazing and better than I had done the first time.
Now
it was my turn and I had a calm about me. I launched myself
into the tube and down I went, 77 feet straight down. I would
be lying if it didn’t still produce a pucker factor
but at least I got to feel it this time. Why humans do this
I don’t know but I accomplished it. Check in the box.
Thank you, I’m done.
We
went back to the water park to explain to Carrie what we all
did and the kids were a steady stream of excitement about
the whole thing. I was so proud of them.
But
there was still more to accomplish and I wanted to do the
HyperSonic XLC, the Drop Zone, and a couple
of others I was scared silly of. We decided the Drop Zone
was the nearest so off we went.
Only
one time before have I ridden one of these kinds of rides.
And it scared the bejesus out of me so what possessed me to
do it again is still a mystery.
The
Drop Zone is a 332 foot tower
ride. You are suspended
in a seat around the pole with your feet dangling as it
rises to the top. Once there, it drops you and hopefully stops
you before gravity snuffs you out.
The
kids and I got into it (Carrie would sooner crap out a
Volkswagen than voluntarily ride on this) and I hoped my reaction
would be better than the last time I rode a similar ride years
ago. Stephanie wanted to go on it because she was not allowed
at Disneyland when she came up less than an inch too short
and the jerk attendant wouldn’t budge.
Alex
was scared. Like I mentioned, heights are not his bag and
this played centrally to those fears.
We
were latched in and as we ascended, the familiar
fears came flooding back. At first, it’s OK. But
as we rose, it seemed we were pushed more forward and more
precariously on the edge. I know this was an illusion but
that didn’t stop the terror rising up in my stomach.
The
boy felt it too. About halfway up, he exclaimed “Oh
my God, are we really going to drop from this high?”
What the hell am I supposed to say to that especially since
I knew it’s about to get more scarier?
“It’s
alright, Boy.”
I
was talking more to myself at this point. Screw the boy, I
was battling my own terror. (just kidding). (Kind of ).
We
got to the top and my fight or flight reaction was in full
effect. If I could have ran, I would have. I was scared. I
mean "spaz-out" scared. I moaned.
The
wait seemed like it was days and I was negotiating with myself
not to yell and to handle the situation. Let’s get this
show on the ….
Pure,
undiluted, shocking terror. I was falling. The air was pushing
up my eyelids despite me trying to squeeze them tight. I could
not yell for that would require some semblance of control
of my faculties. I was simply frozen with raw fright.
My
legs shot out straight and resembled steel rods the entire
way down. Two things floated back into reality for me as we
got to the bottom. First, Alex’s voice says “That
wasn’t scary” even before we stopped. I almost
laughed at the timing of his statement, almost too quickly
which conveyed the opposite of what he was saying.
Next
was my wife laughing at me. She was sitting right in front
of where we were and caught my entire reaction. Glad I could
provide some comic relief as I beshat my pants.
That
was it; I was done. No more rides. No way, no how, no debate.
The
kids wanted to go again. Be my guest. They did and then it
was old hat. Kids are weird. They also went on two more rides
by themselves as I stayed true to my statement that I was
done as done gets.
We
called it a day after that and went home tired and happy.
It was a good day with a lot of thrills involved. I’ve
read where the chemical reactions that go on inside your body
as a result of thrill rides are the same as sexual desire
and intimate emotion. Therefore it’s a good idea to
take a date to an amusement park because the fear elicits
the same emotions as desire.
But
maybe I’m wired different or my new DNA make up prevented
normalcy because I was in no mood to do anything but sleep
deeply when I got home. A shower, some food, and thankful
thoughts about being alive after tempting fate were the main
ingredients to the rest of the night.
(Here
is my putzy Blog from almost exactly a year ago when I went
to a wter park with my kids in California.)
Free
Advice for Today: |
| “Read
between the lines." |
|
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. |
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entry for this day from 2003
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