Wednesday, December 31, 2003

One more New Year's Memory...

We're about two hours away from going to celebrate New Year's with Sean's family, and while I have a headache, backache and bad ankle, I can't miss yet another party where simply me not being there causes someone to go, "You should have seen who came, Punkie!" Last time I missed an old school chum, Michela Worthington, who became a merchant marine and sailed ships all over the Caribbean. I wanted to see her!

Anyway, I am watching the news with the sound off and I just saw a shot of New Year's in Moscow's Red Square. It reminded me of another New Year's Eve...

I was working the International Desk for a huge ISP, and it was December 31st, 1999. We had been going through Y2K checklists all year, and it boiled down to this day. Our first hit was Australia. We waited. And waited. In my case, I was watching through IM, and seeing if the desk there was signed on or not. Australia was 16 hours ahead, and it was 8am in the morning where I was. When 8am crossed, I got an IM "... hold on sec."

According to my timestamps, about 4 minutes passed, but it seemed like a lot longer. Come on... come ON! Are we okay or what? The Japanese desk was also anxious, and IM'd me to see if Australia was okay, since the Australian desk hadn't called them yet. Whatever hit Sydney would hit Tokyo in two hours. Japan was REALLY worried, because the Asian markets were doing poorly, and the last thing they needed was a panic in Japan. They had done extensive Y2K checking, but at this point there was a superstition that something vital somewhere would go "boom" and that would be it.

AUTechDesk: Looks good from here. Eerily quiet, but she's all a go!
PunkWalrus: JPTechDesk? The Aussies report an all clear!
JPTechuuDesk-san: They IM us too and all see okay go to here
HKTechDesk-chan: Sorry we late is Australia okay?
AUTechDesk: I think we nipped the Y2K!
JPTechuuDesk-san: Singapore confirm Pacific connection a yes too
PunkWalrus: YAY! I can now breathe!

Two hours later, Japan said it was all "nice nice" and Hong Kong (their English was as bad as their skill was good). I was so relieved because we were so worried. I pictured the whole world winking out like blown light bulbs as the midnight hour passed each zone. I feared the chaos that might follow in a post-technological world. Planes that fell from the air, missiles blowing up in their silos, the whole media scare that had been building for two years. And now it was over. What a relief! Best New Year's present yet.

So I wish all my blog readers a "nice nice" New Year's!!!!

Posted by Punkie @ 06:25 PM EST [Link]

Tuesday, December 30, 2003

Some random stuff

Man, I ate some Dinty Moore beef stew last night that made me very sick. Ugh. You ever eat anything that made you so sick, you won't be able to eat it again for years? Yeah. That sick.

It looks like I'll be a judge for the Katsucon Anime Video Awards again this year, because Keith politley asked if I'd do it again. He just wants my big screen TV! :-D No, seriously, I love doing this. Sure, 90% of the videos are boring crap, but the 10% that aren't sure make up for it. Some have been so good... I cried (the Miyazaki "Golden Slumber" one, and the fake trailer for Metropolis got me last year). I am such a wuss for musical scores sometimes. Last time, we judges had to wade through tons of bad Sailor Moon fan service stuff, a few disturbing violent porn selections, and a lot of just really dull, uninspiring clips to get to some that were golden. Although, sometimes after 10 dull clips, we'd over-appreciate some that were not as dull, simply because our brains hurt, and our attention span was desperate for a change. But those get weeded out after the second pass. When I judge anime music videos, I go more for the deeply moving, and roaringly funny, rather than subject matter. There was one video I liked where it was dedicated to the abuse that Lupin III's Cooper Mini survives. Another was Goldenboy done to "Pretty Fly for a White Guy." I didn't truly appreciate those until I saw the Goldenboy series.

I am also going to be the technical Cosplay judge, which was a pretty interesting learning experience last time. Note to Katsucon Cosplay entrants: I favorably judge on effort and humility. A good technical job will shine on its own, you don't need to be a primadonna about it. I mean, don't be shy, sit in a corner, and say nothing when I ask you questions, but don't jump in my face and nail yourself to the cross, either. Having the illustration that inspired you is a BIG plus (and thanks to the majority of you that did).

The guy running pre-reg this year has assembled a team to help him, forcing me to slap my head and go, "THAT'S what I should have done!" And it's not like anyone didn't tell me. Oh well. Lesson learned. Thanks for your wisdom, Tom.

All this week, since Christmas Eve, I have been learning a few new skills. I have started up with OpenBSD again, after having left it for a while to learn more about Slackware. I have also learned more about networking, and how household cable (TV, Internet) work. These all have to do with stuff I do at work, of course (since we test networks), but I have been working on personal side projects to see how my cable router and firewall work, and how secure it really is. It's not the best results, but I suppose it's better than having my PC directly connected to the Internet. So I am working on improving security.

Posted by Punkie @ 04:37 PM EST [Link]

Some New Year's memories

I don't recall New Year's very much as a kid. I don't think our family celebrated it, or if they did, it was totally forgettable. It was past my bedtime anyway, and usually there was an air of uncomfortableness lingering because my mother had possibly gotten drunk on Christmas.

Evecon 5, the one I mentioned where that guy said, "Hey Spock, Nanoo nanoo!" was my first memorable New Year's. I had been living at the FanTek house for a few months by this point, and saw how a con was run from the inside. We had started setup on Thursday, but didn't expect the crowds until Friday morning. But Thursday evening was New Year's eve, and a LOT of fen arrived early. So did some non-fen, and the Stouffer's Concourse hotel in Crystal City was a mix of unready convention security, drunken mundanes, and a lot of hubbub that Isaac Asimov WAS on his way (we didn't know until that Thursday that he was coming for sure). Our security team scrambled to be a buffer between the mundanes and fen.

I got the job near the elevator next to the bar. What a lousy shift that was. Every drunken person made a comment about the headset I was wearing, loudly, like I couldn't hear them. "H-hey, there's some ... guys or something with... antennas on their HEAD. What the HELL? Ha ha ha!" Now I don't mind, I mean, hell, that must have looked odd, but I was 19 then, and pretty self-conscious and took myself FAR too seriously.

A side note: Our security communication back then was a headset we bought for $40 each from Radio Shack. It was on one of the 5 public frequencies used by baby monitors, toy walkie-talkies, and some cheap cordless phones. I think it was 49.75mhz or something. It wasn't in stereo, it was only in one ear, and after wearing it for a few hours, you swore, even if you had taken it off for a while, that you could STILL hear voices in that ear.

As the evening approached, over the headset, I heard the countdown.

Fen1: It's 11:59 guys...
Fen2: Woohoo! One minute to 1988!
Fen1: Yeah, 1988!
Central: Keep the airways clear, please.
Fen3: It's already 1988 in sidereal time [that was my friend, Jason, who had a sidereal watch]
Fen1: What the hell is sidereal time?
Fen4: It sounds vaguely dirty...
Central: I said keep it down, please!
Fen5: Ralph, you there?
Central: Call for Ralph.
Fen1: Thirty seconds!
Fen3: Sidereal time is the measurement of fixed star to fixed star, it's 4 minutes ahead every day.
Fen2: There's some drunks in the lobby.
Central: Drunks? On New Years? No...
Fen1: Twenty seconds!
Fen5: I love you!
Central: Who do you love?
Fen5: It's my secret...
Fen6: Tower to central?
Central: Central here.
Fen6: I love you, too!
Central: Th-thanks. I'll keep that in mind. Note to all staff: Central loves you, too.
Fen1: Thanks, Pat! 10... 9....
Fen2: 8... 7...
Central: It's Ralph. Pat's on rove. We are go for launch!
Fen4: Elvis... has left the building!
Fen2: Has Pat left the building?
Fen1: 3... 2...
Central: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!
Fen2: --PY NEW YEAR!!!!
Fen5: HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Fen3: We seem to already be off by a few seconds...
Fen1: I blame sidereal time!

Or something like that. I was next to the bar and heard everyone counting down. At the zero second, the bar erupted, and not more than ten seconds later, a small woman, wearing a white lacy cocktail dress, stumbled out of the bar. She looked like a model. Or a high-class bar fly (I never could tell the two apart). "H-HUPPY NEW YAAAARRR!!!" she said, with a wide drunken grin and she fell right into me. I had to hold her up, and while she was conscious, she was rip-roaring drunk. She smelled of expensive vodka and the kind of perfume that comes in fabric softeners.

Punkie: Uh... central? This is Punkie... er, I mean Unit 3.
Central: Go ahead, Unit 3.
Punkie: There's uh... drunken ... lady who passed out in front of me.
Central: [snicker] Sounds like you're having a better time than we are.
Punkie: No, I'm serious, she can't hold herself upright.
Central: We'll be right there.

The lady was very small and light. She was holding onto the front of my sweater, regaling me with a tale that her boyfriend had dumped her just an hour earlier. On new Year's Eve. And she was drunk and didn't give a damn. In less than two minutes, she went through several passes of about four major emotional states of calm, sadness, rage, and confusion. A team of about 4-5 security volunteers arrived, and saw me awkwardly trying to hold this lady up. Much snickering ensued.

They helped her up, and led her back to the bar.

Pat Skovran, who was a watch commander at the time, came back and told me, "If this EVER happens again? Call me personally, or if you have to call me on the headset, say it's a 'Code Pat' emergency, okay?" Then he winked. Pat, you lecher. I miss you.

Since those days, I have gotten married, and every New Year's we have had our friend Jason over, he'd educate us on his latest adventures, and then we'd count down with Dick Clark. Then we'd all fall asleep. This year, Jason is spending it with a long distance relationship in Boston (he lives in Tucson now), another astrophysicist from Mexico (by way of Canada... long story). I wish him and his girlfriend the best and brightest New Year's, and hope to meet her some day.

I will be at Sean's party in Reston. I bought gloom tubes, deely-boppers, and noiseless blowouts for the adults and kids. Then the next day, we'll be getting ready for our last... Evecon... ever :(

[sniff]

Posted by Punkie @ 02:41 AM EST [Link]

Monday, December 29, 2003

Young Parents

I have said a few times before that some people thought our marriage was a mistake. Some meant well, and I don't hold it against them. Some were just gossipy, and I have long since forgotten who they were, and only one was mean, that was my dad, so he doesn't count. We got married when I was 20, and Christine was 18. A little over a year later (13 months), we were parents. Now, Yes, I think we were a bit young, and mistakes have been made, but it's turned out pretty good, considering what odds were against us.

One... odd bonus to having kinds young is that when they are grown up and gone, you're still young enough to do something non-parental with your life. Almost start over, although I don't think Christine and I will really be "starting over" so much in 2008. Yes, in 2008, CR will be 18. In about four and a half years. I'm not sure how that will end, because I have never done this before, but already there's pangs of losing CR to the real world. But when he moves out, I'll only be 39. When my dad was 39, I was only 7. Christine will be a few years younger, like my mom was. I picture our lives, with a soundtrack that is a sped up 33rpm orchestra tune on 78 speed (ask your parents, young ones, what that means), like a Benny Hill sketch, with us zooming down the lane in a car, weaving about and going "Wheeeee!" Okay, maybe that's being dramatic.

Already, CR has realized how much younger we are than his friend's parents, who are all in their late 30s and 40s. When I graduated high school, we all were kids of the Reagan era, wallowing in the Iran-contra scandal, while his friend's parents left the prom wondering what a peanut farmer from Georgia was doing as president, being attacked by rabbits. My high school prom most likely played the Bangles' "Walk like an Egyptian," theirs probably played Billy Joel's "Just the Way you Are." You get the idea. It's like we don't have anything in common with parents around here, unless they just started having their kids.

It has been a bit isolated. I have no parents or siblings, and Christine doesn't have parents, and all her siblings are much, much older than she is. Like the youngest is ten years older. Her nieces, nephews, and cousins are mostly about her age, and those that have kids live far away. In fandom, we have a few parents that we know that have had kids, like the Greyhawk clan, Sean and Lou's kids, and more recently, Brian and Lori. None of them ever ask us to babysit. I wonder if we scare them off.

I can't speak for Christine, but personally, I would have liked to have had something like a kibbutz for Christopher. Christine had that; she had cousins and nieces to play with, and CR has... no one. He also went to a magnet school most of grammar school, which was filled with kids who lived too far away to play together. He did make one lasting friend, a great kid named Dominic, but his parents always have him doing stuff, and it's hard to get Dominic to come over: his schedule is always so full. I can relate. My best friend growing up lived in Texas, for God's sake. I didn't have a pod of local friends until I was 15.

If I had money when we started out, I would have liked to have had more kids. I have kind of wanted three of them, which is kind of funny, because I used to not want any kids; I was scared to death of children. Now I wish I had more. One thing Christine said was that CR won't have brothers or sisters to share the burden when we get old. But now we're too old to "start over." We have discussed fostering when CR moves out, but that's so filled with heartache, and I am a wuss when it comes to that sort of stuff. Being an abused kid, I'd just want to slap the hell out of this kid's biological parents, you know?

So who knows what the future brings? One topic we also discussed is, "Do we still want this house?" It's a big house for just two people. My weak argument is we have a lot of stuff, but maybe I should get rid of a lot of this stuff. It's a good question. How empty will this nest feel? I take CR for granted a lot. He's a really a great person, and he has a lot to offer the world, so I can't keep him here because that's not fair to anyone.

As you can see by the time stamp, this thought keeps me awake.

Posted by Punkie @ 01:37 AM EST [Link]

Saturday, December 27, 2003

Hey, Spock! Nanoo nanoo!

I was 19 years old, doing a security shift at Evecon 5 when I heard that comment. It was New Year's Eve, and there were non-fannish people in the hotel mingling with the sci-fi con attendees. The person who said it was with two women, in the elevator, on his way up to his room. I have always felt the person who said this was not trying to be cruel, but funny in the presence of his two lady friends, and I can forgive a fellow male trying to score. He was also slightly drunk, and I fully realize I was wearing a security headset with a wire sticking from my head. And I was one of dozens of people like this at the hotel. To someone not with the convention, this might have understandably seemed odd, and since he was slightly inebriated, he sort of said whatever came to his head. To this person, all sci-fi was essentially the same thing: a kind of vague spaceship/Martian/raygun sort of thing. I feel the same way about rap music; it all seems to blend into the same noise, although I realize to a true rap fan, there's a whole sub-world that could take days to explain.

On a fandom list, someone made the comment about "us and them" I hear a lot of in fandom. In fandom, we have words like "fan" and "mundane." I am not sure if "mundane" comes from the Piers Anthony Xanth series (their name for outsiders who didn't have magical skills, but necessary for breeding stock), or if it goes further back than that. Fandom is full of people who have a sort of "us versus them" attitude, mostly due to early childhood trauma, and so they view "mundanes" as pathetic sheep with no intellectual creativity, low tolerance towards differences, and ... well, it's almost like a "jocks versus nerds" thing. I have disagreements with a lot of that, but that's not where I want to go with this entry.

I want to talk about Star Trek.

Many fen either love Star Trek or hate it. I take that back, most like Star Trek, but don't like the fans, which seems contradictory at first, but I think many of them are embarrassed by their Trek brethren. Many see Trekkies, or Trekkers, or Trek fans as nerdy unwashed and overweight fanboys who wear Spock ears or Klingon foreheads that quote episode numbers and have a nasal honking laugh. Well, I am here to tell you, those people exist outside of fandom, too, and Trek didn't make them that way (just go to an anime con... or a gun show). But a lot of non-nerdy people who are really into intellectual and speculative literature at sci-fi or fantasy cons get told by non-fannish relatives, "Oh, you like Star Trek! Alf was MY favorite!" And they cringe. The same cringe I think the Nation of Islam gets when they hear, "How come you made Osama Bin Laden hate us?" It makes you want to go, "No no NO! You see, they are NOT us, and ... ah, forget it!"

Recently, on an unrelated matter, I was speaking with some gaming people in the Midwest, and when I mentioned something about Deep Space 9, and one of them went into a tirade about how at some con, the DS9 people started fighting with the Classic Trek people, and how he wished that Trek fanboys would all leave fandom. On the fandom list, other people also mentioned the whole "Trek cringe" thing. Recently, Star Wars has gotten some attention, when Triumph, the Insult Comic Dog was talking to some adult in a Darth Vader outfit about the buttons on his costume, and he goes "which one of these is for your mom to come pick you up?" Now, I thought that was funny, but it angered a LOT of fen. Nanoo, nanoo.

I can't solve other's problems. My view on Star Trek is not always the popular one in fannish circles. First, I thought the old series was campy, and poorly acted. But I do tip my hat a little because they did tackle a few pressing social issues, and some of the sci-fi greats of literature wrote some of the episodes. But man... so garish! The movies were the same way, I thought, and viewed them almost as bad at Battlestar Galactica. When "The Next Generation" came out, I hated it. I gave up after a few shows because it was so campy, so bad, and it just seemed to suck greatly. When I wrote skits for Prune Bran, I attacked them mercilessly (sorry, Wil). I didn't get back into it until the mid 90's, when I found that around season 3 or so (there were 7 seasons), it started not to suck. I also found out that Gene had gotten ill, and someone else had taken over (Rick Berman?). Then they started to focus more on characters, less moralistic endings, more mystery, and the series seemed so much better. Then Gene died, and the series was great until it ended.

Then they tried with Deep Space 9, which... I think had trouble finding its audience. But it also lasted 7 seasons, partly due to contracts with Paramount, and UPN generally sucking as a channel anyway... it was a LOT better than other stuff they had (or still have). I never found many people who were really into DS9, and even less into Voyager and Enterprise. I stopped watching after season 2 of DS9, because it bored me. I liked Voyager better, but I seem to be a lonely voice here. I have never watched a single episode of "Enterprise."

What REALLY ticked me off about Star Trek was how Paramount treated their fans. Fox is kind of the same way, yes, but Paramount was trying to sue fan web sites, who were doing nothing but spreading the fan base for them , for free! But Paramount got greedy with images, sounds, and other "licensed material," and wanted the golden profit. They didn't see the effect of slow and steady fanbase, they only saw quick and rich... screw the future. They were really out of touch with their fans. At least Fox didn't go around telling Star Wars Lego sites to shut down or go to court.

Years ago, I was not so kind to Trek fans. I attended a Novacon (local Trek convention) for a few hours because I was with a friend who had to pick up something. While I sat in the lobby, some girl, dressed in a flawless Starfleet uniform and carrying a stuffed cat, sat in the chair adjacent to me. She then talked AT me, totally in character, about a planet of android kitties, and Federation politics. This is one of those moments where you wonder if you're on Candid Camera. I mean, far be it for me to mock those who speak in character: I have friends who work the Renn Fests. But even they will speak for only a minute, and then pass on the act to the next passer by. This girl was obviously had a few screws loose. For one of the longest hours of my life, she went on and on, speaking as if she was reading a storybook to schoolchildren, about her tirade against the federation for them to take the cat people seriously. At first, I interacted with her, because I made the mistake of thinking she'd start acting normal or move on. But she didn't. Finally, I gave up, but I was too cowardly to suddenly stand up and walk away when my friends told me to wait in the lobby. I got to spend an hour (and I watched the clock) staring at this girl and her intricate details. For instance, I noticed her red curly hair was greasy, and kept in place with a broken banana clip. Her mouth had slight smudges around it, and she smelled vaguely of patchouli, wet bread, and rank sweat. Her untrimmed nails were dirty, and the stuffed cat looked old and like it had been loved almost bald, ala the "Velveteen Rabbit." I pictured a shattered child in an adult body, gripping onto this relic from her past and living in a fantasy Trek world where there was no disease, poverty, or parents that beat you. It was a strange contrast: pristine costume, dirty body. Her eyes were looking at me, but not really focusing on my face, like she was in some... drug-educed stupor. I don't think she was retarded, because her choice of language seemed educated with complex words and phrase chains. In fact, she presented her case very well, like Sally Struthers when she goes on about children suffering somewhere. It was the subject matter was so... damn, I hate to say it, but she REEKED geek.

For years that hour haunted my mind. I cringed when I thought about it, and how a lot of non-fen see us fen this way. I made a comment on a public list about "unwashed Klingons," and that drew a lot of fire. It drew fire from friends of mine who I didn't know were "from a clan." They educated me thusly: "We are part of a Klingon clan, not so much to discuss Trek, but to study strategy and engage in play politics. Like this year, we're having a blood drive. The clan that donates the most blood wins the Blood Quest, and gains honor! And it's no sillier than the Elks Lodge." Touche. I now know several people in "Federation Ships" as well as Klingon Clans, and none of them are "unwashed" anything. They are all really decent people. Foot? Meet my mouth...

Anyway, it seems that in fandom there really is an uneasy peace between "what we are" and "what the mundanes think we are." I still have them. I don't tell work a lot that I go to sci-fi cons, although they do find out sooner or later. I worked with one guy who really had a thing about it. It made him angry, which is fairly unusual, especially in the technical field. He kept calling me nicknames like "Spock" or "Data." Around his office was a whole bunch of pictures of high-end foreign sports cars, so I started making comparisons about his hobbies and NASCAR, which made him cringe. When he'd call me "Spock," I called him "Billy Bob Joe." This didn't solve anything, and things between us continued to get worse (or at least he reacted like it was) until he was cut during a layoff. In all my life since high school, this has been the only incident of its kind. Many fen act like this happens all the time, but if it does, I have been really lucky. But I do take precautions, like instead of saying I am going to a science fiction convention, I'll say, "I am pushing my book," which is 100% true, but is sort of a lie by omission. Recently, I described an anime con as "a Japanese media culture exchange," to avoid the risk of explaining, no, I didn't like watching films of schoolgirls having sex with octopuses. I know I am not the only one who does this, but I still feel kind of guilty about it.

Shazbat.

Posted by Punkie @ 07:10 PM EST [Link]

Friday, December 26, 2003

Merry Belated Christmas!

Good title, I think. :)

I have had a good Winter Holiday so far. Good gifts were had by all. I got a lot of stuff, including:

- Tee-shirts: Megatokyo (3v1l m1ni0|\|), "I'm Blogging this," and "There's no place like 127.0.0.1"
- An Airzooka. Dogs hate it.
- A Megatokyo graphic novel, and matching lanyard. Great GN!
- A HUGE, and I mean huge, Linux Kernel 2.4 poster. It's as big as those oversized rock posters.
- A Mogu! Makes sleeping fuuuun....
- A ton of weird stuff from Archie McPhee
- A new button for my backpack, a kitty.
- Soft clogs, for when I have to gather firewood.
- Lots of chocolate
- A Lego mosaic kit with a picture of my kitty, Artoo.
- A fog blaster, that shoots real fog rings.

I know my dairy entries haven't been coming this week, but there's been work, family, the holidays, and the usual stuff. I'll have entries later (I have some saved up). For my many Jewish friends, Happy Hanukkah! For you Philcon people, I wrote a song for you on the BWSMOF list:

* I have a little fan con, a pre-reg I did pay
* And provided it's not snowing, I'll make it there today.
* Oh, Philcon, Philcon, Philcon, a pre-reg I did pay
* Philcon, Philcon, Philcon, with fandom I shall play.
*
* NUN - next person in the hallway wearing a yarmulke spins the dreidel
* GIMEL - player buys an item he/she doesn't need from the merchant's room
* HEY - player takes must wear all buttons found on freebie table
* SHIN - player must read a passage from "Eye of Argon" with a straight face

Posted by Punkie @ 01:42 PM EST [Link]

Sunday, December 21, 2003

Christmas Bonus

On Fark, they discussed "What's the worst Christmas bonus you have ever received?"

I haven't really worked at many places that gave me a bonus. I guess my work had the party last week, but I didn't go. But when I worked for Crown Books, I got a very nice bonus one year. They sent some oranges from a grove the company owned (Crown Books was part of a bigger conglomerate at the time, The Dart Group, under Haft Enterprises). They sent a crate of them to all managers, and they were very sweet and juicy.

But the next year, they sent us smoked turkeys. I knew it was a smoked turkey, because that's what the letter included with it said. The letter was necessary because what was in the small, plain, unlabeled white box looked like a diseased balloon. It seems that at some point, someone smoked a turkey (which was actually about the size of a small chicken), vacuum-sealed it in a thick plastic bag, put a sticker on it, and stacked it somewhere. The letter said that the turkey must be refrigerated immediately, a statement also stated on the label. The problem was, no one told UPS. I mean, the outside of the box was plain. It just had my address on it, and a return address with no name (just an address in Florida), but no instructions. Who knows how long the turkey had been sitting in non-refrigerated conditions, but industrious bacteria had already released enough gas inside the vacuum-packed plastic that it swelled up like a balloon so taught, it filled the box, pushing the foam peanuts flat. If it wasn't for the strong packing tape holding the box together, it surely would have been much larger. The brown lump sloshed aggressively inside its diseased plastic cocoon; I feared planning for an explosive escape. I couldn't see what the turkey looked like, because the bacteria had graciously obscured the clear plastic with a coating of sticky brown film. I tossed it right away. In fact, I recall opening it in my living room, figuring out the situation, and then taking it right outside to the trash cans before it went off like a bomb of stench. Other managers weren't so lucky. Many didn't get theirs, and those that did reported mixed reports of "it looked fine" to "the stench was abysmal."

I think when I worked for Chesapeake Knife and Tool, I got a Swiss Army T-shirt one year, and an "opportunity to buy up to five items at cost" the next year, which wasn't company policy, I think it was just a kind offer by my manager. Cargo never sent us bonuses. Christine got a work bonus a few years ago, but now the company can't afford it. I have never gotten a Christmas bonus in any tech job I have ever had. Although, when I used to work a 24/7 international network operations center, for holidays we had to work, they'd have it catered, so when you could get away from your desk, you'd go out to some room in the building where they'd have hot meals in chafing dishes, cookies, cake, whatever. So that was cool. Plus you got 2.5 x normal pay, so that was sort of a bonus.

A side note: Cargo gave some great gifts when your store made quota, though. Twice I won a trip to Cancun. The first time, they gave us $200 spending money before the trip, but the next year, they didn't, and many managers balked, and said they needed the $200 to afford "incidentals" in Cancun (I am not sure why, Cancun is CHEAP). When we arrived the second time, the company gave us $200 when we got there. They said, "Last year, everyone spent theirs before the trip. This year, we wanted to make sure you had fun in Cancun itself." That was very nice, IMHO.

Posted by Punkie @ 11:47 PM EST [Link]

Happy Birthday, Christine!

Yesterday, we had a big turnout at the Hama Sushi in Herndon. The sushi was wonderful, but the company was even better! There was Christine, CR, and myself, with Gay, Anya, Matthew, Nate, Jen, Sean, Louann, Nick, Miranda, and Sawa. Then, at the second table, we had Bruce, Cheryl, Moria, Matt, Travis, Dave, Missy, and Rogue. We took pictures, and Christine will have them up shortly on her site. Then most of us came back to our house, played "Apples to Apples," ate two cakes from the Amphora's, drank coffee, and talked late into the night. A good time was had by all.

I am glad that Christine could have a good party this time around. She really deserves it.

Sean and I are going to try and study for the CCNA. He's taking his re-certification, and I will attempt to try and take the test again. We're going to be study buddies. Bruce loaned us a copy of a Sybex book and simulation software.

Posted by Punkie @ 12:51 PM EST [Link]

Friday, December 19, 2003

Eating Update, plus Cultural faux pas with gifts across the pond...

Today marks a small note about my new way of eating.

Eating the old way, like I used to? Now seems to make me sick. I don't know if it's psychosomatic, but suddenly I can't take greasy foods anymore. I had a very delicious crab cake sandwich and fries, a slice of cake, and I became very ill from it. It's a weird kind of ill, like I feel as if I have overeaten, and I am having a heart attack. I mean, my left side goes numb, I am dizzy, and it's not a good thing. It always goes away eventually, but it incapacitates me for a while.

This morning, I weighed myself, and the scale showed 302.5. I know this will probably flux a few pounds upwards, but this marks the lowest weight I have had in years. I could be all bold and say I have now lost 25 pounds, but I think when I weighed 328, it was at the high point of my 10 pound flux. Speaking of that flux, I may have mentioned earlier that my weight always used to go up and down, about 3 times every 2 months or so. Like my last pattern would be 315-325, sometimes dropping to 312, sometimes as high as 330. Well, that flux has totally stopped, and I have relaxed weighing myself daily, since that was really the only reason I did so (it proved that the Atkins diet was killing me in 1998, I gained 15 pounds in one week, and I felt horrible). But I do weigh myself every few days or so, making sure to weigh myself every Sunday. I think on Sunday, I'll be 303 or so, and I think losing one pound a week is a good pace. If that were to keep up, I'd be 52 pounds lighter by next Christmas, but I seriously don't think I'll be 250 in 2004. I think I may be 280, because some weeks, I don't lose weight at all, and dropping to 250 seems awfully drastic for one year. I mean, that's like my 1992 weight. Around 220 is my final goal, because when I was 186, I looked like hell, and I don't care what the weight/height charts say! I think realistically, I will attain 220 or so by late 2005, maybe 2006 if I don't give up or die or something.

I have some giddy news, too. My Swedish cousins gave me gifts. This thrilled me to no end. Jon Eric and Siv joined together to send my family gifts. They were nicely wrapped and everything. The card said that they did get my gifts last year (I was only aware for a few of them that sent thank you notes), so that was a relief. But they also said that it's not usual for adults in Sweden to exchange gifts. Huh. Well, I feel a bit sheepish now. I was imagining how confused they must have been when I sent ALL of them gifts, and there's only like 3 kids aged 9 and below. Cultural faux pas. Sven told me he didn't want presents because it was for kids, but he didn't explain that ALL Swedes felt this way. I'll have to look into this. But still, it was great just to feel remembered! They are awesome...

Posted by Punkie @ 04:49 PM EST [Link]

Thursday, December 18, 2003

Joke time...

I am sitting around the office, waiting for some stuff to get done, and my radio played a Chubby Checker song that reminded me of a very bad joke, that's really outdated, but I have liked since I was 12.

Mark was a young man, approaching the door to his prom date, Maria. He was very nervous, and when he rang the doorbell, an old lady answered. Mark announced who he was, and the deaf old lady, who didn't speak English very well, invited him in and told him to sit down and wait. Mark fidgeted a lot, so the grandmother tried to strike up a conversation with the nice young man.

"You are very lucky to date my granddaughter," she said, drinking her tea. "She likes all the modern things America has to offer. She likes the big buildings, the food, and boy, does she like to screw!"

Mark's eyes raised in shock.

"Oh, yes! Boy, that girl, she screw all day and all night. She screw with all the boys, and even the girls! She screw to the music, she even screw when she's all alone in her bedroom up there, making all kinds of noise. Boy my Maria, she loves to screw!"

Mark was sweating bullets. He had no idea Maria was such a loose woman!

Maria suddenly ran down the stairs, and shouted, "For the last time, grandma, it's called 'The Twist!'"

[rim shot]

Okay, another joke. This one is my favorite.

It's WW2, on a battlefield in Italy. Sam is stuck in a foxhole with his sarge, and things look bad. The are surrounded, cut off from supplies, and Sam's ammo has run very low. Bullets are whizzing everywhere. "Sarge, I am down to my last bullet! What do I do??" shouts Sam above the noise.

"Use a broomstick," is the reply. The bullets go quiet for a second, as if they didn't believe he said that either, before starting again, louder than ever.

"What? Sarge? Are you crazy? What will a broomstick do?"

"I learned this in Normandy. Just take the broomstick like this, and fire it out the foxhole and yell 'BANGITTY BANG BANG! BANGITTY BANG BANG!"

Sam can't believe it! "What? That's crazy!!!"

"And if an enemy gets too close, tie a handkerchief to the end of it like this, see? And yell 'STABBITY STAB STAB! STABBITY STAB STAB!'"

"Sarge, that's not funny!" says Sam.

"It's the honor of war out here in Europe, just do as I say, and --ERK!" The sarge is killed by a bullet in mid-sentence.

"Sarge...? Sarge??" Sam is now alone. He feels he has nothing to lose, and so he grabs the broomstick, sticks it out of the foxhole, and shouts "BANGITTY BANG BANG! BANGITTY BANG BANG!" and sees enemy soldiers falling left and right! Holy crap! It works!

Sam did this all day and all night. "BANGITTY BANG BANG! BANGITTY BANG BANG!" Then, an enemy soldier jumps into his foxhole. "YAAARRRGGHHH!!!" he goes. Sam slaps him with the handkerchief, and yells "STABBITY STAB STAB! STABBITY STAB STAB!' and the guy falls down, bleeding from all over.

When morning came, it was quiet. Dead enemy soldiers were piled around the foxhole. Smoke blew everywhere. Sam waited to see if the coast was clear, and then when he saw or heard nothing he got out of the foxhole and started to run.

Off in the distance, he sees this big enemy soldier, walking slowing towards him. "BANGITTY BANG BANG! BANGITTY BANG BANG!" says Sam with his broomstick. But this time, the soldier does NOT fall, keeps walking slowly towards him! Sam runs up to him and goes "STABBITY STAB STAB! STABBITY STAB STAB!" But the enemy walks right over him and crushes him like a grape.

The enemy keeps walking in a slow steady line going, "TANKITTY TANK TANK! TANKITTY TANK TANK!"

[bows]

Posted by Punkie @ 02:15 PM EST [Link]

Watching what you say can pay off

I would honestly say that my life is always interesting. Not a dull moment. Sometimes good, sometimes bad. Today is a day with a lot of mystery, and I smell a change in the air. But sadly, I can't mention any of them in my blog, because they are either of a personal nature (for others) or there are financial and legal ramifications for mentioning them before they happen (if they happen).

The last item could be very good news for me. In the long term, not right away. So I am kind of giddy about it at the moment. It's always a nice feeling when someone picks you for something because they trust you and think you have a good skills at what you do.

On that note, I did get a letter from a trusted friend about a comment in my blog. I won't mention who it was, because they meant it to be private, but the lesson I think is too valuable not to share.

You now must be very careful what you say to everyone you meet, for you never know when they will come up to you 10 years later and tell you that conversation, that comment, changed their life. I think this happens to all humans, but being who we are, it happens more to us.

This is very true. Maybe I am pessimistic, but I remember more BAD advice I have given than good advice. My poor friend Donnalee, when she got glasses, I told her to wear them all the time, because my optometrist told me the same thing, and that glasses are not for "occasional use." I pressed her on the issue. Years later, I found out that, yes, some people only need glasses for occasional use, and everyone's eyes are different. My optometrist later told me that he told me "not for occasional use" because I was supposed to wear them all the time, and he was afraid I wouldn't wear them because I might be afraid how they made me look. I never hated my glasses (unless they broke), but he didn't know how hard I fought to get them. His guess was a young teen male would think glasses were "uncool" and not wear them unless he stressed certain points. And I'd say 9 out of 10 times, he'd be right. I was just a rare case.

I have had more people tell me that a random phrase I made up on the spot stuck with them for years, guiding their decisions, than I care to think about. And people I only met once telling me I changed the way they see things. I know these people are out there, saying the very same thing about you. So, even when it seems perfectly harmless, don't make the snarky comment [ ... ] Say it nicely. Even if the person it is intended for never hears it, others will, and your opinion of that person could well become their opinion of that person.

Very true. I try NOT to say bad things about people for that very reason, but I have slipped from time to time when my anger gets the best of me. No matter how unimportant we think an offhanded comment can seem, you never know when it may run downhill like a snowball, and grow out of proportion. Everyone puts their own spin on something, and some people exaggerate certain elements. That's why gossip can be so damaging. Let's take a work example. Here's what Betty overheard her boss say:

"There's someone coming down to the office to see how we work, but don't tell anyone because he doesn't want to be treated special."

Betty doesn't know WHY someone would do this, but she tells her friend Susan, "I overheard our boss say that someone secret is coming down to our office to see how we work." Susan tells her assistant Tom, "Tom, they are sending a spy in the next few days to see what we're doing. I don't know why, but it can't be good..." Tom says to Bill and Sara at the lunch table, "I just heard that they are sending spies down to our office to make sure we are actually doing work." Sara is paranoid about her work, and whether it's valuable or not. She also has an issue with drawing sympathy from people, so she says to Roy in the hallway, "Roy, I think my days might be numbered. I heard they are sending spies to our work to see if what we do is valuable. I am afraid they are about to lay off people. It is the end of the fiscal year and everything, and the markets aren't so good. I just hope I can find a job in this bad economy." Roy likes attention, and tell the people in the mailroom that "Layoffs are coming. Better send out resumes!" This rumor grows more and more distorted throughout the day, as people put their own fears and experiences into the mix. But bad news travels fast, and soon, the whole office is expecting Japanese businessmen to come in with clipboards, and evaluate their work. This eventually filters up to management, many who were not aware of any visitors, so they think THEY are being watched.

Yasu is mechanic that works for the building. He's been asked to wander around the offices, checking out thermostats and vents for any abnormalities. He was NOT the guy Betty's boss was talking about, but he is an Asian gentleman with a clipboard. All day he wonders why people act very nervous around him. After all, he's just there to check on the A/C system!

In this case, each and every person contributed to the paranoia. Not one person was a neutral carrier. And the same goes for all of us, all the time. Each and every interaction we have with a person will affect the rest of their day, and maybe even their life. I fully realize this, and try and filter what I say. I don't always succeed. Sometimes I say totally boneheaded things. Sometimes I say things that someone else takes a spin on in a wildly unpredictable manner.

Last year, I made a public comment about this guy I knew who was having a really bad time with this piece of equipment. He rented out carnival equipment, and this one piece was constantly being rented to deadbeats, losing him money, and he was always having to send collectors to his renters, much to his aggravation. I suggested maybe the cart was cursed, and maybe he should have a blessing put on it, or do what the ancient Chinese did: fire off firecrackers and jump around loudly. Immediately someone replied, "I know many Chinese, and they don't do that!" Someone else took this opportunity to also suggest I had made a racist comment. A third person even suggested that I never go to Canada, because buddy, it's full of Chinese immigrants. I got two e-mails from Asian people who said this was a heartless, racist, stereotyped comment. So I posted I was not a racist, provided four supporting web links that proved my point on why ancient Chinese fired off firecrackers, and that I thought the Chinese provided a lot of culture, and invented astronomy, spaghetti, the typewriter, and a ton of other useful contributions to the modern world. But I should have known. I was like being accused of witchcraft or communism. I got a collective "Whatever..." I was so upset, I IM'd my trusted friend Pocky (who is of Korean descent), and asked him if I ever treated him or other Asians we knew in a racist, stereotypical manner. After all, I hosted a celebrity roast for him where I made jokes about growing up in a strict Korean family (because I grew up with a lot of Korean friends). He laughed, and said, "YOU? A racist? Please ... who the hell said THAT?" This is one of the main reasons that will keep me from online communities. I mean, I stayed on that board for another year, and no one brought it up again, but it shows just how unpredictable an innocent, offhanded comment could be.

You can take it as enlightened self-interest, if you are in a selfy mood one day. (As when I would post things privately to people about, um, situations, but not say anything damning - then find out I had just posted it to my whole address book, and by not taking the low road, saved my own skin.)

Same here. The closest I ever got to that error was when I hit "reply to all" when I meant to reply to one guy. It was about a guy who had been laid off, and how creepy it was. It wasn't mean, but on that "reply all" was the guy who had gotten laid off. All I said was something to the effect of, "It was so creepy. He was in a meeting, and suddenly someone came to the door and said, 'Kerry, can I see you for a moment?' and then an hour later, his brother [... who also worked with us ...] came by to pick up his things still left on the meeting table. We never saw him again, we are not allowed to speak about him. It was so Orwellian." That was a slight moral retribution slap on the wrist compared to some incidents I have heard about. I am sure if Kerry still had mail access, he might have been stung a little (or he could have though, "Yeah, not fair!"), but what if I had said, "Man, Kerry sucks ass, ha ha! He got canned! BWAH! That will show him...!"

I try and NEVER make insulting comments to people, even those who I think deserve it, unless I would say it to their face. Because I assume every bad thing I say about someone WILL get back to them (an old Wiccan crede). Even if I am mad at someone, I try and keep the criticism specific to the act, and not the person. Only a few people would I ever outright insult personally, and it never pays off, so I don't know why I do it. Just some asshats make me so mad, but I am the one who lets them make me mad, so I still shouldn't insult them. My bad.

I also always assume my e-mail and IMs are being spied on. I mean, yeah, they probably aren't, but I just assume they are to keep me in check. This journal is seen by many, many people, and will eventually get cached in Google for perhaps decades. I always know what I e-mail, IM, or otherwise could be cut and pasted and used against me, if even by accident. I obviously can't stop lying, out-of-context, or exaggerations ... but I can reduce my pain by keeping my nose clean. At least *I* will feel better, even if only I know the truth.

And thus endeth today's lesson.

Posted by Punkie @ 01:42 PM EST [Link]

Wednesday, December 17, 2003

Angry! plus... Disconnected Events and How they Relate

I am really angry today. I can't tell you why, because it's at work, and I could get people in trouble, or at the very least, mad at each other. The last thing I want is people to be mad at each other, but buddy ... sometimes things are so not my fault, and I have to compensate by someone's lack of planning becoming MY emergency. Thank GOD some coworkers have compensated by helping me out on days they should be on vacation. 'Nuff said.

CR's been really sick since Sunday. I had to stay in from work yesterday, and Christine had to take him to work today. The trouble with asthma as bad as CR's is that even minor colds can develop into horrible chain-reaction asthma attacks. And this is one of those times. He's been on his machine today, and hopefully, we can prevent more loss of school days by getting ahead of the asthma loop. On top of this issue, CR's asthma also makes him allergic to laughter. I think that's blatantly unfair. If he laughs too hard, his lungs spasm, and he stops breathing. He's had this ever since he was a baby, so it's not a psychosomatic thing, but I just have to complain because how can you do this to a person, especially a kid? I worry about him as an adult so much. How is he going to make it out there? I hate asthma. It can go to hell.

Just as a weird comment on an earlier entry: while looking for something else (Slackware 9.1 CDs, if you must know), I kept finding scissors. It's like the poltergeists that steal them read my entry, said, "Oh, crap! He's onto us! Dump and run!" I found a pair between two computers in my SETI array. I found another in the guest room bathroom. I found yet another pair in a kitchen drawer normally used for Tupperware lids, and several more in various unlikely places (including the "secret pair" I lost) making a total of 5 pairs of scissors in one day. Huh. I think it was in one of the Pippi Longstocking books that Pippi made a comment that the best way to find something is to look for something else, but I am not sure. I have taken this concept into my new book, where Koko deliberately looks for hidden objects by asking for something seemingly unrelated, like a code only she knows. For instance, if she wanted to find a mysterious friend of hers, she's ask total strangers if they had any gum. I did this because I have this (rather superstitious) theory that the universe is run by so many unknown forces that you can manipulate the outcome of certain events by doing seemingly unrelated things. It's hard to explain, but here's a more standard example: I need to wear jeans so I can eat. This two things seem unrelated, but this is how I break it down: I need to wear jeans because they have pockets that can hold money so I can use the money to buy food to eat. But to someone who is not familiar with all the steps in between, it seems nonsensical. Now magnify that complexity of chain of events by a thousand. That's why Koko asks strangers for gum when she wants to find Misabel.

Today's mankind's 100th anniversary of motorized flight. People say "Ooh, 100 years of flight," but that's not totally true. Taking out silly things like catapult accidents, you have to remember that on November 21, 1783, the first free flight by humans was made by Pilatre de Rozier and Marquis d'Arlandes who flew aloft for 25 minutes about 100 meters above Paris for a distance of 9 kilometers. A few months earlier, the Montgolfier brothers had demonstrated this was possible by performing their hot air balloon invention at Versailles, before Louis XVI of France, to gain the King's permission for a trial human flight. It was at this demonstration that they sent up the first living beings in a basket attached to the balloon: a sheep, a duck, and a rooster. When Pilatre and Marquis landed in a vineyard, it was said they had to bribe the farmers with champagne to keep them from attacking the balloon with pitchforks (they thought it was some horrific thing sent by the evil forces). It's from this event that the modern word "pilot" comes from (Pilatre's name), and why they still give you champagne after a balloon ride.

Less than two centuries later, the Russians sent a dog into space. Not to be outdone, the US sent a chimp. Now we have a space station. This continuous flinging of animals into the air by humans seems nonsensical to arrive at that end, unless you know the steps in between, I tell you.

Posted by Punkie @ 10:20 AM EST [Link]

Monday, December 15, 2003

Scrooged

Good movie. Has Bill Murray.

I was 12 years old, and about 2 years into what would later be referred to as my "depressed years." Already I was showing signs of being overweight, and apart from my friend Neal, I didn't really have many friends by this point. I had convinced Neal, for some reason, to join choir with me. I joined choir in 6th grade because the music teacher (whose name was Ms. Eisley) was looking to pad out what was a rather thinly populated elementary school choir, and apparently made a rather convincing argument for people to sign up. Maybe I got out of class or something. Anyway, I was dismayed that she split Neal and myself up. Neal was a soprano, I think, and I was an alto, so we got ferreted away to our sections, far apart from each other.

God bless my music teacher. She knew I sung badly. I mean, I knew, but she REALLY knew, and did her damndest to do something... constructive about it. She was never mean or patronizing, she really tried hard to keep my ego from being bruised, and despite a few after-school lessons, it was apparent I was tone deaf, had no rhythm, and just... sang plain awful. I felt more bad for her, seeing the wincing when my lungs cracked out the lyrics like an errant gear messing up an otherwise flawless singing machine. I sang quieter and quieter, and by late October, I just mouthed the words enthusiastically. She must have known, but seemed happier, and that was good enough for me. Besides, one did not have to know the words as perfectly if one did not sing.

"Gregory," she said one day, because all teachers called me by my full name, "Ms. Shaver and I have decided to do a school play this year, 'A Christmas Carol.' I was hoping you'd try out." A play? Me? Sure! And so I did. I didn't have lofty goals, and when I did the auditions, I tried out for some really small part, like constable (three lines). I kept getting "callbacks," and the group of people got thinner and thinner. When we were down to a handful of people, I was asked to practice Fezziwig, and I was thrilled to have such a big part. But then I was called back once more, and asked to try lines from the lead, Ebeneezer Scrooge. At no time did I ever think I would get this part. Two other kids were fighting for it. One was a boy named Jean Bellefue, who was once a friend of mine until a horrible fight in 5th grade (he was a snobby French-Canadian, and a very outspoken racist), and the other was a kid named Nick, whom I practiced trombone with in the band (another bad idea into my foray of being musically inclined). I recall Jean was terrible. He read his lines with the kind of stilted prose like he needed reading glasses and was focusing more on phonetically pronouncing the words correctly than giving them realistic inflection. I knew, in my heart, Nick had the part.

Parts were posted on Ms. Shaver's door. I was eager to see them, but there was such a flurry, I decided I could wait. I think it was one of the girls who came to me first and said, "Y-you got the lead!" No. They wouldn't. So I went to go look, and by this time, everyone was staring at me with a kind of shock and maybe slight reverence. There it was. Right at the top.

Ebeneezer Scrooge ..... Gregory Larson

There must be some mistake! "No," Ms. Shaver said, "we want you. Nick will be your understudy." Nick was to play Fezziwig. Jean got constable. Dude, that can't be right! Jean was VERY mad, but he was a stupid racist by that point anyway, and as a tribute to irony, after 6th grade, his father got transferred to Haiti, and they all had to move there. But now he was just a silent grumbler in the back wings. "Why me?" I asked Ms. Eisley. "Because you are the best actor we've seen for your age." What a nice complement!

My mother made a costume, while I practiced and practiced. I am very bad at memorizing lines, and so I had to do them over and over and over. I was terrified I'd get on stage and forget them. But the two teachers gave us a lot of confidence. There were other actors as well, all good (except Jean, where I was tone-deaf, he was inflection-crippled). I recall Tiny Tim was played by a little first grader named Sarah. She was very small, blond, and shy as anything. But she pulled through. Jacob Marley was played by a girl named Faith whose parents were from India. I recall we had to make her hair gray and ghost-like by putting talcum powder in it, and when that got on her dark skin, she looked very gray and ashen. She also really threw herself into the part, and was quite good for a fifth-grader. In fact, if I ever am haunted by Christmas spirits, Faith would pretty much scare me badly to this day, even if her chains were made from paper and dragged boxes with their UPS labels still on them.

After a month and a half of practicing, we only had two performances. One for the school during the day, and one for the parents at night. The performance went pretty good, but since the day was really our first real run, some odd things happened.

First, there was a scene where I had to change into my night clothes. My "work shirt" was really the top part of a button-down undershirt, so in order to change, I had to take off my pants and coat, put on a cap, and wala! Instant night clothes. Only... we didn't have a place for me to change... except onstage. If I ever had stage fright, I cured it in that scene. Imagine this, a pudgy 12 years old, just hit puberty, and I have to take off my pants onstage. I don't recall feeling too embarrassed, but my goodness, that was comedy gold to the young audience. The kids must have laughed for about ... 2 minutes. I waited (Ms. Shaver had warned me not to say lines while people were laughing or something - another good lesson). I don't recall feeling more than, "Yes yes, pants came off, very funny... let's move on, now." When I did that for the parents? They stood up an applauded. I wasn't prepared for that, but I recall standing in the spotlights, waiting to say my lines, wondering why parents were clapping. My mother said that it showed how brave I was. That was truly odd. The whole experience did less to humiliate me than it did to pretty much cure what little stage fright I might have had.

Another snafu happened at the end when "the boy in the street who gets the goose for Mr. Scrooge" screwed up his lines, halting the scene. The kid's name was Dean, who became a friend of mine for the rest of the year (until he moved away), but I didn't know him as a friend yet. There's a part which goes something like:

Scrooge: You there, boy!
Boy: Yes sir?
Scrooge: Do you know that fat goose that hangs in the poultry man's window?
Boy: Yes sir!

Except he said "No sir," for some reason (I suspect nerves). I paused. The scene stopped cold. I had not been taught to ad-lib yet, so I didn't know how to proceed. So I simply repeated my line. "Do you know that fat goose that hangs in the poultry man's window?" "No sir!" he replied again, almost proud in defiance. "The goose?" I asked, tilting my head hardly at him. Then he froze. That wasn't my next line, and suddenly he was aware something had gone wrong. He paused, and seconds seemed like minutes. "...in the window?" I asked. Hint, hint. "Oh, YES SIR!" he said, realizing his error. "I'll get it straightaway sir!" he cried out, and bolted. I suspect he thought because he missed some lines, he had to catch up by skipping ahead. He left me saying to empty air, "I'll give you two shillings..." Dean was sorry later, but the teacher didn't criticize him at all, and they taught us how to recover from misspoken lines (someone else had screwed up badly in the Fezziwig scene), and that's when I learned how to ad-lib.

After we played for the parents, they loved us. They loved Tiny Tim, especially, because she was so cute and angelic. We really had her looking like a boy, which she took in stride (boys are so icky when you're a first garde girl, after all). And when the final number of "No Man is an Island" was sung, I was holding Sarah's teeny little hand, and recall feeling how ice cold it was.

A parent recorded the whole play for the kids, and gave the parents cassette tapes for those who requested it. I still have my copy. A few years ago, I played it, and I must say, I was not that great an actor. My main problem seemed to be I was TOO focused on the script, and recited the lines, inflection and all, like I was speed-reading. Dickens in 30 seconds or less. Later in my acting "career" I learned how to throw myself into the chracter and use "method acting" (where the cliche "what's my motivation?" comes from), and use dramatic pauses to let the audience think and carry over ideas. But I was 12, and I don't hate myself for it. I had to start somewhere. At least by the time I was doing Prune Bran, I had it all figured out, because comedy is all about timing and method.

The whole experience changed me. It made me want to take up acting (which never really went anywhere, another story), gave me confidence onstage, and... the story of Scrooge changed a lot about who I was. I think, in some really corny way, it did give me the spirit of Christmas that was so lacking in our house. It taught me, on a deep level, a moralistic lesson about misplaced opportunity, the consequences of greed and regret, as well as how it's never too late for retribution. I know it seems trite and corny and like a bad Hallmark movie, but it did. It really did. The story is part of who I am. I watch the various versions every year, drinking in the lessons it teaches me, and every year I get another angle on who Scrooge was, what he meant, and what Dickens was trying to say (a writer, whose works I otherwise think of as too wordy and dull).

It's a rare, good Christmas memory.

So, Merry Christmas everyone... no bah humbug from me!

Posted by Punkie @ 08:32 AM EST [Link]

Sunday, December 14, 2003

On money, on decor, on Donner and Blitzen!

Well, this weekend has certainly been interesting...

First, my primary credit card was canceled earlier in the week. Why? It seems we have been doing a fair bit of shopping online, and Mastercard called our house when we were all at work. Since we didn't answer, they assumed our card had been stolen, and closed it. Now, I feel two ways about this. One, I appreciate the service trying to protect me, but on the other hand... they could have left voice mail or something to call us back. I mean, I had another card to complete my food purchase, but that was a scare for a while. This has now been rectified.

Monday, I have to speak to the bank AGAIN, because they have... you guessed it, rejected my work's paycheck. My work somehow got it in their head I needed to be paid, because they mailed it to my house (few days before I was supposed to get it, I might add). I am amazed, because last time this happened, work simply didn't pay me, and that was a mess, I tell you. On top of this, my bank deposited a personal check we wrote (for CR's school pictures) for $47.25 to be $147.25, and since I have carbon copies in our checkbook, I was able to spot the error when I looked at my online statement. This caused a check to "bounce" against my overdraft account (to keep checks from bouncing, but I get charged a small fee when it does), which is annoying. I also saw my online statement showed my company TRIED to deposit the check, but it was for $0.00. That's right, a payroll deposit for $0.00. On top of that, my bank now charges $2.00 for an out-of-bank ATM withdrawal, *on top* of the $1.50 - $2.50 the foreign ATM charges. I was charged $4.50 for withdrawing $20 two weeks ago. Great. That's a 23% service charge, about what a really sleazy loan shark would charge on the street. It's not all bad news, however. There's a deposit for $34.00 we can't account for (as in, no one deposited it that we know of). I am assuming it's the bank's fault (because, among other things, it shows it as an in-bank deposit on Thanksgiving Day, when banks were closed), and someone with an account number similar to ours is missing $34.00. This has happened before, and it usually takes them about 2 months to say, "Whoops, that's not yours!" and take it back out without notice or an apology. Sadly, it's always for small amounts (in the $20 - $50 range), because I wish it was for $1,000,000 and then I'd close the account, withdraw all the money, and leave no forwarding address.

Saturday I got to Target to spend my gift certificate, and I used part of it to get a watch that turns out... the band is too small for my wrist. In fact, it seems too small for a child's wrist. I am back to square one to get a new watch. I got wrapping paper, a few last-minute gifts, and a few assorted decorations. We also ate at the Bonefish Grill, which was pricey, but the food was good. They opened up the restaurant in the shopping center behind our house, and replaced the old Crown Books that was there (and I still miss). I also saw all over that Zany Brany and the Imaginarium stores were all going out of business. I guess the "educational toy" market couldn't support brick-and-mortar.

When we got home, I did all of my wrapping to get it out of the way. Well, one gift can't be wrapped, because it has to charge in its cradle. I am still a very bad gift wrapper, but this year, most of my present wrapping was actually fairly okay. I usually misjudge how much paper I need, never make neat cuts of the paper, tape gets stuck everywhere, and when I am done, it looks like a misshaped cut of meat in fancy wrinkled butcher paper. Part of the problem is that scissors, like spoons, hammers, and Philip's head screwdrivers, are vanishing commodities in my house. I don't know where they go. I must have bought over 20-30 pairs of scissors since I have gotten married, and the theft rate has gotten so bad, I hide my own pair in a secret place. I once tied them to a lanyard, but the thief used the scissors to cut the lanyard, and I lost those pair within a month. I don't know who takes them, but no one ever fesses up to it. I never borrow Christine's because I am afraid hers will get stolen, too. So I have always blamed poltergeists, and adjust my patterns accordingly. So I went to my secret place, and the scissors were, somehow unsurprisingly, gone. I had a backup pair: a pair of small, dull, blunt-edged, metal scissors often used by elementary schools in the 1970s and 80s. I think they are only never stolen because even the gremlins that take scissors won't touch them. And I don't blame them, they are as dull-edged as a bowling ball. I ended up getting straighter cuts by tearing the paper off the edge of the drywall. But this year, the packages came out... halfway decent. Part of the ease was most of them were already box-shaped, which are easier to wrap than rounded or misshapen objects. But also, I found the "hidden trove" of older wrapping paper, some of them dating back to the mid 90's, and have traveled with us from move to move. When the new paper I bought was all used up, I went to the usable scraps in that box.

We did a lot of Christmas decorating this weekend. I should say, Christine and CR did a a lot of Christmas decorating this weekend. Last weekend, they got the tree. I can't help them with the tree because I have a bad skin allergy to pine. We had the tree out to "drop" (branches drop to their resting positions), acclimate to our home, and deal with the pet problems while there's still no ornaments and lights to fix after the cats have romped through the tree. The cats didn't seem to care about the tree very much, but I think they are biding their time. We're trying to teach Widget to guard the tree, with mixed success. The tree is in a new place this year, and finally in front of a window that faces the street. For those who have been to our house, it's in the upstairs living room, right next to the stair railing, in front of the living room window. Come by and see! But then today, I work up with a SPLITTING sinus headache, the likes of which are rare in my world. I was in dizzying pain, and kept convincing myself that the pain killers would kick in soon for about 6 hours and almost as many pills. After carrying the stored Christmas stuff from the guest room and the attic, I gave up, and went back to bed. A nap finally kicked the headache, but by then, Christine and CR had done most of the work. I feel rotten with guilt, and have a sucking feeling I missed out.

Then, while flipping through channels today, I passed by one of our Spanish channels, and saw, "Saddam fue captura" or something, which photos of a very scraggly-looking Saddam on TV. Holy crap, no! We did it? I switched to CNN to find, yes, we apparently captured Saddam, and the word "spider hole" will probably soon enter popular slang. DNA tests confirm. Wow. Holy cow. Holy holy cow. One down, one left to go. I hope we imprison the guy forever. I fear he'll be killed or executed, and then made a martyr by some misguided people. I want this guy to rot for what he did to his people. One interesting comment I recall hearing was "his followers, who were told to fight to the death for him, were dismayed that he gave up so easily." Well, guess what? I don't think he cared about you.

Merry Christmas, Iraq.

Posted by Punkie @ 11:05 PM EST [Link]

Friday, December 12, 2003

Crazy Poster Boy

I wrote this long entry about Insanity, but it drove me crazy! [ba DUM tssh!]

Seriously, it got way too long for the blog. It seems that work is divided into times where I am doing work, or waiting on people, and over the years, I have learned that I must do a constant stream of work, of SOMETHING, whether it be programming or whatever. Sometimes I'll be working on a program, and I can't take it anymore. So I don't look at it for a few days. Sometimes I have to think of other things non-technical related to "recharge" for a while. But today, I was waiting on some of the most insane things, and it reminded me of a radio show I was listening to where they rated Insanity on such a shallow level (applying it to Hollywood stars), that I said, "You don't know what insane really IS, man!" Then I thought, "Do *I* know what it is?" So I started writing lines that turned into paragraphs, and suddenly, a few days later, I am looking at a 12-page entry (some entries are actually done, abandoned, and then refound days, maybe weeks later). I think I may have to give it its own page.

"Punkie describes sanity. Hah! I'd like to see that!" says the critical voice in my head.

Anyway, I decided to do this entry about a problem I am having: posters. No, not in my comments section, I mean the kind made of thick paper you put on your wall. See, I have a lot of them. Well, it seems like a lot, because it's too many for the wall space I have.

I have some posters up, of course. I have my red foil "Dragonslayer" poster I got at the premiere of the movie. In my office I have a world map, plus a rather new Emily the Strange poster of her at a mad tea party, with her black cat posse, and the title, "We're all strange here..."

I have a few movie posters I haven't unrolled since I bought them. I have a 25th Anniversary Rocky Horror poster, a vinyl teaser for the movie "Tank Girl," the original movie poster for "Short Circuit," and some others in several tubes. Two posters I treasure are gifts from my friend Neal which he gave me a long time ago. Bother are M.C. Escher prints, and I haven't put them up because I want to frame them like the art they are. And I never got a frame because they are a weird shape, and custom frames are so expensive, you'd think they were all made from rare metals and the furs of exotic creatures that cannot be farmed. I have some smaller posters from the 1980s that have a "Wanted: Dead or Alive" theme, but have Star wars characters on them (one of each Luke, Leia, and Han). In 1985, I thought these were very clever. Now, they are yellowed scrolls of fandom embarrassment that I can't bear to throw away.

One poster above them all means a lot to me. I can't go into how or where I got it (confidentiality reasons), but I got it in the late 80s, and it's made by hand from a bunch of kids aged 13-17. For some reason, I really made an impression on younger kids back then, and I helped many of them with their problems. Some of them had serious health problems, and most of the the nurses and doctors were distant, and changed frequently. I acted as a sort of accidental mentor, and when one of them ran for a student office, he asked what his platform slogan should be. "I want something that sounds real smart," he said. "You know smart words. Help me out, man!" So I said (half jokingly), "If elected, I promise to recapitulate phylogeny." This was based on a button I had at the time, "Caffeine Recapitulates Phylogeny," a spoof on Haeckel's Law, "Ontogeny Recapitulates Phylogeny." This was his biogenetic theory that all stages of the womb go through some lower-to-higher animal stage, like a fetus starts as a tadpole, then fish, onto lizard, then dog, goat, ape, and then human... or something like that... totally wrong, of course, disproved in 1866 or something. But that's irrelevant to this story. While the phrase I gave him was meaningless, this kid thought those words were the smartest-sounding words he had ever heard. So he used it, and actually won his class election. He was really grateful, and when I left those kids, all of them made a poster wishing me good things on my journey through life. Many of them have that phrase in them somewhere, like "Thanks for your help recapitulating our phylogenies," and "May all your phylogeny get recapitulated!" Those were some pretty cool kids. I hope they all made it to be healthy adults.

Posted by Punkie @ 09:57 PM EST [Link]

When the world is only measured in travel time...

Man, I have worked too many 10-12 hour days recently. I am totally crispy, and I feel like the more work I do, the farther behind I get.

Last night, I got a ride home late with a coworker. We picked up a Cisco engineer named Carla, who struck me as being a very fannish person in a very ... obscure job. I only heard part of her story, but she's a very well-traveled person who has kind of the personality of a biker chick, Hemmingway, and your average SCA/RennFest nerd all rolled up into one. She's a very free spirit, but in a way, not really attached to anything, so her disconnected social skills kept going out of sync in normal conversation, which were interrupted frequently by her cell phone.

Since I had once worked International, she hooked on to that off and on, and it was nice to have someone corroborate with my "shark bit the cable" stories (oddball telecom stories). She said in Puerto Rico, half the island has pre-WW2 telecom equipment, and no one replaces anything unless it literally burns down or something. She also said she was one of the last people to keep telecom alive in the 1970s during the bombing of Beirut (where she lost a coworker to the fray). But what was really offhandedly impressive, is during cell phone calls where she was tracking down equipment and telling people where she'd be.

"I'm in Virginia, but I'll be down your way in St. Petersburg and then the rest of Russia next week. Don't drop off anything until I get to the lab there in person. Then the week after that, I'll be all over Australia, and I think I'll take some vacation days there, too. Outback or something. I'll be in San Jose when I get back, then I'll go back to Hong Kong, and we can pick up where they left off."

She was traveling almost to all four corners of the globe in less than a month. She spoke of other countries like most people speak of shopping errands. She's probably pretty important to Cisco. But it also reminded me of 1995-98, when I traveled a lot. Not as much as she did, obviously, but in three years, I had been to San Antonio, Cancun, Sweden, Dallas, San Jose, and Boston. I was pretty sick of traveling by then. An itinerary like that, which took me 3 years, would be a typical month for her. I can only imagine what it must be like to see the whole world as small and accessible as she does, but it's also tragic because how could she keep a relationship? Where is home for her? When I asked her where she lived, she said "depends on the week," and when I asked if she had an apartment, she said, "I am in San Jose a lot, but only because Cisco's HQ is there..." I wondered if her personailty was a side effect of her work, or the reason she choses this type of work to begin with.

I know I would totally burn out on a job like that, no matter how much it paid. So it kind of put my recent work hours into perspective, and now I don't feel so bad.

Posted by Punkie @ 09:21 AM EST [Link]

Thursday, December 11, 2003

Retail: Part Deux

From time to time, I think about working retail again. Not drop my career (dear God, no), I mean only part time for two basic reasons.

Part of it's the money thing. Part timers make a lot more than I suspected in many areas. What I used to work for, as a manager, is now considered minimum wage. I saw a book store hiring clerks at $7.80/hr. If I worked there, I'd make about $400 extra a month (after taxes) if I worked 20-hour weeks. I could sure use that. Not as fun money but, "worry a lot less about sudden expenses" money.

But also I feel I am kind of losing touch with real people. Yes, when you work retail, some people suck, but I had always found that a majority of people were nice, interesting, and it helped keep me polite and patient. I lost a lot of that with the tech industry. It's made me a bit bitter and kind of sarcastic. I used to be a lot friendlier with strangers, but now I am all "get out of my way, slowpoke!" and such. I'm still nice to retail and service people, though; I haven't gotten that disconnected.

Then there's also other perks, like working with something I like (books, knives), and getting an employee discount on said items.

Drawbacks? You bet!

There's the "being on my feet" thing I worry about. I have a lot more aches and pains than I used to. I have gained about 40 pounds since my last retail job in 1996, aged several years, and I am out of shape from a job where I sit most of the time. I fear I might hurt my back, knee, or ankle ... again. I figure some of those can be fixed with soft braces or wraps, but that won't deal with what will at first be exhaustion. I am tired a lot now, I can't image how tired I'd be if I was on my feet for an extra 4 hours a night on weekdays. Or maybe it would help me get into shape. I don't know.

Christine and CR don't want me to take a second job because then they'd never see me, and when they did, I'd be tired. Also, I am the guy who does the housework, like cleaning, laundry, repair, finances, yardwork, and sometimes cooking. If I took a job, suddenly our house would be a mess, no one would have clean clothes, and our money would all be gone from too much takeout. Time = money, but the reverse is also true. I'll tell you what, my writing career would not happen, and this blog would get pretty stale pretty quick.

I did the "work at home" thing for a few years, like doing web design, consulting work, graphics, and so on ... but I hated that, and a lot of the jobs ended badly or abruptly. Some of them were under the table, too, which made me nervous, although I wasn't doing anything illegal. In at least two cases, I was doing work that someone else was being paid for, but he didn't have the time or skills to do it, so he paid me to do it. And I never made enough money to even warrant a report on my taxes. But I got taken advantage of. A lot. I learned that "favors" quickly become "expectations" without extra pay. Being nice burned me, and I don't want to take a job where being nice is punished.

I probably wouldn't consider this so much if it weren't for the fact our finances are not so good. I mean, they are not TERRIBLE, but my mortgage just went up $100 (property taxes, insurance) and some home repairs we have been "meaning to get to" are turning into "rather urgent problems." I have no money to fix these things, and the longer I wait, the more expensive the fix becomes. And the less money I have. The cost of living here, what with utilities, taxes, transportation, food prices, and so on have increased as well. Our income has only increased marginally, about 1-2% a year, which doesn't even cover inflation. Our savings are almost gone, and our stock portfolio has flat-lined with the market. Our jobs are also not the most stable around; Christine's work just closed an office, and we just fired a ton of people in our California branch.

But I resent the pressure to get a second job. I want to get a second job for "gee whiz" money and to meet people. If I work for Chesapeake Knife and Tool again, I don't want to think of it as a job, but doing something I like in an industry full of strange and interesting people. And if the management sucks, I only have to put up with them part time. Or quit and not worry about it.

I am the same way with my writing career. The chances of me becoming the next JK Rowling or Steven King are remote, even if I am a good writer, a lot of it is timing, marketing skill, and sometimes just dumb luck.

We shall see.

Posted by Punkie @ 11:26 AM EST [Link]

Wednesday, December 10, 2003

... And Wil Wheaton responds!

You might have thought I was kidding about asking Wil Wheaton, a famous blogger, for advice about Trinity7. Wil's been through a lot, and often the best place to get advice is not from someone above it all, but who's been there. Don't ask a consultant for answers, ask the men in the trenches. So I asked him if he edited HIS comments (and his blog gets a lot). His answer was like from a good tarot reader:

From: wil_@t_wilwheaton.net

-----BEGIN PGP SIGNED MESSAGE-----
Hash: SHA1

Grig Larson combined 1s and 0s thusly:
> But part of me feels like I'd be cheating if I deleted every
> poster that doesn't agree with me. Am I just a whimp?

There is a world of difference between someone who doesn't agree with you, and
someone who is an asshole. My best friend and I rarely agree on anything, but
he's not an asshole, and I try not to be one either.

Keep in mind, also, that people project on you how they feel about themselves.
happy people tend to compliment, while unhappy people tend to attack. At the
end of it all, it's got very little to do with *you* or *me*.

Does that help you?

Wil

Yes, Wil, it did. Thank you for setting my head on straight.

Posted by Punkie @ 06:21 PM EST [Link]

Children of the December Sorrow

I have to pause here because VB.NET is just so frustrating. I hate Microsoft products so much, I wouldn't be surprised if it gave me a heart attack one day.

Anyway, it looks like Christine's party is going have guests after all! After the initial sendout, a lot of people either waffled or said they couldn't come, but now that's starting to change. The guest list was 21 invited (expecting 15 to show), and then it was down to 4, but now it's crept back up to about 20. I really hope this goes well! We're going to Hama Sushi, which is a small sushi restaurant nearby that wins awards every year for the area's best sushi. That's no small feat. And it is deserved.

But of course, the underlying frustration is that having a birthday near, or in Christine and our friend Moria's case, ON Christmas ... totally, irrevocably, sucks. I can only say it sucks by proxy because my birthday was only after first quarter's report cards came out a week earlier. This sucked because there was always an air of disappointment in the house that I was not a straight-A student, and so my birthday was a kind of "regretful pardon" like the kind you give to a Mafia don who got off because of a technicality. But that pales in comparison to having a birthday near or on Christmas.

The first thing you notice as a kid is that no one ever remembers. The holiday hustle and bustle robs your chance of celebrating your birth. It's like celebrating it with a more popular twin. It's also bloody hard to get guests because people are always going to holiday parties, or they are out of town with relatives. The closer to Christmas you are born, the more likely your party has to be a week or more away from the actual date. Birthday parties lose magic when they are held off-kilter to the actual day. I mean, if you birthday falls on a Wednesday, and you have the party on a Saturday before or after, that's not so bad. But if you date falls on Dec 24th, and you are forced to hold it the weekend of Dec 3rd, or January 8th ... it feels like you've been cheated. Like you've been bumped from the schedule as unimportant, secondary lodge meeting.

Christine's own mom forgot her daughter's birthday several times. Her own mom, and in the house growing up, there was only the two of them. This is how bad it can get.

The second terrible thing is the gift department. This totally sucks as a kid, when gifts are everything. You have no job, no money, and unless your parents are wealthy and you have an allowance, you really have no way to get anything you want. Thus, you depend on others to get them for you, and already you're at a disadvantage. Most American kids get gifts on three days a year: Christmas, Easter, and their birthday. Easter is usually a small basket of candy, maybe a toy or two, so the other two account for maybe 90% of what you receive. Now, if you are unlucky enough to have your birthday near Christmas, many people give you one gift as "both a Christmas and a birthday present." Usually with a stupid grin. Rarely is the gift worth two. It's like they are taking advantage of your situation and saving a few bucks in the process. As the kids used to say, "What a gyp!" In statistical terms, that's 45% of your income gone. Almost half.

I am not so sure if being Jewish makes it better. Bruce?

So now you feel forgotten and cheated. What could make it worse? Patronization. "You must feel so lucky to celebrate your birthday with the baby Jesus," and "You were a special present for your mom and dad." No. It is not special. You do not understand at all. Let's cancel your birthday, give you a "combo gift" on another unrelated day, and then see how special YOU feel. But you can't say anything because you look bad, ungrateful, and bitter.

So I want to be that voice for them. I want to stand up for those who are tired of losing 45% of what circumstance has taken from them. I want to start a sensitivity campaign for Christine, Moria, Bruce, and those others who may have felt cheated, alone, and depressed on the holiday season due to circumstances beyond their control. I'll call it, "Children of the December Sorrow." You can help!

Make a point to remember the actual birthday. Make a phone call, send an e-mail, do something that only mentions the birthday, on the birthday, and don't mention Christmas at all. Treat Christmas in the conversation like an uncomfortable memory you wouldn't bring up unless they do.

Never give a "combo gift." Get two gifts, or if you can only afford one because of your holiday spending spree, most Children of the December Sorrow would rather get a birthday gift than a Christmas one.

Never, ever mention having a birthday near Christmas as a good thing. If you ask, "When's your birthday?" and they say, "December 23rd," go, "Oh, I am so sorry..." and buy them some chocolate. Immediately.

Together, we can help a few of them not feel so bad.

Posted by Punkie @ 11:37 AM EST [Link]

Tuesday, December 9, 2003

Flame on!

Well, today's been interesting.

If I may be so geeky to quote Obi-wan Kenobi from Star Wars, "Who's the more foolish? The fool or the fool who follows him?" I really can't feel bad about someone so stupid that they feel the need to read my stuff and then complain about it. "Doctor, it hurts when I do this, what should I do?" "Stop doing that." Who are they complaining to? Me? Someone else who reads? There's a line we shout at Rocky Horror when Dr. Scott talks to the camera, "Who are you talking to?" you say, then you exclaim like an afterthought, "Hell, who am *I* talking to?" Every day, I see some dumb post in a message board, or some web page that has what I think are the dumbest opinions in the world, but I don't post in their comments section some sarcastic snide remark, because, wow ... that's so pathetic. I can't even feel bad about this "Trinity7" guy because it's his fault he keeps reading my stuff.

Yeah, he's a troll. I know. And I shouldn't have engaged a troll, like rule #3 on public forums. But part of me has this naive sense of justice that I can stick it to him. But like I told a friend of mine once, when he got caught in a verbal insult war at a movie theater between obnoxious preteens, "Even if you win, they won't know. They're 12!" Trinity7 won't know. He's a pathetic wannabe of a has-been. Most people like that use sarcasm because they don't actually have anything useful to say, so they say it aggressively and patronizingly, hoping you'll buy in on their superiority mask. But it's all for show.

Of course, *I* was using sarcasm as well in my replies. And I'd be a liar if I said it was different when *I* used sarcasm. No, it's just as dumb, but I couldn't help myself ... it was so fun, and I had just drank a cup of coffee, so I was a bit punchy. It was like a challenge, even though I know it was pretty useless and setting a bad example. Still, I am the one who still has an Atari ST. And I wanted him to keep posting so I could triangulate a tricky connection trace (I had to capture it live, not in post-trace), and I knew he'd take the bait. I REALLY wanted to say slimy sarcastic stuff like, "Please stop posting mean things, your words are like fists..." but I that seemed a little too manipulative, and I didn't want my friends to think I was hurt, because then they'd be all over this guy, like the regrettable incident of the BBS-that-shall-not-be-named. Of course, he made my wife mad, but she can handle her own. I have seen what she's capable of. Who's the bear now? Doh!

I love her. Christine's response was like icing on the cake.

Still, when incidents like this happen, I question the wisdom of a comments section. I get some good, quality input (like Malle Babbe and Andy), but then I get people like Benny and Trinity7. I wonder what other bloggers do? Do they just delete rude comments? What's the criteria? I'd hate to think I just remove comments that make me mad, that seems like cheating and false advertising. "Look, people only say good things about me..." But none of those comments had anything to do with marriage, and I feel if someone was to want to read the comments, thinking they'd get good marriage tips, they'd be put off by what is essentially a flame war between an idiot and the idiot that followed him (me).

I looked at other blogger's sites, and looked for negative comments. None. Now, I know that comments sections get trolls and spams. So they must be weeding them out, right? I know, I'll ask the Internet's Wil Wheaton! He'll know what to do! [Batman swirly music]

[ Meanwhile, back at the Bat Cave... ]

One of my friends jumped in on this, and dug up a wealth of speculation. He's up to something...

Posted by Punkie @ 07:56 PM EST [Link]

Thoughts on Loyalty

Sometimes I wonder about loyalty. I was talking to someone who said her cats were more loyal than people because "at least you know where you stand with cats: their loyalty is a constant, even if it isn't adoration." I suppose so. Dogs are more loyal in the adoration department but I know mine can be bribed to do almost anything for food. If it's love and attention versus food, food almost always wins. But does that make them more "loyal" because their lack of loyalty is a constant? It makes them easier to manipulate, so maybe not.

But I think I agree on humans and loyalty. This may not be a total truth, but I think it's a general truth because a human will only put up with so much over their best interests. But where those "best interests" lie is such a variable between people that it's hard to gauge. They say loyalty cannot be earned through fear, but respect. I am not sure about that, either. Some people might say respect really comes from subliminal fear, either from fear of loss, or fear of the person they are loyal to getting back at them. I don't know what to believe because I see examples of each.

I bring this up because I see a lot of misplaced loyalty. Loyalty to people and friends is a good thing, and I approve of that in most cases. But loyalty to something like a genre or style seems like a waste of time. One such misplacement seems to be over stuff like computer operating systems or TV and movie series.

Back in 1988, I got an Atari 1040 ST. It was a nice computer for its time. One whole megabyte of memory, sound, midi, and all the trimmings. I lived in a house where people were Atari ST enthusiasts. We went to NOVATARI meetings, I was a regular poster on the board ARMUDIC, and we thought the Amiga and Macs sucked. I have an ST in my closet now, sitting unused. I sold my Atari when I was strapped for cash, and then got another one (same model) a few years later from a friend who saw it at some flea market for $10 and just had to get me one for the "fun value" of it. I last booted it up in 1998, and the monitor cable was flaky, and I don't know if my floppy disks are still good. Where was my loyalty to the Atari computers of old? My loyalty and even flame wars about the Atari were wasted energy in the long term. I almost burn with embarrassment at the stuff I said back then, and sometimes go into a semi-denial by saying, "Atari was good ... for it's time." Maybe so. The Trammels, the family that bought out Atari and practically drove it into the ground, did not care if I was loyal or not. I felt betrayed. And I was stupid.

I have also been stupid of some former friends. I am not going to mention any because that's not nice, but I have had a few in my past whom I was pretty loyal to, even though people told me they were nuts, I was blinded, and it turned out that they were right. I haven't had any recently, and part of that is because I now know "signs when someone is going nuts and will drag you down with them." Keeping my hands out of the crazy, as it were. Over time, I have gathered enough friends I do trust around me to tell me the truth, too. And many of them I have known for a long time I am pretty loyal to, although if they started doing very bad things, that loyalty would drop pretty quickly. What are very bad things? This was my original problem when I was younger, I didn't have a good set of moral rules that they could cross. But now I have adopted my own line of morals and set of guidelines. They aren't perfect, and they may be too annoying for some to adopt, but a common example is if anyone I knew started killing people, that's a good reason to drop loyalty. It gets harder when there's a group of people, and a friend splits off. That friend could turn out to be the madman, or the most sane one around! It's so hard to tell. I have a rule of thumb that if I have to chose between two friends, I don't chose the one that asks me to make the choice. Like if Bob and Betty split up, and Betty tells me she won't be friends with me if I stay friends with Bob, I feel that Betty isn't a good friend if she does this, and so I'll probably lose her down the road anyway. Then again, what if Bob is totally nuts? I have been grateful that I haven't been in this crux in over ten years, but when friends of mine split up or split off, I pray they will be mature enough to handle if I stay friends with both of them. Of course, with groups, this becomes a problem, like if the group splits into two factions of several people each. If one by one, people leave in a steady trickle, that's often easier to pick because the club as a whole is dying off anyway. But if some club I am a member of suddenly becomes "the Bob people" and "the Betty people," I end up waffling so much, I end up making enemies on both sides because not choosing is almost like saying you hate both sides. Bah! This is why I hate politics so much, but they are a standard fact of life, so I must weather them just like everyone else; I'm not special.

So I watch people on tech boards and irc chats who claim "FreeBSD is better than..." and "Slackware Linux is better than..." Ya'll going to hate yourself in 10 years, you know that, right? And unlike the real world, the Internet archives your words for decades. I see some stuff I said on Usenet in 1991 I'd rather take back now. Being fanatically loyal to some computer operating system or distro that probably won't even be around in the next copule of years is kind of... well, a waste of time.

I think the only undying, uncompromised loyalty I have is to Christine. And what if SHE started killing people? My loyalty is stemmed from the fact I know she won't. She is one of the most decent and honest people I know, and I trust her implicitly. She could really fuck me up if she wanted to, but she doesn't. I realize this is rare in today's world, and that makes me cherish it even more.

More than Linux. :)

P.S.: But Linux is still cool beans!

Posted by Punkie @ 11:41 AM EST [Link]

Monday, December 8, 2003

Cool Shirt - Limited Time

This is going to seem weird, but ah hell, who cares.

YA3WAT (Yet Another 3WA Thing). Yes, I know Sara A. and I don't get along, but even though I can't change other people's opinions, I still think her board is pretty cool. A lot of good people with some good ideas are on that board, and they are having another fund raiser through Cafe Express. This logo has to be one of the funniest logos I have seen in a while and they have had it before. I think it's a combo from ready.gov and some of her own artistic spin from clip art.

Sara A. made this one phrase I still use, "One thing I have learned is to keep you hands out of the crazy." I don't know why I like that quote so much, but it's true, and it's pretty funny with that logo, with hands being crushed into gears of someone else's psychodrama. Many times my life has been messed up because I had my hands in the crazy. I care about people, I really do, but sometimes you just have to pull your hands away and go, "You know what... I am no longer a part of this..." Intelligence will tell you to keep your hands out of the crazy, but wisdom will tell you when that happens. I am still gaining wisdom thought the "Oh no, not another learning experience" moments...

Anyway, it's a great logo, and if you are looking for a great gift, and want to support a board full of witty, smart, and cool people (who are also some of the web's most kick-ass journalists), pick out something from their shop. I created the "WW3WD" (What Would 3WA Do?) idea, and also have the "Forbidden Smiley," (created by Dark Sidhe) which always commands attention wherever I go.

Posted by Punkie @ 01:11 PM EST [Link]

Mawwage... mawwage is bwot bwings uff togevaa... todaay....

Some recently asked in a discussion, "So for those who are married: is it what you thought it would be? Did it surprise you - good or bad? Would you do it again?" Good question. Mine was no, yes, and yes.

I can't say marriage is "what I thought it would be" because I didn't go into it thinking "it will be this and that and beer and skittles." No, I distinctly said something to the effect of, "I will see what happens, and try and work it towards the common good." I had never been married before, but I had seen many times what DIDN'T work, and so I decided to use that, and find something that did. The first few years had some bounces and we matured, but with all our troubles, all we had was each other, so we grew together. I have respected Christine as an equal partner. I do not judge her mistakes, nor do I think she's vindictive or neglectful. Maybe I'm just lucky.

The biggest "anti-models" were my own parents of course. My father was pretty mean and distant, and my mother was living in Fantasy Land that everything would be okay if we'd just appreciate what we still had. Some of my friends had it even worse. I have always wondered if a divorce would have been good for me, if I didn't know then what I knew now. Some of my friends didn't have to wonder. I had a friend who had a Jewish mother and a Catholic father, both freshly divorced, and neither wanted to be a parent anymore, but demanded that their religion be the "guiding factor in Junior's life." Some of my friends had several step-dads, even in addition to their biological dad, whom they may or may not have ever met. I once stayed overnight at a house where the father, a retired army man, treated everyone in his family like "recruits," down to inspection and morning Revile. Many had homes where a single, working mom, left them notes with cash on the fridge.

We've had a few surprises. Most I won't go into here, but I think the biggest one for me was that she actually stayed. I am not the best person in the world to get along with sometimes. I am naive, somewhat dimwitted when it comes to understanding people, I don't clean the house as frequently as I should, I am not as good a cook as she is, I have weird allergies, I have a lot of childhood baggage, I am not particularly usefully talented, nor a good strong manly-man, and I have oddball friends, and tend to be too logical at the wrong moments. Most women would have left me, and I knew that then, and know that now. But she stayed, and doesn't even complain about it.

She loves me, and I mean, truly loves me. That makes me feel so good, I couldn't even tell you.

Would I do it again? Hell yes! Of course, I have mixed feeling about "if I knew then what I know now," because sometimes, being dumb and making mistakes at the right moments can have its advantages.

I always have advice for people thinking about getting married. I have no idea if it's useful, but a lot of it was passed on to me, so I feel I should pass it on to you. Sorry it's kind of random.

- Take the top ten annoying things about your future spouse, and magnify it ten times. Imagine you have to spend the rest of your life with it. If that's still okay (and you aren't stubbornly in denial to prove something to someone else), you'll be okay.

- Imagine if your future mate became grossly disfigured and disabled. Would you stay with them? The answer should be, "Well, DUH!" or something close to that, with no pauses.

- Stop all games. You both need to say how you feel, without using the other's care for you as a tool of manipulation. Games like "Guess why I am mad?" and "If I do this, you'll think that" are totally useless and childish. Same with revenge games. Leave patronization and sarcasm for the snobs, who need them to bolster up their shields to disguise the fact they don't know as much as they think others should.

- Marry someone for what they really are, not what they look like or how you'll "mold them." That guy who cheats on you while dating WILL cheat on you when he gets married, too. The girl who looks like a model now will not after she carries your child, ages, and gets the flu. Wants to be babied? Will always wanted to be babied. And unless they have an Oedipus complex, in a few years, they will be cheating on you because you replaced the mommy figure, and now they'll want to wander for a new sex toy.

- Understand equality is not a 50/50 on everything. Some of you will be good at some things, while the spouse may be better at others. You should complement each other's talents. If you spend you life balancing out who last walked the dog, you're in a contract, not a partnership, and contracts are a lot easier to break.

- Let your spouse have their own social life in addition to sharing. This is how new thoughts, ideas, and conversation enter into the relationship. You don't have to spend 100% of the time with each other, or you will get sick of each other.

- Show interest and foster new talents and crafts in your spouse. Same reasons as above.

- Catch them doing something right more that something wrong.

- Keep in mind those that write self-help books and articles are often divorced and have no idea what goes on in YOUR specific home. I don't care of they have a Ph.D. in General Cleverness, throw the book away and use common sense!

- Stop reading this and go make out with your loved one!

Posted by Punkie @ 01:31 AM EST [Link]

Sunday, December 7, 2003

Dramatic Snow People

People out here panic when it snows. I have no idea why.

When I was young, my mother (who grew up in Chicago) could not understand why people freaked out so much about impending snowfall. And she really hated it when they predicted snow just before her normal shopping day. She told me the worst were these older suburbanite ladies who would literally clean out the shelves of all canned food. She told me once that some woman was literally cleaning out the shelves with a scooped arm, not even looking at the cans. Most people also bought huge amounts of bread, milk, and eggs and then they are gone. It was always bread, milk, and eggs. It's still true, and I wonder why? I used to have this boss who joked these were "French Toast emergencies," because what else could they be making with those ingredients? [as a side note: to those at PhilCon? Apparently when I posted this story to the BWSMOF list, someone in PhilCon staff got the bright idea to serve this as your Sunday breakfast, so if you hate French Toast, that's my fault... sorry...]

Over the years, the level of panic waxes and wanes. As I have said before, we're a pretty transitory area, so every four years or presidential change, a new wave of people move in, and we have to start the training all over again. Sometimes the area over-prepares, and sometimes it doesn't prepare enough. I recall during one huge blizzard in 1996, the mayor of DC went to Bermuda, leaving the whole city in a total panic (yes, he's the one that took cocaine). Other times they have this media panic that couldn't match a nuclear winter if it happened. Fox 5 news is the worst. It's so bad, it's like some farce on real news. Most of the writing the anchors have to real is stilted prose like it was written by an overdramatic teen in her diary.

Dear viewers. OMG! Snow! So much, like I was walking around, and stuck rulers in the drifts and junk, and no lie, it was like, a FOOT deep! We may be stuck here for DAYS! I am bundling up because it will be cold, too! WTF? My life is SO tragic, like I am sure! The Metro is preparing for THE STORM OF THE CENTURY and they have like, de-icing trains, and the busses will try and run on schedule, but don't slip and fall under the bus because it might run under your legs and YOU WILL DIE! I am so staying home. No school. This sucks! Save yourselves!

So I have to watch crap like "Storm of the Century: Blizzard 2003 - live updated coverage." They have these poor Johnny-on-the-spot reporters in some slushy area of DC with plastic rulers, exclaiming that snow has "already become 2 inches deep in just 4 hours!" The news goes into a micro-fact frenzy, and they blast news specials on frostbite, getting trapped in your car, and all kinds of patter. I feel old, because I find myself saying, "Blizzard of 77. Three feet deep with an ice crust on top. No school for a week, and my friends made tunnels in drifts that we could stand up in. You couldn't shovel because there was nowhere to shovel TO. Our town was shut down for days." If we had that now, I am sure Fox5 News would start speculating on glaciers.

ICE AGE 2003! [Dramatic music - lots of computer graphics] Don't panic, but this IS how glaciers start. Exclusive Fox5 Glacier-cam shows that, yes, some large chunks of ice, some as big as a car, are forming around the Potomac River. Could this mean the new Ice Age? A scientist in a white lab coat we spoke to, Thomas Holtz at the Smithsonian, an expert on things that happened a log time ago like Ice Ages and all that stuff, could not stop laughing, perhaps he was hysterical with fear, but it's too early to tell ... back to you in the studio.

And people drive so BADLY through the snow. Too many people drive WAY too fast, and even more drive WAY too slow. What's really bad is all those people in their SUVs which think they are immune to ice and snow banks. Today, I have to go to Baltimore to finish the job I started on Tuesday, and I am going to have to deal with Pokey and Speedy on the highways.

Posted by Punkie @ 09:26 AM EST [Link]

Friday, December 5, 2003

First Snow

It's snowing, it's snowing, yaaaaaaaaay! Right now, it's about 6 inches deep, and still coming down (although not as heavy as it was earlier). They predict another few inches by tonight, and it will snow all day tomorrow.

My father always hated snow. Maybe that's what started me liking it so much. My parents grew up in the slums of Chicago, and my father used to speak of 10 foot snow drifts (but nothing about walking barefoot uphill both ways). When we first moved to the DC area, I recall my first snow was a magical event. It started late one evening, and I watched the snow fall to the ground. There was a street light in front of our house, and I'd see the halo of snow gently fall. My mother put on these obnoxious yellow rubber boots, and I ran around, in the dark, in about an inch of snow, enjoying every minute of it. My father got very angry at this, and while he did not expressly forbid me playing in the snow, he complained a lot when it happened.

Another snow memory occurred when I was in first or second grade. They closed school because of snow. My mother was kind of drunk and out of it, so my father said, "Go to school." I was about 6 or 7 at the time, and told him the radio said school was closed. This was before I figured out that arguing with him, no matter how much proof I had about anything, was useless. Even when the radio said, "All Fairfax County Schools are closed. All busses have stopped running," my father countered with some story about how that was to separate those who were "serious about school from those who weren't" and this was a test of some sort. He even made it sound like there'd be some sort of reward in it for me when I got there. The snow must have been about a foot deep, and it was coming down pretty hard. I stood by the bus stop for a while, and one car slowed down and said, "Didn't you know there's no school today?" I didn't say anything, and didn't even make eye contact because I wasn't supposed to talk to strangers. The man eventually gave up and drove off. When my father passed by my bus stop, he laughed and said, "Greg-gry, no bus is going to pick you up. You'll have to walk." When I cried that it was too far, he told me that this was nothing. He had to walk in deeper snow in Chicago, and they would have NEVER closed school for something as mundane as snow. My crying made him angry, and he told me I'd be late and get in trouble if I didn't start walking NOW! So I walked to school. It was about a mile, and the way was pretty straight, and most of it did have sidewalks. It might have been slightly uphill, and because I didn't know any better, I just walked down Southridge to Great Falls Road, and followed Great Falls to school. It wasn't a bad walk, really. My school bag swung by my side (for reasons unknown to me, until sixth grade, my school bag was a series of bowling ball bags my mother would find), and I tried to walk in areas where the snow was shallow. I stopped to rest here and there for a few moments, then trudged on. I recall thinking how peaceful everything was. There was a soft silence, interrupted only by a rare passing car driving slowly in the crunchy snow that sounded like squeezing a bag of cornstarch. All sounds were muted, and the fat, gentle flakes rested on my face. It wasn't windy, just... real quiet and peaceful. I didn't have a watch, so I didn't know how long it took me, but I am guessing probably about an hour or so. By the time I saw the school, I imagined it would be dry and warm, and I could sit at my desk and Ms. Shanis, my teacher, would be very proud of me that I showed up. The last block was the worst, though, because I had to go through an area where there were no sidewalks, and there was a busy road. I fell a few times, because now the snow was very deep (up to my butt, whereas before I started, it was only up to my knees). The plow had been by, and I had to climb a mushy ramp to cross the road, and I slipped and fell, scraping my face up on the road. I recall I was terrified that a car would run over me, but there was no car in sight. I slogged through the soft and powdery snow through the school parking lot, and when I got to the doors, there was a welcoming committee in front of a warm fire, where cheerful hurdy-gurdy music played, and I got hot cocoa, warm chestnuts, and a trophy... okay, no. Actually, I got to the awning under our front doors, and the doors were locked. Well, one wasn't, but it was chained shut because the lock didn't work. I knocked. I waited. The lights were off. No one came. I sat on the wide stoop for a while, figuring someone would come along eventually. The snow that was already on me was melting through my clothing, and I was cold as hell. I don't know how much time went by, but thankfully, the awning kept most of the snow away from me. This may seem sad, but actually, all I recall was feeling kind of bored. I had a library book in my bag, so I read that over and over. Sometimes I'd go out in the snow, which was now past my waist, and play a little until I got too cold and wet. Finally, I saw a lone figure trudge across the snow in the parking lot. It was a woman in a long, brown trenchcoat. A teacher? Finally? No, actually, it was Mrs. Carlton, a neighbor of mine from across the street. Apparently, someone had told her there was some kid in front of the school, and since she was on the PTA, she was sent to investigate. She was a little shocked it was "the Larson boy" and she incredulously asked why I was there. I told her, and she said, "You have to come home with me! There is NO school, no matter WHAT your parents might have told you!" She took me home, but no one answered the door, so I got to play at her house with her son Pat, whom I knew from school. The rest of the day was fairly fun, and when my father came home, I was sent home, and I pretended like nothing happened. And thus ended my snow adventure.

(When my mother got sober later, she was a little angry about the whole thing, but promised me I didn't have to go to school if it was closed on account of snow anymore. For about two years, the plan was if they closed school, I stayed in my room while my mother distracted my father, and he went to work.)

Some of the best snows I recall were the "big ones" which used to happen every 4 years or so. There was a big one in 1977, where it snowed several feet, and everything was shut down for a week. My father was even forced to stay home. The sun came out one day, melted the top a little, then refroze so we'd make these tunnels with ice skylights. The most memorable was three huge storms, one right after the other, in 1987. I was trapped at my friend Kate's house for a week, which wasn't so bad. We watched cable TV, made cookies, and watched all of the Pekingese try and deal with snow several times deeper than they were high. We forced our poor friend Jason to walk in the snow to come join us one day, as I recall. Sorry Jason! I still have photos from then, I wonder if I can find them today and put them up?

[Added later: here you go!]

Oh, and I have put up our Holiday portraits! You can see one of all of us here and the one of just the doggies here.

Posted by Punkie @ 11:12 AM EST [Link]

Thursday, December 4, 2003

Ode to FanTek

I have been busy, but one of the big things that has happened to me was that my friends Bruce and Cheryl have announced that they are no longer going to run conventions. Not for a while, and maybe never again. If conventions come back, it won't be in a form that they are now. The full letter is on their FanTek page. FanTek will still be around, with events at The House, and so on, but their cons are officially no more after EveCon 21.

I have mixed feelings about this, but I have concluded in my heart they have done the right thing. I did sort of know about this ahead of time, and Cheryl gave me her personal thoughts on this, and I gave her my personal thoughts, most of which will be expressed here. Bruce and Cheryl are, first and foremost, my friends. They helped me when I was down, took me in when I had nowhere to live, fed me when I had no food, and taught me a lot of lessons about the real world I never got at home. They weren't perfect, no, but nobody is, really. It seems in fandom you either loved them or hated them, and frankly, most of the people that hated them I didn't like much anyway for other reasons. The rest, I figure, just misunderstood. To me, they are my family. And like family, we all love each other, flaws and all (and I am certainly no perfect angel ... if they can put up with me, I feel they are better people than I am). And for the last few years, I have seen the cons drag them into misery. I helped where I could, in my own modest way, which I still feel guilty wasn't enough. Bruce and Cheryl as people, not "the legends," are doing well. This was a joint decision made from love. Bruce and Cheryl are both starting new careers, and they are as close as ever. At this point, and this is my opinion, the cons were "the old way" in their lives. And the old way was no longer needed, and was tying them down, making them unable to grow.

Of course, I'll miss the cons terribly. I'll miss the people first and foremost. I can't even count how many friends I made through FanTek, and FanTek alone. Sure, we've had some bad apples from time to time, and sometimes people got mad and left in a huff, but I knew a good thing when I saw it and stayed. The cons taught me patience, tolerance, humility, and unconditional care. The rewards of late night jam sessions, sleepy chats in the lobby, spaced-out chats when we were all up too late. I met some of the smartest people I have ever known. They didn't focus on guests, but we had a few famous authors and a few celebrities come by anyway. In FanTek, no one was "exalted" to a degree like other cons can sometimes do. There was no "green room," really. No way to separate one group of people from another.

From my first fully paid, multiple day EveCon 2, FanTek was to be my guide to a better future. I had spent a day at Worldcon (Constellation), and Balticon 18, but EveCon was much different. It seemed to be run by more down-to-earth people who didn't mind I was so young (16) at the time.

The links of people who change my life start at FanTek cons. Here's just a few examples:

Met Betty at EveCon 2, bought a dragon from her, and was on a panel with her and Jim at EveCon 4. They introduced me to Joann, and all three of them introduced me to Christine. Christine and I had CR. Betty and Jim introduced us properly to Wicca, too. Joann posthumously later introduced me to Sara (Sawa), which is an odd story in itself. betty and Jim are now "Elspeth and Nybor," biggies in the Spiritual Nature community.

From FanTek cons, I met " ... and the Prune Bran Players," and ended up writing for them. This helped me start my book, and gave me a lot of confidence writing comedy. Through them, I made long lasting friends like Brad, Missie, Sean, and countless other funny and witty people. Later, I made friends with some of the great people that make up Team Chicken Salad (Gorm, Dave, Travis, Complex) and The Mad Women of Schlock (Marnie, Missie, and Lori).

The FanTek BBS gave me friends like Rogue, Tocstan Brighteye (now BJ), and Irv Koch. Then it also introduced me to Suzi, who illustrated my book, and then got me my first technical job, which got me rich through Internet stock, and I sold it before the bubble burst, and now I have a nice house. I ended up with a computer career because of Suzi, and now I work at a place I love, gives me challenges, and teaches me new things.

Through the FanTek art show, I met Mark Mandolia, who led me to Katsucon, which introduced me to great people like Keith and Pocky, which gave me contacts to work at Worldcon (BucConeer), introduced me properly to anime, and eventually back to Balticon after my 10 year hiatus from them. Because of this, I am now part of BWSMOF.

These are just some of the examples. How can I thank Bruce and Cheryl? How could I possibly express the positive impact they have had on me? I can't. I'm a writer, and I can't express how much of a foundation FanTek has set for me because it's so interwoven and complex that as I write this, part of me goes, "Remember this? And how that made you do that?" It would take days. Weeks. Years. If I have even half the impact FanTek has had on me on anyone as long as I live, it would still be a monumentous task. How can I give all this back? Wicca has this threefold law, and I will be spending my life trying to life up to this. Part of me listens to those voices that someday *I* should try and form such a group and have conventions, but I doubt I have the energy, courage, patience, and resilience that those two had. I don't even think I am mature enough to put up with hotels yet. I don't know how con chairs do it.

"EveCon: The first and friendliest convention of the year," was their logo at one time. It's true. Not just the first part, but the friendly part. And now those friends will be scattered apart. Sure, I'll see some of them at other cons, and some will be friends for life no matter WHAT happens, but a few will drift away. Some will be part of the huge and growing, "What ever happened to?" part of my mind. I have a thousand memories of late night talks with fascinating people. I don't get that with anime cons much, mostly because of their size. I still have Balticon, but cons are far and fewer between these days. This worries me, because I will become more isolated as my social lines dry up and move away. But maybe that just happens with age.

I will still be at a few FanTek events here and there, and I am thinking of future endeavors I will take upon when my writing career tries to spread its leathery wings in 2004. The future holds interesting things, but I can only owe most of where I go to where I've been.

Thank you, Bruce and Cheryl. You have truly made me a better person.

Posted by Punkie @ 04:01 PM EST [Link]

Wednesday, December 3, 2003

Down in Baltimore... deep in wires...

Yesterday, I was down in Baltimore... and I mean down. Under a floor.

I was under the assumption that I would be doing some wiring and basic network setup, but what I wasn't prepared for was heavy lifting and dealing with some of the most antique hardware I had ever seen still running that wasn't in a museum. There were snap-lock token ring data connectors, X.25 lines, and a lot of homemade wiring. Some of the equipment was ten years old, and still somehow running. Now I knew why they had to upgrade. I also had to work mostly alone, and while I did get some logistic help, most of the grunt work was mine alone. To say I am sore is an understatement.

The floor lifted up, which is odd for a normal office, but I could see why. This building was old. "Established MDCCCLXI" it said on the front of the ancient frontispiece, which is like 1861. The "new floor" was suspended over the "old floor" which used to be the floor of an accounting office. The wires that snaked though there were both ancient and numerous. Most of it was simply cut off from any source when new occupants moved in. Most of it was power conduit, old cloth-covered copper phone wires, and some wires I don't even know WHAT they were. I was half afraid I'd be electrocuted working under there. "Under there" was only about 6 inches deep, but some of the floor panels were held on by bolts of screws that had long since been rounded off or stripped. I had to do a lot of blind feeding, and pray I didn't get bit by vermin (I saw evidence of at least a few mice), shocked by an exposed live power cable, stabbed by sharp exposed things, or have my fingers crushed by the 40 pound floor plates.

After I had measured the LAN cable, I added like 10-20 feet so I'd have some breathing room... and I still came up short! Part of it was obstacles I didn't see under the floor until I actually opened it, and part of it was just a mystery, but the owner said, "Oh, that always happens." Because of this, I have to go back later and extend all the wiring using another hub.

I also found out that I wasn't supposed to let anyone know I was doing this because "if the union found out..." Apparently, the owner told me, when he tried to do some work under the floor, the union workers in the area got mad, and he didn't want to have to deal with them again if he could avoid it. I was supposed to have help, but one guy couldn't so anything until the DSL was installed (and until later in the day, we thought it wasn't, but AT&T said it was "up and testing clean," but was unable to tell us WHERE they installed it...), another person has to set up the computers (on top of her normal job), and they owner just came from the hospital, so he wasn't able to help more than show me where things go and offer me tools and friendly advice. At least he was really nice and understanding, which did go a long way.

Also, on top of all this, my watch broke as it got caught in something. Me without a watch is like losing an eye: I have no internal clock, so I become disoriented, and have no concept of how much time has passed. So now I have to get a new watch.

Posted by Punkie @ 12:20 PM EST [Link]

Monday, December 1, 2003

Weekend of Complements

This weekend brought two complements from people I respect. One said that I am probably responsible for her to take up writing again, and another asked for my opinion (more of a reassurance) on a very heavy matter, and said I had helped her for many years (when I was always under the impression I was just goofing off). The second I have been requested not to talk about it on my blog until later this month, but those on the FanTek list already may have an idea what it's about.

Because it was the Thanksgiving weekend, I sort of let slide my new way of eating, but only just a bit. It was also kind of an experiment, and I found out this morning I neither gained or lost weight, but I have this "feeling" that this would have been a "gain weight" period in my previous fluctuations. I am not that concerned about my weight as I should be, but it's kind of a nice perk to know I have a sense of self-control over this issue. For instance, I used to just gobble food. This was a bad habit I got from retail, where a "lunch break" just meant "I will be in one spot for a while with food." You just learn to pack food down as quickly as possible to get back to work. Now I eat a little, wait a little. I eat a lot less this way, and don't have as many stomach ailments. I also was "tempted" with a food I like, but I am allergic to: pizza. Actually, it's not the pizza itself, but a lot of what goes in it. I suspect it's a combo of grease and poor quality meat, and a few years ago, I found pizza and I had this dangerous love-hate relationship when I loved to eat it, and hated how I felt (physically, not mentally) afterwards. I really wanted it something bad, but abstained from it, even though it meant I had to leave the room. It made the people who DID eat it sick, and if they got sick, I would have surely been very ill indeed. I was also tempted with donuts, and I spent 4 days dreaming of eating them, so I finally just got a dozen, split them with my family, and ate 6. I also ate a large chocolate bar because I was severely depressed due to a series of bad dreams that culminated in one HUGE one Saturday night. This was, by far, the most traumatic dream I have had in a long time, and that includes the bad dreams I was getting while under a different migraine medication (they changed the meds, the dreams stopped). I can't even speak of it, but it's apparent I have a lot to work about my past.

On Sunday, we got a family photo done! We haven't had one done in ... gosh, 8 years. I have one in my wallet from when CR was 5. Christine has always been resistant to have a group photo done, but this time our local Petco was having a "Take Holiday Photos with Your Pets" special for $35 + $5 sitting fee. So we have a new family photo of ourselves with our two dogs, which some of you will get with our Christmas cards this year. We also got cute pictures of Ahfu and Widget by themselves. They have been scanned, but they came out real dark for some reason. Once I touch them up, I'll put them here, too. They are so cute!

Christine beat me to the punch, and made a website of my birthday party.

Posted by Punkie @ 10:12 AM EST [Link]