Out with the old...

We're inching up on the new year. God, it couldn't be any worse than 2008. You know, when I think about it, it could, so I'll choose not to bollocks it up by saying it can't be worse. I just hope it isn't.

Have fun tonight, but be safe. I'll be stumbling up to the neighbors for what I expect to be a fairly tame evening. We're pretty sedate at this age.

Hoping this sees everyone healthy and happy in 2009.

Happy Anniversary!

It was a year ago, today, that I worked my last at (Big Software Company). After 16 years and a day, it was time to leave and do something different. That thing? Going back to school as a full-time student to get my degree.

Do I miss work?

ha ha ha Ha Ha HA HA HAAAAAAAAH HA HA HAAAAAAAAAAAAH HAAA HAAA HAA HAA HA!

Uh, excuse me. Oh, yes, I miss it immensely...

Christmas goodies

So, I know it's not about receiving, it's more in the giving that one derives Holiday pleasure, but I gotta tell you about one of the gifts my wife got me.

Back in September or so, of this year, the wife and I were in the Fremont area and stopped into an antique store (consignment shop?). I think she'd been in there a few days earlier and wanted to show me some Scottie dog drinking glasses. One look, and I was in love. They were about 5" high, with a frosted base, and 1,2, and 3 gradients etched into the sides. The coolest part is that near the top, on both sides, was the sandblasted head of a Scottish Terrier. I loved them. How much?, we enquired. $40. Hmm... for six glasses. I just couldn't bring myself to spend that much on something so unnecessary. We left, but I was kicking myself in the ass, wondering if I shouldn't go back and offer $30. The idea of being rejected, and the abuse my ego would take in the process, was the only thing that held me back.

About a month later, a friend and I were in the same neighborhood drinking, when I asked to stop by to see if they were still for sale. We got to the store about 5 minutes after they'd closed, but I couldn't see them through the window. I was sure they'd been sold to some lucky customer and they were enjoying them that very minute. I was crushed.

I spent the last 3 months silently regretting my decision. When my wife's friend was in town in October, I was telling her about the glasses and she asked how much they were. When I told her, she said we should go down and get them. I didn't because I was sure they'd already been sold, and I didn't want to eat my pride in front of the store sales people.

I searched on eBay to see if there was anything remotely like them on sale, but there was nothing like them out there. This only exacerbated my feelings of regret.

Christmas comes and I'd opened my stocking stuffers and smaller presents, when the wife handed my a somewhat heavy, medium-sized box. I peeled off the wrapping and saw my name on the label. Hmmm... it took me a second to realize it was a box she'd reused to wrap whatever was in the box. I reached in and found something wrapped in tissue paper. I pulled it out and set it aside. I reached into the box and pulled out another cylindrical object, also wrapped in tissue paper. I couldn't imaging what these were, so I pulled off the tissue paper of the second object, and while I did, I could see the head of a Scottish terrier, sandblasted into the side of a glass! Yes! Yes! Yes! My wife got me the treasured glasses.

As it turned out, while my wife's friend was here, she convinced my wife that $40 was nothing and that she should go down and buy them. When the friend was telling me that I should go down and buy them, they'd already purchased them, and she was teasing me... Absolutely one of the biggest surprises (and best gifts) I've had.

I immediately took them into the kitchen and washed them. They are now proudly displayed in our liquor cabinet, and they look great! Thank you, thank you, thank you!

I'll take a small slice, please

Well, I'm not willing to eat a full piece of humble pie; let me have 1/2 slice and call it good.

We got some fairly strong winds last night, but nothing on the order they'd predicted, there were very limited power outages, but we did see fairly significant snow fall; on the order of about 5-6 inches. We have had more snow tonight and are projected to get anywhere from 4-8 more inches overnight. That's fine with me. I don't mind staying home and chillin'.

I'll report back tomorrow with the overnight totals.

KMTT, "The Mountain", 103.7 FM is the radio equivalent of alfalfa sprouts...

... absolutely no redeeming value.

Ooooh, storm of 2008

I've been thinking about the storm we're predicted to have tonight. I suspect we won't get the winds they've been talking about, and the snow amounts? We might seem them on the order they've predicted, but I doubt we'll see the power outages, and other related issues they've been warning about. Each time they get a massive prediction wrong, the populace develops a belief, rightly or wrongly, that they weathermen don't know what they're doing (and who can blame them). So on that one rare occasion when the weathermen get it right and no one listens, you get the kind of hell you get with Katrina. All the non-believers wind up suffering because they didn't prepare for the apocalypse.

It remains to be seen who is right: the weathermen or the non-believers.

If it's any comfort to you, the reader, I've had one bottle of wine. I think it's wise to be heated from within...

No, Dog, I just couldn’t do it

I went to have my eyes checked and to get a new pair of glasses. At my age, I figured a new prescription was in order, and I've had the same style of frames for 9 years. I'm not a fashion horse, by any means, but it was time to check out a new look.

Yes, my prescription had changed. Whatever.

Now it's time to find some new frames. I went to a smaller optician, so my options were a little more limited than, say Lenscrafters, but that was fine. What to get, what to get...

Narrowed it to three manufacturers, then finally down to two. One is the 1002, from the Randy Jackson line of frames...

the other frames were from Denmark.

These are the Kliik 239. In a number of ways, I liked the Randy Jackson frames better, but the way the temples attached to the frame... it just didn't look as stable, and I figured they'd break off and I'd be back in 6 months buying new frames. Not an appealing prospect. When I go back for new frames in a year, if the optician says they have not had any problems with them, I'll consider the RJs.

Until then, I'll go with the sturdy metal frames.

Waiting for the big one

We're predicted to have one hell of a storm tonight, but it's just not happening (yet). It started snowing, very lightly, around 2:45 this afternoon, and it really started to pick up by 4. Lots of nice, tiny flakes. Oh, boy, this is gonna be good.

It's now 7:15, 23 degrees. The snow has let up a little bit, and where are the big winds? I know I'm probably cursing the entire Puget Sound area into an icy, doomy death, but I just wanna know how accurate the weather forecasters are. So far, no good.

Where do CD players go when they die?

I've ordered a few new CDs and have just started receiving them in the mail. I went downstairs to put them in the CD rack and just to make sure I had all the cases put up, I went to the Man Room, to see if there were any loose ones floating around in there. I popped open the CD player, only to find it was empty. I guess I could have guessed as much by the lack of diamond cases on the table, but wanted to be sure. As the 5-disc tray opened and started to rotate, as if looking for a CD, the platter rotated loudly and in a jerky manner. It's been doing this for quite some time, but it's obviously getting worse. At some point, it will probably cease to work at all and I will be confronted with the option of repairing it or replace it.

Well, I know I probably won't fix it. It would cost more to fix it than it's worth, and the options on the new players would far exceed the capabilities of the current player. I really like the old player, and it's more than served its purpose, but it seems criminal to just throw it away. When I bought this player, it was to replace one that matched all my stero components, and it wasn't cheap at $500. It was a Harman/Kardon, single-disc player that did nothing more than FF, Reverse, Pause/Stop. This was back in 1986 and players would just coming onto the market. The current players is also a H/K, cost about $200, and had a lot more functionality than the first player.

It seems like such a shame to throw them away, but I'm not going to throw good money to fix something, when I can do better with my money on a new unit.

What does one do with consumer electronics that no longer serve their purpose, but are fixable (although not economically)?

Baby, It's Cold Outside

We're coming to the end of the first full week of generally frigid temperatures, with a winter storm forecast for later today. The projections are that portions of the state will experience sustained winds of 50-70 mph, with gusts reaching upwards of 90 mph. Combine that with our current air temps of 20 degrees and lower, and you can only guess how low the wind chill factor might get. Needless to say, they are predicting lots of damage and power outages... Hopefully, we won't be impacted by the winds or outages. All of this brings to mind the Ray Charles/Betty Carter version of the classic, "Baby, It's Cold Outside".

So, for your reading pleasure, may I introduce to you the lyrics to this great song?

According to Wikipedia, the words and music were written in 1944 by Frank Loesser. The female voice in the song is called "The Mouse" and the male "The Wolf."

The Mouse - The Wolf

I really can't stay - Baby it's cold outside

I've got to go away - But, baby it's cold outside

This evening has been - Been hoping that you'd drop in

So very nice - I'll hold your hands, they're just like ice

My mother will start to worry - Beautiful, what's your hurry

And father will be pacing the floor - Listen to the fireplace roar

So really I'd better scurry - Beautiful, please don't hurry

Well maybe just a half a drink more - Put some records on while I pour

The neighbors might think - Baby, it's bad out there

Say, what's in this drink - No cabs to be had out there

I wish I knew how - Your eyes are like starlight now

To break this spell - I'll take your hat, your hair looks swell

I ought to say no, no, no, sir - Mind if I move in closer

At least I'm gonna say that I tried - What's the sense in hurting my pride

I really can't stay - Baby don't hold out

Ahh, but it's cold outside

I simply must go - Baby, it's cold outside

The answer is no - Ooh baby, it's cold outside

This welcome has been - How lucky that you dropped in

So nice and warm -- Look out the window at that storm

My sister will be suspicious - Gosh, your lips look delicious

My brother will be there at the door - Waves upon a tropical shore

My maiden aunt's mind is vicious - Gosh, your lips are delicious

Well maybe just a half a drink more - Never such a blizzard before

I've got to go home - Oh, baby, you'll freeze out there

Say, lend me your comb - It's up to your knees out there

You've really been grand - I thrill when you touch my hand

But don't you see - How can you do this thing to me

There's bound to be talk tomorrow - Think of my life long sorrow

At least there will be plenty implied - If you caught pneumonia and died

I really can't stay - Get over that old out

Ahh, but it's cold outside

Wrap it up before you stick it in

The Duggars of Arkansas (why am I not surprised by this?) just dropped their 18th kid.

From the MSNBC website we get this bit of info:

The Duggars are followers of the evangelical Christian movement called Quiverful, which teaches that children are God’s blessing and that husbands and wives should happily welcome every child they are given. In fact, the Duggars' Web site, duggarfamily.com, quotes “Children are a heritage of the Lord” from verse 3 of the 123rd Psalm.

First off, the word "evangelical" is telling, and I suspect their movement is really called Quimful.

Second, just because they should happily welcome every child they are given (should it be any other way?), it doesn't mean you are absolved of the responsibility of keeping your family to a reasonable size. And, give me a break: they weren't just "given" that child; they had more than a passive role in its creation.

Evangelicals, like many other Christian denominations are dead-set against abortions, but you don't see many of them lining up to adopt. In fact, Nebraska just recently rewrote a law lowering the age at which a child could be dropped off with the state (no questions asked) from 17 years down to 30 days. It seems that they were inundated with 35 children dropped off by parents from various states around the country. If their social systems at are risk from collapse because 35 children have been added to the dole, how are they going to manage with all the additional children that will be born should abortion be outlawed?

Where are all these Christian families lining up to adopt these kids? How is it possible that these kids wind up in the social system when we've been told by abortion opponents that there are all these loving, Christian families waiting and willing to adopt? It seems people only want to adopt cherubic, perfectly-healthy, white infants.

Getting back to the Duggars, it seems they have no love for a baby that isn't theirs. Where's their love for their fellow man (child)? How many kids do they need to add to this planet?

These people are pathetic, selfish embarassments.

Etiquette Schmetiquette

So, I'll admit that my table manners could use improvement. It's not that they're terrible, it's just that I eat quickly. The way I look at it is: Eat it at its intended temperature. If it's supposed to be hot, eat it while it's hot.

That got me to thinking about a few rare situations when I felt more than a little out of place. Take, for instance, the wedding we attended in Scotland. This was a formal, formal wedding. The reception was held at a country club and the room was decked out like nothing I'd ever seen before. The finest linens, plates, and silverware. The silverware had something on the order of 17 forks, 62 spoons and 34 knives. Well, maybe not that many, but you get the idea. If I'm eating anywhere in the US, I know the rules about using the utensils on the outside first and working your way in. No problem there, but what to do with the utensils at the at of the plate (12 o'clock position)?

Thinking back on that, I feel like the ugly American tourist, and would like to avoid future embarrassment.

So, I finally ordered a book on etiquette that's been on my Wish List forever. It came today and it was, SURPRISE!, an audio CD. How the hell am I supposed to learn etiquette from a CD? My first thought was to return it, but before I did, I wanted to make sure I got what I'd ordered. I visit to Amazon.com confirmed I did. I guess I should have read the description more carefully. I then re-read the comments and all 15 reviewers gave it a 5-star rating. Not many products get a unanimous rating like that, so I think I'll keep it.

I'll let you decide whether my manners have improved.

When and How?

Been reading the year-end wrap ups and the inevitiable celebrity passings of the past year.

In review, I find a number of people who died that were younger than I am. Many, of course, are older, but some are not that much older and it makes me realize that I could contract a serious illness in the next few years and be gone, well before I currently think I might die. I come from family that lives well into their 80s and 90s and hope to continue the trend. Hell, with medical advances being what they are, it would be nice to live a nice healthy life into my 90s.

As a young kid I used to think that on day of every year, would be my future date of death and in X years to that day, I would die. Sort of morbid, but it's the kind of thing I thought about. Still do.

How much time do I have? Who can say, but I definitely feel I need to put more life into my living. The average Joe shit just isn't cutting it.

It's like Christmas in December...

Flopping downstairs in the basement playing Guitar Hero 3 this afternoon. We're going out to a movie tonight, so the wife called me upstairs to get ready.

Popping upstairs, what should I find on the kitchen table? Not 1, not 2, but 3 packages for moi. Oh BOY! I tear into them like nobody's business. The first one, I have no idea what it might be, but sure enough, it's the book I ordered just a few days ago. I'm surprised only in that it came as quickly as it did. I know one is a DVD I ordered through SwapADVD.com, but which one? It turns out to be Monster's Ball. Oh BOY! For obvious reasons...

The third package is the 1960 Queen Anne Yearbook. I collect yearbooks from that school, and this particular edition has my ex-next-door-neighbor as a senior. He hasn't changed all that much and I can see the resemblence in his kids...

Better than Christmas.

Future orphans

I went to a friend's mother's memorial today. It wasn't a memorial in the traditional sense (whatever that means), it was simply a bunch of friends and family gathered at one of the son's home. There was a table there with momentos of the deceased, and a kitchen table with some food laid out. There was little discussion of the departed; no mention made of the death, no announcement, no maudlin speeches.

I felt sad for my friend, realizing that he was now an orphan. I still have both my parents, and can't imagine what it will be like when they're gone. I try to avoid thinking about such things, but realize that I will eventually be in the same situation someday (barring some unforseen disaster). No offense to the folks, but I don't want to go before they do.

I'm sure there's probably a sense of relief now that his mother has gone, but both he and his brother said that there's a big void in their lives. The best thing for them, they realized, is to focus on the good times they had together as a family. Thankfully, my friend got married about 5 years ago and had a son earlier this year. His brother has been married for quite a while and has two kids. Having a family to lean on must help during times like this.

♫♪♫ And now, the end is near... ♪♫♪

Two finals down, one to go. I polished off the Sociology final on Monday (feel pretty good about it), and the math final today (feel pretty good about that one, too). I just have to get through my Philosophy final tomorrow (and I don't feel very confident going into it).

I'll just be glad when it's over so I can get on to the business of next quarter's classes.

Dogs are amazing

This is an amazing dog. To see it dodge traffic, all in an effort to get a fellow dog off the road, is very touching.


Heroic dog tries to save fellow pooch

Organic, grass-fed beef is…

gross.

We just had the first meal prepared with the organic beef we purchased a few months ago.  The wife first pulled it out of the oven, and found a BLOOD GEYSER (great movie title, don’t cha think?) upon removing the fork from the roast.  I cut into it to see if it was cooked enough, and for someone who likes their meat medium rare, it was still quite red.  Combine that with the fact that the fat was a queasy-making yellow color, and I was happy to throw it back in for another 10 minutes.  When we pulled it out the second time, it was cooked, but the fat was still a disgusting yellow.  Is is supposed to be that color?  A quick internet search for “organic beef yellow fat” turned up that the color was correct.

OK, fat color aside, what did it taste like?  Slightly strange, and it was tough as hell. 

I don’t know about the what it must have been like to eat beef before the introduction of grain-fed, hormone-pumped production methods, but if it was anything like I had tonight, it’s a wonder eating beef became so popular.

I’ll take a slab of cow from Costco ANY day of the year.

Sadly, we still have a lot of organic cow to get through.

Yeah, but would you eat it?

A recent story details the recent harvesting of what is potentially the world's largest potato.

Fine, but too big, too small, or just right, I don't eat things that look like hemorrhoids.

Sorry, I just don't.

Another Thin Lizzy gem, Emerald

This one from the Live and Dangerous tour (78?)…  Again, Brian’s got the ever-present smoke stuffed between his fingers.  How does he do that without burning his digits?

Windows Live Writer (beta) to post to my Blogspot…

Just testing…

Smokin’ while burning. Look at Brian hold that smoke while doing his thing.

Phil Lynott was the coolest and baddest thing ever to come out of Ireland. His influence on 70s rock is undeniable, his loss is still palpable.

Stimulate my package

I want to know where I get in line for some of this federal bail out money.

First it was the financial institutions (who created their own mess). Then the car companies said, "Hey, give me some sugar, baby!" (Thanks Ashe!). Again, these corporate leaders (raiders?) created their own problems, and the arrogance on display when seeking this money was mind boggling. Only after a dressing down by those whose assistance they seek, do the Big Three heads put up their corporate jets for sale and, in the case of the Ford CEO, offer to reduce his salary to $1 per annum. A day late and a dollar short. When you are humbled into making this kind of gesture (long after Lee Iacocca did it), it doesn't look so altruistic.

And just tonight, on the local news site, I'm reading that the University of Washington is looking to get a $150 million hand out from the state taxpayers to make renovations to Husky Stadium. Another story has the Governor saying "Yeah, we could use a $600 million for short-term road and bridge projects that would help kick start our ailing economy." I suspect in the not to distant future, EVERY governor is going to show up with their hands out, looking to squeeze the teats of the bailout cash cow. When does it end? At what point do we say, enough with the requests for federal dollars? There is only so much money to go around and, truth be told, we don't even have that.

Guess what? A LOT of us little guys could use a stimulus package. Across the country, there are millions who, through no fault of our own, have seen our savings and retirement account get vaporized over the last few months. I have yet to hear a politician even broach the subject of attempting to make up for those losses.

I've been out of work for the last year, admittedly by my choice, but is that any different than the choices made by the banking and auto industries, whose final damage has yet to be realized? They want the easy, no-strings-attached escape plan.

Boy, can I relate. If, for example, I was to receive the paltry sum of, oh, let's start small and say $1 million (I can always come back for more if I need to, right?), I could pay off my bills, pay for my education, AND pump some much needed money into our economy. I'd even be willing to buy a new car, to help keep the auto industry afloat. See? I'm not a bad guy, I'm not greedy.

I just want my share...

For a change: A nice, uplifting story

http://fieldnotes.msnbc.msn.com/archive/2008/12/01/1685159.aspx

It's nice to read something positive and meaningful once in a while.

15 years ago

It was 15 years ago tonight, at about this time, when my ex's mother died.

My ex and I had broken up 4 months prior, but we were still in touch. I'd just gotten home from work and was getting ready to get something to eat when the phone rang. It was the ex. She was calling from her sister's house, where her mom had been moved when the hospital realized there was nothing more they could do for her. I could tell she was upset, so I asked if she wanted me to come up to her sister's place. She said she would, so I went.

Her mom had battled breast cancer five years earlier. We thought that it had been completely eliminated and that she would go on to live a long healthy life. Unfortunatetly, she started feeling a little under the weather, and repeated doctor visits came back with nothing more than, "you've got a cold" or some other dismissive comment. Eventually, she became progressively more ill to the point where the doctors took her seriously and gave her a thorough check up. The cancer had metastasized, and she was considered terminal. Over the course of a year, each time I saw her, it was obvious she was wasting away, but I remained in complete denial that she might actually die. I'm not sure what I expected to happen, but death seemed an impossibility.

So, here it was December 1, 1993, and I was driving up to my ex's sister's house. On the drive up, I thought that my ex might be overreacting, and that after a while I'd manage to excuse myself and go home. When I arrived, I found that all the family members had gathered and were visiting upstairs in the living room. While I can't say that everyone seemed happy, there wasn't a pervading sense of gloom in the place that I would have expected had her mother's death been imminent. So, like everyone else, I stayed upstairs and visited.

After about 1/2 hour or so of my arrival, a nurse came up from downstairs and said that the mother was close to passing and if we wanted to say our last goodbyes, now was the time. We filed downstairs and gathered around the bed where the mother lay. Her eyes were open and unblinking. There was absolutely no indication that she could hear us, and she certainly was unable to communicate with those in the room. Each of the four girls and their husbands/partners had gathered around the bed and took turns talking to their mother, telling her what a great mom she'd been, etc.

I couldn't deal with it and left the room and hadn't been out of the room but a few minutes, when the entire family came out of the room. It was over.

Maybe the girls had had a chance to prepare for the reality that was going to happen, but I'd been somewhat out of the loop once my ex and I had broken up. I never did come to any conclusion that she was going to die, even though the evidence was plain to see.

I'd never really be close to anyone who'd died before, so it hit me pretty hard. I walked upstairs to join the rest of the family and there on the walls were numerous pictures of the woman who had just died. Devastating.

The finality of death, is something that I've still never been able to grasp. Each time I go to a funeral or memorial service, the pictures of the deceased are the things I most struggle with. How can they be dead when I'm looking at all these pictures of them? I know it doesn't make much sense, but that's how I feel when I see them.

It's hard to believe 15 years have passed since that night. Unfortunately, there will be other nights like it in my future.

Reunited

My son and I are together again.

Unfortunately, to make this happen, we had to go to the funeral home yesterday to pick him up. Today is Thanksgiving and, not surprisingly, I'm not in much of a mood to get together with folks.

We will head North sometime over the long weekend to spread his ashes. I had so many plans for the things I wanted to do with him.

In no way could I have ever imagined this would be the outcome and, again, I am devastated by his loss.

Adolf didn't like jazz...

Who knew?

Sports in Seattle

I gotta say, up front, that I'm not a big sports fan. The whole meathead mentality, I just don't get (and don't want to get). You can keep all the Joe-Sixpack macho bullshit and leave me to my music, reading, or whatever else it is I do. You waste your weekends away watching someone else live out their fantasies, I've got a life to lead.

That said, I don't mind going to the occasional Mariners game. I love sitting out in the stands: the sun shining, a hot dog, a beer. The nice relaxed pace; sometimes wild and crazy, but generally nice and mellow. Baseball is certainly a lot more civilized than the knuckle-dragging, drunken behavior you get at a Seahawks game.

And don't get me wrong, I enjoy PLAYING sports (softball, golf, bowling), but to pay whatever it is they're charging for tickets these days... No thanks.

So, I won't mind coming out and admitting, I absolutely LOVE watching the Seahawks stinking it up from one end of the stadium to the other. Here, there, and everywhere... they suck! Huskies losing weekly? Love it. Nothing better than a bunch of meathead fratboys getting all drunk and depressed after another pathetic performanc on the grid iron.

Let's see: Seahawks are 2-9, Huskies are winless... I've got a smile on my face.

Texas Cops are Criminals

January, 1986.

Pecos County, Texas.

Speeding along I-10 in an RX-7, with my ex-girlfriend, through the middle of nowhere.

Literally. Nowhere. Speeding.

Nothing as far as the eye could see, except for the weeds growing in the median, obstructing my view of the Texas Rangers, who happened to be lurking on the other side of the highway. I didn't see them until I'd passed them (Oh, shit!), and looking up in my rearview mirror, I could see two cars crossing the median and coming my way. I immediately pulled over. I mean, where the hell was I going to hide? One car pulled up behind me and two pathetic, little rednecks got out. As we stood there, the other car passed, while one of the cops I was tied up with, gave his redneck brethren a macho "Yeah-we-got-'im" salute.

The two-foot-tall trooper with a 10-gallon hat asked me (verbatim), "Son, you see any reason to be goin' 80 miles an hour?" I wanted to tell him that between my desire to get out of the shithole that is Texas, and my distracted, getting-a-hand-job state of mind, I wasn't paying much attention to speed. Of course, remembering that discretion is the better part of valor, I made some lame excuse about being behind schedule, and was just looking to make up for lost time.

After looking at my drivers license and handing it back to me, he told me to follow him back into town. "Town" (and that would be a generous use of the word) consisted of a few shitty trailers, and the low, sun-baked municipal building that probably contained the police station, courthouse, jail, utilities departments, and town diner; all rolled into one, miserable hell hole.

As we walked into the building, he told me to wait in the lobby, while he went in to talk to the justice of the peace. He told me he would see if he could cut me a break, then disappeared from view. After about 15 minutes (I guess that's how long it took those guys to blow each other), he came back out to tell me my fine was $126. Hmmm... I wasn't ticketed, and I didn't appear before a representative of the judicial system; my fine just happened to be $126.

Now, I knew what game was being played. I also knew that unless I paid, then and there, I would be sitting in a shitty Texas jail until Monday morning, with the possible result not being any different than the offer I'd been presented. Was I going to call their bluff? Fuck no.

We went back out to the car, rounded up all the cash we could find (including change from the ashtray) to scrounge up the amount it would take to keep my hindquarters out of jail. Sure, we had a lot of money in traveller's checks (remember those?), but I sure as hell didn't want them to know that. Money in hand, I gave it to Officer Fuckstick, and was magically free to go. No ticket, no receipt, no "You sure got a pertty mouth" ass-fucking. I may be a lot of things, Ned Beatty I am not.

All-in-all, a fair trade.

Please do

We had to go to the funeral home this afternoon to take care of the final details, provide the funeral home with some information they needed and, of course, pay for everything.

We had hoped going into the meeting that it would be quick, business-like, and not emotionally upsetting. The entire meeting was 15 minutes. The gal who worked with us was professional, but not devoid of emotion. As we were getting up to leave, she said "We'll take good care of him."

A lump in the throat, a mist in the eye...

And they flowed...

Throughout the entire ordeal, I was stoic. No misty eyes, no quivering lips, nothing. I was a block of angry marble...

As we were getting ready to leave the hospital, one of the nurses who'd been working with us came in with a certificate of birth. It wasn't one of the typical state-issued birth certificates (those may be issued only for live births), but it had all the necessary information on it. As she sat it down on the roll-away table, I could see them there on the paper: two tiny footprints.

It is over

Amy went into final labor about 1:15, and by 1:45 it was all over. The doctor said the baby's umbilcal cord had slipped through the cervix and was compressed by it, ulitimately causing his death before delivery.

Amy is resting and I suspect we'll be discharged sometime in the morning.

Thank you for your thoughts, prayers, and support.

A & E: What's so Artful or Entertaining about Rape and Murder

As I sit here in the hospital with my wife, I've been twisting the dial on the remote, looking for something to watch while the wife rests.

It's only 3 pm, and I find the A&E network is rerunning shows from late this morning. Anyway, they are showing these crimes shows that, for the life of me, I can't figure out why they would show them on this network. Arts & Entertainment... Hmmm... I don't know: ballet, painting, music, theater... Sure, I'd expect to see that on this network, but this? No, I wouldn't expect to what they've been showing all day. Maybe the A&E part kicks in at night?

Closer than I'd wish

The doctor just left the room. After a quick exam, she said my wife is fully dilated and that we're probably not that far away. I know others have been through worse, but what a shitty thing to have to go through.

Here we are...

Ballard Swedish. Wife has been here since 10:30 am, yesterday. It turns out that the baby has an infection in the lining and has gone into labor. If the infection spreads to the mother, it would be a very serious thing, possibly resulting in the mother's death. The only way to prevent that is to induce labor. Unfortunately, the baby is only 20 weeks along and doesn't have the proper lung development that could sustain life.

A great deal of consultation was performed between our doctor and a perinatal (sp?) specialist. Though our condition is rare, the consensus is that there is nothing that can be done to save both the baby and the mother.

We stayed overnight, though I went home last night about 11:30 to get some things for today and to get some things to make the dogs comfortable in the car, where they were to stay overnight. I left early this morning for home to get the dogs fed. The wife called and suggested I take them to day care, which I did. I then returned to the hospital.

I expected today's events would transpire quicklyl, but it's just now noon, and they've just give the wife another IV in her other hand, into which they gave her a relaxant and pain medication. So far, there haven't been strong contractions, but I suspect that in the not-too-distant future they will give her something to start them.

They've asked us if we want to see the baby after he's born, if we want to bury him or have him cremated, do we want to see him after he's died. How do you answer any of those questions?

We've had a chaplain come to our room twice now; once yesterday, once this morning. Instead of being supportive, it seems more intrusive and I resent her presence. She says all the cliched things I expect someone of faith to say and it seems insincere to me (whether or not it is, I can't know).

We're in a birthing room where, normally, the occasion would be one of joy, but there's nothing of the sort in this room today. The nurses continue to provide her with water in a bottle that proudly proclaims "Born in Ballard". Maybe, for some, but not for us.

I don't have any timeline for what the rest of the day will look like, but I'm not looking forward to what I expect we'll be experiencing.

Veterans Day 2008

Another Veterans Day has come and gone. More than the religious holidays, the holidays that commemorate our country's history seem more significant to me. We have a lot to be thankful for (ironically, we'll have a day later this month to do just that), and much of that is due to the sacrifices made by millions of U.S. veterans (both living and dead).

I'm not much of a flag-waver, but I appreciate that many young men have died over the course of this country's history. It's sad to think of the futures they never got to live or, in the case of the severely wounded, the futures that didn't turn out like they might have wished or hoped for.

You also have to give a nod to the parents of the boys who went to war and never returned. I can only imagine what their pain must have been like, and hope to never experience that pain for myself.

Kick-Ass Gift!

Picked up the wife from the airport this morning. On the way home we stopped off for breakfast at a place we used to frequent, but haven't been to in years. I was reminded why we don't go out of our way to eat there.

After getting home and lugging the suitcases upstairs (that must be why it's called luggage), the wife was pretty wiped out and went to bed.

She just woke up a few minutes ago. After getting out of bed, she opened up one of her suitcases, and pulled out a smallish, cardboard box and handed it to me.

I had no idea what she might have found that I would like, but I was intrigued. Upon opening it, I found a beautiful Starbucks coffee mug, which is part of the Collector Series line (i.e., go to Italy: get a Rome mug).

We have several of these from other locations, a couple from Hawaii, one from London, and they all have a very similar appearance: white mug with a green design and bold, black lettering. The new mug is an altogether different beast: it's a light cream color, and on one side is a sepia Chinese dragon design, with deep red accents; the other side shows a mountain scene in the same red color with sepia clouds spanning the peaks. The mug's interior is the same deep red color. Not surprisingly, the mug is made in, of all places, China.

This mug is too beautiful to use.

Liar! Cheat! Psst... Hey, can you show me how to do that?

There's a 22-year-old kid out of Illinois who's shot 5 hole-in-ones in the last week. As if that's not strange enough, not one of those has come on a par 3. How does one sink a hole-in-one on a par 4, let alone on a par 5? Either those are the shortest 4s and 5s in the country, or this guy hits like a gorilla.

Regardless, what are the chances that your ball is so well hit that it's on-line for the pin AND has just enough speed/momentum to drop into the cup? Mighty slim, indeed.

The White Man Will Want His Civil Rights...

A recent MSNBC article mentions that in Obama's first press conference, he made a passing reference to his race and described himself as a "mutt". Some say that his off-hand reference to his racial background could indicate that he may take on some of the bigger racial issues that confront America today. There has never been a president more qualified to discuss race than this one. That's a good thing.

Another item mentioned is the reality that, in the not-too-distant future (estimated 2042), the White man will be a minority in this country. For as long as Whites oppressed the blacks (and all other racial minorities), the tide will soon turn. I wonder, then, how much Whites will be bitching about their rights as a minority, and how badly they will wanted to be treated with the dignity and respect they feel they are entitled. My, how the worm has turned...

It stands to reason that with the changes in the racial make up of this country, in that not-too-distant future, many of our politicians will look more like a Barack, a Juan, or Ichiro, than they will that pasty-faced loser, GWB. Good.

While I will be a geezer in 2042 (assuming I live that long), it will be interesting to see if the white minority feels oppressed and, in their righteous indignation, demand to be treated like equal citizens under the law.

We shall see.

Take that!

I collect year books, mostly from one school. Ironically, it's not even a school I attended.

I find most of them through eBay and have done a decent job finding them over the years. It used to be that I was usually the only person bidding on these books, however, over the last year or so, I've developed some competition, and another person is frequently bidding against me for these yearbooks. Just last week I was outbid in the last few seconds of an auction, depriving me of the chance of a nice 1957 yearbook. That really pissed me off. The only consolation I got from that was knowing that I greatly inflated the cost of the item toward the end of the auction (but the sting of losing still hurts).

Another auction came up last week for a school lapel pin; class of '39. I watched the bid for days and there was no activity on it. This morning, I took the dogs to the off-leash dog park, and planned to come straight home and make a bid. When I got home and checked on the auction, I found that the scumbug I've been competing against placed a bid about an hour before auction's end.

Given how badly I was scammed on the last auction, I was not going to be denied. I waited until there was less than 30 seconds and put in a rather sizeable bid. Thankfully, it was larger than the other person's highest bid, and there wasn't enough time to put in a final bid , as they'd done on the previous auction. Ha! Ha! The lapel pin is mine!

What the hell am I going to do with a lapel pin?

I hate Gene Simmons

I used to think Gene Simmons was the shit. Seriously, I thought he was the baddest thing alive. Then I grew up and realized he was nothing more than a two-bit huckster, selling anything and everything with the KISS logo on it. There's even a KISS Kasket. Don't believe me?

I was perusing the vids on MSNBC yesterday, when I saw a thumbnail showing that jackass on the set of Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader? He's also got his own show that's nothing more than a cheap rip-off of the Ozzy Osbourne family "reality" show, Meet the Osbournes.

This is all pretty old news, but I'm sitting here looking for some tennis shoes and I surf on out to the Vans website. What is the first thing staring me in the face? I'll be damned if it's not a pair of KISS high tops.
















I have to guess that most fans of the band have got to be in their 40s by now. What middle-aged doofus is going to spend $65 for the privilege of looking like the oldest geek on the block? Not I.

As the years have passed and interest in the band waned, it seems the other members of KISS (original or otherwise) have adjusted nicely to their life outside the limelight. They obviously have other things in their life that have replaced KISS (or the compulsive need for attention). It's sad that Gene doesn't have anything else going on in his life, apart from this one thing. Trying to drum up demand when said demand has long since dried up, is really quite pathetic.

The idea of this clown hawking his wares at 80 is not terribly appealing, and at this rate, he'll be eventually become Rock's answer to Hugh Hefner. Simmons has become a buffoon, but he's so in love with himself, he can't see it.

Gene, get a life.

Please.

And baby makes three

So, I made a short announcement on another blog that we're expecting a baby. I will probably use this site to make future announcements, post pictures, etc.

Still can't believe we're having a kid (boy), but I'm pretty excited about it. He's due at the end of March. Name: TBD...

The wife comes home tomorrow

My wife has been in Beijing and Singapore on business. Her plane gets in at 6:30 tomorrow morning (could they have picked a more inopportune time?), so I've got some cleaning up to do around the house today. It's not too bad, but could certainly use a "freshening up".

We (that would be the dogs and I) can't wait to have her home.

Test

Just testing the posting features...