Women like Avis?

They just try harder - I don’t imagine they’re out there with the same requests.

I came across this during my lurid wanderings and found it quite funny. If your prudish be forewarned and don’t click through but, the whole thing is humorous if you don’t take these kinds of things too seriously.

Via MissFuzzyBunny.

Dear Men of Craig’s List:

The membership of the National Federated Union of Porn Stars wishes to register an official complaint and related Cease and Desist request. Your incessant searching for a “girl who f***s like a porn star,” the somewhat similar “girl who s***s d**k like a porn star,” and the unending fake posts regaling how “she took my s*****g c** all over her face like a porn star” are interfering with the conduct of business in the legitimate porn industry. A recent study conclude that the prevalence of these requests and reports have in fact begun to convince a startling proportion of otherwise normal women that they should and must behave like porn stars. This is still a trend in its infancy but gentleman, should this phenomenon reach critical mass we, the real porn stars of America, will be shit out of luck, not to mention jobs.

Because you need to know:

Courtesy of the Monster blog...

Here are 10 “excuses” — five smart and five not-so-smart — to help you save face and your sanity.

Are we having fun yet?

More on Iraq.

Human Rights Watch has released a report based on conversations with three former members of the Army's 82nd Airborne Division that says they routinely beat and abused Iraqi detainees in Fallujah in 2003 and 2004.

I walk alone.



The Empire State is an innocuous presence in the middle of Manhattan. It’s the city’s tallest building and I pass it all the time but hardly give it a second thought.

I love the way it looks, it’s not that I don’t think it’s a beautiful building because it is, I just seem to take it for granted. It’s this thing which has always been there and I can’t think of life without it. I haven’t been up to the top in a long, long time. Not that I haven’t wanted to go but, when I have been in the building the line looks so incredibly long, I don’t see the use in waiting on, I keep thinking I’ll go the one day or time when the rest of the world is asleep or off doing other things and I’ll be able to really enjoy the experience.

Many years ago, a friend used the observation deck as the place to propose to his wife - it struck me as so very romantic and I’m sure there are a lot of stories similar to that one.

It just reminded me of the World Trade Center in a way and how everytime I’m outside of Manhattan looking at the skyline, it seems so unbalanced now. Whether I’m out in the Meadowlands, driving along the BQE, coming down from the Bronx, or just riding the Hudson line there is this big gaping absence, it’s like looking at one of those cartoons where your supposed to compare the differences between two pictures that look the same. In this instance, the image is the one I grew up with, the mental picture that is jarred when I look at the skyline now.

Anyway, I do find myself looking up at the ESB when I’m walking up Fifth Avenue sometimes and looking up seeing the telltale flashes of photo takers on the observation deck thinking how I have to get up there one of these days soon.

Double standard?

[I]f America holds something as the moral standard, it should be unacceptable for us as a people to change that moral standard based on fear. The measure of a person or a people’s character is not what they do when everything is comfortable. It’s what they do in an extremely trying and difficult situation, and if we want to claim that these are our ideals and our values then we need to hold to them no matter how dark the situation.

Testimony by US Army officers on torture in Iraq, the Human Rights Watch report.

More voices:

It’s interesting to hold an opposite position from nearly everyone you know. Especially about something politically divisive. Everyone assumes you think like they do, lots of offensive stuff gets emailed and linked, people nudge you about things and expect something other than a blank stare.

This is a snippet of an entry from Joe Maller’s blog (click through to read in its entirety). I know Joe vaguely in the sense our orbits have intersected occasionally - I worked with his wife. I can’t say I’ve really had an extensive, soul-baring conversation with Joe when we have bumped into each other, but reading his thoughts on his blog, he strikes me as a smart and fair-minded guy. His entry got me thinking about what I had written awhile back, ostensibly the increasing tendency to be dismissive of views not in agreement with our own.

I can’t say I know Joe’s opinions and wouldn’t presume to speak for the him but, his point reminded me of experiences I have had: being in a room full of people when the topic of discussion has turned to the events of the day (and the players), knowing speaking up with an opposing voice wouldn’t be the best thing for the ’ole career or another instance when I got an email from someone which begat to a series of emails ending that friendship.

The email concerned the 2004 election and it struck me out of left field but, the assumption of the person who sent it was, I would agree with the sentiments expressed wholeheartedly. When I didn’t and when I pointed out to the person I didn’t (asking not to receive further emails of this kind), the trouble began and what followed was volleys of emails going back and forth with of increasing intensity. I was tweaking the guy after a point. Truthfully, I knew he felt strongly but, I was disappointed in him, disappointed because he didn’t leave any room to disagree. While I liked him as a person (and he’s a good guy), I also knew to stay friends would mean journeying into the realm of the blank stare regularly. Spending far too much time there already, I can say I wasn’t as interested in increasing my stay so, there went that friendship.

I would have much rather bought him a drink and been able to disagree - which is the way Joe might have handled it. If I see Joe sometime down the road I’ll probably take him up on his invitation to buy him a beer or two because even if I don’t agree with the guy (and in some ways I’m sure I will) - at least he’ll be open minded enough to have a discussion and there aren’t enough people out there these days even willing to do that.

Of course, being a happy drunk helps too.

Tales from the workaday world.

Just some jewels from a variety of sources to reassure you that in fact working these days can truly be maddening:

Garrison, who lives in Highlands Ranch, Colorado, said he never thought he would be rewarded for getting fired. Then again, he never dreamed he would be fired after he ate two of the six pieces of pepperoni pizza left over from a company meeting.

Or this jewel from the Monster blog:

Workplace Mistakes to Avoid. To guard your job security, be sure to avoid the 10 common pitfalls on this checklist from Jennifer Star, a New York City-based corporate recruiter and trainer specializing in administrative-support personnel:

Or another one:

These kinds of firings open a dangerous can of worms for employees, whose once-deemed personal lives may now be subject to their employers’ scrutiny and, ultimately, may be grounds for termination. The one-time proverbial wall between economic church and state is being broken down. Fast.

And finally this jewel which reminded me of the client I had that had two kinds of deodorizer in the men’s bathroom.

Workplace Bathroom Etiquette. People tend to equate the bathroom with privacy. And although you can’t see anyone when you’re behind a closed stall door, that doesn’t mean you’re alone or that people can’t hear you.

Getting back to the deodorizer thingee, I couldn’t quite grasp why there were two different kinds of deodorizer in the bathroom. It implied that each spray would be used for a different purpose - perhaps one was for flatulent individuals and the other for cases of severe defecation?

I was just trying to make sense of the logic behind the decision for a variety. It appeared as if there was some serious thinking going on behind it.

Of course, that’s not to say any men’s restroom I’ve been in has ever been terrific although I do remember the executive loo from years back when I was a guard on a midnight shift and I can honestly say I know from personal experience that those corporate kings do in fact have their very own throne rooms.

Ever feel?

Pretending to be Spidey:



How does he deal with the vertigo, I wonder?

ICU. Telemetry. ICU. Telemetry. ICU...

Three weeks and counting and that’s pretty much how it could all be summed up. We’re in the ICU, no we’re in telemetry. Three weeks and counting since the EYOC took the trip to the hospital.

It’s really amazing. There are times I’m sorry for bringing him to the hospital. Remembering how afraid he was before the journey, how terrified and trapped he felt - go to the hospital or just hope whatever is bothering him just goes away. Man, I tell you, wherever there is an opening on your body, once you’re in the hospital they find a way to put something in it. There are good days and there are bad days but, there are more days which there wouldn’t have been without the trip.

One day I go and EYOC can barely talk or move. He doesn’t seem to even be aware of where he’s at. Then. I get a surprise towards the end of last week when my sister calls and tells me EYOC will be discharged in the coming week!?!? Since I had been the day before, I was somewhat dumbstruck by the announcement. How can you release someone so very seriously ill? The next day I go down and EYOC looks better than he has in weeks. He’s awake. He appears to have his wits about him. He moves (albeit very slowly). The difference in his condition from my previous visit only 48 hours before is remarkable! I can hardly believe it, it’s as if a higher power has come down and breathed life back into his lungs again.

Afterward, I sit in the cafeteria with my sister, amazed and relieved at the change in his condition. Just glad to see him regaining some of his strength and beginning the progression back to normalcy.

Then the next day I get the phone call from the cardiologist that the EYOC has been shuttled back to the ICU after an unexplainable drop in both blood pressure and blood sugar - I imagine next week’s release date was a little too optimistic. So, I just keep puttering away. It’s this strange limbo not knowing what will happen and not being able to plan because it really depends on someone’s health. EYOC will be 82 next week and I can’t imagine he’ll be happy celebrating in the hospital. Ah, if only they’d let me bring the kitty for a visit.

Time to move?

Via BlogSensei (link at right).

Your personality type is RCUAI
You are moderately reserved, moderately calm, unstructured, moderately accommodating, and intellectual, and may prefer a city which matches those traits.

The largest representation of your personality type can be found in the these U.S. cities: Washington DC, Oklahoma City, Raleigh/Durham, Louisville, New Orleans, Greensboro, Austin, Albuquerque/Santa Fe, Sacramento, Salt Lake City, Denver and these international countries/regions Luxembourg, Iceland, Hungary, Kazakhstan, Slovenia, Netherlands, Greece, Puerto Rico, Denmark, Belgium, Croatia, Germany, Turkey, Sweden, Ireland

What Places In The World Match Your Personality?

City Reviews at CityCulture.org

Kitty Friday.

I’m tempted to post the Adventures of Shauna which Brian has been emailing me of late. I’m a sucker for kitties. Until I get the permission to post it though, a picture of the furry beast will have to suffice:

The good ole days?

On the heels of the debacle that was Katrina, the latest headline to make me cringe had to be the one referring to the dialog between Bill Bennett and a caller on his radio show the other day. Bennett’s comment had been taken largely out of context but, that didn’t make it better. It’s the kind of statement that bought us the fun guys in the Nazi party of post WW1 Germany or maybe even that gregarious bunch that swears allegiance to the Grand Dragon.

The scary thing is, this is a former Secretary of Education speaking - like, you’d think this would be a smart person? If there is one small part of you that can even attempt to justify his statement, I suggest you swap out the word black in his comments and replace it with the name of your very own religious or ethnic group and see how well it sits.

Surprisingly enough, Bennett and his caller were citing Freakonomics, a book that is doing quite well recently. I haven’t read Freakonomics, so I can’t speak to the accuracy of their comments. I did however, read a snippet of the book as posted on Amazon which drew a correlation between the abortion rate and the decreasing crime rate. It’s a great thing when you can mask your own bs theories behind some kind of pseudo science. Not only that, it’s better still to get rich off of it.

I don’t know if I will actually plunk down money to buy Freakonomics but, I certainly want to read it. If only to see if there is any mention of our country’s increasing prison population as well as the declining US birth rate. Much as they may want to lay the decreasing crime rate at the door of Roe V Wade, I would like to think the issue is a bit more complicated than they would have you believe.

In the meantime, I have to say again one of the benefits of living in a free and open society is people have the ability to publicly put their foot in their mouth - I’m not agreeing with what their saying but they do have a right to say it.

Spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam

So, it would appear having been foiled by email filters - some idiots have taken it upon themselves to generate spam by posting comments on the blog.

In a word: ggggrrrreeeeeeaaaaatttttt.

Way to go dicks!

I am binary and I must change.

The world is such a simple place, as simple as we make it that is.

Once we are able to apply a label to a person, place or thing - we have the ability to compartmentalize how we will approach the person, place or thing evermore.

Case in point, how many buzzwords can I throw out there for you in the next paragraph and how quickly or rather how crisp are the images these words bring to mind: liberal, conservative, fundamentalist, minority, republican, democrat, christian, muslim, terrorist, freedom fighter, peace keeper, working class, protester, pundit, administration - see, even as I was writing those words, it seemed that each and every one bought a very clear image into my minds’ eye.

And... that’s a problem.

Because, it’s been my experience the world we live in is nowhere near as simple as black or white, wherein every issue can be divided into two clear areas of (dis) agreement. Here’s the rub though, I find I have a natural tendency as I get older to gravitate towards the ease of breaking down each and every ideological dilemma I run across into a very clear and distinct binary mode of thinking: black or white, good or bad, right or wrong. It’s never as simple as that though and I have to take a step back and remind myself of the very fact all the time.

The reason I broach the subject is I find an increasing amount of rhetoric broken down into these terms. It’s bad math. It‘s the math of a static society and I think it is a very important thing for all of us in this country to be aware of it and to try and resist its pull. The point I’m trying to get at is in a democracy, it’s healthy to disagree. Plurality is supposed to be one of the strengths of democracies and I believe we are well along the way to forgetting that.

So, I am going to try and make a promise and stick to it. The next time I am ready to apply a label to someone, ready to paste one of those buzzwords prominently across them and their argument, I will take a step back and try to look at the issue from their point of view. I know I will more than likely screw up a majority of the time but, I won’t ever change unless I make the attempt. My small effort probably won’t have the grand sweeping effect I would like but, I figure you’ve got to start somewhere and maybe if you’re reading this you’ll be willing to give it a shot too.

Zoom.

More photo fun.

Birds view of downtown Manhattan:

Wow.

In just under 20 minutes it will be my b-day. After the events of the last few weeks, there won’t be much partying - just a quiet day spent recharging the batteries.

More free stuff.

There’s a dog and pony show coming to NYC and select other cities to trumpet the benefits of Acrobat 7.0. Since it’s a freebie, one where they give out free copies of the program and a justifiable way to get out of half a day of work, it’s always worth registering for these things (employers love training that doesn’t cost them anything).

You can register for the thing here.

FCB.

Life as a cat is a hard road to travel, you get up early to get your human up to feed you and all the effort trying to elicit a decent meal is tiring so, you really need to find just the right spot for the mid-morning nap.

Exhaustion.

I find myself just way too tired to even be concerned about writing anything at the moment. Aside from a few longer, partially completed entries over the last few days, I find myself so caught up in the maelstrom it is hard to focus on anything else. Today was a bit of a wash as I had been feeling like I was coming down with something for several days and finally I found it necessary just to have a day to sleep.

So in lieu of any words of wisdom, I think I’ll just post a picture or two I’ve been taking recently:

The week that was.

In a few hours it will be a full week since this drama began. This has been like the storm that was forecast, something which was inevitable, something I knew would be coming, something I was even in the process of preparing for but, like any storm, when it hits you don’t know how intense the fury of the storm will be.

So, there is good and bad in the whole situation. One thing is assured and that is things will change, of that I have no doubt. The question now is how rapidly that change will occur and how well I will weather this storm. In regard to the EYOC, there is very little I can do at this point, he’s seen to that. In a certain bit or irony the person who respected his wishes the most is the one who now can do little to affect the outcome of the situation.

I know I’ll be moving - I just don’t know how soon and where I’m going to wind up.

The other day I was having a discussion with the EYOC and telling him he had to get better so he could “rake the leaves” around the house, no more lying around for him. On the surface, it probably sounds incredibly cruel. The truth of course is he hasn’t lifted a finger around here in a long time but, even though that’s the case what do you say to someone? Do you tell them the time they have is running out?

It’s been my experience from what I have observed that the longer someone has a routine of their own, the longer they are able to do the things they want and live life without being directed what to do, the better off they are. I watched as my Ex’s grandmother, a frail tiny women of her early 80’s, slowly succumbed to the ravages of age. Funny thing is, the woman had been so busy all the years prior to when the deterioration suddenly happened. She took care of her aging and very ill husband, cared for a younger but direly afflicted neighbor suffering from Arthritis and just performed these almost superhuman feats you couldn’t imagine a person of her stature being capable of.

After the people she was caring for passed, her remaining family wanted to leave her ensconced in her apartment with nothing to do but stare at the walls as the time ticked past. She no longer had things in her life to challenge her and in that vacuum, that boredom and ennui she finally allowed herself to succumb. Why not? She no longer had duties to distract her from herself, no longer had things to keep her mind and body occupied. I imagine the days slowed down for her insufferably
and with nothing else to focus on she just let go.

When people no longer are interested in life - it’s not a good thing. Something all of us should take note of.

There’s a reason the Mets play in Flushing.

When nobody was looking, the Mets just went and flushed their season down the crapper.

I’m not happy about it but, I can’t say I’m really too upset either. Thing is, at the beginning of the season the best thing Mets fans were hoping for was not to be in last place (which the Mets are currently occupants of in their division). So, one might ask, “How can you not be upset if they’re in last place?”

Well, coming into the season, David Wright though promising was still an unproven commodity. Jose Reyes had yet to play a full injury free season and a couple of Mets were coming off bad seasons (as evidenced by the Mets trying to trade them in the off-season, Cliff Floyd comes immediately to mind).

Now as we close on the end of the ’05 season, we find the left side of the infield is young and is only going to improve with time and experience, there’s starting pitching to meet the needs of next season. It all boils down to there being just a couple of holes that need filling. Waiting to see if Mike Jacobs is the answer at first is one question. Figuring out what life after Mike Piazza will look like is a second. Finding a more solid closer than Brandon Looper is the third thing.

It’s not much, certainly not as bad as it has seemed in seasons past. So, it’ll just be a matter of the old Dodgers lament of wait until next year!

Excitement.

I don’t imagine anyone finds these little personal dramas entertaining. I just started the blog to get into the habit of writing for the most part. The blog is my stretching and warm ups before attempting the marathon of a longer project. The longer entries are the tough ones, I get into a groove and then somewhere along the way I get distracted or the train of thought gets derailed and an idea dies on the vine (been a bunch of those half composed entries sitting in the draft que).

But, before I get side tracked once again, the thought for today was about excitement.

I’ve heard quite a few people bemoan a lack of excitement in their lives through the years. It seems to be a common enough complaint, “Life just isn’t exciting anymore!” or the old saw “Boy! Could I use some excitement!”

Funny thing is, I find as I rack up days in my time on the planet, I’ve come to the conclusion I could do without “excitement.”

Yep, that’s me, pining away for mundanacity. Sure, when I was a younger man, I craved excitement! with the best of them. However, it dawned on me after enough of that excitement, usually the whole excitement thing wasn’t associated with good things. The excitement thing wasn’t working for me if you catch my drift.

See, excitement is all fine and good if that’s your thing but, it seems to me that along with it come big emotional highs... and lows. Great when it’s a positive thing to be sure but, those lows. Boy! They sure have a way of taking their toll on a person. I’m getting enough gray hair at this point not to really be up for getting more and gray hair is one of those add ons to the excitement thing.

Kind of reminds me of the phrase, “May you live in exciting (sic-interesting) times.” Which has an interesting and unique story all its own.

No more coffee for you!

Via Pen-Elanye.



U.S. President George W. Bush writes a note to Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice during a Security Council meeting at the 2005 World Summit and 60th General Assembly of the United Nations in New York September 14, 2005. World leaders are exploring ways to revitalize the United Nations at a summit on Wednesday but their blueprint falls short of Secretary-General Kofi Annan's vision of freedom from want, persecution and war.

A lot more things make sense now. If nature’s call is something that Pres Junior isn’t sure about, he can hardly be called on the carpet to be decisive about hurricanes or wars.

Waiting for a spot on a helicopter.



No other way to put it.

Ambulance driver.

Over the last few months, I’ve been laying low. There was a bit of a dual purpose in this. On the one hand, things were just out of control, struggling along and trying to do everything wasn’t working. There is just a lot of maintenance and upkeep to do around here and I can’t boast of having an unending source of energy. Just picking up after someone else all the time isn’t an easy thing, especially when they try their level best to be as uncooperative as possible. Care and feeding of the EYOC is not an easy thing on its best day. Just stay out of the way and try to keep the messes to a minimum. As much trouble as a teenager can be, an aging parent is infinitely worse - they don’t quite take to being told what to do. Example: Yes, flushing the toilet each and every time after you use it isn’t a waste of water and cuts down on the overwhelming urine smell throughout the house - this is a good thing and shouldn’t start a fight but it does.

So many little idiosyncrasies, all the anger of and regret of life comes out each and every day and being the person around just means being the easiest target for it all.

Friday, was the end of a long, long week. Finally at a point where work was absolutely necessary (if only from a financial standpoint), I was glad to be working again even if I felt discomfort at not being around during the day. One thing I had been trying to find was night work if only because leaving EYOC alone while he was asleep just meant it he would be less likely to get himself into trouble - you’d think a he’d be able to do that but, it seems to grow only more difficult for him to avoid trouble.

So, after finally working through the long week, when I got to Friday I was absolutely exhausted - several days of getting up at 6:00 and getting home at 10:00 will do that to you. Especially when you’re trying to fit in all your maintenace duties around it - I swear I have much , much more respect for what some people do than ever before.

Of course, knowing that the week was winding, you had to know all hell would break loose.

Early Saturday morning after finally passing out, while in the midst of a deep sleep, I awoke to the cries of EYOC in terror. You have to understand, I’ve gotten used to the ‘night terrors,’ the moaning and wailing that occurs nightly while the EYOC is deep in dreamland. I had been worried at first but, after asking him if he was in any pain at night and then finding out he had not recollection of the incidents at all, I came to realize all that anger was just working itself out another way.

No, Saturday morning was different. I ran to the front, only to find EYOC sitting atop the top step, terrified and laboring away to catch a breath. It was the yelling that had me immediately worried - that moment when someone who walks around most of the day barely concealing their contempt actually cries out for help - it must be bad.

First thought is to get prepared in the best fireman’s fashion for the wee hour run to the hospital. Though I am many things, medical practitioner is not numbered among them and truthfully I can’t just wave my hands and do the whole healing thing. Unfortunately, once again you run into a situation where it’s a battle. A kid you would just bundle into the car and take, they wouldn’t fight you on it. Aging parent though is another story - there’s all kinds of terror involved in going to the hospital. It’s understandable though, hospitals are a lot like roach motels to the elderly, people go in but they don’t come out.

So, rather than fight and honestly hoping it was just some respiratory thing - I tried to calm him down and get him to rest since he was in such an agitated state. After finally getting back to sleep (not an easy thing mind you), I awoke in the morning to the smell of the EYOC making his daily breakfast. The assumption being that since he was back on his schedule, all was right in the world of the EYOC. Rousing myself and giving him adequate time to clear out of the kitchen (can’t get in his way don’t you know), I made myself coffee and tried to clear the cobwebs from my brain. After having sufficiently ingesting enough caffeine to be somewhat alert, I went back to check on the EYOC again only to find him seated on his bed, laboring away and gasping for air.

“I can’t catch my breath?! I just can’t get a good breath Munge.”

“Do you want to go to the hospital?”

“NO!”

“Well, what do you want me to do then?”

“You weren’t going anywhere today, right? Just stick around. Stick around for a few hours in case I do have to go to the hospital.”

“Fine.”

I waited about an hour and went back to check on him again but, he was still obviously laboring away.

“Look, you’re going!”

“No, I can’t go. If I go, that’s it!”

“C’mon, get your clothes on, we have to go.”

After much fussing and finally getting him dressed - it was off to the hospital. Trying to tease him a bit on the way to take his mind of things wasn’t working. He was scared (and I can’t say I would blame him either). Of course also during the ride I was trying to pry as much info out of him as possible to relate to the doctors after we got to the hospital. All too often, the story you get is different from the one that winds up being told to the doctors and it’s necessary to do a bit of translation. It is during the ride, I come to find out he had a very severe and acute pain in the upper left quandrant of his chest which spread down his arm. Oh, and this happened a few days ago but, he can’t remember the specific day.

Mmm, great, classic heart attack symptoms that he just somehow didn’t share, very much par for the course.

We arrive at the hospital, I pull up and have him wait in the car as I avail myself of a wheelchair, go out, collect him and wheel him into the middle of the emergency room (yes, I just bypass reception using the ambulance entrance). The people behind the office desk in emergency are somewhat agape as I wheel this elderly man into their midst and I nod at them saying, “Can you take a look at him?” an underlying sense of urgency in my voice.

The next time I see him it is about an hour and a half or so later. There is a respirator down his throat and mutiple tubes issue forth from his arms in numerous places. Above him I can very clearly read a computer screen which is all too easy to decipher as I can pick out his blood pressure is an alarming 60 over 40.

I ask if he has been sedated, seeing the respirator in his throat and knowing this is the one thing he has feared above everything else clearly remembering the agony his brother endured during a fatal fight with cancer. I am assured he is sedated enough to only vaguely remember this as a dream (which actually will later prove to be true). I stand near him as there is a flurry of activity around me all centered on him. The room is very small. I myself have been in this emergency room in the past, it does not bring back fond memories but, they are not especially bad memories either.

A cardiologist begins a conversation about EYOC’s condition at his bedside as I try to move backward in an effort to get doctor to follow me into the hall and out of potential earshot. I am quoted very dire mortality statistics for patients in this age range and with similar maladies. This is confirmed by two other doctors in attendance, they stare gravely at the monitor displaying lifesigns and they... are... not... smiling.

Time passes and he is stablized and moved to the ICU. During the ride he is off the sedative and I am holding his hand and gently stroking his forehead. It is so very odd, more often than not I am being yelled at, cursed or derided by the frail figure before me. I have weathered all his anger and I am standing beside him trying to keep him from being afraid. I find myself consumed by emotion, the only chance I have to comfortably show it is during a short time when I am alone in the ER with him and one of the orderlies has respectfully pulled the curtains so I can have a bit of privacy to sob.

I can honestly say it was one of the longest and most stressful days in recent memory. Of course, it wasn’t complete until I had to deal with the second guessing of the missing-in-action sibling. Got to love those who don’t do the work but want all the credit. There never seems to be a shortage of people like that. Fortunately, on the flip side, there are other family members who never cease to amaze with their support - and they were there when I needed them. So, I’m lucky nonetheless.

After the Flood.

I’ve got a bunch of entries in various stages of completion but, due to the events of the last few days, I haven’t been able to complete them.

However, I thought I would pass along this link. While you may have od’d on the Katrina disaster, I ask you take the time out to listen to this week’s This American Life: After The Flood.

Bearing in mind that these are Americans; our neighbors, relatives and peers, is there any way we should not hold our government responsible for what happened? I think after listening to the stories of people who actually lived through the disaster and keeping in mind something like this has the potential to happen in any American city (maybe even to you!), do you really want to let the current administration slide on this? Should we even contemplate the chance of this happening again.

Tired.

I never realized how tired I was until last night. Finally sitting down, having dinner and feeling the exhaustion wash over me like a wave. The scary thing is this is only the beginning and there is so much to do (and I had a full plate before this). I feel like I could sleep away the next few days but, there's much, too much to do and precious little time to get everything done.

Waiting room.



Life is full of experiences that resonate with us. Sounds, smells or places that harken back to other events in our lives. Some are happy, some are sad but, they all cue up memories in us. Memories which invariably force us into drawing comparisons of the “today” to the “then.”

Over the last few days, I have had the chance to renew my acquaintance with my old nemesis the ‘hospital waiting room.’ Waiting rooms all have a vaguely similar feel. There’s furniture just this side of comfortable (not the good side), in muted tints attempting to soften the glare of the fluorescent lighting. It’s furniture that’s seen a lot of use, parked in what would amount to a small office and packed tightly together. In one corner they’ll be a TV customarily turned to something you would never find yourself watching at home and only if you’re among the truly fortunate will you be able to change the channel.

Being in a waiting room is somewhat akin to being on a long elevator ride in the way you will be united with a bunch of strangers briefly as you all move towards a similar destination. Momentarily, you will be a part of another person’s life not through choosing as much as coincidence. It’s often uncomfortable bumping up against each other in these moments of brief shared intimacy, the intimacy of strangers. Yet a lot can be learned about people, if only in the kindness we show each other during these moments.

So, as I struggled to quietly read my paper during the sojourn in the waiting room, anticipating the moment I am summoned back into the recesses of the ICU. I sit, an uncomfortable witness to strangers in a moment of fear over the sickness of a loved one. A moment where people have come together united in their concern and sharing amusing stories of the past. I am thankful as they ready themselves to leave, looking forward to the silence and being able to get my mind off the onerous vigil I am on.

Yet as they file by me, I am surprised by a woman I do not know. As the five or six people make their way out of the room and I keep my nose buried in my paper trying not to intrude on their privacy lacking another place to wait, she places her hand on my shoulder as they file past and just says that everything will be alright. It momentarily takes my unease at being trapped in the limbo of the waiting room away and I am reminded of the small courtesies strangers can afford one and other.

Sunday?

Picture this.

I set up a flickr account and I’ve been enjoying running around taking all sorts of pictures with my new camera. Now all I have to do is get around to setting the thing (the Flickr account) up.

A tradition continued?

In the spirit of Friday cat blogging, a tradition picked up via Pen-Elanye, today we have a dreadful case of kitty possession - time to find the kitty exorcist.

Terminator 4?

Came across this tale on The Walking Vixen blog. It made me think of a song by Annie Lennox titled Sisters Are Doing It For Themselves. The story is somewhat lurid, so don’t click through if you’re offended by that stuff but it just one of those things you have to read to believe.

It was basically a metal suitcase like the kind you see carrying millions of dollars in those gangster movies. Except inside of it was the metal that makes the hump possible, and it had a metal pole sticking out of it.

We now return to our regular programming:

On a more mundane note, I wanted to pass along the link to Russell Brown’s website.

Who is Russell Brown you ask?

As Sr. Creative Director at Adobe Systems Incorporated, Russell Preston Brown holds a unique position in the computer industry. Brown maintains a vital presence in the digital design and publishing community, facilitating the exchange between the user and software developer that is so essential to Adobe's software development. With complete mastery and breath taking style, Brown shows users how to work – and play – with Adobe software. He has given the world's leading photographers, publishers, art directors, and artists a strong grasp of the software tools that, by virtually all accounts, have led to Adobe's applications becoming the standard by which others are measured. Remember, what Russell always says "Learning about Adobe Photoshop should never be boring.”

I spent some time today watching a fascinating tutorial on batch processing of images (what does that say about my life, I wonder?). As with most of the tutorials RB has posted, it’s entertaining, informative and free! Of course, bandwidth is required but, what you spend a few minutes watching could save you hours on the job!

You’ll find the tutorials (tips and techniques) here.

The Blame Game and you.



On more than one occasion President Truman referred to the desk sign in public statements. For example, in an address at the National War College on December 19, 1952 Mr. Truman said, “You know, it’s easy for the Monday morning quarterback to say what the coach should have done, after the game is over. But when the decision is up before you — and on my desk I have a motto which says The Buck Stops Here — the decision has to be made.” In his farewell address to the American people given in January 1953, President Truman referred to this concept very specifically in asserting that, “The President — whoever he is — has to decide. He can’t pass the buck to anybody. No one else can do the deciding for him. That's his job.”

Today, the White House came out swinging trying to do their very best to spin the events of the last week into a more favorable light for themselves. Unfortunately, the displaced masses of New Orleans didn’t cooperate – they’re just not going to go away as easily as the White House would wish:

“I need answers,” said Mildred Brown, who has been at the center since Tuesday with her husband, mother-in-law and cousin. “I’m not interested in hand-shaking. I’m not interested in photo ops.”

Yes, it seems the White House attempt to put the blame squarely at the feet of Louisiana state and city officials isn’t quite working out the way they would like it to. I said it the day after the storm hit when President Junior was out on the west coast giving another speech designed to make our country safe from terrorists. Do you think the mysterious terrorists watch this stuff? Somehow, I doubt it.

Very prominently on the news tonight the President urged the nation ‘not to play the blame game.’ I can’t say he’s doing something no one else has done - when was the last time someone, a co-worker or someone you know, actually ’fessed up to being wrong? It just is rarely done on our society these days. People accepting responsibility for screwing up is a thing of the past. We live in a world where we are all of us surrounded by beings of god-like perfection (hey, I’m not going to give myself a pass on this one either folks).

It’s tough to admit you’re wrong. It’s tough but, it’s also necessary if you want to grow.

Honestly, I would have been very surprised if the president had just come out and boldly said, “Yes, we knew a hurricane was coming. Yes, we saw that it was a category five but, never in our wildest imaginings did we believe it would be this bad. It was poor planning on the part of the federal government. An event of this scope is something which should have been handled immediately at the federal level and we screwed up royally on it.”

The days of Harry Truman and The Buck Stops Here are gone folks.

No weapons of mass destruction and now this. Hmmm, isn’t the office of the president also known by the name of Chief Executive? So, before we go off and spend millions needlessly trying to look for a scapegoat(s), why not take all that money, put it to better use helping the people affected by Katrina and just go right to the top?

I’m not blaming the mayor, the governor, the firefighters, the police, the national guardsmen, the army, the coast guard, the red cross or any of those other folks who have made it their business to get about helping these people - I’m blaming the guy who was on vacation when the storm hit and decided to take a trip out to California the day after the storm had passed. He’s the one who ultimately had the power to do something (as noted by all the things that rapidly happened after he sat up and took notice). It’s not a game, people suffered and people died because of a terrible lapse of judgement on his part and if the American people want to give the guy a pass on it, they deserve what they get.

Speak your mind.

Erik Larsen pencilled a bunch of books and was one of those guys who jumped ship from Marvel to create Image comics. Today, he’s the publisher at Image and while I can’t say I’ve found myself seeking out Image branded material more than before, somehow Larsen has found the time to write a column up at Comic Book Resources as well. His One Fan’s Opinion is rapidly turning into a favorite.

Steve Oliff showed everybody about the possibility of color and his legion of imitators over-colored the crap out of so many thousands of pages.

It's staggering.

I tell colorists now to back off. Well-chosen flat color is infinitely preferable to poorly chosen rendered color. Let me see the art. Let me see who inked that. Let me see the effect the artists had intended.

I love comics.

A Sunday repast.

Aristotle (384-322 BC) argues that a stable democracy requires a large middle class to minimize political antagonism between rich and poor. Leaders should be elected "by all, from all" limited to brief terms in office. There should be no life offices; and no office should be held twice by the same person. Aristotle argues for a strict one-person-one-vote system for all adults; voting rights should not be limited to property owners, lest the nation lapse into oligarchy as wealth becomes concentrated in the hands of a few.

So we are all of us in the midst of a holiday weekend - except those of us stricken by such a great calamity as that which has befallen our fellow citizens along the Gulf Coast and those who are in the process of trying to ease their suffering.

Now is a time when we see what the measure of Americans as a people are, as the call goes out for aid across the nation and across the globe. Over the coming weeks and months we can be certain the news will get worse. While there will undoubtedly be bright spots amidst the gloom, the number of lives lost due to this event shall be staggering when tallied up. It will make the losses we suffered in 2001 pale in comparison, even though those losses be no less dear to our hearts.

In the aftermath, as we try to help our fellow citizens rebuild their lives, we will have to begin the long hard task of asking ourselves where we were remiss. It is not enough to merely assess the damage and rebuild. We must take this opportunity as a nation and look at where we are headed and where we want to go.

We are only as rich as our poorest neighbor, as healthy as our sickest friend and as strong as our weakest companion. If we are to export a system and society which we would hold forth to be the model for the rest of the world, we had better be sure it is a good model. One in which all people are insured of freedom but also opportunity, for education, for health, for security. Those integral elements assured to all Americans by the documents set forth by the founding fathers of this nation.

It is in these areas where we must hold our leaders accountable. Our strength as a nation in the past has come from the ability to override the differences among us and to work for the common good of all. If we cannot move beyond the devisive rhetoric of party ideology, we shall suffer an ignominious fate and watch as our nation fades from the world stage to become some second rate power basking in the glory of its past accomplishments.

The faces that stare out from our TV screens, speak volumes to us of another America. An America where poverty is common. These faces tell us, for all the success our leaders would have us believe we have enjoyed as a nation, there are far too many who are being left behind. Far too many for whom the basic human necessities of life are a luxury. While we hear talk daily of a War on Terror will somehow make our society safe, we must ask ourselves safe from what?

Will it be a nation safe from suffering, poverty, hunger, ignorance and disease? If we find we cannot make our fellow citizens safe from these things can we honestly tell ourselves there is any other war worth winning?

Spoiled.

I encountered a strange event the other day. After going into clients and being “behind the curve” so to speak, I had gotten used to finding myself using newer software only at cleints - imagine my surprise to realize I finally am using a more current operating system than one of my clients! How radical.

Hurricane Sluggo.

I’m going to avoid editorializing - as per my earlier promise. Besides, I think it is readily apparent to most people by now something was drastically wrong with the federal response to the tragedy on the Gulf Coast.

I will however pass along these links which I came upon via roundabout way (via Blog Sensei of course).

First, Mr. Bill explains it all, about levees and the Louisiana wetlands.

Second is an interview with the mayor of New Orleans - it’s really worth a listen to if you think that the federal response has been spot on.

...and being true to my word:

I give you this wonderful Get Fuzzy cartoon to contemplate (as given the situation I find it works on so many levels). At least I find myself still able to laugh at Bucky Katt:



click through for the Get Fuzzy archives.

Flipping channels.

So, Wednesday I had to take a drive out to Ikea and at one point I'm flipping between stations - commercial on the FAN and NPR in some uninteresting segment. I happen upon Rush Limbaugh who I haven’t listened to in quite some time. The bloated, drug abusing, windbag is droning on how “This country is in trouble because of the liberals! We don’t have gasoline because the liberals won’t allow oil refineries to be built! Liberals force our country to enact all these nasty pollution standards so poor oil companies are required to make 47 different types of gasoline. Even when they are able to get into New Orleans, it’s the liberals who will stand in the way of progress. The liberals won’t let us rebuild in New Orleans anyway because the ground will be so toxic! Those damn liberals want to blame global warming...” and on and on and on.

This has the effect of making me want to put my foot through the radio (not an easy thing to do when you’re tooling along trying to keep up with everyone else going 75mph).

As I have voiced previously (and truthfully, saying it makes me feel as if I’m standing up in some twelve step meeting), I am a Republican. Yes, I would consider myself both Republican and Conservative but, I’m not seeing fetuses in satellite photos of a hurricane or thinking somehow that God has rained down his wrath in some form of divine payback (and I’ve actually seen things recently where people have the gall to suggest just such a thing). I just can’t find the gigantic reservoir of ego it takes to think somehow I may be able to keen a divine hand in a natural disaster.

I’m going to put a moratorium on the whole NOLA thing as it will be everywhere now and relief is finally just trickling in to the people. Also, I think there comes a point where being the angry old fart doesn’t do much good but, I will make one last comment about this situation to provoke some thought hopefully.

If they wanted to impeach a guy over a blowjob, what should they do to someone who was on vacation when his country needed him? If the mayor of New Orleans was smart enough to tell the people of the city they needed to evacuate on Saturday, two full days before the storm hit and the governor was doing the same, advising residents on the southern part of the state to evacuate as well, why did it take the president two full days to formulate a response to the emergency? It was an unprecedented storm which everyone KNEW was coming! It wasn’t a secret, how could the federal government have dropped the ball so badly.

It’s coming up on Friday and they’re just beginning to get help to the people. What? Does your state have to be governed by the president’s brother for the president to do his job?

Talk about foreshadowing!

I was looking for a map or graphic of New Orleans when I happened across this page which is a scan of a New York Times article. The article is dated April 30th, 2002 and it’s from the Science Times. The title is, “Nothing’s Easy for New Orleans Flood Control.” Reading through the article, I’ll be damned if there weren’t people who called it right on the nose. Take a look:

The first page is here.

The second page is here.

It runs in the family.

“Where in the hell is the cavalry on this one? For God's sake, where are they?''



A massive hurricane sweeps across Florida and makes secondary landfall in Louisiana leaving a multitude of Americans homeless anxiously awaiting response and relief from the federal government.

Katrina?

No, Andrew.

Just as his father did 12 years before, President Bush is flying to Florida to survey the damage wrought by a major hurricane less than three months before facing a hotly contested re-election. Republicans hope the parallels end there.

After Hurricane Andrew left thousands homeless in August 1992, the first President Bush's administration was bitterly criticized for moving too slowly to deliver food, water and troops. Although his campaign vastly outspent Bill Clinton, his support ebbed and Bush was forced to defend what once had been considered home turf, winning by only a small margin.

Guess if this were an election year the people of Louisiana and Mississippi would be faring better.

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick... the clock is running on the Bush presidency. Every passing hour where the federal government is missing in action is another state turning from red to blue. Images coming out from disaster areas in Mississippi and Louisiana of fellow Americans without food, without water, without shelter are eerily reminiscent of the way Bush Sr. dropped the ball after Andrew.

Watching the news this evening, one woman, homeless after the storm and standing atop a highway overpass which has become a dry refuge managed to put it very succinctly when she observed that “after the hurricanes in Florida those people came running! Where are they now?!”

Maybe, I’m being too tough. I mean after all, the president did cut short his vacation in order to personally oversee the relief efforts. He did manage to fly over the flooded metropolis of New Orleans today (two days after it happened). Yes, he’s a true man of the people, he is. When was the last time any of you took a month long paid vacation? Anyone? Anyone?

Watching people trudge out of flooded neighborhoods, watching them wander amidst the destruction and debris that was their homes, seeing the lawlessness resulting from overwhelmed local authorities makes me think the biggest indictment of the current administration is their handling of this event. If there is one issue for the Democrats to focus on in the mid-term election (and I didn’t think there was a shortage of things for them to focus on, mind you), this is it.

Also, as I heard one newscaster comment this evening, the world is watching and doesn’t it tell us volumes about how we take care of our own. Maybe, the problem is even though Louisiana and Mississippi were in fact red states, the people who remained behind in those neighborhoods in New Orleans didn’t fit the profile of good Republicans - does it have more to do with the economic and racial makeup?

Funny thing is, I’m a Republican and I think that this unequivocally stinks.

No two ways about it - Monday night after the storm had moved up from the coast, the feds should have been poised with manpower and equipment to help these people. 48 hours has passed and the question I have to ask is how many people died during that time and how many more will die over the coming days just because they didn’t get the help they needed? While our president (and because I’m writing this, I cannot manage the snide intonation at the mention of the office) was giving speeches about the War on Terrorism in California of all places, a state over from his ranch there were people suffering, you’d think a guy would be able to prioritize.

More on New Orleans:



The situation looks like it will get worse before it gets better.

As federal emergency management teams reached the area, officials contended with widespread breakdowns in public service. Water plants failed and sewers overflowed. Gas lines ruptured and hospitals shut down. Fuel supplies dwindled.

Katrina's human toll presented the most pressing needs. Even the dead had to wait while search teams aided the living. "We're not even dealing with bodies," Nagin said. Searchers were “just pushing them on the side.”

Came across this graphic which explains exactly what is happening in the city.

It is going to be 90° plus in the city today.

The stench inside the Louisiana Superdome was the worst of it.

It was the smell of refugees who hadn't bathed in days in a facility where the bathrooms were filthy, bins were stuffed with trash and 20,000 people were cooped up with no place to go.

The roof had holes in it, and dozens of people spent the night on the concourse outside the stadium for the coolness — such as it was — and more important, a breath of fresh air. In the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, the air conditioning had been off since Monday. Three displaced hospital patients died in the dome.

The Army Corps. of Engineers doesn’t expect the problem to subside soon.

Once the breaches are closed and all of the pumps are running, the pumps can lower the water level ½ inch per hour or about a foot per day. We can get the water level to sea level in four and a half days. The ½ inch rate assumes the late is at normal levels. That would create pumping inefficiency, as could trash in drains and canals that feed into the pump stations.
That’s a “Best Case” scenario. We don’t know the conditions of all of the pumps. Fortunately most of the pump motors and controllers are at an elevation greater than 5 feet and we hope they weren’t submerged. There could be other unforeseen problems.

The American Tsunami.

Not that you wouldn’t know but, I can’t help but think how so many people across the rest of the country responded and helped New York after September 11th and how this is our opportunity to repay the gracious help in NYC’s time of need by volunteering our time or efforts to help the people affected by Katrina.

If you’re interested, you can start here at The American Red Cross site.

The Red Cross is launching the largest mobilization of resources for a single natural domestic disaster, in part because the extent of the damage is so widespread over a large geographical area. New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin including sending nearly 1,900 staff and volunteers into the field in the next few days, and sending more than 250 Emergency Response Vehicles (ERVs) out to provide food and water to affected residents.

The best way to help is by making an online contribution to the Disaster Relief Fund at www.redcross.org.

If you are interested in volunteering for the American Red Cross, the place to start is your local chapter Red Cross. There you can learn about the training courses necessary to become a disaster volunteer. For more information, visit your local Red Cross chapter online.

Also you can check the FEMA site for the latest news. Of course, spread the word, the more people that can help the better - it’s going to be a long haul.

Katrina foretold?

The passage below is from the October ’04 issue of National Geographic magazine:

As the whirling maelstrom approached the coast, more than a million people evacuated to higher ground. Some 200,000 remained, however—the car-less, the homeless, the aged and infirm, and those die-hard New Orleanians who look for any excuse to throw a party.

The storm hit Breton Sound with the fury of a nuclear warhead, pushing a deadly storm surge into Lake Pontchartrain. The water crept to the top of the massive berm that holds back the lake and then spilled over. Nearly 80 percent of New Orleans lies below sea level—more than eight feet (two meters) below in places—so the water poured in. A liquid brown wall washed over the brick ranch homes of Gentilly, over the clapboard houses of the Ninth Ward, over the white-columned porches of the Garden District, until it raced through the bars and strip joints on Bourbon Street like the pale rider of the Apocalypse. As it reached 25 feet (eight meters) over parts of the city, people climbed onto roofs to escape it.

Thousands drowned in the murky brew that was soon contaminated by sewage and industrial waste. Thousands more who survived the flood later perished from dehydration and disease as they waited to be rescued. It took two months to pump the city dry, and by then the Big Easy was buried under a blanket of putrid sediment, a million people were homeless, and 50,000 were dead. It was the worst natural disaster in the history of the United States.

Click through and you’ll be taken to a page with an abbreviated version of the article, some great pictures and some really interesting links.

After watching the coverage of Katrina over the last two days, I got to thinking about Russ.

You know how you just get a feeling about something? Well, I was thinking about Russ before Katrina ran up onto southern Florida. There’s just been this nasty habit the last couple of years of storms making it into the gulf and then taking a shot at Russ’ neck of the woods.

So, while there was a whole bunch of coverage about New Orleans getting hit and everything, in a way I was hoping the thing would go even further west (although that was pretty unlikely).

Russ has a bookstore in downtown Mobile. It’s about a block or two up from the Mobile river. I sent Russ an email this morning and was surprised when I heard back from him. He was there, camped out in his store. He had power, a window was blown out and he could see the water from the store. I was surprised to hear back from him but I think that was before the power went out. I’m wondering just how high the water got by the time everything was through.

In the interim, I’m flipping channels today going back and forth between fly-overs of flooding and news-guy (person) accounts on the scene. It’s then a couple of things occur to me:

First off, we’re really a nation of rubber-neckers. I think cable television and all these news channels have desensitized us to these horrible, horrible events. The networks are looking to fill airtime and these disasters are the news channel equivalent of a blockbuster film. I’m not diminishing the level of damage and post hurricane suffering that is going to go on but, how many times am I going to have to see some idiot out in the middle of a hurricane with a microphone telling the folks back in the studio how horrible the wind is? It’s like, nitwit! It’s a hurricane! Hello!? That’s what they do. Common sense tells us to find high ground in some really well built structure to ride the thing out not to go out with a satellite truck and park where we’ll be able to see the most damage. The next step will be for some network to put one of these idiots out in a dingy with a camera or videophone so that the jerk can report on the wave heights. Plus having all these schmucks in the middle of storm central probably gives people the mistaken impression somehow they can ride the thing out instead of hightailing it to someplace safe.

Second, president Junior is on the tube today giving a speech about the war on terror. Somebody please wake this moron up. This is not a moment to go on tv and justify your policies because the polls say your numbers are low on the War in Iraq. It’s a time for you to get off your ass and make sure that the federal government is using each and every bit of its resources to alleviate and ease any discomfort citizens affected by a huge natural disaster are enduring. The big news today is Junior is cutting short his month long vaykay and returning to Washington tomorrow to “personally oversee relief efforts.” Newsflash dumbass! People are suffering right now! Get your ass back there today and get a move on.

I generally try to couch what I say and step back a little but, I’m just not patient enough at this moment to endure some stupid spin doctoring. Besides, I’ve got to imagine that all the people in the affected areas are going to be thinking how much more of a response there would be if National Guard troops weren’t on the other side of the planet making the streets safe to pump oil.

Just saying.

Geez, it’s almost Labor Day - guess that means the stores will be putting up the Christmas decorations in a week or two.

Pretty Pictures

Paul has some of his work online so I thought I would post a link to it: click here

Came across this jewel:

Which makes me very happy as I was wondering what to do with the big software install coming up. From the Photoshopblog:

Legally install Photoshop twice with one license
Posted Aug 20, 2005, 11:37 AM ET by Jan Kabili

Your comments to our post asking for your opinion about the requirement to activate Photoshop CS2 suggest that some of you are confused about the number of machines on which you can legally install Photoshop. The answer is not one, but two machines, as long as the second installation is exclusively for your own use and you are not using both copies at the same time. Adobe allows this because they are good guys, who recognize that many of us work on a desktop and a laptop, or have one computer at work and one at home.

This is governed by the Adobe End User License Agreement (EULA), which you should find in your application folder. The Photoshop CS2 EULA doesn’t appear to be posted on the Adobe site. But both the posted EULA for Creative Suite 2 combined products and the posted EULA for Photoshop CS say:

Portable or Home Computer Use. The primary user of the computer on which the software is installed may install a second copy of the Software for his or her exclusive use on either a portable computer or a Computer located at his or her home, provided the Software on the portable or home Computer is not used at the same time as the Software on the primary Computer.

The War Waged for The Page

I know there a lot of people out there who have watched this battle take place. Hence, I am sure they will find this site interesting:

Quark vs InDesign.com

Curiouser and curiouser:

sometimes there are pictures you just have to see to believe...



The question being of course did she take the guy home to meet her mom?

Why?

Amidst the debris - Illustrator 88 program manual, Aldus classroom materials, TOPs networking manual, Linotype RIP 2 operation guide and more. What was I thinking? Going through boxes and finding things there really is no point in keeping.

Speaking of tasteful.

I was speaking to a friend who just returned from a short trip to Vermont and he commented on the character of the city he visited. Lots of smaller stores with merchants doing just fine, thank you very much. It’s something we both noted was in keeping with the character Vermont tries to project (as a destination) of a woodsy, picturesque place inhabited by charming and tasteful rural folk. Mmmm, writing that I was thinking how it may be the US’s answer to Oz’s Munchkinland.

Notable was the absence of the big box store or mega mall virus which has become all too common throughout the country. If they do have the things they are tucked away, almost hidden so as not to spoil the charm of the place - ah, you’ve got to love strong zoning enforcement.

Used to be Manhattan was like Vermont and it seems that changed somewhere along the time they managed to transform 6th Avenue between 14th and 23rd. Well Brooklynites, prepare thyselves you are on the beachhead of this war and this is your d-day.

“Wal-Mart discriminates against women and destroys good jobs, and it would take away business from local businesses. I don’t want it here,” she told the operator, who promised to get her message to the mayor’s office. Gonzalez, 34, like Sikora, lives on the increasingly trendy strip of Fifth Avenue in northern Park Slope, near two sites the retail supergiant is rumored to be considering for its first store in the city.

The Exclusive Tastes of the Gray Lady.

Good article from the Voice about the new building the New York Times is putting up across from Port Authority:

When The New York Times and Forest City Ratner Companies open their grand new office building on Eighth Avenue, it won’t have a Taco Bell, McDonald's, Wendy's, or Nathan’s, because they are specifically forbidden under terms of a land deal with the state. But a Starbucks or Cosi would be just fine.

Saw this jewel,

and thought I would pass it along:

Do you visit your local Starbucks for a Grande Latte every day? If you swear off the ’Buck, you could stand to save almost a million dollars — in about 41 years. That's a long time to stay away from caffeine, but you can ditch the daily expense and still get your fix by investing in your own espresso machine. Sure, operating these pump-driven devices isn’t as easy as flipping on a Mr. Coffee, but making quality espresso drinks isn’t impossible. Over the last few years, design and engineering advances have produced machines small enough for your kitchen counter, yet capable of creating the water pressure and temperatures needed to brew the real black gold at home. Whether you want push-button simplicity or the tactile grace of a manual lever — utilitarian or high-fashion — the variety of machines and accessories available is enough to fill a coffee lover’s heart with crema. With the right ingredients and a little help from a vibrant online community of espresso fiends, nearly anyone can become a home barista — and the only tip jar you'll have to fill is your own.

Reminds me of the strange looks I got when I bought in a espresso maker to different gigs. At the end of the day though, it was better than schlepping and it was my form of the cigarette break.

How long?

Yes, we’re in Iraq because we wanted to bring a free and open society to the Middle East as well as depose a megalomaniacal dictator (wink, wink). Of course, lower prices for gas at the pumps was just a small ancillary benefit we’d all enjoy as we’re tooling around in our SUV’s running errands by ourselves. It would be especially kind to those of us who were childless masters of the universe trying to make sure everyone got a glimpse of our ostentatious display of wealth and success.

but wait...

You say the price of gasoline at the pump is actually increasing?!?!? How can this be? We paid for that cheap gasoline with the lives of young American men and women!

I’m just curious how long the status quo will continue before we see the kind of big demonstrations that happened before they sent troops into Iraq - it’s coming. I have no doubt about it. Unless the administration is prepared to make a grand, sweeping gesture and begin reducing the number of troops serving in Iraq dramatically, I can’t help but think that as the price of a gallon of gas rises, even the people who agreed with the administrations decision will start to look up and take notice.

Do you find yourself becoming increasingly inured to the daily reports of bombings and loss of life? It appears there is a daily report of people losing their lives in a cycle of violence that doesn’t seem to be abating. Maybe the number of bodies coming back in body bags isn’t the number to make people sit up and take notice, maybe the important number is the price of a gallon of gas at the pump. Says a lot about us as a nation, don’t you think?

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

Following the example set by a friend, I have decided to obsess on work done a long time ago.

Quite aways back, I did some work for Marvel, before Photoshop became all the rage. Before Photoshop was even Photoshop - does anyone remember ImageStudio and ColorStudio? I did a few coloring jobs. Fun to do, nothing I could earn a living off of but, certainly a goal I had set for myself had been met after a fashion (working in comics in some capacity).

So, if you see these issues, you can pick apart my work.

The first job came out horribly, the result of a misreading of some color codes. The second job, I could actually live with. My only regret was when I met Marshall Rogers (the penciler on the job) recently, he didn’t have any of the originals from that story left and also that I didn’t pursue the coloring work a bit more.

I’ve toyed with the idea of doing coloring in Photoshop (working up some new samples) - it’s certainly a lot easier (Photoshop coloring) in some respects than working with the old Dr. Martin’s dyes was but, coloring has changed so much. Now colorists, instead of coloring a job and setting the mood, feel compelled to go in and work the artwork excessively - it’s sometimes akin to watching The League of Frustrated Pencillers. There are a few who do it well and understand what coloring is about but, there are quite a few more that somehow think modeling three figures in a small panel on a page somehow enhances a job (instead of muddying it up).

I’m thinking about starting a little side project titled ‘When bad colorists happen to good art.’ There’s some decent fodder there for Kevin Smith if he ever decides to do a sequel to Chasing Amy.

The first job:


and the second:

Do cats dream?

I would venture to say yes. This after watching my cat curl up next to me, fall deeply asleep (not pretend sleep that cats sometimes do) and hearing her meow (not sure if she had at first) and watching her paw away at something in her sleep. It was really quite funny - was there some idealized kitty hunt? I’ll never know but, it certainly was interesting to watch.

By the by...

Just to clarify some comments in regard to our pal Stalking Cat below. While I actually like body mods and tattooing for the most part, I’m thinking the native Americans had no ancient tradition whereby they underwent surgery to have removable whiskers implanted. That’s just our boy Dennis trying to justify the whole thing.

Friends, don’t let friends...



Dennis Avner, who goes by his Native American name, Stalking Cat, is known around the world as the Catman. Over the past 25 years, Stalking Cat, 47, has received so many surgical and cosmetic procedures he’s lost count. And he says all of them – from full-face tattoos to fanged dentures to steel implants for detachable ‘whiskers’ – have been done to achieve oneness with what he calls his totem, the tiger.

“I’m Huron and Lakota,” he said, relaxing barefoot in his Freeland living room. “I’m just taking a very old tradition, that to my knowledge is not practiced anymore.”

Funny, I would’ve bet his totem was the jackass - but hey, whatever floats your boat. I’m thinking though, if you decide to commit yourself to a look like that, you should probably be changing your name to unemployed cat cause you are assuredly limiting the career options.

How you liking that Hummer now buddy?



It was only a matter of time and I doubt the trend is going to reverse itself (lower prices).

You?re seeing gas prices rise in the blink of an eye, and it seems a sure bet they?ll go higher. That?s why a major Internet sports-betting parlor began offering odds on rising gas prices this month, and why business is booming for traders who buy and sell oil contracts.

Still, in the bizarro world we live in, the same day people are talking about the high price of gas, this little tidbit comes out:

The Bush administration is expected to abandon a proposal to extend fuel economy regulations to include Hummer H2?s and other huge sport utility vehicles, auto industry and other officials say.

The proposal was among a number of potential strategies outlined by the administration in 2003 to overhaul mileage requirements for light trucks - sport utility vehicles, pickup trucks and minivans. It had been seen by industry officials as likely to be adopted.

But the impact of the tougher requirements would have been borne almost solely by the increasingly troubled domestic auto industry, a concern for the administration.

Yes, the higher prices are becoming the fodder of columnists everywhere:

I remember the exact time when last hit by a $50-a-tank earthquake - the gas pump as well as the circumstance. It was Aug. 14, 1981. My family and I were packed and loaded for a 2,253-mile round trip from New York to Yellowstone Park. As I pulled into the gas lane, the attendant was rubbing his hands together at the sight of our rented recreational vehicle, a 1976 Dodge Coachman standing 11 feet high and measuring 22 feet bumper to bumper.

My latest project

One of many, the result of one of those sudden accidents. I was going to just plunk down the money and get another keyboard but figured I would give this a try first.

The OUCH heard round the game

My love of baseball is boundless and I always find it an enormous treat when there is a game on during the day. Last week, I was listening to the Mets play the Padres (if you really want to enjoy a baseball game, you have to listen to the radio broadcast) when they described the collision between Carlos Beltran and Mike Cameron.



I?ve watched a lot of baseball through the years and since I was half listening to the game, when I heard the announcers? voices fill with concern, I ran over and turned on the tube just to see what they were talking about. It was the kind of thing that hurt just to watch. Thankfully, the guys are alright (alright being able to keep walking) although it looks like a season ender for the players in question and the team as well.

Required reading...

I came across this through Monsterblog. Wonderful reading and will undoubtedly bring groans of empathy from most people working in offices these days from http://www.iworkwithfools.com/

Phone rings. CASPER answers it.
CASPER: Hello.
BOSS: Casper? I need you to write a program that takes images off of an optical drive and stores them on the AS/400. IBM has API’s to do this, but they don't support the hardware or the software anymore so the API’s might not work.
CASPER: Ok, well if everything works, and there is documentation on the API’s, I can slap something together. But I need more detail on the interface and everything. When do you need it?
BOSS: In one week. What is doc...docu...documenta....
CASPER: Documentation. And one week is a little too tight.
BOSS: Ok. Start working on it and I will find you some dobumenbation.
CASPER: Documentation.
BOSS: Whatever.
Click. The phone goes dead.

Three weeks later. Phone rings. CASPER answers.
CASPER: Hello.
BOSS: Hey! How's that project coming...what was it? Double-mint-nation or something?
CASPER: You mean documentation?
BOSS: Yeah! That’s it! How's that doo...er...stuff coming?
CASPER: Well you were supposed to get me some more info on what the client needs – interface-wise – and scare up some documentation on the API’s.
BOSS: You have to think outside the box; work smarter not harder. You need some synergy, blah, blah, blah.
CASPER: No, just some documentation.
BOSS: Jeez! What is it with you and doctor-menstruation?
CASPER: Documentation.
BOSS: Whatever.
Click.

[Not The End]"

Free swag...



Get a free issue of Photoshop User magazine just by filling out a form - found in the Photoshop 7.0 box. Click on the mag cover above.

More from the workaday world..

I was doing some looking around for some data for another entry and I came across this by way of the extremely readable Monster blog. It’s a great observation.

© 2005 from Games Companies Play: The Job Hunter's Guide to Playing Smart & Winning Big in the High-Stakes Hiring Game by Pierre Mornell

Once upon a time, a highly successful executive was hit by a bus, and she died. She was met at the pearly gates by St. Peter himself. “Welcome to Heaven,” said St. Peter. “Before you get settled in though, it seems we have a problem. Strangely enough, we’ve never once had an executive make it this far, and we’re really not sure this is where you belong. What we’re going to do is let you have a day in Hell and a day in Heaven. Then you can choose where you want to spend eternity.”

“Actually,” said the woman, “I think I’d prefer to stay in Heaven.”

“Sorry, we have rules...,” said St. Peter, and with that, he put the executive in an elevator, and it went down, down, down to Hell.

The doors opened, and the executive stepped out onto the putting green of a beautiful golf course. In the distance was a country club, and there to greet her were her business associates, friends, and colleagues, all dressed in evening clothes and cheering for her. They ran up and kissed her on both cheeks, and they talked about old times. They played a great round of golf and went to the country club for dinner and dancing that night, where she enjoyed an excellent steak and lobster meal.

She met the Devil, who was actually a really nice guy (kinda cute). The conversation was spirited, and she never laughed so hard in her life. In fact, she was having such a good time that before she knew it, it was time to leave. Everybody shook her hand and waved goodbye as she got on the elevator. The elevator went up, up, up, St. Peter awaited her.

“Now it’s time to spend a day in Heaven,” he said. And for twenty-four hours, she lounged on clouds, caught a harp concert, and listened to a choir of angels. She had a great time, and before she knew it, her twenty-four hours were up.

“So, you’ve spent a day in Hell, and you’ve spent a day in Heaven,” said St. Peter when they met again, “Now you must choose your eternity.”

The woman paused, and then replied, “Well, I never thought I’d say this. I mean, Heaven has been really great and all, but I think I had a better time in Hell.”

So St. Peter escorted her back to the elevator, said so long, and she went back to Hell. This time when the doors of the elevator opened, the executive found herself standing in a desolate wasteland covered in garbage and filth. Her friends were there, but dressed in rags, and they were picking up garbage and putting it in sacks. The Devil came up to her and put his arm around her.

“I don’t understand,” stammered the woman, “Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and a country club, and we ate steak, and we danced and had a great time. Now there is a wasteland of garbage and all my friends look miserable.”

The Devil smiled. “Yesterday, we were recruiting you,” he said, “ Today you’re staff.”

Talking about Lorenz and baseball...

Funny thing, I was listening to NPR this afternoon and heard the annoucer talk about (what sounded like) a Lorenz contraction while watching a baseball game, immediately my mind went to a friend who is a big Yankees fan

Lorentz contraction

(lôr´?nts) , in physics, contraction or foreshortening of a moving body in the direction of its motion, proposed by H. A. Lorentz on theoretical grounds and based on an earlier suggestion by G. F. Fitzgerald; it is sometimes called the Fitzgerald, or Lorentz-Fitzgerald, contraction.

The story was broadcast on All Things Considered

You can access the story directly by clicking this link.

What does the future hold?

An interesting page from U.S. Department of Labor Bureau of Labor Statistics Occupational Outlook Handbook

Artists and Related Workers

Significant Points

More than half of all artists and related workers were self-employed—almost eight times the proportion for all professional and related occupations.

Artists usually develop their skills through a bachelor’s degree program or other postsecondary training in art or design.

Keen competition is expected for both salaried jobs and freelance work, because many talented people are attracted to the visual arts.

Definitely worth a look.

The End of An Era?

Earlier this year, I was on my way to a movie on the upper west side on a bitterly cold February Sunday. As I walked with my companion, she briefly stopped and turned to her left.

“Did you see who that was?”

Being intent on getting to the theater in time to catch the movie, as well as wanting to get out of the cold, I had paid little attention to other pedestrians, “No, who are you talking about?”

She gestured back over her shoulder and up the side street we had just crossed pointing towards a man dressed an expensive looking overcoat making his way towards Colombus Avenue, “That was Peter Jennings!”

“Yeah the ABC studios are around the corner on 67th street.”

“But, he was walking a dog...”

Sure enough, when I looked again I noticed his right hand bore the telltale gesture of a dog-walker trying to reign in his pet. His left hand was held tightly at his side, shortly a small telltale cloud quickly appeared and then vanished in the cold winter breeze.



For more than two decades, he had been part of a trio of anchors – with Dan Rather of CBS and Tom Brokaw of NBC – who guided Americans through important news events on the major U.S. networks.

"There are a lot of people who think our job is to reassure the public every night that their home, their community and their nation is safe," he once told Jeff Alan, author of Anchoring America: The Changing Face of Network News.

"I don't subscribe to that at all. I subscribe to leaving people with essentially – sorry, it's a cliché – a rough draft of history. Some days it's reassuring, some days it's absolutely destructive.”

Jennings was part of an era, an era where Americans turned to the three large broadcast networks each evening to find out what was going on in the world. His integrity was never called into question and he will be missed.

And now a short 30 second musical interlude to brighten your day...

Everytime I hear this, I can’t help but think of the Vonage commercials and how much I laugh when I see them...

Click here

Funny thing is, I have this on cd and for some reason thought it was some obscure hillbilly singer.

Finally, a name has been applied!

Came across this article by Amy Sohn up on the New York Press site that makes for some interesting reading...

The most surefire way to let a guy know you want him is to give him a detailed account of a relationship you had in the past. The Ex-Lover Review, as I have dubbed it, accomplishes several important goals: a) affirming your desirability by letting the guy know he's not alone in finding you attractive; b) revealing your skill at monogamy by letting him know you've been monogamous in the past; c) subtly informing him that although Ex-Lover wound up letting you down, you're looking to meet a new guy who wouldn't; and d) getting him hot by painting a vivid picture of yourself in various compromising positions.

Sounds good right? Read the whole article before you jump to conclusions.