Top 20 Replies

A little over-Digged, but I saw Luke's link and enjoyed it nonetheless...Top 20 Replies by Programmers to Testers When Their Programs Don't Work. I am amused that Luke's link actually says dev-to-qa in the link text. I'm not sure if he's implying that's the only place it happens, or if he has a completely different set for qa/qc to production.

Book Exchange

On Sunday we were at the Dunn Brothers coffee closest to us. I really like Dunn Brothers - good coffee, general focus on the customer with more than your average number of comfortable chairs, toys for the kids, books and magazines lying around, cheap refills...it's all good. This Dunn Brothers had a book exchange, a book shelf where you could just pick and book and walk off with it, for good. You were encouraged to leave books as well, but it wasn't a swap - it was a communistic take according to your need, give according to your ability, sort of system. Given the nature of the system, I was a bit confused that the top shelf contained no less than four Oliver North books (by Oliver, not about him). Seems at odds with the ideal. But maybe things all work a bit differently down in Lakeville.

Gay Subtext?

While we were at Half Price books, I noticed there was a "classical" kids clearance section: books that are really old and at a reduced price. The one that caught my eye was "That's Our Cleo! And Other Stories About Cats" (Amazon...ours has a different cover with a boy and his siamese) from 1966. I find it a little creepy that the boy on the cover looks slightly like me when I was a kid...(ut oh, guess that means I better take a picture)...but then I think he's meant to look like your average brown-haired late-60's kid. Then again, he doesn't have a big birthmark over his left eyebrow, so the resemblance is really rather limited.

The first story, about Cleo, is how Cleo is actually scamming three different sets of owners for food under different aliases, all the while getting fatter and fatter, so fat she can't even jump from garbage can to garbage can or off the footstool. I was amused to see that one set of owners were Joe and Bob, "young bachelors" who "cooked all kinds of good things" like whitefish in caper sauce, tuna fish with cream and crab-meat salad and who named Cleo "Juliet". A couple of pages later when Bob takes "Juliet" to the vet and the vet suspects he's seen Juliet/Cleo before, Bob replies, "Oh, no, I don't think so...My friend and I live together and this is our cat."

Damning evidence if you ask me. Not that I care. Joe and Bob could just as well be Wanda Wisdom and Miss Richfield and their cat, and I'd still read it to Eryn, it's just amusing to see what looks like it might be subtext in a kids '60's cat tales book.

Richard III - Again?

Coincidence is weird. I see what looks to be Clarence drowning in his butt of malmsey in our bathtub (that butt's for you, PrincessMax), and within a few hours of reading The Eyre Affair (alt, Amazon), the Swindon actors are putting on Richard III in what amounts to Rocky Horror Picture Show style. Now today, I'm reading the second Jasper Fforde Thursday Next novel, Lost in a Good Book (alt, Amazon), and much of it centers on coincidence and decreasing entropy fields. Must be one around here somewhere.

I bought The Eyre Affair at Uncle Hugo's bookstore at the same time I purchased The Blue Fairy book for Eryn just because it was on the staff recommendation shelf, and I'm a sucker for a book someone else recommends as long as I can be fairly certain that it isn't about a beseiged warrior queen who may have to choose between her kingdom or true love. That's not a real book, by the way, but the fact that it seems like a plot you may have read or read about assures you that it's a peril to be avoided. At the time I had no idea it was part of a series, but I enjoyed the first one enough to find the other two at Half Price books (there may be three, but only two were in the Half Price paperback section). It reads part science fiction, part fantasy, part literary snobbishness, and approaches its story more like Harry Potter or Discworld than anything else, just throwing out haphazzard story ideas and pulling them back in with abandon, many of them just to liven up the story and non-integral to the overall plot - rather, just crazy local color in a world that revolves around literature. Examples? Wales as a sort of communist, separatist state, the idea of Great Britain ceding a single town in Kent to the Russians as war reparations, and the aforementioned Rocky Horror-esque production, complete with the audience chanting litany responses at the stage.

As a particular, I liked this quote in chapter 16. For some reason it reminds me of Klund:

"...The finest criminal mind requires the finest accomplices to accompany him. Otherwise, what's the point? I always found that I could never apply my most deranged plans without someone to share and appreciate them. I'm like that. Very generous..." Acheron Hades, --Degeneracy for Pleasure and Profit

Thanksgiving Weekend

It's sad that our Thanksgiving weekend is coming to a close. Four days is just a lot of fun to hang out, and by the fourth day, the Scooter family begins to fully, completely relax and have no expectations for the day. Our day consisted of: 1.) going to the park, 2.) going to lunch, 3.) going to Dunn Brothers for a cup of coffee and to read...you can increment one if you include "sleep in". We did accomplish the minor task of picking up paperwork at the rental property...ooo.

Some pictures from the weekend...Eryn hanging out with great grandma Millie on Thanksgiving day.


Thanksgiving "dinner". Do I look hungry? We had at least seven fewer people eating this year...makes a big difference in how full the house feels. That's Lloyd in the foreground...he took all the poker money. Eryn is indeed in a change of clothes...potty training has its successes and its failures. But she's sporting the new outfit Grandma Ellen made for her. I'm not sure if this is before or after Pooteewheet figured out how to put the blouse on correctly.


Conner came later. He'd already eaten some turkey, but was feeling the need for a balanced diet. I picture Adam looking like this when Eve gave him the apple in the garden.


Non-turkey day video of Eryn just running around in a big circle at the park. We can't afford fancy exercise equipment like my friend Klund, so instead we make Eryn run laps.

He asked for malmsey

Lest there be any doubt that I was originally an English Lit./English History dual major, this scene Eryn staged in the bathtub reminded me of the Duke of Clarence's death in a vat of malmsey in Richard III. I realize that gives Richard III two humps instead of just one, but that just makes him seem all the more evil.

Thanksgiving, Job, Birthday

It's Thanksgiving, so happy Thanksgiving to everyone. We'll have a few less guests than last year but, on a positive note, that means we cook one turkey, not two. It's "have Thanksgiving with the other side of the family" for many of Pooteewheet's relatives. I don't think we'll get through all that gravy and I wonder if I have to regift my Uncle-in-law's corporate turkey (he works with me, we get a Thankgiving turkey for life if we retire) back to him. Maybe I'll just cook it in a few weeks and make him have lunch with me on the leftovers.

It's been a little over a week now, but I'm 95% of the way to 40. Pooteewheet got me a very cool thermal coffeemaker a little early. I use the thing obsessively and have started making coffee to share at work every other week, which is easier now that half of it doesn't leak out the bottom of the coffeemaker and all over the white countertop. And I make coffee and just take the thermal pot with me to the rental property when I'm painting and cleaning and doing yardwork. It tends to stay hot and drinkable for about 24 hours.

Almost on top of the change in age, but unrelated, I have a new job. She Says should take comfort in the fact that it's an internal move, not a job at a whole new company, and a lateral move, I poked around at promotion opportunities, but eventually picked the job where I thought I'd do the most good for the company (which includes making me happy, a happy Scooter is a very productive Scooter). I did have to do a lot of interviewing, but I had an advantage in that I have access to documentation and wikis and a willingness to absolutely consume information. It is a big change in that I won't be coding anymore except as a hobby (that's not a commitment to code CDFFL, Mean Mr. Mustard). Instead I'll be working with a variety of company groups to make sure they get the functionality they need. Sounds sort of project manager-ish when I put it that way, but that's not quite the truth of it - there's training and maybe some travel. Friends and family are invited to contact me about details if they're interested.

And I'd like to show you my favorite birthday card, which I got from Sandy, my old project lead. The punchline is, of course, "I can't run again."

Two Inappropriate Work Experiences

Yesterday, as I was headed to my cube, walking across the skyway, there was a woman in front of me with a jean jacket on that hung just below her belt line. All around the bottom, where there's an elastic edge, it said, "B.U.M." B.U.M. on the left, B.U.M. on the right, B.U.M. directly over her BUM. All I could think was "yes it is."

Today, a woman in a cube near mine was cleaning her keyboard wrist guard. A mostly clear gel keyboard wrist guard. It was kind of floppy, and she had a cloth, and she just kept wiping it up, and letting it droop. And wiping it up, and letting it droop. And wiping it up, and letting it droop. It looked like she was clutching the world's largest dildo.

Ya Know Those Videos of Terrified Kids...?

I'm not going to subject you to the video of me giving Eryn wedgies in her new Dora underwear. She's been working on potty training now that the whole constipation thing is past, and we put her in her Dora underwear for practice now and then. This weekend I announced, "Wedgie time!" which is usually the cue for her to respond, "Dad...I'm wearing a diaper.", but this time she was wearing panties. So instead, she exclaimed, "Give me a wedgie!" and ran over and pointed herself butt-first at me. Wanting my child to be wise in the ways of the world, I told her, "You know honey, wedgies are supposed to be uncomfortable. No one really wants a wedgie. It doesn't feel good to have your underpants up your butt." And Eryn assured me that she did indeed still want one. So I (on video, thanks Pooteewheet) grabbed her underpants and gave her the wedgie she so desparately craved. She laughed, and then chastised me for giving her a two-handed wedgie instead of a single-handed wedgie. I tried to explain that at least I hadn't given her an atomic wedgie (as threatened), but my kindness fell on deaf ears.

So much for what I'm not going to make you watch. Today we took Eryn to the Mall of America so she could try the rides that were for kids taller than 42". Yes...she's 3. Seriously annoying. Even though she now has a season pass courtesy of my brother, we have to pay more to go so that we can take her on the older kid rides. Her new favorite? Bumper cars. She can't drive at 42", but she can be a rider, and she loves them. Here's a pic of her and Pooteewheet and a video of me and her. We're hoping her cousin Ollie gets old enough soon that he can go with her so our role goes away. We're not holding out hope for her other cousin (my sister's daughter), A...she's going to be sub-42" for the next 8 years.


Here be video...


While the bumper cars were appreciated...the froghopper was not. What's a froghopper? It's this ride that goes up and then sort of jerk-bounces down giving the rider some jolts. It's designed for kids just over the 42" mark. When we walked up, three boys had just gotten on, each of them separated by one seat - clearly practicing their bathroom ettiquette. Eryn, with some help from Pooteewheet, found herself a seat...



And then the trouble started. This is 15 seconds of video, after which I quit taping so that I could engage my whole attention upon assuring her that after 5...no 6...no 7...um....soon...the ride would stop....seriously honey, it's going to be over. I know it's hurting your butt, but it'll be over... Yeah...one of those not sure whether to laugh or tell the ride guy to shut it the f*** down. But she lived...so it must have been character building. It did convince her that the Screaming Yellow Eagle and Ripsaw Roller Coaster might be best left for a later excursion...see...smart girl.



Finally, to the guy running the carousel who looks hispanic, but was lipsyncing all the words that were playing over the pa by some obviously anglo female (seriously, she sounded blond), that was damn funny. As funny as you seemed to think it was.

You'll Get No Spoilers From Me

Today I went to the new James Bond movie, Casino Royale. It went something like this...

Big chase scene, other big chase scene, casino (women with lots of cleavage mixed in)...pager call from the group I haven't been with for over a year (don't worry, no ringing, I had it on vibrate), application issues, "can you call?", no name or number. As far as I'm concerned, you never let a pager call go unresolved, even if it's not your project, so I left the theater while Bond was playing poker and called Pooteewheet and had her look up phone numbers on dexonline for a few people on the old project. When she finally found one I was sure was correct (say what you will about me, but the fact I know that their project lead lives in St. Paul and I had an idea of what street, tells you I pay attention when people are talking about themselves) I had her dial and act as a verbal gobetween while I related second hand to the tech lead what I knew, which was damn little. He was going to talk to operations and I figured it was all resolved. So I walked back in the theater to see the female lead crying in the shower and Bond comforting her. I'd obviously missed something important.

Gambling...more gambling...TallBrad would obviously enjoy this movie. Some exciting stuff. Some more gambling...some more exciting stuff...Bond is in trouble and he's just been put in his enemy's hands. Thirty minutes have passed. Pager (my phone) vibrates again. Alert again, this time with numbers. So back out of the theater. I call one of the numbers and catch P* from "the other building" (i.e. hardware and installed software - IIS, SQL, that sort of thing) who says he hasn't heard from anyone yet. I give him information that I'm no longer with the project, but that I called the tech lead earlier and put him on to the fact and he can find the tech lead by looking up this name+street combination in dexonline. He's happy to know someone is at least aware of the issue. To follow up, I find a theater employee with a pen. I call Pooteewheet who gives me the tech lead's number, and I write it and the two numbers on the pager down on a napkin from the concession counter. I call the tech lead, who's not home and leave the pager numbers. I call P* back and give him tech lead's number and my firm belief that tech lead is probably not at home now because he's on his way into the building (work, not movie theater) to help resolve the problem.

I walk back into the theater. Bond has escaped (seriously, that's not a spoiler) and something completely different is going on and I have no ideas how he got there. It's much closer to the end of the movie and though I suspect there's a good twist left, I have a feeling it hinges upon the bit I missed. I pack it in, head home, and call the tech lead at the office just to make sure he's there and knows who I talked to and the numbers.

On the bright side, he had to go to work and I didn't, but he also didn't have to waste a bunch of money missing the important parts of a movie.

Turkey Gravy

Pooteewheet bought us turkey gravy for our Thanksgiving feast. This would have been fine, except the turkey I get from work comes with a gravy packet in it. The last two years I forgot about the built-in gravy and bought packets. This year she forgot. It's starting to add up, particularly when some of the gravy has 25% more! (5 servings of gravy, instead of 4). We now have gravy for 29 Thanksgiving visitors if you don't count what comes with the turkey. If nuclear apocalypse comes and disrupts the food supply, I think it will help make the dog and cat a bit more edible (insert you own A Boy and His Dog joke here if you know the ending).

Situational Leadership II

It was noted in class that of the four types of tasks, there is one that works two different ways. The individual with much knowledge, but little motivation. You may be R3 developmental as regards a task - meaning that you're just worried about your capabilities, even though they're there. You may be R3 regressive as regards a task, meaning you've done it so many times, or don't see the benefit to yourself, so you're not interested in doing it, or doing it "one more time."

One archetype suggested for an R3 was Lance Armstrong, which led me to realize that I may be the Lance Armstrong of my project. No, I don't have only one testicle...I meant there's an appropriate metaphor.

Situational Leadership

I have two days of Situational Leadership class this week. The short version...there are four kinds of leadership that are mixtures of motivation and direction (teaching). There are four kinds of following, that are mixtures of ability and motivation/desire. Put them on opposite axes of a grid and the intersection shows the appropriate leading style for the appropriate following style and also points out where you're overleading and underleading.

So what have I learned? I was a pretty good assessor before I started the course. I never delegate to someone who shouldn't be delegated to, yet still delegate to someone who's competent and motivated. I seldom underlead, but tend to overlead just a little, particularly with followers who already have good skills. I believe that - I have a tendency to like good programmers and smart people and I take time to make sure I talk to them about their opportunities, ways to further their knowledge, and how that can be applied to their career, even when I know they have opinions and tracks of their own.

The funniest example today, however, was a question about how to apply your skills on your wife. Seems she's doing all the shopping (food shopping, she volunteered), but she's not buying enough of the basics and the bill is really high. So, lots of motivation, not good skills. How do you best handle it? Talk to her about it? Not quite. Apparently you should explain the problem, and then next time the grocery list is put together, validate the list to make sure it stays within budget. Hmm... Seems to me that's a good way to end up doing all the shopping yourself. Hey baby, I appreciate you're doing the shopping, but I don't think you know how to do it right. Reminds me of when Snewby's girlfriend told him to just stop and think in the grocery store one time. That was the definitive end of their relationship. If they're not going to advocate grocery shopping together, or working on a list together, I think they should add the word "secretly" in front of "check the grocery list" so at least there's no confusion about what it is you're answering.

Moviemania

I had Monday off, and Eryn was gone on Sunday and most of Monday. I spent some time working both days, but managed to sneak in not one, but two movies, with Pooteewheet. Two at the theater that is, we also watched two at home via Netflix:

The Prestige - amazingly good. We watched The Illusionist a few months ago, and when we did, I thought I was going to this movie as I'd seen the previews already and it looked suspenseful. The Illusionist was not suspenseful. This movie was. They really pushed the rivalry between the magicians and how it is almost unnatural in its intensity, until it actually becomes unnatural. Really a wild tale.

Deliver Us From Evil - worthy of the 100% it got on Rottentomatoes. Mean Mr. Mustard might remember all the issues the Catholics diocese in L.A. was having in the '80's, and this documentary follows the path of a pedophile priest as he's transferred from church to church to keep him away from the law and smooth the path for the priests in power. It's amazing, because this priest, who's free and living in Ireland (for a while with a family with children, unaware of his history as a pedophile), has a history of abusing so many children, and in his demeanor he doesn't seem repentant at all. You expect him to give more than lip service in his apologies, but instead you get the feeling that his apologies are only a way to force his victims to have to forgive him in an attempt to victimize them all over again.

The Future of Food - a little boring because I already knew so much of this, and because it parallels Fast Food Nation (which I read) in some ways. I find the idea of suicide/terminator seeds terrifying, and the fact that bioengineered plants spread like the dinosaurs on Jurrasic Park and the patent infringement falls on the farmer whose field has been contaminated is something that only seed companies can understand, because it makes no f-ing logical sense. How the hell can you throw your crap on someone else's property and then accuse them of keeping it in violation of patent law when they can't tell it apart from their own crap without a plant-by-plant genetic test? You might as well claim a patent on a kind of dirt, throw it in their yard, and claim patent infringement.

Kinky Boots - Just another version of all those movies where someone turns their business around with something "different"...like growing pot, or selling your cheese as a new hockey rink surface...in this case it's turning a men's shoe factory into a boot factory for cross dressers. You know that during the transition an important life lesson is learned...like pot is really evil, or cheese makes a shitty substitute for ice, or cross dressers are people too. If you've seen one of those other movies, you've seen this one, and the one you saw was probably better.

Heroes of Might and Magic V

I've been playing Heroes of Might and Magic V (that's right, it's wikiable) a little, usually with my friend Dan'l, and I swear, that every once in a while it breaks into a riff from Lionel Richie's "Penny Lover". Not only is that just not at all appropriate for computer gaming, but it gives me flash backs to slow dancing in the basements of high school girl friends in my pre-driving-license days. There's no way to break you out of the immersion of a fantasy game faster than that.

A Burrito is NOT a Sandwich

So sayeth the court, and they do their research, " Superior Court Judge Jeffrey Locke cited Webster's Dictionary as well as testimony from a chef and a former high-ranking federal agriculture official."

"A sandwich is not commonly understood to include burritos, tacos and quesadillas, which are typically made with a single tortilla and stuffed with a choice filling of meat, rice, and beans," Locke wrote in a decision released last week.

What if you take two burritos and stick a bunch of meat between them, and then eat the whole thing?

Friends Have Been Posting

So there have been elections, Rummy's resigned, and all sorts of goings on, and what have I been blogging about? Pooping, chess matches in Australia, big rats in the parking lot, and rental property. Just to make sure no one is worried, Pooteewheet, Eryn and I did go to vote. Eryn couldn't vote, but she was interested in watching the process and took very seriously her orders not to talk about individual candidates while in the polling place.

Fortunately, the bloggers on my "friends, not family" list are really busy and have some good posts this week. I summarize a few of my favorites (before I sadly go back to working on the code for release that is keeping me out of code camp today).

Unblague wishes everyone a Happy Veteran's Day. A shout out to vets everywhere, particularly my friend Dan'l. Hope he gets some quiet time to himself today to blow up things on the computer.

Speaking of Dan'l, Joe the Povert notes that robots think we taste like bacon. Based on the amount of bacon Dan'l has consumed in his life, there's probably some validity to this. I think it's amusing someone else tasted like prosciutto...what's that about, you taste like bacon with a little bit of b.o. funk?

Robots apparently have jokes of their own they tell to each other about themselves. Fimoculous links to McSweeney's. I like the one about knock knock, who's there, a robot, oh, shit. Reminds me of Eryn's "spooky man" joke which just ends with maniacal laughter.

Boing Boing points out that someone is trying to create Elvish Esperanto. Yeah, Boing Boing can't possibly be my "friend" (although in MySpace parlance, everyone can be my friend - so...well...there), but Kyle is, and he once tried to teach himself runes (actually, I think he succeeded, it wasn't just trying), so that link is for him. He can whip out his mad elvish esperanto skillz at the next boardgaming day.

Steve Eck blogs about Ms. Dewey, the search engine with video interaction. That's a lot of waiting for a search - but certainly amusing the first several times. I liked it when she made the intern drink from a beaker during a physics question and the riding crop that came out for S&M. I figure they'll strap that damn BK chicken to an engine soon based on this, although I prefer attractive and exotic women answering my questions.

Planet Dan takes on some Minnesotan's feelings about the election of Michele Bachmann. Sure, the big picture is brighter and rosier, but we still have to face the fact that we have a lunatic speaking for us. While he's at it, he photoshops a very nice picture of her, questions the independent vote (if only all 42% of you had voted for this other candidate, Bachmann wouldn't have been elected!), and posts that wonderful picture of the Santorum family with the little girl dressed just like her doll. Pooteewheet once dressed up in her Mrs. Beasley's clothes, so she probably feels for her.

And Pharyngula links to a UTI mockumentary about prunes and fiber being the devil. Speaking of which, Eryn is not-so-firmly (punny) in the throes of getting rid of all that backed up evil that had me taking her to the doctor this week. She actually looks thinner she's gone so much, and her cheerfulness level is off the scale.

Chess

It's true, in some places they really do play chess in the park with giant pieces.

In this particular case, I was wandering around Sydney, Australia, minding my own business, when I came face to face with Bobby Fischer. You know, the American born, Icelandic chess grandmaster. Keep in mind, this was just before 9/11 and Bobby's subsequent banning by a 7-0 unanimous decision from the USCF (later vacated...you might assume at my request and I won't deny that, though I didn't have a vote) for going ballistic over U.S. policies.

But that would all come later. What he had on his mind that day wasn't politics, but the belief that he had just found the world's next grandmaster, a chess champion so cunning, so far seeing, that an ordinary game of chess would belittle his talents. Yes, he had found that champion in me and we would play no ordinary game of chess that day.

In a game inspired by Gilligan's Island and Rory Calhoun's search for the ultimate game, we played not just for our honor, but for the lives of the Aussies nearby. If you look carefully, you can see Boris Spassky in the audience, preparing to eliminate a few helpless pawns. Ah, it was a game bush poet Banjo Paterson, had he still been alive, might have captured in a ballad, comparing the wild moves of our pieces to those of the brumbies and my eventual sweep of Fischer's pawns to that "terrible descent" of The Man, all set to the rushing melody of Murray Head whose double-entendres underscored the spiritual purity of our game set against the moral corruption of the stakes.

The woman in the blue windbreaker in the front? Beheaded by Spassky when my queen took Fischer's queen. The man in the foreground, brutally hamstringed when Fischer's knight pounced upon my rook. Oh the queen was red that day, red with blood, and red like the evolutionary stalemate she signifies, though this was a stalemate of the ends of mental evolution pitted mano-a-mano, Fischer-a-Scooter, black-a-white. To see it would have made you humble, no matter how hard your mettle.

Oh, we played to the endgame, our pawns and kings becoming ever more powerful, and my superior knowledge of tablebases came to the fore. My studies of endgame theory under Mark Dvoretsky were obvious, and Fischer was sweating. In retrospect his Réti Opening was misplayed and his Alekhine's Defence feeble. Hypermodernism might have defeated orthodoxy in the 1890's, but the Scooter-orthodoxy of the 1990's was another beast entirely, and the attempt to capture the center with distant pieces, foolish and misguided. When Fischer's last bishop sliced toward d4, it was as if I could feel an angel sliding up to me.

No one in this picture is left alive to tell the tale. They all payed the price, most of them willingly, for the privilege of viewing the greatest game of chess ever played. And Fischer? His mental instability after his loss was evident in the coming months. Me...I went back to my life as a humble computer programmer aware that with no other grandmaster capable of challenging me, no ultramaster to speak of, I would belittle the game by ever picking up a piece again.

Things Grandpa John Can't Eat...

We have a lot of discussions like this around our house...

Eryn: "I like macaroni and cheese."

Me: "Do you want ketchup on it?"

Eryn: "No. Ick. That's gross."

Me: "Grandpa John eats ketchup on his macaroni and cheese."

Eryn: "Why does he?"

Me: "Well, I guess he doesn't anymore. He can't eat macaroni and cheese. He can't eat ketchup either. Nevermind."

Pooteewheet: "Poor John."

Big Rat

Hey...I have over 1000 posts. Wonder when that happened? I'd consider it a lot, but I think She Says did six in one day not so long ago.

I saw a big rat in the company parking lot today when I was leaving to take Eryn to the doctor. I mean the thing looked almost like a bloated football and it was just wandering toward the back door through the parking lot, teetering along until it could get under a car. I pointed it out to another guy, and my uncle-in-law (who was strangely leaving the building at the same time I was), and the other guy questioned whether it was a rat or some other beastie, like a muskrat, and eventually decided I was right.

After reading that book on parasites, I can't help but think maybe it wasn't fat from digging in the company dumpster, but rathre because it was full of parasites that were bloating it up and affecting its brain, tricking it into walking very slowly and erratically across a dangerous parking lot on the off chance that if said, bloated, juicy rat were squished into lot kill, many other animals would eat the remains and carry the parasite on to its next host and stage of development. That thought kept me very far away from it. I don't want to be the vector for what basically looks like the beginning of some undead zombie disease movie (undead zombie parasite in this case).

Eryn's Doctor Visit

So I had to bail on work at 9:00 this morning to head home and get Eryn ready to go to the clinic on a sudden visit. She went to see Erin the doctor...I think that's a good role model. Anyway, there was no emergency, unless you consider several days of not pooping a serious issue. I would, but then I'd consider it a prelude to some sort of serious age-related breakdown. In a little kid it's a bit less worrisome as it happens sometimes when their diet is just off (and it changes quickly when they're growing up or out) or if there's potty training involved. Eryn's case is a little more long term as we've been in for the issue before and tried a bunch of different remedies with no success. They seem to work initially and then just sort of quit working.

This time they took an x-ray to check out just how full of crap she is (that'd be a funnier joke if it were Pooteewheet with the problem) so they have a base to compare against next time (her colon is more than full), and gave me advice on how to increase her glycolax intake and start her on clear benefiber so that she moves up to three bowel movements a day (four is bad...stick to three) instead of one every other day, which seemed to be the norm, or one every 3-4 days as seems to be the current case.

After that, we headed over to Target for the Benefiber and a copy of Cars, because if you're sitting at home sucking down Benefiber and your butt and stomach hurt until you cry, you should have something to take your mind off the discomfort. Cars doesn't quite fix it, but it is distracting.

I can't help thinking that if it had been Eryn that came down with Norwalk on Saturday instead of my niece and sister, maybe the squirts coupled with the constipation would have just evened Eryn out. But there's that whole puking thing too, and the chance I'd catch it...so no thanks.

Stay Off the Wall

Addendum: The picture is from New Orleans several years ago. There was a lot of crime then (presumably still a lot of crime) and houses in some areas had walls around them where they'd poured some cement along the top and embedded the bottoms of glass bottles. Not exactly razor wire, but I can't imagine it's not effective unless you're willing to slowly sand them off over several weeks before you make your move.

I think I made myself abundantly clear...the wall is not for climbing. Particularly not the wall with hair plugs, it just got done with an operation and it's scalp is very sore.

Blue Fairy Book

I forgot to mention when I was blogging about my niece's new book that I also bought Eryn a new book the other day, The Blue Fairy Book, edited by Andrew Lang. It's part of a series of more than a dozen books of fairy tales all with a different color. I never owned one of them, although I did own the Arabian Nights Entertainments in the same series (also by Lang), a book my parents let me pick out back in the glory days of Riverplace (seriously - back when they had retail stores like a gaming store, candy shop, book store and native american artifact sort of shop). I should probably note that I had my first ever cherry Coke at Riverplace as well, when I was about 16. Not the fake kind, but the real kind that is so infinitely better. Most of those places were dead by the time I turned 18.

The great thing about the Dover fairy books is that the fairy tales, originally pulled together in 1896, have undergone no politically correct editing, which makes them fresh in their honesty about the horrible bits of life they were originally meant to embrace. For example, at the end of Little Red Riding-Hood, the story finishes, "And saying these words, this wicked wolf fell upon Little Red Riding-Hood, and ate her all up." (51). No heroic hunter. No cutting herself out of his stomach. No getting sort of "urpy", as my mother says, on sugar and spice and everything nice and puking her back up. Just chomp, slurp and gone. This seems to me to be the real outcome if a little girl in a red hood were ever to go up against an extremely hungry, anthropomorphic, wolf in pre-concealed weapon Minnesota. The whole tone of the story obviously changes when Red doesn't escape, as does what you focus on. Is the story actually just a toned down werewolf tale? Is there some significance to the fact that she crawls into bed with the wolf (no clothes) before he eats her? Is it a warning about being a lusty and wanton young wench in red?

Apparently...because when I hopped to the Little Red Riding Hood page on Wikipedia, I noticed that all those questions were actually being addressed as well as some intepretations I hadn't considered (I hadn't given any thought to equating her red hood with menstruation). Not that I need Eryn to have stories where I have to explain the possible interpretation as a commentary on child prostitution, but it's fun to have a few tales around that have layers of meaning and go beyond a sunshiney view of the world.

IE7

Update: oh my...I found the problem. Conflict of programs. I probably can't blog about it - not because it's illegal software, far from it. If you know me, you can ask offline and I'll explain why it's extremely funny. - Scooter

I have to say that my IE7 install at home didn't go as planned. You see, it won't let me move off the home page...I type in www.yahoo.com, and it goes nowhere. I type in nodtonothing.blogspot.com...nada. I tried preprending http:// I tried my ftp://. Nope. Unless I actually set up the site in the tabs using the tools, home page section, I can't browse to any site other than the defaults, and that's not browsing, that's just staring at the defaults. I guess I could set up a page with all my favorites, or just use the favorites, but that seems pretty damn lame. Maybe this is the new "anti-phishing" technology. I can't be lured into wrong decisions if I can't actually use the web.

Fortunately, I'm not a one browser household. We run Firefox and Opera 9 as well. Both work almost equally as well except when it comes to ftp-ing files to my ftp site and I set that up as a default tab in IE until I can figure out how to repair the install.

Wombat Alert

Today I paint, paint, painted (so did Pooteewheet). But someone did come to see the house and left money (refundable with their first month's rent) for a tenant check. Sweet. I have to admit the place looks pretty nice at the moment: garage actually pine sol-ed...new paint in the upstairs...welcome mats inside and outside the front door...area rug near the back door by the porch...cinnamon roll smell wafting through the air...cigarette butts almost all gone (third pass - they keep turning up like rocks in an Irish field). And I appreciate the fact that I'm not there on a 24 hour stint this time.

I even got in some fun today, hitting breakfast at The Longfellow Grill with my brother-in-law and niece. I bought her a book off the discount kids shelf a few weeks ago and I've been excited to give it to her. She won't get to read it, or have it read to her, for several more years, because it's the most disgusting thing I've ever seen, but I think my sister will appreciate and understand why I thought of her when I saw it on the shelf. It's called "Bloody Moments" and details a history of surgery and disease, right down to showing a cartoon guy covered with leeches and another one with an arrow pointing to where he has his probable STD.

I just got off the phone with her, and I guess the book is entirely appropriate as my niece is currently vomiting up everything she ate today. I guess those blueberries this morning didn't agree with her. I'd blame Pooteewheet, who's been sick, but her recent illness had no nausea whatsoever. There may just be a picture of someone being violently ill and/or suffering food poisoning in "Bloody Moments".

Speaking of my sister, here are a few historical pictures from her wedding. She got married just before 9/11 in Australia. Jenolan Caves to be exact, although we also spent some time in Bathurst hanging out with my brother-in-law's dad. Pooteewheet didn't get to go with me because she was in school. I wasn't so excited about going to Australia, as it seemed pretty much like Seattle, but with a much longer (and more expensive) plane ride, but I have nothing but good memories of the place, so it really made an impression. I guess anyplace where the currency rate is $1=$2 so I can buy a 24 oz. steak, two beers and assorted other food all for under $20 is bound to leave a favorable taste.

Here's a wombat crossing. I didn't see a wombat. The whole time I was there, the only animal I saw outside a zoo that wasn't a bird was a wallaby on the hill near my hotel room. Otherwise the place seemed completely void of critters. There were certainly no cuddly wombats wandering across the highway (fortunately for them...my dad seemed a little nervous about the whole driving on the other side of the road thing).


There were signs of animals. I'm pretty sure this is a pile of wallaby scat. You can be assured I didn't leave it myself, although I do have a picture of my brother taking a leak nearby.


Here's a picture from the wedding. LissyJo and my brother-in-law walking along a path to get their pre-wedding pictures. It was suprisingly cold...I say suprisingly because there were tropical birds not so far from here just hanging out and eating bread crumbs. You don't expect to need a coat to cover yourself up if there are tropical birds nearby.


Nice picture of LissyJo and husband to be on the shore of the little stream that runs past Jenolan Caves. I don't remember if this is before or after LissyJo freaked out and got claustrophobia in the caves (there are caves, it's not just some sort of name indicating there are caves somewhere within a 500 mile radius).

The Daily Nut

Lately I've been watching The Daily Nut podcast (video cast) via iTunes. I'm not sure why they list it as explicit. Sure, if you watch Attack of the Show on G4TV, Olivia Munn wears some racy clothes and Kevin Pereira makes a few raunchy comments on her behalf, but it would be difficult to call it "explicit", at least any more explicit than the worst of Friends or the best of Coupling. Although "explicit" might be applicable to the cast's participation in the 10 Scariest Games of all time where they reenacted the movie Saw using, among other things, Dance Dance Revolution and a bear trap.

In catching up on about a month's worth of backlogged podcasts, I had a few favorite videos that I thought might be worth sharing with friends (invariably from collegehumor.com)...

Mufasta - for Mean Mr. Mustard who, for a while, seemed to have an obsession with the Nigerian scam.

Also for Mean Mr. Mustard. He was only now getting around to sending me the video with the treadmills, so maybe this will help him catch up culture wise. And I think he's a Lakers fan...although maybe this rap will help him change his mind.

For Scott (Ox) and probably for Kyle. Based on Kyle's love of MST3K, he'll probably enjoy this. Based on Scott's tendency to do things clown-related, maybe this will serve as a warning.

For my brother in law and niece. She's lucky her daddy escaped Australia alive with kangaroos like this. I wonder if this is what Dan Savage was talking about when he was going over the details of getting a donkey punch. If a kangaroo punches you and your sphincter contracts, is that still bestiality?

Vicksburg Flashback

I'm feeling non-bloggish today. So here's a picture of me at Vicksburg (Mississippi) in 2000 hanging out at the Minnesota monument. Pooteewheet and I were on our way, by car, to New Orleans and made a side trip just to see what was there for their Civil War memorial. Darn impressive - I doubt most people have seen that much marble and granite memorial work all in one place unless they spend considerable time in D.C. It didn't hurt that it was absolutely beautiful out that day and it was our first real vacation together since our honeymoon that didn't involve other family. Certainly is strange to see myself in glasses.