Not only does he talk too much...

It Starts

2011-12-16T11:41:00.000-08:00

I actually started training for the upcoming Bike MS event a couple of weeks ago.

About that same time I had my annual physical and the doctor said "You could stand to lose a little weight" (and understatement in my never to be humble opinion).

During last year's ride there was a point in the gentle hills where I could not keep up with Michelle and her new fancy pants lightweight road bike so this year I bit the bullet and purchased a fancy pants recumbent trike with those same skinny wheels and those same fancy components.

All of those things come together with another decision I made while trying to choose between a Bacchetta two wheel recumbent or the Catrike that I ended up choosing. While making the decision I knew I preferred the trike but the two wheel Bacchetta didn't weigh as much (I guess that's a big deal for people who ride bikes a great deal). Both recumbents weighed less than the bike I was currently riding. but the Bacchetta was 10 pounds lighter than the Catrike. Offsetting the lower weight, the trike was going to be safer on the road and frankly much more like a go-cart so probably more fun. I had myself a genuine dilemma.

At some point I decided that the weight of the bike was only a factor relative to the total package going down the road. If I included myself in that total package (and it would be just plain weird if the bike I was riding in the Bike MS event went down the road without me) then I could make up the ten pound difference by reducing my personal weight by that amount. Moving forward with that train of thought I contemplated the upcoming bike equipment discussions that commonly include the question "So how much does that thing weigh" and I decided that if I lost the total weight of my trike I could reasonably answer "By itself it's about 34 pounds but when I'm sitting in the seat it doesn't weigh anything"

So that's where the goal came from. I started out with a decision to lose the total weight of my new trike but after thinking about what would be left I decided it would be possible, perhaps even wise, to loose twice the weight of my new Catrike Expedition.

So it starts. I've decided to lose the weight of the bike before the end of this year (this year being next year because I can't dump 34 pounds in 15 days) and lose the weight of the bike again in 2013.

Who knows, maybe I'll even lose the weight of the bike a third time before I ride this thing coast to coast when I retire.

Epiphany

2011-09-24T15:13:00.000-07:00

I'm going through security in the .Gillette airport. I put my things on the scanner belt then hand the officer my drivers license and boarding pass. As I take off my shoes and belt and send those through the scanner the officer gets all serious and asks "Is this your real ID?".
"Excuse me?"
"This ID. It isn't valid. It isn't you".
"Well, I'm sure it is me" I reply.
"I don't think so he states firmly. Show me the expression on this ID" he demands.

"Let me see my drivers license" I reply.
"No" he responds. "If this is your ID you should show me the same expression. If you see the ID you will know what I'm looking for"

Well, as you can probably guess I am now looking for the candid camera equipment. Finding no film crew I ask "This is a joke, right?"
"No sir, I am absolutely serious" he retorts giving me his best officer in control stare.
"Well...I think we need to talk to your supervisor now" is my reply and just as I say it a lady steps over to officer fake ID and ask him what the problem is.

"This ID doesn't look right. I don't think it is valid and I'm not sure it is even him" he tells his boss.

"Let me see the ID" she requests and he puts my drivers license in her hand.

She looks at the license. She looks at me. She looks back at the license then says to me "I'm sorry Mr Crawford, if you could give me jus"t a second".
She immediately turns to the guy who is saving yet another building from a terrorist attack and says "This is the same guy. Look the shir even looks about the same, the only difference is he is wearing glasses".
"I told him he didn't look the same and asked him to show me the expression on the license but he didn't know to take the glasses off and look at this ID - it doesn't look right" he quickly explains.
Then the epiphany happened. The supervisor pointed at my license. "See here, this is a Texas license, that's why it looks different. And notice that his final destination is Dallas..."

The challenging officer's eyes open wide. "Oh! Texas! That's why it looks different" and with that he waves me through to the plain loading area.

A short time later I'm on the tarmac about to board the airplane. I open my case to get my Kindle and realize I have taken a 20 ounce bottle of diet coke with me to the aircraft.
My ID was a threat but I guess the 20ounces of liquid are OK. I snag the Kindle and shrug, then as an afterthought I carefully shake the dust off my shoes before boarding the flight.

Was it Intentional?

2011-05-23T07:41:00.000-07:00

Our little dog has learned a new thing. Every day I go to the corner convenience store and get a Coke to drink while I'm working. The past few times I took the dog along and got him a little treat while I was inside.

Today I grabbed my 52 ounce cup (refills are cheaper than new drinks), rinsed it out and headed for the door. On the way to the back door I noticed Newbie was dancing at my feet while looking up at the cup. I realized he has learned an association. I said "OK, you can come" and the dance got really wild. I picked him up, carried him to the car and put him in.

As I turned the key to start the engine I happened to be looking in the right direction to see something that surprised me and has me wondering..."was it intentional?"

Newbie put his feet on the passenger side arm rest, poked his nose against the glass, and then did something that was totally unexpected. He looked down, lifted his left leg, and put his foot on the window control button. The window came down and he stuck his head out to take a nice whiff of the day outside.

It had to be a coincidence, right?

Well, yesterday we took him in Michelle's car and he "accidentally" stepped on the button and opened the back seat window and the last two or three times in my truck I've noticed he happens to hit the button that opens the window.

Evil genius or lucky footwork? It leaves me wondering.

Do I Have This Right

2011-01-29T11:48:00.001-08:00

It's been years. Many much years since I took chemistry and physics classes but I think I have this right.

Isn't there some point in the process when a transformation occurs and it is no longer Sushi?

The Manna Effect

2011-01-28T04:36:00.001-08:00

I have this gas BBQ. The bottle has been empty for a number of months now.

As I lit the grill to make some meat (I probably do that 2 or 3 times a week) I had the same thought I always have.

"Those flames are tiny - that gas bottle is going to shut me down before the steaks are done and I'll have to finish on the George Foreman grill".

Then I turn on a 2nd burner, wait for 350 degrees, and cook my meat. When I get done I turn it all off and say to myself "I pulled it off one last time. I'll never get through it again, not with this bottle of gas I won't".

It occurred to me tonight that there is something magical about that "last dose". Have you ever had the Manna toothpaste tube? It's been empty for months and every day you squeeze out the absolute last little dab of paste ... then the next day it happens again?

Same thing with shampoo bottles. It's been empty for as long as you can remember. It's been upside down in the shower for months. Every time you pick it up you instantly know the bottle is empty because it weighs less than a bottle (probably filled with helium or something) - every time it squirts out a third of what you thought you needed, but that turns out to be just enough.

Corn starch box - same thing. Always empty. Always enough to make one more round of gravy.

So my question is this. Is this just a Christian thing? I'm a Christian and it works in my house. I get that when God introduced the concept of manna he did it for the Jewish folks when they were wondering around in the wilderness so I find myself wondering if they get a few extra months (or 40 years) of toothpaste from an empty tube. How about the Muslims? Prior to that whole Isaac Ishmael thing they had a connection - does that mean they get extra shampoo too?

Maybe it goes farther. God loves us all. Do we all get extra gas in our BBQ tanks?

Life seems to be a collection of so many things I just don't understand.

10 "Things" Michelle and I like

2011-01-02T12:54:00.000-08:00

Mandy wrote a blog recently that discussed the things (that would be nouns that are not people or places) that she really liked in 2010. As I read her post I started thinking about my four and a half inch angle grinder and it was clear to me that it was a thing worthy of a blog post all by itself. Following my little daughter's lead I decided I would come up with a list of things I liked this year.

As I started to think of them it occurred to me that maybe I didn't have enough things to come up with a list all by myself ... so I asked my other half to help me by combining her list.

DSLR Camera - Jim - I know I opened with the angle grinder but I decided the DSLR has to go on the top of my list because without a doubt the Nikon D-90 has been my favorite toy this year. I have 3 lenses that give me most any picture I want (and a 4th that I use from time to time). I suppose they are things too but I'm including them in this list. The lenses (in order of preference)

Nikor 18-200 - I like this lens because it a zoom lens that really should be two lens
Nikor 10-24 - Ultra wide angle. I'm consistently stunned by how much picture this grabs
Nikor f1.8 35 - This prime lens is fast. Really fast (i.e. lots of depth of field)

4.5 Inch Angle Grinder - Jim (duh). I started body work on my 54 Chevy this year and initially I was using sand paper, a wire brush, and a die grinder. As I sit here on January 2nd of 2011 I am a much wiser man with the knowledge that a 4.5 inch angle grinder is SO MUCH better than those other tools for removing rust or metal that you think shouldn't be there. I also learned it removes skin and meat so I gained some additional wisdom around that feature.

Droid Phone - Both - I actually had the phone on the list prior to inviting Michelle for her entries but if Michelle loves her phone, my phone affection is little more than a grade school crush. Truth be told, my perspective is that if she had to choose between me and that phone ... well, let's hope she doesn't have to make that choice (moving is stressful).

15,000 Pound Automotive Lift - Jim - When I built the toy box in the back yard I designed it so I could put an automotive lift in it. It's quite surprising how the folks in China have brought the cost of having such a thing from over $10,000 to under $1,500. I figured it would be handy to have the capacity to lift a car and walk under it, but I had no idea how a device like that coupled with some out of the box creativity could do so many things (that have nothing to do with lifting cars).

Kindle - Both - I sit in the lazy boy chair. Michelle lays on the couch. I read and the device shows me the pages of my book without the burden of book marks, losing my place, or turning pages. For Michelle in the same time window the Kindle displays a screen saver and, using the new technology in this new version, prevents her from snoring

Hobart 140 MIG Welder - I haven't welded for 25 or 30 years. I may have forgotten but it seemed to me that arch welders threw sparks everywhere and (among other things)set your cloths on fire. If the stick got to close, it stuck to the weld. If it got too far away the arc ceased to exist. Let me tell you, folks, the world has changed. Shielding gas does wonderful things to the sparks. Wire feed makes a stick more or less barbaric. Technology made welding much more fun.

"That Picture" - Michelle has been frustrated for years at her inability to get a picture of the whole family. She forces us all into a pose from time to time but it never seems to go the way she wants it and she always comes up short. This year the kids (and their spouses who, from my perspective, shouldn't be singled out separately because the spouses are part of "the kids") met in Vail Colorado for a vacation together. While there they created some excellent pictures and played a cruel trick on their mother. I'm a little slow (because I never figured out what the trick was) but it must have been mean because the picture made her cry.

Scroll Saw - Michelle - Michelle started a new wood working hobby this year. We already have many woodworking devices (table saw, compound mitre saw, table sander, drill press, router table, etc) but we didn't have a scroll saw and she wanted to cut out wooden turkeys (and you aren't doing the feet with any of those tools).

So there you have it. The things we liked in 2010.

Education

2010-12-22T15:44:00.001-08:00

Today's lesson, girls and boys, is about education. Not education in general, it's more like when your mom used to ask you what you learned when you came home from school each day. Today I learned 4 things.

Thing Number 1)

Previously, I learned that when you need to remove 56 years worth of rust from an old Chevy pickup frame, a tool like this makes the job go much faster. Today I learned that you REALLY want to keep your fingers out of this tool when it is running.

Thing Number 2)

A year and a half ago when I built the shop I purchased a first aid kit and hung it on the wall in there. It was somewhat ironical that Monday (that would be the day before yesterday) I was doing some cleaning, noticed the first aid kit hanging there and had a moment of reflection when I pondered what might be inside the kit and whether it would ever get used. Today I learned what the inside of the kit looked like (it looked like this and had everything I needed)

Thing Number 3)

This is actually a self portrait showing the front of my shirt. It is cropped so you can see the little spears of wire sticking out of me. I already knew the spinning wire wheel does that to you. Today I learned that so many are hitting you that you might not notice one that sticks in your head just below your hair line (but someone at McDonnalds will tell you about it when you stop in to get your lunch)

Thing Number 4)

My fourth and final thing I learned today is that this (another self portrait)...

...is not enough protection (although it seems like a lot - look, I even have ear plugs for the noise). I now wear leather gloves too!

A Laugh Out Loud Moment

2010-12-20T09:52:00.000-08:00

So I'm cutting 2 inch angle iron for a project I'm working on. Sparks are flying everywhere as they always do but I've done this so many times in the past week that I really don't mind being bathed in the fire.

That was when I smelled the burning hair.

You would think this post would be about the burning hair, but it isn't. I clearly remember having a conscious thought. It was:

"I am in the middle of a shower of sparks and I smell burning hair ... that can't be good".

Obviously I stopped cutting and patted my head down to smother any fire that was going on up there but by the time I finished ensuring I wasn't on fire anymore I pondered the thought that triggered the fire prevention activity and started laughing so hard that I had to take pause before returning to my task.

Now if I can just work that into a conversation with another human being...

"I am in the middle of a shower of sparks and I smell burning hair ... that can't be good".

Who Gets to Decide?

2010-12-20T09:15:00.001-08:00

Man's best friend.

Shortly after I woke this morning Michelle told me that the dog (or dogs - we are dog sitting for Mandy and Jack) had managed to pee in four separate places during the night. All four spots were in the room with the dog door (mere feet from the great outdoors). As she exited for work she asked me if I would rake the poop up in the yard today too.

So I'm on my hands and knees with a rag and Clorox water cleaning up last night's fun and games when I look up and I see this:

It was at that point I began to wonder who decided Newbie was my best friend.

You see, I went to Home Depot yesterday to get something they didn't have. As I was exiting the store empty handed I walked by a display of safety glasses and pondered the shower of sparks I seem to be taking daily now that I've taken up metal working as a new hobby. I decided to buy two pairs of new safety glasses so I would have an extra should someone want to watch me work at some future point.

When I got home I wanted to clean the house up some (Michelle was returning from a solo week of vacation) but knowing my feeble 50+ year old mind, I realized that failure to put the new glasses in the shop would result in them being hopelessly lost (without too much grief from me as I probably wouldn't even remember that I purchased them in the first place). To dodge that scenario I hung them on the knob of the back door where I was sure to see them the next time I was heading out to the shop.

You can probably guess the rest. At some point during the night my "best friend" decided to help me out by ripping through the bottom of the bag, taking both pairs of plastic safety glasses out into the yard, and, being unable to write a love note, put the only real signature he had on them.

Time passes.

I get the rake and start taking on the virtual sea of puppy droppings. It's been a week and these two dogs are a remarkable factory. If only they were dropping car parts in the yard. I'd have a hummer by now. I'm sure of it.

When Michelle left she tried to soften the request by saying she just wanted me to rake the bountiful harvest into a pile, I didn't need to pick it up. Considering this I appriciated the gesture but also knew there was no good reason to leave the job undone once I got a nice deep pile. As I grumbled about the fact that I didn't get to vote on Newbie being my best friend, I headed into the garage to get a shovel.

I found the shovel, walked back to the yard, opened the gate to see Jack's best friend rolling in the pile.

It was then that I knew I had to go public in the blogosphere and ask the question. Who gets to decide?

Pointless and Amazing

2010-12-11T04:58:00.000-08:00

I've done this thing from time to time when I find a very liberal political discussion, and I participate. I do it because I think I will be amused by the exchange of ideas and the debate will grow me. I think I'm done doing it.

Actually it surprises me how bitter, angry and condescending many folks on the left are. I go in and make bold statements about the issues and the responses typically include personal insults, shots at my family, sweeping derogatory generalizations about republicans and ALWAYS include attacks on my intelligence.

My approach was typically to enter the conversation with something provocative to get their attention, then after they react and respond engage in a friendly, polite, and hopefully intense dialog.

Let's say, for example, I found a thread that was addressing the roll-back of the Bush tax cuts. The liberal folks would be going on and on about how the rich are evil and must pay more while they themselves are having a hard time and should pay less and get more help from the government. In the thread there seem to be folks who believe if we all pay, say, 15% in taxes, it isn't right because the "rich" aren't paying pay more (and they should). They think they should be paying 5% and the rich should be paying 40%.

I must admit it isn't clear to me why the rich must pay more but let's set that aside for a moment. I would want to argue that 15% of $20,000 was $3,000 and 15% of a million was $150,000 so the gal making a million would pay 7.5 times the $20,000 yearly salary as an annual tax (and that is MORE). If we had an equal percentage the folks who make more still pay more.

So I would enter the thread and my provocative attention getter (to ensure folks would want to read my second post to the thread which makes the point above) would be something like "If you expect people who make over $250,000 to pay 40% of their income in taxes you should be willing to stand up and pay 40% yourself or you should sit down and shut up".

The response is actually fairly universal and predictable. They will start by calling me a jackass. (I believe the last thread it was "You are an evil greedy jackass") and then they would set into personal attacks like "You are a horrible, despicable human being" and "You are what is wrong with this country" or "you should be jailed (or killed or some other horrible fate)." They will ALWAYS tell me I'm uneducated and not as smart as them.

I will then put up my second post making my point about fiscal policy and adding that they really don't know me well enough to make judgments about my intelligence and greed. I rarely get through the second round without sweeping generalizations about the evils of "people like me" and additional personal attacks. I can more or less count on being called a bigot in round two and it is not uncommon for them to start taking shots at my family. The last round one of them got on my face book page, saw that I read Sarah Palin's commentaries and then attacked me because I would have to be ignorant and a bigot if I didn't hate her.

I am flawed if I am not smart enough to hate someone.

It is amazing.

Lest I distort the truth it is important that I say there are some folks who will stick with the issues. Some will tell me that they think the rich should pay more because a 50% tax won't have an effect on their standard of living where as someone who is making $30,000 a year could not survive on $15,000 (thus providing the dialog and debate I was originally seeking) but I've never engaged in one of these discussions where someone didn't put all their energy into hating me (sometimes in scary ways).

So I have decided my last such discussion was my last such discussion. I've decided the whole thing is fairly pointless. I'm not going to convince them of anything. They are elite and could never hear the words of an ignorant, greedy bigot such as me. For my part, I love the debate but I've decided it isn't worth all the negative energy. I typically spend 75% of my responses addressing attacks on me as a person rather than discussing the issues. If I can't discuss the issues the participation is pointless. The negative energy is pointless. Entering a dialog with people who are too elite to hear my side is pointless. Talking with people who hate me so much that they can't discuss the issues without insulting me and my family is ... well, pointless.

It's truly amazing.

Living a Life of Tolerance

2010-11-11T06:46:00.001-08:00

First of all let's be clear. I don't give a crap who got here first. You only get to lay claim to "ownership" if you can hold on to what you think is yours and if you are strong enough to protect it. If you aren't strong someone stronger may come along and take it away from you. If that happens, you need to stop pouting, get over it and adapt. The world changed, you big baby, and feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to benefit you OR your kind. I say assimilate. Figure the new world order out and find a place in that world.

Now if you aren't too stupid or too lazy and you actually make an effort to assimilate, I'm the kind of guy who will respect you for it and I will begin to practice tolerance. I will honor you in your new environment. Heck, I might even lend a helping hand even if it means I have to go against the establishment to support you.

This isn't theory. This is real. Let me tell you my story.

Michelle doesn't like them. Well, in all fairness that isn't completely true. She likes them ok, just not in our neighborhood. I on the other hand, I figure they have as much right to be here as I do so I've practiced tolerance for years. She is nervous that they will vandalize our house and she blames them for some past damage. I'm not sure if the damage was from them but even if it was, the one who did the damage probably doesn't represent the views of the rest of them enough that we should be making sweeping judgments about all of them so I still argue for tolerance. Recently I went a step farther (even though my wife was opposed).

I decided to help them out by providing some food. Michelle thinks it is a bad move because that will just bring more of them in and the chance of vandalism increases but I'm committed so...

I build a squirrel feeder outside my window. It has two screws through it and I put corn cobs on the screws (one fresh, one dried). I like to watch them come around and chew on the corn (except when the dog sees it then I DON'T like the chaos that occurs when Newbie freaks out) and I get that they may try to burrow another hole in my eaves so they can build a next but I still think that we need to share our resources.

I know, I know these squirrels are are lower on the food chain than we are and I could just kill them but hey! I'm living a life of tolerance.

50 Things Abou Me

2010-10-31T07:43:00.001-07:00

My niece Maggie did a post like this and it looked amusing so I thought I would do one too. Here's fifty things about me (in no particular order).

1. Like many people who are pushing 53 years old, I'm overweight and could stand to lose 50 pounds.

2. I really enjoy photography, have a nice digital SLR, and have taken over 15,000 pictures in the last decade. I only show people around 1,700 of them, though.

3. I do all the cooking at our house. My wife does the laundry.

4. I'm done paying for college and weddings so I've reached a point in my life where I don't need the next promotion or pay raise. As a result my work is focused on what amuses me rather than getting my boss' attention.

5. I believe that being in debt is not a good thing so I (we) paid everything off and now I save up for big purchases rather than borrowing the money. Perhaps that is part of the reason I don't need the next promotion or pay raise.

6. I like to travel but have done enough of it that I don't like to do a great deal of it.

7. I've been to every state in the USA but one.

8. I've been to every continent in the world but one.

9. One day I will visit the 7th continent but I'll never visit the 50th state.

10. If I die before my wife she will have me cremated and scatter the ashes in the state I haven't been to.

11. If I die after my wife, my kids will bury me with a head stone that says "Having a great time, wish you were here".

12. I got picked on by bullies a lot when I was growing up.

13. I am a black belt in Taekwondo.

14. I won 2nd in sparring at the national Taekwondo championships in 2003.

15. I have jumped out of an airplane (with a parachute)

16. At one time I had an FAA instructor ticket for a specific type of ultra-light aircraft but I am no longer current. I still fly sometimes.

17. My kids really impress me. My son is smarter that I am and my daughter is a better person than I am. I suppose that means I've had the best possible parenting experience because nothing is more valuable than having your kids end up better than you are.

18. My son is very much like my wife and my daughter is very much like me in most things. The exception is the trait of focus on others. In that area my son is like me and my daughter is like my wife.

19. I have ridden in the MS-150 (150+ mile bike ride to raise money) in all but one of the last 8 years. The year I missed was because my doctor told me I couldn't ride. I drove a support van that year.

20. I have had an AK47 pointed in my face in a threatening way in the middle east.

21. I once paid a bribe so I would be allowed to enter a place where Christians were forbidden (Muslims only).

22. I once bribed a police officer (in Egypt) so he would allow me to buy train tickets without a passport.

23. One time when I was in Egypt I had my driver slap a camera out of my hands and on to the floorboards because he spotted armed guards on an overpass and feared they would think I was taking pictures of the presidential palace and shoot into the car.

24. I have walked on the great wall of China with my daughter.

25. I have gone up the Eiffel Tower with my daughter.

26. I have visited the house where Ann Frank hid from the Nazi's with my daughter.

27. I have stood at the base of the Christ the Redeemer statue on Corcovado with my daughter (actually at one point we laid on the ground together there).

28. I have stood on the deck of a cruise ship with my daughter watching the coast guard helicopter medivac a medical emergency off.

29. I attended a super bowl where I watched the Denver Broncos win their first world championship.

30. I attended game 6 of the NBA Championships where I watched the Boston Celtics clinch the World Championship (and I got to attend the team after party)

31. I attended the game where Nolan Ryan pitched his 7th no-hitter.

32. I have a shop in my backyard with an automotive lift in it. As I type this it has a 54 Chevy pickup on it (the frame of the pickup is about 7 feet off the ground).

33. I once petted a kangaroo (and not in a zoo).

34. I once climbed to the top of Devils Tower. I think it is scariest thing I have ever done (I have a significant fear of heights).

35. I have been playing disc golf (sometimes called Frisbee golf) for over 16 years. I play most Saturdays. In all those rounds, I have had 1 (count it, one) hole in one.

36. I work for the 10th largest company in the country (39th largest in the world).

37. When I was 15 I got my first GM car. When I turn 55 I will be driving my last GM car.

38. I have owned a 69 Z28 Camaro and a 65 Mustang convertible.

39. I donated to 2 political candidates this year. Neither one was in the state where I reside.

40. I often say that if Christians spent as much time helping non-Christians as they did sending other Christians to hell, Jesus would have come back years ago because we would be done.

41. I once had a massive pulmonary embolism and spent about 2 weeks in ICU. I had to sit still the first 48 hours (while they were pumping me full of heparin) - That was the reason the doctor wouldn't let me ride the MS-150 that year.

42. There are many political arguments these days about making the rich pay more. Having been all over the world I have come to believe you would be hard pressed to find ANYBODY in this country that isn't rich so I'm in favor of a flat tax where we all pay the same.

43. I don't have a bucket list but I'm thinking about writing one. If I do, one of the thing in it will be to coordinate an effort to donate 10,000 pounds to meat to the folks who could use a little help.

44. My wife got a new Yorkie (that's a dog for those of you who were wondering) when her old dog died. I probably like this dog more than any other dog she has ever had.

45. My wife's new dog barks too much.

46. I don't think I could tell you what my favorite food is. It is rare to find one I don't care for.

47. I really don't like it when someone who is driving down the road stops traffic to let someone out. I believe the person who does that thinks they are doing a good thing by creating an inconvenience for half a dozen (or more) people behind them so that they can create a convenience for a single person. I believe it is stupid to think it is a good to be inconsiderate to many people so you can be considerate to one.

48. I think it is cute when someone from a small town complains about heavy traffic in their town or another small town. The people in Houston, Boston, Washington DC and Denver understand what I'm talking about. That said, the word "heavy" is relative. If you live in Upton Wyoming I'm sure Gillette Wyoming has heavy traffic. The comment isn't wrong - but it is still cute.

49. I'm really comfortable with people who disagree with me. Truth be told, I have no doubt that dissenting views make life better and more interesting.

50. I am all for tolerance but think acceptance goes too far. I need to tolerate your right to think what you want to think (as long as it isn't hurting anybody else). I also support a world that tolerates you doing what you want to do (again, with your freedom stopping prior to damaging others). I do not, however, support a social view that tells me I need to accept your views. That's just stupid. If you are wrong, if you are ignorant, or if you are into things I don't want to connect with there is just no good reason for me to accept your view. I respect your right to a different view but if you want to force me to accept something I don't agree with I'm going to push back.

Harry Potter and The Mosque at Ground Zero

2010-10-17T08:45:00.001-07:00

I read a lot of books but a children's fantasy about an orphan witch would not be a likely choice for me.

When the first book of the Harry Potter series came out it created quite an emotional stir and people at my church were going on and on about how it would lure children into a relationship with Satan himself. It was quite the emotional ruckus.

People kept asking me what I though about it and finally I decided to read the book and form an opinion. Well, long story short it ended up costing me the enough time to read 7 books. The series was quite a compelling read and I'm still feeling my secure in the salvation of my soul.

I could have opened this post with the same discussion about The Da Vinci Code. Another book that had the Christian community all wound up and rattled. Another read that left me wondering why people could get upset over such things.

I am currently engaged in a couple of Facebook discussions about the mosque at ground zero. When the dust settles, Facebook isn't a great forum for such things because the quantity of text has a limit that always seems to distract me.

My participation in the thread started when I threw a simple question into an emotional post about the mosque. I simply asked "Is it a mosque or a community center?". The response was something like "Jim, I hope you are kidding..." or some such thing.

The truly striking thing about Harry Potter and The Da Vinci Code was that so many people were upset and angry. During discussions with the angry people I would ask them if they read the books and I would get responses like "I would never read such a horrible thing!" or "I don't have to read it, I've heard plenty already".

Let me tell you something (and here comes the whole point of this post), you can't know what you think about an issue - ESPECIALLY an emotional issue before you do your own research.

As a side note (and for no extra charge) for those who haven't noticed yet, religion and politics are typically emotional.

Most of our political info comes from the press. The press makes their living by getting you interested in engaging to learn more. I'll present two headlines. You decide which you would be more likely to engage in:

Religious group to build cultural center in lower Manhattan.

or

Muslim Extremists to build Mosque at Ground Zero

I'm selling advertising time on a web page or radio and I want to tell my sponsors that people will be plugged in strongly enough to make it past the commercial break, I need the raw emotion. The same is probably true for our religious leaders. It serves them well to have their followers emotionally connected to an issue now and then.

The title that is shocking serves the ultimate goal and if you don't pay attention and find out what is really going on you can find yourself all fired up ready to enter a battle with casualties. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not the kind of a guy that is inclined to avoid a battle because there might be casualties. As I age, however, I learn that often the casualties aren't really necessary.

Rather than dilute my point here, which is you need to get all the facts prior to forming an opinion, I will put detail on my current views about the mosque at ground zero into another post. The truth is I still don't know enough about motive and funding to have a definitive view yet but the preliminary checking leads me to believe we're collecting ammunition over a YMCA rather than a temple to worship the acts of Bin Laden.

...and the Harry Potter books? Great story but I might be slow to let younger children read the later volumes. The series got kind of dark as it matured. The good thing about these books is they will help your children learn to love reading. The stories are quite wonderful. If you want to be really safe you could balance it by spending some time with your children in the Bible reviewing scripture around what God says about witches and witchcraft. Do that and you've planted a seed to help them grow into an adult that does what this post is urging. -- Oh, and if they are afraid of the dark, tell them Voldemort is real. That should be a hoot!

We're In Training

2010-09-02T16:44:00.000-07:00

Let's start with the basics. I'm a few months away from my 53rd birthday and do computers for a living so I spend much (most) of my life sitting (when I'm not sleeping). I stand 6'5" tall and tip the scales a touch over 280 pounds.

My exercise life isn't as good as it once was. I used to run 5 miles after work every day. I hated running but I did it anyway. I once finished a triathlon and used to run multiple 10k races every year.

Today...not so much.

But I DO know how to train and I do it at least once a year. Every year I ride the MS-150 which is now called "Bike MS".

For those who don't know, it is a 150+ mile bike ride over 2 days to raise money for MS research. Our whole family does it. The training starts mid-November and I train until May when the ride happens.

The point isn't that I did a triathlon when I was younger or that I ride Bike MS now. The point is that I know what training is.

And we're currently training.

Oddly, I didn't plan on training. I just noticed it, pondered it, and confirmed without a doubt that we (we being Michelle and I) are definitely in training.

We had ice cream every night this week. That's rare for us these days. Ice cream isn't rare. We have that every now and then but we almost always go out because we rarely keep the stuff in our house.

A couple of days ago I realized that starting the middle of last week we were eating ice cream every night.

The thing that brought it all together for me was what happened last night.

Mandy came by and wanted to do some horse trading for some of my home-made Italian sausage. I didn't really need a horse so I told her to pick up a couple of pounds of Blue Bell pralines and cream. She brought back a half gallon. I handed it to my wife (with a spoon of course) and I went to the freezer and snagged a pint of mint chocolate chip.

We both sat in the living room and ate the ice cream. As we happily munched and slurped it occurred to me that we started our new routine last Tuesdays with Popsicles. Then Wednesday we had a pint of cookies and cream but it took us 2 days to finish it. Friday we got two pints and finished them off by Sunday night. Michelle got us another pint on Sunday and then Mandy brought the half gallon on Monday (or maybe Tuesday - there has been so much ice cream that it escapes me).

See - that's how it is when you train. You start out small and work your way up. Looking back on the ice cream consumption that is just what we were doing ... and then it hit me.

We're leaving on a 7 day cruise this weekend. Unlimited food. Unlimited deserts. It just wouldn't be prudent to hit something like that cold turkey. You need to work up to it.

The truly great thing about this is that it reminds me that this civilized life can't take the raw animal survival instincts away from us. For some reason ducks know they need to fly south before winter gets here. Dogs get all restless before a tornado strikes. Pregnant women get this nesting instinct thing just before a baby is born and apparently we fat 50 year olds instinctively know when it is time to eat ice cream and train for an upcoming vacation.

Alone Time

2010-08-05T09:22:00.000-07:00

I found myself alone this morning so I decided to get some HP work done. I went to the local college and got a study room in the library.

It's my first "alone time" since Barb died and when I realized I didn't have to be the tough guy with a clear mind providing support I found myself crying as if Tia had just died.

Students started walking by the window and looking in with concern on their faces.

Finally I had to put a sign on the door that said I flunked my summer mid-term. Now I'm just getting encouraging nods and knowing glances.

I knew it was coming, (part 1)

2010-07-17T19:06:00.000-07:00

You have two dogs living together you're going to have a fight. Watching Newbie I was confident it was coming...and it came.

It as a bit different than I thought. The puppy was in Maggie's face, barking up a storm. Maggie's tail was wagging and suddenly Newbie more or less jumped on Maggie's back. Apparently that was too much and it was on.

Michelle was in the middle of it (she as actually petting Maggie when it started). She grabbed Maggie and pulled her off but couldn't seem to stop the ruckus.

I jumped from my chair, grabbed Newbie, and stopped the fight ... for about a nanosecond. Before I knew it Newbie squirmed free, hit the floor and took a flying leap right back onto Maggie's back growling, barking and biting.

I reacquired control, took a couple of steps and put Newbie on his back in a submissive position. I got in his face, showed my teeth and scolded the dog then held him until his heart rate slowed down.

Newbie went to time out and we praised Maggie (who never got a hold of Newbie - not sure if that was Maggie's choice or not).

Now I know Newbie is much more aggressive than Tia and have no doubt that a point in time is coming where Maggie will have to teach the puppy about how the world really works.

It's unfortunate. I hope we can postpone it until a time when the vet office is open.

Dog Protocol

2010-07-17T17:48:00.000-07:00

After 13 days of withdrawal, Mandy's mother-in-law and my wife went to PetsMart where a rescue org was showing their clients.

They found 3 dogs. I quickly eliminated the long white haired one because it sheds. The second was a puppy (8 weeks I think) and I was apprehensive (but not so much to argue against). The third was a Yorkie that was a year and a half old. I agreed that the pup would probably make a good pet and she agreed to let me name him.

I chose the name "Newbie" because there was something about Newbie Yorkie that amused my simple (and slightly bent) mind.

Anyway, this post isn't about that. Not with a title like "Dog Protocol".

Here's the interesting thing. My daughter is on holiday in Colorado so we're babysitting the grand dog. As a quick history you probably need to know that Maggie (Mandy's dog) was quick to tear little chunks off of our last dog (15 year old and grumpy) from time to time. We assumed Maggie was a bit intolerant with other dogs.

So here's the protocol stuff. The pup did at least three things that we assumed would be followed by a swift lesson from Maggie. The first was growling at Maggie as she approached the dog bowl. The second was standing on the couch, towering over Maggie, who isn't allowed on the couch (Mandy's rules not ours but we enforce them) and barking when Maggie got close. Finally, in the the most significant and daring display of all, Newbie ran across the room and as she rocketed by Maggie she grabbed one of Maggie's ears and used it to slingshot to a stop.

Result number one (dog bowl growl) - Michelle and I were both in the middle of that one right away so if I say Maggie didn't "let him have it" it would be true but maybe because of the intervention of a higher power.

Result number two (taking a dominant stance from the couch). The first time this happened we stopped it right away but Newbie was up and down (perpetual motion, that one) and he seemed to like the game of getting into Maggie's face from above her. Each iteration Michelle and I did less and less to stop it. Maggie was wagging her tail and the fight never happened.

The third was the most amazing to me. The puppy was running around the house. Sometimes racing past Maggie who didn't seem to react much then it happened so quickly I could do little more than watch. Newbie shot past the chair and as he rocketed by Maggie he grabbed one of her ears and held on well enough to stop his momentum. The ear hold spun him around so he was nose to nose with Maggie as he stopped. He let go of the ear and Maggie began swinging her tail wildly and quickly stuffed her nose into his butt.

All I can say is that's now how it worked with Tia.

I'm thinking there must be some kind of "I'm just playing so don't kill me" smell that comes out of a puppy's butt. I've thought it over and that's the logical conclusion.

On the Subject of Meat...

2010-07-08T16:38:00.000-07:00

What did you do on your holiday weekend?

Besides killing the dog, I ground up meat. I started with over 60 pounds of brisket and 50 pounds of pork and made this.

42 pounds of it is Italian sausage. The rest is hamburger.

Go ahead you vegetarians, roll over in your graves (assuming you are dead or happen to be laying in your grave)

Doggie Respect?

2010-07-08T16:11:00.000-07:00

By now most of you know Tia died earlier this week.

Day before yesterday I grabbed Tia's bed from our bedroom and moved it into my office (because Michelle had taken the old one out and washed it). Prior to Monday - this was my babysitting status:

So Tia died and I moved the bed. Every day since Maggie (the one on the left looking at us with Satan's gaze) comes over for dogie day care but the routine is changed. Now, instead of coming into the office and crashing with Tia (I assume they do it so they can keep an eye on me and insure we won't bring yet ANOTHER dog here) she comes in for a quick interaction and leaves.

I hear her run around the house some and then it's quiet. When she's not outside I can find her in Tia's room (enclosed patio for you that aren't familiar) in the bed beside Tia's outside bed.

She doesn't hang out in the office with me anymore.

So that left me with two questions.

Was she hanging out with Tia while I had delusions of grandeur?

Would she rather be in here but was staying off Tia's bed out of respect for Tia's territory?

The second question is strange. Really strange (assuming you know Maggie).

Back in the day Maggie would take everything away from Tia. Her bed, her toys, her food and water. If Tia wanted to go to bed Maggie would literally block her access and if Tia tried to get by Maggie would beat the crap out of her. Really nasty beatings.

Over the last year or two, though, things have mellowed and the dogs had become quite good friends. Now if Tia is on the bed under my table (as in the picture above) Maggie would go somewhere else. Sometimes she would join Tia in bed (as in the above picture). Back in the day Maggie would ABSOLUTELY take the bed away from Tia and make her leave.

But she wouldn't get on the bed anymore. Wouldn't even sleep in my office. But why?

So...

Today (a few hours ago) I laid on the floor and called Maggie on to Tia's bed. She did the whole submissive thing (even peed on the floor a bit) but I kept insisting she come on the bed with me. Finally she did. I petted her and explained that Tia was dead and Maggie could sleep there now (like talking to a dog makes any sense). I scratched her a bit and then went back to work. Maggie got up and left the office.

You would think nothing changed but I just turned around and what did I see?

I have no idea. You tell me.

Putting The Dog Down

2010-07-06T08:20:00.000-07:00

We had this little dog for the last 15 years right up through yesterday. My daughter wrote a blog post that my sister read. My sister sent a little message of condolence. It was simple. All it said was:

I Just read on fb that you had to put Tia down and i wanted to tell you how sorry I am. She was a wonderful member of your family.
Love,
Vickie

Yesterday I was playing the role of the big strong man. Today, I'm finally alone for the first time and as I look over at the empty dog bed by the wall of my home office and consume a box of Kleenex bawling like a little girl, I realize I need to write a response. This is not a response to Vickie, it's really a letter to me about who I chose as a life partner.

Putting The Dog Down

I need to tell Vickie she was mistaken.

Frisky died after 12 years, we had Snoopy for 7 years, Cody for 9 and a number the black Labs all seemed to move away after two or three. With a duration of more than 15 years Tia was with us longer than any pet I've ever had and if one thing was ever true, it is this, you never put Tia down.

Mandy put her down. In her blog tribute to Tia Mandy reminds us that Tia wasn't the smartest or bravest animal on the planet and you have to admit. If you're a dog, that's kind of a put down.

I put that dog down. I bet a week never went by when I didn't remind her how stupid she was . I've cursed her for getting light brown hair on all of my dark blue suits. I've called her the dumbest animal on the face of the planet. I've told her natural selection was frustrated because we kept screwing with the natural order of things by keeping her alive. I started calling her peepers because of all the times she would get nervous, lose control of her bladder and give me an opportunity to remind you that small dogs can't be house broken. I've said she is the only dog on the face of the planet that was dumb enough be hit by a car twice. I've called her a wuss, accused her of faking her hearing loss and as one final insult I will say that for her to give unconditional love to someone who verbally abuses her like that, well that's monumental stupid.

Ever since HP sent me to work from home Tia has been right here sleeping in my office so she could be near me. For a decade and a half every time I was in the living room reminding her how little value she had she would run over and crawl in my lap as if to say:

"I think all these insults amuse you and I love you so much that nothing is better for me than making you happy so while you're at it, don't forget the one about me being afraid of, well, of everything. That one seems to perk you up."

Yes, I've put Tia down.

The vet put Tia down when she helped us end the pain that Tia was hobbling through every time she would struggle to get up and waddle to the door when Maggie would tell her you got home.

Yes. Mandy put Tia down. The vet put Tia down and I definitely put Tia down but Michelle, if you only remember one thing about that dog, remember this. In 15 years YOU never put Tia down.

When I was on a rant about the two inch spot on the floor resulting from someone scaring the dog you were Perry Mason pleading her innocence as you ran for the Folex and paper towels.

When Mandy would rant about how stupid the dog was for bristling as Maggie walked by you would grab Tia, protect her, and explain to Mandy that Tia was older and needed her space.

Tia was never wrong to you. You never saw her as being stupid or timid. You weren't angry that she shed on your clean cloths, you were just in the market for a lint roller.

You put blankets and beds everywhere she might happen to lay down. You ran the air conditioner on the patio, regardless of the cost, to make "Tia's Room" the coolest room in the house so the dog would be more comfortable.

In the final weeks when Tia felt horrible and couldn't eat, you managed to open at least one can of every kind of food in the pantry on the outside chance that Tia would be willing to ingest a teaspoon of that particular sustenance.

Put her down? Michelle you opened a can of green beans and she ate one (count it one) bean. Then, the next day you opened another can on the outside chance she would eat another bean (you got her to eat half a bean as I recall so you figured the can was a good investment).

These past few weeks I would wake up in the middle of the night and you would be on the floor with one hand on the dog because your touch would bring Tia some comfort in the turmoil of her last days. Nothing was more important to you than trying to love Tia half as much as Tia loved you (let's face it, though we could all out smart her, nobody could out love that stupid little mutt)
And the final day, understanding that Tia has been dependant on you her whole life and that Tia trusted you completely, you once again took the completely selfless route. When every vet office was closed for the holiday you made me get up way too early and help you search for a place that could help her.

When the vet told you treatment would be crazy expensive you didn't even blink. Later, when the vet told you her kidneys were gone, and that she would never experience another day when she didn't suffer, you did it again.

You wanted nothing more than to keep her with you forever, even if it meant sleepless nights on the floor and opening a can of peas to see if you could get Tia to eat one of those. You wanted to keep her but that wasn't the best thing for Tia so you did what would hurt you the most.

Nope. My analysis is complete and one thing is sure. You never put that dog down. You always lifted her up.

...and at no extra charge...A rant!

2010-07-02T09:18:00.001-07:00

Let me start with a couple pictures of my "done all by my self haircut"

Both are self portraits taken with my Nikon using a 18-200 zoom lens.

Now, just so we're clear this rant will not be about my new haircut. What I want to passionately discuss is the nature of using the on-camera flash with a bigger than small lens.

If you look at the bottom of these pictures you will see a dark place, kind of an arch of shadow, near the middle.

Here's what happens. The flash is right on the top of the camera. The lens pokes out far enough that it blocks the light and throws a shadow on the bottom of the picture. This happens mostly with three of my lenses; the 70-300 zoom, the 18-200 zoom, and my 10-24 mm ultra wide angle.

The best solution would be to point the flash at the ceiling and bounce the light on the subject (which would be me) but the built-in flash doesn't point at the ceiling.

The answer, then, is a new flash. I have chosen the Nikon SB-400 so I can bounce the flash if I need to and even if I don't, it sits high enough above the camera to eliminate that annoying "Expensive Lens" shadow.

This Time I'll Take Responsibility

2010-07-02T08:58:00.001-07:00

My mother loves to tell a story about when I was a wee little sprout. I don't remember it so I can only repeat it as hear-say.

Apparently I came home from school with a big chunk of my hair cut away. She asked me who cut my hair and I insisted I didn't know. After an appropriate amount of time sweating a true confession out of me I admitted that I was sitting sitting in a room when someone I didn't know ran into the room, cut a chunk out of my hair, and ran away.

As I understand the story, I never copped to the fact that perhaps I had something to do with the hair cut.

Now move forward with me, if you will, 40 or 45 years. You get to today and today I will stand in judgement taking full responsibility. Before I tell you all of it, let me give you some background.

Over the years the cost of a haircut has been steadily rising. I used to pay just under two dollars in my earliest memories. These days a haircut is a $15 or $20 deal. Even more if you want a "good" one.

Probably 5 or 6 months ago we were at Target and I noticed you could buy a set of barber clippers for $20. I remember thinking "Hey, that's about the price of a haircut" so I purchased a set.

My thinking was that if I had Michelle cut my hair every other time I could cover the cost of the clippers in less than two months.

My thinking was sound. As it turned out, I have learned I could have Michelle trim the hair up two times between "Real" haircuts and nobody would notice. I was at a point of getting a "real" haircut about every 3rd month.

Now it's July in Texas and July in Texas is HOT. I decided I needed a short haircut and with Tina's wedding behind us I really don't have any "public" times for months. I have been pondering an experiment where I put on the biggest guard (#9) and just do a buzz cut. How would that work?

Michelle has been hesitant and here I was are a full week from the time we were on the beach in Boston with Ajax and Tiki and my hair was too long and too hot.

So...

I took the clippers out in the back yard, took off my shirt, closed my eyes and 4 minutes (and another $20 saved) later I was in the shower getting rid the short pieces that might make me itch.

Here's what I did...

My Version of Joseph in the Prision

2010-07-02T06:20:00.000-07:00

So can anyone interpret dreams? I had one that lasted pretty much all night.

I'm wondering around a park and this brown duck is following me. All the other ducks at the park are white. Every now and then I almost step off a ledge (just a few feet) into the muddy water of a lake (but I never do) and realize I have to solve a data center problem.

I wake up thinking about the problem (and the duck). Then I go back to sleep and it all starts again. A while later I'm awake again thinking about a new data center problem (and the same duck).

What does that mean? Did God give me a vision?

Little Guy With A Bit Mouth - Part 2

2010-06-25T10:23:00.000-07:00

I walk back in to see that Dr Pepper brick wall lady is now blocking a new pair of people. The 30 something woman politely asks the angry wall if she can get by. The wall informs the nice lady that she's not moving until they fix the Dr Pepper.

As the confused 30 something woman is deciding whether to execute a beverage-less exit, I step in.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I ask, my voice more puzzled than angry "Do you own this store? Do you own this soda fountain? Did your parents fail to teach you not to bully others when you don't get your way?"

"I see you have a free refill cup there in your hand. Can I then assume that you are trying to destroy customer satisfaction for this establishment because you are angry that they can't provide your free drink fast enough? I bet if you asked any of the people you are blocking they would tell you they have no problem with Racetrac but that they think you are an obnoxious ass who doesn't fit well in society. Finally, darling, I would like to offer this bit of free advice. Fat people like you and me, we shouldn't be drinking that sugared stuff. You really should try the diet kind. Less chance of diabetes, less weight gain and most importantly, there won't be so much of you in the way when others are trying to move around the store. Think about it -- maybe Dr Pepper running out was divine intervention!"

Fire flashes in her eyes. She takes a step in my direction (fortunately opening up a hole giving soda access to two formerly blocked customers).

"You better step back, you son of a bitch, or I will take you down hard" she spits out.

I place both hands in my back pockets and reply.

"Really? We're going to do this 5th grade style? You're the playground bully and you're going to take me down hard? Well (pause for effect) that works for me. Tell you what, take your best shot and I promise I'll keep my hands behind me. I'm betting you move slow enough that this is going to be a non event".

As she reaches in her purse I hear my wife reminding me that I'm probably going to get shot some day and as I'm pondering how I should react if she comes out with a can of pepper spray she produces a cell phone.

"If you don't leave this store right now I'm going to dial 911" she threatens with a menacing grin.

"Do it. Please do it. I'm begging you! I can just hear the radio call now!"

"One Adam 12, One Adam 12, see the woman. Racetrac convenience store corner of Greenville and Bethany. Customer accused of trying to move a pile of crap out of the soda isle. Proceed code 20."

She looks shocked. "You don't believe me? You DON'T BELIEVE ME?"

(now as many of you know, my stories are typically not word-for-word accurate. I always try to capture the gist but also exercise a bit of creative license for entertainment value. I tell you this because I want you to understand that this next part, as unbelievable as it will seem, is absolutely true)

She actually dials the number. I see her fingers press a single digit followed by two presses of another digit and she puts the phone to her ear. I have to admit that I don't know if the phone was on or if she pressed the send button, but the thing she said made me think...well, judge for yourself...

"Hello, Police?" She stares straight into my eyes. "I'm at the Racetrac on Bethany and there is a man here being rude to me"

No kidding. She actually dialed, she actually said "Hello Police" and she actually reported that a man "was being rude" to her.

Sometimes truth is bigger than fiction. You just can't make this stuff up. I was so impressed by the "Hello Police, I'm at the Racetrac and there is a man being rude to me" that I just HAD to write this story.

Well, reader, we peaked. The confrontation pretty much fizzled from there. I suggested a police force that would give me a ticket for "being rude" might put her in the penitentiary for being stupid. I also offered that dialing 911 when there wasn't a true emergency might actually get one of us arrested and that even though I was a very busy guy, it would be worth the wait to see which one of us the police would be interested in.

About that time a store employee (who was hanging out to monitor the confrontation, much like the 5th grade kids gather to watch the bully beat up the nerd) suggested that even without a 911 call the police might be interested in the video from the isle blocking thing and suddenly wall lady remembered an appointment she was late for.

I followed her to her car, begging her to stay and watch me leave in hand-cuffs but alas, she got in her dilapidated PT Cruiser and left (to my best recollection - without a Dr Pepper refill)

Life. A collection of strange and wonderful stories. Sum up all the bad parts and little gems like this make it totally worth it. I'm just saying.

Little Guy With a Big Mouth - Part 1

2010-06-23T14:26:00.000-07:00

Remember that Jimmy Buffet song, Margarettaville? It starts out with "It's nobody's fault" and progresses through "It could be my fault" to "It's my own damn fault".

The "Little guy with a big mount" reference takes me back to my school years when I used to get picked on a lot. Now I'm not saying that anyone deserves to get punched but I expect I could have kept the old yapper shut more and been a touch more invisible. Had I done that I probably wouldn't have gotten punched so much.

It happened again yesterday. Well, not the getting punched part but I was definately the little guy with the big mouth.

It's rare now. It's hard for me to be the little guy when I'm just so darn big but this woman, she was EASILY twice my size (sideways anyway). The confrontation was...well, I guess it was "special".

First you need some background. I'm at the Racetrac. Now for those of you who don't know, Racetrac is much like a Mini Mart or a 7-11. It's a convenience store / gas station. They are running a wonderful promotion where you spend $6.99 on a 22 oz insulated mug and they let you refill it for free all summer long (I've refilled mine 93 times so far - I'm shooting for the Guniess book). Anyway, that's all the background you need.

So I go into Racetrac to fill my cup. I round the corner to get to the soda fountain with my spiffy "fill it as much as you want" cup. I'm a happy guy about to get yet another free soda.

To my immediate right there is a woman with a child filling up a drink. Directly in front of me there is this battleship of a woman standing with her hands on her hips. One elbo is in the corn chips, the other is about 7 inches past the line completed by the woman/child combo filling the drinks.

I notice the arm with the elbow in the corn chips has a "free refill" cup in it (everyone is doing it).

In my judgement a quick arm retraction followed by a half step to the right and I can scoot right by and get to the diet coke so with a big smile I say those magic words "Excuse me please!"

Wall woman pushes her arms out another inch or two, furrows her brow and states "I'm standing here waiting becasue they are out of Dr. Pepper".

"So you are..." I respond, not yet aware that the stand isn't a waiting stance but an agressive attempt to block me from the isle "...so can I get by?".

"I'm not moving until they change the thing and I can get some Dr Pepper" she states boldly.

"Let me get this straight. You are not going to let me get to the soda machine unless or until you get them to change the Dr Pepper surup?" I ask (still polite but now with puzzled face instead of a smile).

"I'm not moving" she states and glares at me.

In an obvious gesture I roll my eyes, back track around the corn chip rack, down the cookie isle, past the donut dispenser and the front counter, around the corner to the other side of the soda machine where although I can't reach the caffine free diet coke, I can get to the other kind.

I fill my cup, pop the lid on and start through the hole to the right of the Dr Pepper protest lady (the hole vacated now that the woman with the little kid have vacated) and as I do the human road block does a studder step to try and block my way.

Decision point. I could accelerate one step, get by and be on my way or I could stop and do the little guy with a big mouth thing.

Surprise! I do the accelerated step narrowly miss the approaching elbow but making it by. I go out to my truck, put the new refill in my cup holder and then I stop and reflect a moment.

The big mouth guy took over. I closed the door on my SUV and headed back in.

Tune in tomorrow for the exciting conclusion to our exciting story (and post a comment if you are amused so far).

Death & Reserection

2010-06-22T13:10:00.000-07:00

Death

Either you are terrified by it or you are not paying attention. I know this is about you because you are reading this. It's about your computer. Imagine you are creating a document and FLASH! The computer screen goes dark.

You reboot. It runs about 90 seconds and blanks out again. You never get to the point where you need to log on. It always blanks out and you can't get in anymore.

That's what happened to me Thursday at 4:50 p.m. As most of you would, my mind goes straight to "what did I lose". It had been just over a week since my last major backup. I had some minor backup files on a memory stick and a portable hard drive but my mind was stuck on what I might have lost.

Later that night I discovered I could interrupt the boot process, get to a command prompt, and copy a file or two before the machine augered in. After many re-boots I managed to snag all the files that were not current in my backup.

I was lucky (mostly because I had backups because of past times when I lost it all) but my computer was still just as dead.

Resurrection

The next day I started the task of getting to root cause. The technical details should be boring for you so we will jump right to the bottom line. It was the video card that died. Here's why...

There is this fan on the video card that keeps it cool. The fan stopped turning. The board would get hot and shut down. When it shut down the screen would blank out.

In finding it I had to blow on the card the whole time the computer was coming up. Doing that I accomplished two things. First, I got the computer to stay up long enough to backup the rest of my files. Second I got such a head rush that I nearly fell down.

I looked things up and found that I had 24 days left on my warranty. After 2 and a half hours on the phone with a guy from India who didn't want to start with a solution and was confused by big words like "data buss" and "cooling fan" I finally got HP to ship a new card. They would ship the card next day but unfortunately I had to wait 2 weeks for a tech to come put it in.

Why, you might ask, would I need a tech to put it in when I removed it (and the memory and many other components) during my troubleshooting efforts? I would ask that too but they wanted to charge me for the card if I installed it myself. If their guy puts it in they paid for everything (so they get to pay their guy for a house call).

So will I accept two weeks without a computer while I waited for the guy? Perhaps a mere mortal would but for me, it wasn't the right option.

I figured out that all I needed to do was blow on the card for 2 weeks the way I blew on it during my full backup. So that's what I'm doing...

The case is on the desktop with the case open (heat rises) so I can blow on the video card.

...and this is how I blow in it (I didn't like the head rush that almost made me fall down).

Actually - The problem was he didn't talk enough

2010-06-20T08:53:00.000-07:00

I have to do a bit of a self reprimand here. I've done a post of facebook every now and then but I've been terrible at writing posts for a while.

Now I've got some excuses and some aren't really all that bad but I'll not bore you with them. Well, I'll tell you about one of them. About a year ago I purchased a new "home" computer (my old that I got in 2001 one had died). About that time HP asked me to move out of the office and work from home. As it worked out my new "home" computer became a work computer.

Well the other day my home computer died and I had to set up another configruation for a work comptuer. As it happened I've been looking at tablet PCs and I found just the right one so I purchased it and now I'm setting it up a a "Totally Personal Computer". No work stuff.

I'm also setting it up outside the office so it can't get sucked into the work ifrastructure.

Hopefully it will support my new goal to write a minimum of 3-5 posts per week.

I expect you can't expect many readers if you don't write...

Yours for only $25,000

2010-04-29T13:01:00.000-07:00

Some folks go to Wal-mart or a bike shop and end up with the same thing. Me, I save up $25,000 and build a little workshop where I can build it myself, almost for free (I spent about a dollar and a half on clamps, another dollar on the rubber pad). What I ended up with was a stereo for my bicycle (because everyone needs tunes on the bike).

When my family rides a bike it isn't a quick lap around the block. A short ride is 8 or 9 miles. A long ride is more like 60 miles. That means a bike ride takes hours. I've been thinking for a while that miles on the bike would be nicer with FM Radio or listening to my CDs.

Here's my solution.

It started with an idea and a piece of sheet metal. I fashioned a bracket that looked like this:

I mount the bracket to the bike using a couple of hose clamps ($1.42 worth).

Then I put wire an old bungee to the bracket (note the holes in the top for the bungee). This will hold the music machine on the bike in a way that will allow me to take it off easily.

Add a set of portable stereo speakers (with volume control of course - first class all the way)

I put in a rubber pad so things don't all vibrate as we hit the rough parts of the road...

Add the FM Radio / MP3 Player (this one is a Creative Labs Zen):

Hold it in place with the bungee, wire it up (a big job of plugging the speakers into the Zen):

...and you end up with a sweet ride with a GPS, FM Radio, and 8 gigabytes of classic rock to get me down the road.

When I took my test drive I pushed the play button and REO Speedwagon started singing "Keep Pushing On" to me. I expect I will stop at that big hill just prior to the finish line on Sunday, find that song, and put it on repeat for the trek up that last hill (when my legs are rubber and I'm breathing hard). It will take me past the finish!

Have you made your MS 150 donation to my little daughter? If you want to support me in my ride (while listening to tunes and sweating profusely because I'm fat) please use this link...

http://main.nationalmssociety.org/site/TR?px=5987570&fr_id=13371&pg=personal

Unplanned Vacation Stop

2010-04-14T13:40:00.000-07:00

They start their day just like we do. Sometimes they are really upbeat anticipating another of the little things. Maybe a grandchild just took some first steps. Maybe UPS was bringing an eagerly anticipated package today with a tool or a new cook book.

They get dressed like they always do. They start working through their task list like they always do. Right up until it happens the day is routine.

Less than a dozen hours later a complete stranger meets them for the first time. The stranger notices the little things like the fact they got a hair cut earlier in the day. Judging by the way they are dressed the stranger could speculate on what kind of a day they had planned, but speculation is all the stranger has.

The stranger's day was interrupted by them. It is the cause of another unplanned late night followed by an early morning. The stranger knows that tomorrow will be one of those days we all endure from time to them when we are running a quart low on sleep.

The stranger, however, doesn't mind. The hour and a half they had together started with intense focus on the task at hand and finishes right after the harvested organ is placed in the container for shipment. The stranger thanks them, right out loud, for the kindness and forethought that made the whole procedure possible. It's a thank you from the heart knowing that in less than 24 hours a completely different stranger will have the single most horrible nightmare of THEIR life end because of this precious gift that cost everything.

Unexpected, tragic, generous, loving. All at the same time.

As the stranger drives away they ponder the cloths, the hair cut, the unknown variables of appointments missed and the extremes of the family grief that will never be known. Powerful emotions that are held in a reservoir behind a dam of respect for this angel that had the presence to think of others before it was too late.

When real organ donation is witnessed it is a powerful, powerful thing. Perhaps a prayer of thanks for the giver would be a good use of your time right about now.

Apparently She Wasn't a Single Mom

2010-04-04T11:11:00.000-07:00

We have this nest right outside our window. Every year Michelle enjoys watching the cycle. Earlier I posted a picture as a bird sat on the nest and hid from me as I tried to take a picture.

Today she had a visitor. Apparently she isn't alone in this project.

Much Better Than It Looks

2010-04-04T11:03:00.000-07:00

Here's what it looks like when you throw a belt and then drive on it a while.

Normally I suppose this would be a bad thing but we got lucky. Michelle's tire blew on the way home but it managed to do it as she turned on the last street coming toward our house (so she was going quite slow)...But that wasn't the good part.

The good part was we had a warranty and although the tire was pretty warn Discount tire gave us a 50% pro-rate and we got replacement tires (2 of them) for about $35 each. Sometimes bad luck is still good.

This might be fun!

2010-03-28T16:08:00.000-07:00

Here's a new feature. Try and guess what this is a picture of! Do your entry and in a couple of days I'll post a perspective that might help your guess.

Maybe THIS way I can get some comments.

I Guess It Used to be Green

2010-03-27T17:41:00.000-07:00

It's finally warming up in Texas and I'm doing out door things again. I played two rounds of disc golf this week. I threw 5 (count em, five!) discs in the water (very windy on the Allen course this weekend) and Michelle walked 5, in the Walk MS.

Then this afternoon I got back out in the shop. My old truck is still there so I started working on it again. I finished sanding the bumper, pulled off the emblems and took out the head lights. Next I started sanding. As you can see, red isn't the original color (no real surprise there - red wasn't a color option in 1954.

Earth Hour

2010-03-26T13:30:00.000-07:00

I got an email today. It said the following:

Hi Everyone

Earth Hour 2010 will take place on Saturday March 27, 2010 from 8:30 pm to 9:30 pm, wherever you are in the world. This is the invite for you to do your part by turning off your lights and minimizing energy usage during Earth Hour.
For more check it out at http://www.earthhour.org/homepage.aspx?o=ignore

Enjoy the darkness!!

I wrote right back! Here's my response!

Seriously? Didn't you take any physics? Energy can't be consumed, only converted. The way I see it, energy is bored most of the time and it's our job to entertain it. Imagine spending 2.4 billion years tied up in a hydro-carbon state and totally bored. They dig you up. Still bored. Truck ride to the hopper. Still bored. Loaded on the train. Still bored (but granted all this is better than the 2 billion years in the ground). Now you get to the coal fired power plant and the good stuff starts.

You get to be converted to heat and then excite some bored water molecule so much that it converts from liquid to gas. The water then "pays it forward" by spinning a turbine and helping some other poor schmoe out in the ether get to be converted into electricity, travel across a wire, converted again into light, then shot back out into the ether. Excitement for the energy in the magnetic induction. Excitement for the water molecule. Excitement for the kinetic energy in the turbine bearings getting converted to heat because of friction.

I'm not making this up. In physics they even talk about molecules getting excited as thing heat up because they get to move around more.

You want to do the earth a favor? For crying out loud! The whole darn thing is made of matter and matter is made up of energy (just ask those folks who split the atom). Do the earth a favor by doing your part (even though your part is small) in offering the earth a little excitement!

Get out there and convert some hydro-carbon!

Photography Lesson #3 - Depth of Field

2010-03-22T16:23:00.000-07:00

Michelle and I are working our way through a photography class together. This assignment was about playing with lighting and shooting a still life. I came up with three things worth writing about in doing this assignment. My first one is about depth of field.

This is essentially the same picture. I had the camera on a tripod and took the picture with a small aperture (F22) and a large one (F1.8). This made for different shutter speeds but the depth of field change makes it a completely different picture.

This first picture (to me, anyway) is a photo of a the front of my pickup with some tools in front of it. My eye goes right to the Chevy emblem, then to the yellow sander.

Aperture is f/22

I want to show you the same picture with different depth of field. When I look at this picture the pickup more or less goes away. Sure, it's still there but because if it out of focus my eye goes straight to the sander (probably because it's yellow) and from there to the dust mask. The picture becomes something different. It is now a still life picture of tools.

Aperture is f/1.8

Your choices in depth of field have everything about what your picture becomes. I can make you look at different things by using focus, but only if I'm controlling depth of field. When everything is in focus other factors decide where you look.

If you're convinced depth of field is all about controlling where people look, you are not completely right. Depth of field done correctly will make you look where I want you to look but sometimes, when you turn all the control over to the camera you can create a picture that can only be described as "bad". Let me show you what I mean...

If you look at this picture it is just annoying. At first glance you might not even realize why. The composition is wrong because there is too much stuff in the frame and it isn't arranged correctly. As a result the picture is cluttered in confusing. That is annoying but is not as the focus problem.

Your eye is drawn to the yellow sander but it's not in focus. The whole front row is fuzzy and annoying. The dust mask in the back is kind of in focus but even it is off a bit. I half pressed the shutter button 3 times (making it choose different spots to focus on). Ultimately when I took the picture I had let it "choose" to focus on the stripping tool in the right rear corner.

Look at the enlarged version of this picture. The stripping disk is in great focus but it's such a minor part of the composition it does nothing but make this bad picture worse.

In summary, the learning point here is that you can use depth of field to control what folks are looking at in your photographs. Done correctly it's a nice tool for turning your pictures into whatever you want them to be but done wrong it can make your pictures really bad.

In Case You're Wondering...

2010-03-07T16:13:00.000-08:00

Kroger had pork picnics for 88 cents a pound (limit 2). Fiesta had pork butt for 77 cents a pound (limit 3). I read the ad and kept seeing the word "Sausage". I'm down to my last 5 pounds of Italian.

We got all 5 (2 from Kroger, 3 from Fiesta). Total weight (still in the package) was 45 pounds. Michelle and I boned it out and cut it into chunks that will fit in my meat grinder. The loss was 13.3% and we just put 39 pounds of "ready to grind" pork into the freezer.

This means we're going to have lots of sausage at the Crawfords so for a limited time I'll play "let's make a deal". I will trade 2 pounds of my home made sausage (Italian, Breakfast, Polish, Bratwurst or William Tell Polish) for a whole chicken (don't care how small or big) which I will donate to the food bank.

Those of you who have tried my sausage - stop drooling on yourselves. Those of you who haven't tried it...this window is rare. People who try my sausage often ask to buy some. I always give the same answer:

"I don't sell it. If I sell the stuff it stops being a hobby and starts being work" That means this offer is not only a limited time - it's finite in nature. You snooze you lose.

Photography Lesson #2 - Using Shutter Speed

2010-03-06T14:11:00.000-08:00

Use The Shutter to Show Motion

I suppose most photographers already get that to freeze motion in a picture like this you must use a fast shutter speed. In this case I cranked the ISO up to 6400, put on my low light prime lens and took the shot at one five hundredth of a second.

1/500th second @ f1.8

There is another technique where you can use shutter speed for on the other end of the scale - showing motion.

Last weekend Michelle and I went out on a photo expedition. We were taking pictures of a windmill (see Photography Lesson #1 - The Magic 15). While we were shooting a very gentle breeze was blowing. The blades on the windmill were lazily turning at a speed of maybe a single revolution every half minute to a minute. By shooting a picture of them with a 1/125th shutter speed all motion was gone:

1/125th Second - f8 - ISO-200

I then decided I wanted a picture that showed some blade motion. To do this I needed a much slower shutter speed. As it turned out, there was far too much light during the bright part of the day to get the effect I wanted. In a situation like this you could use a .9 neutral density filter which does not change any of the colors but adds 4 f-stops of "darkness" to the picture. Using such a filter would have allowed the shutter speed I needed but in this case I didn't have one so I had to wait until the sun was starting to set (and there was less direct sunlight).

1/10 second - f32 - ISO 100

As you can see from this picture, changing the shutter speed to a tenth of a second gives the impression that the blades are turning. I hand held the camera for the 1/125th exposure above but needed a tripod to shoot the tenth of a second shutter speed.

Increasing the time the aperture is open will suggest even more motion. In this final picture, the shutter speed is twice as long (1/5th second) as it is in the picture above:

Photography Lesson #1 - The magic 15

2010-03-05T21:05:00.000-08:00

The Magic 15 Minutes before Sunset

I took this photo at 5 p.m. on February 27, 2010. The exposure is correct and the composition isn't bad but something amazing can happen if I just wait 39 more minutes prior to snapping the picture.

At noon on any given day sunlight must pass through around 6 miles of the earth's atmosphere to get to your subject. There are two points in a day at sunrise and sunset when the light must travel horizontally through literally thousands of extra miles of atmosphere and, more importantly, the light must pass through atmosphere that is close to the planet surface where there are more air-borne particles.

As the light comes across the horizon, these atmospheric particles filter the light and the result is a change in color that photographers call warming. The difference in your picture is amazing.

Look at the full size copies of each picture by clicking on them and notice the difference. Same camera in roughtly the same postion. One picture at 5:00, the second at 5:39. By 6:00 it was too dark to take a good picture.

The next time you are shooting a landscape or natural scene, consider not only the composition and exposure of your picture. Think about using the magic 15 minutes to give it a tryly unique and appealing look.

If I Lived in Wyoming

2010-02-26T12:41:00.000-08:00

This is a post I wrote for "1000 Pounds of Meat" (http://1000poundsofmeat.blogspot.com/). I don't have any followers of that blog so I'm doing an echo post on this blog (where perhaps someone will actually read my words).

---------------------

I grew up in Wyoming. The state is clean and pure. The populace consists of really good people. Most are friendly. Nearly all are honorable. Many have a great deal of pride.

If I lived in Wyoming I wouldn't be as concerned about having my car break down on some long lonely highway (and trust me, there is PLENTY of long lonely stretches of highway in Wyoming). If you break down on the road in Wyoming someone will stop and help you. It's that simple. It's simple because stopping to help is the right thing to do.

I remember one time at the top of Togwottee Pass I got a bit careless (I say it that way trying not to expose the utter stupidity of my action) and buried our car in a snowbank. In mere minutes I met a man with a pick-up truck and shortly after that we were attaching a chain from his hitch to the frame of my car. As he pulled me out of the ditch he asked me about what happened and I told him the story. He looked at my shirt (which proudly announced me as "a Wyoming Native") for a moment and then his eyes met mine.

"Well buddy, I'm happy to help you out" he explained and then went on "but I'm a bit embarrassed to see you wearing that shirt".

People from Wyoming typically speak the simple, basic truth. My wife (who insisted I not do what ultimately put the car in the snow bank) and I often fondly remember that day and the unknown man from Wyoming.

If I lived in Wyoming I would want to be just like him.

If I lived in Wyoming I would have a great deal of pride about my state and the people who call it home. I would hold my head high knowing I lived in a state where we respect those around us.

If I lived in Wyoming I would be surrounded by people who work an honest day, aren't shy about standing up for what we believe in, and never stood so tall that we can't reach down to give a hand to those in need.

If I lived in Wyoming I would be pretty much convinced that I was surrounded by folks who could outperform just about ANY Texan.

If I lived in Wyoming and learned that the Texans were currently 82.5 pounds of meat ahead of the folks from my state in food pantry donations it would really bother me.

If I lived in Wyoming I expect I would be doing something about that. I sure would.

You Have To Wonder

2010-02-23T12:02:00.000-08:00

Back in the day if something like the Toyota problems happened followed by a government investigation you wouldn't think much about it.

Today, with GM and Chrysler more or less owned by the US Government, a congressional probe into Toyota borders on inappropriate. If you are the major shareholder of the biggest competition shouldn't you disqualify yourself as having a conflict of interest?

Can a government that is grabbing controlling interest in our Banking, Auto and Health industries remain impartial when dealing with their business competition?

I'm not taking a stand here, just asking the question...

I think I'm Done Buying Lenses

2010-02-15T08:12:00.000-08:00

The snow came on Thursday and more or less shut Dallas down. It was unfortunate becasue I had ordered a new Nikkor 18-200 mm lens that would have been quite useful for my pictures of the snow. The lens was stuck in Mesquite so my snow pictures were produced using what was left in the bag.

But 2 minutes ago the doorbell rang and my newest (and likely last for quite some time) lens finally arrived.

I think I've got the range covered now. I now have 4 Nikon lenses to make my D90 a happy camera. Here's what I ended up with:

10 - 24 mm Ultrawide (for landscapes and tight areas)
18 - 200 mm (for nearly everything else so I can carry 2 lenses and cover it all)
70 - 300 mm (for those far away shots when I need a really long lens)
35 mm (my f1.8 prime lens for low light shots).

The great thing about this collection is it will support "photo outings with my best friend Michelle". She has a D40 body and I've got a D90 (come to think about it, that's about right in real life too). The lenses fit on both camera bodies so we can both hit nearly every focal length at the same time with this collection.

Now all I need is a flash with better control than those built into the camera...

Well, between the snow storm and the NBA All Star game I've added over 5 gigabytes of pictures. Maybe I could use another hard drive too.

I Really Are Smarter Than This

2010-02-07T13:55:00.000-08:00

A short time ago I upgraded my operating system to Windows 7.

No big deal really but when I did my POP3 mail client went away (Vista has one, Windows 7 does not). As a result I've been struggling (as much as one can struggle with such things) with the task of getting my personal mail. Ultimately I ended up doing it online in a web window.

Today, as I was using Outlook to read my work email on my personal machine it hit me. It's my copy of Outlook (yes, I purchased it with real money out of my personal bank account) and it's perfectly capable of getting messages from both Exchange servers AND POP3 servers.

I added my two personal mail addresses to my profile and what do you know - I have access to my mail.

Sheesh. I'm actually a bit embarrassed that it took me this long to figure it out.

Third Third

2010-02-06T12:09:00.000-08:00

For a while now I've believed our lives are divided into thirds. The first third is typically self centered. We're children growing up. We consume and expect others to provide for us.

The second third has a family focus. We get married, we have children and our focus is all about providing for the family.

What we decide to focus on during that last third often defines us and might just answer the real question about who we are.

For some, the third third puts them back into the first third. Hopefully they would have outgrown the part that expects others to provide for them but many people jump back into self service after the kids are grown and out the door.

Personally, I believe the third third should be about service to others.

By the time you reach 50 you have some amazing things going on in your life. You are likely quite skilled in something, probably skilled in more than one thing, after all - you've had half a century to learn things.

There is a good chance that your financial burden got lighter as the kids left the nest and started to pursue their second third so you have a nicer cash flow situation than you ever had before. I can still recall the wonderful pressure release as the burden of responsibility was lifted from us. In this crazy world where jobs are going away faster than elected officials lose their common sense, I was more than a little concerned about the impact of job loss on my ability to provide.

After the wedding of my youngest I sat back, took stock of my life and realized that if necessary we could go back to the simple life Michelle and I lived at age 22 (and trust me, that one was MUCH cheaper). Better than that, I knew that choosing less rat-race, less pay, and less productivity wouldn't hurt anybody.

You also suddenly find yourself with extra time. By the time you start the third third you've likely forgotten that there even IS such a thing as extra time. Twenty five years of basketball practice, meal preparation, "do your homework", "take a bath, it's almost bed time", and other such time consumers leaves scant time for your spouse, much less your self or volunteer efforts.

So here I am in the third third. My wife and I are using the resources God trusted us with to help others in a volume unprecidented in my lifetime. I have time to serve non-profit organizations in capacities where I can donate that skill set I've spent the last half decade building.

I have the time and motivation to start efforts like 1000 pounds of meat, all the while pondering what I can do to make the world better 10 years from now when I retire.

I may be a bit too fat and I don't remember things if I don't write them down but that said, it's looking like the third third is going to be a hoot!

I Really Need To Sell Some Pennies!

2010-02-02T07:27:00.000-08:00

"So, if it wasn't on sale, how much would those honey glazed spiral sliced hams cost?" I asked.

"Typically we charge between $3.59 and $3.99 a pound" the meat guy responded.

"It's on. It's SO on" I thought to myself...

Michelle was making chicken. If I need to apologize for insulting your mom, consider this an apology. I'm sure your mom made good fried chicken, but it isn't as good as when Michelle makes it. Nobody else does it as well. It doesn't mean yours is bad - it just means mine is better.

Anyway she was making chicken so I went to the store to get some potatoes (otherwise, what do you put under the gravy?). While I was there I noticed a little sign by a cooler of spiral sliced hams that said 79 cents a pound.

Upon further examination I noticed there was none of that "One per customer with $20 additional purchase" stuff on there.

"Could this be right?" I thought to myself? "Nope. It can't be right" I decided, and I went to talk to the meat man.

Well, as it turned out there were no limits and there were 10 butt portion hams (about 10 or 11 pounds each) in the display. I grabbed a cart and I put 10 of the hams in my cart, bought them, took them home, froze them, and delivered them to the food bank the next day.

So now I'm thinking I snagged $359 worth of ham for a bit over $80 and they probably refilled that meat counter. My next thought was "I've sold one of those pennies so I have $30.. "

It was then it occurred to me. I really need to sell some more pennies!

I Created a New Blog

2010-01-31T12:49:00.000-08:00

I have a new toybox this year (it looks like this).

I've created a blog (http://jimstoybox.blogspot.com/) where I'll write about what's going on in the shop.

Why Can't They Figure This Out

2010-01-31T11:32:00.000-08:00

It happened again at church. It always happens at church so the fact that it happened isn't really that special but for some reason I pondered it a bit more today. It isn't just at church. It happens all over the place but it happens plenty, maybe most at church so I'll use that as the example.

The service ends. The auditorium is dismissed. Everyone gets up and heads out.

Our church is big so there are probably 3 (maybe 4 - I didn't count) isles people use to get out of the main auditorium. We stood, stepped into the isle...and stood there. After a bit I looked around at the other isles. One was scooting along at a decent clip. Another was moving, moving slowly mind you, but moving. Ours was more or less stopped.

I found my self doing a process analysis trying to determine what made the difference. All the isles seemed to be the same size and it didn't take long to understand that our isle had some folks from the last row on the left that realized they knew/liked some folks from the right side of the last row. Both groups came out, noticed each other, and stopped to have a warm and friendly social session.

Key word is "stopped".

Our church has an enormous (I'm talking 15 yards deep enormous) area behind the seats where folks could stand without any obstruction to the flow of people. Had these folks in the last row managed to take 11 steps the whole isle would have been moving. Instead, they chose to save those eleven steps and stop everyone else in that third of the church from going anywhere.

Eventually the other isles all cleared out and people from our isle started going through the rows of seats to another isle so they could get moving again as the happy gabbers continued their motion halting catch up conversation.

As I cleared the trek across the row and up another isle I was pondering the fact that we never teach people the auditorium clearing process. We never explain that there are hundreds of square yards of space in the back that I assume was put there to prevent such artery clogging situations. Maybe the people just didn't know.

We were going through the first set of auditorium doors as I pondered the fact that the people flow was so obvious to me and wondered if these other people knew and didn't care of didn't know. I considered the fact that I actually do process improvement as part of my profession and tried to balance that against a nagging voice that suggested that some folks might be so self involved that they can't notice that they are creating a situation of inconvenience for literally hundreds of other people rather than take 11 steps.

As I processed these thoughts I reached the second set of double doors and noticed another "clot" of probably 8 or 9 people blocking 4 of the 9 doors. As we slowly moved forward toward the 4 doors that were still unblocked I saw that one of the 9 folks blocking the 4 doors was on her cell phone. As I slowly passed I heard say "You can't miss us. We're standing right in front of the doors on the left side. We'll stay right here until you find us..."

Quickly my analysis of the auditorium people flow dynamic changed from process analysis to a new stream of consciousness pondering the true dividing line between ignorance and stupidity.

You Gotta Try This!

2010-01-30T08:01:00.000-08:00

It came to me in my sleep last night. The political / economic environment is offering an unprecedented investment opportunity with a massive return that is more or less guaranteed.

Typically investors keep the investment opportunities with guaranteed massive returns to themselves but when I woke up this morning I was comfortable with my belief that sharing this approach won't erode my chance to dramatically increase the value of MY money, even if you choose to increase the value of YOUR money doing the same thing.

Shortly after the stock market crashed, I sold some property and put $22,000 into mutual funds. It made my wife nervous because everyone was trying to run away from stock but I figured the market had already crashed and the right time to buy is when everyone else wants to sell. It's less than a year later and my $22,000 investment is worth right at $30,000! I made over 30% in less than a year. Crazy gains (the best of my life) yet this thing I came up with last night promises an even better return (and would you believe at less risk?)

Before I can give you the exact plan you need a little background.

This is my second pass through screwed up economic times. My first one was in the 80's and although it wasn't as severe (on paper) as times are now, it was significant. We did the whole "lose your jobs, lose your house, struggle to get by" thing back then and it was about the same time we were getting new babies.

I remember worring about the babies while living on a anorexic budget that gave Michelle and I $14.50 a month for "discretionary and entertainment. I remember driving a $150 car that we called "the egg" (because it looked like one). It was an American Motors Pacer should have been embarrassing but it was transportation and it got me from my meager 2 bedroom apartment in the "white trash" part of town to my job that paid less than a sixth of what we make now.

You would think that $14.50 (not just fourteen dollars mind you, and the extra 50 cents had value when that's all you've got for a whole month of "date nights") would be impossible as an amount that had to cover a whole month of fun and games. Actually, in my memory, it was quite the opposite. We have fond memories of waiting with excitement for 50 cent night at the dollar theater when we would put the can of coke, a candy bar, and a box of Cracker Jack into Michelle's purse and have a romantic evening together that set us back less than two dollars. (We learned you can do one of those every week on the month and still have enough left for an intimate dinner together if you work off the dollar menu).

Now it is decades later. The kids are all grown and married. We're done paying for school projects, college expenses and weddings. We've reached that magical time when our money is ours and we have some extra to invest. As a result I spend a bit-o-time pondering possible investments (which is why I came up with this one - and it's a doosey).

Follow these steps:

Figure out how much you can afford to leverage this month (you need to do this quickly because the economy could turn and spoil the opportunity) and get it out of the bank in $100 dollar bills. If you can only afford one it will work but if you can come up with four it will yield quadruple results (and don't think for a second I got past quadruple without the help of a spell checker).
Put each $100 bill in an envelope.
Seal each envelope.
Search your memory and come up with the names of some folks who are struggling through the current tough times the way I did back in the 80's. People who just don't have anything left at the end of the month. Folks who are a bit long on stress and a bit shot on joy. If you can't think of any ask your friends or your preacher (there are plenty of them out there - they aren't hard to find).
Write that person's name on one of the envelopes.
Give the envelope to someone else and have it delivered to the person who's name is on the envelope.

Bingo! Instant massive return on your money. If you can scrape up just one envelope worth of investment it will INSTANTLY turn into a crazy winfall. The person you gave it to could no more scrape up an extra hundred than you could come up with another million. Think of the value of that envelope in their hands compared to what it's worth to you. Now THAT's a return on investment. No problem with annual yields. No tax implications on the capital gains. No concerns about loss of principal. Just instant and unprecidented leverage.

Well?

What are you waiting for? Go get some envelopes!

Do Your Password Right

2010-01-29T15:32:00.000-08:00

Don't use your birthday. Don't use something about your kids. Whatever you do, don't use 12345 (or asdfjkl;) becasue the folks on the dark side know all those passwords.

Don't use a word I can find in a dictionary. The folks on the dark side will encrypt a dictionary and do a bit compare to your encripted password, offset into the dictionary and read the word. (and they will do it with dictionaries in other languages too).

You've heard the stuff. Use lots of characters. Use some upper case, some lower case. Put numbers and symbols in it. That's how to do a good password...BUT WAIT!

Those "good" passwords are hard to remember, right?

Nope. If it's hard to remember you did it wrong. Do it like this:

amac=bIw2bm

There's a "good" password. It has capital letters, lower case letters, symbols, numbers. The whole shooting match. Hard to remember? Nope. Not if you think of it like this:

all men are created equal but I want to be more

It's the same password. Sure, I used an equal sign rather than the word and the number 2 rather than the word "to" but I can remember the sentence. So use the first letter of every word but substitute the symbols for the words.

You can get all kinds of good passwords this way. Use jokes:

Jbyapdmtao2gu (Just becasue you are paranoid doesn't mean they aren't out to get you)
edhhdbadwabthawe (Every dog has his day but a dog with a broken tail has a weak end)

Use a phrase:

tmbibfiwi@ (thin may be in but fat is where it's at)
#yf&/ywbdtwa` (pound your fist and slash your wrist but don't talk with an accent)

Or alter words you can remember easily:

S1dne? (Sidney)
- Ok, using a question mark for the word "why" is a stretch but you'll remember
Nebr@sk@ (I shouldn't have to tell you this one)

Anyway. Use symbols as words (=, #, &, and the ever popular ^ (that last one is a carrot). Use sentences for the letters. Capatalize where it makes sense and you will end up with a password you can remember and the people on the dark side can't figure out!!

How Did We Get So Dependant?

2010-01-27T16:36:00.000-08:00

I had some work in Houston. When I need to go to Houston for work I always drive. I don't much care for airports anymore and it takes about the same amount of time when you factor in time getting to the airport, going through security, getting off of and back on the ground etc.

So I'm driving to Houston and as I am nearing Madisonville I notice my GPS says I'm going 76.4 mpg. I speed up a bit and it's still 76.4. I slow down. Same speed. I reach over, turn the GPS off and turn it back on. It boots, reboots, reboots, ...

OMG! my GPS is DOA on I45.

Suddenly I'm filled with self doubt. How will I ever find my hotel and the HP campus? What can I do? I have to admit I was a bit concerned.

Then my mind wanders back to earlier in my life when rather than using trigonometry to triangulate off of 3 or more satellites in a geo-stationary orbit to figure out where we were and where we were going, we used to have these big atlas books in our cars. No google maps. No full color print outs telling us where to turn and no voice on the GPS telling us what was happening in 400 yards.

Hard to believe but we still arrived back in those days.

Well, I got there (after being lost for over an hour) and I got home.

Fortunately my little daughter gave me a new GPS for Christmas (when I thought I had one - you don't suppose she snuck into my car and...Nah!). I've been charging it up today and it will likely go into the car this weekend. My soul will be in more comfort when the TomTom talks to the satellites again so I don't have to try to remember how to work one of those atlas books!

How did I ever get so dependant on the technology?

The Cent of a Dead Pig

2010-01-26T13:42:00.000-08:00

First, let's be clear - I really don't like pennies. I haven't liked them for years. They don't spend well, they are noisy in your pocket, and let's face it - their time has passed.

Mandy found a web site for The Penny Experiment and although I don't like pennies, I do like what Jeffery Strain is doing with his (I would have stomped on it or kicked it and moved on down the road). My daughter, however, decided to help him out.

Meanwhile, the kid down the street, who is in FFA (Future Farmers of America), is raising a pig for his project this year. The school year is drawing to a close and the pig is tipping the scales upwards of 280 pounds so the project is drawing to a close. I know this because the kid showed up at the door asking me if I wanted to buy half (or all) of the pig. I was reluctant to do so but after reading Mandy's post on The Penny Experiment I decided I might have some use for a side of pork.

I sent an email to Jeffery and offered to donate a side of pork in exchange for 30 of his pennies (I have a secret plan to turn those pennies into even MORE food bank donations). To my surprise he shot me down! This was (part of) his reply..

Thank you for your email and the very creative idea. I am always willing to think outside the box and get creative. I actually like your idea quite a bit, but I don't know if it will work out financially. My hope is to add enough value to get $25 for each of the remaining pennies I have. That would mean that 30 pennies would be $750 and with the couponers getting $8+ for every dollar they spend at the moment, that would be $5700+ worth of food to the food banks....

I must admit, I was quite amused by the response. I quickly responded and my open line was "A negotiation! How fun". This post is getting kind of long but the bottom line was I reduced my asking price to 8 of his pennies (I'll include the whole conversation below but I'm sure some of you are already getting tired of the post).

Jeffery agreed, I called the North Texas Food Bank (214-347-9597 for those of you that have more food than you need and can afford to share it with folks who have less food than they need) and made the arrangements.

So the pig has a new found purpose and I have 8 pennies to sell. That's right, I've got pennies to sell.

I need to charge $30 each for the first four pennies. The money you spend on your new penny will go back to Jeffery to help him with his project. If you act right now (and live close enough to pick it up) I will throw in 10 pounds of my home made sausage with each of the four pennies sold. You pick the kind (Brautwurst, Italian, Polish or William Tell Polish).

If the pennies sell fast I've got some other ideas to further this effort. Who wants to help me get a thousand pounds of meet to the food shelter?

==============================================
And for those of you who care - The negotiation...
==============================================

Jim,

Thank you for your email. Please keep me up to date on the loop as time permits -- this is a long term project, so no rush. Hope to hear about confimations that all will work out and we can move forward.

Jeffrey Strain

On Fri, Jan 22, 2010 at 6:50 AM, Crawford, Jim wrote:
> Sorry - I'm out of town and not doing email every day.
>
> 1) Mandy (one of your coupon / blogger supporters) is my youngest child. She's all grown up and married. I spent the first third of my life doing things for me and the second third of my life doing things for the kids. The way I see it, the last third is all about serving others. Your experiment seems to hit that target. As far as "what's in it for me" -- that was the first third. It's not all about me anymore (but thanks for caring).
>
> 2) My wife volunteered for at the McKinney food bank at some point in the past and we believe they can take the donation. I'll have to check (and will do so prior to delivering the pig). We live in Dallas so I'll be surprised if I can't find one that will but if we reach an agreement don't send me the pennies until all those details are a done deal (good thought on your part).
>
> -----Original Message-----
> From: Jeffrey Strain [mailto:savingadvice@gmail.com]
> Sent: Monday, January 18, 2010 5:15 PM
> To: Crawford, Jim
> Subject: Re: Outside the Box
>
> Jim,
>
> Thank you for your email. I'm certainly interested in this because, as
> you said, I will need help from others to make this work and I love
> the creativity of showing different ways that food can be donated. I
> have two concerns.
>
> 1. What do you get out of this. One of the things that I want to make
> sure is that everyone who participates is getting at least equal value
> (if not more) for the work they do. In the same way that I have been
> refusing donations (I tell those that offer to donate directly to
> their local food bank), I need to make sure that you feel that you
> will be getting value by participating.
>
> 2. Do you have a local food bank or food kitchen that will accept the
> pork as a donation. many have restrictions so you need to make sure
> that there is a place that you can donate it to before we proceed.
>
> Again, thank you for wanting to participate and look forward to
> hearing your answer.
>
> Jeffrey Strain
>
> Make sure that your local food bank or kitchen will be able to take
> the donation
>
> On Sun, Jan 17, 2010 at 9:50 AM, Crawford, Jim wrote:
>> A negotiation. How fun.
>>
>> Ok, here's what I came up with. First, I figure the side of pork will end up being 80% of 140 pounds (the pig weighs 280 on the hoof) so we're probably talking about 112 pounds of meat. I really don't know what the average price per pound is for pork but let's say $1.50 so we're likely looking at $168 worth of meat delivered to the food bank (about 6 cents worth by your calculations). Before I write the blog about all this I will approach a grocery store and get a price on a side of pork so you'll have a real number for your records.
>>
>> Let's make it 8 cents and I'll do it. I'll buy the whole pig and make a portion of the other side into sausage (I do sausage as a hobby) and I'll sell the other 2 pennies (maybe all 8 - depends on the folks buying the sausage) for $25 each and throw in 10 pounds of my sausage (I have a bunch of friends who like my sausage and a while back when they told me they wanted to buy some. I decided I wouldn't sell it because that would turn the hobby into work - up to this point I only give it away).
>>
>> If it turns out I generate more interest in buying a penny for $25 and getting 10 pounds of free sausage I may hit you up for more pennies but for now I'll commit to the two. The other 6 pennies are mine to do what I please with (but I'm going to try to find some creative ways to support your effort).
>>
>> Once I start getting paid for the pennies I sell, you tell me where to send the money and I will.
>>
>> In my "never to be humble" opinion, to reach your million dollar goal you are going to need to come up with a plan that pyramids out and has a bunch of other folks trying to leverage your investments for growth and food deliveries.
>>
>> Let me know what you think.
>>
>> -----Original Message-----
>> From: Jeffrey Strain [mailto:savingadvice@gmail.com]
>> Sent: Sunday, January 17, 2010 2:08 AM
>> To: Crawford, Jim
>> Subject: Re: Outside the Box
>>
>> Jim,
>>
>> Thank you for your email and the very creative idea. I am always
>> willing to think outside the box and get creative. I actually like
>> your idea quite a bit, but I don't know if it will work out
>> financially. My hope is to add enough value to get $25 for each of
>> the remaining pennies I have. That would mean that 30 pennies would
>> be $750 and with the couponers getting $8+ for every dollar they
>> spend at the moment, that would be $5700+ worth of food to the food
>> banks. I thought about giving gardeners money as well, but I can't
>> get those numbers to work out on par with the couponers either. If
>> you have a way to resolve this or if I am greatly underestimating the
>> value of the side of a pig, please let me know as I do like the idea
>> if I can make the numbers work. I really do appreciate the though you
>> have put into this and the creativity as I know I will have to come
>> up with unique ways to reach the goal.
>>
>> Jeffrey Strain
>>
>>
>> On Sat, Jan 16, 2010 at 7:15 AM, Crawford, Jim wrote:
>>> I've got an offer that is outside your regular approach to adding
>>> food to the food bank...
>>>
>>>
>>>
>>> Two things happened this week. My daughter came
>>> over and told me all about her couponing for your cause. Prior to
>>> that my neighbor's kid (member of FFA) came over and asked me if I
>>> wanted to buy the pig he raised for this year's school project.
>>>
>>>
>>>
>>> Here's my offer. Send me 30 of those pennies and I'll buy the pig,
>>> have it processed and donate half (a side of pork) to a food
>>> shelter. The pig weighs 280 pounds. I'm not sure what the
>>> processing loss is but I expect we can increase your food $$$ total
>>> by over 50% (not bad for 30 pennies) I've got an idea on how I can raise even more for you using the 30 pennies....
>>>
>>>
>>>
>>> Oh, and I'll blog about it all so you can have some more links to play with.
>>>
>>>
>>>
>>> If you're in, let me know fast (before the kid sells the pig to
>>> someone
>>> else) and send the pennies to:
>>>
>>>

It's a Crawford Thing

2009-12-03T06:09:00.000-08:00

You'll have to excuse my little daughter for her rant about Christmas (Merry Judgemas). She has this history that oddly positions her for these "somewhere left of far right" views on life. I tried to teach her what was right, I really did, but once they clear puberty and start into their adultery they often have their own thoughts and express their own views.

Mandy, you see, is one of a very select group of young American women who has the proof necessary to allow her to join the "Daughters of the American Revolution" organization. That's right. She could stand there right next to Lorelai Gilmore and raise a glass of champagne to celebrate whatever it is the DAR group likes to celebrate.

The documentation that would insure Mandy's induction is fairly vast but best among the stories and documents is the red heart on the grave marker of David Crawford signifying his notable contribution to the Revolutionary War as, get this, General George Washington's personal physician. David was born August 11th of 1729 but this story isn't about him, it's about Mandy's history that would compel her to write such a rant so the story must start earlier, much earlier.

In June of 1718 Mandy's great great great great great great grandfather (I'm not making it up - it was Mandy then me then my dad then Ralph then Robert then Robert then John then Sameth - David's brother - then James who is the genesis of my name although I'm not the first to use it in our pedigree - but I digress) anyway in June of 1718 James and Mary Crawford stepped off a boat (that departed Golen Ireland) and started a new life in America.

So now, in 2009 we're 9 years short of being 300 years back in Mandy's history but it still isn't far enough. Her family spent close to 100 years in Ireland prior to being driven out of Paisley Scotland so we have to go back into the early 1600s.

So 400 years ago Mandy's great great... well ... let's just say a really great set of grandparents were in Scotland trying to live a good life devoted to Christianity. The problem was with this guy named James (son of Mary queen of Scotts) who became King of England (he was formerly the King of Scotland) and he did a couple of things you can probably relate to. First, he brought Scotland and England under one rule and called himself "King of Great Britain" (the "Great Britain" name kind of stuck). Second, he authorized the translation of what we now call the King James Bible.

Any who, James had a son named Charles and he was in charge when this whole mess started, and therefore I hold him responsible for Mandy's attitude. It seems that the Stuart family (we're talking James and Charles here) saw themselves as the "religious authority" and wanted to force their perspective of Christianity on anyone and everyone in Great Britain. They were Catholic. The Crawford's were protestant and apparently that just wasn't good enough. After a skirmish or two it became obvious that the Crawford clan wasn't strong enough to defend themselves against oppression from the kingdom. They would have to denounce their Christian views and follow the religious beliefs of King James and his annoying son Charles - or leave.

So we left.

After the 100 years in Ireland and a trend that suggested Ireland was destined to become part of Great Britain too, Mandy's family ended up in Orange County New York (long before it was the USA). We came in pursuit of a promise of religious freedom. We came here because we want to use the New American Standard version of the bible and don't want some government official lopping off a sibling's head because we refused to read the KJV.

Mandy's ancestors literally fought against England in the American revolution with a dream of building a place where government didn't get to decide what their religious beliefs would be. They wanted to build a country where folks could agree to disagree, but be free to worship without intervention.

They came here to build a place where the minority views held by the weak were not going to be forcefully crushed by the majority views of the powerful. It was the genesis of the separation of church and state. It was a good, check that, a GREAT idea.

And yes, we got our kids to read the bible as they were learning to read. And yes, we called Christmas by its real name and didn't weaken it by printing "Happy Holidays" on our banners. But we never want to forget the times when we were the weak having our religious views suppressed by a society that wanted to decide for us.

If we truly support freedom we must support a freedom that says if the French want to start a corporation called "Target" and put a store in our town, we will give them freedom to hang a "Happy Holidays" banner rather than forcing our Christian views on them. If the Gap wants to welcome (and extract money from) religious groups other than Christians by saying "Happy Honica" or "Rockin Ramadan" we're completely supportive.

We don't need to share their views - we just need to allow them the freedom to have those views.

So, OK, I believe it too. I was going to try to blame Mandy's views on King James and Charles but after looking up that big-ole-pedigree that I found in my Grandmother's papers I have to admit that she comes by it honestly. It's a Crawford thing.

Contrast

2009-11-14T06:59:00.001-08:00

I posted a blog about a month ago about taking my 15 year old wife to see Taylor Swift (turns out she was 13 but with that make-up and those cloths, who would know?)

Last weekend we went to see Reba McEntire at the new Allen events center (first show there - the inside of the building wasn't quite finished).

I noticed a contrast that really had something to say about how the world has changed between the time I graduated high school and when my kids got out.

(I have to interupt this post and just say that Pandora (www.pandora.com) might just be one of the best things to happen on the Internet - EVER)

Reba showed up on stage in a black shirt and a pair of jeans. She had 5 band members, simple lighting, one spot light and no props on the stage. When she sang the songs, well, she sang the songs. It was like the CD but you got to see facial expressions and such. When she finished her set and left the stage - she (and all her band members) were wearing the same cloths and the stage was the same.

Taylor Swift was a completely different world. Hydrolics that lifted stages (and people). Multiple stages in different parts of the arena. Many costume changes, props that turned her stage into different movie sets to match the songs, lazer lights, colors and spotlights all over the place, tripple video screens that sometimes showed Taylor, sometimes showed scenes, sometimes had completely different people talking, dancing, singing along - whatever. Some songs had her in different cloths at the start of the song than she wore as she sang the last verse. There was even a period of time when they had the capacity for people in the audience to send text messages to the big screens over the stage. The target was to engage all the senses and overload them. The goal was to change things constantly in an effort to keep an A.D.D generation engaged.

They were two different worlds.

When I was in my early 20s I left the sleepy little town in Wyoming and "engaged" the big city. Since that time I've solved problems for the biggest corporations in the world. I've been called in when everyone else was out of ideas. I've lived thorugh the pressure of needing to be the guy to figure it out. I've been flown to all corners of the planet to jump start the next generation of computer solutions, reached my "lifetime elite" airline status by traveling over a million miles and literally worked on every contenent but Antarctica. I make my home in the biggest city in Texas and drive highways with 8 lanes.

Every now and then I drive back to Wyoming. Once I clear Wichita Kansas I literally leave the "Taylor Swift" world and re-enter the world of Reba McEntire. When I turn north and enter Wyoming, my cell phone has no bars and the FM radio stops working about the time I get to Chugwater. I can push the seek button and it will just fruitlessly search the dial for a signal finding nothing. Driving northwards there are two lanes on my side of the highway, a generous chunk of unused land in the middle and two lines going the other direction. There are times when there isn't another car to be seen to the horizon in either direction and it's rare to see a building during most of the drive.

It allows the senses to relax. It stops engaging every part of my brain. It's simple.

I used to think this kind of simple was worse. I was wrong.

I watched TV with the kids last night

2009-11-06T06:37:00.001-08:00

It doesn't really seem like much. I watched a little ESPN (World Series of Poker) and an episode of "The Office" with the kids last night.

The reason we needed (Michelle was with me) to watch with the kids is becasue we don't have cable but the kids have Direct TV and you can't pick up the WSOP on an antenna.

It was amazing (so suck it Mr. "It doesn't really seem like much"). First, for those who require background, the WSOP is the biggest poker tournament in the world. The main event crowns a new world champion every year. This year the event started with nearly 6,500 players paying $10,000 each to enter the tournament. Nine people make the final table and each of them will win over a million dollars but first place gets nearly 8.5 million. Big money but that's not why it was amazing.

When the show started (there have been a series of WSOP shows each seeing the main event field shrinking) there were 18 people left in the tournament. Nine were eliminated during our viewing last night getting to the final table. The nine who went all in (each losing literally millions of chips) with the wrong cards will fade into obscurity. We just won't remember who they were but the nine who survived will be remembered for years. Pretty exciting stuff but that's not why it was amazing.

The best part of the night was when a couple of the top stacks tangled. Both of the players were a sure thing to make the final table. Both of the players had over 20 million chips. Both of the players were dealt two diamonds and then the flop came with three more diamonds giving both players a flush. That hand was magnificant, but that's not why it was amazing.

When the 10th player was eliminated it was a hand where one guy was dealt pocket aces and the other guy had a pair of eights. Big money, big excitement, big disappointment, big emotion. Watching the field go from 14 to 9 was simply....

Well, that last episode was pretty ding-dang nice but the amazing thing was that we were watching TV with the kids. I didn't walk next door to Jack and Mandy's house. I was watching TV with Shane and Cassandra. Their show recorded on their Direct TV DVR in their house.

In Boston.

1800 miles away, Boston it is.

When they paused the show to go to the bathroom or get a snack, we had to wait (because as I said we were watching with them) but Michelle and I were sitting in our livingroom in Dallas.

It's the technology that's amazing. The kids have a high definition slingbox. We have a device called a sling box catcher and using that technology we can sit together and watch TV. Then we can fire up the webcams and even see each other and talk as we enjoy a show together, 1800 miles apart.

And to think I was impressed with pong.

What Did You Do On Your Vacation?

2009-11-01T16:07:00.000-08:00

I made one of these...

Stupid is Relative

2009-10-31T07:56:00.000-07:00

I walked into the health club, informed them that I had cancelled the credit card they had been charging in the past and presented a debit card to replace it. The man behind the counter thanked me for coming in and as he brought my information up on the computer another customer came through the door. One of the trainers was standing nearby so he asked the counselor to finish my paperwork so he could help the next customer.

As the trainer started in on my payment adjustments he glanced at the computer and said "I see you've been with us for nearly a year. Have the workouts been helping you?"

"Oh no, I don't come in here" I boldly stated "I just give you money every month"

He stopped what he was doing and gave me a funny look.

"It's true. Since we joined a year ago I bet I haven't crossed that threshold four times. We just give you money in the hopes that having a membership will magically melt our excess pounds away but we don't actually come here" I explained. "We joined last year at this time because we were going to train for the MS-150 but we never got around to it. Then when I cancelled the credit card and we realized we needed to transfer the payment I suggested we should quit. My wife insisted that it was time to start training for the 2010 MS-150 and that we needed the membership"

He finished the paperwork so they could keep taking my money every month, thanked me for my donations, and I left feeling a bit stupid.

I climbed in my truck and started toward town to take care of some errands. As I drove along I was listening to news on the radio. Enough time had lapsed since the "Cash for Clunkers" program ended to allow an analysis of the program effect. They reported that people stopped buying Chrysler cars in anticipation of the program and then when the program requirements missed most of the models Chrysler had in inventory their sales continued to plummet until the company finally bankrupted out.

General Motors suffered a similar fate as a result of the program but rather than going into bankruptcy they simply took 39 billion dollars from the US government to keep them afloat. The news caster interviewing the researcher said "Well quite a few cars were purchased so a great deal of money had to go somewhere. If Chrysler and GM were devastated by the program did Ford make out like a bandit?"

"No, the program hurt Ford too. Nearly all the money went to two countries. Japan got the most. Nearly all of and the rest went to South Korea. Actually, Italy did OK too because they bought up Chrysler for pennies on the dollar and now they can sell Fiats in the Chrysler showrooms. The other major impact of the program is that we destroyed half a million cars that would normally be used by the lower income and poor people in the United States."

I thought about it all for a minute and got some perspective. Perhaps stupid is relative. I drive a Chevrolet that has been paid off for nearly a decade. My wife drives a car that hasn't required a payment for five years longer than that. We don't have any debt beyond the mortgage payment and that's only $807 a month. If we want or need something we save up and pay cash for it. Both our cars are older than most everything that passes us as we drive down the road but when the government raises taxes to pay for all this current deficit spending and financial folly nothing I own will get repossessed.

Maybe I can afford stupidity of a $9 health club payment -- even if I never set foot in the place.

I Wasn't Going to Write

2009-10-24T06:59:00.000-07:00

It wasn't going to be that kind of trip. It was supposed to be more of a fact finding mission, not something that produced a bunch of blog material. Maybe more personal than that.

As it turns out there was one story that really needs to be written.

The year was 1963. I know this because they preempted cartoons for the Kennedy funeral and I was quite annoyed by it. People die all the time. Cartoons are too important to interrupt for a funeral...but I digress.

So the year was 1963. The location was Columbia Connecticut. The house was on a lake but I didn't remember that. I now believe it was on a lake because we drove by it and there was this lake. Odds are pretty good that the lake didn't form within the last 45 years so I now understand that to be the case.

All I really remember is a bunch of people, much bigger than I was, holding me down and sticking sharp objects into my wound. I remember struggling to make them stop. I remember failing. Everything else is stories. Well, not the scar, the scar is a constant reminder but the rest is stories told by someone else.

It started as many trips to the emergency room do, with two little boys playing by a lake. I always thought the other kid threw it and hit me but last week I learned there was a witness and things didn't unfold as I had imagined.

"I thought the other kid threw it" I said.

"No, that's not how it happened" my mother explained "I remember watching it and saying 'I think it's going to hit him, it could hit him right in the face'"

"It must have hit me pretty hard to leave a mark like this" I stated, pointing at the scar under my nose.

"Yes, it was a nasty gash" she replied.

"Are you sure the other kid didn't throw it? I really though he did."

My mother glanced over from the driver's side as we rolled past the house a second time following our turn around.

"I remember it like it was yesterday" she said "you definitely threw the boomerang yourself.

Nine

2009-10-24T06:54:00.000-07:00

Nine.

There were nine folks in front of me who’s age had to be somewhere near double mine.

Maybe this was the standard deal for an early Saturday morning flight – I’m not sure. The impressive thing isn’t that 9 people of that age could still fly to New England (or walk through the airport…what ever). The amazing thing was that all nine of them set off the metal detector.

Every one.

Now I know what you’re thinking. It had to be pace-makers or titanium hips but that wasn’t the case. The first guy had to take off a wrist watch that was only slightly smaller than Big Ben another gentleman had a stainless steel comb big enough to double as a lawn rake. It wasn’t just the guys. One woman had a necklace that would make a gangster rapper drool while another was packing bracelets the size of hula hoops.

Had these people never been through airport security before? Did they think they could dial 911, say “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up” followed by “I don’t know where I am – use the helicopter with the metal detector and find me!”? The mystery completely eludes me but it was comprehensive and total.

I was thinking it had to be some sort of anomaly I finally got to the front of the security line. I made eye contact with the TSA agent and was waved through the metal detector without incident. Upon clearing the cavity search section I heard a loud thunk behind me as someone dropped a large magnet (or car alternator) I can’t be sure, into the scan tray.

Turning I saw four more folks behind me that made the nine people in front look like middle school students. They were bent forward as the more experienced members of our populas often are. The woman at the front walked through the detector, setting it off. Throwing a small fit as the guard asked her to go back and remove her metal she pulled massive C-Clamp ear rings off and dropped them in the tray that was offered by the security agent.

As she was unhooking her “tire chains” neck decoration the epiphany hit me – she stood taller as the ear rings came off. The tire chain necklace cemented the realization. As she dumped the neck armor into the tray she stood as straight as a marine guarding the tomb of the unknown soldier . She then walked through the detector, avoiding the alarm.

I hung back among the old folks who were still working to get a shoe on and waited. Sure enough, as she put the junkyard of accessories back, on she was slowly bent forward under the weight until she was once again hooked over in a posture where she could truly admire the blue toe protruding from her dark hosiery.

So now I get it. It isn’t curvature of the spine or weaker muscles that offer us a view of the blue hair follicles – it’s the metal. It’s all that metal.

Last Post September 28th

2009-10-24T06:21:00.001-07:00

That's what it said.

The last one was September 28th. I suppose that means nothing has happened for the last month (or I would have written, right?).

Well, not exactly. I over loaded. That's what I did. Overloaded.

There was the trip to Brazil closely followed by the Taylor Swift concert.

Then I ramped it up a notch at work so I was working longer days.

Then we went to the Fall National drag races because there is nothing like watching men in women's clothing doing the high hurdles (Monte Python reference or those of you that are too young to remember)

Then I managed to record enough hours of the WSOP to run Jack & Mandy's DVR out of space so I had to watch (and delete) all those episodes.

Then I finished building the elevator in the shop (yes - I have an elevator in my shop).

Then I undid part of the elevator (pulled the motor and much of the cable out) so I could put pegboard and sheet rock on the shop wall.

Then I decided to add multiple air-filters, a pressure regulator and a hose reel to my compressed air system (requiring extensive plumbing which I have not yet finished)

Then I flew to Hartford CT to spend some time with my mother (got bumped to first class both directions).

Well at some point during all of this the transmission started going out of Bruce's truck and what must you do when that happens? Well, duh! You buy an auto lift so you can pick Bruce's truck up and take the transmission out (it comes out the bottom you know).

A sane person would have hired someone to install the auto lift (I priced it - $400 plus an electrician to install the auto lift) but a sane person wouldn't have Bruce "We don't need to hire someone - we can do this ourselves" Rougeau as their friend. So...

Then I installed this 1500 pound auto lift without any professional help (but Bruce took a day off work to help me).

I finished installing the lift yesterday. I was going to call an electrician to wire the 3 HP single phase motor (230 volts) that runs the hydrolic pump but Bruce "We don't need to hire someone - we know Shelby Smith" talked me out of that...

After 30 years of Marriage

2009-09-28T12:54:00.001-07:00

I decided that I needed to sleep in the guest room Friday night.

Typically Michelle, my wife of 30 years, and I sleep in the same bed but unfortunately she did something that I decided made it impossible for me to join her in the bed.

Now some of you are thinking that a wise married man will resolve all issues prior to hitting the pillow and if I were wise I would do the same. I get that but I'm pretty good at figuring things out and decided it just wasn't worth the risk.

You see, Friday night my wife turned into a 15 year old and took me on a date to the Taylor Swift concert. Granted she dressed all wrong (apparently) because all the other 15 year old girls that were there were pretty much dressed the same so she looked different (actually much better but that's another story) but she joined the other teeny boppers in her mannerisms as she approached the event.

She laughed when they laughted, she cried when they cried and when they screamed...well - even at 15 I'm not sure she could do that, but she liked it just the same.

So after spending an evening out with a 15 year old date I'm not going to break any of those statutary rules by sleeping with the young lady. Fortunately next month she's going to turn back into a 50 year old and take me to see Reba (and nobody will arrest me for staying out to the guest room after our date that night).

Picture of the Day

2009-09-28T12:48:00.000-07:00

This is the one from Saturday. It amused me becasue the side of the dragster says "Smokeless but looking at the tires you could make an argument that it isn't really true...

Picture of the Day - Day 6

2009-09-22T12:44:00.001-07:00

Day Six - Brazilian Casual

2009-09-22T07:08:00.000-07:00

The title couldn't possibly represent the panic I felt. It was dark. My feet were contorted into a shape that most resembled an upside down "U". The top of my head was pressed against a hard wooden surface and my left arm had no feeling and wouldn't respond when I tried to lift it.

That was scary - but not scary enough for panic.

Swinging my shoulders I got my arm to flop into a new position. I lifted my knees which eased the pressure on my head and allowed my feet to asume the letter "L" (much better than "U"). I paused and concentrated -- yes, it was still there (and my panic grew)

As my brain began to function better I rolled to the left. My feet returned to a human shape and my head could even be described as comfortable but the panic did not reside becasue it was still there. My environment was pitch black but I was fully concious and the presence was unmistakable. I wanted to scream but I focused every ounce of my dicipline and restrained myself. Perhaps screaming would still be inappropriate. I concentrated again.

I was right. There was no mistaking it. It was everywhere and now I knew is wasn't a dream.

Silence.

My hotel room was quiet.

My mind was racing. "What have they done with my sister? She can't be here sleeping, the silence proves it..."

Meanwhile, unknown to me because of the dark, Loretta was a scant 2 meters away in the other bed. Two thirds of the fancy Marriott pillow was in her mouth and she was happily dreaming that she was eating a giant marshmello. Unfortunately there was no way I could have known what was really happening.

I jumped to my feet to investigate just as a giant "Pauaguah!" sound erupted from the darkness. A soggy pillow hit my feet and a diesel engine started to idle in the darkness.

All was well in Brazil. I climbed back in my tiny bed and went back to sleep.

A few hours later day 6 continued with the standard morning ritual of showers, breakfast and waiting for the kids. When they got here we packed up and headed for the beach.

First Cassandra went in and played with the waves, then she came out. We got some pictures of her in the waves.

Next I went in, played with the waves some

After I got done we all sat on the beach for a while (I read my book). Eventually Shane picked up the boogie board and went in to play with it a bit.

Shane seemed to have quite a knack for the sport and typically when he rode the board he ended up completely leaving the ocean and sitting out in the sand near the volleyball court.

After 3 hour (or so) on the beach we cleaned up, loaded the pictue of the day, and headed for town where we ate our last meal of Brazilian BBQ.

It was supposed to rain all day today but we got lucky and we had a good result.

Day Five - Reo Under Water

2009-09-21T16:53:00.000-07:00

The day started with the Cowboys leading the Giants in a rendition of Sunday night football. Earlier Shane was on his little blackberry running around the web finding about satellite feeds coming into Brazil with a sense of urgency. By 7 pm yesterday (or so) he was sure he could get the game but he swapped out all the programed channels on the bigscreen in the Executive lounge and the game wasn't still there.

"I need to go up to your room to get this working" -- I'm pretty sure that was his cover. He disappeared and I have visions of him on the roof with a soddering iron re-working all the circuit boards on the hotel's satellite dish then crawling down the side of the building spider man style so he could splice that cable that you can only get to by hanging upside down between the 17th and 18th floor.

Whatever it was he was back in the lounge a little after nine looking like the cat that ate the cannary (and the chocolate from my pillow) and 10 minutes after that we were watching football on the widescreen in the lounge.

Anyway that was yesterday -- the last thing from when the game ended (in the part that was "today" was the Giants kicked a field goal. At the time I had no clue why, but a few minutes they kicked another and the game ended with the Cowboys 2 points down. Cassandra was sad. John was happy. I was tired. I went to sleep.

Later today I stopped sleeping when I heard a sound I was pretty sure was caused by the folks in room 1608 trying to dig through the wall. Kind of a rumbly scraping sound. They would dig - then rest - then dig again. I laid there and listened. Grind, scrape grind, pause for twice as long as they were digging, then grind, scrape, grind.

Terrified that they were almost through the wall (the sound was getting REALLY close) I sprang from the bed and jumped over to where I could warn Loretta. As I approached her I saw her mouth open and the digging noise started. A moment later her mouth closed and the digging stopped.

When some people get ready to travel to another country they spend months, even years, learning a new language. Others spend a bunch of time shopping for cloths. I'm convinced Loretta spent her time learning new snoreing sounds so she could keep me guessing.

It's working.

Anyway I woke her up and suggested we clean up a bit and then go eat before our showers. It was a rainy day and a bit windy. The surf seemed to be about 3 and a half meters (I'm not allowed to say it in feet becasue they do metric system here but there is just under 4 feet in a meter so you can do the math if you need to).

During breakfast I chose chairs that looked out the window at the ocean. As we watched the big waves crashing into the beach we discussed the contrast of the extreme violence of being in front of the waves compared with the sea behind the break point.

I commented on the fact that NOBODY was in the water - it was just too wild and crazy. I explained that from my perspective a person would have to be crazy to go out there. Loretta thought for a moment and then said; "You know - we should go out there".

"Are you kidding? There is NO WAY I would go out there". "Come on!" Loretta coaxed "The best things in life are highly disturbing when they are happening - Life isn't a spectator sport! Sometimes you've got to grab the bull by the horns"

Well it took her over an hour to talk me into it but finally (and quite reluctantly) I agreed.

Somthing like that is all fun and games until you get run over by the first Mac truck (and let me tell you - when 40,000 kilos of water slams into you it's not unlike the Mac truck thing).

We let the first wave pass then rushed out trying to get to the break point before the second arrived. Turns out they were coming just too fast. The second crashed right in front of us and even though the water did a one hop before reaching us it was still easily twice our height when the spankings began.

For some reason I can't quite explain I took a deep breath as the wave approached and chose to let it out when the wave crashed in front of us and then took a new breath about the time we were covered in salt water.

"Oh crap!" I coughed and gagged "I can't do this".

"It's over - the wave is past" Loretta exclaimed "Get a good breath and come on - we can get farther out!" She grabbed my hand and started running toward the next mountanous wall of water as it formed a scant 20 meters away.

The next one hit us hard - well over our heads. We faltered but didn't fall down. When the water cleared I was in a near panic.

"This is too dangerous! I can't touch the bottom. The water is too deep. The waves are too big" I cried.

"First - it's not dangerous, you're just not used to it" she calmly told me "You probably could reach the bottom but your legs are currently wrapped around my waist and you are tearing my shirt off with both of your hands. If you climb down off of me and we move out another 15 meters we will be behind the break point and no more waves will hit us - it will just be swells"

"I can't - I'm too scared" I responded.

"Ok" she said "You've got a pretty significant life experience just coming out this far but are you sure you want to? You're just a few hundred centemeters from much more forgiving water"

"I've come this far but I'm really satisfied with my accomplishment to this point" I responded "Let's head back in"

We turned, took two steps and the next wave pushed us back to the beach.

As we walked back toward our waiting sandals Loretta explained that the best things in life are typically very troubling as they occur. She told me that two years from now when we talk about this vacation my episode with the waves would be one of my favorite memories. She promised it would all be worth it."

We scarcely made if off the beach before I realized she was probably right.

After the first wave experience we did some more in the water. I got some good rides in on the boogie board and when we were finally quite tired we headed back to the hotel to shower.

I was done showering and Loretta was most of the way through hers when Shane and Cassandra showed up.

We decided to go to Ipanema today but before that we went there we stopped at a Churrascaria (Brazilian BBQ - all you can eat meat) where we ate all we could and then quite a little bit more.

Next we walked by the kid's hotel so they could change their clothes (it was rainy and a bit nippy out) and then headed down the road.

We quickly decided to take a taxi. We piled in and I said "La Playa de Ipanema". The guy gave me a thumbs up and took off in the wrong direction. I believe he was going to go there by way of Venezula but I gave him the stink eye, thrust my thumb over my shoulder and explained that I knew where Ipanema was. He turned the cab around and stopped screwing around.

We walked along the shore for a while. The waves were twice the size of the ones in Copacabana. Very big. Very scary.

Next we walked back throught he shopping district of Ipanema. Loretta bought stuff. Cassandra bought stuff. I walked in the rain and got wet. Then something unexpected happened.

We walked by an open air drug store. In front of the drug store was a freezer full of ice-cream bars. Besides the ice-cream bars sat a little man on a stool.

Shane jumped over, stared into the freezer (it had a glass door on the top) and yelled (not to be confused with the word "said") "HI ICE-CREAM".

The little man jumped off his little stool and hit the ground running. He sprinted into the store and came back out with a key for the lock on the freezer.

Apparently Shane missed the little man when he decided to greet the ice-cream in this mannor. There was a short spot of confusion as Shane tried to explain that he didn't really want any ice-cream, he was just being friendly to it. Next the little man was trying to explain the meaning of gringo loco but he was speaking Portuguese so we never really figured it out.

Day 5 - Picture of the Day

2009-09-21T15:38:00.000-07:00

Muy Loco e Mas Bueno

Hey - it wasn't just me...Loretta did it too.

Winning isn't Everything - Sometimes it's the Confusing Thing

2009-09-20T16:19:00.000-07:00

After breakfast this morning Loretta and I walked to the little market that popped up in a parking lot a few blocks from here. Early on it was "Quanto Questa", "Cinquenta", "OK".

That was the south end. That was the beginning. That was before it changed.

The "Blog worthy" negotiation went like this:

Little Man "Very nice. Good quality. See picture? Very nice picture"
Loretta "Quanto Questa"
Little Man "Cinquenta"
Loretta "No!" (insert pause while the little man gets the stink eye) "Quanto Questa"
Little Man "Quarenta e cinco?"
Loretta "No. Mas daspico!"
The Little Man just shrugs.
Loretta "Vente"
The little man looks shocked. "Vente? Good quality. Worth more. Quarenta nenhum menos."
Loretta "No. Vente e cinco."
Little Man "25 is not enough." He holds up 4 fingers. "Quarenta"
Loretta goes right back into the ole stink eye and lets the tention build. The little man caves.
Little Man "Trienta e cinco" he crosses his arms across his chest and his jaw comes out as his face goes stone cold"
Loretta "Vente e cinco. No mas"
(insert long awkward silence here)
Little Man "Trienta?"
Loretta "No mas. Mas Dispacio. Vente e cinco"

The little man hangs his head and with a sad look quietly says "Sem" as he digs for a plastic bag. Loretta spins on her heel and starts to march away. I grab her by the back of her shirt. "Where are you going?" I ask. "Maybe someone else has one..."

"You won. It's over" I explan.

Loretta comes back, hands the guy 25 Reais and he gives her the beach blanket. The exchange obligodo and it's over.

As we walk away Loretta confides in me "I feel terrible! The little man looked so sad..."

Apparently the feeling didn't last because a short time later I realized a new baby shark had been born.

Day Four - Daily Blog

2009-09-20T06:05:00.000-07:00

It started south of the equator slightly past seven in the morning. As a gentle hazy light peeked through the curtains the air filled with a sound, every bit as soothing as the fingernails on the blackboard. It would stop – a moment would pass and it would start again.

I was disoriented and confused. The bed was too small and I didn’t understand that noise.

Suddenly it changed to a softer buzz, more like a child’s toy. As my mind cleared, I looked toward the sound and saw Loretta, softly snoring as a small trickle of drool lightly moistened her pillow. She snorted like an old Brahma bull warning a trespasser to stay out of his field and repositioned her face so to take advantage of the moisturizing characteristics of the newly wetted pillow.

I repositioned my pillows and moved my head part of the way up the wall so my feet were only a meter or so past the end of the tiny bed. More comfortable now, I began to contemplate the great disturbance in the force that I could sense.

Sure enough, there was rustling beside me and the Velcro sound of Loretta un-sticking her face from the pillow as she rolled onto her back and began another “fingernails on the blackboard” iteration.

I lazily reached over, snagged the latest Presidential Agent Novel written by WEB Griffin and plugged back into the story as I waited the buzz saw in the other bed to come back to life.

An hour later fresh and clean from our morning showers we arrived in the executive lounge to grab a bite to eat. The kids arrived around 10:30 and after half an hour or so of Internet interactions in the executive lounge, we were off on another adventure.

First there were the car negotiations. My initial plan was to take a taxi to the train station, jump the train to Corcovado (thus maximizing our opportunity to see monkeys), spend some time up there, take the train back down, snag a new cab to Sugarloaf, do our thing there and then catch a cab back to the hotel.

I figured we would spend a little over 120 Reai on taxis plus what it cost to visit the two land marks. This seemed a more reasonable approach because a “tour” (tour being you and 17 of your closest strangers mashed into a 12 passenger van) to Corcovado was $175 Reai per person. Sugarloaf was more like $150 each. The combined tour (where you got waffle imprints on your butt from sitting on the little fellow from Paraguay for so long) were around $250 Reai so if we could beat $1000 we should be in good shape.

Before reaching the cab I learned it was going to set us back $45 Reai each to ride the train to Corcovado. I already figured a cab fare to be around $35 each way so I negotiated $200 Reai (about $27.50 USD per person) for him to take all of us to the top, wait for us while we played then to Sugarloaf, wait for us again, and then back to the hotel.

As it worked out the cabbie knew maybe 7 words in English, had a pretty good working knowledge of Spanish, and could talk really fast in Portuguese. He played tour guide and pointed out land marks like the Palace where the royals lived when Rio was the capital of Portugal (now the governor lives there). We in turn informed him that seeing monkeys was very important to us, Shane had two dogs, and then we accidentally said the magic words.

Making small talk in broken Spanish we brought up the subject of Futball (Soccer) and suddenly the guy turned into Mark Carey (and like Mark – he became a family friend). He was a single guy and his life consisted of three (count them three) things. Playing Futball, driving the cab, and watching Futball.

Shane explained that he worked for a professional sports team and the cabbie quickly moved up the “I have affection for your scale” from Mark Carey to John Cavanaugh. Now the guy was family. He found our monkey (and Loretta butchered an opportunity for a once in a life time picture), took us all the places we agreed upon (as well as a few others that were not negotiated) and performed off the books freebies like stopping at "Lizardville" where we snagged some pictures that I'm sure Mandy will adore.

We saw the Christ the Redeemer statue, we attempted to traumatize Cassandra with the cable car up sugar loaf mountain (failed misurably on that one - turns out that she's fearless, even around things that scare her) and made it back to the hotel in time for happy hour and snacks.

The day couldn't decide if it was clear or cloudy which turned out to be quite a nice experience. Not only did it save us $600 Reai on helecopter rides, but it gave some unique looks at the different mountains around Rio. Somtimes it was clear, then an entire mountain range would disappear.

We were on top of Sugarloaf mountain at a little cafe. Shane and Cassandra were drinking a coke while Loretta and I were eating ice-cream...and it happened.

Was it the presence of the holy spirit? Was it a miracle? Perhaps we will never know but the giant white cloud that was blocking the statue moved to the left, a little breeze came up and I snapped the picture. At the time I though I was just wasting bits on a picture that wouldn't matter but upon closer review I think I might have captured something devine as I saw a sigh that suggested the man on the right had Jesus in his heart (or at least on the top of his head).

It was, as they say, a good day…but it wasn’t over.

The cabbie dropped us off at the hotel. We said our teary good-byes, took some pictures of him for the family album, then ran inside to clean up. We put on our boogie shoes and headed down town to do the night club district.\

Our goal was three-fold. First, I wanted to introduct my kids and sister to Sylvia, an old friend from Rio. Second, Loretta wanted to try the cachaca, and finally - we needed to teach Loretta to do the Samba.

We accomplished all three things. Had a nice dinner. Did the "young and chick" scene in Rio and still made it to bed by 1 a.m.

It was a good day in South America for all of us.

...And this one for Mandy...

2009-09-20T06:02:00.001-07:00

On our trip up Corcovado we saw this guy. He was about the size of my grand-dog Maggie. That must be why I thought of my little daughter (and took this picture just before my mean sister chased it away)

Day 04 - Picture of the Day

2009-09-20T05:56:00.000-07:00

And I looked, and behold a white cloud, and upon the cloud one sat like unto the Son of man, (Revelation 14:14)

Rio Day Three

2009-09-19T03:57:00.000-07:00

He checked and rechecked the numbers but it always came out the same. The news was so disturbing that he couldn't eat...and he usually loved to eat. As he picked up the phone to call the emergency meeting the same thought kept running through his mind "The meaning is obvious. If the depth of the Atlantic ocean truly did drop by nearly an inch then maybe the whole global warming thing wouldn't sell anymore".

Where would he get his money in the future? Who would buy his movie? Al Gore was nervous, perhaps even panic stricken. How was he going to spin this one?

Two hours later, as the sun gently kissed the Copacabana beach, Cassandra Crawford dragged her self from the foamy surf. The waves had not been kind to her or her husband. Twenty minutes earler she proudly watched as her husband strapped the velcro safty line to his wrist, tightly gripped the boogie board with both hands and launched himself into the massive humps of water that would soon be breaking waves. Moments later she helplessly peered in rapt horror as Shane came over the crest of the breaking wave and violently altered a famous Beach Boys song.

A snappy melody of "Catch a wave and your head auggers down in the sand" played in her mind as Shane went completely vertical as he made a 90 degree turn off the breaking wave. His face and the front edge of the board striking the sand at the same moment, Shane contorted into "Backwards clam man". Cassandra grimaced, feared the worst, hoped for the best and then got leveled by a giant wave.

This was the fun they paid all that money and traveled all those miles to experience.

About that time Shane emerged from the depths, gladly relinquished the boogie board to his father (who quickly learned how to do the wave crest pile driver manouver himself) and escourted his waterlogged wife back to the beach chairs generiously provided by the JW Marriott.

As Cassandra leaned forward to adjust the towel which covered her chair she experienced something that was totally unprecidented in her life experience. A suddent torrent of water began gushing from her nose. A river began to form at her feet and rush across the beach back into the Atlantic slowly bringing the level of the ocean back to a level sufficient to rekindle the raging debate about global warming.

Somewhere, thousands of miles away, Al Gore breathed a sigh of relief as back in Rio Cassandra found she could breath much better without a percentage of the Atlantic waters packed into her sinus cavities.

More to come.....

Day Three Picture of the Day

2009-09-18T17:59:00.001-07:00

We chose two pictures of the day for day three. We spent some time on the beach so we chose beach pictures. This first one, taken by Loretta shows me just before a wave decided to tear my cloths off.

The second is of Loretta appearing to have a "gentle" interaction with a wave. Actually it wasn't that tame. A scant 15 seconds later the wave swept Loretta's legs out from under her and she did the "under ater meatball roll" and then flopped at my feet, face down in the muck.

Day Two Picture of the Day

2009-09-18T17:08:00.000-07:00

Here's the picture from the first day. We took it on the roof (because that's where we spent most of our time). Zoom in and read the bubble above Loretta's head.

Maggie Would be Proud

2009-09-18T09:17:00.000-07:00

Loretta and I were riding the elevator up to the room so we could change into beach cloths. At about the 11th floor I threw a candy wrapper and hit my little sister in the face.

After bouncing off her nose the paper fell to the floor. I suggested Loretta pick it up so someone else wouldn't have to.

(Retta is bugging me now because she's ready to go to the beach so I'll jump to the bottom line)

...my little sister picked the paper up as the doors started to open, 16 floors up. Then, in an unchaeristic move she stuffed the candy wrapper in the crack between the elevator and the hallway floor.

As the paper dropped the 16 floors into it's new permanant residence I exclaimed "Well THAT was nothing like you. Maggie would be proud!"

Rio Day Two

2009-09-18T05:52:00.000-07:00

By design we did pretty much nothing yesterday (Thursday). Wednesday we were all pretty wiped after 20 hours of travel (and for me at least the travel started following a full work day) so prior to bed (which came at 8:30 PM we all agreed that Thursday was designated a "do nothing" day.

We interupt this blog for the following important message: Google seems to have thought of everthing. They thought I would tell you stories so they made a blogging site. They thought I would need an editor to work in so they created a set of tools with little words to help me with my tasks. They thought I suck as spelling so they gave me a spell checker. They thought they could look at my internet address and know where I was so they made all the labels and tools and spell checker work in Portuguese. Oops!

Now back to our exciting blog. (and Lexi - why aren't you printing these and taking them to my dad)

So the day started at about 6:10 when I woke up. Loretta was quietly snoring out a rendition of "The Girl from Ipanema" as I went to the window to watch the early morning beach joggers. I got my book and started reading.

After a couple of paragraphs Loretta work up. "Why are you reading your book out loud" she asked. "Sorry. I didn't know the words to the song so..."

Next was the morning "gee you smell - maybe you should take a shower ritual" followed by the "Let's eat strange things for breakfast" required "Papia good, mango bad" montra. Unfortunately my little sister got it wrong and decideds she likes Mango. Go figure.

We sat in the executive lounge for an hour or two. Ate things, watched folks on the beach, drank coffee (actually I drank coffee, Loretta made me explain why I drank coffee because I typically don't)

Did I mention that the coffee here is the best in the world (as judged by someone who virtually never drinks coffee)?

Anywho the next thing we did was go upto the roof (where the pool lives).

(Time for me to take a shower - I'll turn the keybord over to Loretta for a different perspective)

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The hotel is awesome, we had breakfast in the lounge and it was great....well, I tried Brie cheese for the first time and that was disgusting, but everything else was good. I also tried fresh Mango for the first time and I think I like it quite well.

We are on the 16th floor so we have a great view and I watched a group of people do their morning yoga on the beach. We can also see ships coming in and some just wait out in the harbor, waiting to be loaded or whatever.

We've done alot of walking which is good because you get to see a things you wouldn't normally see if you we're riding in a car. One thing I've noticed is very popular here is "buffets", they have them everywhere and you go in grab a plate and load it with food and then they weight it and you pay by the Kilo.

Jim and I tried Beef Tongue and it actually was quite good. They also have a lot of juice stands/shops called Sucos and Jim and I had an Abacaxi (which is pineapple) It was yummy. Oh, I also tried Papaya and it pretty much tasted like cleaning fluid. I have to say the pineapple here though is probably the best I've ever had. Well gotta run for now...

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I'm back. I'm out of the shower. I'm free of sand and salt water after the beach but that's today and today is tomorrow from the perspective of yesterday which is where we are in the blogsphere...but I digress.

So Loretta and I went to the roof to sit by the pool and read our books. First I sat and Loretta read while I read and Loretta sat. Next we both sat and read. Finally I sat, Loretta read while I read and Loretta sat.

I suppose the high point of all that was when the hang glider went over not too far above us and we captured the picture of the day. Unfortunately we got it with Loretta's camera and currently have no way to get that picture to a computer. Go figure. An adapter will be part of our quest this afternoon.

Shane and Cassandra showed up a bit after noon and sat with us by the pool for a while. When sufficient time had passed so someone could claim hunger we went on a quest for a resturaunt. We ate in one that sold the food by weight. It was a bit over 3 Reai per 100 grams. We tried cow tongue (first time for me and Loretta tried it too). It scored a double thumbs up. Loretta did a big thumbs down for Papia. We both ate some vegatable thing that was completely unknown. Imagine an okra that was about 50% bigger around than a banana. That was this stuff. It wasn't gross but I don't think either of us will seek it out again.

Finally I got up and scored some coco e abacaxi cake that was good enough that Cassandra went on the same quest and got some too (after sampling mine).

Next we went on a quest for two items. Cassandra wanted a futball jersey and I was looking for a boogie board (yesterday we learned that they wanted $50 reai a day to rent one - I wanted to compare).

I found (and bought) a boogie board in the jersey shop for $80 (about $40). I figured this way I could practice all week for less than two days rental. Cassandra came up dry on the shirt.

Later that day Shane found (and purchased) a futball shirt for Cassandra (it said Kaka on the back so I can only assume the number belonged to a crappy player).

That was about it for the day (I told you the goal was to pretty much do nothing - I think we pulled it off)

Rio Day One -

2009-09-17T03:49:00.000-07:00

We got here noon yesterday but the day was all business. Checking into hotels, checking hotels out, getting a feel for the surrounding area, getting some local currency, finding food. That kind of thing.

The flight here was uneventful (for Loretta and I anyway). Shane and Cassandra took a wrong turn in the Sao Paulo airport and accidentally went through immigration (when they should have just gone to their connecting gate for Rio). I guess they freaked the airline people out some when they disappeared half way through the trip but I can't write that story here because, well, it could be considered hear-say in many courts.

We (back to Retta and I) flew in on a flagship 777 which is, in my never to be humble opinion, the best long haul aircraft that American flies. It has computers in the seats with a wide movie selection and business class is better than first class on a 767.

I watched 2.5 movies. X-Men Woverine, Yes Man, and the first half of "The Proposal". I decided I wanted to see the end of "The Proposal but couldn't seem to talk the flight crew into taking another lap before landing so I guess I'll have to wait.

Once we got here we had no issues with immigration or getting into Copacabana. The Marriott is treating us well and upgraded our room to a corner ocean view room on the top floor. Shane and Cassandra are in a different hotel (this one is a bit spendy) about 4 blocks down the beach but they too have a ocean view room.

Yesterday we went to a buffet place where you pay for your lunch by the kilo and then took a walk to Ipenema beach and watched the surfers for a while. Cassandra negotiated with a street vendor for a while and purchased one of those purses made out of a zipper. Asking price $20. Purchase price $8 (this is all in Reais which are worth about 55 cents each so she spent a touch over four bucks).

We stopped in a surf shop to inquire prices on renting surf boards, boogie boards and such. We all plan to do the boogie board thing, I really need to get up on a surf board at least once to put a knife through the heart of that demon, and I think at least Cassandra (clearly the surfing champion among us in Hawaii) wants to try surfing on waves bigger than ankle high.

Finally we walked back to the hotel, had the free happy hour snacks in the executive lounge. The kids are practicing for when they are old and Loretta and I are acting like we really are old so everyone was in bed by 7:30 pm.

Nothing like staying up all night to make sleepy time come a touch early.

6000 Miles South - Picture of the day

2009-09-16T14:22:00.000-07:00

We are about 6000 miles south of home. We're in Rio De Janeiro Brazil. The keyboards down here have many wrong keys are are hard to use. The kids (Shane and Cassandra) were supposed to get to Sao Paulo about 3 hours earlier than us. Unfortunately they zigged when they should have zagged and missed the turn to make the Rio flight. Instead they went through immigration and ended up outside the airport in Sao Paulo. Good thing they had those extra hours. They got to the gate about 10 minutes before we did.

Any way all went well. Both hotel rooms are nice. Loretta and I got upgraded so we're on the 16th floor on a beach front room. Not much happened today (beyond travel). My step counter is currently at 20.226. It feels like I walked to Brazil! More tomorrow when I haven't been up all night and can actually think.

This is the view out my motel room window.

What a World

2009-09-12T16:20:00.000-07:00

I came in from my shop where I had just put the finishing touches on the elevator I built so my wife wouldn't have to carry boxes up and down the stairs. I put the bread my son-in-law brought me into the oven and walk into the living room.

I hear talking, look over, and see that Michelle's computer is invading the living-room of my son's house 2000 miles away from here. On the left side there is a window with the TV-Show "Man vs Wild" playing on it. The right side of the screen displays Shane's dogs laying on the carpet and the bottom of Shane's leg.

I click on the arrows and adjust the web cam so I can see Shane and Cassandra sitting on the couch (the dogs were asleep and boring). Apparently Cassandra hears the whir of the motor as I re-direct the web cam. I then click an icon on the screen and a remote control pops up. I click on the pause button on the remote control and the TV show stops.

Shane looks directly into my video display on the monitor and asks "Why did you pause it?". I restart the program, open a chat window and type in that I walked into the living room and found the setup on Michelle's computer and wanted to see if the show was the same one they were watching.

I don't think my parents checked up on me like that when I moved into my first house.....

Doomed to Repeat History

2009-09-11T14:40:00.000-07:00

At some point in the not to distant past I wrote and entry here or on my blog page. I made a reference about being nervous about how our President seemt to miss some of the lessons that history has taught us.

My mother responded (in email rather than a comment) and asked:

Question: in your statement re "his disregard for history" What do you mean? please explain

Following is my observation: -

1928 the stock market takes an amazing rise - faster than the rest of the economy. Companies are building like crazy.August

1929. The bubble is too big. A recession begins. Auto sales are down and construction drops off significantly.

October 1929 - The stock market crashes.

1930 & 31 - Fed slashes the prime rate in an attempt to get things going. People start electing Democrats. Unemployment grows into double digits.

1932 - The Fed starts printing money. Tax rates are increased in an effort to get the "rich" to pay for more programs (and "create" jobs).

1933 - Roosevelt decides to redistribute wealth from the rich to the poor. He also starts spending all kinds of money trying to fix the economic problems.

===== Meanwhile in another part of the world ======
Germany is spending money that it doesn't have (like crazy). It finaced WW1 with deficite spending. It was forced to pay retrubution after the war resulting in more spending (without matching tax increases). The result was the country went into hyper inflation that continued until they invaded Poland in 1939....

Side Note: A bit over 40 years later the folks in Brazil failed to consider history and repeated the German mistake (which caused hyper inflation) again by deficite spending and expanding their money supply. From 1980 to 1994 they proved, once again, that if you choose to spend and not match the spending with increased taxes your economy is doomed. -- Now back to our regularly scheduled review of history in the 30's...
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Unemployment never gets out of double digits and the crappy economy continues right up to the time when Germany invades Poland to start the 2nd world war.The war pretty much wipes out everyone but the USA and we emerge as the worlds only economic super power.-----

Now let's compare and contrast that with current day events -----

In March of this year Obama gave the thumbs up and the Fed monitized a trillion in debt - yet the government continues to spend money we don't have at record levels. In an effort to keep taxes low (for now) they are borrowing or monitizing all this debt.

History tells us that move is a fools game and we can't win. George Bush started this Government folley when he increased our federal spending by nearly 800 billion dollars annually.

Obama has upped the ante and out spent Bush's stupidity by 125% in his first hundred days! Bush increased the national debt by 2.5 trillion (funding wars and such) during his 8 year term.

Barak has already committed to spending $4.9 trillion more than we will take in over the next 6 years (and that doesn't touch the cost of nationalized health care).

It seems to me that Barak is making the historically proven wrong choices of Roosevelt, Germany and Brazil. Last time it took a major war (and millions of deaths) to end the mess.

What are we willing to sacrafice this time?

10 Experiences that Shaped Me: 8 - Taekwondo Black Belt

2009-09-07T14:48:00.000-07:00

At some point while going through years of training in martial arts you are sure to hear the phrase "A black belt isn't something you earn, it is something you become".

After a great deal of time in the karate studio taking lessons 5 days a week I spent a good part of a year on the tournament trail. Every weekend started with an early exit from work on Friday night followed by a trip to another city. Some were by car to neighboring states like Arkansas, Louisiana or Kansas. Others were by airplane to states far away like Florida, or Illinois. Once I even competed at a tournament in another country.

I learned a number of things in my quest for a black belt. I learned that a spin heel kick looks cool when Mel Gibson does it in the movies, but when I do it in a sparing match it will send my sparring partner to the hospital.

I learned that when the referee yells "BREAK!" the fighting is supposed to stop but if you let your guard down without being sure your opponent has stopped you might not be able to eat anything but soup for a week or so.

I learned that the folks who fight me every week in the tournaments respect my fade away reverse side kick as an exit strategy but people who just spar casually in class can get broken ribs from it so I need to be careful to understand my opponent.

The day before the picture above was taken I learned that if a black belt kicks low it's wise to block low but don't make the mistake of not being ready to block high when he changes the kick because if you don't block there is nothing to keep his big toe from going into your eye.

None of those things, however are the take away that got Taekwondo on the list.

My goal when I started taekwondo was to get a black belt. My goal when I started doing tournaments was to win a state championship. After a boat load of trophies including one for 2nd in sparring at nationals, I lost the state championship and ended up in 2nd place.

The guy who beat me was just plain better than I was. He was younger (about 9 years) and faster and more fit. We drove each other all season long and forced each other to achieve so much more than either of us would have achieved individually. We met in the final tournament of the year tied for first place. He beat me to take the championship but when the season ended we had triple the points of the third place finisher and more total points than everyone else (number 3 - 10) combined.

I put a picture on the wall of him and I shaking hands after the match with a caption that says "When your very best just isn't good enough".

The take away is that losing is OK if you take your best shot. No matter what happens, your best is still good enough. It's all you have. One should NEVER choose not to compete or live an experience just because they might lose. Losing is so much better than not playing.

Top 10 Experiences that Shaped Me (#10 - Celtics #17)

2009-09-07T14:26:00.000-07:00

If you read #2 above, you know that when I was a young whipper snapper I told my dad that I would one day climb devils tower. He told me it wasn't going to happen and about a decade later I proved him wrong.

My kid (the male of the species) was always crazy into sports. At some point in his youth someone asked him what he was going to be when he grew up and he explained that when he grew up he was going to be in the NBA.

Being a practical parent I explained the odds of such a thing and gave him all the reasons why it just wouldn't happen.

About a decade later I took this picture:

The picture was taken at the Celtics team party after game 6 where the Celtics won their 17th national championship. I watched the NBA final from a seat I never would have gotten and attended the after party in a the part of the stadum where I wouldn't have been allowed to go if my son had not just earned this ring:

Besides being a refresher in the lesson that taught me that there are no limits beyond those that are self imposed, I learned that you can get older and slow down a bit but continue to collect experiences through your children. There's a massive pay off in that. Very nice indeed

10 Experiences that Shaped Me (9 - Seven Continants)

2009-09-07T13:17:00.000-07:00

09) Seven Continents - We traveled a bit prior to landing in Wyoming (where I grew up). I was born in upstate New York and while I was still pre-school age we moved to Saudi Arabia. I returned from Arabia and ended up in Wyoming. Coming out of college I decided I would set a goal to visit every state except North Dakota. The way I saw it, there are plenty of people who visit every state but how many pick one state to never set foot in - and let's face it, if you're going to skip one it has to be North Dakota.

Michelle and I celebrated our 49th and final state around the time of our 20th anniversary when we spent a long weekend at a bed-and-breakfast in West Virginia. Once you knock off all the states, what's a logical next goal?

That would explain "Why" seven continents but it doesn't share how my travels have shaped my life. Here's the life changing take away from my world travels: People everywhere care about the same things we do. They care about getting ahead. They want to have enough to eat, a good place to sleep, and a better life for their children than they have for themselves. They want peace and happiness. They want quality time with their families. I've spent hours talking to folks from Iran and I understand that they are good people. I adore the Chinese, Arabs, Indians and Hispanics. Here in the US we have so many inaccurate attitudes about folks over seas and I wish everyone could hang out with people from Pakistan, Argentina, and Saudi Arabia like I have. I can still disagree with their politics but once you meet the people you criticism gets a bit softer.

The other life changing take away is I have a perspective on how good we have it here. You can't properly appreciate the fact that you are more wealthy than over 99% of the folks alive until you've visited the other countries. I'm not saying we are happier, in my experience we really aren't in the top 30% of happy but we're crazy rich.

Last year when gas got up around $3 per gallon I saw the blessing travel has been in her life. Everyone around us was angry about the prices and what they had to do without and she shrugged and said

"Emily rides a bus 90 minutes each way to work every day. There are so many people on the bus that she never gets to sit down - I'm not sure I've earned the right to complain about the price of gas"

That's the kind of thing traveling the world does for you. Here's a few pictures from places we've been...

North America - I'm not going to spend much time here because if you're reading this you probably a bit familiar with this one already so instead I'll share the picture I chose for this continent.

I flew Shane to Detroit for the last game in Tiger Stadium. The week after this picture was taken they began to tear the stadium (one of the oldest in the country down)

South America - This is a picture of my wife and I at the base of Corcovado (a fairly well known statue in Rio De Janeiro, Brazil). Two things really impressed me about Brazil - first, it wasn't like Mexico or Central America. It was much more like Europe. Second - they have crazy lots of food down there and it's all really nicely priced.
Rio has edged out San Francisco as my favorite city in the world. The people are wonderful and they love to play (kind of like the folks in Denver never seem to figure out that they are getting older). We're flying back down there for a vacation next week (my Son and his wife are meeting me in Sao Paulo).

Asia

Here's a picture of my daughter Mandy and I on the great wall of China. I have very strong feelings about the Asian people (if one can stereotype all those countries into one group). Foremost is that they are hard working folks but they haven't become so self centered as we have in the USA. Next, they are much more respectful than folks in most other places. As far as China goes - the biggest thing from there is that if you live here and travel there - you get to be a rock star. I always say that everyone who goes to China is a rock star. There just aren't that many Caucasian folks in China and when they see one they are quite interested. I bet 150 people took out picture the month that Mandy and I were playing there

Africa - It's easy to underestimate Africa. The northern part is north like Washington DC is north. The southern part is so close to the South Pole that they have penguins there. The culture of the world has been influenced and changed by folks from that continent (I visited the Great Library and churches started by the apostle Luke when I was there)

...and for those of you who were wondering - riding a camel is MUCH WORSE than being horse back (they are really lumpy in the middle).

Europe - It was hard to choose a picture to represent Europe. Mandy took one of me at the finish line for the Tour De France that I liked, there are some heart wrenching photos I brought back from concentration camps in Belgium, some really nice canal pictures from Amsterdam and many of my favorites from the castle that overlooks Heidelberg Germany.

I finally chose this one for two reasons. First - there is stuff people might recognize from that big island that's just off the coast but most importantly because I got this pretty girl to stand besides me (and who wouldn't want people to see you in a picture with a specimen as fine as that!).

Australia - I have this really cool picture of me laying under a tree besides a kangaroo that is taller than I am (longer might be a better word choice - we were laying down so who's tall?) but I chose this one by the Opera house in Sydney.

I really didn't spend much time in Sydney but I was in Adelaide for nearly a month and I must say they have some amazing folks living down there. I didn't meet anyone that I wouldn't want to spend time with while I was there.

Antarctica - No pictures from here (yet). This is number seven and I'm currently saving up for the trip. The plan is for Mandy and I go go down there summer after next (January or February of 2011) and spend a couple of weeks freezing our little hoovies to the quick.

10 Experiences that Shaped Me (1 & 2)

2009-09-07T12:52:00.000-07:00

These are not in any order related to importance - it's all chronological. Oldest to newest. They were posted (for quite a while) on the right side of the web page and I was going to write a story about each but that seems to be taking more time and I'm going to change the list so I thought I would do a quick summary of each.

01) Student Body Vice President (High School) - I figured out a great deal about how people operate and what some of the magic around "the popular" kids as college was starting but I was really not in that crowd in high school. I was probably one of the best known and more popular kids in college (small college) and I think the transition to that point in time started when I ran for student body vice president.

02) Climbing Devils Tower - I'm actually working on that story now and it will likely post before too long. When I was in the 3rd grade my father took me to see the Devils Tower and I said "Some day I'm going to climb that". My dad simply said "No you aren't".

My Sr. year of High School I began growing a significant new self confidence and the summer following graduation my friend Dennis Clark and I decided to climb the tower. If was July of 1976, I have a horrible fear of heights and let me tell you, that fear did not go unchallenged.

There were two things that made the tower climb significant in my life (looking back, it is one of the most significant events - probably #1 or #2 on this list).

First, since that climb I have never considered something to be out of reach (my father believed it was and that's the reason he said I would never climb the tower). The transition from group think with all the sane/reasonable folks to this "nothing is impossible" attitude has made me a completely different person.

Second, I learned that the best accomplishments in life cost you. I mentioned earlier that I have a fear of heights. I'm talking nausea, light headed when I get up 25 feat kind of a fear. This was probably the most terrifying thing I have ever done. Every step and hand hold required discipline and concentration to help swallow the fear. Since that time I have jumped out of an airplane (with a parachute of course) and gotten an FAA Instructor rating but I've never experienced fear like I had climbing the tower. At the time I was just dying to finish the challenge and get the nightmare to end but since than it has become one of my fondest memories. Since that time the experience has been the inspiration that has led me through some of the darkest times of my life. Every thing that is hard has a payoff at the other end. Everything. Learning that gives you the ability to become so much more that you were destined to be.

5 + 3 = 8

2009-09-07T07:21:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we went and saw "UP" for the second time. The first time we watched the movie Michelle cried 5 times (one was the blubbering, make your popcorn soggie, kind). Yesterday my friend David was taking his brother in law, nieses and nephews so we tagged along. Michelle cried three more times. For those who havn't seen the movie yet - it's a cartoon. I wonder what she would have done in a REAL story?

X - 16

2009-09-05T12:27:00.001-07:00

It's been six weeks since I started. Here's the progress so far. I went out to lunch today and just had a vegetable plate. There once was a time when I watched people do that and thought
"who would pass up the Chicken Fried Steak for that?"

Now I guess I know.

My Grandkids Will Speak Chinese (or Hindi)

2009-09-05T06:27:00.000-07:00

We decided to go to see the Transformers movie (it's a 20 minute movie that they run in a loop for three and a half hours). On the way there we stopped at Walgreens. I made my purchase selections, went to the check out register, and the young girl behind the counter informed me that $2.70 was due to complete the transaction. I handed her a five.

After forfeiting the bill my hand dropped to my side and I felt change in my pocket. I reached inside and found the appropriate coins, pulled them out and announced "I have 70 cents!".

"I'm sorry, it's too late" the young lady responded. I've already put five dollars in the computer. I dropped the coins on the counter and said "Ah! But this way you can give me three singles".

A bit perplexed she looked at the register, turned to give me a "Oh you poor, stupid man" gaze, and pointed at the digital read out.

"I can only give you two dollars and thirty cents".

"Well, if you take these two quarters and these two dimes" I said as I picked up the coins and offered them to her "you could give me three one dollar bills and I would have something I could fold in my pocket".

"That won't work. You should have told me earlier. The computer knows you gave me five dollars and it says I have to give you two dollars and thirty cents".

I can't write anymore. The memory is just too painful.

Sausage is Radio Controlled Airplanes

2009-09-03T13:11:00.000-07:00

I have a title for the book I'm writing. It will be called "Sausage is Radio Controlled Airplanes"

I've been making quite a bit of sausage lately. In the last 3 months it's safe to say that I've processed over 100 pounds of homemade sausage. I just finished a new batch.

Just before I started this iteration I went to Northern Tool where I scored a new 5 pound sausage press. I'm not sure if sausage nirvana truly exists, but after my three earlier attempts, this new press gets me closer to that utopic state than anything else I've experienced -- but I digress.

I never spend over $1.00 a pound for the meat that goes into my sausage. That's one of the rules. Once I add the cost for the spices and other ingredients

and factor in the cost of the casings I probably run around $1.30 to $1.50 per pound (the fat free stuff probably runs higher because it has more waste).

The other day we were talking about the "cost" of a pound of the stuff I'm creating. I was comparing it to the store where sausage typically starts at around $2.50 per pound and goes up from there. At some point in the discussion Michelle said "With all the money you spend on the equipment it would take more sausage than we could ever eat to reach the breakeven point - I wonder if it would just be easier and smarter to just get it at the grocery.

Mandy turned, looked at her and exclaimed "Mom, you don't understand! Sausage is radio controlled airplanes!". Suddenly Michelle understood perfectly and the more I thought about it the more I knew she was right. So right, in fact, that she gave me the title for the book I'm currently writing.

Truth be told, the book I'm writing is radio controlled airplanes too. Just as it was when I flew Mandy to China so we could walk on the great wall together. When Dennis and I climbed Devils tower, when I got my black belt in Taekwondo, when I jumped out of an airplane, and when a giant fish swallowed my arm 90 feet below the surface of the ocean off the coast of Mexico, it was radio controlled airplanes. It's my life philosophy. I truly believe that even more than the number 47, "sausage is radio controlled airplanes" is the meaning of life.

Yesterday (or the day before but who cares) my friend Joe announced he had created a TV antenna using wood, duct tape, coat hangers and aluminum foil. I responded by suggesting you can get an antenna at Radio Shack for next to nothing and asked him how much he thought his time was worth. My friend Dennis quickly replied and said "It's sausage".

I got two things from that. First, Joe built the antenna not because he was too cheap to buy one - it was never about the money - it was about accomplishing something. Second (and probably much more importantly) it's easier to say something is "Sausage" than to say it's "Radio Controlled Airplanes" (and the transitive property of equality makes the decision to use either completely acceptable).

There's a right and wrong way to live your life. It works like this. When I was quite young I was very impressed with radio controlled airplanes. I hoped that one day I would be able to build and fly one myself. There were two reasons behind this. On one hand not many people build an airplane that actually flies. On the other hand, it would be cool to actually experience the process of using a box of wood and a set of plans to create a genuine flying airplane. I imagined the feeling of watching it roll down the runway, lift into the air, do a number of maneuvers and safely return to earth would be extraordinary. Something to be cherished and savored.

When I was dreaming the dream of flying an RC plane there was just no way I was going to make it happen. In those days the total out of pocket cost of building and flying such a machine was well over a thousand dollars (and my first job after college was paying me a gross wage of under $800 per month). Accomplishments of that scale required a great deal of saving and waiting.

Shortly after college graduation, and with the support of my new wife, I bought my first RC aircraft kit. It was a Sig Cadet and the kit was around $35. I handed over another $150 for an engine, $675 for a used 4 channel radio, another hundred or two for accessories like control links, gas tank, wheels, propellers, fuel, engine starter, film to cover the fuselage and wings, etc. Hundreds of hours and about a year and a half of calendar time later it was ready to fly. I found an RC club where I could get some lessons, spent a number of hours learning how it works and finally accomplished the dream of my first RC solo.

Once I accomplished the goal, I more or less lost interest. My fancy turned to scuba diving or photography or disc golf or hunting rattle snakes or any one of a hundred other things I've tried across the span of my life.

Now I know there are others who learn to fly an RC plane and then spend decades becoming the perfect RC pilot, all the time dreaming of one day winning a national competition, but that's not what works for me. I like to go into a new experience at 100 miles an hour and learn all about it. I like to develop a skill set that makes me "above average" and then I like to move on to the next thing.

Cost isn't really a guiding factor. That's not to say that the cost isn't important because money drives our ability (or inability) to accomplish many of our goals. My son-in-law wants to own a viper (the car, not a snake) and I'm sure my daughter (who totally gets my trophy case life philosophy) would have given him one if cost wasn't important. The thing about cost is that it doesn't need keep you from finding the next experience and adding it to your trophy case. Some experiences (like building that antenna) can be an instant decisions. Others, like my current plan to visit Antarctica, take some planning, saving, and time.

The important point is that you get out there and make sausage. Too many people spend their lives going to work, coming home, eating, watching 4 hours of TV, going to bed, and then starting another iteration of the same thing the next day.

That is such a waste. Take a moment to determine what your radio controlled airplane is, and go make some sausage!

Parental Regrets

2009-08-24T07:17:00.000-07:00

Sometimes as a parent you reflect back and wish you taught your kid how to do this thing or that.

Today I read http://shaneandcassandra.com/shane/?p=49 and came away thinking "I wish I had taught Shane how to open a box. If I had done that I could have a picture of him carrying a water ski.

X-12: It's Not So Annoying Anymore

2009-08-22T06:29:00.000-07:00

Our exciting story began in the tail end of July 2009 when I stood on the scale (digital) and it assulted me with the number 299. That's a pretty intense number, not because it is 3 more than 296 but because it is the most I've ever weighed in my life and probably worse, because it is scary close (we're talking drink a quart of water and step on the scale again close) to 300.

When I graduated high school I weighed 158 (but I was only about 5'10 inches tall). I graduated college weighing about 190 (but much closer to my current height which really sucked because I didn't have money for new cloths in college and growing nearly 6 inches pretty much demands a purchase). I started working for EDS at 210. A couple of years later in Denver I was running 5 miles a day (every day - I was using exercise to get rid of my job stress).

This is 22 years ago. I weighed 220, ran file miles a day and averaged just under 7 minute miles when I ran the Bolder Boulder (10k in nasty hills). The year was 1987, the year I met Chris Ifland.

Chris lived in Seattle and had a clarity in his vision of the future that few could comprehend, much less share. At this point in time he was into Novell networks and Chris felt this whole making PCs talk to each other was going to be important. Most of the EDS computer experts that surrounded me thought his vision was foolishness, the micro computer was really little more than a toy with minimal business value, but worth keeping around because you could do word processing and Lotus 123.

Over the next year or two I learned that along with being an incretable visionary, Chris was also soft spoken and not into himself enough to fight for his ideas. I, on the other hand, was thrilled to go into battle over a good idea and I became the Steve Jobs to his Steve Wozniak. Chris would have a company changeing thought, I would go break heads to sell it, and EDS would benefit. I expect a whole new blog entry exists in this story but that wouldn't work with the X-12 title...

The discussion about Chris really does fit here, though, because his ideas seemed to launch the travel part of my career. He would think grand thoughts, I would sell them to Mike Sweeney (who "owned" both the Denver and Seattle office) and Mike would send me on the road to tell the world. By the end of of 1988 I was a road warrior about as much as I was home. After 20 years I still carry a Platinum card for both American Airlines and Marriott hotels.

There are a nuber of down sides to travel and meals is definately one of them. When one get so eat in any restaurant they chose, three meals a day for 20 years, one is destined to gain weight. This is especially true when traveling in groups because you always do meals together so you're going out to eat even if you are not hungry.

So 20 years of Platinum cards, big steaks, succulent lobsters (in drawn butter of course) and hearty breakfasts at the hotel buffet later I'm tipping the scale at 299 and the rest, as they say, is history.

Rather than gain that extra pound I took some action. I downloaded, tested, and the paid for the Calorie King software. Answering the questions I learned my "ideal weight" is 167 (ya, right, that's going to happen) and to start losing weight I must eat 2,000 calories a day (or less). The software boasts the best food database in the world and I must say it seems to be quite complete. I've learned that I can still eat as much as I used to but I make different choices (and it's not annoying anymore).

For breakfast I used to cook 3 eggs, break the yokes, then put them between two slices of American Cheese (the real cheese, not that funky cheese spread crap) and two pieces of bread. I would butter the outside of the bread and fry it until the cheese melted. While the toasted egg and cheese sandwich was cooking I would scrounge around and eat a slice of last night's cold pizza. Today I typically cut up some cantelope and watermellon to eat. Probably the same volume but it's likely upwards of 500 calories less.

The other thing is exercise. The sofware gives me calories back and I knew it was important so I'm out doing that 4 or 5 times a day. You just have to make it a priority.

My progress has been surprisingly exact. I'm dropping three pounds a week. Three the first week, three the second, three the third, and I'm down three more as of today (Saturday - the weekly weigh in is Monday). I eat a bit more on the weekend so I porbably won't lose much more this week. That's it. X-12 and it's not so annoying anymore.

Is it just ME?

2009-08-21T07:50:00.001-07:00

Is it just me or do others who read this have NetFlix paranoia? Every time I put one of the mailers in the box outside my house I hestiate to put the flag up becasue I'm always concerned that the DVD thieves are lurking around the corner just waiting for the opprtunity to open my box and snatch the copy of The Little Mermaid before it can go back to it's owners.

Kind of strange. Nobody as ever stolen one yet I always hesitate. I wonder what that's about. Does everyone go through it or is it just me?

Priceless

2009-08-19T20:27:00.000-07:00

After I published the story titled "Becoming" I felt compelled to share one more. It happened about 40 years later. Many of you already know this story but for those of you who don't...

I was walking down one of the less lighted streets of Rio De Janeiro. As I reached the half way point of the block a young man came up beside me. He appeared to be in his early twenties and wore a tight brown knit shirt with black pants and soft loafer type shoes. He was probably 5' 5 inches tall with a very lean build. His dark, greasy hair was shortly cropped and he was clean shaven. The stranger asked me what time it was in Portuguese. I figured out what he wanted but struggled to respond. I said "noave e bente hora" (9:30 in broken Spanish) which probably wasn't the right response in Brazil, but hopefully close enough.

With no change in the tempo or volume of his voice, he said "Give me your wallet".

I responded by saying "No Compendio" (I don't understand) and started looking around. As I observed that there was nobody else on the street he repeated "Your wallet, give it to me".

About a block away I saw a sidewalk cafe that appeared to be open (well lighted). I replied "I don't think so" in a non aggressive voice. As he started talking I noticed his hand was up under his shirt, holding something that was pointed at me.

His voice had no inflection what so ever. "There are no Policia, nobody here to help you. You are alone. I am Mafioso. Give me your wallet".

With another quick glance in all directions to insure it was just the two of us, I responded. "If we are alone, who will protect you? I will hurt you".

His face showed slight confusion. I decided the thing under his shirt was his hand (I could see his knuckle). Perhaps still puzzled by my reply in English he repeated "No one will help you, give me your wallet".

For me, the world slowed down and my mind gained remarkable clarity. In the next 3 or 4 steps, I sorted my options. Odds were it was just his hand in his shirt trying to intimidate me. There was no way it was a gun, too small and there as that knuckle. It was a long shot, but there was a remote possibility that he had a knife. In my right hand, which was tight against my pants pocket to prevent access, I carried a small umbrella with a sharp pointed hook for a handle, folded up. My left hand was free. I quickly decided it would be pointless to run, I'm just too big, too old, too slow, and I didn't want him behind me where I couldn't see him. He was too close to kick. I could probably connect with a reverse elbow to the neck but he might see it coming and even if he didn't, there were the consequences of seriously injuring someone in a country where I was a foreigner and didn’t even speak the language. Further, there was the problem of the umbrella. I didn't want to drop it because I envisioned using it as a bongmongee if he had a knife, and I wasn't sure how a hand full of umbrella would change the dynamic of a reverse elbow strike.

I decided three things. First was that I needed him to be more than an arms length away on the outside chance he had a knife. Next, I needed to be at an angle that was facing him or at least perpendicular so my kicks would be more effective. Finally, I remembered that 70% of communication is non verbal and I decided I needed some strong non-verbal communication that clearly said "You need to find a new hobby".

My plan to meet these three objectives was to quickly turn, push him back 3 or 4 feet and shout "Deixe me em paz" (leave me alone - a phrase I memorized a day earlier when trying to deal with highly persistent adolescent beggars). He only had one hand available (the other was in his shirt) so if I turned quickly odds of him reacting in a way that surprised me were small.
The way it played out in my mind, once I was turned, he would be free to leave. If he took a step toward me it was a clear signal of hostility and permission for me to take advantage of the physical facts, those being:

If I was fast he would never see the confrontation coming (and have time to pull his hand out of his shirt).
I probably outweighed him by something like 100 pounds.
His diaphragm was about the same height I set up for board breaks.
Landing the full force step side kick, would likely give me the extra time I needed to get to the restaurant before he did. (Hey, injuring my friend Brant Paquette was a fade away reverse, a full force number three was bound to put this guy, who was smaller than Brant, on the ground and I figured he would be very slow getting up). If I didn’t have a good shot at the diaphragm I planned to take out a knee.

The plan seemed pretty solid after I finished analyzing it for a good 1.2 seconds. As it turns out, these things never go the way you plan.

Years later a friend asked me if I had to decide what to do or if my martial arts training made it automatic. I explained that at the time it was happening, it was just happening. I sat down afterwards and wrote it all down so it must have been automatic. I expect it was automatic because we did this so many times in class. Combine that with the adrenalin produced as I played out my role in my first robbery, and it seems I lost some of the finesse and control expected of me during a sparring match.

I did a double time step forward and pivoted on my right foot. The hand with the umbrella shot forward and as my left hand drew back and curled into a palm heel. I said "Diexe me (pronounced ‘dayeesh meh’) in a fairly normal voice, but the last part came out more like a ki-hap (PIE-TES!!).

My right hand shot back to my right side as the palm my left hand rocketed forward, striking him about 2/3 of the way up his sternum. His face showed utter shock and both feet lifted off the ground. He turned a half turn in the air and landed on his back on the sidewalk. I jumped into a sparring stance and screamed “I AM GOING TO HURT YOU – MURERTO!!” (It was actually so loud it even surprised me).

The assailant (assuming I wasn’t the assailant) did a kind of fast crab walk back 3 or 4 steps yelling “desculpe! desculpe!” (which meant nothing to me). He jumped back to his feet and said “pardonee!”, gave me a thumbs up sign and headed the other direction. I stood and watched him until he disappeared around the corner then I quickly crossed the street and headed for the lighted, open air restaurant. I didn’t stop but as I walked by everyone in the restaurant was staring at me.

A few blocks later I was back at the hotel. Five hours after that (2 in the morning) I was still lying in bed, wide awake replaying the whole thing in my mind, over and over. An experience like this one makes a great story, but is really leaves you wired when it’s over.
Later, a Portuguese speaking friend explained that "desculpe" means "I'm sorry – excuse me". I guess the whole experience was best summed up by the words of another friend (Dan Sims) who said "Karate Lessons $1680, Sparring Gear $145, Tournament Entry Fees $1120, Kicking the butt of the scum bag that tried to steal your wallet --- Priceless!…

Becoming

2009-08-19T19:54:00.001-07:00

Writing is a strange and wonderful practice. You sit down to capture a story and when you begin writing sometimes something else ends up on the page. That is exactly what happened to me yesterday. I sat down to write a story about the student body VP thing and when I finished I had 19 pages of prose. Contained within the prose was this story that I've titled "Becoming".

My earliest memories come from Saudi Arabia. I spent 5 years living there and left at age 9. After a brief stay in Missouri where I lived with my Aunt, I settled in Gillette Wyoming. I believe the year was 1967. I graduated high school in Gillette and my father still lives there.

Besides dealing with the cultural change you get when moving from the middle east to the states, I was also dealing with the emotions any 9 year old would go through as their parents did the whole divorce ritual.

In an effort to absolutely maximize the shock of a changing life, I was blessed with an education in the phenomena commonly called bullies.

The concept of being picked on at school was completely foreign to me. It just didn't happen in Dhahran. As a result, when I showed up in elementary school in Wyoming where all the aspiring hoodlums need to take a whack at the new kid in town, I had no clue how to deal with the situation.

For those of you who don't know me well, it's worth mentioning that I've always been somewhat outspoken (much like falling off a motorcycle at 65 miles an hour is SOMEWHAT abrasive to your skin).

The net result was that my elementary and middle school experience was quite terrifying and probably the most disturbing period of my existence. It was a rare day indeed when I didn't get punched, kicked or in some other way abused for no apparent reason.

Often the dark clouds in our lives come packaged with a silver lining. Mine came in the form of Dennis, Joe and Scott - my best friends at the time. I know Dennis and Scott were signed up for membership in the same "hit me, push me, embarrass me as much as possible" club. In my memory of these events of over 40 years ago I believe Joe had a bit of acceptance by the "cool kids" and I don't recall him being a punching bag.

The five year period from mid fourth grade through the middle of grade 9 were more or less something out of a horror movie for me.

Then a period of my life that I now affectionately label "Becoming" began. As I reflect back I believe the catalyst that marked the end the horror movie and the beginning of "becoming" was a specific incident.

Dennis was my best friend and to this day is one of only two people who have been a constant life-long positive connection. It began when I met him in the 5th grade and must have still been going on when he served as the best man at my wedding. We are still connected today and I expect he will comment on this blog. Dennis, like Scott and I, spent plenty of time getting picked on by the bullies. Then Dennis moved away. He lived in Long Beach, California for a number of years and returned in the 9th grade.

It was the middle of my freshman year of high school when Dennis returned. It didn't take long at all before a group of kids that used to always pick on him (and me, and Scott, and everyone else that looked like a walking punching bag) decided to pick up where they left off multiple years earlier. One of the more obnoxious members of the group was a kid named John.

We were in a social studies class and John decided it was appropriate and necessary to humiliate Dennis by making fun of a facial feature or some such thing. The first iteration Dennis, more politely than I expect was necessary, asked John to leave him alone. That didn't work so well and John just escalated. Next Dennis simply said, "You REALLY don't want to do this" but this only brought some of John's buddies into the mix. Dennis made a final statement of "Wait until after class" to which taunts of "oooh, ahhh he's going to get us after class" was finally squashed by the teacher.

Needless to say John and his little gang of thugs would be waiting for Dennis in the hall as Dennis exited the class.

As I mentioned earlier, Dennis went through a transformation in Long beach. School bullies in Gillette, Wyoming - population 8,000 are a very mild annoyance when compared to the knife wielding, gang bangers who would be inclined to send you to the hospital if you were unfortunate enough to get in a fight.

In Gillette the "bad guys" would knock your books out of your hand, put gum in your hair, or if they were really feeling violent they might deliver an undeserved punch in the stomach. In Long beach the offer was a ride in the ambulance and it was there when Dennis REALLY learned how to deal with bullies.

The other thing that changed Dennis in California was gymnastics. Dennis was a typical puny weakling, the kind of kid bullies love to punch when he left. When he got back he was stronger than he had ever been in his life. I remember him walking down the sidewalk on his hands and seeing an ant, he had the coordination, balance and strength that allowed him to do a push-up style move (while staying inverted) and smashing the ant with his nose. Like I said he was stronger.

As John and his little trouble making buddies waited for us in the hall, Dennis and I exited the classroom. The thing that happened next literally changed my life direction. John stepped forward and offered another anatomical insult and Dennis calmly reached forward and grabbed a handful of John's shirt. With one hand and a simple motion Dennis lifted John by his shirt until John's feet were a good 3 inches from the ground. Dennis then took a step forward and slammed John's wiggling body against the lockers, his feet still unable to reach the floor. As John's "tough guy" buddies slowly backed away Dennis calmly explained the facts of life to John.

"I'm not the scared kid I used to be in the 6th grade and I'm really not going to put up with you like I used to back then. I understand that you are stupid and didn't know any better in there" gesturing with his free hand while John dangled from the other, "but if you have anything else to say about me that I don't like, I am going to have to hurt you".

With that Dennis tossed John on the floor much like any gymnast would discard a towel after wiping sweat from his face following an awesome routine on the rings. As John and his loser allies watched in stunned reverence, Dennis turned and walked away. He walked away from the insults. He walked away from the sucker punches and shoves from behind. He walked away from the list of the weak and undeserving.

To this day, nearly 40 years later, Dennis probably never realized that he was the inspiration that caused me to deck John's friend Mike a short time later when he shoved and then punched me in shop class.

After Mike there was Jed and Pat and a host of others that used the weak as their entertainment. One by one they observed first hand that you could insult me all you wanted and I would simply walk away but if you touched me; a push, a punch, gum in the hair - any unwanted physical contact, and they were in a fight (and win, lose. or draw - you were going to take some damage).

By the end of my Sophomore year the bullies had all moved on to other targets, and I was knee deep into a transformation. I'm quite sure I never shared the signifigance of this milestone with my friend. I'm not certain I realized the genesis nature of this particular event in the transformation to my current persona. I'm often called over-confident, even arrogant but nobody that knows me these days would ever describe me using the words "shy" or "timid". It's just not who I am anymore (ask the guy who tried to mug me in Brazil).

It's interesting to me. I sat down to write about an event that happened near the end of my Junior year and that story just came out. Writing is a strange and wonderful practice.

01) Student Body Vice President

2009-08-18T20:10:00.000-07:00

I started my high school years as an insecure, terrified member at the low end of the school social structure. I was a constant target for punches and humiliation delivered by those who were not strong enough to fight with the kids who loved to fight, but felt some kind of a need to dilute themselves into believing they were strong in some way.

A transformation from the scared nerd that was me in the 9th grade to my college years where I was one of the more successful and popular people on campus had a significant mile stone at the end of my Junior year when I was elected into the office of Vice President of the student body.

I learned an important lesson that year. A lesson that guides my choices to this day, something significant enough to earn membership in the top 10 experiences that shaped me most.

I did not attend every high school so I can only speculate but I expect they all had some students (a small subset) that lived in the lime light, and another group (much larger this time) that are more or less invisible outside their own very small social circles.

Prior to my Junior year I had never been involved in the student lime light. I never heard the crowd on the bleachers go wild after stealing the basketball and rocketing down the court and doing a lay-up. I never caught a pass to score the winning touchdown or had the lead in a play. When they were choosing the home coming king I'm quite sure my name never came up. I was a strong member of the invisible majority.

Every year there were student elections of the student council members. Each year it seemed to be the same thing. The "popular" kids would put their posters up, pass out some kind of trinkets in the halls and wait for the invisible masses to do their duty and re-elect them into their continuing roles as the social leaders. Meanwhile the invisible majority would complain that it was always the popular kids and they weren't doing anything.

Another year rolled around. Another set of posters went up. Another group of campaign slogans was written and the annual re-run that was student council elections started yet again.

About a week prior to the voting, an announcement went over the school wide PA system. There would be an assembly next Thursday where the candidates would be given an opportunity to pontificate eloquently on their pedigrees and why they alone should be bestowed with the honor of the office for which they were running. As the announcement blared out of the speaker and yet another of the invisible ones raised the same old complaint of nobody doing anything I had an epiphany.

An all school assembly. The candidates would be given an opportunity to speak at an all school assembly. I was 15 years old, 5 feet 10 inches tall, and 130 pounds soaking wet. I had a big mouth and something to say. I went straight to the office and registered as a candidate.

The next day I put up a single campaign poster. It simply said "Jim Crawford is running for student body Vice President". It did not say to vote for me. That was not my desire in running. It did not have a snappy campaign slogan like "Eat a lolly and vote for Molly" (my competition for the VP seat spent a good portion of each day passing out tootsie roll pops with this slogan attached to the stick). It was not multi-colored and it was not in every hallway in school (like the multiple posters most candidates put up). For me the campaign was over. It was all about the assembly.

Thursday rolled around. I don't recall the order of the speeches and I expect I didn't prepare much in the way of a script. I do recall that I didn't practice my speech and I remember that I followed Cindy Radden.

Cindy was a cheerleader every year for as long as I can remember. I seem to recall seeing her in the role of cheerleader at the college in Casper Wyoming when I came up to visit Dennis who was attending there so I assume her role in the lime light did not fade immediately after high school. Cindy was popular and without a doubt she was the nicest popular person who ever attended Campbell County High School. I hope good things continued to happen to her -- but I digress.

As part of her attention grabber at the beginning of her speech Cindy pulled out a massive pack of "speech notes". She began her presentation and seemed to be working off the first page and then in a well practiced theatric move she "accidently" dropped the speech. As a dozen pages of white paper floated to the floor Cindy went into the real speech which was memorized and flawless. Her speech ended, appropriate applause was delivered and it was my turn.

As I walked to the stage I had an sudden impulse and I stopped with my back to the crowd. Slowly, I bent over and one by one, picked up the pages that were Cindy's speech. I turned, faced the crowd and exclaimed

"This is Déjà Vu all over again. Every year they have an election. Every year the same people paper the walls with their tired campaign slogans. Every year you sit, invisible to the illuminated ones, and complain. Every year you elect the same popular people into their leadership roles and once again fade back into the shadows of obscurity. Every year I watch another redundant cycle and I wonder."

I hoisted the papers I just gathered off the floor into the air.

"I wonder if I just did more for the school than any of them! I wonder what they do at their meetings. Perhaps they pass around lolly pops and..."

The crowd erupted into violent cheering and applause. I really don't remember the rest. I still recall the reason for my actions. I wanted a chance to tell the rest of my invisible counterparts that we had no right to complain because we were playing our role just as the popular kids were. You couldn't do the same thing year after year and expect a result that was any different. Further - if we chose to put them in we really had no right to complain. We knew how the story was going to end. We watched it play out last year, and the year before, and the year before that.

It's been close to 40 years and I don't remember it all, but I remember this. Chris Huff was a guy who I had a significant fist fight with the previous year. The battle was an attempt to communicate my displeasure in his hobby of pushing and hitting me. I recall I had just gotten my class ring and to this day I have a clear mental image of my new ring opening his forehead above his right eye when I delivered the decisive blow in the battle. Chris and I both got a short in-school suspension over the ruckus. Chris never pushed or hit me again (as is typically the case with bullies). We also had never talked to one another since. It was a still Thursday, a couple of hours after the assembly when Chris walked up to me in the hall. He looked me right in the eye and announced "I voted for you. I don't know why but I voted for you". He then patted me on the shoulder and went on down the hall.

The next day the election results were announced. I won the election by a massive land slide and for the first time since middle school, Polly didn't have a place on the council.

When I entered the election I had no intent on winning. All I wanted to do was to gain a public forum where I could tell the invisible people to stop doing the same thing while hoping for a different result. Instead I learned an important life lesson.

People are looking for someone to follow. It's a simple but powerful fact. If you are willing to declare yourself as the leader it really doesn't take much to get a crowd to march along with you. The world shifted on its axis for me a bit that day.

Since that time I've considered tragedies like the ones caused by Jim Jones and what I affectionately called "Those wackos in Waco". I've watched moral, intelligent men like Jimmy Carter fail and weak leaders like George Bush prevail. I believe there is a great deal of responsibility with many leadership roles but if you really want it - just stand up and start down the road in a direction you feel strongly about. It won't be long before you begin to attract a crowd and get them marching the same direction.

Little Guy With a Big Mouth

2009-08-17T10:18:00.000-07:00

I used to get picked on a great deal back in my younger days. I always like to say "I was a little guy with a big mouth back then".

Yesterday at lunch I made that statement followed by "I was voted most changed at the 20 year class reunion because I'm so big now".

Michelle looked me over and said "Yes, it looks like you've almost grown into your mouth".

Reflections

2009-08-15T06:51:00.000-07:00

I've started something that some would call memoirs. I'm calling it the collection. It's about my life philosophy. It's about life accomplishments. It's about life.

The process of organizing such a thing takes a great deal of time and reflection and generates volumes of captured information. This blog will be sharing some of that information in the near future and I decided to start with multiple top 10 lists.

A couple of evenings ago I spent some time contemplating which events shaped me the most. The list I came up with is posted at the right. In the future I'll come up with other top 10 lists which will include (but not be limited to):

10 most dangerous experiences
10 favorite memories
10 most difficult experiences
10 experiences with Michelle
10 experiences with Shane
10 experiences with Mandy
10 most influencial Friends (that should be dangerous)
10 stories from Wyoming
10 stories from Texas
10 best pictures and the story behind them (that should be a challenge - I have over 17,000 digital photographs)

Now you get to comment! What other "Top 10" lists of experiences can you come up with?

Followers - Calling Followers!

2009-08-14T09:50:00.001-07:00

It's nearly embarrassing. I go over to Mandy's house and she leaves her laptop right out there where God and everybody can see it. If she has her blog up (hey, I'm not invading privacy...you can get there yourself going to jackandmandy.blogspot dot com ) I see that she has dozens (maybe hundreds, who knows) of followers.

I need some followers. If you're reading this you need to consider signing up as a follower.

I'm writing but with only one person reading how is one to stay motivated?

Imagine...(but not the one by John Lennon)

2009-08-13T10:04:00.000-07:00

Imagine you had a little dog that was old and deaf and timid.

Imagine that you had a neighbor that had a dog that was young and tough and agressive.

Imagine that yesterday was your anniversary and you had a big ole rib bone from a 22 oz Bone in Delmonico.

Congrats - you've set the stage.

Now imagine you give the rib bone to the timmid little deaf dog (making her quite happy) and a few minutes later, to your surprise, your neighbor sneaks over to your house and turns her young, tough agressive dog loose in your house.

Yup. That might be bad (and quite loud as it turns out too).

X minus 10

2009-08-12T03:47:00.000-07:00

I haven't figured out the secret to eternal youth yet but I'm ready to declare myself knowledgeable about weight loss. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I've reached the ideal weight or live the perfect healthy life, I'm saying I've found the nugget of gold.

The secret to weight loss is you need to be really fat!

During my AH-HA! moment I actually said "I wish I weighed 150 more pounds because then I could eat even more!"

The calorie consumption allowed by the software is determined by a number of factors and your starting weight is one of them. The more you weigh, the more you get to eat.

Then there is exercise. Same thing. Michelle and I were planning an exercise session and noticed that if we do a brisk walk for an hour she would burn 180 calories. Walking at her side for the same hour I blast through over 400 calories which gives me the opportunity to scarf down another full meal following her consumption scale (as miniscule as it is).

Here's another tip for having your diet work. Eat all the wrong stuff.

For decades I've been wolfing down chicken fried steak, double quarter pounders, and let's not forget that second helping of cherry pie. Eating like that sets a wonderful foundation for weight loss because when you switch over to egg whites and salad you can consume an amazing volume and still slash your calorie count.

Anyway it seems to be working. I've been at it for two weeks and I've managed to dump a wee bit over 10 pounds so far.

What if it's Unlimited Golf?

2009-08-06T15:51:00.000-07:00

I'm sure you find yourself spending hours pondering how you would solve the following problem:

What would I do to maximize my minature golf time if I found myself in an "unlimited games" situation without notice?

It's obvious that one must ponder (and solve) this problem prior to an event where one is faced with an actual "as many rounds as you want" situation. Failure to do so would find you unprepared to deal with the situation, should it happen in real life.

Here's how you do it.

Each hole offers you two strokes or less. If you finish the hole in two strokes or less you don't get a point. If you hit the ball twice and it isn't in the hole yet, you pick it up (and take a point).

It's fast and it doesn't require a score card! This will maximize your total hole count while minimizing the required time.

...and for those of you who like to spice it up a little...

Here's a nice revision rule. Everyone hits once and then everyone goes again (i.e. take turns). Standard rules of golf apply as far as the tee off order (because going first is a disadvantage as you'll soon see).

Here's the fun part. If you hit someone else's ball your stroke doesn't count and you take another shot right away. It puts a bit-o-the croquet strategy in the game (and makes it possible to get a hole in zero which almost certainly puts you first in the next tee box).

2009-08-06T09:55:00.000-07:00

I attended a meeting at work. One of the pictures on the slide was this one:

Next thing you know I've left the flow of the meeting mentally and all I could think was

"That man is going to hit the little boy in the face with a bat!".

It was quite disturbing.

Apparently I was an aspiring poet...

2009-08-01T15:45:00.001-07:00

I was going through papers in the garage and I found a paper marked in such a way to establish that I worte it on February 11, 1971 (which means I was 13) Here's my prose...

Once upon a time, way up in a tree
there was a little bird. His name was chickidee.
An then we found an empty dish, owned by a cat name flerp.
I yelled "Where is my little bird?" but all he said was burp!

Once there was a dog, so masculent and tuff.
He was very proud. His master named him Ruff.
Ten one day a cat named moo killed the cow named joe.
The dog named Ruff didn't care how much that cat did grow.
Until one day when moo came down to see the dog named Ruff.
The dog and cat had a fight but neither one was tough.
Ruff had made a big mistake, he bit the belly of the cat.
From the meat that came form joe there was a giant splat.

Once there was a little kid who ran around the block.
He never wore all of his shoes and tried to eat his sock.
Then his mama said, "Hey Kid? What you tryin to do!"
He answered "Nothing really mom, The dog just ate my shoe".

Once there was a baker man who baked the cakes all night.
He finally got to take a rest, he fired some dinomite.

Little Jack Horner sat in the corner, eating his Chirsmas pie.
He stuck in his thumb and pulled out his little sister and said
"Hey, what are you doing?"

Once upon a time there was a kid name Joe.
He never sucked his thumb, he always sucked his toe.
This was fine and Dandy until very soon
His favorite sucking toe looked just like a prune.

Ole mother Hubbard sat in the cupboard eating her dog named Joe.
Along came a spider who sat down beside her - and bit her on the toe.

Once there was a very old man who ate a lot of fish.
Then one day he fell down and car ran over him. Squish!

Jack be nimble Jack be quick or I'll hit you with a stick.

Once thre was a banana that crunched and muched and chewed,
but never eat a banana cause it's no kind of food.

I wish I had a nickel for every"A" that's come. I run down to the 5 and dime
to buy a pack of gum.

If I had a nickel for every time I'm wrong I could buy a first class trip
to see the viet cong!

Something Important to Know

2009-08-01T15:27:00.000-07:00

I believe I wrote earlier to say I was exercising and watching what I eat. I hit my highest weight of my life (299 lbs) and REALLY didn't want to get 1 pound heavier. I got some software to help me choose my foods better, started eating different and started exercising.

My wife (who REALLY doesn't need to lose weight - she put her wedding dress back on when Mandy was engaged) decided to track her stuff too.

Yesterday we went out and excersized and I learned something very important. It's good to be fat! We came home and entered out exercise into the food/exercise software and I got twice as many calories for my exercise as Michelle got for hers. That is nice! It makes me want to put on another 150 lbs so I can burn even MORE calories when I work out.

I suppose me walking around is like Michelle walking around carrying Mandy and that's why I get more but whatever the reason...it's something important to know.