Calm before the storm, language, and other stuff

Junior's coming home.

After three months living our in Seattle, he is headed back home this evening. He has the one direct flight from Sea-Tac to IAH, which, unfortunately, lands in Houston around 2357 (that's 11:57 PM for you non-regs). This is the same flight we took home back in June and we did not get back to the house until 0130. I'm looking at a late night for moi and I will still have to go into the office tomorrow (something about more project testing). Of course, once he hits the ground, the fun begins. Plans are to head north to Austin next Saturday to move into his apartment & get ready for school, so this should be an interesting week ahead.

Speaking of my project, I got a funny observation Friday. Among all of the things I am doing to prepare for this system upgrade, one of my other jobs is to train the rest of the production group on what the new system will look like and how to use it. Spent the last three days conducting training sessions to demonstrate the new system. Basically it was numerous 2 hour workshops on how to use the new features. I consider myself decent when it comes to public speaking. I've been a Toastmaster before so I am comfortable speaking to groups of people, but doing back-to-back sessions over several days is not my favorite hobby. As you teach the subject over & over, you become more relaxed with your groups and you tend to slip into a more casual role and can have more fun with your audience. Where am I going with this? Well, in my Friday class, I was halfway through my spiel when one of the participants (a director) handed me a scrawled note that said (and I quote):

Please do not say

crap
shit

Were in mixed company

Save a complaint

Now, I am an old Army guy and sometimes my language can be classified as "coarse" but I honestly do not remember saying SH*T in my sessions. CRAP, yes, but SH*T, no. I wasn't sure how to take this input (I don't think laughing would have made him happy) aside of smile and thank him for his observation. Now I'd like to note that, out of this "mixed company" class, there was one female engineer whom I know very well and she has a pretty extensive repertoire of non-PG13 language. And since when is CRAP an offensive word? If this is out of bounds, then I am guilty of far worse offenses.

So, to any & all sensitive readers whom I may have offended with my language, I would like to appologize right here. Oops. My bad.

Oops. I did it again.

%&*%&$#@

Ever spend a good 30-45 minutes on writing a blog?
Putting in all sorts of inciteful and witting things?
Some general musings and observations?
Even tossed in a couple of them big 10 dollar MBA words and some bad puns?
A picture or two?
And, just when it was about ready to let loose, you go back to clean it up and make a few format changes and, BAM! its gone. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Not even a comma or punctuation mark left.
Makes me want to start drinking again (or curse out the computer).

I guess I will have to dredge up a song in my head like some people do to keep from running over people on the way into work (Don't Worry. Be Happy!)

No foolin'

Sorry folks. Never took much stock in doing the April Fools gags/jokes. Guess I wasn't much of a prankster in my yout.


Of course the joke's on me lately. One of my new(er) sayings is:

Life's cheap.

It's the accessories that'll cost you.

Finally bite the bullet and took the land barge in for service at the dealer last weekend. I have been debating taking to the dealer as I figured it was going to run me 2x what a local shop would run, but it was showing some serious problems and I just did not want to trust it to my local Goodyear place. Finding a good, trustworthy mechanic that will not gouge you is almost like a leprechaun's gold. I was puckered up waiting to hear the bad news from the dealer when he called and told me it was just bad coil and needed new plugs/100k mile service. That little job was only going to run me $6-700! Surprisingly, I was happy to get that estimate. I was expecting something 2-3 times that in transmisstion repairs. But, alas, no good deed goes unpunished. I had them check the rear end while it was on the rack and my rear suspension is leaking. This is one of those automatic air suspensions that levels the truck when under a load (like hauling a trailer). Of course, those puppies don't come cheap to repair. Looks like my earlier estimate/fear will come true. I am waying my options at this point, but it looks like I will have to cowboy up for the repairs if I want to keep this rig for a while and be able to tow my trailer. I am old school (or like to think I am) when it comes to vehicle repairs - I prefer to do a lot of the maintenance/repairs myself. However, this job is beyond my capacity at this point and I need to have it fixed to prevent further damage/costs. I guess I should look on the bright side, she's paid for and I have a dependable mode of transportation (once the repairs are done).


Oh well, there goes my HD TV this year...

Poo patrol

In my younger days, there are a lot of things that I would have never considered doing (even on a dare). However, as you get older, life changes your outlook and things that were once considered beyond your limits become acceptable or almost routine.

One of those things I never imagined I'd be doing (willingly) is poo patrol. I've been reminiscing about my dog lately and, while I still miss his hairy snout and bad breath, I don't really miss picking up his warm "souvenirs" from our walks. When Shadow was still around, it became my job to walk him every day to take care of business. Twice a day - early in the morning before 0600 and again after I got home from work (and occasionally one more on weekends). Every time he never was at a loss for a contribution to the flora & fauna of the neighborhood. Of course, I tried to be a good neighbor and pick up his souvenirs (if possible), although there was one snarky (aka smart ass) neighbor who I was not quite so diligent on the retrieval process in his yard (I know, I'm gonna burn for that). Picking up poo is not something we did in our youth. Back in the 70s, our old dog (Peanuts) had the run of the neighborhood and we never gave it any thought to retrieving his contributions. It was when I got Shadow that somehow the responsibility gene kicked in and I began to take care of this detail. Even got special bags/implements to handle the process, but it still was a nasty process. I find it funny that, in my youth, I would have gagged over the prospect of this chore. But after having a child and handling a multitude of diaper episodes (I won't regale you with the diaper incident in the Summer of '88), I have learned to deal with a lot of things that would make a person gag/faint. In comparison, picking up dog poo was a walk in the park.

Now why am I reminiscing about this crap? I am still walking the block every day and last night I was contemplating how nice it was not to have to pick up doggy droppings (although, I would gladly do it again if he were still here).

Always drink upstream from the herd...

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid

!#$^!^#$&$&!&$!#

Sometimes you’re the bug, sometimes you’re the windshield.

It’s been a long, hard week (and it’s only Wednesday). I’m beginning to feel like a carnival ride that’s been to one too many fairs. Aside of the normal fire drills and problems, I am working several major projects at the office that are eating my lunch. The big one is a software update we are in the middle of that will convert our current material planning system over to the latest, state of the art system that will just about tell you when you run out of toilet paper. I’m glad/excited that we will finally have the new system (the current one was installed back before they had iPods) and it will definitely make life much better, but, getting a system installed & validated is a major hemorrhoid. We have to test and retest every single screen/menu/transaction of the system before we can go live and, since I am considered one of the super users, guess whose task it is to make this happen? This is going to take several months to convert and validate and I cannot let up on any of my normal assignment/chores. Needless to say, lots of late nights and weekends are in store for me and my team. My wife has noted that I am extra grumpy (irascible curmudgeon is the word she used) of late.

Sometimes you’re the nail, sometimes you’re the hammer.

Anyway, yesterday was no different. Lots of testing/problems, not making much headway, constant fire drills (IOW, typical day). Last night we took out one of our programmers that is down here helping re-write the code for dinner for Japanese food (Samurai Hibachi). Honestly, I was not really up for it and just wanted to go home to catch up on sleep, but I played the nice host and ate my share of sushi and tempura. Left late and was headed home around 8:00 pm. The drive from my office is about 35-40 minutes, depending upon traffic and it is normally a mindless commute. I was almost home (1/2 mile away) when some $*#&%$# turned in front of my truck forcing me to slow to avoid running over him. Kinda got a little po’d and decided to go around him even though my turn was coming up. Of course, as I passed him, he sped up so I had to gun it to make it past. As I moved over to make the turn, I noticed that a car was drafting me and followed me into the neighborhood as I made the turn (uh-oh). Of course, as I turned into the hood, the lights came on (oh, #$&%@^*%). Of course, I pulled over, turned on my flashers, turned off the truck, turned on the interior lights and dug out my license and insurance (been down this road before). Of course the cop came up to my window and asked the inevitable questions: Do you know the speed limit on XXX? Do you realize how fast you were going? Is there a reason for your urgency? Now, I could have lied or made excuses, but I have a morbid honest streak and I tend not to try and piss off any law enforcement, if at all possible. [Life Lesson #14: When stopped by a police/trooper/MP, act courteous, professional and respectful. NEVER mouth off to a cop.] I told him that, honestly, that there was no justifiable reason why I accelerated (aside of passing the other car) on the hopes he would appreciate my honesty, courtesy and respectful response and he did - right up to the point he gave me the ticket. Crap. I had kinda hoped to get off with a warning but no luck (Guess I should have showed him my legs). Great. Just what I frickin’ needed. Now I am looking at a court date and a possible $200 ticket. Will try to plea my case next month and may have to take defensive driving to get the ticket reduce. All for one stupid, careless moment.

Even though I ain’t happy, I cannot really complain. I am not a saint when it comes to driving and have been known to exceed the posted limit on occasion (especially on the toll road), so this is probably karma. Now, don’t get me wrong. I am not mad at the officer. He was doing his job and I would never fault him for giving me a ticket. Instead, I am more pissed at myself. Just like in December when I tripped and dislocated my shoulder, this one brief lapse of judgement will cost me time and money to resolve. Of course, there are many people out there in the ether with issues/headaches much worse than my little problems, so I am trying to be grateful, but it annoys me nonetheless. At least I have a truck to get a ticket in.

Sometimes you’re the dog, sometimes you’re the fire hydrant.