zoontown

Makin' it Rain

2009-03-09T16:27:00.000-04:00

There is apparently an A/C drain in the ceiling above my desk. Over the weekend, that drain clogged, prompting water to soak through the ceiling and shower my desk with condensational goodness. Ironically, it completely missed my plant, which is the only thing on my desk that needed water.

Coincidence?

2009-02-10T12:40:00.002-05:00

Just an observation...

In 2003, the two MVPs in Major League Baseball were:

American League: Alex Rodriguez (Texas Rangers)
National League: Barry Bonds (San Francisco Giants)

Let the " * " begin...

embry

2009-02-02T13:50:00.001-05:00

Not much to see in this end of the pool. For the latest news and updates, head on over to "Embry's Board".

perspective

2009-01-14T20:03:00.003-05:00

A friend of mine was a Drill Sergeant in the Army, serving two tours of duty in Iraq. Another member of his family also served, but is now in the hospital with pneumonia. His treatment and recovery are complicated by his HIV status. While a "normal" person typically has a T-cell count between 700-1400., today his CD4 (T-cell) count dropped below 40.

The massive amount of antibiotics administered took two nurses to carry due to the weight of the material. And while I'm not certain of the name of the medicine, he told me it is some sort of naturally occurring substance in the body that without it causes blindness. The nurses wore thick, lead-lined gloves while starting the treatment.

He went on to tell me that everyone in the family is taking turns visiting him in the hospital...expect his father. An ex-Army officer, his father refuses to accept his son's lifestyle and subsequent HIV status. They haven't spoken in almost twenty years. My friend continues to try and explain that he is running out of time to make amends; that his son is going to pass soon, and with that passing goes any opportunity for apologies or atonement. And yet, his father won't budge. He will not even call and speak to his son in the hospital.

Somehow, this makes my brother canceling on us at Thanksgiving that much less significant...

Life teaches us lessons in surprising, yet opportunistic ways. Most of the time, we miss them because we are distracted by something seemingly more important.

Today, for instance, I spoke with one of my colleagues, who explained that I've become the scapegoat for many of the things going on at my former company. My response was, "Well...yeah. That's one of the reasons I left: they are more concerned with assigning blame than finding solutions." Fault is always passed to those who move on, absolving those left behind of any responsibility.

Later, I found myself reflecting on our conversation and realized I was getting defensive, trying to figure out what I could have done differently to avoid the outcome. Never mind the fact that I've been gone for seven months. Never mind that my decisions were based on the cards I had at the time, and a new deck was played after I left. Never mind the job I left for has more responsibility, better hours, higher salary, and actual opportunities for advancement. In so many words, "Why the f**k do I care?!"

And then I saw a commercial for the Army, which reminded me of my friend and his family. Suddenly, a lot of emotions and rationalizations fell into place. It's amazing how quickly our priorities can get shuffled.

snow falling on cincy

2009-01-12T19:04:00.005-05:00

I've lived in Cincinnati for over 10 years, so you would think the weather forecasts would cease to amuse me. I remember the first time I laughed out loud when I heard the term "Sun Delay". When I asked one of my co-workers at the time what the weather guy meant by a Sun Delay, she explained, "Well, sometimes you drive up a hill and the sun is directly in front of you, so it's hard to see." Really? No...Oh my gosh...Surely, Cincinnati must be the only place on Earth where this happens. As it happens, this phenomenon occurs elsewhere as well; Cincinnati is just the only city where people slow down to 30 mph on the highway because of it.

Today, I've been hearing reports of the "Winter Storm" making its way across the United States. At first, the big news was the falling temperatures, as they predict the highs to be in the teens the rest of this week. Ok...I'll give you that's a little chilly. Of course, those of us from the Cleveland are refer to those types of temperatures as "Spring". While driving home, however, the newscasters began talking not about the cold, but about the chance for -- get this -- "blowing snow".

That's right folks...snow simply falling may be newsworthy, but throw in some wind and it beckons the label of "severe weather". I fear that if the sun is out too, we may have ourselves a natural disaster.

Having studied Meteorology, I understand how unpredictable the weather patterns can be throughout this part of the country. But I've also lived in Ohio my entire life and have learned to expect drastic changes throughout the day. When I hear the weather folks say, "Expect accumulation up to an inch", I laugh because that is barely enough to cover the grass. I grew up hearing the words "Lake Effect Snow", which means anywhere from an inch to four feet. The most impressive thing about four feet of snow is not your buried lawn, is not even the drifts between the houses...but rather the enormous piles of snow in the mall parking lots after they plow. These snow hills were easily some 40-50 feet high and were still visible in June. Cool stuff!

Anyway, I'm really not making fun of the newscasters or the people who buy into their panic-inducing predictions. I've just never understood when the weather became such a topic of attention. How did people 30 years ago survive without Weatherbug? Do we really need updated forecasts every 15 minutes? More importantly, if the weather does change, will you completely alter your life around it? There are people in our office that bolt for their homes at the first sign of a snowflake. Their rationale: "They aren't concerned about the snow. They are more worried about the idiots that can't drive in it." Yet, it always sounds like an excuse for leaving early. I've always thought, "Wouldn't you want to stay off the roads so the plows can treat them?!" Instead, everyone rushes out en masse and creates a traffic nightmare.

But I'm digressing into a whiny diatribe. I'm just sitting here trying to watch Jeopardy, but keep getting distracted by the severe weather alert scrolling across the bottom of the screen. "I'll take The Winter of Our Discontent for $1000, Alex."

random observationisms

2009-01-11T16:08:00.004-05:00

Watching the Foosball
My track record in football games over the past few weeks is not good; I keep backing the wrong horses. I was hoping the Baltimore Ravens would lose in the first round of the playoffs. They did not. Then, I was hoping the Indianapolis Colts would win. They did not. I was rooting for Ohio State, Oklahoma, Cincinnati, and Ball State in various bowl games. They all lost. Surely the New York Giants can buck this trend and beat the Philadelphia Eagles, right? Nope. Oh, well. Maybe I'll break my age-old rule and actually root for the Pittsburgh Steelers, even though that's a cardinal sin for someone from Northeast Ohio.

Kid Genes
I've never been able to explain why I'm missing the kid genenome. I'm an uncle to over 10 nieces and nephews, and we live next door to a house full of pre-teen girls. But as far as having any interest in my own kids, there is less than zero. Never had any interest whatsoever in having kids. And part of me actually feels slightly guilty about this. We know people that can't have children and would give anything to be parents. When I'm around them and I make a comment about not wanting kids, you can see the disappointment on their faces. I wish only the best for them and I'm sympathetic to their reproductive struggles, but I decided a long, long time ago kids were not in my cards.

Puppy vs. Treadmill
All in all, Traz has been an easy foster dog. Other than the initial snapping from the other dogs on Day One, we've had no aggression from anyone. To-date, Traz has eaten a hole through a blanket, dug up and eaten some lanscape lights, likes to chew on towels and throw rugs, and loves to eat frozen clumps of dirt and mulch (but, you know, who doesn't?!). Otherwise, he hasn't done anything overly destructive. Yesterday, however, he told us what he thought of the treadmill by standing on it and peeing. He has not peed in the house before or since, but -- for whatever reason -- he decided the treadmill was dirty and needed hosed off. Maybe that's why Mason tried to pee on RanDee in the shower...?!

What's in a Name?
Speaking of Traz, how many nicknames does a foster dog need to have before he ceases to be a "foster" and you start referring to him as "your new dog"? So far, he is known as Alcatraz, Alka Selzter, Traz, Traz Man, Trazzy, Trazmanian Devil, Traz-continental, Traz-Siberia, Trazlator, Trazformer, Trazmission, Trazzador, Traztastic Man......or just Puppeh.

Alert Level: Orange (High)
After losing two dogs in five weeks towards the end of last year, I've found I'm still on high alert. Yesterday, Darcy got sick and threw up across three throw rugs (never mind the rest of the floor is tile, of course...she HAD to throw up on the rugs, because that is Canine Law). For the rest of the day, I was trying to watch her every move and make sure she didn't throw up again. If she had, I probably would have taken her to the emergency vet clinic. Thankfully, she ate her dinner without incident and she seems her normal self today. We went to the dog park and she did her normal Basset-Spaniel behavior: wander, sniff, wander, pee, wander, bake tarts, wander, attack dog five times her size... Since then, she has eaten a bull penis and is now chewing on a bone. Life is good!

running to stand still

2009-01-07T21:31:00.005-05:00

I've spent the past few days with this phrase going round in my head. It started while I was running and listening to U2's "Veritgo" tour in Chicago, which is spectacular. When they started this song, which almost always follows "Bullet the Blue Sky" (one of my favorites), I actually stumbled a little bit because the thought stuck me: I really do feel like I'm running to stand still...meaning I feel like life is this constant race not to get ahead, but just to keep up with everything.

Granted, the song was written about a heroin addict from the Ballymun Seven Towers area of Dublin, but the lyrics reflect a sense of frustration and helplessness:

You've got to cry without weeping,
Talk without speaking,
Scream without raising your voice.

Henry David Thoreau once wrote "Our lives are frittered away by detail; simplify, simplify." There seems to always be something else: another bill to pay, another appointment to schedule, another call to return. When the lights turn off and we lie in bed at night, I think about the hours in the day and how I spent them. Before I realize it, the next day is wash, rinse, repeat. It often feels like I'm merely grinding away in the sand, only to have my tracks washed back into the ocean. But I know that is just High School mentality melodrama.

We all make our own history. Our accomplishments are up to us. Our legacies and destinies depend on each step we take, calculated or emotional. There are times to thrust your face into the wind and feel the rush of recklessness. Remind yourself that if tomorrow never comes, you have lived your best day today. Other times, we need to wrap ourselves in a blanket, close our eyes, and reject any and all responsibility. And then, when the next day arrives, we can't feel guilty about the consequences of our actions.

For this reason, I don't make New Years' resolutions. There are things I want to do this year: get married, travel out west, refinance and pay down some debt, lose five pounds, finally get started on building a recording studio... But I don't want to make them resolutions that hang over my head like an aging albatross. If the past few months have taught me anything, it's a long year and something will always get in the way. Instead, I've told myself to slow down, laugh more, take deep breaths, be the best person I can, and live within my niche.

But I'm not going to stop running.

my drawers

2009-01-06T20:58:00.006-05:00

Traz Man had a surprise for us last night. I opened the nightstand to get my book, then turned to talk to Cindy. While I wasn't looking, Traz walked over and closed the drawer with his nose. I looked down and thought to myself, "No way...that had to have been an accident." Naturally, I opened the drawer again, looked down at him, then raised my eyebrows in amusement as he pushed the drawer closed again. At that point, I went downstairs and grabbed his list of commands. Sure enough, on page two, is the command "Push"...which instructs the dog to close objects things with its muzzle. Two grown adults then spent the next 20 minutes entertaining themselves by opening various drawers and watching Traz close them. What can I say...slow night.

Directly below "Push" on Traz's list of commands is "Pull". I read that and thought, "SURELY Traz is not smart enough to OPEN drawers, too?! (...and if so, is anything in this house safe?!)" Back upstairs I went, walked over to the nightstand, looked down at Traz, and said, "Pull". He walked over to the drawer, put his mouth on the knob, then backed up, thus opening the drawer. We've since discovered he can open the cabinet doors in the kitchen, too.

My response to this, of course, is "Oh crap..."

Yes, it is very cute and we're having fun leaving drawers open for him to close, but this is somewhat foreboding because the magic drawers are filled with fluffy, soft objects...such as towels, oven mitts and dish rags...which he is obsessed with carrying around. We've already picked up all the throw rugs because he scoops them up and brings them to us. We also now have lovely, wet, black stains on the family room floor because he chewed off a piece of the doormat outside and brought it in. When he chewed it, puddles of dirty water squeezed out and embedded themselves in the carpet.

Guess it could be worse; could be urine...or ass particulates.

In other news, I'd like you all to meet Weebl and Bob. They like pie. I have no idea why we find this so amusing, but "mmm pie" has been part of our vocabulary for over almost seven years.

Not nearly as amusing as trying to pee on somebody in the shower, but it's all I got for today. Things are obviously pretty slow here in the 'nati...

no balls

2009-01-05T12:48:00.000-05:00

Our township created a men's baseball league and is recruiting residents. I've spent the past few weeks thinking about dusting off my knuckleball and signing up, but I keep resisting. First of all, I'm not sure my rotator cuff will take too kindly to pitching again. I was a reasonably efficient pitcher and I know the game, but it's been awhile since I've pitched to live batters. And if my physical therapist ever found out...
Secondly, and of greater concern, I've finally realized my body is older. I don't recover as well and I can't compete at the level I used to. And while the league is "35 and older", I know it will be littered with guys trying to relive their glory years of High School and college ball. It's the same attitude we fight in all of our rec softball leagues: the "Johnny Softball" who takes out the shortstop on a double play, slides with his spikes up, tries to throw runners out at first base from the outfield, plows the catcher on plays at the plate...all of the unsportsmanlike behaviors I detest. I'll be very angry the first time somebody tries to pitch me inside and beans me with a 70 mph fastball. Not because I got hit -- that's part of the game -- but because I'll sit at my desk the next day and dwell on it, thinking, "Why is this fun again? Is the game really worth 48 hours of pain?" Plus, I'll be jealous because I can't throw a 70mph fastball without a strong wind behind me. Guess I'll stick to Wii baseball.
...and building my Campus Legend in NCAA Football 2009.

Alcatraz, day one

2009-01-01T17:32:00.004-05:00

And in one swift move, the energy level in our house is back to what it was a few months ago. Behold, the power of the puppy...

The Back Story:
Alcatraz, aka "Traz", born January 1st of 2008, entered the Assistance Dog Training Program in March, 2008. After nine months of training, he was pulled from the prison program because he was a little too talkative, easily distracted and a little headstrong. He is still a candidate for becoming an "in-home" assistance dog, however, so he is still in training. We are now fostering him.

The Story So Far:
Traz arrived last night, circa 6:30pm, after an ill-fated trip to PetSmart (we missed their early New Years Eve closing by 15 minutes). Unfortunately, it was dark by the time we arrived home, which added a stressful element to the introductions. First up was Tank, who responded with a wide assortment of growls, then tried to bite off Traz's face. Old dogs - 1, New Dog - 0. Next, it was Sophie's turn. She responded by snarling, baring her teeth, then trying to bite off Traz's face. Old Dogs - 2, New Dog - 0. Finally, we introduced Traz and Darcy through the baby gate. Traz responded by leaping the gate and having his ankles bitten by the Spaniel Basset of Death. Old dogs - 3, New Dog - 0. To Traz's credit, he was unphased and continued bouncing at them: "play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me play with me".

Fast forwarding to today, things are surprisingly good. No baby gates, nothing separating any of the dogs; they all have free roam downstairs. Aside from the occasional nasty, snarling, resource-guarding episode from Sophie, there are no incidents to report. Traz keeps trying to half-heartedly hump TankMan, but he is having none of that. Some initial observations:

1) We've forgotten how much fun it is to watch puppies and their pure, unadulterated, unbridled joy. Traz loves to bounce and lope around, hoping one of the other dogs will join him; but if not, oh well - he will entertain himself by running back and forth through the house, then sliding across the tile floors.

2) It's been awhile since we've had a problem-solver in the house. If Traz sees something he wants, he gets it: be it the dish towel, a blanket, a toy on the counter, or something under the chair. It also took him less than 30 seconds to pop the lid off the food can in the pantry. He is not at all malicious and he stops what he is doing when you call him; just your typical, everyday puppiness.

3) Traz is an exceptional puppy. He turned a year old today and has what one can only describe as a "service mode". When you start putting him through his commands (sit, down, stay, kennel up, hurry, etc), you can see him snap to attention and you become the center of his world...albeit until he gets bored and wants to switch into "play mode". Still, for a dog who is working on his first 24 hours in a strange, new place, you really don't notice he is here.

4) He is going to start testing his handlers within the next few months. As is the case with most Labradors, he has a stubborn streak that will begin to show itself soon. He will work until he doesn't feel like working any longer, then is aloof and seems to just go through the motions. But the groundwork is definitely there and he has already surpassed Sophie in terms of temperament and obedience...though Sophie still has the record for most poop consumption per capita.

5) Traz's previous foster families note his uneasiness with reflections in glass, new people, and children, as well as his requiring constant supervision, lest he chews on furniture and pillows. So far, we've witnessed none of this (...other than him picking up the blanket a few times). He is fine with our dogs and the children from next door and pays no attention to reflections.

Traz does pick up his bowl and tries to carry it around and his hips are of concern. Otherwise, he looks to be overcoming most of the concerns listed in his notes. For a one year old Labrador puppy, he is very gentle and well-mannered.

If only one-year-old humans were this good...
Hopefully, he stays this good and I won't write a month from now about how "Traz ate the couch", or "Traz destroyed the kitchen table", or "Traz ate the 5-year-old next door", or "Traz stole a car, robbed the convenience store up the street, and is now an inmate at the State Correctional Facility".

if i had a million dollars

2008-12-30T11:36:00.003-05:00

On HGTV last night, we watched a woman shopping around for her new $1.6 million home. That got me thinking about the age-old fantasy: "If I won a million dollars, what would I do with it?" Keeping in mind the odds of winning a million are 1 in 175,711,536, I decided to waste a few moments thinking about how we could spend our newfound riches.
First off, before actually claiming the winning ticket, I'd hire an attorney. Aside from needing assistance in terms of the tax implications, I want to talk about creating legal entities for use as a) tax shelters, and b) ways to mask our identities and keep us out of the public eye, as the names and addresses of lottery winners are made public. Instead of leading folks to our doorstep, I'd rather create a trust with a PO Box address. A trust would also avoid probate of the lottery proceeds upon death of the winner and minimize taxes on the estate.
Secondly, I'd take the lump sum. It would really suck to take the 20-year payout option, only to see it withered away by taxes...or, worse yet, have one of us pass away before it is paid out.
Next, I expect to lose almost half of the million to taxes. You don't get any capital gains rate break for lottery winnings, nor is there any income averaging to help lower your tax bill. If you win more than $5,000 in the lottery, 28% must be withheld from your winnings for federal income tax purposes. This means: Initial Winnings ($1,000,000), less Federal Taxes ($720,000), less State Taxes...leaves the balance of the winnings at approximately $676,800...minus attorney fees...I'll round it off to an even $600,000.
My first thought is "How do we invest this money so we can quit our jobs and live off the interest?" The answer, surprisingly, is we can't. Let's assume we invest this money, divided 50-50 between a diversified portfolio of stocks and a diversified group of bonds. The S&P's 500 index currently yields less than 2 percent a year. But let's assume we find someplace with a 2% yield. The stock portion of the portfolio will throw off about $6,000 in income the first year. As for the bond portion, a reasonable estimate is a 5% per year yield...so $15,000.
Together, the first year interest on our winnings is $21,000. That leaves our interest only income at just $1,750/month. So much for THAT idea; looks like we're keeping our day jobs. (As a comparison, the Ohio unemployment compensation rate is between $365 - $493 per week...or $1,460 - $1,972/month.)
Instead, let's just have some fun and infuse the economy with that $600,000! Holding back $200,000 (because we have to save SOME of the money, right?), we have $400,000 to play with. To begin with, we'll pay off most of the mortgage (don't want to pay off all of the mortgage because of the tax benefits), then take care of the rest of our debts. From there, we can spread a little love around to the rest of the family. A lottery winner can make a gift of some of the lottery winnings up to the annual exclusion limit of $12,000 without incurring gift tax liability. If we give $11,999 to each of our respective families, that means $83,993.
And just like that, our $1,000,000 is down to $146,000.

Now, at long last, onto the fun part! This is the money we use on frivolity: new cars, traveling to England, Scotland, Italy, California, Alaska, Wyoming, Australia, etc.; donating to charities, creating scholarship funds, buying a monkey (haven't you always wanted a monkey?). Plus, we wouldn't have to eat Kraft Dinner...but we would eat Kraft Dinner...we'd just eat more.

We're ready! Bring on that winning ticket!

21

2008-12-29T15:22:00.002-05:00

1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? Not that I know of.

2. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? I rarely, if ever use it. While it was never very good, it is now considerably worse...

3. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT? Honey-roasted turkey

4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL? Blueberry Almond Crunch

5. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM? The Ben & Jerry's Brownie stuff is quite addictive...

6. RED OR PINK? Black

7. WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? Why waste time thinking about that? We all have things we don't like about ourselves, but so what? I only worry about the things within my control.

8. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE? A Turkey sandwich thing from Panera.

9. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? My co-workers talking about their iPhones, Xboxes, PlayStations, and other assorted Christmas gifts.

10. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? Burnt Sienna

11. MOUNTAIN HIDEAWAY OR BEACH HOUSE? Whichever is available, I'm there!

12. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH? Football, baseball, college basketball

13. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED? The Dark Knight

14. STRENGTH TRAINING OR CARDIO? Cardio

15. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES? The Stones

16. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME? Greece, New Amsterdam and Turkey

17. HOW DO YOU WANT TO BE REMEMBERED? I will happily settle for being remembered at all...

18. WHAT DRIVES YOU EACH DAY? Being the best person I can and hopefully contributing something to life in general.

19. YOU HAVE A 10-MINUTE SPEECH TO GIVE AT A HIGH SCHOOL; WHAT IS YOUR SPEECH ABOUT? The importance of self-realization and anti-materialism, being humble and generous in the face of adversity.

20. WHO DO YOU ADMIRE? People who use their super powers for good instead of evil.

21. SOMETHING YOU’VE DONE THAT NOBODY ELSE HAS? Hmm… I was once peed on by a 700-pound African tiger. Does that count?

twas the night before the night before christmas

2008-12-23T20:47:00.002-05:00

twas the night before Christmas Eve
And all through the house
I sit in my chair, Cindy prone on the couch.
She suffered a spill on our ice-covered path,
Slipping and falling; a second crack in her @ss.
A stack of Christmas cards taunts from the kitchen.
You'll get them...just late...so don't start a'bitchin'.
Winter weather advisories scroll on the TV
Inciting a panic amongst those who can read.
"Whatever you do, don't go outside!
The roads are so bad, you'll never survive!"

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a civic-minded salt truck! Our savior is here!
More rapid than eagles his coursers arrive,
And he dumped and spread his sodium chloride.
"Now salt! Now brine! Now de-icer mixture!
On bridges! On overpasses! Wherever it's thicker!"
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
Ice away! Ice away! Ice away all!"

When up to the back door suddenly flew,
A yellow Lab with her mouth full of pooh.
"Take all you want, but eat all you take.
You're not coming inside with that frozen poop steak!"
And then, in an instant, I heard a loud "Woof"
Then prancing and pawing of large Tank Man hooves.
As I closed the back door and was turning around,
The Tank Man jumped upward, four feet off the ground.
His black fur was bristling as he plowed through the door
And scooped up the turdburger dropped on the floor.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! A big smile on his snout
As he munched happily away on his poop sandwich sprout.
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
The turdsicle out each side, like two lumps of coal.
The stump of frozen poop held tight in his teeth
And the stench encircled his head like a wreath.

What I wouldn't give to have just one dog
That doesn't enjoy eating frozen dog logs.
With weather like this, they stay fresh for days
And our backyard remains one big fecal buffet.
Alas, I return to my chair and my slouch,
While the dogs, now stuffed, sleep soundly on the couch.
In this moment of peace before turning in for the night,
I wish Happy Christmas to all, and to all a goodnight!

three dog night

2008-12-18T12:39:00.003-05:00

Allow me to quickly recap how well I slept last night...

11:45pm Tank: scratch scratch scratch lick lick lick
12:30am Sophie: ssstttrrreeetch..."Hey, you're in my spot." *kick*
1:27am Darcy: *yawn* "Hey, are you awake? Are you trying to ignore me? What happens if I pant in your face with my old dog breath that smells like stale dog food, with just a hint of rotting cheese? Hmm... You turned your head the other way, so you must be awake. What happens if I climb on your back? Hey! This is pretty comfortable! Think I'll lie here for awhile, until your back is soaked with sweat and you roll over. Uh-oh...there you go...I'm falllllling..."
2:16am Tank: "Why is there suddenly a small black dog lying on me? Oh, crap! That's the one who bites!" *jumps down*
2:27am Tank: "Wait a second...why am I not on the bed? You can't possibly expect me to sleep on the floor when there is a perfectly good bed for me?" *jumps up* "Hmmm... Not much room left. Guess I'll just flop down on the human." *plop*
2:35am Sophie: ssstttrrreeetch..."Hey, you're in my spot." *kick*
2:47am Fire drill! Everybody switch!
2:58am Sophie: "I liked my old spot better." *jumps down*
3:05am Sophie: "Wait a second...why am I not on the bed?" *ssquueeaak* ... *ssquueeaak* ... *oof* ... *oof* ... *ssquueeaak* ... *oof* ...
I get out of bed and lift the helpless, squeaking, oof'ing Labrador back onto the mattress. The Labrador proceeds to sprawl and make herself the size of a Saint Bernard. I then cram myself into my customary five foot x one foot of sleeping real estate.
3:27am I think to myself, "What in the world is that horrible, acrid stench?!” I don't want to open my eyes because I'm certain somebody has jumped off the bed and birthed a monstrously large sh!t onto our recently cleaned carpet. While I’m wagering the internal struggle of whether or not I need to get out of bed and clean up the pile, I hear a very tired groan and the sound of air whistling out of a Ziploc bag. Regrettably, I open my eyes to a rush of warm stink and the sight of a Labrador ass less than three inches from my face. My eyes burning, I stumble out of bed, look around and see nothing of fecal-like quality on the floor, then push the suddenly 500-pound yellow Labrador out of my spot, and attempt to fall back asleep, with the scent of overly-processed kangaroo meat lingering in the night air.
4:13am Sophie: ssstttrrreeetch..."Hey, you're in my spot." *kick*
4:37am Tank: lick lick lick scratch scratch scratch lick lick lick scratch scratch lick lick
4:45am Darcy: pant pant pant pant lick lick lick lick lick lick
5:18am Sophie: "I liked my old spot better." *jumps down*
5:32am Tank: lick lick lick scratch scratch scratch lick lick lick scratch scratch lick lick
6:25am Sophie: Wait a second...why am I not on the bed?" *ssquueeaak* ... *ssquueeaak* ... *oof* ... *oof* ... *ssquueeaak* ... *oof* ...

Screw it… I’m getting up.

movies 1 -> 30,000

2008-12-17T15:15:00.003-05:00

By request, let's try the same thing with numbers...

One Flew Over the Cukoo's Nest
Two Weeks
Three Amigos
3:10 to Yuma
Four Rooms
Five Corners
Sixth Sense
Seven Brides for Seven Brothers
Eight Men Out
9-to-5
10
Ocean's 11
12 Monkeys
The 13th Warrior
14 Hours
Fifteen Minutes
Sixteen Candles
Stalag 17
Eighteen
Twenty Bucks
21
Catch 22
Twenty-Four Eyes
25th Hour
26 Men
27 Dresses
28 Days
29 Palms
Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo
33 Scenes from Life
Miracle on 34th Street
35 Up
36 Steps
37 Uses for a Dead Sheep
The 40-Year-Old Virgin
41
42nd Street
44 Minutes
.45
48 Hours
49th Parallel
50 First Dates
52 Pickup
54
55 Days at Peking
Passenger 57
Gone in 60 Seconds
61*
Sixty Six
69
75 Degrees in July
80 Minutes
83 Hours 'Til Dawn
84 Charing Cross Road
88 Minutes
United 93
99 Pieces
100 Girls
101 Dalmations
102 Dalmations
200 Cigarettes
300
587: The Great Train Robbery
633 Squadron
800 Bullets
2001: A Space Odyssey
2012
100,000 BC
1408
5150
20,000 Leagues Under the Sea
30,000 Leagues Under the Sea

movies a -> z

2008-12-17T11:16:00.002-05:00

For no other reason than I'm unfathomably bored on this conference call, I'm listing some of my favorite movies for each letter of the alphabet. This is by no means conclusive...I just thought it would be a fun exercise in pointlessness:

Alien
Blues Brothers, The
Caddyshack
Dances With Wolves
Erin Brockovich
Ferris Beuller's Day Off
Godfather, The
Hoosiers
Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark
Jaws
King and I, The
Lethal Weapon
Monty Python and the Holy Grail
Natural, The
O Brother Where Art Thou?
Patriot Games
Quiz Show
Rain Man
Scent of a Woman
Tombstone
Usual Suspects, The
Victory
Wall Street
X-Men
Young Frankenstein
Zodiac

lunch FAIL

2008-12-16T12:50:00.010-05:00

What my lunch looks like on the box:

What my lunch actually looks like:

I'm going to McDonald's...

my first time

2008-12-15T11:26:00.003-05:00

Thank you all for your kind words and condolences. Some day, this will all sink in…but for now, all we can do is tango on.

On Saturday, I was hungry…starving…and, as I drove past a McDonald’s, realized I hadn’t had McDonald’s in several years. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time I had something from their quality selection of menu items. It was a 9-piece McNuggets, but I can’t recall the vintage.

As I pulled into the drive thru and began surveying the menu, my indecisiveness struck me as funny. After all, they haven’t changed their menu in years, yet I’m still compelled to read every menu item, perhaps in a vain attempt to find that one elusive, low-calorie offering. Other than the Rubber McChicken or the Nasty McSalad, such an article does not exist.

And that’s when it dawned on me that I’d never had a Quarter Pounder. Yes, that is correct: I’ve never eaten the signature item at McDonald’s. The first McDonald's franchise opened in Des Plaines, Illinois back in 1955, and their first burger offering was the Quarter Pounder (see what you learn when you spend halftime watching the Food Network?). For over 53 years, millions of people have eaten the Quarter Pounder…but not me. I’ve eaten the hamburgers, cheeseburgers, filet-o-fish-like substance, McNuggets, grilled chicken, extra fat-laden fried chicken, Big Mac…I’ve even eaten the McRib, blissfully unaware of what meat byproduct actually makes up a McRib. But never a Quarter Pounder.

Throwing caution to the wind, I ordered my 510 calorie, 100% real* beef concession and began consumption. Though not exactly the quality of – say – Red Robin (…yummmmm…), it wasn’t the stringy, chewy, gristle-laden mass of meat I’ve come to expect from fast food. Afterwards, while managing to avoid the typical McShakes and the urge to McVomit, I did feel less hungry, but also somewhat hollow and a little greasy. But at least now I’m a proud member of the Quarter Pounder Club, even if it did take me over 30 years to get there.

* - depends on how you define “real”. SPAM ® is real, in a sense, but notice how neither of these product descriptions contain the word “natural”?

Marci, 3/3/1998 - 12/13/2008

2008-12-13T21:05:00.006-05:00

Let nothing disturb thee;

Let nothing dismay thee;

All things pass:

God never changes.

Patience attains

All that it strives for.

He who has God

Lacks for nothing:

God alone suffices.

- The Bookmark

St. Teresa of Avila

random neural firings

2008-12-12T13:03:00.005-05:00

My brother turns 42 today. In the car this morning, my niece reportedly said, "Are you really 42? That seems old. Are going to die soon?" It reminded me of my favorite Deep Thoughts by Jack Handey:
If a kid asks where rain comes from, I think a cute thing to tell him is "God is crying." And if he asks why God is crying, another cute thing to tell him is "Probably because of something you did."

I try to be fit, stay in shape, lose weight...you know, all that crap. As Cindy will attest, it reduces my stress level (somewhat) and keeps me from eating my own head. For the past few months, I've been running around 5 miles a day, at least four days a week. My workout schedule over the past few days looks like this:
Saturday - 5.25 miles
Sunday - 5.25 miles
Monday - 5.50 miles
Tuesday - 5.50 miles
Wednesday - couch miles
Thursday - 5.65 miles
Friday - PlayStation miles
This morning was my monthly weigh-in. I've lost a grand total of two pounds. How's THAT for a dose of de-motivation!

Whilst shopping at Target, I almost bought a 2-pack of black t-shirts, considering my black t-shirts are several years old and have holes in them. But then I thought, "You know, I really don't want to spend $10 on t-shirts right now", and put them back. It's funny how I won't spend $10 on something I'll have for years, but then turn around and drop $12 on a pizza for dinner.

I currently manage eight people. Of that group, I have a "core team" of three...maybe four...depending on the moon phase. The rest are unpredictable, dramatic and oftentimes unprofessional. This morning, I hadn't even taken off my coat when one of them popped his head over the cube wall and started yelling at me. I waited for him to finish, looked at him quizzically, then said, "...and good morning to you." We all want to yell at our manager at some point. And since I know I do and say things that drive my team nuts, I'm receptive to all forms of feedback. Thing is, I've never, ever walked up to my boss and "told 'em how it is" or "how it's going to be". I've walked in their office and said, "I need to talk to you about what you said" and we've had a very candid conversation, but I've never gotten all bitchy and condescending. I guess that's what is missing these days: respect. No...it's not even that so much as common courtesy.

We were watching "Survivor" last night and I was reminded again why it is hands-down one of my least favorite programs in history. The faux drama and conniving, scheming strategization make my ears bleed. It also reaffirms my belief that "reality" television is the source of our culture's rudeness. If you think about it, all of these TV shows (Survivor, American Idol, America's Top Model, The Apprentice, MSNBC...) have one thing in common: judgmental, authoritarian-type people who come up with creative ways to unnecessarily ridicule the contestants. Same thing goes for people who leave negative, hateful feedback and comments on Amazon, CNN, eBay, blogs, etc. It's all about how rude you can be and how large a bag of flaming dog poop you can leave on somebody's doorstep. That's a whole lot of wasted energy.

As I sit here chewing through a rubberized helping of microwave turkey and mashed potatoes, I'm reminded of the yin-yang turkey they used to serve in Elementary School; the perfectly symmetrical, half white meat / half dark meat turkey patties that me wonder what part of the turkey they came from. Maybe it was some sort of special, imported, interracial turkey. I mean, it had to be 100% natural, right? The cafeteria folks wouldn't dream of serving the students overly-processed, preservative-laden foodstuffs....would they?

Speaking of which, what exactly is SPAM® made of? In case you were wondering as well, the answer is ham, pork, sugar, salt, water, potato starch, and sodium nitrite (for color). Answers to this question and the many others you undoubtedly have about SPAM® are answered in the readily-available SPAM® FAQ. My favorite line is when they refer to SPAM® as being "like meat with a pause button".

bail me a river

2008-12-11T16:34:00.000-05:00

On today's date back in 1792, King Louis XVI of France was tried for treason. One of his greatest responsibilities as king was to deal with the country's enormous debt, but his indecisiveness and conservatism led the people to reject him. He was eventually guillotined (is that actually a verb?) on January 21, 1793.

My random quote of the day is from Mark Twain, who said, "Don't go around saying the world owes you a living. The world owes you nothing. It was here first."

Both of these are somewhat apropos for the day, as our government continues deliberation on the $14 billion bailout package for the automakers. On one hand, I understand it: the failure of these three companies will indeed have massive, global economic repercussions. While the majority of the job losses will be directly within GM, Ford and Chrysler, the downstream impact on their parts makers and suppliers, advertisers, and creditors is even more daunting. And putting another 2.5 million people out of work will further strain a compromised economy.

On the other hand, however, these three companies are in this position because of a series of poor decisions, including sub-par products and overproduction. Other companies, such as airlines and steelmakers, have survived bankruptcy. You reorganize and adjust…just not all at once.

I really just can’t wrap my head around what $14 billion means. That’s $14,000,000,000,000…or just about equal to the entire U.S. Gross National Product (GNP), the total dollar value of all final goods and services produced for consumption in society during a particular time period. For perspective, the National Cancer Institute (NCI) budgeted just over $4.5 billion in 2007. That’s a lot of dough for some dysfunctional mojo.

Thing is, where does it end? Companies are lined up with their palms out expecting the government to bail them out of their poor decisions. What makes the Big Three more deserving than the National Cancer Institute? A few years ago, we leased a new car, then converted that lease into a purchase. Not at all a smart business decision, as we will be paying almost three times the car’s final value once it is paid off. With the way people are acting of late, I should be able to go back to the dealer and say, “Things are really tight right now and I’m afraid of not being able to make my remaining payments. If you use some of that bailout money to pay off my loan, I’ll buy another car from you.” Which, of course, I won’t because of the aforementioned quality issue…

But don’t I deserve some of this hot bailout action?! After all, I pay my taxes and I’m never late with the car payments or the mortgage. But apparently, the abiding good citizens don’t get bailed out. We are merely rewarded with conscience, responsibility and integrity.

And cars are too expensive for that…

the most wonderful time of the year

2008-12-10T15:17:00.002-05:00

Another year comes to a close, and -- once again -- the Information Technology Gods have descended upon us and requested their yearly homage in the form of budget reductions. After over 10 years in the field, I'm almost immune to the whole process as we sit around tables and talk about eliminating positions as if we were trading baseball cards. "I'll trade you a Don Mattingly rookie card for a handful of your Topps Jay Bruce. The Mattingly is worth a lot right now, but the Bruce cards are less expensive and have the potential to go way up in value."
Almost two weeks into the last month of our fiscal year, and management starts throwing around phrases such as "30% reduction" and "we're doing everything we can to avoid cutting headcount". But the realists in the group understand the largest company expense is its people. Very rarely, if ever, can you achieve such a large reduction without eliminating positions. I reflect on all of this as I look out the window, watching 1/4 of my team drive away, having left early for personal reasons. Meanwhile, 200 yards away, someone is losing their job only because they have the shortest time-on-title.
And why? Because somebody in the company suddenly discovered they weren’t going to “make their numbers” for the year? Aside from wondering how one does not make that realization until 49 weeks into the year, I’m curious as to when the company will hire new employees to replace those being let go. Typically, positions are eliminated in November and December to improve the proverbial, infamous bottom line. But then, towards the end of the first quarter the following year, companies start hiring again in order to handle the “huge influx of work”. Wash, rinse, repeat.
And so I try to keep my head down and work hard while I listen to one of my managers on the phone talking about hamsters. I ignore the person who sits behind me making travel arrangements for a girls volleyball team all day. I pay no attention to someone across the way who is watching YouTube and doesn’t realize the headphones aren’t plugged in. When I go to the printer and see the stack of receipts from someone doing their online Christmas shopping, I merely set them aside and walk away. I’m sure the person spending all day downloading applications to their new iPhone has not a single ticket in the queue, so I’ll commend them on their diligence and be on my way. I will just be happy I have a job and am not one of the tens of thousands who will spend Christmas praying for employment. My card is in the stack somewhere, of course, but hopefully I’ll at least get fair market value when I become a free agent.

why my body hates me

2008-12-09T12:49:00.006-05:00

This may be the most disgusting food-like substance I've ever tried to consume. In Spanish, "suiza" translates to "Swiss". A swiss cheese enchilada? Ok, I'm game. But then why is the cheese a somewhat orangeish white, gelatinous syrup? I'm quite certain I've not heard the last from this chicken enchilada mierda del perro.

scenes from a vinyl-covered chair in a restaurant

2008-12-09T09:25:00.004-05:00

We rarely go out to eat these days because it takes away from our dog food money. Last night, we went out for ribs in celebration of Cindy's profound smartness at work. During dinner, in a vain attempt at thwarting the auditory onslaught of Christmas music, I learned a few Sociological lessons worth sharing:
1. While you may describe your 5-year-old as "cute" and "frogger-like" as they obnoxiously hop around the restaurant, those around you are thinking of different adjectives.
2. If you are more than six months pregnant, you may want to re-think wearing a thong...if not for you, for the rest of us being subjected to the helpless, screeching cries of fabric as it valiantly attempts to retain its elasticity. Plus, when I'm stuffing my face with pork products, I don't need to see the Texas Longhorns logo through your ill-fitting khakis every time you bend over.
3. Why have people suddenly decided shoes are optional? This was not a pretentious, 5-star restaurant, of course, but what lessons are you teaching your child when you allow them to publicly run amuck in only sock-laden feet? Is it too much to ask your child to keep their shoes on for an hour?
4. If you dangle your finger upside-down in front of your camera phone, the picture of your finger looks somewhat penis-like. It's then apparently funny to send this picture to your friends.
5. Old school waitresses and servers are awesome! They are finely-tuned hosting machines: friendly, courteous and cordial. None of them were under 50 years old, but they could teach a clinic on customer service for some of the other people who have waited on us. No, we are not at all pretentious folk requiring constant culinary attention. But when we address our server and tell them, "I did not order these green eggs and ham. I will not eat them.", we don't expect them to look at us, shrug, and walk away. I'm reminded of the infamous lunch at a local burger establishment during which Cindy said, "I ordered this without Red Red Sauce (i.e. ketchup). This burger has Red Red Sauce on it." The server looked at her, raised her eyebrows in confusion, and uttered -- and I quote -- "Buh...?" Anyway, the servers last night were excellent, if not slightly overzealous. Thank you!

one monday in december

2008-12-08T15:16:00.002-05:00

I now have a blog.
And away in the distance,
A lonely dog barks.