Hurricane Stacy Makes Landfall!

This week went by rather fast. I decided to check out Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby on Monday. Being a Will Ferrell fan, I thought I was in for a treat. It turned out a bit dull. There were funny moments, to be sure, but it was certainly no Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy. Will does his signature screaming act, which is funny at times. Throughout most of the movie, he comes off more like his George W. Bush character as a racecar driver. Sacha Baron Cohen (of Ali G and Borat fame) turned in a marvelous performance as Ricky Bobby’s arch-nemesis, the Frenchman Jean Gerard, who was married to Andy Richter’s Gregory. Yeah, try to flush an image of those two locking lips out of your head. Leslie Bibb played Ricky’s extremely hot, superficial, extremely hot wife, Carley Bobby. This being a rise-fall-rerise story, she doesn’t last long as his wife, but she’s still great screen candy. Gary Cole gives a standout performance as Ricky’s recalcitrant father, Reese. Mediocre performances by The Green Mile’s Michael Clark Duncan and John C. Reilly (who I saw most recently in A Prairie Home Companion but you may recognize from his supporting roles in movies like The Aviator, Chicago, Gangs of New York, or The Perfect Storm) rounded out the cast. There were a few other characters, but none worth noting further. The movie had possibilities, and maybe if I were a NASCAR fan I would have seen more, but it ultimately fell flat for me. If you still want to see this one, I would definitely wait for the DVD.

What's that you see on the horizon, Ricky? High DVD sales?

Stacy and the girls flew in on Tuesday. Unfortunately, Stacy came home to a house that changed little from when she left. The lawn was still only half done and I never got around to buying ¼ round to finish the floors. It seemed I only had enough energy to keep up with standard chores like laundry, dishes, and taking out the garbage for the past two weeks. Rather than going to a ton of movies the past two weeks, I should have been fixing things up and doing more housework. I was in the doghouse for that until the tidal wave of frustration hit the shores on Wednesday. With a good fight out of the way, Stacy came up with a plan for ensuring that we do an equal share of housework from now on. I have never been able to keep a real schedule. Any time I try to organize my life in such a way, I am able to adhere to it for a couple of days before I leave it behind. Stacy has drawn up a schedule that should account for housework, homework, and work, leaving room for family time. I am not optimistic, but I’m game. I can’t really complain, I was pretty lazy for the past two weeks.

Projected path of Hurricane Stacy

On the plus side, I did finally finish Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil on the PC. I had a long spiel written here about the game both in its tabletop and computer forms, then I realized that anyone reading this doesn’t really care. The short of it is that I had a good time seeing a well-crafted graphical representation of a place I had only seen on graph paper and heard described. I know that this doesn’t sound too impressive to non-RPGers (read: it sounds über-nerdy.) The only reason it is a noteworthy accomplishment to me is that I have started and restarted the game multiple times in the past. A very clunky interface made was almost a deal-breaker for me. Why take all the time to create a game so true to its roots and then screw it up on the interface level? I hope that 1) they keep making games along these lines and 2) they learn from their mistakes on this one.

Then I cast magic missile on the ogre!

Back to housework: Tuesday was the first day in the past two weeks that temperatures have not been in the 90’s by 11:00 AM. I finally got outside to finish the lawn. By this time much of the grass was above my waist. I waded to the shed for the mower. I felt like I should have been using a machete instead. Insect life of all kinds fled the light as I hauled open the door. There were spiders along the walls, crickets the size of my thumb hopping to the back of the shed, beetles running for the grass, and a mass of ants that would make your skin crawl. They did mine. The ants were centered on two rolls of trash bags. They happened to be the bags I had to use for grass clippings. I picked one up with the intention of shaking off the ants, but immediately dropped it. Underneath the bags was an entire ant colony. I know it was a colony because of the larvae all over the place. If I saw the queen, I would have called Brian down to stock his ant farm. She never showed up, though. I grabbed a couple of shots with my camera phone, then went inside for my camcorder. By the time I came back out, half the larvae were gone. The ants were scurrying about crazily, picking them up and ferrying them off to I-don’t-know-where. I’m assuming they’re living under the shed now. By the time I had some footage and went for the bug spray, the ants were all gone and only a few larvae remained. It was almost as if they were never there. Kinda creepy. I sprayed the crap out of the shed anyway. Damn ants.

All the black spots are ants, you can guess at the white spots

We have a tiny little electric mower that chokes at three-inch grass, so I had my work cut out for me. After a couple of swipes, it stopped working. I’m used to it jamming up, so I checked underneath; no jam. The circuit breaker on the mower wasn’t tripped either. Great, I thought, I’ve fried our mower. I trudged to the front where Stacy was using the carpet cleaner on the van. That had died too. Apparently, running the computer, fan, and clock radio upstairs at the same time as the carpet cleaner and lawn mower outside was too much for the 15 amp circuit. Go figure. I hit the breaker and got back to work. About an hour later, I had finished terrorizing all of the bugs in our yard and the grass was cut. I gave up on grass catching early on. I just let the grass fall where I cut it. I figure it will cover up the dirt between clumps of crabgrass in case of rain. That and I’m lazy. I’m also a fair-skinned, red haired bald man. Do you know what happens to fair-skinned, red haired bald men in two hours of direct sunlight? I’ll give you a hint, it’s lobsterific! To make matters worse, I was wearing a sweatband. Now I have a retarded halo of unburned skin around my head. I think I’ll leave you with that pleasant mental image. Good day.

Bachelors, Ex-Girlfriends, and Pirates. Oh my!

Week two of my forced bachelorhood is nearing its end. Stacy’s flight back starts Monday night, but ends Tuesday morning. So what have I accomplished with all of my free time? Nothing. Nothing productive, at least. I did get in some quality video game time, catch up on a bunch of recorded TV, hang out with my brother-in-law, and watch a bunch of movies. Doing the laundry and mowing half a lawn in the last week and a half is as productive as I have been. I’ll be getting to the rest of the lawn on Monday. Record temperatures kept me from doing lawn work this last week, that and my inherent laziness. It was all I could do most days hauling my butt out of bed before noon. Meh.

Jon and I went to My Super Ex-Girlfriend this week with my brother-in-law, Ryan. I have to admit that it was a lot better than I thought it would be. I was expecting a few laughs here and there, but I was not prepared to laugh as much and as hard as I did. Jon and Ryan seemed to enjoy it too. There was even a good dig at Utah in there. Being pretty self-deprecating anyway, I can take a good joke at the expense of the physical capital of the LDS religion. Utah does suck by many standards. Uma Thurman plays the psychotic ex-girlfriend a little too well, which added to the fun of the movie. Just imagine anything a crazy ex-girlfriend might do and then multiply that by a hundred. Hilarity ensued. Luke Wilson, the tolerable Wilson brother, played a decent straight man. I was a bit disappointed in his lack of adventurous spirit, though. Even with my fear of heights, I think even I would have enjoyed the triple F (free fall [expletive deleted].) Ah well, his attitude was more of a plot device than anything, so I can’t fault him too much. I was pleasantly surprised when Eddie Izzard made his entrance. I hadn’t done any research on the movie and didn’t know he was in it. I enjoy seeing Eddie in anything. If you haven’t seen it already, find a copy of Eddie Izzard: Dress to Kill. You will thank me or I will mock your sense of humor mercilessly. (I see at Amazon that Eddie has some more work that I need to check out.) Anna Faris was just kinda there. She didn’t add much to the experience. I can’t take her seriously after seeing her in Scary Movie and its many sequels. The show stealer was definitely Rainn Wilson of The Office fame. Far from his love-to-hate character of Dwight, he played Luke’s lecherous friend. His sage nuggets of man-wisdom were interrupted only by his chauvinistic pick-up attempts. Should you go see this? Definitely. It is one of those rare films that is fun to go see it with the guys or on a date with your better half. Just hope the latter doesn’t get any ideas for what to do to you if you dump her (or him, whatever.)

I went to see Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest with Ryan and a coworker of his last night. It was just as good the second time around. We went to the Manassas Cinemas to see it, which besides being only a couple of blocks away from home, is the only movie café nearby. I dig ordering dinner while watching a movie on the big screen. I recently spoke with Jamie about this movie and she, as she is wont to do, waxed crazy. “We didn’t like it. There weren’t enough fight scenes.” Awuh? Lessee, I counted four fight scenes, one of which was the most fantastic feat of fight choreography I have ever seen. For those sad few of you that haven’t see the movie, let me just ask you to imagine a three-way sword fight taking place on top of and inside a runaway mill water wheel. Sound cool? It is. That is not including the two (or three, depending how you count them) fantastic scenes battling the [spoiler deleted]! The surprise ending was a stroke of genius. Not only did it end the movie with a marvelous flourish, it made me really excited for the trilogy finale. Then there is the fact that it’s about pirates, and there’s nothing better than pirates.

And, since you can’t top pirates, I think I’ll draw this entry to a close.

Stacy A-Go-Go

I promised to share Stacy’s traveling woes with you a few days ago, so here you are. First, let me make her situation clear. She was flying Delta out of Dulles with three little girls, ages 5 years, 2 years, and 7 months. She had three car seats, one large bag for clothes, one smaller bag for leftover items, one carry-on backpack, and a stroller to gate-check. To say she had her hands full would be a woeful understatement.

The porter I hired to carry bags didn’t show up

Thankfully, she was able to use the sky cap to check in the luggage and car seats, but that left her with a backpack, a baby strapped to her front, and a double stroller with two willful little girls. Her flight would take her to Salt Lake for a three-hour layover before continuing on to Boise, ID.

Boise, world capital of, um, well, nothing at all

Nicole was to pick up Stacy from Boise and they would make the drive to Portland together. Odd travel plan, but the money they saved on the flights made the difference between driving and flying straight to Oregon.

Stacy and the girls made it on to the airplane with no problems. The first leg of the journey went off without a hitch. It wasn’t until she got to Salt Lake and found out that her flight to Boise had been cancelled that the fun really began. She had already planned to have lunch with her dad during her layover, since he works in Salt Lake. Now, it appeared she would be spending the night at his place with the girls, because the airline did not have another flight out until the next day. To make matters worse, the airline could not locate her large bag with all of the clothes in it (plus our nice digital camera and the power cable to my laptop!)

Poor luggage, lost out there, all alone

All Stacy had was the car seats and a bag with no clothes. In such situations, Delta has a policy to furnish stranded passengers with necessities, such as diapers for babies and the like. They did not do this.

Bare baby bum, not safe for the Internet

Stacy swung a deal to have Delta fly her and the girls out to Portland the following evening rather than force Nicole to make the trip to Boise twice. Nicole was having her own adventure. She was half way to Boise when Stacy called. While she was thankful she didn’t have to drive the whole way and that Stacy would be coming into Portland, she was also stranded. She forgot to fill up the gas tank on her trip and found herself unable to get home. After calling her husband to pick her up, she sat in the van with her kids and watched movies on the DVD player. Little did she realize that by the time Ryan arrived, the battery in the van would be completely dead from the drain of the DVD player. One gas tank and a long battery-charging jump later, she drove home with very few words passing between her and Ryan.

Ryan’s cold shoulder may have been a little excessive

Meanwhile in Utah, Stacy and the girls were having a grand time with grandparents. The next morning, Stacy called Delta to find her bags. Delta still had nothing to offer. Stacy found out that Delta would replace up to $1000.00 worth of items from the bag, so she should keep receipts for any replacement purchases. However, they specifically stated that they do not replace cameras. Great.

Do you know how long I had to save up for that? That’s top of the line!

Stacy’s flight to Oregon was exhausting, but without mishap. Ryan was waiting at the airport for her when he heard a call over the intercom for Vicki to come to the baggage claim. Wondering why our 5 year old would be getting paged, he responded and found that not only had they located Stacy’s bag, but had delivered it to Portland. Odd, considering Stacy’s flight plan never hit Portland until after they lost the bag. Stacy and the girls arrived safely, found all of the luggage, and made the trip to Ryan and Nicole’s without any more problems.

Now Nicole is a couple of sizes bigger and drugged while Stacy is corralling all of the children until Nicole recovers. After that, watch out Portland!

Quasi-bachelorhood, Sweaty Work, Screaming Slugs, Overweight Houses, and More Sweaty Work

Monday found me spending the morning with Stacy and the girls at Dr. Jim’s Emporium of Back Ache, Neck Injurie, Spine Crackyng, and All Natyral Remedys. Stacy wanted to get in a good session of spine crackyng before she and the girls made the arduous journey to Portland, OR. Stacy will be there for her friend’s life (and breast)-altering surgery. I say good on her. If you don’t have much to begin with and adding somewhat will make you feel good about yourself, then get implants by all means. With her husband going to school full time, she won’t have much help around the house with her three little boys. This is where my wife comes in, with her three little girls. So what you actually have now instead of an invalid with three boys is an invalid, three boys, three girls, and my wife. Lucky her. More on her traveling travails later.

Don't worry, she's used to traveling!

In the meantime, I have been plunged back into quasi-bachelorhood. As I’ve said before, I am a boring bachelor. Not only do I not do any of the “fun” things other bachelors do, I don’t do any of the “fun” things other people in general do. My idea of a wild time is catching a double feature at the movies. Wooooo! That being said, my next two weeks will most likely involve puttering around the house while I try to finish up projects that have been waiting forever.

I've really got to finish that living room!

One such project is the yard. It’s amazing what weeds will do when left to their own devices as we vacation, recuperate from minor surgery, sit on our lazy asses, etc. I made some good headway today, but was cut short when my lawnmower got so hungry that it decided to perform some self-cannibalism. Either that, or the rubber piece that smooves down the grass before cutting suddenly became suicidal. It went right under the blade, metal mounting rod and all. I decided that since I had already sweated out my first two bottles of water and I still had a service project to attend later, I would stop for the day.

Foreground: Mowed, Background: Overtaken by the Verge

I’ve seen a few trailers for Monster House over the last couple of months and thought I’d preview it to see if Stacy could take Vicki. Unbeknownst to me, the theater I chose was showing the 3D version. Bonerus! I sat through the usual batch of kid movie previews and was surprised at how entertained I was at the trailer for Dreamwork’s Flushed Away. The screaming slugs just put it over the top for me. Although Nick Park (the feller what does the Wallace and Gromit) has nothing to do with it, it is an Aardman Animation production. The animation looks like computerized versions of Park’s work. There’s a short clip of one slug below, but the big one is at the end of the full trailer. Check it out here.

The movie itself wasn’t bad. I certainly wouldn’t take Vicki to see it, though. Just the first 15 minutes would give her nightmares for months. The animation was done Polar Express-style with motion capture suits on the original actors. The cast list is impressive, including Steve Buscemi, Catherine O’Hara, Fred Willard, Maggie Gyllenhal, Jason Lee, Kevin James, Nick Cannon, Jon Heder, and Kathleen Turner. Everyone did a fantastic job. The big payoff is when you find out that a former circus sideshow “giantess” (which is a nice way of saying, “she’s as big as a house”) is responsible for the haunting.

Oddly enough, she didn't sing

I polished off the day with a couple of hours helping a lady from the church. Apparently, the church has been helping her remodel her home after a bunch of unfortunate flooding accidents. I worked mainly on some drywall with a sprinkling of electrical work. I also could have filled another couple of buckets with sweat. I don’t know if it is the humidity or just me, but I have been perspiring like a perforated swine.

Because I've mentally scarred you with this talk about sweat, here's a picture of sexy Halle Berry in sweats. Feel better?

There Go My Dreams of Winning the Indy 500

Red Hat class is over. I am not sure if I’ll be attending RH300 in a couple of weeks or in October yet. Class was pretty good. I had a better grip on the information this time around than in my last class, but I still feel unprepared for another test.

A fun thing happened on the way home from class on Wednesday, though. As soon as I started the car, the engine rumbled to life a few decibels higher than usual. No big deal, it sounded a little more throaty, like I had a cold-air intake on the engine. By the time I made it home, it sounded like I had a sports car with a coffee-can-sized muffler. I shrugged and figured I’d let the mechanic take a look at it next week. The next morning, about ¾ of the way to Red Hat training, I shifted from 3rd to 4th gear and it sounded like I had left my exhaust on 495. I checked my rear view mirror to watch the carnage as rush hour traffic swerved to avoid the debris, but there was none. That didn’t stop the engine from deafening me, though. Where before the car sounded like it had some aftermarket exhaust work done, now it sounded like I was front-row at the Indy 500. I made it to Red Hat and texted Stacy the good news after my teeth stopped rattling. Just what she needed on her birthday, right? Oh, did I mention that she was due for a root canal in the afternoon, too? Yeah. Great birthday. Anyway, my drive home involved me slouched down in the seat as every person I passed glared at me until I was out of earshot.

“Mommy, why is that car so loud?”
“Because the prick driving is an inconsiderate jerk, honey. Let’s give the bad man dirty looks until he goes away.”

I kept waiting for a cop to pull me over for the noise, but I lucked out. Once my hearing returned, I thought I’d give Stacy the thrill of pretending she was in an F1 racer and let her drive the car to the mechanic. As she drove ahead of me, I noticed that the pipe that leads from the catalytic converter to the muffler was dangling. Rust had eaten clean (dirty, actually) through where the pipe met the converter. I guess that would explain the extra noise and the new soothing rumble seat feature! Stacy looked like she had just gotten off a death-dealing bad carnival ride. I went inside to hand over the keys while she tried to stop her whole body vibrating. I figured with over 100k miles on the converter that it had finally given up the ghost.

Update: I just heard from Stacy. Turns out the catalytic converter is fine, it’s just the pipe that connects to it that needs replacing. 100k+ miles and that converter is still converting. I love that car.

Secondary Thoughts on Superman Returns

Well, Superman Returns has been out for a couple of weeks. As promised, here are more of my thoughts on the movie. Be warned, spoilers abound below.

Superman Returns had good, bad, and elements that were both good and bad (further known as “gad.”) It’s been a couple of weeks, so I figure anyone who reads this and intends to see the movie already has. For those of you that haven’t, spoilers follow.

The Good:

• Flashback to young Clark discovering his powers as he runs and jumps through the Kansas cornfields, ultimately falling out of control to the barn floor, but not landing


• Homage to the cover Action #1 when Supes lowers a runaway Ford Mustang to the ground


• Homage to Man of Steel when Supes rescues an out-of-control space shuttle and airplane with Lois Lane aboard


• Supes outracing said plane after it lost its wings, catching it on the nose cone, stopping it with the power of his flight just inches from the ground in a full sports stadium, then gently lowering it to rest


• Various scenes portraying Supes flying through Metropolis as its citizens look up in awe. This is reminiscent of the citizens in the comics that are safe and secure in the knowledge that Supes is watching over them and are used to seeing him flying through the streets


• Television footage of Supes fighting everyday crime in convenience stores, banks, etc


• Supes floating above the Earth and just listening until he hears a crime. Not only does this showcase his devotion to fighting crime, but it gives a little bit of insight to what it would be like to be able to hear everything all of the time. Plus, the visual with the cape billowing in zero-G was cool


• Supes walking up to a full-sized chain-gun on full auto until it runs out of ammo, after which, gunman closes the distance and shoots Supes point blank in the eye. Does Supes flinch or even blink? No, he takes the bullet straight to the eye, it deforms from the impact and falls to the ground, harmless. Both the thug and Supes take a moment to watch the bullet fall


• Supes takes Lois up above the city for an object lesson on why the world needs Superman. “What do you hear?” “I don’t hear anything.” “I hear everything. You say the world doesn’t need a savior but everyday I hear them crying out for one.”


• Lex gets out of jail because Supes doesn’t show up for Lex’s parole hearing


• Supes flies on his back and lays down a broad beam of heat vision to take out falling debris and save the people on the ground


• The Daily Planet globe’s slow fall and ultimate catch by Supes, who then lays it to rest gently on a Volvo

The Bad:

• Oh, where to start? Crystals, that’s where. Everything to do with Krypton crystals should not have been there. What a horrible plot device. By extension, most of the movie was bad


• Crystal-based Krypton sucks, as does the sterile environment of the crystal-based Fortress of Solitude


• Lex Luthor was the old land-grabbing kook from the original Donner films. Why? Why not the xenophobic business tycoon that carried on a personal vendetta against Supes through many years of the comics? Why not the man that was so charismatic, he became the US President before his treachery was revealed?


• Cyclops as Lois Lane’s love interest. Not nearly as annoying as he was in the X-Men movies, but lame nonetheless.


• The homage to the first Donner film with Supes outracing a natural disaster to save thousands while Lois, this time with bastard son and annoying fiancé, sinks to her death. Still an earthquake, but this time it hit Metropolis, and this time Lois is drowning in water instead of earth. At least Supes didn’t have to travel back in time to save her this time.


• The Boy. I can’t express the amount of my dismay at The Boy. First, they make Supes and Lois parents of a bastard child. This is the most morally-straight man on the planet. His scruples have scruples, he’s so righteous. Yet they portray him as someone that has not only had premarital sex, but has fathered an illegitimate child. Second, they foreshadow that The Boy is really Supes’ son by laying on the health maladies so thick that The Boy shouldn’t even be walking. Third, when The Boy does exhibit his super-strength, he uses it to kill a man. The Boy is already a killer at five years of age. Fourth, when given not only the opportunity, but the motive to use his powers again, The Boy sits on the floor playing with olives. Gah! The Boy!


• Superman becomes Superstalker. Would the man who holds principles as dear as Supes use his X-Ray vision and Super Hearing to spy on Lois and her family? I think not


• Superman drinks beer. COME ON


• Supes leaves the planet for five years without telling anyone why. Weak


• Constant focus on Luthor’s thug’s “eyes on the back of his head” tattoo. It was a dumb joke and repeated display only makes it worse


• Supes gay costume. The “S” shield was too small, his hotpants were too small, there shouldn’t be an “S” on his belt buckle, there shouldn’t be “S”s on the backs of his heels, there should be a yellow “S” shield on the back of his cape, the blue and red in his costume should have been brighter. In other words, his costume should have looked like this:

The Gad:

• In the context of the bad, some of the elements of the movie were good. Lex using a crystal encased in kryptonite to create a continent laced with the only thing Supes is vulnerable to is one of those things. The crystals are bad, but the concept was cool


• Lois uttering the Freudian slip, “I did Superman!” in response to being assigned Supes as an article subject. Said joke reinforced by the snickering of Olsen


• Lex causing massive EMPs everytime he uses a crystal in water


• Supes using his heat vision to punch a hole underground and lifting the entire Krypton continent into space, regardless of the kryptonite that is growing out of the bottom


• Supes pulling half a yacht out of the water to save Lois and her family, then dropping the yacht as they hang on to him. Powerful image


• Luthor’s thug playing the piano with The Boy. The Boy shouldn’t have existed, but since he did, it was kinda cool


• Lois doing what Lois would have done, brazenly entering Luthor’s yacht to track down a story even with The Boy in tow

There is more, much more, but now I am down to minutiae and I’m running out of items. My conclusion? Go see the movie if you haven’t already and make your own decision on the merits of the movie. It was not as bad as I thought it would be, but obviously, I still have some issues with quite a few of the concepts. Still, nothing compares with seeing Superman in action on the big screen.

Idiocy, Wooly Instructors, Hot Canadians, and Not-So-Hot Receptionists

So I'm an idiot. I really need to learn how to read. For example, the class in which I am now sitting, RH253, is not a five-day course with a test during the last day. It is a four-day course with an optional test in which I could enroll. I would know that if I had read the friggin' Web site where I found the course in the first place. I could sign up for the test at the end of the week and try for my Technician and Engineer certification now, but I don't think I'll be doing that. There is another course, RH300, which reviews information from both the RH133 (the test I failed) and this course, followed by the tech/engineer test. That one runs from July 31 to August 4. I'll be signing up for that one. With the abysmal scores I got on the RH133 exam, I need as much review as possible.

My embarassing senior picture. Man am I glad I got rid of the side-fro!

Unlike Jon, it seems I lucked out in class this week. Number one, my class is not facilitated by Jabba the Hutt. Rather, it is being led by a man that bears more than a striking resemblance to Wooly Willy. I never really made the connection in my first two courses taught by him, but now that I have, I can't look at him the same. Don't get me wrong, he's a great instructor and a very interesting person. We've had a few good conversations during breaks.

Hi! My name is Willy. We're gonna learn all about Red Hat today!

The other good thing about class this week is the guy/girl ratio. There aren't a lot of people in this course, just 9 enrolled and eight actually attending, but two of them are girls. One is a techie from way back, she's been using Unix for over 13 years. She is what you would expect someone like that to look like, hair pulled back in a pony tail, no make up, t-shirt and jeans, nothing special. The girl sitting behind me, however, is much easier on the eyes. She's from Canada (she's already thrown out an “aboot” for us,) and is very cute. She has short, curly hair and a pixie-ish face. I mention this only because I have never been to such a technical course that is attended by any woman above the attractive level of a Polish babushka that doesn't believe in shaving her mustache. So, it looks like I have Canada to thank for this one. They can make a few things right Up North.

Blame Canada

The cute chick in class makes up for the letdown I felt when I passed the other office on this floor on the way to the bathroom. Jon had me all prepped for a hot receptionist down the hall. Not so much. What was sitting behind the reception desk was very greasy, from her hair to her shiny face. Maybe I caught her at a bad moment and she'll freshen up to beauty, but I couldn't help but think of Soul-Glo as I walked by.

Just let your soul glo!

On that note, I'll get back to class. I finished the last lab and lunch about an hour early, so I can already tell how fast this week will go by, which is to say, not at all.

Update:

Apparently, the receptionist I saw this morning was just the morning person. That, or she changed clothes, got a dye job, and drastic reconstructive facial surgery because now, there is a decidedly hot blonde sitting behind the desk showing off an amount of decolletage of which I definitely approve. I may be making some more trips to the bathroom. Eh? Eh? Nudge, nudge, wink, wink! A nod's as good as a wink to a blind bat, eh? Eh?

Jon's a Right Bastard and Overheard Nerds Suck

Here I am, sitting at work alone. This is my first weekend back, and Jon has the first two days of it in Red Hat training. I don’t mind. I could ask for help, but the work is just busy enough to keep me going. What I do mind is Jon’s revenge. As he’s pointed out in numerous posts on his blog, we work in an operations center filled to brimming with nerds. Nerds like to talk. In general, the way nerds talk is very annoying, especially to people that have no interest in what the nerds are talking about. I feel for Brian, having to sit through conversation after conversation between Jon and myself on the topic of comic books. It’s no wonder he jumped at the chance to move desks (okay, he didn’t exactly jump, it was more like he got dragged kicking and screaming.) I recently pointed out the voice of one of the annoying nerds that never really got to Jon in the past while he mentioned a few that have. It is way too easy to hear them all when sitting alone at the desk. I feel surrounded by the inane chatter of nerds that know absolutely everything about anything. All of the annoying ones are here today, too. Not only the one I pointed out to Jon, but each other one he’s pointed out himself. Thanks, Jon. Your revenge on me is tenfold.

Not only that, but, and I hope I’m not stealing any thunder here, Jon proved his nerdish superiority over me in Red Hat today. He passed the mandatory portion of the Red Hat Certified Technician test today and may have even passed the second portion. This would make him one of the few people from the NOC that passed the test the first time round. I hope he made it, the bastard. Them’s some good NOC nerd bragging rights there.

Pain in my Ass Pt. 3 and Food

Since I got a comment asking how my ass was doing, I thought I'd share with the whole class. I was doing fine up until today. I think the top stitch has become infected. I'm going in for my follow-up appointment on Monday, so we'll see what the doctor says. The short of it is, my ass is a pain in my ass. In an unrelated note, I have been cooking a lot lately. As I mentioned before, I found my inner chef a few weeks ago and have been enjoying work in the kitchen since then. One of the things I have noticed from watching Food Network, which I do often, is that the chefs, no matter how simple the meal, always devote some time to presentation. I realized that my family never did. We'd put hot pads down and put the pot or pans of food on it with a big spoon or fork for serving. Everyone would dig in a la buffet. Since working more in the kitchen, I have started to take some pride in my presentation. It is certainly amateurish, but I am happy with the way some of my dishes have turned out. I'm thinking of snapping some pics of them and posting my meal creations here. I'll see if I can make another pretty meal and remember to take a picture before I eat it. Tonight, Stacy and I made Grilled Raspberry Thyme Chicken on a bed of fresh spinach, cantaloupe, and raspberries with a homemade raspberry vinaigrette dressing. Side dishes included Rustic Cheddar Mashed Potatoes and Southwest Biscuits. It was very tasty.

Broadband Ho

I love Broadband Internet service. I have missed Broadband these last three days. None of this “absence makes the heart grow fonder.” My heart could not grow fonder than it already is of Broadband. I might as well marry it, I love it so damn much. Stacy and the good Commonwealth of Virginia might take offense to that, so I will carry on my illegitimate romance with Broadband on the sly. I thought Scott was going to have to choke a B@#$% in the last few days though. Broadband left without a word. Broadband didn’t even say how long Broadband would be gone. Broadband just left. I’m no fool. I know I’m not Broadband’s only liaison. I called Broadband’s pimp to find out where the heck Broadband went. Comcast was clueless as usual. I tell you what, if I was Comcast, I’d pay more attention to where my hoes at, nawamean? Anyway, Comcast sends out an in-home tech to investigate Broadband’s absence. He finds out that Broadband ditched my neighbors at the pedestal. The ho was out all over. So the in-home tech tells me that maintenance has to fix the problem. That’s when I saw the uprooted trees in the park area behind my house. Did Broadband get jacked in one of the rain storms? Was my illicit love brought down in the prime of life by a natural disaster? I may never know. Maintenance comes and goes without a word, they are beholden to no one. After another day of no Broadband, I call the pimp back again. They tell me that maintenance came out and put Broadband back out on the corner. Oh, so it’s gonna be like that is it? Broadband’ll whore out to my neighbors but won’t come back to the one that really loves Broadband? The pimp sends maintenance back out the next day. They don’t find a thing wrong. Broadband is still at the pedestal, giving it up for the neighbors. The pimp says it’ll send out another in-home tech to check out why Broadband wasn’t giving me the love. That’s not going to happen for another few days, though. My wife, who loves Broadband almost as much as I do (sometimes we use Broadband at the same time, yeah, we’re kinky like that) even threatened to switch to DSL Broadband, the “daytime” Broadband. The pimp don’t care, though. We go out to run errands, safe in the knowledge that we would be without Broadband for days. I even jacked in at Panera Bread to get my fix, but the Broadband there just isn’t the same. We come home and turn on the TV, just to see if the pimp has worked some mojo on the sly. There it was, picture as clear as day. I flipped open my laptop to see if Broadband had come back and there was Broadband, whispering sweet nothings straight into my eyes. Aw yeah, I knew you couldn’t stay away for long, Broadband. You had to get you a piece of this lovin’ didntchoo? Don’t you leave again, Broadband, else I’m gonna have ta give you five across the eyes, hear me?

Post Eaten by MS Word. Scientists Baffled

I posted an entry the day after my surgery. It wasn't much, but it isn't here. I posted through the Blogger plug-in for MS Word, which seems to have a flaky log-in component. I think I've got it down now, though.

Nothing really much to say. I was drugged (still am, actually) at the time and just popped in to tell everyone that it went swimmingly. No more pilonidal cyst. Unfortunately, the surgeon stitched me back up. This makes for a shorter recovery time (7 to 10 days) but gives me a 50% chance of another pilonidal cyst in the future. I don't like those odds, but it is my own fault for not specifying how I wanted the surgeon to perform the operation. I don't know why, but it seemed presuming of me to tell him how to do his job. In hindsight, I should have ignored that feeling and told him anyway.

Funny story, when telling my wife what I had done, my five-year-old girl will bend over double, showing her rear. She motions over her behind with both hands and says, "They took daddy's parts out of here." Kids say the darndest things, don't they? I'm just waiting for Stacy to tell me that Vicki illustrated my surgery in the middle of church.

I've been up and about a bit too much for the past two days. I am going to be out on my duff for the next couple of days to try to recover a little faster. Whether that means that you will see more inanity or not remains to be, uh, seen.

Initial Thoughts on Superman Returns

It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.

I'm going to avoid spoilers and try to keep it brief. The acting was pretty good. The action was spectacular. The individual sequences were directed and filmed well. The story sucked. A lot of the characters should not have been who they were, even though the actors portraying them did a good job. As Jon was so kind to point out here, the film seemed to be a morally debasing homage to Richard Donner, director of the first Superman film starring Christopher Reeve. That aside, Routh wasn't half bad; neither was Bosworth. Jon also pointed out something funny about them. Both of them are younger than their counterparts on Smallville, Tom Welling and Erica Durance. I could tell that Kevin Spacey had a great time aping Gene Hackman. James Marsden wasn't nearly as annoying as he is when playing Cyclops, but he still shouldn't have been in the movie. Frank Langella did a fair Perry White. The rest of the cast? Meh. I may post my thoughts on particular story elements in a few weeks after more people have had a chance to watch the movie.

On that note, I am off to bed. Surgery tomorrow, wish me luck.

Oh yeah, his costume was supergay.

Once More Around the Bend

That’s two floods and counting. Last night I went downstairs to check on our impromptu drain cover (a sink drain cover flipped upside down) only to find, to my dismay, that the even more water was leaking through the back door. I had gone down in time enough to stop it from spreading as far this time. Stacy ran down stairs to the sound of my shouted exclamation, “Crap!” Yeah, I’m pretty boring when it comes to curses. Even though it had not spread as far, it seemed like there was more water this time. I was about to open the door to unclog the drain when Stacy serendipitously stopped me. She went outside via the deck door to unclog the drain in case we let more water in by opening the basement door. Lucky she did, because the water was backed up about six inches from the ground, a good four inches above the bottom of the door.


My hotels and diner were ruined! And how did all these people get into my basement?
Stacy unclogged the drain and opened the door. Crisis averted, right? Wrong. After the water got about an inch below the bottom of the door, it stopped draining. The drain wasn’t clogged, though. While I was busily siphoning water out of the carpet, Stacy went into the laundry room across the basement. “Water!” was the next thing I heard. It turns out our sump pump had stopped pumping sump. The three foot well it was in had filled to the brim and just started leaking out onto the floor. My heart sank. It looked like we were in for a nasty flood no matter what we did. The carpet cleaner could only siphon about a gallon of water in five minutes. With the drain and the sump backing up, there was no way we could keep up.


Artist’s depiction of Scott’s broken sump pump
Stacy used the hose attachment to start draining the sump well while I put in an emergency call to her dad. We were sure he would have some good advice. Unfortunately, he could suggest little else beyond getting a new pump and a shop vac as soon as possible. I figured that I’d have to take the pump out to figure out what to buy anyway, so I reached into the water and pulled on the handle. Just as I jostled it, it kicked on. Water began draining out of the sump well faster than you could say, “It works!” which is what I said. As soon as the sump well started draining, so did the back drain. Apparently, it routed straight to the sump well. I also discovered where the sump pump drains, which has me slightly concerned. The steps down to our basement are dug into the earth and reinforced with concrete. This leaves a space of about four feet between the rest of the ground and the deck above. That space is filled with white landscaping rocks and our air conditioner. There is also a pvc pipe jutting from the wall that drains directly into the rocks. As I was working on the carpet after the sump pump crisis, I heard that pipe draining. It turns out the water from the sump well dumps out right there into the rocks.


If you look reeeaaaly closely, you can see the little white rocks
The best I can figure, the builders installed some sort of drainage tiles and the water runs off into the storm drains. Either that, or it contributes to the swamp that is our backyard. If that is the case, then once we reach total saturation, then there is no where for all of the water in our backyard to go but down the stairs, into the drain, back into the sump pump, rinse, repeat, flood. Here’s hoping I won’t be writing a third flood entry.

Unrelated Note Dept.

Stacy called Jon this morning and strong-armed him into seeing Superman Returns with me at a 10:00 PM showing tonight. Apparently the theaters figure that as long as the movie ends after midnight, it is still technically opening on the next day. I wasn’t planning on seeing the movie anytime soon because I have my surgery for the pilonidal cyst tomorrow. I’ll be effectively laid out for the next 7 to 10 days. Jon wasn’t going to see the movie because it stands against everything he knows and loves. Well, everything he knows and loves about Superman, at least. Not one to be deterred, Stacy convinced him to accompany me tonight. She figures I need a night out before I am bed-ridden. I am not going to argue. I’ll leave my thoughts on the movie in my next post.


So gay

And I Wanted to Look Up a Water Sprinkler Supply Store, too!

What kind of genius runs Yellow Book? I’m just asking, because I’m pretty sure that someone possessing a standard level of intelligence in wet weather conditions like say, oh I don’t know, the Flash Flood Warning we’re currently under in Manassas would know that it isn’t a good idea to set out new phone books with no weather proofing. It does not appear that Yellow Book employs people of such brilliance.

Like my ego after bashing an unsuspecting delivery-person on an unread blog, the phone book swelled twice its original size.

Soccer Sucks

WHOOOOOAAAAAA!

That was the sound that literally made me jump minutes ago. Some guy in shorts kicked a ball into a net. Yay. Sports fans will forever mystify me. From where does your obsession with men and balls come? I’m not even making a gay joke here, I really don’t understand. What does that GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL signify in the scheme of things? So the team that you root for, composed of people that just happen to live in the same country, just happens to kick a ball into a net. So what? What did that gain you? What did that gain anyone? Please don’t try to dress any reply up in patriotism. Sports have nothing to do with patriotism. Athletic people are born everywhere. Their existence in a particular country’s team is part of the genetic lottery. It has nothing to do with the country or its ideals. I am fuming just sitting here listening to the sports nerds spouting off behind me. Pointless dialog is to be expected in the NOC, but the level of volume and passion is inexplicable. I have never received a satisfactory explanation behind any sport fan’s obsession. You might as well be in an Apple Jacks commercial. “I just like ‘em because I do.” Fine, like them, just keep it down, dammit. Some people are trying to read comics here.

I Knew I Should've Kept Those High-Waters!

It was a fun time at my house last night, let me tell you! Stacy had been out and about during the day, so she didn’t get to make dinner. Instead, we met at Potbellies for a delicious dinner of PB&J sandwiches (yes, I know we could make those at home, shut it.) Stacy still had an errand to run, so I headed home. I fixed my lunch for the next day then took my Excedrin PM so I could get plenty of sleep before work. Before I headed off to bed, I remembered that Stacy wanted me to check the basement. We had a major rainstorm Thursday night and the drain in our basement entryway got plugged. Only a little bit of water made it into the house, but we didn’t want a repeat.

We got a repeat.

The first sign was my dog’s paw print embedded in the waterlogged carpet at the base of the stairs. By the time I crossed the room to the door, the water was up to the top of my rubber soles. It was lovely. Sure enough, a candy wrapper some kind youth thoughtfully threw over our fence clogged the drain. I spent the next three hours siphoning up what water I could with our carpet cleaner (almost as effective as ZipZaps in finding dog hair, only its much more moist.) Stacy got lost on the way home, so double fun for her. She put the girls to bed before heading to Wally’s World for a dehumidifier and a couple of box fans. By the time she got back, the carpet cleaner was jammed with wet dog hair and I was asleep on my feet. Curse you for being so effective, Excedrin PM! After cleaning out the carpet cleaner, I was barely intelligible. I called work to tell them I’d be late and then headed to bed. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. Stacy stayed up another three hours until the carpet cleaner got jammed again.

Like I said, fun time!

Zippity Zap Zip Zip Zap

Originally posted June 24, 2006

Know how I can tell Im getting old? Its easy. When I turn my upper body well within my normal range of motion, I suddenly feel like someone has ground one of my vertebrae into a fine powder, as I did this morning. Oh, and cuz I cant remember stuff no good neither.

A while back I bought Vicki a RadioShack ZipZap Monster Truck. For those of you that dont know about ZipZaps, they are tiny little remote control cars that charge on the remote controller. I also bought the tire and engine upgrade kits for the little truck. It was a fun novelty for a while, Vicki would make me chase her around the room playing tag with it. Last week, we had to go to the mall to get Stacy a new pair of glasses. While she was bartering with the Lenscrafters, I took the girls into the RadioShack next door. They had a large Cars display right in the front, complete with three ZipZaps based on characters from the movie. Can you guess how long it took the girls to ask for them? I relented; theyre cheap little toys and I have a soft spot for RC cars. Vicki picked out Sally, the blue Porsche and Zoe picked Lightning McQueen, the stock car. I accidentally picked two different frequencies, thank goodness. No upgrade kits, but that just saved me money.

Creepy Uncle Phils ZipZap

I put the cars together for the girls the next day. They had a great time zipping around the living room. Kylie, a girl Stacy babysits during the week, tried to use the old monster truck but was having trouble. Upon examination, I realized that the truck and Sally operated on the same frequency. Durn it. I also found that the ZipZaps found every bit of dog hair on the floor and directed it straight to the gear assembly on the axle.

Hair collection, the ZipZap way!

Yesterday, I got a call from Stacy asking if we could get spare parts for the truck. After all the abuse it had taken months ago, one of the girls dropped it and broke a strut. By the time I got home, Lightning McQueen wasnt responding to the RC. The truck was unsalvageable. A piece of the strut and the spring was missing. Lightning McQueen was completely unresponsive. So we packed the kids into the van and headed to the local CrapShack to exchange McQueen and get a new truck. Our local RadioShack is located in a very ethnic-oriented part of town.

After the Manassas city beautification project

Stacy didnt want to get out at first, but I assured her that with my gruff exterior and the fact that she was carrying a baby were big deterrents for anyone wanting to start some trouble. We headed back to the ZipZap section to find that all of their McQueens were on the same frequency as Vickis Sally. No good. We also discovered that in their infinite wisdom, RadioShack only produced two frequencies in their ZipZaps. That meant that any truck I bought would conflict with one of the girls cars. No truck for me. Zoe picked out a Herbie ZipZap from Herbie Fully Loaded and we exchanged the McQueen. Extra bonus: Herbie was half-off.

Sadly, Herbie wasnt driven by a miniature Lindsay Lohan

We made a stop for ice cream, with hilarious reactions to every drip off the cone (considering the heat, there were plenty of those.) Then we headed home. After the girls were in bed, I put together Herbie. Turns his price wasnt the only thing that was half-off. He used half the batteries and had half the power as the other ZipZaps. Ah well, Zoe certainly wouldnt notice.

Zoes first, second, and third cars

To end on a bright note, that crushing pain in my back has extended through my body and into my chest. Woo hoo!

The only thing that gets rid of my back pain!

Pain in my Ass pt 2, Recent Movies, and Thunder Storms

Originally posted June 23, 2006

I had a few things I wanted to share about last week that I just didnt get to. One of the first things I did as a bachelor after my work week was go to the surgeons office and get my pre-op checkup. Turns out that the surgeon doesnt think I have a problem. He examined the area around my tailbone and said he wasnt even sure I had a cyst. Naturally, I had already finished my antibiotic regimen at this point. I wasnt supposed to have any outward signs of the cyst. When I explained everything to him, he treated me like some hypochondriac that looked up the information on a pilonidal cyst and decided I had one. I patiently explained that this was my fourth such flare-up and that I had to have two of the three before lanced by a physician. He maintained that I did not need the surgery and that it would be wholly elective. I elected. So Ill be going under the knife (more aptly put, the knife will be going under me) on June 28^th. Poor Jon will be without my sparkling personality for the following two weekends as I recover.

Exciting bachelor life, right? Yeah, not really. I did find my inner chef while Stacy and the girls were gone, though. I grabbed a few interesting recipes from the Interweb thingy and headed to the grocery store for the goods. I ended up cooking a few gourmet dishes that turned out pretty good. Two favorites were Grilled Portobello with Sun-Ripened Tomatoes & Mozzarella and Mahi Mahi in Macadamia Nut Crust. I was able to share my culinary delights with my family since Stacy and the girls came home last Wednesday on schedule.

I wanted Stacy to stay out there as long as it took to help her family member, but she decided she was doing more harm than good. I was not sorry that she came home early at all. I concluded long ago that I am not cut out for the bachelors life. Although I did enjoy the additional free time that it entailed, I did not enjoy going to bed alone at night. I developed a severe case of insomnia during the short time Stacy was in Utah. It was nothing that Stacys return and some Excedrin PM couldnt resolve.

As I was en route to the airport to pick up my girls, Jon called to see if I wanted to go to A Prairie Home Companion. With the OK from the wiff, whom I did not want to abandon the day after she got home, I told Jon Id be there. Stacy and I decided to take the girls to see Cars on the same day. Thats right, I got to hit the double feature. Its been years since Ive gone to a double feature, mostly because actual double features do not exist anymore. Going to two movies in a row are about as close as you get.

A Prairie Home Companion was good. The ensemble cast did a great job of working together with no real grandstanding. By far, my favorite character was Kevin Klines Guy Noir, the bumbling, down-on-his-luck private eye that was moonlighting as the VP of security/head of security/sole security guard of the radio studio. For those of you who are not familiar with A Prairie Home Companion, something I was only in passing, it is a radio show headed by Garrison Keillor (GK in the movie.) It is a variety show complete with musical acts, stories from Garrison, sound effects, and fictional advertisements for things like Buttermilk Biscuits, look for the big blue box with the biscuit on the front. What I didnt realize as I was watching the movie, but that Jon educated me about later, is that most of the characters behind the scenes of the radio show were the fictional characters that Garrison would tell stories about on the actual radio show. Many of them were originally voiced by some of the movie cast members that were playing themselves. Its all very confusing in writing, but it made for an entertaining movie. I would give A Prairie Home Companion 4 out of 5 stars.

Afterwards, as Jon and I were discussing Kevin Klines brilliantly subdued buffoonery, Jon wondered why Kline wasnt tapped to play Inspector Clouseau in the latest remake of the famed Pink Panther movie instead of Steve Martin. I later found that Kline is in the movie, but only as Chief-Inspector Dreyfuss, the poor man that is the butt of most of Clouseaus mishaps. I think that one reason Kline may not have been chosen for the lead role is that his French accent is not nearly outrageous enough. Throughout his performance the dramatic resonance of his almost sing-song delivery of lines paved over any attempt at a foreign accent. Martin, on the other hand, did no better as Clouseau. His accent was outrageous, but his performance was barely amusing at the best of times. The only redeeming factor was Beyonce Knowles as Random Sexy Lady That Is Not The Leads Romantic Interest. Specifically during the final sequence wherein Beyonce does what Beyonce does best, singing and shakin it. Said shakin occurred in a slinky evening dress sans bra. Verry nice. Unfortunately, not nice enough to save this movie. I would give Pink Panther 1 out of 5 stars.

Enough about Beyonces jubblies, on to Pixars latest contribution to the CG glut of kids movies, Cars. It was entertaining in a completely different manner than A Prairie Home Companion. Where the latter gave us humor in the Americana of a dying radio show, the former gives us car-related puns and a few humorous gems for the parents. While I did find the movie endearing overall, I do have a complaint about the talent. I dont remember where I read it, but someone recently commented on the trend of celebrities voicing CG characters and how it tends to detract from viewer enjoyment. How often have you heard a voice over and wracked your brain to figure out who it is while the action continues on screen? Perhaps even more annoying is when a voice over is performed by an actor you despise. Case in point: Lightning McQueen, Cars lead role as voiced by Owen Dicknose Wilson. His smarmy delivery of lines is made only slightly more tolerable by not having to see his insincere, Im very sincere facial expression that accounts for half of his emotive repertoire (the other half being his all-too-sincere smug expression.) What was the purpose of having Paul Newman voice the older car? What did that bring to the movie? How about Cheech Marin as the stereotypical hydrolic-lifted, custom-paint-job, low-rider Impala? A few of the voice-over artists actually brought something to their roles, such as Tony Shalhoub as the Italian Fiat 500 or George Carlin as the stoner hippy VW Minibus. I still maintain that actors doing voiceovers has gotten out of hand. When the movie is a vehicle (no pun intended) for the voice over artists rather than the story, the superb animation, or a myriad other things that should take precedence, then the experience is cheapened. Id give Cars a middling to fair review, I guess 3.5 out of 5 stars.

Other stuff happened, but I think Im just going to bring this blog up to date with a pitiful story about my daughter, Zoe. I had taken my sleeping pills early on last night so I could get my sleep schedule ready for the weekend. Stacy had gone to a Tupperware party and left me to put the girls to bed. No big deal, it was done within an hour. I was drifting off to sleep despite the screaming infant in the cradle next to my bed by the next hour. Suddenly, I was awakened at 11:30 PM. It only took a few seconds to realize why. Rain was hammering down on the roof and sides of the house while lightning flashed and thunder pealed in machine-gun bursts. It was loud and close. Judging from the lack of a full second between lightning and thunder, it was hitting within a mile of our house. Stacy had not returned by then. I was slightly worried with the storm outside and Stacy missing, but I figured I would have gotten a call from her if anything was wrong. I lay there awake, drowsing, as I waited for the inevitable cry from the girls room as one or both of them was awakened by the storm. In-between a lazy blink of my eye, a shadowy figure loomed out of the dark, illuminated from behind by the flashes of lightning. I freaked. Hazy memories of The Exorcism of Emily Rose flashed through my mind. It took me a second to realize it was Stacy. She had come home a couple of hours ago and was just waiting in the office for one of the girls to wake up. Minutes later, Zoe did just that. The poor girl was so terrified of the noise from the thunder that she had her hands clutched to her ears no matter what we did. Stacy passed her over to me while she was getting into bed and those hands did not even budge. I found out from Stacy this morning that Zoe kept her ears covered tightly even after she fell asleep. Poor kid.

I'm going to end on a note about this blog's location. With Myspace patchy blog performance, I am thinking about moving to blogspot or a similar blog host. Watch this space for a link.

Game Boys for Everyone! OR I'm Nintendo’s B!@ch

Originally posted June 16, 2006

So Im watching some TV as I fold laundry on Monday and on comes a commercial advertising Nintendos latest addition to the Game Boy family (11 strong now.) The bastards just keep on piling them on. Let me take you through a brief history of Nintendos efforts to wrest away my time and money.

- First came the Game Boy in all its off-white body and spinach-green screen glory. It was big and bulky by todays standards, but a remarkable piece of technology by 1989 reckoning. Tough too, it could withstand floods and sand storms according to natural disaster victims and Desert Storm veterans. This I know courtesy of Nintendo Powers letter columns (Nerd! I know.)

- Next, in 1995, came the exact same Game Boy hardware with new colored shells. Anyone remember Play it loud! No? Me neither. This was my entering point into the world of handheld gaming. I bought the black one. Little did I know how insidious Nintendo would become.

- Not long after, in 1996, Nintendo unveiled the Game Boy Pocket. It was miniscule compared to the old one. By that time I wasnt playing much, so I didnt buy one.

- Japan got the Game Boy Light, a backlit version of the Pocket in 1997, meh.

- Fast forward a couple of years to the Game Boy Color in 1998. Same size as the Game Boy Pocket, but instead of spinach-green graphics, the system was able to display multiple colors, even for the old monochrome games. A new batch of games that could take advantage of the color capabilities came out. I couldnt resist. I bought the second and third Game Boys, one for myself and one for my new wife, Stacy.

- A couple more years pass quietly before Nintendo drops the next bomb, the Game Boy Advance, in 2001. It had the capability of surpassing the Super Nintendos abilities, a new form factor, physically smaller games, and backwards compatibility. This thing had my name written all over it. I was dismayed by the craptastic display, though. Without perfect light, there was no way to see the on screen action. Being the retard I am, I even shipped my Advance to a fly-by-night company that promised to install a backlighting solution for a fee. I never saw that Game Boy again. By then, Nintendo had announced the follow up to the Game Boy Advance.

- The SP, released in 2003 (SP stands for SPECIAL, like me!) This was not only backlit, but it folded in half. I had to have one, and have one I did. That sucker could fit into my pocket with ease. Finally, a portable game system that could actually fit in my pocket! I was so cool. Nintendo had to remedy that situation.

- Along came the Game Boy DS in 2004. This behemoth eclipsed the Game Boy Pocket in size, almost giving the original Game Boy a run for its money. However, it was a clamshell design that when unfolded, revealed two screens (The DS stands for Dual Screen,) the lower screen being touch-sensitive. This opened up a whole new arena for stylus-driven games. Nerd heaven! Of course I bought one!

- Perhaps sensing the public dismay at the size of the DS, Nintendo reformed their Game Boy Advance into the Game Boy Micro in 2005. This tiny system could fit in a shirt pocket without showing.

- Sometime in 2005 Nintendo also improved the brightness of their Game Boy SPs. It was about this time that I attempted to subjugate the rest of my family into Nintendos Game Boy slave ring. See, first they pull you in, then they use you to convert new subjects. I bought Stacy a Game Boy DS and my two daughters their own Game Boy SPs.

- Just scant months later, Nintendo has done it again, this time with the Game Boy DS Lite. It is considerably smaller than the DS with considerably brighter screens.

None of this takes into account the many Game Boy accessories like the Game Boy players on the Super Nintendo and Gamecube. Like I said, theyre bastards. What do you think I did? I bought one of course. Yes, Im Nintendos b!@ch (but New Super Mario Bros. looks fantastiiiiiiic!)

Nintendo (Game Boy Division): 10

Scott: 0

PS. Thank you Wikipedia for the release dates and the tidbit on the Japanese Game Boy Light.

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig or, I'm the Asshole

Originally posted June 9, 2006

I flew into Washington/Dulles International Airport yesterday. While it is good to be back in NoVA, I miss my family. Stacy and the girls will be staying in UT for a few weeks while she helps out a family member.

I generally pride myself on my airplane manners. I don't make a lot of noise, I keep to myself, and I do not encroach on my fellow passenger's space. That is probably the reason it irks me so much when other people don't use any manners. Case in point: a family of six sat in the row behind me. I was in the window seat, and one of the sons was in the middle seat behind while his dad was next to him in the aisle seat. I put the boy somewhere between 9 and 10 years of age. As soon as they sat down, the son began screaming everything he says at the top of his lungs. I was annoyed, but I thought to myself, "Just live with it. As soon as the plane is cruising I can break out my laptop and noise-cancelling headphones." So that's what I did. For the next three hours I listened to music while I did some school reading and watched a few episodes of Justice League Unlimited kindly provided by Jon. Everything was fine until the pilot told the passengers to stow all electrical devices to prep for landing. As soon as my headphones were off the aural assault began. I gritted my teeth and picked up my book. Ever try to concentrate on reading when the voice of a kid that is the equivalent to an air raid siren is washing over you? It's difficult. "That's it," I thought, "At the very least, I can spare us all 15 minutes of quiet as we land." I turned in my seat and politely asked the father, "Is that your boy?"

"Yes," he answered.

"Would you mind asking him to quiet down a bit?" I asked nicely.

"No. I can't, he's autistic!" he replied, eyes widened in defensive shock and anger.

Yes, I'm the asshole that told the autistic kid to shut the hell up.

Okay, I'm the bad guy. I can handle that. What I didn't get was the father's angry response. I didn't know the kid was autistic. Was I supposed to assume? Should I have asked him? "Hey, is your kid autistic or are you just a bad father?" You think he'd appreciate me assuming that his boy didn't have a condition. Aren't we all supposed to view people with handicaps as being handicapable?

So, as the plane taxied to the terminal and gently nuzzled up to the jetway, I performed the Walk of Shame out of the gate. I could feel the father's angry stare as I slung on my backpack and made my way up the cramped corridor between the seats. On the way out I tipped over an old lady in a wheelchair because she was going to slow, kicked the crutches out from a girl with a broken leg because she was in my way, and spit on a little boy with cerebral palsy because he couldn't fight back. Go me!