The Christmas cards are officially in the mail. Thank God. Also, BG&E stopped by this morning to finish the wiring in our basement. Since moving in the house we’ve had a huge live 220-volt line sticking out into the basement from the panel at the foot of the stairs. Now it’s gone and the meter is sitting outside on the back of the house. Whoopee!
Small World Dept. The couple I was playing pool with at Jason’s party on Saturday night left there to go visit a “friend who owned a restaurant”; it turns out they drove down to the Chameleon Cafe and ran into Todd and Heather. So that makes it only the second time in three weeks that we’ve shared a “this-town-is-too-damn-small” experience. (Apparently I resemble the guy from “Scrubs”. If I had a quarter…)
Interesting Random Stuff Dept. Linda sent along the link to Pink Five. Thanks! (you’ll need RealPlayer or WMP to watch.) There’s a little bit of anger over at Vent. And everybody should take a look at Pitchfork’s recap of the top albums of the 90’s. That is all.
Today our good friend Dave braved the weather in Clifford (the big red truck) to help me haul three months’ worth of debris from the garage. All the plaster, lathe, carpeting, foam, and shelving we’ve torn out fit snugly in the back of the truck, and then we hooked him up with a ton of new music on his iPod. The afternoon involved finishing off our Christmas cards—signing, addressing, and sealing all 80+ of them. Big fun.
2. Jen and I have been in this house since August, and we’ve had roaring fires going many times in the fireplace. We’ve learned that the best way to keep a fire going without a damper was to close the glass insert doors to a sliver to get the updraft from the house whooshing past the logs. It makes for a ripping good fire, even if it burns all the wood in three minutes flat. Saturday morning the chimney guys came out to look at the damper, and gave us some bad news: the furnace shares the flue with the fireplace, which means that having the glass doors open is very bad—carbon monoxide could shoot back down the chimney and kill us while we watch West Wing reruns. So, no fires for us anymore.
3. The company Christmas party was good this year. Jen ducked out to get her shopping done, so I went stag to McCaffrey’s and sat at a table with my boss, my old producer, and my cube-neighbor. We had a very good time by ourselves, and when the party finished up we drove over to our CEO’s condo in Roland Park to finish off the rest of the wine. Overall, the mood this year was festive, compared to last year’s understated party—the promise of much work and a healthy company brightened the evening.
Afterwards, I drove north to my friend and old business partner’s house for their annual holiday party, which was a good time. Playing pool and catching up were good fun, even if the upstairs was stocked with some dull folks. (Really, who goes to a party to sit on the couch and watch The Wizard Of Oz? Live a little, people.)
4. Jen and I decided that the best way to celebrate Friday was to leave the house and find some good Mexican food. We drove out Rt. 40 to Señor Toucan’s, a Mexican/Latin restaurant decorated in high schmaltz. Fortunately, there were two mariachis inside warming up, and they serenaded the dining room during our meal. Three margaritas and some killer mole later, we were ready to hire them for our wedding—even though the theme is supposed to be Savannah southern.
5. They found Saddam! He was in a hole and looked like shit! Hope you like that jail cell, pal.
Jen and I have a few rituals in our new house together. Some of them date back to our pre-cohabitation days, and some of them are new. One of the oldest ones we have is Sushi Day, where we drive to our favorite sushi restaurant (which happens to be just over the river and through the woods in Ellicott City) and get the same basic stuff each time: two cups of miso soup, one order of edamame, the spicy tuna roll, the spicy california roll, and the Japanese lasagna (supplanting the kabuki roll, which was a little large for one bite, and made you look like Godzilla eating a passenger train.) Jen had a crappy day at work yesterday so we braved the pea-soup fog, got our sushi and two six-packs, nestled up to some Queer Eye, and enjoyed the feast. This morning, though, my head still kinda hurts.
Muha-hah-hah-hah Dept. I just got, in a morning of pure serendipity, two presents for Jen accomplished with little or no fuss (knock on wood.) I don’t think she’s going to see these coming, but they’re good’uns. (Hi, Jen!)
This Is Funny. 8:45AM – I’m sitting out in front of a client’s office on North Charles Street and surfing the web via somebody else’s unsecured WiFi hotspot. pretty good connectivity, too. Let that be a lesson to you—lock your hotspots down, people.
Now, who wouldn’t want to buy and live in a surplus 727 jet airliner? In Smyrna Tennessee, no less?
Whoops. Over the last few months, I’ve been enjoying the proximity and collection of the Catonsville Library. It’s right down the street, it’s well lighted, well staffed, and well stocked with current titles. In addition to the books, there’s a large DVD and CD collection available, and I’ve been, uh, sampling the CD collection quite often. Each CD is enclosed with a big plastic anti-theft clip which you have to have the librarians remove for you. As with any well-worn book, some of the CD’s are in less-than-perfect shape, and often the jewelboxes are pretty beat up. Sometimes you have to make an educated guess as to what title is actually inside the case. Why and I telling you this? Please look at the diagram below and try to understand why I would actually check out a Barbra Streisand CD from the library, thinking it was Bob Dylan.
Goodbye, Old Friends. About a year ago, I made a rule about buying any new computer hardware for the house: I wasn’t going to support any Mac with a SCSI hard drive, ADB ports, or lacking at least a USB port. With the recent influx of iMacs in our house, I’ve been looking at the old 8500 on the porch and thinking that it needs to be donated, and I also still have the 7100 here at the office with no purpose in mind. Today I’m going to archive the contents of each, wipe the drives, and get them ready to donate.
Max has taken delivery of his iMac, which means I have X-mas money to use for presents. To quote the wise Hannibal from the A-Team: “I love it when a plan comes together.”
Looks like we have tentative plans to meet with two of the previous occupants of our house; when we sat with them to sign the contract on the house they asked if they could stop by and take some clippings from the huge holly tree in the front yard, which we obviously agreed to. We’re going to get the house gussied up and have them over for an afternoon. Hopefully we can learn a lot more about the place from them when we do.
All the music I’ve burned, catalogued, organized, and rated to date is on the iPod. I’m listening to a song thru the headphones on my Powerbook with the iPod plugged in—I feel like this thing is finally working the way I had imagined. Now to build some powerful playlists and finish the last few ratings…
Speaking of music, here’s an absolutely brilliant use of Flash for a music website: John Coltrane. Good work, guys.
One Down. In other news, I’ve got my Mom’s X-mas gift here; I think she’s going to be thrilled with this. (Hi, Mom!) Now to get Renie done and finish up Jen’s presents. Thankfully, Dad was the easiest one this year- thanks to Renie’s idea. And a great idea it is. (Hi, Dad!) Usually, buying something for my Dad is next to impossible, as is my Mom—my Dad is a lot like me in that his hobbies are very specific and only he really knows exactly what he wants, which makes any surprise difficult. Mom has just about everything, so buying for her is usually impossible as well. This year Renie presents the biggest challenge, which is a real shocker.
Two Down… Well, they convicted this guy a few weeks ago, and they got this guy last night; let’s hope they get this kid too. It’s about time the criminal justice system started working in high-profile cases. Janklow should have admitted he was wrong, stepped down, and taken responsibility for his actions. Nice to see that a U.S. Congressman tried to weasel out of a manslaughter conviction by claiming he was diabetic. Good riddance.
Snowfall, 12.7.03
In the parking lot of my office building this afternoon: a beautiful half-cab Scout—as beautiful as the half-cab can be—a 1980 (the only year they galvanized the steel and Zeibarted at the factory) diesel with a Meyer plow, with nary a dent or spot of rust. Sweet.
Get Out Of The Way. People in Baltimore just don’t get it about the snow. For the love of God, people, just drive. Don’t slow down to stare at that guy on the side of the road—he’s just pulled over to make a call, not because he’s bleeding from an axe wound. I have to get to work before noon, for cripes’ sake.
→ This is a syndicated post from my Scout weblog. More info here.
We have made it through the other side of the first blizzard in this house with no injuries or disasters. Saturday morning we went outside to help our neighbor and his wife dig their car out of the snow (he’s the one who had a pacemeker put in three weeks ago.) They took off to run errands and came back to give us some heavenly coffee cake from Sugarbaker’s down the street. The rest of the day was spent in pursuit of leisure. At 8, Redux came on Bravo and we wound up sitting through that whole thing until midnight—it was interesting to see the new footage, but I can’t say it added anything to the movie that needed to be there. I highly recommend Hearts Of Darkness, the documentary made with footage shot by Coppola’s wife during the filming, as it contains a ton of fascinating behind the scenes stuff that is alternately heartbreaking and hysterical.
(The Angels Wanna Wear My.) We drove up to the Towson mall this afternoon to get out of the house and do a little shopping. One of the first places we hit was the Apple Store, where I asked about the blue iMac. From what it sounds like, the video board is fried—a $300 repair. Yikes! We then ventured over to the Nordstrom Rack where Jen found a dress and I found a pair of red retro sneakers. I’ve always wanted a pair of cool red shoes, and I’ve got them now for the low price of $27.
Grandma’s Hands. Two things reminded me of my late grandparents this weekend, and they both brought me a smile. Jen and I busted out our Christmas gear on Saturday and tried to make the place look festive. One of the things I’ve had for years is Rappin’ Santa, a little fabric covered Santa Claus who raps a tune when you clap your hands and dances in time to the beat:
Jingle rap, jingle rap
Jingle all the way[unintelligble]
In a onehorse open sleighHah!
Huh-hah, Jingle Rap!
Huh-hah, huh!
My Mom’s mom gave it to me before she passed on, and I never get sick of it.
The other thing that brought a smile to my face were the mittens I put on to shovel the walk on Saturday. They are green, a shade that doesn’t go well with anything I own, and made out of heavy synthetic wool. Every Christmas my gramma Dugan would have us all trace our hands on paper so that she could knit us mittens for the next year. The mittens I have were actually made for my Dad about twenty years ago, but they fit my hands perfectly. They’ve been with me for years and seen lesser machine-made mittens die, and I think of her every time I wear them.
The Baltimore area is socked in with snow, and due to short-sighted company policy Jen is at work. I’m here trying to diagnose a sick iMac and doing some freelance work. Tom & Jerry cartoons—that’s something that brings me back to days after elementary school with Channel 11 and a pile of Legos.
Proof There Is A Higher Lifeform Out There. Adam Goldberg in a new Comedy Central show about a Jewish vigilante doling out justice A-Team-style, called “The Hebrew Hammer.”
Proof That Some People Need Prescription Medication. Is this the most insane story ever? Unbelievable. I’ve always said that mayonnaise is the condiment of the devil.
Among other things we’re trying to get rid of, there are thirty bags of leaves out at the curb this morning that to be taken by the County before the snow hits us this evening. Also, our good buddy Dave is bringing Clifford the Big Red Truck by this saturday to haul the carpeting, plaster, wood and other debris from the garage so that i can pull the wall/door off the front and back the Scout inside. That’ll be a large weight off my shoulders, because she’s doing nothing but rusting in the driveway right now.
Hello Again. This spring I was lucky enough to travel to Bimini and dive on the reefs for seven days, courtesy of my employer. One of the guys that accompanied us on the trip was Craig, who is an outside consultant to the company and an experienced diver. I spent a lot of time underwater attempting to adjust my buoyancy, regulate my breathing, maintain a constant depth, and work the camera, under his watchful eye. (while I was floundering around with all of that crap, he was quietly hovering off to the side, effortlessly keeping his depth with controlled breathing, making sure we were all OK.) At dinner he quietly taught us diving skills we hadn’t learned in our classes, and helped to keep us focused on what we were doing.
One day we were returning from our mooring point and heading back into the wind on the dive boat, which was an open-deck cruiser. I had turned my hat around to keep it on my head, but a stray gust of wind blew it off my hat and into the water. (Now, anybody that knows me has seen my battered Syracuse Orangemen hat at one point or another; it’s been with me since my early college years and remains the only hat that correctly fits my big melon. I’m kind of attached to it.) Craig, without thinking, had our divemaster turn the boat back around, and before I could do it myself, dove in after it, yelling “WILSON!”
He stopped in the office this morning, and I only had a chance to say hello, but it was great to see him.
Technology, Part 2. The original 10GB drive in the red iMac is bollixed up pretty good; it’s making a horrendous ratcheting noise upon reboot and then dropping off the IDE chain altogether. I switched the drive with a pull from the first iMac and it booted fine, so that’ll stay in there. I’ll say this much: the original Rev A-B iMac’s case was a lot easier to crack than the Rev C’s.