July 20, 2005
Got grill?
I love Craigslist. Better than the classified ads, faster than eBay, and copious. I bought a Char Broil grill, looks like it's about two years old, cheap. Has a rotisserie, cover, bunch of tools, and a 2/3 full tank. Tomorrow, I grill!
I also found out that my big burly cat Biscuit lives in mortal terror of the ceiling fan. If the fan's on he skulks around like something's going to eat him, and if you turn the fan on while he's in the room you might as well light his tail on fire.
He's gonna love it when we put one in the dining room.
Posted by Lee at 09:44 PM | Comments (0)
July 17, 2005
Productive weekend...
Yesterday, B and I hung a new ceiling fan in our den. This fan is way less gross than the one that was in here before, which was wired in a rather, ah, clever way. The fan and the light were both drawing power through the dimmer switch, which was itself mis-wired. Now we've got rid of the goofy dimmer, and we're using a remote control switch mounted in the wall. Unlike the one I helped install at Tommy's, the switch isn't wired into the wall at all. So there's no reason I couldn't, say, mount it in a coffee table. Hmmm....
Today we cut some limbs that were too near our house and our fence. The little cordless electric chainsaw seems to work great. I won't be felling redwoods with it, but for cutting a few branches and breaking down the limbs, it works great. I managed to not die when I climbed up on the roof. Yay!
On another front, our little kitty Maggie seems to be feeling much better. We had some really, uh, exciting vet bills the last two weeks, and it's really nice to see that the care is working. Poor thing was feeling pretty rough, but she's definitely perking up more.
And now I know how to give a sub-cutaneous injection of lactated Ringer's solution. It's really kinda creepy: I put the needle in the scruff of her neck, and fill 'er up. It makes this big bubble of fluid between her shoulders, which then gets absorbed by her body. She doesn't like it very much, but it definitely helps her keep hydrated.
Oooh! AND my copy of Harry Potter book 6 came. Yay!
Posted by Lee at 03:52 PM | Comments (0)
July 03, 2005
Whee! More house stuff!
Well, we just sent our first houseguest home. OnoMatt just headed back to Canadia this afternoon. He's got some great pictures, like this one of Haystack Rock, and this one, of a ginormous dog who has apparently just eaten Haystack Rock.
After leaving Cannon Beach, we went to the Tillamook Creamery, and watched enormous piles of cheddar cheese be fabricated. We then ate squeakycheese (very fresh cheddar cheese curds) and ice cream. For dinner, we went to Corbett Fish House for the finest fish n' chips you're likely to find. Oh yeah, and some DEEP FRIED cheddar cheese curds. Yeah, we got our dairy on.
Today, we had breakfast, and Matt headed out around noon. We went to Home Depot and bought a pile of stuff, including a really super nifty tool kit (happy engagement to me!) and a pile of garden stuff. Then we went to the nursery (which, as I'm sure we will come to regret, is about a block from home) and bought a bunch o' herbs. And strawberries. And blueberries. And flowers. And a suet cake for the birdies.
This house thing is getting expensive. But it's worth it. The place is just beautiful.
Posted by Lee at 08:07 PM | Comments (0)
May 27, 2005
eeek! We're buyin' a house!
OK, so my intended and I are conflating our finances and buying a house together. Actually, she's buying the house and letting me hang out there. (This way, I can be a first-time homebuyer next time!)
Our offer has been accepted. Now we start the closing process. Excitement? Big.
Posted by Lee at 12:36 PM | Comments (0)
May 25, 2005
Welp. We put down an offer...
On a house today. S'pretty.
Now we gotta see what happens...
Posted by Lee at 09:47 PM | Comments (0)
May 21, 2005
OK, so I saw Episode III.
Now Barb and I are sittin' on the couch watching Episode IV.
(if you have to ask "Episode of what?", just don't bother asking, mmmkay?)
My overall impression was that Episode III was too busy. Wookies and droids and clones, oh my! We were rushing all over the galaxy, having battles, and rushing back to have intrigues and (really poorly written) schmoopy dialog between Anakin and Padme.
But there was good Jedi whupass, and the Climactic Fight Scene was pretty good, and Yoda was cool, and Anakin's turn to the dark side was better written than I feared it might be.
Overall, I'm not disappointed. I'd like to take a stab at all six flicks and see what I think.
OK, I'm out. I'm headed to Toschi Station to pick up some power converters.
Posted by Lee at 05:31 PM | Comments (0)
May 03, 2005
WHEEE! I'M BACK!
Bet y'all thought I forgot about ya. I sure forgot about me. No not really.So here's the thing. Tommy just got my web page set back up using Movable Type, because he's super cool. Now, I don't know a thing about MT, but fortunately I found a nifty app called MarsEdit that makes posting stuff real easy-like. I hope. If you read this, assume that it worked.
So, I'm now a full-time member of the proletariat, working at AAA fixin' computers. Apparently, when my name came up in a managers' meeting of all the branch folks from Oregon and Idaho over the weekend, there was a big ol' round of applause. I guess that means I'm doing good work, huh?
Things are goin' well with my ladytype. We're starting to look for new places to live. She just got a new iBook, so that means less PC support for Lee. Seems like six or seven people in my immediate circle have just gotten Macs. Looks like Apple is doin' something right!
My folks are in France. My sis is workin' on weighing anchors. R&S are about to reproduce. And life is good.
And hopefully I'll talk about it more here, now that my site works. Go Tommy!
Posted by Lee at 07:07 AM
September 20, 2004
Where's MY museum?
I'm listening to coverage on NPR on tomorrow's opening of the Smithsonian Institution's new museum dedicated to the American Indians. Cool, right? I want to know when I get my museum.
Lemme back up.
The people speaking on Talk of the Nation were Native American advocates, each with a different story about how us white folk have been hating and oppressing them. I was particularly affected by one twenty year old American Indian/Hispanic woman who had trouble fitting in at school, both on and off the Res. She's now a student at Stanford, so she apparently did something right.
She talked about how people called her "Pocahontas" and asked her if she lived in a teepee. (tipi? Whatever. Depends on your Americanization-of-the-week spelling conventions) Well, I got made fun of at school too. I got my ass kicked regularly by a black guy (one of the only ones on my bus) who would stalk me, corner me, and menace me on a daily basis. The other (white) kids on the bus made fun of me (in rough order of frequency) because I had red hair, blue eyes, was overweight, and didn't like football, soccer, baseball, or any other "cool" team sport.
So where's my museum? Forget that, where's my scholarship to Stanford?
I'll answer my own question. There is nothing more cruel than a bunch of kids in middle school. I'd rather take my chances with Iraqi insurgents than the snakes I had to go to school with (and I went to a rich white kid school in suburbia). Kids are hideously mean to anybody who they percieve as different, and believe me: NOBODY is better at telling you that you are different than a middle school child. Talk about projecting ego issues onto others...
Sometimes I wonder if my kids will be outsiders like that. I wonder if they're going to be mean to other kids. I wonder if ANY kid is ever not an outsider. I think that right there is the fundamental challenge of parenting (and citizenship). How do you tell a kid that it's OK for other people to be different? How do you teach that kid that they need to love that person, even if they hate you? How do you teach a kid that, at the end of the day, the things that make us the same are far, far bigger and more important than the things that make us different?
I'll let you broaden that point to world citizenship.
I have much the same feeling when I talk to people who have strong opinions on feminism. (Yeah, here we go...now I'm stepping on some toes.)
Now, let's put the knee-jerk reactions on hold. I like women. Frankly, I identify more with the average woman than with the average man. I like women a LOT.
This weekend, Barb is going on a womens' retreat with her church group. She's going to go talk girl talk with her surrogate family. Sounds great, huh?
Why does it have to be women only? I know that women often feel like they have a unique perspective on their lives. I know that women feel like they've got problems that are unique, and like to talk about them with like-minded people. Fair enough.
But what happens when that gender identification doesn't map onto somebody's life experience? Where does a guy (like me) who doesn't like football and other "guy stuff" fit in? Can't go hang with the women, because I'm a guy. Can't go hang with the guys, because I don't give a crap about golf or football or whatever.
(This is a loaded question. I know exactly where I fit in: I fit in with a group of hyper-smart, cosmopolitan people who come from a lot of different life experiences. They're men, and women, and black, and white, and Asian, and Middle Eastern, and whatever. NONE of the superficial differences between these humans are even slightly relevant to my experience of them.)
It's hard for me to feel like I owe women something because I'm a white guy. I owe women what I owe every human being: Respect, consideration, and honor. I don't owe them money because white guys make more money than women do. I don't owe them consideration because women only got the vote 90 years ago (or so, I've slept since that history lesson). I don't owe any group any thing, because I am not responsible for any of the societal problems that white men are apparently responsible for. Any policy that takes from me and gives to them (for any value of "them", just for fun the same argument works for the idea of slavery reparations) is unjust.
Does that make me a sexist?
Sometimes I wish I was a member of some sort of "historically underutilized" or "disadvantaged" group. It would have been a hell of a lot easier to get my degree (which so far has totally failed to get me gainful employment. Yay American dream!). Maybe if I weren't a white guy from a middle class upbringing, I would have had somebody out there looking out for me. I'd have had somebody who could give me a hand up. Because, let me tell you, I wasn't exactly taking phone calls from The Man. Whitey sure didn't help me one little bit, and the Patrimony sure wasn't returning my calls.
I got where I am today because I have family that love me, friends that support me, and enough brains to pass some standardized tests. I am incredibly grateful to be in that position, but I don't think it's particularly unique to me. It's certainly not a function of me being white or male.
Of course, where I am today is "unemployed", so maybe this is a cautionary tale in its own right.
This sounds like hatin', doesn't it? Me, I love the Smithsonian Institution. I love learning about other people, learning their stories, learning their food, and (most importantly) realizing yet again that they are Just Like Me. This doesn't surprise me anymore. At the end of the day, I don't think I deserve a museum. I don't think there's anything special about my experience, or the experience of red-headed non-athletic intellectual men. Guess that's why I don't have a museum.
But isn't my story a worthy one? Do I get a voice? Who speaks for me?
Nobody?
Guess I'll do it for myself. Why don't you do the same?
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AUTHOR: God
TITLE: What a great book!
DATE: 09/21/2004 08:18:18
PRIMARY CATEGORY: Nonspecific Musings
STATUS: publish
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I love Bruce Sterling. I just finished Zenith Angle, which is about a fictional cyber-war that happened immediately after September 11, 2001. I enjoyed it so much, I stayed up all night reading it, and now Barb's alarm clock is going off. The last book I spent all night reading was If Chins Could Kill, which was also written by somebody named Bruce. Weird.
I'm not saying this was my favourite passage in any book ever, but it's awfully close.
Van felt a strange respect for them, [...] for the amazing Cold War rocket state of his grandfather's generation. A lost empire of truly macho engineering, where America's best tech guys just sort of rolled up their sleeves, lit an unfiltered Camel, and detonated hydrogen bombs.
Word!
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AUTHOR: God
TITLE: I like riding the bus.
DATE: 10/20/2004 01:24:17
PRIMARY CATEGORY: Nonspecific Musings
STATUS: publish
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I like riding the bus.
I like giving the other riders I see every day names in my head.
It's weird when you get on the bus and see all the same people you saw the morning before.
It's weirder when you catch the same bus you did yesterday, only all the people are complete strangers.
I like the zippy flippy sound that the signs on the side of the bus make when you sit right under them.
I like going across the Ross Island Bridge at sunset.
I like riding the bus.
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AUTHOR: God
TITLE: Don't get run over by trains.
DATE: 10/25/2004 00:22:29
PRIMARY CATEGORY: Nonspecific Musings
STATUS: publish
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In Willamette Weekly (like the Dallas Observer or Austin Chronicle for you Texas-bound folks) there was a quarter page ad reminding people not to step in front of the light rail train.
Yeah. I'll make a note of that on my Palm Pilot.
Now, I understand that people get killed by trains. You have large objects moving rapidly through places where there are pedestrians, there are bound to be mishaps. What I'm trying to understand is the demographic target: Who exactly is the audience here? I mean, are there really people who see that ad and say, "Well GOL-LY! I guess I'm going to be a little more careful around train tracks! I didn't know them huge metal things was dangerous..." I mean, if you can read, I'd think you've got enough of a grip on causality to make you avoid large fast-moving objects.
In other news, Barb and I found the COOLEST cocktail set on God's green earth in a little antique shop. It was totally serendipity...we just ducked into this store to avoid a torrential deluge (the first one I've seen up here in "rainy" Portland) and found a beautiful, CHEAP, chrome cocktail shaker, sweet corkscrew, and a nifty bottle opener all in this cool art deco-y stand. It is teh awesome.
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AUTHOR: God
TITLE: Been a while, huh?
DATE: 01/10/2005 00:55:15
PRIMARY CATEGORY: Nonspecific Musings
STATUS: publish
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Remember me?
There was Thanksgiving. We went to Oroville. It was good. My family rules. Then there was Barb's graduation. We celebrated with her fam. Then we celebrated Christmas, with her fam. That was all good. I like family Christmases, and I'm glad that none of the weird stressful junk was much of an issue.
I got some cool stuff for Christmas.
1) TiVo. I had no idea how broken TV was until using it.
2) 20th Anniversary Optimus Prime. w00t.
3) Some seriously awesome cutlery and knife lessons.
Much other cool stuff too: That's just some highlights.
So what's new? Well, my security clearance was granted. I found out on Friday that it had been re-examined, and granted on September 10, 2004. So...they've just been sitting on it for four months. I'm proud of the fact that my head isn't spinning around furiously. I'm getting back in touch with my Raytheon contacts to see if I can put anything back together.
Oh yeah, and H is knitting me a seriously cool scarf. It's made from alpaca, which is fun to say.
Oh oh yeah yeah, and Barb and I are considering getting some kitties. I've always wanted kitties. I think it's about darn time I had some.
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AUTHOR: God
TITLE: Lego+Anime=Goodness
DATE: 10/14/2001 01:07:21
PRIMARY CATEGORY: Stuff I Want To Buy
STATUS: publish
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Sunday, October 14, 2001
You know, I think I need to move to Japan. Japan gets all sorts of cool electronic gizmos way before we do. They also have GREAT TV, and I must confess that I'm a bit of an anime fanboy. Not a really scary one, mind, but I am predisposed to enjoying Japanese animated programming.
I also love giant robots. Especially ones that transform.
Now, on the other side of the pond, LEGO just rocks. I've played with LEGO pretty much since I discovered my opposable thumb. I have a Mindstorms kit that I've not been able to spend enough time with, but it's still one of the greatest toys ever. The guy who built a robot that will solve a Rubik's cube out of LEGO is my new hero.
So, Japanese robots and LEGO. Never the twain shall meet, right?
For those that don't read Japanese (that set includes me) and are not familiar with Japanese pop culture (that set does not include me), I'll give you a rundown of the available sets. Like you care.
Neon Genesis Evangelion (currently my favourite Japanese cartoon. Come on, Cartoon Network! Bring it to the US!)
Devilman (haven't seen it, but I want to. Prototype cool Japanese anime.)
Planet of the Apes (Yes, that one's in English, but for completeness' sake...)
VOTOMS (One of the few giant robot animes I haven't seen. I need to.)
Mazinger Z (came to the US as Tranzor Z while I was little. It was cool then, and it's cool now.)
Special Force (Police special forces. Think Jackie Chan cop movies.)
Astroboy. (Another one I haven't seen)
Disney Characters (I hate to say it, but these are kinda creepy)
TRON (LEGO lightcycles. Wow.)
Five Pages of Miscellany (includes figures from Blair Witch Project, Bruce Lee, Kellogg's, and, um, Queen Kong)
OK, so Queen Kong was kinda wrong. I'm faintly afraid of a culture that produces figurines of busty plastic monkeys. Then again, we have Jerry Springer, so I guess we can't talk.
Speaking of cool giant transforming robots, this is right at the top of my Christmas list. Or Gundams are always cool, too.
Yes, I'm a geek. I'm OK with that.
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AUTHOR: God
TITLE: OMG! KITTIES!
DATE: 01/22/2005 23:41:47
PRIMARY CATEGORY: Stuff I Want To Buy
STATUS: publish
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YAAAAAAAAAY!
OK, for 25 years, I've known I was a Cat Person. However, for a variety of reasons, I've never been in a living situation where I could properly care for a cat.
Until now.
Barb and I adopted two adult cats from the shelter today. One is a four year old boy cat, ten pounds or so. They called him Pooh Bear at the shelter, but I think his name is really Biscuit. He's a tawny golden-blondey light orange buff color. (Kinda like the leopard was before the Ethiopian put all the spots on him. Or a biscuit.) And he flopped down on the couch between Barb and me while we were watching the Good Eats episode about biscuits on the TiVo. (Which, by the way, is the best thing to happen to television since the remote control. Scratch that...since the television.)
He's adjusting just fine, I think.
The other cat is a little two year old girl cat. She's smaller (maybe six pounds) and feeling a little bit more skittish (after having been in her new home for all of four hours...she's doing fine, just not flopping onto the couch with us quite yet). She's bright orange and black, with a white blaze on her chest and white mittens. The shelter calls her Miss Kitty. She hasn't told us her real name yet. We were walking through the cat rooms at the shelter, and this one basically just climbed up onto my shoulder. She's a sweet girl...just needs to get settled in and make friends with the boy cat.
Miss Kitty is a special-needs cat. She has an autoimmune disorder that leaves her prone to sores in her mouth. All of her back teeth have been removed, which seems to help in most cats. We talked about it, and decided that a) she loved on me, and b) she needs a home, and we can take good care of her. She's eaten, drank, and pooped in the litter box, so we think she'll settle in just fine if we leave her to her own devices.
I'm very happy. Pictures will be up soon, as soon as the Gallery is feeling better.
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AUTHOR: God
TITLE: Pics of the kids.
DATE: 01/24/2005 00:35:53
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Biscuit
Maggie
More pics here.
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AUTHOR: God
TITLE: Baby, baby, it looks like it's gonna hail...
DATE: 08/06/2003 01:32:52
PRIMARY CATEGORY: I don't TOTALLY suck at Dancing
STATUS: publish
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Right, so lately I've been taking some swing dancing classes. If you've ever seen Tommy's picture gallery, you'll probably note that every third picture is of people dancing. It's something that my friend Peter was into, and Peter drug Tommy into it, and Tommy in turn drug me into it. Of course, it wasn't THAT hard to convince me that dancing 'till the early morn with pretty girls was a Really Good Idea, but the learning curve was daunting. Of course, now that I've (unfortunately) got some free time on my hands, dance lessons was on the top of my List O' Things to Do. Not-so-coincidentally, George has arranged some lessons for us rank beginners. Helen and Tommy (right and center, respectively) were dragooned into teaching.
Now, I'm a musician. I have a decent sense of rhythm, and I can count to four. The freaky thing about swing dancing is, although the music is almost always in four, the step is in three. For a while, I'd be trying to count this in my head, and my brain just exploded. Trust me when I say that dance partners don't like that. I remember once, when I was just learning, my poor long-suffering dance partner looked at me and said "What ARE you doing?" And I said "Really not sure." She kindly finished our "dance", thanked me, and bolted for the cover of people who knew what was going on. Don't blame her in the slightest.
But, now, after a couple weeks of lessons, I've stopped counting, and it's starting to come a bit more naturally to me. It's gotten to the point that even if I get out of step, I can pick it back up in a beat or two, and if I'm really clever, my partner is none the wiser. Now I just need to get better at communicating my intentions to my follow, and THE WORLD IS MINE!
Baby steps, Lee, baby steps.
So tonight was the wrap-up for the beginner class. I even roped my mom into joining us, as the last few lessons we were short a lady or two. She did great, even when I sort of threw her in the deep end after about ten minutes of practice and explanation. After class, we went to The Bone for mo' dancing. I met my goals of 1) Not maiming anyone and 2) Dance with several different people. I haven't yet proceeded to 3) Dance with strangers and 4) not embarassing myself, but I think that's not too far from my grasp. (The embarassing myself part isn't really much of a hangup. Normally, my gaffes are good for a laff. Which is almost as much fun.)
Maybe when I figure out the Charleston.
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AUTHOR: God
TITLE: Look Right
DATE: 08/06/2003 01:40:24
PRIMARY CATEGORY: I don't TOTALLY suck at Dancing
STATUS: publish
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I meant to attach this poll to the story below, but I forgot. Any ladies answering "6" or "9", please feel free to email me. Thanks.
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AUTHOR: God
TITLE: MORE DANCE! MORE DANCE! and HTTP Referrer Logs
DATE: 08/13/2003 02:33:52
PRIMARY CATEGORY: I don't TOTALLY suck at Dancing
STATUS: publish
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I guess I've done caught the bug. My friends (including my ride) decided they were done dancing tonight at The Bone before I was done. Happily, I didn't step on too many toes tonight (although I suspect Allison will chuckle about my utter inability to dance THAT slowly. There was some weird tempo thing going on. I remember asking her "Well, this is weird. I'm looking for suggestions." to which she replied "I just follow." Thanks, dear. : )
Helen showed me a thing or two about blues dancing. That was WAY a lot of fun. I'll be happy to practice that a lot of times with any victims I can corner.
I was browsing through my referrer logs tonight. I found out that I'm about hit number eight if you search Google for "amazon warriors". My life is complete.
I'm also number two on Yahoo for "skeeved define", and number two on Google for GPS online classes.
My buddy Matt's site is number one for "footie pajamas".
Tommy is number eleven if you search for Strangeheart. He was number three last week, but it looks like some bigger sites have picked up on this awful, awful movie that's fun to watch. I talk some about it here. (OK, so I'm trying to climb the rankings. Sue me. I was number eight, and now I'm down below 20. Not acceptable.)
I have a new vice. I drank the Friendster kool-aid. Posted a ridiculous picture of myself, and people I know (and people I don't) have a whole new way to stalk me! Wheee!
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AUTHOR: God
TITLE: Dancing with Girls==Good.
DATE: 08/23/2003 02:25:12
PRIMARY CATEGORY: I don't TOTALLY suck at Dancing
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It's three o'clock in the morning. Just got back from a dance in Ft. Worth. Tommy and I piled into a car with Angela, Allison, and Heather, and headed over to the Ft. Worth Swing Dance Society's monthly (?) dance. It was held at this pretty Unitarian church, not far from Arlington.
Saw some new faces, and some old friends. Helen was running a lesson as we arrived, with a bunch of stuff I already knew how to do. Heh. So, Tommy and Allison volunteered to teach me the Lindy hop, which is a very different step than the stuff I'd already known. It also involves a partner with a not-inconsiderable head of speed, which I am required to redirect into spinny motion without letting her strike other dancers, furniture, the floor, walls, or any other dense articles. No pressure.
Helen was actually impressed that I pulled this one off. I don't know how to start the step, or stop the step, or really what to do while I'm doing the step, but the basic Lindy hop? I've got it. Sort of. Mostly, I'm happy that it's an eight-count step, instead of the ridiculous six-count that the regular swing basic step works in.
(Although, much to my chagrin, I found several places in the music where, although it was still in four, the three-count step worked as a great counterpoint. Guess those composers knew their business.)
Tommy set me up with a bunch o' swing standards for me to learn. I swear, he's like a pusher.
I've decided that when I can dance as well as I can cook, I will have mastered the masculine arts, and will then transcend to a higher level of being.
And chicks will dig me even more.
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AUTHOR: God
TITLE: Tommy's Obituary
DATE: 08/27/2003 02:31:10
PRIMARY CATEGORY: I don't TOTALLY suck at Dancing
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Wow. So I saw ol' Tommy get eviscerated by a girl tonight. She was a meanie.
So, there are a few couples on the floor at The Bone tonight, and the band is sounding pretty hot. Jeff and Allison are dancing, and Tommy decides he's gonna cut in and steal Allison. Good idea, wot? So he does, and Jeff promptly grabs another partner (who was not a part of the Usual Suspects, we who all know one another at these dances). So Jeff's dancing with New Girl, and Tommy's dancing with Allison. Jeff and Tommy then switch partners.
Or so they thought. New Girl is spinning towards Tommy, and just as he catches her, she jumps backwards and starts dancing with Jeff and Allison. Now, if she'd been playing, this would have been funny...
At first everybody thought she was just messin' around...which was fine. But she didn't so much as LOOK at Tommy after leaving him hanging...no "Ha ha! Wasn't that cute?" Unfortunately, she was all just "Uh, no." (and how's THAT for miserable sentence structure!?)
Pretty cold.
See, the swing scene here in Dallas is pretty friendly. Every single one of the regulars I've danced with has put up with more than a little bit of ineptness (although I more often than not dance with girls I've cooked for in the past, so they know that I'm not a totally worthless human being), and a self-deprecating chuckle and a big grin is enough to smooth over my lame-itude. That's a friendly dance. I mean, we're all there to learn and have fun, right?
This other person...dunno. She did not want to play. Well, maybe she wanted to play with Jeff (who is a magnificent dancer), but that is just RUDE.
So, New Girl, if you're reading this, you ain't gotta be like that.
After that, there were a couple good dances. I managed to sneak in and grab Angela after Jeff got distracted, but I was nice enough to give her back when we were done playing. Jeff, Tommy, and I (along with our lovely partners Heather, Allison, and Catherine, I think) executed a very cool synchronized group dip at the end of one song. We were all cool and stuff. And I? I didn't step on a SINGLE SOLITARY TOE. I rock.
Now here's a random picture.
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COMMENT:
AUTHOR: oddeyes15
EMAIL:
URL: http://
IP: 4.40.150.64
DATE: 08/31/2003 16:29:46
Haha, I can post a comment!
First of all, I'd like to say that stealing me (Allison) away from Jeff is no easy task... Jeff is rather protective of certain follows, so major kudos to Tommy for pulling it off. Secondly, I think if we see "New Girl" and she pulls something horrible like that again, there will be sufficient need for some "frappe a la tete."
Next task: get Peck to dance. There was way too much sitting going on from that boy, I tell you. We must "initiate" him properly into our dancing circle, jah? Tuesday is approaching...
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AUTHOR: God
TITLE: Two, two, TWO updates in one! Day!
DATE: 05/12/2004 21:36:56
PRIMARY CATEGORY: Church stuff. God is cool.
STATUS: publish
ALLOW COMMENTS: 1
ALLOW PINGS: 1
CONVERT BREAKS: 1
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85
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BODY:
Tonight, I went to choir practice. I've got a couple more to go yet, but it is one of my last rehearsals in the church I've attended for 20 years. We worked on this cool bouncy Handel tune, and a bunch of other fun music.
During the announcements part, everybody sang me happy birthday (Happy Birthday!) and then, because I'm leaving, I was presented with a Methodist hymnal embossed with my name, and signed by the music minister, who has been a wonderful influence on me for a very long time. He referred me to a prayer, which I thought was very appropriate. (Number 69, for those of you with a hymnal)
For True Singing
Glorious God, source of joy and righteousness,
enable us as redeemed and forgiven children
evermore to rejoice in singing your praises.
Grant that what we sing with our lips
we may believe in our hearts,
and what we believe in our hearts
we may practice in our lives;
so that being doers of the Word and not hearers only,
we may receive everlasting life;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen
Amen indeed.
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Posted by Lee at 04:41 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
September 14, 2004
Portland's WalMart Denizens Suck.
OK, I've been in Wal Marts in Texas (rural and metro), Louisiana (it's all rural), and Northern California. I'm going to go on record stating that Wal Mart denizens here in Portland, OR are the least considerate bunch I've ever seen.
What exactly possesses people to stop dead in the middle of the walkway, each of four children wandering off in different directions, and turning your ridiculously over-burdened cart directly into my axis of advance to have an argument with your wife IN THE DAMN FOYER OF THE STORE? This happened to me three times trying to get in and out of the building.
Add that to the fact that the people in charge of designing the traffic flow into the front of that building were drooling idiots, and you've got a Recipe for Fun with Humanity.
Posted by Lee at 06:34 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
September 09, 2004
Get me off this planet.
Tonight, while buying cold medicine for a sick girlfriend, I decided to also buy a loaf of bread and some cream soda.
I've never been carded trying to buy cream soda before.
The world is broken.
Posted by Lee at 12:42 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
August 26, 2004
Of mobile phones and puddles...
Hokay, so I did a bad.
Yesterday, I was walking back home from the library (I got a library card now!) in the rain (it rains in Portland. Who knew?). I was holding my PDA in one hand, looking for a phone number, and Barb's phone in the other hand, while walking. Nobody as clumsy as me should ever, ever do this. So, of course, I stumble and chuck Barb's phone into a puddle the size of Lake Erie.
Yeah, I'm just that coordinated.
Now, my friend Teel had just done this with her phone a few months ago while playing disc golf. Rusty took her phone apart and let it dry, and it was Happy Happy again. So I did the same thing. Not Happy Happy.
Barb took the (practically brand new) phone into the PCS store, and they basically told her "Hmmm...didn't buy the extended warrantee? Sucks to be you. How about a new phone?" Ugh. So this evening, I went phone shopping. I told Barb that this was totally my responsibility, and I would get her a new phone one way or the other (preferably sooner rather than later, as this is her only phone). So, I went to Costco (which was an adventure in its own right. I've never seen a Costco buried in the side of a hill before.) to look for phones. They had crappy phones for much money. Nope. So I went into the Sprint PCS store, and they basically told me "Hmmm...didn't buy the extended warrantee? Sucks to be you. How about a new phone?" Ugh.
Bout what I expected.
So, I decided (oh man, here it comes) to see if I could get a phone. They ran my credit, and it came back aces. Wow! That's a surprise. So, the guy tells me that if I sign up for a new plan, I can get two phones for $50 (instead of one phone for $250). Now, I'm bad at math (no I'm not) but this sounds like a good deal to me. I've been toying with the idea of getting a mobile, since I need to be reach-able for job stuff, and I don't like stealing Barb's phone all the time. So, I hem and haw, and buy the two phones. Now, the fine print.
The salesman had told me that I could keep Barb's number, and not need to pay a cancellation fee. 90% of the way through the paperwork, the guy gives me my two new phone numbers.
Whoa there, Skippy. Hold the phone(s).
He had miscommunicated to me. I was creating a whole new contract with Sprint, and hers was still going to be active. Uh oh...this is bad. I'm about ready to pull the plug. Salesman (not wanting to watch new prey^h^h^h^hcustomer walk out the door) gives me a loophole. Ask me about it next time you see me. Basically, the loophole seals the deal.
With Sprint. Now I need to talk to Barb. Suffice it to say, this deal was not in my task list for the evening.
I explain to her the deal, and why I did it. I told her that if this is a bad idea, we've got 14 days to change our minds. The bad news is that she'll have to change her phone number, but with The Loophole this even becomes manageable. After she takes a bit of time to wrap her head around the fact that her boyfriend has basically cancelled her communications link to the outside universe and created another one, she allows as how this is a Pretty Good Deal.
So now I have a mobile phone. I have now joined The Dark Side. If I like you, ask me for my phone number.
Whew.
Oh yeah: PS and by the way, the phones I got two for $50 were the same damn model as the one I killed. Guess I'll have to remember not to throw these in puddles, huh?
Posted by Lee at 01:45 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
August 16, 2004
Rotten Tomatoes is wrong.
Last night, the lady and I went to see Alien vs. Predator. Now, when you sit down in a movie theater to watch this, you sign up for a couple things.
1) There will be people dying. Badly.
2) You need to suspend your disbelief. Do not take things seriously.
3) One measure of goodness is how wrong you are about who's going to die.
This is a horror film. It's an action movie. Get some popcorn and enjoy yourself. This is not, repeat NOT, supposed to be a Serious Film.
So what's up with all the hatin' at Rotten Tomatoes? Usually a pretty good read on whether a movie is going to be awful or not, RT just PANNED AvP. What did they think was going to happen? You've got aliens. You've got predators. You've got some very unfortunate humans. Hijinks ensue.
Looking back, several of director Paul W. S. Anderson's other films that I really enjoyed also got zero lovin' at RT. Guess those reviewers just can't appreciate a good cheez-fest. Resident Evil and the first Mortal Kombat movie were just way a lot of fun. Sure, they were based on video games, but you know what? I had a good time watching them.
OK, Event Horizon didn't really work, and Soldier was freakin' awful, but hey...the man's still batting better than .500 with me. That's good, right?
What, you don't buy the back story? You're worried about continuity with the other films? Here's a hint. GET OVER IT. Your butt is in the seat because you want to see two great movie monsters Fight to the Death, a lot of times.
One thing I did find amusing was the number of flashlights in the movie. Every character...EVERY CHARACTER, seemed to have two or three flashlights on their person, plus one on their weapon (if they were smart enough to actually read the script before venturing into this hellhole, and came strapped with the biggest gun they could find). I mean, if the problem could have been solved with flashlights, this human party would have WON.
But, fortunately, the aliens and predators both seemed to appreciate the flashlights only as "Come eat me!" markers. As it should be.
One funny line...the Tough Ice Guide Chick says to the Tough Short Haired Mercenary Chick "I've never seen a gun save somebody's life out there..." Well, you're right. Going into this situation, you need way more bullets than you can carry...but at least you can go out swinging.
Heck, if I could find an IMI Desert Eagle that carries 30 rounds in the magazine, I'd probably carry one too. (Hint: the .50 only has seven rounds. Use them wisely.)
Gun geekery aside, the movie was just fun. Had some ridiculous bits. Had some scary bits. Had some "Wow, cool! Aliens and Predators!" bits. Had some "Boy, humans are DUMB!" bits. Pretty much just what the doctor ordered.
Not as good as Aliens. Not as good as Predator. Easily better than any of the four other movies in these two series. Three out of seven ain't bad....
Posted by Lee at 12:38 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
August 11, 2004
Went to a pretty place today...
This evening, Barb took me to the Columbia River Gorge. On the way, we stopped at a brew pub for dinner.
I can't pick between beers, so I tried them all.
So, the gorge was really pretty. Lots of nice waterfalls and scenic vistas. More pictures for your enjoyment.
Posted by Lee at 01:06 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
August 04, 2004
Where's Lee? AT FLÜGTAG!
I vanishted.
I'm currently in Portland, OR job hunting and visiting with my lady. I've got a job fair at Boeing next Thursday, and I'm trying to make some stuff go at Honeywell working on their terrain avoidance systems. I'm currently enjoying my sweet new laptop from the comfort of ze sofa. Wireless networking is my friend!
With a little bit of luck, I'll find work up here and have my People back in Dallas ship me my junk.
Last Saturday, Barb and I went to the Red Bull Flügtag on the Willamette River. We had great seats, right down on the water, maybe 50 yards from the "landing" area. (By "landing" I mean "crashing spectacularly") Unfortunately for the teams, but fortunately for the spectators, there was about a 10 knot tailwind blowing right down the flight line. So, basically, the mad charge of the teams pushing their craft towards the 30' drop pretty well nulled out any airspeed they might have had, and they pretty well just plummeted into the river. There were a couple teams that got lucky and flew pretty well (some even had a flight to plummet ratio of greater than 1!) but mostly, we enjoyed the teams' skits, and then pointed and laughed when they crashed into the water amidst the wreckage of their craft.
Nothing like laughing at the misfortune of others!
Apart from that, we went to the dance last Thursday, and that was cool. I put a new hard drive in Barb's computer, the better to pillage large amounts of music with. Yesterday, we went to see Saved, which was remarkably good.
Nobody in OR believes in air conditioning. It is my professional judgement that they should. It's not near as hot and gruesome as Texas, but it's warm enough for me to want something other than a fan.
Pictures of Flügtag are here! Also, check out the videos on the official website linked above..
Posted by Lee at 02:40 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 19, 2004
Been some time...
(This is shorter than my initial post that got et by my web browser. Grumble.)
Hokay, so what's up with me? Well, I'm on tenterhooks waiting for Raytheon to green-light my move to El Segundo, CA. If you know anybody there, please tell them that I'm super-cool and I've got a master plan. I want to move to the beach!
Apart from that, I'm just trying to not go stir crazy. I got to go on a little trip over July 4th. My sugar momma, Barb, flew me out to Portland OR for a couple days. Got to spend some quality time with the ladytype, which was most agreeable. Portland is a beautiful city. I got to meet a bunch of Barb's friends over Ethiopian food (which was delicious, and not a cricket to be found!). They seemed to like me all right. Not surprising...who can resist my boyish charm?
Then there were a few weeks of just hanging out and trying to stay out of trouble. There was a Tommyparty, which is always good for some fun. And, my mom inherited her father's target pistols, which have gone to the range a couple times. I'm looking forward to practicing with them some more...I'd like to be able to call myself a good shot.
This weekend, my buddy Dan celebrated his wedding at an open house. It was kind of weird to run into my middle school principal at a social function, but I think I handled myself well enough. It's odd to think of Dan married, with an eleven year old stepdaughter. It's hard to figure out who's going to get who into more trouble. I think Malissa's going to have her hands full, particularly when Kitty (their amusingly-named Great Dane puppy) gets her grow on.
Congratulations, buddy. Long life, many blessings on your house.
Then, I went over to Neil's birthday party. Not totally sure why, but there were people who were running around without shirts on. Not all were male. It was like a Tommyparty, only earlier, and without the hot tub. Happy birthday, Neil! Call those dinosaurs!
Sunday, I woke up with a sore throat, which meant that I wouldn't be able to scream too loud at the They Might Be Giants concert that evening. So I took it easy until about 6:00, when Teel called. She told me that I was about to be kidnapped for a baseball game and the concert. She'd been given a pair of killer seats for the Rangers-Bluejays game at The Ballpark. I was a little worried about getting to the game for a useful amount of time, and then getting back in time for the concert. Teel essentially told me "Shut up and get in the car."
Yes ma'am.
She was a lot more polite about it, of course, but the implication was clear. So, we set a land speed record getting over to R&S's house so Teel could change clothes. Teel then opened a dimensional rift between Carollton and Arlington, delivering us at The Ballpark at the bottom of the second inning. The Bluejays were already up 2-1. Eek.
Now, I should go ahead and admit that I'm not a baseball fan. In my mind, the average baseball game takes about 5.4 years to complete, during which absolutely nothing happens. Now Teel has a little different perspective, since she gets to look at baseball players with tight butts in tight pants. I don't share her predilection, but I can certainly understand it. Our seats were perfect for batter-butt-watching, since we were right on the first base line eight rows back from the field. So we grabbed some beers and some peanuts, and I settled in for the long haul.
The Ballpark is a really cool place. The seats are comfortable, the Jumbo-Tron is sufficiently jumbo, and the butts were tight.
Teel's rubbing off on me. That's scary.
So, up until the 8th inning, the baseball game was lining up with my preconceptions. I was having a good time guessing which batters were going to foul a ball into my forehead (didn't happen) and munching on salty salty peanuts, and chatting with Teel. Then, in the bottom of the 8th, Teel told me that the Rangers were about to score four runs, and then two more in the ninth. She was wrong.
The Rangers scored SIX runs (two RBIs and one honest-to-God bases loaded Grand Slam home run) in the eighth, and then shut down the Jays' batting roster in the top of the 9th.
Game over, have a nice trip back to Canadia. If you hurry, you can get back there in time for summer.
Now another dimensional rift happens. Teel gets a text message at 9:55 (as we're walking out of the park) that TMBG are about to go on stage. We pile into the car, and set a record hurtling across Dallas to get to Deep Ellum for the show. We walk in the door just as the band is launching into the national anthem, Istanbul's Not Constantinople. YAY! We went upstairs and met with Tommy Heather6 Greg and TonyM. We then proceeded to rock out.
I hadn't listened to any of TMBG's stuff that's come out since I was in college (the first time), and I was pleased that they were still going new places with their music. It was an awesome show. Can't wait to get a hold of their new album, and see what else comes out of their collaboration with H*R. I like the video for Experimental Film, directed by Strong Bad and The Cheat. Sweet, sweet meme collision!
So that brings us to today. Gonna touch base with my recruiter and my security officer at Raytheon, and see what's up. I'm hoping hoping that they tell me "Lee! You need to be here Monday!" Failing that, I'm going back to Portland at the end of the month (sugar momma got a raise and needs help celebrating. w00t!), including an hour layover in Las Vegas. I'm gonna stick a dollar in a slot machine and try to get rich.
So. Until then, I bid you peace and happiness. Rock rock on!
Posted by Lee at 01:12 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
February 10, 2004
*snore*
Just got back from Lindy Gras in New Orleans today.
I am beat. I will write more about the experience later. Suffice it to say that it was Way Way Way Super Duper Fun.
In the mean time, amuse yourself with pictures of last August's toobing trip to Austin. I had forgotten about the little waterproof camera I'd taken on the river. Got some good stuff!
More on Lindy Gras real soon now. Rest assured that Tommy will have more pictures than I do.
Mary likes the word "populacrity". Ask her what it means.
Posted by Lee at 12:57 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
January 15, 2004
UPDATE!
'Sbeen a long time, wot?
OK, in brief:
Thanksgiving was at Uncle Chuckie's house. We had a fried turkey and a roasted turkey and a smoked turkey. All were nummy.
Christmas was in Mandeville, LA with Tommy's family. I fried a turkey, and it was nummy. We also ate a rib roast, which be'd on fire in the grill, and was also very nummy (and rare, the way I like it!)
After Christmas was at chez moi with the fam, Teel, and Tommy. We had smoked salmon, rib roast, Yorkshire pudding, horseradish, mashed taters, and PIE. It was really really really nummy.
New Year's was at Rusty and Sarah's house. There was singing and food and pictures hanging from the ceiling and me shooting people with corks and hot tubbing and me kissing lots of girls.
w00t.
Now, I'm in Woodsboro, Maryland. I helped my friend Ann (Squid Girl) move cross country to be with her family out here, and they've sorta made me their own for a little bit while I job-hunt. Ann's sister Lee (which is really confusing, lemme tell ya) is determined to find me a job. I encourage that determination. Go both Lees!
Out here, I got to feed horsies. I got to play with two different dogs, and at least three cats. I got to go to the new Smithsonian Air & Space Museum annex at the Dulles airport. (Standing underneath the Enola Gay is creepy.) I got to play with MacOS X. I also GOT TO SEE SNOW! We might have an inch or two by morning. I'm so amped about that. I'm about to go to bed, but I found something that's better than world peace, and I had to share it with the world.
Google can perform unit conversions, and simple calculations, just from the search bar. So if you're like me and have the Google toolbar (or there's one for Mozilla), you can simply type "Half a cup in pecks" and Google replies with "half (1 US cup) = 0.0134276088 US pecks".
Wow. In case anybody didn't actually know that Google is the coolest tool in the universe, I think we've put that doubt to rest. It converted any unit I could throw at it, and did simple calculations too. Absolutely brilliant feature. Go read about all the other cool things Google knows how to do.
So when can I buy some of their stock?
Posted by Lee at 12:11 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
September 17, 2003
Diamonds are Annoying.
Remember the other day, when I talked about my pet peeves?
Found another one.
I really am tired of being told that a diamond ring is the only acceptable expression of undying love and devotion. Me, I don't happen to think diamonds are particularly attractive. Now, that's just my personal opinion, but I must admit it was influenced by reading articles like this
Now, I know I'm on dangerous territory here. My mom owns a very nice ring with four diamonds that my father gave her for an anniversary (their twentieth?) some years ago. You, gentle reader, might well own a diamond that you treasure, given to you by somebody who cares greatly for you. I wouldn't wish to impugn the emotional value of that symbol. The feelings that some people choose to express or symbolize with fine jewelry are absolutely genuine. Most of the time. Having given my disclaimer...
I feel compelled to say something about this because it nags at me every time I see that commercial with the guy in Italy screaming about how he loves his wife, then gives her a ring, and she whispers how much she loves him. Now, I know that he didn't just buy her love. I know that these characters probably have a long history of caring for one another, and this ring is simply a symbol of their affection and devotion for one another.
However, from an advertising perspective, the implication couldn't be clearer. You want love? Buy a diamond and give it to somebody. If you don't, you're a schlock and a cheapskate.
This is a relatively new phenomenon. From the Atlantic article I linked above:
The diamond invention is far more than a monopoly for fixing diamond prices; it is a mechanism for converting tiny crystals of carbon into universally recognized tokens of wealth, power, and romance. To achieve this goal, De Beers had to control demand as well as supply. Both women and men had to be made to perceive diamonds not as marketable precious stones but as an inseparable part of courtship and married life. To stabilize the market, De Beers had to endow these stones with a sentiment that would inhibit the public from ever reselling them. The illusion had to be created that diamonds were forever -- "forever" in the sense that they should never be resold.
The article goes on to say that the phenomenon of the diamond solitaire engagement ring was fabricated by the marketing executives for the diamond cartels. Heck, it worked on me: I bought a diamond ring (on credit, no less) for my ex-fiancee. That's what a guy who's in love is supposed to do, right?
Well, the relationship didn't work out, but that's not the only reason I feel like a sucker. I feel like a sucker because I got sold on this image: Diamonds==love. But that simply isn't so. They're a relatively common gemstone whose production is very carefully regulated by an international cartel, to artificially inflate their price. Don't believe me? Take a look at the secondary market.
So. Look into the labor conditions in diamond production. Look into the history of the marketing campaign. Then go shopping. Maybe you'll choose something like my folks did: A really neat emerald engagement ring that looks totally different from any other ring I've ever seen. One thing I do know about love: It is different for everyone.
Incidentally, if this doesn't inflame you the way it does me, just wait until we see DeBeers come down on the new firms wanting to use diamonds in computer production. That ought to get your dander up.
Posted by Lee at 10:52 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
September 07, 2003
OK, time for MY pet peeve.
Over the last couple of weeks, a few of my friends have posted some pet peeves of theirs.
My turn.
I'm generally a pretty even-tempered guy. However, I am something of a grammar and spelling nazi. When the latest Adobe PDF commercial (and why exactly do I need to watch a commercial for a FILE FORMAT? That's like watching a commercial for CARDBOARD BOXES. Stupid.) says "Blah blah blah, which begs the question blah words blah blah", it just sets my teeth on edge.
Listen, gentle reader, as I edify you.
From wikipedia.com:
In popular usage, the phrase is often taken to be synonymous with "raising the question"; for example, The recent KKK march begs the question "when does free speech go too far?" This usage is regarded by many, especially academics, as substandard. Part of the reason for the misunderstanding over what "begging the question" means may be due to the confusing term itself, which was translated into English from Latin in the 16th century. The Latin version, Petitio Principii, would be translated more accurately as "Claiming the truth of the very matter in question," but the more pithy "Begging the question" has become the well-known translation.
I accept and understand that I am seriously unbalanced to even spend a moment thinking about this. But it really annoys me as I sit here, unemployed, while some marketing flack pulls down six figures somewhere using TERRIBLE ENGLISH. Apparently, the same idiot is writing Lexus commercials too. Bring me his (her?) head.
(Aside: Repeat after me, my friends. "Congress shall make no law...abridging the freedom of speech...or the right of the people peaceably to assemble..." So, NO, the KKK marching most emphatically does NOT "beg the question (sic) 'when does free speech go too far'". If a free society starts suppressing dissidents, it is no longer a free society. That means that we must not forbid people we disagree with to speak, even publically. This is basic civics, people. It really bothers me how many people don't get that free speech isn't about protecting speech people agree with. If you can't rhetorically defend your objection to the KKK's precepts in a public forum, don't you DARE try to silence them. It's cowardice, and it betrays the foundations of our country.)
OK. Moving along.
Posted by Lee at 03:56 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
September 05, 2003
My Mom's Pretty Smart.
My mom suggested to me at dinner tonight that I should write a book, titled "If Their Mothers Love Me, Why Can't I Get a Date"?
I think she's absolutely right.
Posted by Lee at 08:24 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
September 03, 2003
New Junkyard Wars Sucks.
Well, I got to watch a bit of the new season of Junkyard Wars tonight.
Bleh.
The new hosts ask dumb questions. One is a ditzy girl, and the other is a ditzy boy. Neither have the vaguest idea what constitutes good engineering, nor are they funny. Cathy Rogers was a) gorgeous, b) the show's creator (and, therefore, clueful) and c) funny. Robert Llewellyn was a) funny, b) on Red Dwarf, and c) clueful. The American hosts from the last season were relatively non-objectionable, but these newbies are teh sux.
I love this show. The early seasons were about clever field engineering. Now, we seem to be focusing more on the friction that occurs on the teams as the pressure increases. I mean, I know the friction is part of the drama, sure, but (at least on this episode) it looked like Survivor. Really lame. Too bad the producers feel like they're making Yet Another "Reality Show", and not something fun and unique.
I would, however, love to compete. Gimme a good welder and somebody who knows engines, and I'll take on anybody in the world.
Posted by Lee at 11:09 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
August 15, 2003
Number Three...With a Bullet!
I am currently ranked number three on Google if you search for Amazon Warriors, behind Nova and, well, a porn site. I hope that Google gets all recursive on me and moves me up in the rankings because I link to Google linking to me talking about Amazon Warriors.
Amazon Warriors, particularly boomerang equipped ones, are my absolute favourite kind.
If you look down and to your left, you'll note a little box that says "onomatopoeia.org". That's my friend Matt's RSS feed, which automagically updates the headlines listed in that box as he posts. He's a pretty funny guy, although I'd recommend not discussing the finer points of sinus medication with him. He's apparently quite the boxer.
Posted by Lee at 01:32 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
August 11, 2003
Aviation and Intellectual Property: A Rant
I'm a pretty serious NPR junkie. I listen to KERA 90.1, the local affiliate, any time I'm near a radio. This morning on the Diane Rehm Show, Tom Crouch & Peter Jakab of the National Air & Space Museum were talking about their new book, The Wright Brothers and the Invention of the Aerial Age, and the eponymous exhibit at the Smithsonian Institution. It was interesting to contrast their view with that of Seth Shulman, whose book Unlocking the Sky I read a couple weeks ago, after hearing about it on (amazingly enough) NPR.
A bit o' history.
In 1903, the Brothers Wright flew the first manned, heavier-than-air, powered aircraft in history. Their brilliant engineering ushered in a much smaller, faster, and (to me) far more interesting world.
In 1908, Glenn Curtiss claimed the first major aviation prize, flying over a kilometer before witnesses. Curtiss, and his engineering partners (including Alexander Graham Bell), were some of the most prolific and innovative aeronautical engineers of the first half of this century. His aircraft defined the state of the art.
Unfortunately, the Wright Brothers' brilliant engineering came to a screeching halt in about 1905, when they had built an airplane that could essentially fly as long as the pilot cared to keep it in the air. At that point, they concentrated their efforts on securing a worldwide monopoly on the very concept of powered flight, and sued practically every aircraft builder on Earth over the next 15 years. They had secured a patent on their method for lateral stability of aircraft.
An aside: Lateral stability was one of the biggest challenges facing early aviators. Lateral stability can be understood in terms of controlling the aircraft about its "roll" axis, the axis that runs from the nose to the tail of the aircraft. When you were flying around your living room with your arms extended going "NNNYYYEEEEEROOOWNNNG" as a kid, you were imitating lateral stability when you lean left and right to move your "wings". Otto Lilienthal, the German aviation pioneer, was killed in his experimentation with unpowered gliders, largely because his lateral controls were insufficient to keep the airplane upright. The Wright Brothers patented their novel technique for lateral control. Basically, they used a system of cables to warp the wings. To envision this, stick your arms out to the side, and twist your wrists so your left hand turns upwards and your right hand turns downwards. In this configuration, your left "wing" will generate more lift, and tend to lean you to the right. (Now you can go "NNNYYYEEEEROOWNNNG!" if you want to)
So, the Wright Brothers patented their method for controlling the lateral stability of the aircraft. Unfortunately (for everybody but the Wrights) that patent was interpreted by various courts to cover not only their method, but ALL methods for controlling lateral stability. Basically, you could not build a controllable aircraft without infringing on the Wrights' patent, regardless of what mechanism you use to generate that control.
That brings me to my major beef with the patent office, one that has persisted over the last 100 years. The explicit, Constitutional purpose (See Article I Section 8) for the patent office is:
To promote the Progress of Science and useful Arts, by securing for limited Times to Authors and Inventors the exclusive Right to their respective Writings and Discoveries
So, the idea is, if an inventor is allowed to profit from their work for a specified period by awarding them exclusive access to their own device, inventors will be encouraged to advance the state of the art. There is a very important concept hidden here: The social good is the advancement of the state of the art, not profit for the inventor. The purpose of this clause is to encourage innovation. The mechanism of that encouragement is the grant of a limited monopoly on an invention.
Now, what happened with the Wright Brothers is that their patent was interpreted to include not only their wing warping technique (which they developed and enhanced, but did not create, although their patent was granted), but any technique for lateral control of an aircraft. Their patent was extended (by the courts) to embrace not their invention (a clever wing warping technique) but an idea (lateral stability and control).
This subtle distinction underscores the problem with the patent system as it is currently being used. "Inventors" (or, more frequently, holding corporations which purchase patents from true innovators, yet do nothing to develop products from said patents) lie in wait for people to develop and market a product, and then sue the pants off of them. The patent holders in these cases often have no intent or ability to actually advance the state of the art (by marketing a product or selling reasonable licenses to others), but to get a big cash win in court. This is not the way the system is supposed to work.
RIM sues Handspring because Handspring has a teeny keyboard on their handheld computers
NTP sues RIM because RIM sells devices that check email wirelessly
RamBus sues everybody who makes fast computer memory
And, the great-granddaddy of them all:
SCO tries to sue everybody who uses and/or develops for Linux
Much like these suit-happy firms, the Wright Brothers (who were indeed superior engineers and innovators before they got distracted with visions of monopoly profits) decided that, rather than innovate, they would prevail by lawsuits. Instead of improving their product, they would try to force their competitors to knuckle under or go out of business (Curtiss' designs consistently out-performed the Wrights' aircraft, yet he was almost forced to close shop because of the Wrights' usurious licensing terms).
So what is fair? Certainly, patents should be able to protect innovators from people who would steal their invention and market it without compensation. However, it is important to remember that the purpose of patent protection is to advance the state of the art by making it safe to publicize and market technological advancement.
So what do I suggest? Make patents non-transferrable. The original innovator may offer licensing for their idea, but all licensees should be offered the same terms (no exclusive arrangements). The patent should be protected for a finite amount of time, extendable by the innovator for an escalating cost over time. If another innovator creates a device independently, the patent should be held jointly. Patents should be for specific, non-obvious mechanisms, not for broad concepts. In all cases, patents should be protected if and only if they are on the market. There are several silly patents on the books now, that lock up the logical next steps of information technology devices. For instance, NTP simply took the existing technology of wireless communication, and the existing technology of electronic mail, and decided that they would patent the idea of receiving email over a wireless connection. One key feature of patentable ideas is that they should not be obvious to an expert in the field. Any computer expert would have told you that wireless e-mail is an obvious technology, and should thus not be patentable.
Unfortunately, the US Patent and Trademark Office is overwhelmed with patent applications, and they are unable to exercise their due diligence to uncover prior art which might disqualify a patent application. They leave that task for the courts, which are notoriously favorable to whichever party has deeper pockets.
OK, so that's my rant. Me, I'm now a Glenn Curtiss partisan. I am a big believer in winning in a market due to superior engineering rather than legal obstructionism, monopoly dominance, or deceptive marketing. (Hear that, Mr. Gates?)
Glenn Curtiss, getting ready to fly.
Posted by Lee at 11:03 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 29, 2003
This is the Best Horoscope Ever
This is the best horoscope I've ever had. From Rob Brezsny's Free Will Astrology web site:
I don't see physical danger in your immediate future, Taurus, but you may be exposed to higher levels of psychic toxins than usual. Therefore, I suggest that you erect a protective barrier to shield yourself. Visualize a force field of violet light surrounding you everywhere you go. To add a touch of humor -- which will dramatically bolster your defenses, by the way -- imagine that the force field is augmented by rainbow-colored barbed wire, boomerang-wielding amazon warriors, and a gang of wisecracking dragons.
How cool is that? With a horoscope like that, I can conquer the world.
Posted by Lee at 08:23 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 14, 2003
I'm going to wash my car.
I'm going to wash my car today.
For those of you who know me, this is a truly shocking concept. See, when I wash my car, as much paint comes off as dirt. It's really depressing. But, I figure that I'll wash it every four years or so, whether it needs it or not. It'll be nice to have really clear mirrors...for about half an hour, until the trees start having sex on them again.
I think I'm going to have a "Paint Lee's Car Party". That'd be fun.
Posted by Lee at 12:48 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 12, 2003
Look Right.
This is a survey. I don't quite know how to make them work yet. Enjoy.
Posted by Lee at 12:44 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Hi! Remember me?
Wow. It's been about six months since I last posted. Regular viewers (if I have any left) will note that the radiopossibility.com site is, unfortunately, no more. However! Due to the PHP goodness of my ol' buddy ol' pal Tommy, I now have a new site that I can customize to my heart's content.
No, I'm not promising to update more often. And yes, I know all the images are broken. But! Look! Up there! A cool new banner! See how cool I am?
see?
anybody?
Also note the new Web Links that get the coveted Lee Seal of Approval. You can tell, because, uh, there's a seal there. A seal...of approval. It's Lee's.
see?
anybody?
Posted by Lee at 12:32 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 08, 2003
New Web Site! Now with Less Content!
Hey hey! It's your friendly neighborhood irregular blogger! This is my new site. There are many like it, but this one is mine.
Here I'll be chronicling, among other things, my hunt for a job. (If you need an engineer who can actually talk to real humans too, I am your man.)
So! Enjoy.
Posted by Lee at 12:05 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
August 29, 2002
Sex and the City...is Crap.
Thursday, August 29, 2002
I wrote this screed yesterday, but couldn't figure out how to get my web site to flip my home page. I guess it hated me, but it's happy now. So, we proceed:
I just made a mistake. I sat down and watched three hours of Sex and the City. You know, the "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus" HBO miniseries that's ever so trendy and speaks so much to the heart of modern single people.
My failure to relate to this television program is so profound and deep, I felt the need to write a rebuttal. It's just so wrong, the way people think about each other.
Now, your first thought might be "Hey, Lee? What the heck were you doing watching that TV show? You might note that you're not a member of the target audience." Well, you're right. This is one of the discs I won last Halloween at the costume party, and there's something wrong about having a video on your shelf that you have never watched. Call it a pet peeve.
I should have been outside changing my tire (which is flat), but it's hot out there! So I popped this disc in the player, and was treated to three hours of neuroses and overgeneralizations. Now, normally, I'd be able to laugh, because at times it's pretty funny. I thought, however, that underneath the clever writing and the good jokes, there were some really unfortunate preconceptions about what's going on in the heads of the not-so-fairer sex (that is, mine).
Let me preface. I'm a big believer in the Principle of Mediocrity. Since Copernicus decided that the earth was in fact one of several planets revolving around the Sun, humanity has been forced to confront the possibility that we are not unique. We may be one of many intelligent life forms living on a none-too-special planet circling a dime-a-dozen sun. If you change this idea from an observation about the universe to an observation about individual humans, it starts to look like this:
"My viewpoint, although it is unique in the fact that it is mine, is not peculiar to me. There are in all likelihood many people who think the way I do."
The thing is, my viewpoint is not traditional. I think that men are no different from women.
Now, OK, everybody settle down a minute. If I wanted to phrase that less confrontationally, I'd say that the differences between individual humans are far more significant than the differences between statistical groups of men vs. women. Gender roles are, to my way of thinking, shortcuts to sloppy thinking. Why are all men assumed to be afraid of commitment? Why are all women assumed to be incomplete without a boyfriend/husband? Why is a guy who has a lot of women a stud, and a woman with a lot of guys a slut? And who the HELL decided that single people were some sort of sub-human mutant strain, doomed forever to loneliness and misery? Don't even get me started on THAT.
Yes, it's easy to understand the evolutionary imperatives behind some of these preconceptions. If you're trying to increase your species' population, a male impregnating many females is an advantageous position. Females choosing the most powerful man as their mate are likely to have stronger children.
But, in case we hadn't noticed, evolutionary imperatives are not exactly important to our future development. We have so much power to change ourselves, we have no need whatever for nature to take its course and change us.
Of course, that means it is incumbent upon us to pay attention to the world around us, and adapt our thinking accordingly. Does that sound like I'm advocating a realignment of traditional gender roles? Well, insofar as they exist any more at all (which I contest), you betcha.
I think, however, that there are two sorts of people. Since the TV show I'm ranting about is all about dating, I'll confine my observations to that little portion of interactions. The two sorts of people are: Those who know what they want, and those who do not know what they want.
The thing that gets me is that the women on this TV show say they want a sensitive, kind, caring man who can connect with them emotionally. When they get said "sensitive" man, they drop him like a hot rock telling themselves all sorts of ridiculous stories about how incompatible they are.
OK, I have to confess, I'm projecting a bit here. This is a situation I've found myself in (being a man who is, by nature, more sensitive and accomodating than your traditional frat-boy), and it's one I'm pretty tired of.
So here I am. Smart, articulate, emotionally well-balanced, and not horrifically gnarly to look at. I guess I'm just frustrated at not being able to find a woman who actually wants what she says she wants. Now, that might sound like a preconception, but I work very hard at making sure that it isn't. It's my observation, based on more personal experience than I'd like to admit. I mean, that's the way it works...you pays your money, you takes your chances...there's nothing wrong with that.
Haven't lost heart yet, though. I know which of those two types of people I am. What about you? Which one are you? Write and tell me, if you are so moved.
Posted by Lee at 01:43 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 25, 2002
Julia's Funeral
Thursday, July 25, 2002
Tough couple days.
Sunday, Emily called me and told me that her cousin Julia had been killed in an automobile accident in Houston. She told me that she was going to the funeral, and asked me to accompany her. I was happy to oblige.
I had really mixed feelings...I was really eager to see her (and her family, who I really like) again, but I knew that it was going to be a painful experience for everybody.
As it turned out, it was cheapest for Emily to fly into Dallas, and for us to drive down to Houston together. She flew in at midnight on Monday. Rusty and Sarah were happily able to join us for breakfast on Tuesday, before we headed out to Houston.
We got to Houston with only a modicum of difficulty (bad burger in Corsicana for Emily). We were driving Idoru, my poor beloved Miata. Driving across Texas with no air conditioning is an exercise in physical fortitude. Avoid.
Tuesday evening was the viewing, and the wake. Emily had been asked by Julia's family to sing at the funeral mass. She arranged to meet with the organist late in the evening, and we then went to the funeral home.
I am continually impressed with Emily's family. Even on this somber occasion, they were very friendly and welcoming to me, although I was something of a stranger. I was touched to be so included in this very difficult, personal time.
It might sound funny for a 28 year old guy, but I haven't really had to deal with death on a personal level. I mean, I've had pets die, and I was sad. My great grandmother and my grandfather have passed away, but in both cases it was one of those situations where you were left with the feeling that "it was time", so the death, though sad, was not a tragedy. However, this year, I've been brought steadily closer to my own mortality. A classmate of mine lost his infant son to an inoperable brain cancer. A coworker of mine's mother took her own life. My boss has lost a brother and a sister in rapid succession. And now, I'm looking at the still form of a beautiful young woman, lying in a casket. It hit me pretty hard.
I shook hands with the mother and the older sister, both of whom were bearing up very courageously. I simply didn't know what to say to these people without sounding like an idiot. I felt so awful that they had lost somebody who was such a vital part of their life, and I simply had no similar experience. I was at a complete loss for words.
The eulogy was truly astounding. Person after person after person came to the front of the room to speak about how Julia had lit up their lives. No less than ten of her classmates called her their "best friend". On occasion, Julia would say "I'm the Queen of Everything!" and everybody pretty much seemed to agree with her. By all accounts, she was an intelligent, vivacious, athletic, talented woman. She was a dynamic member of her church youth group. Everybody kept coming back to the fact that Julia lived every single day of her life. She wasn't waiting to get out of high school to start her life...she was making every day real and vital, and using every moment to tie herself to the people around her.
I wanted desperately to be able to say the same thing about my life.
I developed such an enormous respect for this young woman, and I deeply felt the loss of never having met her. Then her little brother stepped up to the podium. I didn't even understand everything he said, but it was abundantly clear that he just wanted his big sister back.
At that point, I just came apart.
I simply had no idea what to do. I mean, nothing I can imagine how to do or say seemed to be at all worthwhile anymore. What is my petty knowledge and wisdom against the loss of a young life?
Emily and I had to leave. She was meeting with the organist to rehearse her part in the service in the morning. I made small talk with her older brother, Chuck, and we sang along on the hymns we knew. We made fun of the Catholic hymnal, which didn't have the four-part harmonies written out...just the melody. It was a very nice tension breaker. I really don't know if I could have taken much more of the eulogies...and I hadn't even met the poor girl.
Emily's singing was, as usual, magnificent. She was sight-reading almost everything, and just kept sounding better and better and better. I have a great deal of regard for her skill and professionalism...she's awfully good at what she does.
The next morning, we attended the funeral mass. Emily was up in the choir loft, and I was sitting between her younger sister Kathryn and her brother. The homily (that's Catholic for "sermon") was well delivered, and centered on the fact that Julia had gone to her rest, and it was up to us left behind to continue in her footsteps.
Towards the end of the mass, we Protestants made the common mistake...we forgot that the Catholics often break The Lord's Prayer into two parts. I made a (totally inappropriate) joke about that to Kathryn, something about "You can always tell who the Protestants are when that happens..." or something equally inane.
The priests served communion, and I reflected on what this experience meant to me. I know that I haven't had any revelations that lots of people haven't had before, but it was the first time that the importance of living fully had been made REAL to me. I felt awful that it took the death of a young woman to get me to realize this.
It occured to me that if each person in that sanctuary could take just a little bit of Julia's fire and passion, and light it in our own lives, then our world will be a much, much better place.
So, Julia, message received. Although I feel I know a little about you in death, I'd have very much liked to know you in life. Rest in peace.
Posted by Lee at 01:36 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack