Friday, March 28, 2008
Another Video
I think this is such a neat program, so I quickly grabbed some old pictures and created another video.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Easter Egg Hunt Insanity
Photo by: RichardbhWe took the kids easter egg hunting today. We started out at the community egg hunt, which went pretty well. The dog extraordinaire got to go out and sniff some butts, and the kids were able to get a lot of eggs.
Heather's friend invited her to go to another egg hunt in a neighboring town, so we all packed into the minivan and went. There were a lot of kids there. The kids were broken down into age groups, so I went with Jenna while Heather went with Ainsley. When they called the 7 and older group over, there was almost a stampede to get to the starting line. This stampede was encouraged by the parents. "Hurry up, Hanna!! You don't want to miss out." "Run, Jordan. Run!"
Oh brother.
As the kids lined up, some of the parents were whipping themselves into a frenzy. One mom even went out into the "egg area", for lack of a better term, and instructed her daughter to run to her and to grab "these" eggs. She would stand there with the basket. It wasn't the last time I had to bite my tongue that day.
There was a guy out there keeping the kids at bay at the starting line, and you could almost feel the frustration in the air from some of the parents. "Just let them go, already." As the guy was talking, some of the kids started to go, and then a parent yelled, "Go, Billy!!" and a massive wave of children moved forward. So much for ready, set, go.
It took less than a minute for all the eggs to be scooped up. Some kids did not get any. As I was walking towards Jenna, one parent was berating her child because she did not get any eggs. She wasn't aggressive enough, according to the mother. The child was near tears, being yelled at in front of all these strangers. If I would have had an egg, I would have walked up to her and given her one. It would have provided me the opportunity to tell the mother to go fuck herself. Real mature, I know. Sometimes you have to tell people like that their behaviour is not acceptable, and telling somebody to go fuck themselves is about as pithy as you can get.
I regret not saying something now.
This was only an Easter egg hunt. I can't imagine what these parents are like at sporting events. Reminds me of playing little league, and having to listen to, "Go, Larrrrrrrrrrrryyyyyyy" from some mother who's only positive in life was watching her pathetic boy play baseball. Man, I felt sorry for that kid. I'm glad my parents sat in the bleachers and conducted themselves appropriately.
Parents these days. I tell ya.
Friday, March 21, 2008
Kindle
I've been enjoying my Kindle since it arrived way back when. I had to wait a little over a month for mine to arrive. There's been many a blog set up to write exclusively about the Kindle, and many groups have been formed for users to love on their Kindle or rant and rave about the long wait time. Amazon has refused to reveal how many they've sold, and they won't say what has caused the delay other than unexpected demand.
Jeff Bezos, after months of silence, has posted a letter on the homepage of Amazon re: the Kindle.
I still love mine.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
I find it easier to be pissed and miserable sometimes than it is to be happy. Being cheerful is hard.
I certainly hope you have all felt the same, or I shall truly feel....miserable.
Like when you get a big ass bonus, only to have big ass bills to pay. Only to have dreamed of the things you could do or buy with what was left, only to have your car need repair 3 days before the deposit hit the bank... and be left with nothing.
Like moving your family to another state for fame and fortune, only to find the fame and fortune wasn't worth dealing with the union loving, lazy ass, back-stabbing, pieces of shit you get to work with.
Like deciding to move home, with or without BP, instead of moving to wherever the next job takes you, only to have that information leaked to family members. Then the reality of the housing market crashes that illusion you hung on the wall right over your big, fat noggin.
Then you see your miserable looking ass in the hallway mirror, and you realize you've been acting like a chump. And you are no chump.
You realize you are debt free (ok...except the mortgage), and you should be thankful you got the bonus. Besides, your wife didn't mean it when she said you could go to London without her. And hey, those repairs were cheaper than a new car, and she's running like a hot rod now.
You realize the move has made you stronger, professionally and personally. You figure out those lazy bastards at work are really leadership challenges in disguise, and you have the skill set to turn them into performers because that is why you were chosen to come to this miserable place in the first place.
You realize you still have things you want to do while you are away from your family. Gettysburg still awaits, as does another trip to DC. You are on the downward slope, and it is only a matter of time now before your children will see your parents on a regular basis.
And you learn to stop your bitching and crying.
And you learn to wash the negativity from your mind, because that is not who you are.
I certainly hope you have all felt the same, or I shall truly feel....miserable.
Like when you get a big ass bonus, only to have big ass bills to pay. Only to have dreamed of the things you could do or buy with what was left, only to have your car need repair 3 days before the deposit hit the bank... and be left with nothing.
Like moving your family to another state for fame and fortune, only to find the fame and fortune wasn't worth dealing with the union loving, lazy ass, back-stabbing, pieces of shit you get to work with.
Like deciding to move home, with or without BP, instead of moving to wherever the next job takes you, only to have that information leaked to family members. Then the reality of the housing market crashes that illusion you hung on the wall right over your big, fat noggin.
Then you see your miserable looking ass in the hallway mirror, and you realize you've been acting like a chump. And you are no chump.
You realize you are debt free (ok...except the mortgage), and you should be thankful you got the bonus. Besides, your wife didn't mean it when she said you could go to London without her. And hey, those repairs were cheaper than a new car, and she's running like a hot rod now.
You realize the move has made you stronger, professionally and personally. You figure out those lazy bastards at work are really leadership challenges in disguise, and you have the skill set to turn them into performers because that is why you were chosen to come to this miserable place in the first place.
You realize you still have things you want to do while you are away from your family. Gettysburg still awaits, as does another trip to DC. You are on the downward slope, and it is only a matter of time now before your children will see your parents on a regular basis.
And you learn to stop your bitching and crying.
And you learn to wash the negativity from your mind, because that is not who you are.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Life. It's Not All About You.
It's been a crazy week. I've been putting in 12-14 hour days making sure the inventory that was scheduled on Friday and Saturday went without a hitch. This was another opportunity for me to put another tick in a box for yet another process I have improved since coming to Warminster 15 months ago. That's why they asked me to come here, and that's why I came. I'm chasing those bigger jobs with bigger pay so I can have bigger toys and the bigger influence and responsibility.
Heather was sick all week. She was sick enough to go to the doctor on Friday and get 3 different meds. Sorry, Heather. I know you're sick, I told her. But they put me in charge of this inventory so I have to see it through. I'll be home as soon as I can. As soon as I can always meant when the kids were already sleeping. Even though she was sick, she took care of the kids while I put in the long hours.
On Thursday, the day before inventory, Jenna had an assembly at school. Part of the assembly was to recognize the student of the quarters. Jenna was one of them. I didn't go. There were too many batch cards to be closed, scales set up and other important things that needed to get done before freezing the books of all transactions. Somebody needed to be there to make sure it all happened, and that somebody was me.
Life. It's not all about you. The person who has been trying to teach me that is my old man. He never got wrapped up in himself. He worked, and he worked hard. He never complained. It was what it was. He still found time to go to all my baseball games, and helped coach a few years. He even spent some time on the baseball board. He went to college at night, and taught Fire Science courses for a community college. And he still made my games.
He's been a volunteer firefighter since....forever. He's given thousands of hours of his personal time helping others and the community. It doesn't matter if it's 1 am or 1 in the afternoon, he goes to all of the calls. It's not about him. It's not about having a flashing blue light in his car. It's not about firefighter decals plastered everywhere. It's about helping others. He identified a serious gap in training way back when, and he went above and beyond to fill that gap. As one chief in a neighboring community told me a few years ago, Mike Pruski has done more than any other person regarding the professional development of all the surrounding community fire departments. This chief serves 30 minutes away and 3 towns over from where my old man does. The sphere of influence is larger than that, and he did it all while thinking of others, not himself. He was trying to teach me a lesson.
My old man turned 60 today.
I forgot.
No present. Not even a card.
I was too wrapped up in my own little world worrying about an inventory that in the grand scheme of things was insignificant.
I remember looking at a black and white picture of my old man in the Air Force in Thailand. For a few moments, my brain was trying to register how I was in a picture taken during Vietnam while in Thailand. I looked just like him then. Heather and even my mom like to tell me how much I'm like my dad. My mannerisms, the way I smile, the way I act and even the way I look.
Nothing could be father from the truth.
The inventory went without a hitch. What used to take 1.5 to 2 days was completed in under 1. Instead of feeling good about my accomplishment, I sit here ashamed. I should have gone to Jenna's assembly to show my support for my daughter who was student of the quarter. I should have gone home and taken care of my sick wife.
I should have gone home to be with my dad on his 60th birthday.
Heather was sick all week. She was sick enough to go to the doctor on Friday and get 3 different meds. Sorry, Heather. I know you're sick, I told her. But they put me in charge of this inventory so I have to see it through. I'll be home as soon as I can. As soon as I can always meant when the kids were already sleeping. Even though she was sick, she took care of the kids while I put in the long hours.
On Thursday, the day before inventory, Jenna had an assembly at school. Part of the assembly was to recognize the student of the quarters. Jenna was one of them. I didn't go. There were too many batch cards to be closed, scales set up and other important things that needed to get done before freezing the books of all transactions. Somebody needed to be there to make sure it all happened, and that somebody was me.
Life. It's not all about you. The person who has been trying to teach me that is my old man. He never got wrapped up in himself. He worked, and he worked hard. He never complained. It was what it was. He still found time to go to all my baseball games, and helped coach a few years. He even spent some time on the baseball board. He went to college at night, and taught Fire Science courses for a community college. And he still made my games.
He's been a volunteer firefighter since....forever. He's given thousands of hours of his personal time helping others and the community. It doesn't matter if it's 1 am or 1 in the afternoon, he goes to all of the calls. It's not about him. It's not about having a flashing blue light in his car. It's not about firefighter decals plastered everywhere. It's about helping others. He identified a serious gap in training way back when, and he went above and beyond to fill that gap. As one chief in a neighboring community told me a few years ago, Mike Pruski has done more than any other person regarding the professional development of all the surrounding community fire departments. This chief serves 30 minutes away and 3 towns over from where my old man does. The sphere of influence is larger than that, and he did it all while thinking of others, not himself. He was trying to teach me a lesson.
My old man turned 60 today.
I forgot.
No present. Not even a card.
I was too wrapped up in my own little world worrying about an inventory that in the grand scheme of things was insignificant.
I remember looking at a black and white picture of my old man in the Air Force in Thailand. For a few moments, my brain was trying to register how I was in a picture taken during Vietnam while in Thailand. I looked just like him then. Heather and even my mom like to tell me how much I'm like my dad. My mannerisms, the way I smile, the way I act and even the way I look.
Nothing could be father from the truth.
The inventory went without a hitch. What used to take 1.5 to 2 days was completed in under 1. Instead of feeling good about my accomplishment, I sit here ashamed. I should have gone to Jenna's assembly to show my support for my daughter who was student of the quarter. I should have gone home and taken care of my sick wife.
I should have gone home to be with my dad on his 60th birthday.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Conversations with Ainsley
It's been just Ainsley and I for the most part this weekend. She's been a ton of fun. Here's just a snippet of some of our conversations.
While in my car heading to the grocery store:
A: It smells. It smells like Zippy's poop.
J: Did you step in some of it?
A: No. It's you car.
J: My car? What do you mean?
A: Your car smells. Really bad. Very badly.
J: It does?
A: You need to clean it.
J: *sniff* *sniff*
She later picked me out a strawberry air freshener for my car.
While getting her out of the car after returning from the grocery store:
A: (with the utmost sincerity) Dad. Will you call me your highness?
J: Yes, dear.
A: No! Your highness.
J: Yes, your highness.
While watching Orangutan Island on Animal Planet:
A: I see his butt. Dad. Look at his butt.
J: *snicker*
At Blockbuster picking out a movie:
J: How about this one?
A: Seen it.
J: This one?
A: We have that one, you silly goose.
J: We don't have this one? Want to get it?
A: I've seen it, you knuckle head.
Early this morning as were we sleeping:
Weazel: Meow. Meow.
A: Shhhhhhhhhh!!!!
Weazel: Meow. Meow.
A: Weazel!! Go to sleep!! It's not time to get up yet!
Weazel: Meow. Meow.
J: *throws pillow at Weazel*
A: I told you to go to sleep, Weazel.
While in my car heading to the grocery store:
A: It smells. It smells like Zippy's poop.
J: Did you step in some of it?
A: No. It's you car.
J: My car? What do you mean?
A: Your car smells. Really bad. Very badly.
J: It does?
A: You need to clean it.
J: *sniff* *sniff*
She later picked me out a strawberry air freshener for my car.
While getting her out of the car after returning from the grocery store:
A: (with the utmost sincerity) Dad. Will you call me your highness?
J: Yes, dear.
A: No! Your highness.
J: Yes, your highness.
While watching Orangutan Island on Animal Planet:
A: I see his butt. Dad. Look at his butt.
J: *snicker*
At Blockbuster picking out a movie:
J: How about this one?
A: Seen it.
J: This one?
A: We have that one, you silly goose.
J: We don't have this one? Want to get it?
A: I've seen it, you knuckle head.
Early this morning as were we sleeping:
Weazel: Meow. Meow.
A: Shhhhhhhhhh!!!!
Weazel: Meow. Meow.
A: Weazel!! Go to sleep!! It's not time to get up yet!
Weazel: Meow. Meow.
J: *throws pillow at Weazel*
A: I told you to go to sleep, Weazel.
Saturday, February 09, 2008
Friday Night Fun
It was another rough week at work, so what better way to unwind than cooking a good meal while partaking in good drinks.
Won't my mom be proud of this one.
Won't my mom be proud of this one.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Will it be worth it?
Here's an article from the NY Times about the Amazon Kindle.
Mine arrives on Tuesday. I ordered it on 27 December.
Mine arrives on Tuesday. I ordered it on 27 December.
Friday, January 25, 2008
You're on Candid Camera
While on this trip to LA, I was surprised at how many times I was on camera.
On the turnpike heading to the airport.
In the parking garage.
In the airport.
At LAX.
On the Hertz bus.
At Hertz.
Leaving Hertz.
At the parking garage for the hotel.
In the hotel.
At certain intersections.
At the donut shop.
At Castrol.
At McDonalds.
At the italian place we stopped to eat at.
And back again.
We are quickly becoming similar to the UK as far as surveillance. Ok. Not that far.
Sitting at LAX waiting on the red eye back home, one has time to think of such things. I hope I can sleep on the plane, because I leave at 10:15 Pacific time and get back at 6:12 am on Friday morning. Straight to work I go.
Such is life. It should only hurt for a little while.
On the turnpike heading to the airport.
In the parking garage.
In the airport.
At LAX.
On the Hertz bus.
At Hertz.
Leaving Hertz.
At the parking garage for the hotel.
In the hotel.
At certain intersections.
At the donut shop.
At Castrol.
At McDonalds.
At the italian place we stopped to eat at.
And back again.
We are quickly becoming similar to the UK as far as surveillance. Ok. Not that far.
Sitting at LAX waiting on the red eye back home, one has time to think of such things. I hope I can sleep on the plane, because I leave at 10:15 Pacific time and get back at 6:12 am on Friday morning. Straight to work I go.
Such is life. It should only hurt for a little while.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
College Grad
I'm in Los Angeles now, but more about that later.
I received confirmation today that I am now a college graduate with a Bachelors of Science.
Yipee.
Now it's time to start on the Masters.
I received confirmation today that I am now a college graduate with a Bachelors of Science.
Yipee.
Now it's time to start on the Masters.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Catch Me if You Can.
A guest post from Sir Zipadelli.
What's happening, my peeps?
Lots of sleeping and licking me balls for me. OK. I lick where I think my balls should be, but they haven't been there in some time.
Anyways, I have a story for you from this weekend. I'm going to use Brad Paisley's song, "Mr. Policeman" to help me tell the story because I was thinking of it the entire time this was happening. The song is about him taunting a policeman to catch him in his 75 Firebird Trans Am. Let me set the stage.
The oldest of the little monsters had just got done taking me for a walk. I had been a good boy on the walk, but it was all part of my master plan. I knew I had her trust, so she dropped the leash when she opened up the door. And we're off!!
In case you can't figure it out, the words in italics are from the song.
Hey! Hey! Mr. Policeman. I bet I can drive faster than you can. Come on hoss let's have some fun, go ahead and shoot me with your radar gun, you look bored and I sure am so catch me if you can. Go on, turn on your bluelights (so pretty). you know you want to, I just flew by. I can see you peeling out, how my dust taste in your mouth, come on Smokey it's time to race. Let's have us a high speed chase.
Now I'm out of the yard and across the street. The daddy monster is out of the house and walking my way. I look at him, more like stare at him,...wait for it....I'm off!! Just like the song says, catch me if you can!! I race to the next street with the fat bastard in hot pursuit. Boy does he look pissed!! By now we're about a block away from the house.
Hey! Hey! Mr. Policeman. A chopper in the air and a couple of swat vans. That's no fair blocking the road, where am I supposed to go, time to use my back-up plan, catch me if you can.
There wasn't a chopper in the air, but now the mama monster is in the van with the smallest monster. They tried blocking me from crossing the street, but I was much too quick.
Hey! Hey! Mr. Policeman. I bet I can run faster than you can. With your big pot belly and your cowboy boots, a hundred bucks says you won't shoot. I know these woods like the back of my hand, catch me if you can!!
I stopped to take a leak and I let the daddy monster get close to me. I sniffed around so he would think I was occupied and not paying attention. I let him get close and then I was off!!
Go on, turn on your spotlight (so shiny). I've got running shoes and I'm younger than you and I've got all night. There's no way your keeping up with me, go on back to Krispy Kreme, If you want to quit I understand. Catch me if you can.
To my immense enjoyment, he ran after me. He chased me for 3 houses and then started to walk. I stopped and turned to look at him thinking, "There's no way you're keeping up with me. If you want to quit, I understand." The dude looked pitiful!!
It was right about now that I saw another dog at the back door of the house I was at. I figured I had some time, so I went up to the door to take a look. You never know, I might just get lucky with a hot dame. Funny enough, this is the part of the song where they just pick for awhile. And then, they pause for a second before they sing...
I'm in the jail house now. I'm in the jail house now. He told me once or twice, son respect my author-a-tie, I'm in the jail house now.
While I was screwing around with the other dog, the daddy monster was able to sneak up on me and grab my leash. I immediately knew I had been beat. He walked me home with my head hung low in shame. I was so confident, and the defeat was crushing. After all the taunting, he had caught me. Even worse, he paraded me through the neighborhood in my defeat.
Later, bitches. I have to go fart on his pillow to get back at him.
If you haven't heard the song, go here and click scroll down to Mr. Policeman. Click on it for a free sample.
What's happening, my peeps?
Lots of sleeping and licking me balls for me. OK. I lick where I think my balls should be, but they haven't been there in some time.
Anyways, I have a story for you from this weekend. I'm going to use Brad Paisley's song, "Mr. Policeman" to help me tell the story because I was thinking of it the entire time this was happening. The song is about him taunting a policeman to catch him in his 75 Firebird Trans Am. Let me set the stage.
The oldest of the little monsters had just got done taking me for a walk. I had been a good boy on the walk, but it was all part of my master plan. I knew I had her trust, so she dropped the leash when she opened up the door. And we're off!!
In case you can't figure it out, the words in italics are from the song.
Hey! Hey! Mr. Policeman. I bet I can drive faster than you can. Come on hoss let's have some fun, go ahead and shoot me with your radar gun, you look bored and I sure am so catch me if you can. Go on, turn on your bluelights (so pretty). you know you want to, I just flew by. I can see you peeling out, how my dust taste in your mouth, come on Smokey it's time to race. Let's have us a high speed chase.
Now I'm out of the yard and across the street. The daddy monster is out of the house and walking my way. I look at him, more like stare at him,...wait for it....I'm off!! Just like the song says, catch me if you can!! I race to the next street with the fat bastard in hot pursuit. Boy does he look pissed!! By now we're about a block away from the house.
Hey! Hey! Mr. Policeman. A chopper in the air and a couple of swat vans. That's no fair blocking the road, where am I supposed to go, time to use my back-up plan, catch me if you can.
There wasn't a chopper in the air, but now the mama monster is in the van with the smallest monster. They tried blocking me from crossing the street, but I was much too quick.
Hey! Hey! Mr. Policeman. I bet I can run faster than you can. With your big pot belly and your cowboy boots, a hundred bucks says you won't shoot. I know these woods like the back of my hand, catch me if you can!!
I stopped to take a leak and I let the daddy monster get close to me. I sniffed around so he would think I was occupied and not paying attention. I let him get close and then I was off!!
Go on, turn on your spotlight (so shiny). I've got running shoes and I'm younger than you and I've got all night. There's no way your keeping up with me, go on back to Krispy Kreme, If you want to quit I understand. Catch me if you can.
To my immense enjoyment, he ran after me. He chased me for 3 houses and then started to walk. I stopped and turned to look at him thinking, "There's no way you're keeping up with me. If you want to quit, I understand." The dude looked pitiful!!
It was right about now that I saw another dog at the back door of the house I was at. I figured I had some time, so I went up to the door to take a look. You never know, I might just get lucky with a hot dame. Funny enough, this is the part of the song where they just pick for awhile. And then, they pause for a second before they sing...
I'm in the jail house now. I'm in the jail house now. He told me once or twice, son respect my author-a-tie, I'm in the jail house now.
While I was screwing around with the other dog, the daddy monster was able to sneak up on me and grab my leash. I immediately knew I had been beat. He walked me home with my head hung low in shame. I was so confident, and the defeat was crushing. After all the taunting, he had caught me. Even worse, he paraded me through the neighborhood in my defeat.
Later, bitches. I have to go fart on his pillow to get back at him.
If you haven't heard the song, go here and click scroll down to Mr. Policeman. Click on it for a free sample.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Greenville, South Carolina
I haven't been much of a blogger lately. I have to admit that I find Zippy's letter to Santa hilarious. I probably find it a little too funny.
I spent some time at the GE facility in Greenville, SC this week. They make the wind turbines there. They are massive!! I was asked to go there to share best practices with the Castrol people there at their site. I walked away glad that I did not work there.
The most important revelation I walked away with was this:
I need a camera phone.
I love my crack-berry, but why I didn't get one with a camera escapes me. As I waited patiently for my delayed flight back to Philly, there was ample material to post about. Pictures would have definitely brought this post to life.
There were the low-techies. This group of 6 were doing the unthinkable. They didn't have out their laptops or their ipods. No Blackberrys. They were actually talking, and having a good time of it. They were looked at as oddities.
Diabetes boy sat across from me. He had his laptop and ipod going, but he also had one of those pager looking insulin machines hooked up to him.
Crazy tye dye guy was...crazy looking. He looked like Gene Simmons, long hair and all. There were a few times I thought a confrontation was inevitable as he meandered around the terminal mumbling to himself.
Business man was a fit 60ish dude with a tailored suit. Very spiffy.
Knowledge man spoke of his poweress on his phone, while know-it-all Sal told anybody who would listen how great he was at....well, at everything.
Then there was *whistle*. Good lord.
The prep troop, who dropped their bags because they were done lugging them around, sat next to pearly white grandma. Ivan the Russian was rushing to his flight, while what was she thinking gal got off her flight wearing clogs. Scared tennis girl looked like she wanted her mommy, while grunge wanna be had "I don't like your girlfriend" written all over her. Then there was trifecta boy. He had his phone, ipod and laptop burning. What a cliche he was.
Pictures would have added so much more to this dull post.
On a side note, the number of Amazon Kindle sightings: 0
I will say one thing about my trip. All of the people were nice. Genuinely nice. Good southern hospitality.
Me, on the other hand...
I spent some time at the GE facility in Greenville, SC this week. They make the wind turbines there. They are massive!! I was asked to go there to share best practices with the Castrol people there at their site. I walked away glad that I did not work there.
The most important revelation I walked away with was this:
I need a camera phone.
I love my crack-berry, but why I didn't get one with a camera escapes me. As I waited patiently for my delayed flight back to Philly, there was ample material to post about. Pictures would have definitely brought this post to life.
There were the low-techies. This group of 6 were doing the unthinkable. They didn't have out their laptops or their ipods. No Blackberrys. They were actually talking, and having a good time of it. They were looked at as oddities.
Diabetes boy sat across from me. He had his laptop and ipod going, but he also had one of those pager looking insulin machines hooked up to him.
Crazy tye dye guy was...crazy looking. He looked like Gene Simmons, long hair and all. There were a few times I thought a confrontation was inevitable as he meandered around the terminal mumbling to himself.
Business man was a fit 60ish dude with a tailored suit. Very spiffy.
Knowledge man spoke of his poweress on his phone, while know-it-all Sal told anybody who would listen how great he was at....well, at everything.
Then there was *whistle*. Good lord.
The prep troop, who dropped their bags because they were done lugging them around, sat next to pearly white grandma. Ivan the Russian was rushing to his flight, while what was she thinking gal got off her flight wearing clogs. Scared tennis girl looked like she wanted her mommy, while grunge wanna be had "I don't like your girlfriend" written all over her. Then there was trifecta boy. He had his phone, ipod and laptop burning. What a cliche he was.
Pictures would have added so much more to this dull post.
On a side note, the number of Amazon Kindle sightings: 0
I will say one thing about my trip. All of the people were nice. Genuinely nice. Good southern hospitality.
Me, on the other hand...
Monday, December 24, 2007
Sunday, December 23, 2007
What has habit been doing to you?
FATHER FORGETS
W. Livingston Larned
condensed as in "Readers Digest"
W. Livingston Larned
condensed as in "Readers Digest"
Listen, son: I am saying this as you lie asleep, one little
paw crumpled under your cheek and the blond curls stickily
wet on your damp forehead. I have stolen into your room alone.
Just a few minutes ago, as I sat reading my paper in the
library, a stifling wave of remorse swept over me. Guiltily
I came to your bedside.
There are the things I was thinking, son: I had been cross
to you. I scolded you as you were dressing for school because
you gave your face merely a dab with a towel. I took you to
task for not cleaning your shoes. I called out angrily when
you threw some of your things on the floor.
At breakfast I found fault, too. You spilled things. You
gulped down your food. You put your elbows on the table. You
spread butter too thick on your bread. And as you started off
to play and I made for my train, you turned and waved a hand
and called, "Goodbye, Daddy!" and I frowned, and said in
reply, "Hold your shoulders back!"
Then it began all over again in the late afternoon. As I came
up the road I spied you, down on your knees, playing marbles.
There were holes in your stockings. I humiliated you before
your boyfriends by marching you ahead of me to the house.
Stockings were expensive-and if you had to buy them you would
be more careful! Imagine that, son, from a father!
Do you remember, later, when I was reading in the library, how
you came in timidly, with a sort of hurt look in your eyes?
When I glanced up over my paper, impatient at the interruption,
you hesitated at the door. "What is it you want?" I snapped.
You said nothing, but ran across in one tempestuous plunge,
and threw your arms around my neck and kissed me, and your
small arms tightended with an affection that God had set
blooming in your heart and which even neglect could not wither.
And then you were gone, pattering up the stairs.
Well, son, it was shortly afterwards that my paper slipped
from my hands and a terrible sickening fear came over me. What
has habit been doing to me? The habit of finding fault, of
reprimanding-this was my reward to you for being a boy. It
was not that I did not love you; it was that I expected too
much of youth. I was measuring you by the yardstick of my own
years.
And there was so much that was good and fine and true in your
character. The little heart of you was as big as the dawn
itself over the wide hills. This was shown by your spontaneous
impulse to rush in and kiss me good night. Nothing else matters
tonight, son. I have come to your bedside in the darkness, and
I have knelt there, ashamed!
It is feeble atonement; I know you would not understand these
things if I told them to you during your waking hours. But
tomorrow I will be a real daddy! I will chum with you, and suffer
when you suffer, and laugh when you laugh. I will bite my
tongue when impatient words come. I will keep saying as if it
were a ritual: "He is nothing but a boy-a little boy!"
I am afraid I have visualized you as a man. Yet as I see you
now, son, crumpled and weary in your cot, I see that you are
still a baby. Yesterday you were in your mother's arms, your
head on her shoulder. I have asked too much, too much.
What has habit been doing to you?
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Poor Zippy
Poor Zippy had to go and meet Santa. They even put reindeer antlers on his noggin. He's in deep depression now. I hope he snaps out of it.
Go here to see the video. Warning. Pitiful images.
Go here to see the video. Warning. Pitiful images.
Motivated to do Nothing
Lots to do and I don't feel like doing any of it. Ever feel that way?
With Heather working a second job, I'm bringing a lot of work home. I have to complete a Department of Commerce survey, and I have to review the new warehouse standard, all 33 pages of it, and write a report on where we are currently compliant, and where we aren't. I also started a new team to do a deep dive on every late order we ship, which requires a weekly meeting that lasts about 2 hours. The meeting is for decision making only, so a lot of prep goes into it. We spent three hours working on a flow chart for ONE late order reason code. There are 15 codes. We did this so we have a systematic approach to doing a root cause investigation. Lots of pain in the ass work in the beginning, but I think we will end up with a document that we can share around the business when we are done. The plant manager is back from China, so he'll probably blow it to hell anyways. He goes back in January for 2 more months, so I just need to get him to give me some space to develop the team.
It just occurred to me that nobody cares about this...
I have to write a 2500 page paper due on Friday for Art. Ick. Haven't started that one yet. I need to find time to learn to play the new guitar I just purchased.
I had started running a few months ago, but had to stop after the cough became too much. Glad to say that after a little over three months that the cough is gone. I had been doing the cart instead of running, but I found I was still eating poorly after that. The cart is walking at a 10% incline while leaning into the handles...like pushing a cart uphill. Burns lots of calories, but after doing this for 30 mins, I feel fine after 1 minute off the treadmill. So I didn't feel like I had worked that hard, so it was easy to get back into the habit of heading for the fridge. No soreness or weak muscles to remind me how hard I had worked. Gonna have to start running again, which I hate. Hated it it in the Army and still hate it.
I think this qualifies as boring now.
I don't think we'll be heading to New York on Christmas eve like we did last year. That's kind of a bummer. We're going to have to figure something else out so we aren't sitting at home alone. Can't go home, so to the family reading this, don't expect a surprise visit.
I get to go to Los Angeles in January for work, and I may also get to go to GE in South Carolina to help with a root cause investigation. Time out and about on work is always good. Gotta get that name out there.
We're going to yet another Keith Urban concert on Valentine's day. This time he is with Carrie Underwood at Hershey, Pa.
Should I get this tattoo on my inner forearm? I'm thinking no. Like the style, but not sure I want to cover it up sometimes. As I try and climb the corporate ladder, I think people will judge me by having a tattoo on my arm. Decisions. Decisions.
With Heather working a second job, I'm bringing a lot of work home. I have to complete a Department of Commerce survey, and I have to review the new warehouse standard, all 33 pages of it, and write a report on where we are currently compliant, and where we aren't. I also started a new team to do a deep dive on every late order we ship, which requires a weekly meeting that lasts about 2 hours. The meeting is for decision making only, so a lot of prep goes into it. We spent three hours working on a flow chart for ONE late order reason code. There are 15 codes. We did this so we have a systematic approach to doing a root cause investigation. Lots of pain in the ass work in the beginning, but I think we will end up with a document that we can share around the business when we are done. The plant manager is back from China, so he'll probably blow it to hell anyways. He goes back in January for 2 more months, so I just need to get him to give me some space to develop the team.
It just occurred to me that nobody cares about this...
I have to write a 2500 page paper due on Friday for Art. Ick. Haven't started that one yet. I need to find time to learn to play the new guitar I just purchased.
I had started running a few months ago, but had to stop after the cough became too much. Glad to say that after a little over three months that the cough is gone. I had been doing the cart instead of running, but I found I was still eating poorly after that. The cart is walking at a 10% incline while leaning into the handles...like pushing a cart uphill. Burns lots of calories, but after doing this for 30 mins, I feel fine after 1 minute off the treadmill. So I didn't feel like I had worked that hard, so it was easy to get back into the habit of heading for the fridge. No soreness or weak muscles to remind me how hard I had worked. Gonna have to start running again, which I hate. Hated it it in the Army and still hate it.
I think this qualifies as boring now.
I don't think we'll be heading to New York on Christmas eve like we did last year. That's kind of a bummer. We're going to have to figure something else out so we aren't sitting at home alone. Can't go home, so to the family reading this, don't expect a surprise visit.
I get to go to Los Angeles in January for work, and I may also get to go to GE in South Carolina to help with a root cause investigation. Time out and about on work is always good. Gotta get that name out there.
We're going to yet another Keith Urban concert on Valentine's day. This time he is with Carrie Underwood at Hershey, Pa.
Should I get this tattoo on my inner forearm? I'm thinking no. Like the style, but not sure I want to cover it up sometimes. As I try and climb the corporate ladder, I think people will judge me by having a tattoo on my arm. Decisions. Decisions.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Thanksgiving 2007
Another Thanksgiving come and gone.
Since we're "alone", we tried to make the best of it. The temperature was around 65, so we went outside and played. We ended up playing baseball out in the street, which is one of the favorite things I used to do as a kid. Zippy was able to get into the fun by catching foul balls.
We had a quick video call with all the family back in Illinois. That was chaotic, but the girls enjoyed it. With all the noise and madness over at my brother's, I was almost thankful for our quiet time at home.
I was asked about 20 times by 20 different people if we were going home for Thanksgiving. Funny how people just assume you go home for every holiday. We may not have the rest of our family around, but what we have is enough. We were thankful to spend Thanksgiving together as a family, even if it was just the 4 of us.
Since we're "alone", we tried to make the best of it. The temperature was around 65, so we went outside and played. We ended up playing baseball out in the street, which is one of the favorite things I used to do as a kid. Zippy was able to get into the fun by catching foul balls.
We had a quick video call with all the family back in Illinois. That was chaotic, but the girls enjoyed it. With all the noise and madness over at my brother's, I was almost thankful for our quiet time at home.
I was asked about 20 times by 20 different people if we were going home for Thanksgiving. Funny how people just assume you go home for every holiday. We may not have the rest of our family around, but what we have is enough. We were thankful to spend Thanksgiving together as a family, even if it was just the 4 of us.
British Scientists Kill Oldest Living Animal
This is special for Paul. Check out the comments. Quite amusing.
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