It seems that a few late-winter days in the sun are just what the doctor ordered to pick up the spirits. It's been a marvelous trip so far and to my own great surprise I haven't picked up my blackberry or turned on my laptop in the better part of five days now. Of course I know all that work I've been avoiding will probably bitchslap me on Tuesday, but at the moment I'm more concerned with the 5-7 inches of snow that are expected to fall in the Charlotte area tomorrow through the day. I'm not particularly enamoured with the ending this particular idyll with delayed flights and snowstorms. Call me crazy.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
A while yet...
Even if all I did was sit on the beach and read, grab an occasional rum punch, and eat whenever the mood struck me, I'd have a while yet before this vacation got old. Of course that's not all that's in the cards. It's a snorkling trip tomorrow, probably an island tour on Saturday, and then climbing back on a 757 for the ride back to the world. Time hasn't grown so short that my thoughts have turned brooding just yet, but every sunset is a reminder that an end is coming and that it's almost time to be an adult again.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Maybe a little too much...
A little too much sun this afternoon combined with a little too much rum and a sunset cruise this evening have conspired to make this a bit of a rough evening. I definitely think I'm over the rum punch for the rest of the night. Of course if someone twists my arm, I could possibly be convinced to give it one more go. As it is, I'm struggling to get up the steam to wander across the beach for dinner and steel drums at Iggie's.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Yeah, so I pack like a girl…
In a touch over 14 hours, I’ll be headed to Charlotte on the short leg of tomorrow’s itinerary. I always think my packing for TDY is bad until I have to pack for one of my own trips. I’m serious this time, though… I’m only checking one bag and will cram as much electronic gear as humanly possible into my carry one. I know it’s true that I pack like a girl, but I rarely get somewhere and think, “damn, I wish I had insert-name-of-item here.” With that being said, I’d better get back to it… I have a lot of empty suitcase that needs filled.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Lost, Damaged, or Destroyed...
After one of the longest four-day weeks in recent memory, I managed to get away from work nearly on time. I pounded out a txt on my way to the parking lot, put my bag on top of the truck bed cover, sat my phone down beside it, and tossed my coat in the back seat because I hate driving with my coat on. The bag is tossed in next, I settle in to the drivers seat and I'm off to start a week and a half of vacation time.
You might have noticed that I didn't mention picking my phone up. Well that's because I apparently didn't. Of course I didn't know this as I pulled out of the parking lot, drive through the gate, and made best possible speed for the house. I only realized this ten minutes later when I reached down to grab it off my belt clip. There was the clip sure enough, but the phone was ominously missing. I get behind me, thinking it probably had just popped out of the clip or maybe slid between the seat and center console. No dice there. Not paniced yet, I pulled my coat over the seat and rummaged through the pockets. Sill no phone. It want in its usual spot on the center console either. This is where the dread starts setting in. I pull to the shoulder, check under the seats, check my coat again, and actually check every place a phone could possibly end up. It, of course, was in none of these places.
So now I backtrack to the office. No one has turned in anything to the gate guard and it's not lying in or near the parking lot. It's not lying anywhere inside the fenceline for that matter. I scouted that area pretty well. It's not outside the gate where I would have made my first quick acceleration. It's not at the exit where I turned onto the highway. By now it has begun dawning on me that I'm not likely to find it. In a shower of curses not often heard from me, I admitted defeat and accepted that my phone was lost, damaged, or destroyed. .
So yes, my pretty and still relatively new 16 gig iPhone is no officially listed as missing in action. I only hope that flying off the back of a fast moving truck damaged it beyond repair because the thought of some schlep using my phone as a high powered iPod makes me crazy at the moment.
I've switched over to a back up phone and my number still works, so all told I was off the grid for about three hours. The absolutely terrifying hours.
You might have noticed that I didn't mention picking my phone up. Well that's because I apparently didn't. Of course I didn't know this as I pulled out of the parking lot, drive through the gate, and made best possible speed for the house. I only realized this ten minutes later when I reached down to grab it off my belt clip. There was the clip sure enough, but the phone was ominously missing. I get behind me, thinking it probably had just popped out of the clip or maybe slid between the seat and center console. No dice there. Not paniced yet, I pulled my coat over the seat and rummaged through the pockets. Sill no phone. It want in its usual spot on the center console either. This is where the dread starts setting in. I pull to the shoulder, check under the seats, check my coat again, and actually check every place a phone could possibly end up. It, of course, was in none of these places.
So now I backtrack to the office. No one has turned in anything to the gate guard and it's not lying in or near the parking lot. It's not lying anywhere inside the fenceline for that matter. I scouted that area pretty well. It's not outside the gate where I would have made my first quick acceleration. It's not at the exit where I turned onto the highway. By now it has begun dawning on me that I'm not likely to find it. In a shower of curses not often heard from me, I admitted defeat and accepted that my phone was lost, damaged, or destroyed. .
So yes, my pretty and still relatively new 16 gig iPhone is no officially listed as missing in action. I only hope that flying off the back of a fast moving truck damaged it beyond repair because the thought of some schlep using my phone as a high powered iPod makes me crazy at the moment.
I've switched over to a back up phone and my number still works, so all told I was off the grid for about three hours. The absolutely terrifying hours.
Getting in the mood...
Believe it or not there are times when I have had to actually work on getting myself psyched to go on vacation. There's always work piling up and the backlog when I return from where ever I wandered off to will certainly be enough to stun a team of oxen in their tracks. Some of it is usually the busybody in me just hating to be out of the loop for more than a day or two. For the record, this is not one of those times. I'm ready for this one and can't cut the feather soon enough. The only question now is whether I have the self discipline to leave the blackberry at home.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Decisions...
I've never understood why there is so much resistance by so many people to the simple act of making a decision. I'm not thinking about things like what movie to see or where to go for dinner. It's the ones about what projects should get priority, which ones need more incubation time, or which simply need to go away. Get the best information you can, decide the best course of action, and move out. Don't whine and complain about how hard it is. Grr.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Adiós Comcast... almost
With DirecTV now beaming 500+ channels of goodness into the house, I thought for sure I could finally be rid of the devil called Comcast. Trying to find an reasonable alternative to their cable Internet service, however, has proven to be an exercise in futility. The DSL that is available here just doesn't stack up after a few speed tests. So, for now it's an uneasy truce with the devil I know as I wait impatiently for Memphis to slog its way into the 21st century.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Good...
Sometimes I need to be reminded that despite the petty annoyances, the universe may not just be stringing us along after all. And it's always amazing that it's the small things, the things like an offhanded remark, an unexpected message, or a late night phone call that do most of the reminding. Sometimes that's just enough to carry you through to the finish line. Hey universe, thanks for tonights' reminder. Seriously. Well timed and greatly appreciated.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
200...
It's the 200th birthday of Charles Darwin which makes it about 150 years since he published On The Origin of Species. According to a poll published today only something like 39% of Americans believe in the kind of evolution outlined by our English friend. That's 39%. Are you serious? It boggles the mind that 61% of those polled either disagree or don't know what they believe. By the way, it's a question about what you *believe* how can you possibly not know the answer?Where ever it was that this 61% of the American public was educated, they should demand a refund or at least a repeat of Intro to Biology, as they have been badly misserved by the educational system.
I weep for the future of the Republic.
I weep for the future of the Republic.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
St. Thomas
I didn't really make it anywhere fun last spring and have decided to make up for that by taking a rather spur of the moment trip to St. Thomas at the end of the month. A week of sun, sand, blue water, and rum is likely just what the doctor ordered to start getting out of my traditional winter funk. Add in pleasant company and it should be a real event. With only 13 days left in the count, it can't get here fast enough. I'm not saying I'm the hardest working man in showbusiness, but I think I'm overdue for a break (and no, three week training classes don't count as a break)!
Monday, February 9, 2009
Managing expectations
Through most of my life I've never been terribly good at managing expectations. Or rather I should say that my expectations tend to swing wildly from puppy dogs and sunshine to the absolute bleakness usually reserved for 19th century poets. And all of this over the span of five minutes. Sure, I've learned to mask both of them fairly reasonably, but still, that's what's going on behind the scenes. You learn at an early age that if you keep those kind of thoughts in check you can save yourself a good deal of trouble in the long run.
I like black and white, the known versus the unknown. Some people seem to have a natural capacity or even a bit if a love for the unknown. I'm not one of those. It's strange and different and therefore scary. Far easier to retreat back to the comfort and ease of what we know.
Maybe I've chosen comfort and ease for so long that it's really all I know for certain and it becomes my default setting. Perhaps, it's time to to move beyond that. I really don't know how the rest of the world deals with the dichotomy between blind optimism and abject pessimism. If there's a trick I've got to learn it, because swinging from pillar to post is quite simply exhausting.
I like black and white, the known versus the unknown. Some people seem to have a natural capacity or even a bit if a love for the unknown. I'm not one of those. It's strange and different and therefore scary. Far easier to retreat back to the comfort and ease of what we know.
Maybe I've chosen comfort and ease for so long that it's really all I know for certain and it becomes my default setting. Perhaps, it's time to to move beyond that. I really don't know how the rest of the world deals with the dichotomy between blind optimism and abject pessimism. If there's a trick I've got to learn it, because swinging from pillar to post is quite simply exhausting.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
A note to retailers...
If you are a retailer facing what most are saying is the most foul economic climate in the post war period, the response to a customer walking in your door at 1:55 prepared to spend a few hundred dollar shouldn't be, "oh we close at two." Maybe you should find some time to focus a little more on "May I help you?" Really, though, go ahead and stick with your current customer relations model and let me know how that works out for you.
Sometimes things go right
Hard as it is to believe, sometimes things actually go right. I had Direct TV installed this morning and the installer called about 15 minutes before he got here at 8:15 to let me know he was on his way. He did a quick survey of the project and then got to work. Of course it remains to be seen if the damned thing will actually work once the dish is mounted and all the TVs are plugged in. I’m sure that will be a follow-on post.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Aww… Shit… Part II…
Our story begins long before dawn on Saturday, January 24th. In the pre-dawn darkness, I herded the dogs outside to do what dogs do while I finished packing the truck for the 13 hour drive to Maryland. With the truck packed and the dogs seemingly relieved, we set out on schedule from West Tennessee at 5:00 AM. Traffic was light and I was making great time. Barely an hour into the drive, I got my first indication that all systems were not go… an unusual gurgling noise from the general vicinity of Maggie, who was riding shotgun for the trip. I didn’t think much of it and assumed that it was her stomach protesting the lack of breakfast. No need tempting the fates of carsickness before a long drive, right? Right.
Now, I should pause here to point out that Winston absolutely must travel in his kennel. He’s all nerves, shedding, and slobber when he doesn’t have that security. Since he’s been riding in a kennel since just after he came home, I wanted to make sure that Maggie was a little more acclimated to riding commando on those long trips. Quite frankly a cage big enough for her inside the cab of the truck is simply out of the question, so I covered the passenger seat with an old sheet and we should have been good to go. Of course this wasn’t destined to be a normal day.
By this point we’re an hour and a half into the drive, darkness is still heavy on the face of the firmament and that’s when I hear the unmistakable sound of a dog about to heave. Having had most of a cup of coffee, I had the good sense to get on the brake and start wheeling towards the shoulder so I could face whatever was coming at a much lower rate of speed and with most of my attention. I heard the splash and almost simultaneously was hit broadside by the most disturbing, pungent aroma that I’d ever personally experienced. That’s right… Liquefied, partially digested, dog poo projectile vomit. Without even the benefit of light, I knew what had happened… but nothing prepares you for the first awful moment of light in a world gone mad. My sweet, darling lab had tossed on the seat, on the dash, and across the center console. My initial thought was an overwhelming need to clean… which was followed in short order by the overwhelming need to keep myself from blowing chunks all over the other side of the truck.
With all the fortitude I could muster, I set about the task of cleaning as best I could. The sheet had saved the seat, Armor All had mostly saved the dash, but the center console took the worst of it… The cup holders and ashtray full to the brim with brown gleaming liquid; every crease, every joint, every nook its own special disaster. It’s only when I got to the bottom of the second cup holder that I realized that my Bluetooth headset, the finely tuned, military grade, $120 piece of hardware that it is had been at the bottom of this devil’s brew. With some intense cleaning, it would probably work again… but I don’t have the fortitude to put it in my ear knowing the horrors it’s been through. With the truck cleaned as best I could with the roll of paper towels and some generic spray cleaner I’ve always carried under the back seat, we managed to get back on the road after about thirty minutes. That’s pretty good time considering how often I had to stick my head out the window to keep my own gagging from becoming something much worse.
Thinking to myself, we’re back on track, things will be fine now. I was just outside of Nashville now and again making good time. I began to allow myself to hope again and this was apparently my second mistake of the day… and just seconds before the next shower of feces-filled vomit was deposited, this time on the passenger side floor mat. Thanks be to God for the heavy duty rubberized type that can be sprayed off. By this point, I was out of paper towels, out of cleaner, and basically out of options… It was go/no go for the rest of the drive. I could turn back three hours into the trip, regroup, recover, and reset for another try on Sunday or I could press on in the hopes that there couldn’t possibly be more left where the first two rounds had been. I rolled the dice and got lucky this time.
The rest of the drive was an uneventful trip along the Eisenhower Interstate Highway System… Except for the windows being down in the bitter cold of a Tennessee morning. And the smell; that terrible smell that I fear I’ll never forget.
Now, I should pause here to point out that Winston absolutely must travel in his kennel. He’s all nerves, shedding, and slobber when he doesn’t have that security. Since he’s been riding in a kennel since just after he came home, I wanted to make sure that Maggie was a little more acclimated to riding commando on those long trips. Quite frankly a cage big enough for her inside the cab of the truck is simply out of the question, so I covered the passenger seat with an old sheet and we should have been good to go. Of course this wasn’t destined to be a normal day.
By this point we’re an hour and a half into the drive, darkness is still heavy on the face of the firmament and that’s when I hear the unmistakable sound of a dog about to heave. Having had most of a cup of coffee, I had the good sense to get on the brake and start wheeling towards the shoulder so I could face whatever was coming at a much lower rate of speed and with most of my attention. I heard the splash and almost simultaneously was hit broadside by the most disturbing, pungent aroma that I’d ever personally experienced. That’s right… Liquefied, partially digested, dog poo projectile vomit. Without even the benefit of light, I knew what had happened… but nothing prepares you for the first awful moment of light in a world gone mad. My sweet, darling lab had tossed on the seat, on the dash, and across the center console. My initial thought was an overwhelming need to clean… which was followed in short order by the overwhelming need to keep myself from blowing chunks all over the other side of the truck.
With all the fortitude I could muster, I set about the task of cleaning as best I could. The sheet had saved the seat, Armor All had mostly saved the dash, but the center console took the worst of it… The cup holders and ashtray full to the brim with brown gleaming liquid; every crease, every joint, every nook its own special disaster. It’s only when I got to the bottom of the second cup holder that I realized that my Bluetooth headset, the finely tuned, military grade, $120 piece of hardware that it is had been at the bottom of this devil’s brew. With some intense cleaning, it would probably work again… but I don’t have the fortitude to put it in my ear knowing the horrors it’s been through. With the truck cleaned as best I could with the roll of paper towels and some generic spray cleaner I’ve always carried under the back seat, we managed to get back on the road after about thirty minutes. That’s pretty good time considering how often I had to stick my head out the window to keep my own gagging from becoming something much worse.
Thinking to myself, we’re back on track, things will be fine now. I was just outside of Nashville now and again making good time. I began to allow myself to hope again and this was apparently my second mistake of the day… and just seconds before the next shower of feces-filled vomit was deposited, this time on the passenger side floor mat. Thanks be to God for the heavy duty rubberized type that can be sprayed off. By this point, I was out of paper towels, out of cleaner, and basically out of options… It was go/no go for the rest of the drive. I could turn back three hours into the trip, regroup, recover, and reset for another try on Sunday or I could press on in the hopes that there couldn’t possibly be more left where the first two rounds had been. I rolled the dice and got lucky this time.
The rest of the drive was an uneventful trip along the Eisenhower Interstate Highway System… Except for the windows being down in the bitter cold of a Tennessee morning. And the smell; that terrible smell that I fear I’ll never forget.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Complete lack of interest…
As I’m writing this, I am vaguely aware that the Super Bowl is being played in Florida… But I have to confess that I am suffering from a complete lack of interest. I tuned in for the halftime show mainly because I’ve always harbored a quiet appreciation for Springsteen, but other that I’ve been back in the office sorting through a stack of mail and (gasp) starting to organize my tax information for the accountant. So basically for this super Sunday, I’ve gone to PetSmart and the supermarket, picked up and disposed of a weeks’ worth of mail, made some very tasty spaghetti and meat sauce for dinner, and been working on a few odds and ends on the computer to round out the evening. That the “biggest game of the year” is on seems to have been barely a blip on my radar. Everyone else seems to be making a deal out of it… But I’m just not there. Is there some kind of switch that people throw to get motivated about this sort of thing?
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