Partly out of a little paranoia, partly out of fear that I would some how jinx this. Here goes:

I’m taking a vacation day Monday, so that I can interview for a new job. I am very excited about this position. It is exactly the kind of thing I have been looking for. Why would you be paranoid about that, you might ask. Well since I am the only tech where I work, they will be in a tight spot, when I leave. If they thought I was going to leave, my boss would be looking for a replacement. The problem comes if he finds a replacement he likes before I get a new job. This blog is very anonymous, but just ask Mango about the relative nature of anonymity. My boss is already wondering, I mean who takes a Monday off the week before the Super Bowl.

Anyway, I scheduled the interview Tuesday morning, and I’ve been wound up for it ever since. (They called me at work! Why would you call someone at work to schedule an interview?) Maybe that’s why my posts have been so long this week.

I don’t ask my readers for much, I usually just want them to not fall asleep while reading my posts. But I’m gonna ask now for a little favor. If you could, around 1:00 pm EST on Monday, just think a little good luck thought for me. Thanks.

Quotes:

He already has other weapons of mass destruction. But a nuclear weapon, two or three our four years from now — I don’t care where it is, when it is — to have that happen in a volatile region like the Middle East is most certainly a future that we cannot tolerate. — Dr. Condoleeza Rice, 13 Nov 2002

I have to say that I have never, ever, lost respect for the truth in the service of anything —Dr. Condoleeza Rice, 18 Jan 2005

Dr. Rice, there were no WMD, and there was no nuclear capability. And now look at the fine mess where in. Now that you are the Secretary of State, you’ve got you’re work cut out for you. Good Luck.

Headlines:

37 Troops Die on Deadliest Day in Iraq

Bush Asks Patience From U.S. on Iraq War

U.S. military too eager to help Iraqis vote

Bush urges Iraqis to defy rebels

Election Tensions in Kirkuk Could Spread

Top U.S. Commander: Iraq Forces Not Ready

U.S. Hostage Pleads as Iraq’s Wounds Deepen

Added war costs push deficit forecast over $400 billion

PS: For information about Alberto Gonzales and his position on torture go here

The Shitty Blogs Club page has moved. You can find it here.

Apparently a-[e] has grown weary of all that shit and he has turned over the reigns to a new Shitmaster. I hear he is a real loser. If you are member you should update your links. If you want to be a member go check it out.

The other day I was out running errands and I saw something that was odd. It was a lady picking up her dry cleaning in her Pajamas. I see stuff like this all the time. Why would you leave your house without getting dressed? At the risk of sounding stuffy, I have to say this is nuts. If you are going to leave your house, then get dressed. Have some self-respect. People will see you, why wouldn’t you want them to see you looking your best.

This has crept in the workplace. Where I work we have a casual dress code. This means Docker style pants and a decent shirt, in theory. Of course, we are manufacturing plant so many of the office staff have to go on the shop floor. So they were jeans. And T-shirts are permitted if they have the company logo on them. The result is a lot of office employees dressed in blues jeans and t-shirts, even those that couldn’t get to the shop floor with a map. So what, you might ask. On the surface, it doesn’t seem to matter. As long as we are all working, why shouldn’t we be comfortable, right? Wrong. Work isn’t about comfort, it’s about work. Casual dress, leads to casual attitude. People at my job (and yours too, I bet) are very comfortable. They feel comfortable criticizing this and that they don’t like. They hold conversations across several cubes. Just yell out what ever you feel like. All these things by themselves are not big, but when you put them all together you have a relaxed environment (read: chaotic)that isn’t conducive to working effectively.

I see it when I go out to eat. The servers, for some reason they are no longing waiting only serving, more often than not are in jeans and a t-shirt. And they are very casual with the customers. It makes me cringe every time a server tells me that my order make take a while because they are understaffed. Why would you tell me that? Just smile, tell me my food will be out when it’s ready. If it’s a nice place, I’ll likely be content to sit and converse with whomever I’m out with. But when you plant the idea in my head that there is a problem, I can’t help but start looking at this problem myself. When I go to a retail store, the clerks (well dressed in jeans and a t-shirt) won’t even stop the conversation that they having to help me. I find it very disturbing to be standing there while the two young ladies talk about their escapades from the night before. Wow, you drank too much and then found yourself in Jimmy’s bed? Gee, didn’t want to know that. Now could you explain to me what the difference between these two items is. You can’t? What exactly are they paying you to do?

I know I sound like a stodgy old man when I say this stuff. When I was younger folks would wear a Hat and a Jacket to go to the Baseball game. And there was real customer service. And kids wore belt and kept their pants pulled up, too! But I think that these are syptoms of a big problem in this country. Lowered expectations. You can’t expect a teenager to know anything about the product he is “selling.” We’ll just have her ring it up. The consumer will have to do their own research. We can’t expect peple to dress nice for work, isn’t enough that show up. We can’t even expect people to get dressed in the morning to run their errands, they’ll just be coming right back home when their done.

Once again, you ma be asking, so what? By continually lowering outr expectation, we continually get an inferior product, result, experince, whatever. Is it any wonder that this nation of lowered expecations has a president who can’t be bother to speak correctly. Who doesn’t do his homework before invading a nation. Who can’t take responsibility for his mistakes. Who refuses to learn from the mistakes of the past. A man who only wants to represent those who agree with him and his way a life. You can’t expect him to do all that, jeez isn’t enough that he stands for freedom and liberty, makes bold decisons, and keeps us safe from terrorists? I think its time to raise our expectations.

It wasn’t actually called the Elvis Bar, that’s just what we called it. Bonnie’s Bar and Grill was in the heart of Highlandtown, a working class neighborhood in East Baltimore. My buddy Vic insisted that we to go to this Elvis Bar. We were only 18, freshmen in college, and in a lot of ways very wide-eyed, always looking for an adventure. This was the adventure Vic wanted us to go on. He had an older brother named Raf (short for Rafael, I assume) and Vic worshipped him. Raf was a reporter for the Baltimore paper and I guess he had done a write up on this little place, and now Vic was crazy for it. I told him that Elvis music wasn’t really my thing. He said it didn’t matter. We had to go. He wore me down, it didn’t take much. We were going to Elvis Bar.

We got lost in Highlandtown on the way. We finally found it, from the outside it was not impressive, just another corner bar in Baltimore. No sign of Elvis at all, no blinking lights, no neon, just a sign that said Bonnie’s. Vic said, Lets go, and we walked through the door. That marked the first time I ever walked in to a locals bar in Baltimore (but not that last.) It’s an experience everyone should have. All the those blue collar workers turned and looked at us. They weren’t used to people they didn’t know walking through that door. They were still looking at us, it seemed to me that they wanted some explanation for our intrusion. I was terrified. Obviously we didn’t belong here, it was just a matter of time before it got ugly. Just about the time I was ready to bolt (we’d been standing there for 4 or 5 whole seconds) the little old behind the bar shouted out, “Victor!” She shuffled out from behind the bar and gave Vic a kiss on the cheek. The locals saw that Bonnie knew us, at least one of us, and went back to their drinks. With disaster averted I took in my surroundings. It was amazing, every inch of this place was covered with Elvis. Young Elvis, Fat Elvis, but mostly Young Elvis. THe King of Rock and Roll lived on in Highlandtown. Newspaper clippings, photos, and of course, several velvet wall hangings all of the King of Rock and Roll. An old-style phonograph was playing Hound Dog on a 78. (Note to readers born after 1980: A phonograph is like a CD Player but bulkier and with less Quality. A 78 (rpm) is like a CD Single but with more popping and crackling.)

It was somehow perfect. Maybe it was the way Bonnie’s eyes clouded up when she talked about her trip to Graceland, or the way the regulars attended to the record player. It all felt very authentic. It didn’t hurt that Bonnie would serve us beer if there weren’t too many people around. Miss Bonnie was a gem. She slurred her words when she talked, this was partly from a stroke she had suffered, partly from the fact that she was never without a drink. And when she talked about Elvis Presley there was a real and honest reverence to her words. It was a magic place, we would get swallowed up in the atmosphere. We went back several times, and somehow I always felt right at home. Bonnie couldn’t ever remember my name, but after a while I think she did that just to get a rise out of me.

During my sophomore year, Miss Bonnie passed away. She had no family, no one to take ove the business or her incredible collection of Elvis Presley memorabilia. A local columnist tried to drum up interest in having someone buy the bar and keep it in tact. It never happened. The bar was sold, its decorations auctioned off. Now it is just another corner bar like any other corner bar in Baltimore. But I’ll always remember the Elvis Bar fondly. It could have been a freak show, gaudy, and overdone, but it wasn’t. It was a labor of love, Bonnie’s love for Elvis Presley and her love for her bar were woven together in that one little space. I am grateful to have experienced it.

The NFL has reduced itself to 4 teams. By the end of the day we will know who is going to the Super Bowl. My Bold Prediction: Patriots vs. … well, that’s thing. I don’t know who to pick for the NFC. AFC, no problem. The Steelers host the Patriots. The two best teams in football, duke it out. The advantage goes to the Pats for three simple reasons. First, Tom Brady is a veteran quarterback who has stepped up in the playoffs for this team time and again. Second, Corey Dillon. Dillon provides the pats with balance on offense. He helps them set their tempo, and will keep the Pittsburgh defense honest. Third, Bill Belichick. No one game plans as well as Belichick. He has seen this Steelers team before, at their best. He is 13-0 against teams in the second match up against a QB. It will be a competitive game, but the Pats should win.

Across the Keystone state we have the other match up. The Eagles have a more balanced offense, a better defense, experienced coaching with Andy Reid, and home field advantage. They should be easy pick. But… they have been here before. The last three years they have been here and lost. Last year, they were clearly the better team but they were dominated by Carolina. Add to that, nasty cold weather that will minimize the passing game and of course that walking breathing X-factor we call Michael Vick. The Eagles should win this game, but I don’ think they will. I’m going on record for Atlanta.

Closer to home, the Ravens have revamped their Coaching staff, Jim Fassel is now Offensive Coordinator and Rex Ryan is the Defensive Coordinator. I think we have a big upgrade in coaching as a result. But is it enough? Probably not. We still need a big play receiver. And we are probably not going to get one. The free agent market is thin. Our best option is possibly to trade up in the draft and take Mike Williams. There is another option. One that would have been blasphemy here in Charm City just a year ago. I propose we trade Ray Lewis for Randy Moss.

I can here the nay-sayers now. Ray Lewis is the Heart and soul of that team. Randy Moss is a cancer with off field problems. True enough. But I contend that Ray’s leadership, is as much a hurt as a help. He means well, I have no doubt. But last season the defense didn’t play as cohesively as they have. And the offense is still treated like a support cast. We have more talent on Defense than you shake a stick at. Ray only has so many good years in him and it’s not like he’s going to take a pay cut. He would make an immediate impact on the Vikings D. He would raise the level of play of the other players. Its time for Baltimore to hand the torch to the next generation: Ed Reed. And let Ray go.

Moss on the other hand would give our Offense immediate Credibility. Defenses would have to plan for him, this would only improve the play of Todd Heap and Jamal Lewis. As far Randy’s dedication, he had some of his best years when Brian Billick was his OC. Billick is a master of motivation. If anyone is going to get a full effort out of Randy, it’s Billick. Maybe he is a cancer in Minnesota, but look at Corey Dillon. He was a malcontent in Cincinnati, but in New England he is a Team Player. Some times a change of address is just what is needed. Off field Issues? I hate to say it, but we’re used to those here in the Free State.

Call me Crazy but I think it’s a win-win for both teams and I would love to see it. If you’re a football fan let me know what you think.

Once upon a time, WHFS was the Mecca for Alternative Rock. They played all kinds of Indy stuff you just couldn’t hear anywhere else. Eventually, in the mid 90’s, they were bought by Infinity Broadcasting, and adopted a more mainstream rotation of music, and the quality of the programming dropped gradually from that point. The HFS tradition of alternative rock finally died completely, earlier this month. They switched formats completely. 99.1 on my FM dial (hah… when’s the last time you saw a radio with a dial) now plays Spanish language pop music. I’m not upset about this, I stopped listening not too long after Infinity started pushing their corporate agenda on the music of HFS. The day I heard Metallica on there some time in ‘97 was the last time I tuned in. I actually like Metallica, but they do not belong on an “alternative rock” station. If you are curious a history of the station can be found here.

The biggest thing that HFS did was to, starting in 1993, organize the annual HFStival. This Festival featured a Who’s Who of modern rock over the years: 311, Fuel, Bush, Filter, Everclear, Soul Asylum, The Ramones, Juliana Hatfield, Better than Ezra, Linkin Park, Good Charlotte and Green Day to name a few. Of course, I never went to the HFStival. I couldn’t bring myself to part with 50 or more dollars to be squished, pushed and shoved in 90 degree whether by a bunch of drunk kids. What can I say, I’m a geek.

In 1995, I think, HFS organized a free concert, they called it the HF-Icicle. It took place in late October at the Nissan Pavilion in Northern Virginia. There were a number of bands scheduled to play, with Blues Traveler headlining. A couple friends of mine and I went to go check it out. I mean it was free, what did we have to lose. The temperature dropped like twenty degrees after sunset and we were cold. There is a good reason why they don’t usually have outdoor concerts in October. I couldn’t tell you anything about the other bands, I guess it wasn’t anyone of note. We were there to see Blues Traveler. The other bands got done. The sound check guys came out and did their thing. But no Blues Traveler. After a long and cold wait the band finally got on stage. John Popper waddled up to the mic, all 300 plus pounds of him. He said, “Sorry we didn’t get out here sooner, but I had to take a shit!”

That ruined it for me. They gave a great performance, but I couldn’t look at him without picturing his obese mass burying a toilet. That’s really the only thing from that concert that left an impression on me. A burning hideous painful impression. Yet another case of getting what you pay for. When I’m in the mood for the music I used to listen to on HFS, I just turn on the old XM Radio and Listen to Fred or Ethel.

The interesting thing about blogging is if you ask 10 people what it is all about, you’ll get 10 different answers. When I started doing this I figured that I would spout off about my ideas, and if I did a decent job of it, maybe some people would read it. But once I started actually doing this, I realized that it wasn’t how I imaged it would be. First of all, I’d never written much before this. I quickly realized it is very hard to take those thoughts that are rumbling around in my head and make them resemble something you can read. I also underestimated how hard it would be to find something to write about everyday. At first I had no traffic, which was weird. I’ve found a number of different gimmicks to put my blog in front of people, but they don’t really work. A lot of people load the page, but few actually read. The best way to get people to read your blog is to read their blog.

I did not realize how interactive this whole thing is. I know, I’m a little slow like that. It still surprises how much of an effect the comments have on me. I’m not really hung up on them. Which is a good thing because the things I choose to write about seem to bore most people to tears. But I have a few regular readers (and yes you too mom.) That makes me happy. But the interaction doesn’t stop there. Other bloggers can write about me or reference my blog. That can be flattering, unless of course they are writing about what an idiot I am. Some people seem to react very seriously to this. That’s their right. I don’t get too excited. I just remind myself what it is that I can control. I control this blog. Not yours. Or yours. Write what you want.

People seem to blog for various reasons. Some talk about their kids, some talk about their politics, some examine their thoughts, some just like to tell outrageous stories. I don’t even know what “kind” of blogger I am. The Jeckles Geek kind I suppose. I don’t think that there is actually a point to this, I just felt like I should define this blogging thing. I guess I’m sick of reading articles about the “blogging movement” that make us sound like we are all amateur journalists or political hacks. I will say this to all of you bloggers out there. Blogging is hard work, harder than I thought it would be by far. And because of that I have to respect all the blogs out there, even the mommy blogs and all of those blogs that insist on worshipping that buffoon we re-elected. I respect them because I know they are working hard at this too. I won’t read them, I might even make fun of them, but I respect the efforts.

All this cold weather we’ve been having (at least by Mid-Atlantic standards) has got me thinking about cold weather camping. There is nothing like it. Last year we went on the coldest camping trip I’ve ever been on. Yes that’s right. I’m about to bore you with another backpacking story. If you don’t like it, go read a mommy blog.

My father, my brother, his dog and I decided it would be fun to go backpacking in February. OK, the dog didn’t get much say in the matter, but that’s what you get for being a dog. We decided we would hike to a cabin. That way when we got there, we could build a fire and warm up nice and toasty. That was the plan at least. Of course, it snowed a couple of days before we were supposed to go. It only amounted to an inch or two, so we decided to go anyway. Good thing we brought the snowshoes. Oh wait … we didn’t bring snowshoes. And an inch or two where I live translates to a foot or so up in the hills.

So there was more snow than we had counted on. We decided it wouldn’t be that big of a hindrance, we were well equipped (except for those snowshoes.) We were wrong. The walking was extremely slow going. We walked for three hours. We couldn’t figure out where we were on the map. It showed a shelter after two miles. Surely we’d gone over two miles. It had been uphill to that point, but in three hours even going very slow, we should have been able to do 4 or 5 miles. We walked a little further and found that shelter. Over three hours to walk 2 miles! We still had five to go! For the first time on one of these trips, I was worried about be able to make it to our destination. If we couldn’t get there by sunset it would get cold, very cold. We pressed on, understanding that we had to walk faster.

I’ve talked before about trudging. We had walked less than halfway and I was already trudging. As a matter of fact it worse than that. The snow had compressed some, so that there was a “crust” on it. If you stepped lightly, you could stay on top of it. Most of the time. Every few steps my boot would sink through the crust and my shin would slam into the icy crust that was there. Then to add insult to injury my other foot, still in stride and expecting me to be walking not sinking, would kick me in the calf. Step. Step. Step. Crunch. Sink. Ouch. Kick. Ouch. Over and over it went like this. I began to count how many steps I could take with out sinking. My record was thirty. Crunch. Sink. Ouch. Kick. Ouch.

Eventually, we made it to the cabin. It was starting to get dark out and was very dark inside. We found a candle and lit it, but it did not provide much light. My brother and I set about building a fire in the large fireplace, while my dad tried to figure out the woodstove. The fire in the fireplace only provided a little warmth and we couldn’t figure out the woodstove. As soon we’d get it lit the whole place would smoke up and it would go out. After having to open the doors and windows a number of times to let the smoke (and what little warmth there was) out, we figured out that the pipe leading out from the stove to the chimney was closed. We had a good evening, we ate and talked and worked on keeping the fires going. After a while there was nothing to do but go bed. The upstairs was very cold, but that was no problem … my sleeping bag is rated to zero degrees, it wasn’t quite that cold.

We woke up to incredible cold. Even though some embers still smoldered in the fireplace, no trace of warmth remained. I mixed up some gatorade to get me jumpstarted. I stirred it up to a sip and looked out the window. It was bright and beautiful out there. A stream meandered through the snow in front of the cabin. The air had a crispness to it that announced the cold. I went to take another sip of my gatorade only to find that it has ice floating in it. It had begun to turn into a gatorade Slurpee. I now have a small thermometer on my backpack, because I’d like to know how cold or hot it might be on any given trip. I do not know how cold it was that day, but my guess is that it was below 10 degrees when we started.

The walk out wasn’t bad. Someone had cross-country skied on this part of the trail so it was much more packed down. And that made for better walking. I wasn’t cold while we walking, like I said I have pretty good gear. But when we’d stop for a break I could feel the cold creeping in. We walked for a while until we came to another shelter. Someone had spent the night there the previous night. I don’t think that they had a very good night either. They left behind 5 bottles of water. The bottles were useless to them, they were frozen solid. They had built a fire, a big one by the looks of it, but it hadn’t even melted the snow a few inches away. We felt pretty proud of ourselves for thinking of renting the cabin that night.

It was a fun trip, and I’d do it again, but next time … I’ll have snowshoes.

Oh … and by the way, there weren’t any weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. None. Nada. Zilch. We attacked a sovereign nation for no reason. We have brought more instability to the middle east. We have entangled ourselves in country with no way out. For what reason? People are dying. Americans, Iraqis, all kinds of people. Because it was that important to remove Saddam Hussein? So important that we could not even plan out an occupation strategy? Did Rumsfeld really believe we would be greeted as liberators?

We are trapped. If we stay, we will spend who knows how much money on this effort, and that’s the small price. The larger price tag will paid with lives of American Soldiers and Iraqi Civilians. If we leave, there will be chaos. Possibly a civil war. Shiites vs Sunnis vs Kurds. It would probably spill over the borders into Iran, Syria and Turkey. So we will stay. We will stay and prop up the government that we created for them. This is not the first time we’ve done this. We propped up Saigon for over a decade. I don’t have to tell you how that story ended.

I don’t have any good answers for this problem. But I’m mad as hell. Because this problem exists for no reason. I cannot understand why the Bush administration pushed this war on us. It’s not like we didn’t already have one. We have this whole War on Terror to deal with. Did they really think that they could just go in, depose Saddam and leave? Did they think they could distract us from the failure to capture Osama with this?

I’m a pacifist by nature. I don’t think that going to war is a desirable tactic. But sometimes it must happen. I wasn’t opposed to the War on Afghanistan. We could not sit back and allow Al Queda to operate freely in that country. They had attacked our country. We needed to defend ourselves. But a preemptive war, that’s a whole different thing. Even if Saddam had been stockpiling nukes, it is dicey business saying that you must attack another country because they might attack you. If that were a valid doctrine, then shouldn’t we attack North Korea? Iran? Syria? China? Where does it end?

Some would accuse me of dwelling on problems without offering solutions. That argument pisses me off too. I wouldn’t have attacked Iraq. I would have never taken the United States into a pre-emptive war. I would have never been so arrogant to assume that people of Iraq would be happy to have foreigners, invaders with machine guns roaming their streets. Yet I’m supposed to offer a solution. Try this one: Don’t go starting wars. That’s my solution. War is messy business. People die. Lives are ruined. Limbs are lost. Families shattered. I would not enter into that so lightly.

It’s too late for that. We are in. I don’t think we get out easily. We face a paradox right now. If we install a truly democratic government in Iraq, it will almost certainly be anti-American. That is the will of the people there. They don’t like us. I don’t blame them. If we manipulate the system so that the Iraqi government is friendly to us, then it will fall. Unless of course we prop it up. Like I said, we are going to be there for a while. And I’m gonna be mad about it the whole time.

Winter has finally arrived in the Mid-Atlantic this week. We got a dusting of snow last night and temps in the low 20’s today. Looks like that’s how it is going to be for the next couple days.

The playoffs are coming to a head. Pittsburgh will host New England and Philly will host Atlanta. Both Pennsylvania teams have a history of choking in the Conference Championship Game at home, it will be interesting to see if history repeats itself. I’m personally apathetic about the whole thing right now. The two teams I did not want to see in the Super Bowl are favored to go. I would have liked to see Peyton Manning and the Colts step it up and beat the Pats, but it wasn’t to be. I guess if I have to root for a team, it’s the Falcons. I mean Michael Vick is an incredible athlete and puts on quite a show.

My own beloved Ravens are going through major coaching changes. On Offense, it looks like Jim Fassel will be the new Offensive Coordinator with Neuheisel coming on as QB coach, we will probably see more changes on offense before this over. On Defense, it looks as though Mike Nolan will be the next coach of the 49ers. Rex Ryan will likely be promoted to Defensive Coordinator. Change is good thing for this team, even on defense. Hopefully, it will be enough to put us back on top of the division. That won’t be easy, since it looks like the Steelers have found the Real Deal in Roethlisberger.

It appears that my diet combined with regular trips to the gym are paying off. There is about 30 pounds less of me than there was at Thanksgiving. I’d like to see myself another 20 pounds lighter but I’m definitely moving in the right direction.

Last night as I was flipping through the movie channels hoping to find something good and interesting to watch, I stumbled across Das Experiment on Starz Cinema. It was a German film that seems to have been inspired by the Prison Experiment done at Stanford in the 1970’s. It was in German but if you don’t mind subtitles it is well worth watching. The basic idea is this: 20 men volunteer for an experiment for which they will be paid. 12 of them are to be prisoners and 8 to be guards. The guards are strictly told that there will be no violence used, but that it is their critical task to maintain order. Of course, the guards become more totalitarian and the prisoners become more subdued, but with some dramatic twists.

This film was released in 2001. Which made some of the imagery in this film even more shocking to me. I couldn’t help but draw some comparisons to Abu Ghraib. The movie illustrated that this is the kind of thing that will happen when guards are under-trained and not adequately supervised. Which seems to have been the case in Abu Ghraib. The Stanford study is over 30 years old now, but apparently we can’t learn from this information.

Even without looking at the political side of it, this film was well worth watching. It was very well done and very thought provoking (at least I thought so.)

An Award Winning Blog? Where? Here!

What award? A Best of Blog? A Bloggie? You haven’t read much of this blog have you? I am the winner of Best Rant About Something That Few People Care About category of the Mango Awards. I even have this nifty button to put on the blog:

I’d like to thank the 5 people (4 if you don’t count me) who voted (repeatedly) for me to win this award. Special thanks to Mango for inventing Awards for me to win and to HippyChix for promoting my misguided desire to win these awards on her blog.

Let’s see I’ve won Awards for being Boring and Having the Least Interesting Rants, I’m a member of the Shitty Blogs Club. I wonder why no one reads this thing.

What can I say, I am what I am. Just a boring geek, but I’m guessing there is even a market for that on the Internet. Besides, it’s not like this costs me anything, I’m not forced to try to please an audience to justify this site’s existence. It exists simply because I desire it to. And that is pretty cool.

Look for another un-interesting rant soon!

As if Blog Explosion wasn’t enough, I’ve gone ahead and signed up for Blog Clicker. Same general idea, look at blogs, get other people to look at yours. I know in my case, most people just cruise by and don’t stay longer than the required minimum. This is OK with me. My blog isn’t for most people, most of them won’t be interested. But in order to find that select few that will appreciate it, I try to get it in front of as many eyes as possible. The converse is true also. I will not like most of the blogs I find through this service either, but hopefully I’ll find a few good ones out there.

The telemarketers have been calling recently. I guess the Do Not Call list isn’t working any more. That’s OK with me too. I kind of like the telemarketers, they provide a good stress release. Whenever I get one of those calls, I politely tell them I am not interested… once. If they insist on trying to sell to me after that, I lay into them. I yell about what ever is my mind.

“Do you know that I worked 12 hours today? Do you think I really wanted to talk to you? Maybe I wanted some Family Time?”
“How can you call on a Sunday? Don’t they have football where you live?”
“We are having a family crisis here. My wife just left me. How can I buy a vacation to Disney at a time like this.”

One time, I kept getting calls from someone who wanted to tell me how I had won a vacation just because I had recently got a credit card. I asked them what card? They had no reply. After a few of these calls, I had a good feel the script. The next time one of them called, I acted all happy and surprised. “Really? I’ve never won anything!” The girl started to get excited too. Maybe she had never had anyone fall for it before. We went through the whole script until she get to the part where she wanted my credit card number to pay for some small fees associated with my free vacation.

“So can I get credit card number from you now, sir?”
“Hell No!” In My happiest, friendliest voice.
“What?”
“No, No thank you, I don’t think so.”

She hung up on me. I know I’ve done a good job if I can get them to hang up on me. It’s more fun than TV. Of course that is nothing compared to what I do to Tech Support people.

First things first. I keep reading about how Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston have broken up. I have only one thing to say about this: Brad Pitt was dating Jennifer Aniston? I guess I’m just that out of the loop.

My blog has been a bit of a bummer recently. Work woes and broken bones and what not. So today, I am posting a little something on a more positive note. Nothing exceptional, just a little thing.

The other day I wandered into Subway to pick up some lunch. I had worked through my lunch so it was past peak hours and Iwas the only customer in the joint. I went to the counter and ordered my sub. I was prepared to stand there and stare at the menu board while the girl behind the counter made my sandwich. That’s the way this works right. I’m too busy to care about anything and she is too disinterested in her job to pay attention to the customers. That’s the way happens everyday in every town. Except not this day.

She asked me if was still raining. I looked up and realized she was talking to me. I told her it was. She wondered if it might snow. I told her that I had heard something about snow, but I didn’t think it would be cold enough. Just a little a conversation about the weather. But by the time my sandwich was made she was smiling at me. And I’m sure I was smiling too. Of course, if my wife asks, I’ll tell her this girl was flirting with me. But really it was simpler than that. She decided that she would hold a conversation with this customer. And it made my day.

The point is this: the world is full of bad things. Tsunami’s, war, trouble at work, whatever. At times it can be overwhelming, but if you recognize the small wonderful things around you, its not so bad. Every little thing helps. Even if it’s just a smile from the little girl at the Subway.

I love my job. I must love it. How else can you explain what I was doing in there on Sunday. Well it could be because I didn’t have much choice.

Anyhow. I had to go into work yesterday. The server rack never had any cable management put in and the back of it was a bit of a rat’s nest. So I headed in to get it cleaned out early Sunday morning. (You can’t go around unplugging servers during Normal hours … the users get irate.) I brought my 11 year old with so he could give me a hand and keep me company. After getting everything disconnected, we were ready for a little break. We stepped out of the office and were going to find a soda. The door clicked closed behind us and for some reason I reached back to check it. Locked. Normally, once you unlock the door it stays unlocked, but if you turn the lock in the inside, you can have it so it stays locked all the time. Which is what the cleaning crew must have done on Saturday.

I reached in my pocket … you know what comes next, right? No keys. They were in my jacket pocket, in the office. A maintenance guy had come in to let some contractors in. I asked him to unlock my door. He didn’t have keys for any of the offices, only for the plant floor. I called the production manager. He didn’t answer. Anyone else I could have called lived over a half hour away. I got out a ladder and set it up in front of the door. I climbed up, popped a ceiling tile and took a look around. The wall around my office goes up about 10 feet and there is only about 2 feet of clearance between the ceiling and the roof. I grabbed a broom handle and tried to manipulate the lock on the inside. No luck. By now my son had decided I was insane. I was inclined to agree with him.

I could have called my boss. I probably should have. But I just couldn’t. I would have to hear inferences about how I can’t even take care of my keys for weeks. I decided I would rather break my neck than hear that. So I handed my cell phone to the kid and told him to call his mother if I fell to my death. Then I climbed up the ladder, got myself straddled on the wall, and proceed to lower myself into the office. All I an say about that is: it is a good thing I have lost some weight recently or this story might have had a different ending. I unlocked the door and we got back to work. No soda for us.

The moral of this story is: If you’re going to work on Sunday Morning you might as well break into your own office just to keep it interesting. I guess the good news is that it really kind of has to get better from here.

I’ve spent a fair amount of time in this space talking about Backpacking. Many of you may be thinking, “Does Jeckles have any other hobbies?” The rest of you may be thinking, “How in the world did I end up on the blog of this Loser?”

I do indeed have other hobbies. I’ve done a great deal of photography, although not recently. Why? That is a story for a different day. I also used to go mountain biking almost every weekend. That is the story for today.

About four years ago, my brother got himself a mountain bike. Not a good one, he got the $80 special from Target. He liked it well enough, but he had no one to go riding with. So, of course, he started goading me into buying one. I went to Target, but I figured I was too cool for the $80 special, so I picked up my bike for about $120. It was very impressive looking with knobby tires and 21 speeds plus front and rear shocks. It was constructed of steel and seemed very sturdy. We set off to some nearby trails and put the bikes through their paces.

It is at this point that I should explain a few things. At that time I wasn’t in anywhere near the good shape I am now. It hadn’t been but a year since I quit smoking and I still got winded pretty easily. Not only that, but my muscles were kind of atrophied from a decade of (self-imposed) inactivity. I learned three things on that trip. First, riding a bike up and down hills, like you see in those commercials, requires a lot of peddling. Second, sturdy steel construction makes a bike very heavy. Third, it is very exhilarating to ride fast down hills on a bike. During the next couple of outings, I found that the very cheap rear shocks on my bike had a tendency to spring up and throw me from the bike. I also found that if you leave the ground and then come back down on a cheap bike that the rims might start to change shape.

I took the bike back to Target and played dumb. “I don’t know why the wheel spins funny or why it squeals like that. Hmmm, I’m not sure how all that mud got on it.” They let me exchange it. I traded up for the best bike they had. Still only about $200 but made of aluminum and much lighter that the other one. This one still wasn’t a good bike but it was better, and no rear shock to throw me around. We got to riding further and I got pretty good at doing little repairs that got my bike running better. I also got pretty good at bringing the rim back to true. I was still in pretty lousy shape (and my balance was lousy) but I had fun with it. The only thing that really bugged me was that I couldn’t do any of the fancy mounting biking trips. I couldn’t do more than the smallest hop. If there was an obstacle of any size on the trail I had to either try to plow over it, which put me on the ground almost every time or I had to get off my bike and lift it over. The only thing that made this bearable was that my brother wasn’t too much better at these things.

One of the trails we rode on was much more technical than most of the trails we rode. There were steep climbs and many fallen trees across it. At each tree we would have to pick up our bikes and carry them over and at each climb we would have to push our bikes up it. In our minds this trail was the measure of a good biker. If we could ride this trail, then we would be Extreme Mountain Bikers.

One December day, we were riding this trail and we stopped at the top of a hill because there was a log in the trail about a third of the way down. We walked over to it and took a good look. It was put there for erosion control. On the uphill side it stuck up about 2 inches. On the downhill side it dropped off about 8 inches. I looked at it and thought about those Extreme Mountain Bikers and looked at it some more.

I can jump that, I thought.

“I’m gonna jump it,” I said.
“It’s do-able,” my brother replied.

I started back towards my bike with images straight from Mountain Dew commercials in head. Then I spoke the words that sealed my fate. I said, “Stand down there, so you can see how cool I look.”

I got on my bike, and started peddling for speed. As I approached the log, time slowed down. I had to time the jump correctly. If I didn’t I’d surely spill (like all those other times.) My original plan was to pull the bike up right before the log, but as I got close that seemed very scary. Since the log wasn’t very high on this side I figured I’d let the tire ride over it and let the front shock do the work for me. I put my weight low and towards the back of the bike and braced myself. I wasn’t ready. I knew it. Too late to think about braking. Up! Darkness. Pain! Oh God, So much pain. A Voice.

“Be still, you need to be still.” My brother’s voice. Another Voice.
“I can’t. I can’t.” My voice.

Things became clearer. I realized that I was thrashing around. I calmed myself. I remembered the jump.

“What happened?”
“You went straight up! Then landed on your head. Are you OK?”
“I don’t know. My head is fine. My shoulder hurts.”
“You’ll be OK.”

I reached into my shirt and touched the bone that doctors call the Clavicle. It was so sore. I probed with my finger. I could feel the bone move.

“I broke my collarbone!”
“You’re not a doctor. Let’s get you out of here.”

The doctors later confirmed that I had indeed broken my collarbone, in three places. I was in a sling for over a month. It took 6 months to heal completely. The bike was fine. I had broken its fall. The whole thing might not have been as bad if it hadn’t been 27 degrees out that day. The ground was frozen solid and I might as well have landed on a slab of concrete.

I haven’t gone biking but once or twice since then. I’m putting it off until I can afford a nicer bike. And I’ll get one, but I’m not quite ready yet.

Early tonight I was listening to Lucy (on the XM Radio) and Howard Jones came on. You remember … Things can only get better and What is Love. I was sort of humming along when it occurred to me how truly simple these New Wave songs were. At the time they seemed very fancy with the synthesizers and what not (it may also have something to do with the fact that I was 13 when those songs came out,) but by today’s standards they are really kinda quaint. I really love hearing music from the early eighties. I even seem to enjoy song that I didn’t care for when they came out the first time. That may have something to do with the fact I didn’t have some of the music that is out now to compare those songs to. Madonna sounds pretty good compared to Britney Spears. Or maybe its just me.

In more Tragic news, the NFL’s Regular Season is over and my Ravens have missed the playoffs. We fired our Offensinve Coordinator, which was long overdue and Phil Savage (director of player personnel) is headed to rival Cleveland Browns. Now I get another month of Football while I watch Playoffs. I guess I’ll be rooting for Peyton Manning and the Colts. If that doesn’t work out, I’ll have to resort to root against the Eagles and the Arch-Rival Steelers. Now I just have to remember what it is I do on Sundays for those other 6 months of the year.

Lastly, I could tell you to vote me again, but I’m beginning to sound too whiney even for me. Instead, I’ll help out a fellow SBC Member: Fat Eye For The Skinny Guy!. He’s up for one of those swanky BoB awards (Most Humorous Blog) and his blog is much better than the compitition. Head on over and vote for him.

Did I really get a whole week off? It sure doesn’t feel like it. Only two days back and I’m already back to gritting my teeth and forcing myself to smile when other employees are around. It actually started Sunday night. I was so stressed that I barely slept. This isn’t healthy. But enough about that, talking (or writing) about it just gets me more upset.

For fun tonight, I let a friend of mine who is a Real Estate agent, showed a house to me. I’m not looking to move, but this was one cool house. It consisted of 2 geodesic domes connected by a foyer. Each Dome had a garage coming of the front of it make the floor plan of it in a kind of U shape. It’s pretty much impossible to describe how cool this house was. Each Dome was its own self sufficient house each had a living room a couple of bathrooms and a kitchen. This you might think would make the whole thing kind of redundant, but it wasn’t. Each dome was designed and decorated in a completely different fashion. I would love to live in this house.

Of course that particular house is out of our league by a couple hundred thousand, so I will not be moving in anytime soon. My interest in a geodesic dome home has been piqued. The wife and I have done a little surfing on the matter and have found that there are a few companies that sell kits for building your own Dome Home. I’ll have to think on that for a while. I still can’t afford to do that right now, but it’s an option down the road a bit.

Now go over to Mango’s blog and vote for me. Why? Perhaps you should read this. (And remember you can vote every day)

Question: What the heck is a Mango Award?
Answer: Who cares. I won one.

Mango from Mango:Work Sucks Vegas Doesn’t decided to start some awards of his own. Awards people like me actually might have a chance to win, unlike some other awards out there. As a matter of fact I did win.

I won in the category: Self Proclaimed Most Boring Blog Ever, Even Though It’s Not OK. It’s not a Pulitzer or anything. Still, it’s nice to get recognition for this little blog o’mine.

Better yet, I’m up for Voting in Best Rant About Something Few People Care About. I think that I really deserve to win this one too. Don’t believe me. Read this or this or this. Did you read them? I didn’t think so. It’s because you didn’t care about what I was ranting about. It’s OK, I am comfortable with that. Now, go to Mango’s Blog and vote for me for Best Rant About Something Few People Care About. Thanks.