Scanners supported under OS X
We need a better scanner by the middle of next month.
Moto 551 Confirmed.
It’s official; I’m upgrading OSX and my phone as soon as I get paid.
iTunes/MP3 volume adjustment
I always thot it was a lossy process. Hmmm…
43 Folders
General hacks with an OSX bent. I don’t know why I didn’t find this before today.
Sharing 1 music library with 2 iTunes clients
Mostly common sense, but file under “good checklist.”
Mac OS Firewall Primer
Includes some good UNIX info and shell scripts.
I want this BAD. It’s way too much money, and it’s so perfect for my everyday life, but I can’t justify it (I’d rather have a year-old refurbished TiBook instead.) More info over at Gizmodo.
Tireder Than I Used To Be. Our linen closet is moving closer towards completion, and small things around the house are getting done. The cabinet still needs shelves, the access door needs to be cut down and hung, and the kickplates need to be painted. That’s all fine, and I can accomplish that. Last night, though, I had a bit of a meltdown at 11pm trying to patch part of the dining room wall. During the upstairs renovation I had to pull the kickplate in order to run cable, and as with any plaster and lathe house (especially one as poorly plastered as ours) some of the wall comes out as well. While trying to pull out some of the ring shank nails left over from the crappy paneling job, I yanked six inches of plaster off the wall. By that point, my knees and legs were sore, my patience was gone, and I was running on determination. After sending the hammer on a little trip and banging the paint cans closed, I sat on the couch and shut my brain off in front of The Family Guy. It was the first time since we moved into the house where I felt defeated by it, like it had actually called me out in the playground at lunchtime and kicked the snot out of me in front of the whole third grade.
Of course, being the stubborn Mick that I am, I’m ready to go back at it this evening, but last night was the first time the sheer size of the house got to me. We have about ten open projects right now, all in various states of completion (or not, as the case may be) which await things beyond our control: warm weather, completion of another project, the Bag of Money, etc. and the disarray is getting to both of us a lot more than I thought it was.
I went to a clients’ house last night to install an AirPort card in both an eMac and a slot-loading iMac, thinking the whole thing would be cut and dry. I was supposed to be there Tuesday, but the negative battery terminal in the Jeep decided it was time to rot itself into oblivion that evening in the parking lot of the Panera, stranding me in front of my dinner and the Classified section of the Sun. More on that later.
As it turns out, the iMac is AirPort-ready but needs an additional $29 adapter to use the wireless card. Strike one. The eMac has a handy door on the front where you remove a bezel with two screws and slide the card in. Easy, right? Well, no, not really. For some reason the card just wouldn’t fit in all the way, and no amount of pushing and prodding would help. Normally breaking down the case to guide it in would be easy, but Apple built it with allen-head bolts to keep schoolkids from taking it apart, and I didn’t have my set with me. Strike two.
Song Of The Day: Don’t Get Your Hopes Up, Dntel. Fitting, perhaps, because I’m looking at a VW Thing for sale tonight in Pasadena, which I found in the aforementioned paper. For some reason, I’m in look-at-used-cars-mode right now. I think it’s partially because the Scout is on life-support mode and I’d like to have a running convertible before springtime next year, and partially because I’m a stupid dumbass who feels the need to spend money he doesn’t have. One bright spot: whereas a new fiberglas door on the Scout would cost somewhere around $850, a new steel door for a Thing lists for $40. (Hell, a new VW engine lists for $1300.)
Heh, heh. Sorry, Yankees fans.
Friday morning we woke early to get packed and ready for our California trip. I had an appointment with an alarm company to estimate the house after a second break-in at our neighbor’s house; for considerably less than I thought, we’re having the place wired next Tuesday, with the option of adding smoke alarms later. We hopped an American flight to Dallas and made it out to San Francisco by dinnertime, pulling up to the curb out front of the hotel just in time to meet Rob and Karean, who were getting back from a long day in the city. Opting for room service instead of fighting for a reservation outside, we hit the rack early in preparation for drinking with the professionals over the weekend.
Saturday we met up with the other two Baltimore couples and got breakfast across the street, then roamed out in the direction of Chinatown. On our own, Jen and I stumbled across a neighborhood parade complete with dragons, band, and politicians, and not long after that, a funeral procession led by a brass band, New Orleans-style. Walking the length of the area brought us to the famous City Lights bookstore, where we picked up two good design books, and then walked back to meet up with Rob and Karean. Stopping in to the Paul Frank store, we got our monkey on, and then at a Ghirardelli store we got our chocolate on. Then it was back to the hotel to get gussied up for the party.
After a hilly ride out to the Log Cabin, we found a tuxedoed Matt greeting guests and an open bar, making this the first time I’ve sipped wine during the ceremony, which was not a bad way to start. Vows were exchanged, songs were sung, and two of my oldest friends from college were married. Then, there was drinking, dancing, eating, drinking, drinking, and suddenly we were waiting for cabs to the after-party. And waiting, and waiting… My intelligent wife suggested waiting close to the road to be the first foursome picked up, and her intellect paid off—but by then it was too late to party further, and we decided to retire to our hotel bar for a quiet nightcap of cucumber martinis.
Sunday began with breakfast at the hotel restaurant, and continued with a trip to the Exploratorium, a huge science center devoted to hands-on learning for kids and adults. What started out as a fantastic time slowly became overload as the sheer number of exhibits overwhelmed our pickled brains. I left with a headache, and we all decided some hair of the dog was in order, so we got some drinks at the swanky bar across from the hotel and recuperated. Then it was off to the after-wedding barbecue, where Matt and Soph get the award for Thing I’d Never Do The Day After My Wedding: cooking a pile of food for their out-of-town friends. We hung out at their house in the Castro, caught up with everybody, and had a mellow evening before catching a cab back to the hotel to grab some sleep—our shuttle to the airport pulled up at 5:15am.
Leaving San Francisco was hard—not only are a bunch of good people out there, but the city left us feeling energized, cosmopolitan, creative, and recharged. There are a number of differences between S-F and D.C. (I’m not going to mention Baltimore, because it just doesn’t compare) with the greatest one being the respect for history. San Francisco is dripping with old signage, restored houses, and design, while much of the East coast is homogenized. It was hard to leave that funky mixture to come back to McBaltimore.
Hey, I should elaborate a little, lest you think I’m another hater: One of my first loves is the goofy, off-the-wall history of Baltimore, its blue-collar roots, and the hometown vibe it still has. Most people don’t notice these things, or would rather drink a Coors Light at the bar in an Applebee’s rather than brave the smoke at Mrs. Bonnie’s Elvis Shrine, but I love Baltimore for its quirky treasures. There’s just such an international, electric feel to San Francisco that it’s hard to come home.
Success. After buying capacitors locally that were much too big, I ordered some different ones online and got them in yesterday. A little practice with the soldering iron, some delicate work, and…nothing. The Base Station would not wake up. I brought it to work this morning, followed some better directions, and got it to reset, then uploaded new software. It’s now working like a charm next to my desk. Update: The Base Station dropped out after 45 minutes—same problem as before—the case was hot to the touch and the network died. I have more research and testing to do.
I’m not sure who “won” the VP debate last night. It’s pretty obvious who actually runs the country, and that Dr. Evil Cheney is an extremely intelligent man. I thought Edwards came off a little too cloying and anxious, while the VP was more reserved, informed, and deadly with his attacks—he got in a few very quiet, very deadly jabs, where Edwards swung more wildly and with less skill. I have to say, I’d be afraid to go up against the VP in a debate, especially since his dark minions sent him in with at least two pages of very damaging accusations and falsehoods against Edwards which he used with great skill. He’s a mean SOB. One thing’s for sure— it’s going to put the next Presidential debate in stark contrast, especially if Kerry gets Shrub on the ropes like he did last week. (There was one minor blunder the VP made, which is hilarious…)
Repairs. For the low, low price of $20, I picked up the parts I need to do surgery on my Airport Base Station last night. (Disclosure: I had to spend $10 for a new soldering iron.) This week is way too busy, but next week I’m going to crack the case and see if I can’t revive the dead. BTW, my experiences setting up a client’s Airport Express were nothing but excellent. Without configuring buttons, setting jumpers, or invoking the Seven Holy Names Of Satan, I was able to get their wireless network set up, sharing a USB printer, and locked down to intruders in about five minutes. No kidding.