Jericho: In WDC ...

Yup, I'm in DC. I spent the lion's share of last week arranging and rearranging travel and lodging for a training class. This class is on VoIP, since we are working on picking out a new VoIP system for the firm, we are trying to get trained up. My co-worker has taken this class, and got a lot out of it. So, my boss wanted me to get the same class and the same trainer - this guy has a resume that reads like the history of telecom. At one point or another, I had arranged for travel to Philly, Raleigh and Boston. I had a class cancelled out from under me. I have also had and lost three hotel rooms just in DC.

Airlines and hotels are weird things. Get this; direct flight from Seattle to DC, arranged two days before the flight, round trip $300. I can't get coast to coast for less than $500 a person a month before I traveled, but this fare just magically popped up.

Anyway, since it was easier to arrange travel on Saturday, I got one day to be a tourist. Of course, that meant that my foot decided to act up and limit my walking. I decided I wanted to go the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum. I've wanted to go there for, oh, a decade or two. So, I took a bunch of ibuprophen and went looking for public transport. I didn't know that DC had an underground train system. I've lived in a bus only town for too long. Loved this train! The tunnel, pictured above, is way cool. Just the lighting screams out "urban cool". I'm hoping that Seattle's future train system will be half as cool.

Anyway, I made it to the museum. This picture pretty much sums up the history of flight, don't it? Museums always mess with me. I always think they will be great, and this one was excellent, but I always feel let down. Seeing the cool things other people have done does nothing to make my life feel more significant. My feet didn't act up too much. I had a good time. Now, I get to spend the rest of the week learning stuff. Wish me luck.

Jericho: Yes, he is - annnnnd .....

"Sulu" came out. It's about time, George.

It's not that I knew before hand or anything. It's just that it's not a shock. The man goes to Trek conventions and hosts morning aerobics classes. You would never catch Shattner doing this.

I'm glad George is out. It's good for him, the gay community and the fannish community. With George's political aspirations, could he run against the Governator? That would be a hell of an election! People turning out to the polls in costume. I love it!

Jericho: Imagine ... a Green Bush

My wife spotted this interesting tid-bit.

As many of our long time readers know, I think cars are polluting death traps that should be recycled into large scale public transportation systems. This nation's unhealthy dependence on fossil fuels is an embarrassment and huge chip on my shoulder.

For those of you born after the 70s, there was a previous gas shortage. Prices sky rocketed, lines formed around the block only to be turned away at empty pumps, people bought lockable gas caps to prevent siphoning, people turned in their land yachts for Toyotas. Of couse, Toyota now makes some of the biggest SUVs on the road.

We should have learned the lesson of fossil fuels in the 70s. But, no, cars grew from sub-compacts back up and then got even bigger, the Ford "E" for "Excessive" series being the case in point.

Why did we go this way? Simple economics. Auto manufacturers made larger and larger cars, oil producers kept raising prices. Auto manufacturers produced more fuel efficient cars. Oil producers lowered prices. Auto manufacturers made larger cars that used more gas. Oil producers raised prices. Etc. To get the advantages of the new car, you have to buy it. The more cars on the road means more gas sold. Everybody wins except the consumer.

Now, we have Jeb. Jeb Bush has been in the news a lot in the last five years. The coup he and his brother Bush committed gained Jeb much public attention and gained Lil'George the Whitehouse. Jeb has gotten a lot of attention with all the weather ruckus in his state. If you think that it's just coincidence, you need to have your paranoia meter tuned. I'm sure that Jeb is already thinking of himself as the third President Bush. Do you think Jeb will sign the Kyoto Accords?

The fact that Jeb is driving around in a Ford Hybrid just illustrates everything that is wrong in the world today. Okay, I can hear you now, but really it does. Ford is one of the worst when it comes to producing gas guzzling cars. So, they produce a hybrid SUV, it will get gas mileage like a midsize car, instead of a luxury sedan. Whoop-tee-doo-dah! So what? If it used no gas at all, I'd call it a step forward. Ford produces something that makes them bank, saves a little gas, still pollutes and they are heralded as leading the industry.

Jeb is just as bad. His entire family fortune is based on the oil industry and politics - an incestuous duo if there ever was one. Jeb Bush driving around in a Ford Escape Hybrid is like Bill Gates listening to an Apple iPod. Jeb Bush telling people to conserve gas is like Bill Clinton telling kids not to have oral sex. Hypocritical is not a strong enough term.

I mean, what is it with this country and their cars and gasoline? When I was in high school, I had an advanced biology text that talked about the fact that the US Department of Energy at the time offered a set of instructions and a license to build a home refinery - a moonshine still. You could take grass clippings and other organic matter and make ethanol, what some might call garbahol, because you have taken all the garbage in the house and made alcohol. Any car without a catalytic converter, pretty much any of the land yachts I mentioned before, could run this stuff. It was higher in octane than gas and it would wear out an engine faster than gas, but it was free, non-polluting and renewable! It could be made for pennies in your garage and give new life to cars that were clogging up junk yards the country over. This was never promoted and never caught on.

Hell, you can't even get NASCAR to take the lead out of their fuel. Indy cars use M100 and are going to E100, but all those NASCAR fans, especially their kids, are getting lead poisoning from going to the races. Perfect example of the stupidity of this subject.

These days there are all kinds of debates about alternative fuels. Hydrogen is a big headline maker. I've never understood it. I mean, sure, I'm behind "the hydrogen economy" because any fuel is better than gas. But, we live in a country where we pay farmers to NOT grow crops to support crop prices and we are paying $3 a gallon for gas. They could be growing sugar beets for ethanol. We have entire cities wiped off the map because of hurricanes, those extra strong hurricanes are probably caused by global warming which is likely the result of a hundred years of fossil fuel usage.

"Pollute me?" says Mother Nature, "Well, Hurricane you, buddy!"

We get people warring over E15 and E85 and E100. Why? I mean, alcohol is the perfect alternative fuel. You can make it from any organic substance. Other countries, Russia and Brazil, have long standing E100 programs. We should really push in that direction. It's easy, cheap, renewable ... what's stopping us? Lower gas prices bother people? Cleaner air a problem? More jobs in the agricultural sector hurting people's feelings? Someone explain to me why we shouldn't ditch oil?

Oh yeah, the Bushes. I forgot.

Max: Blue City in a Red State

Via STLToday.com

St. Louis on Friday joined a list of other cities urging Congress to repeal the "don't ask, don't tell" policy on gays in the military.

Aldermanic president James Shrewsbury introduced the resolution that was unanimously approved. It urges Congress to pass and President Bush to sign the Military Readiness Enhancement Act, introduced in March, which would allow lesbians, gays and bisexuals to serve openly.

"You don't have to be a gay rights activist to oppose discrimination," Shrewsbury said. "There is no relationship between performance in any position and sexual orientation."

Max: Christmas Comes Early

Via CNN.

"A Texas court issued a warrant Wednesday for former House Majority Leader Tom DeLay to appear for booking, where he is likely to face the fingerprinting and photo mug shot he had hoped to avoid."

Max: Oldies But Goodies

Here you will find a list of the first 100 Internet domains registered.

Jericho: Google Doofus

Ever get bored? Happened to me.

So, I went to Google, clicked on Images, typed in the word "doofus" and this is what came back.

Not sure if he's winking or belching. Creepy either way.

Apparently, the word "doof" means something very different in German than it does in English. I don't recommend looking for that in Google Images while at work.

Max: Freaky Microbe Will Rise Up and Kill us All

MSN-Mainichi Daily News: National News

"A mysterious marine microbe, half of whose individual cells eat algae like animals while the rest perform photosynthesis like plants, has been discovered, a University of Tsukuba research team said."

Max: Sensible Drug Control Policy

Via CNN.

"An Army veteran who fled to Canada to avoid prosecution for growing marijuana to treat his chronic pain was taken from a hospital, driven to the border with a catheter still attached, and turned over to U.S. officials, his lawyer said.

Steven W. Tuck then went five days with no medical treatment and only ibuprofen for the pain, the attorney said.

Tuck, 38, was still fitted with the urinary catheter when he shuffled into federal court Wednesday for a detention hearing Wednesday.

...

U.S. Magistrate Judge James P. Donohue ordered Tuck temporarily released so he could be taken to a hospital for treatment. But by the time Donohoe issued his order, King County Jail officials had received a detainment request from Humboldt County, California, so Tuck was not released Wednesday, Hiatt said."

I can't even think of something sarcastic to say about this. If I didn't know better I would think this was straight out of Kafka.

Max: Hogwarts Dancers

This makes my brain hurt.

Found via Cupie.

Max: The Philospohers

Here it is, the sequel to The Drummer.

The Philosophers

It began with physics and ended with comedians. They both sat in silence. Neither of them was quite sure what one subject had to do with the other. Nor were they sure how they managed to work them both into the same conversation. Maybe it was the day old joint or the fourteen year old beer, but this had beena thought provoking, mind-blowing discussion of German females.

Suddenly, Nick stopped and looked at the joint. "You know," he managed to gargle through the beer, "I bet the joint would be much more effective if we actually smoked it."

"Smoke it?!?" Stiv gargled back haughtilly (Stiv had the amazing ability to sound haughty even with a mouth full of well expired lager). "Only those with no sense of style actually smoke joints. People who are with it prefer a much more minimalist approach. Why, I know of a chap who doesn't even keep the joint in the same room with him."

"Well, can't we at least swallow the beer?"

Stiv chortled haughtily, shook his head and gargled at the same time. A trully stupendous and with it feat.

Max: The Drummer

Here is a story Jericho and I wrote over a decade ago, well before we became stars on teh intarweb. This is sort of a picture of the Weirdos as young nutballs

The Drummer

They made a drummer out of him though he didn't want to be.

He beat and beat and beat against his will. The sheer blinding pleasure was nothing but pain. His wrists hurt, his palms were bruised, his elbows felt like water balloons, his biceps ached interminably. Not that they cared. All that mattered to them was sticks and heads.

They were horrible to him. They drug him from town to town, city to city, country to country, continent to continent. They would have gone planet to planet if there was a decent space program. Automobiles, busses, taxis, limousines, planes, helicopters, subways, submarines, motorcycles, horse drawn carriages, ten speed bicycles, left handed scooters all became a blur of transportation and running landscapes.

He made love to an endless stream of beautiful women, and a few ugly ones. He rolled over and faced the one he was with now. He thought her name was "Emerald", but he could easily be wrong.

"Hey you," he shook her awake.

"Huh?" she muttered. "What? You want more, you animal?" she teased.

"Do you know what it is like to beat and beat against your will?"

"Hey! I don't do none of that kinky stuff!"

In a fit of artistic frustration worthy of quite a large press release, he kicked her out. They didn't understand. Nobody understands, with the possible exception of Roger Waters. With that gloriously, artistically depressing thought, he put THE WALL on the CD player. After listening to the first minute or so, he thought it was too depressing for such a small audience (himself and the cockroaches) so he proceeded to put the nearest chair throught the unsuspecting CD player.

Then he called his press manager to report on this morning's fruitful antisocial activities. Not that he wanted to be antisocial. They made him. He then proceeded to the hotel restaurant wearing nothing but the condom from last night's meaningless, unfulfilling fling.

The Maitre D'Hotel was not surprised by his dress, or lack thereof, as there were three other bands in the hotel at that time. As a matter of fact, they were all in the restaurant wearing nothing but condoms from their own meaningless, unfulfilling flings. All the bands, save his, who were conspicuously missing. He was contemplating taking advantage of this opportunity to escape when he grabbed from behind. He turned to see a member of hotel security whose hand was firmly grasping his arm.

"I'm sorry sir, but appearing in the hotel restaurant in prophylactics, or any other form of contraception, is strictly against hotel policy."

The guard then proceeded to tie him into a pretzel and took him back to his room. Upon opening the door, he saw the rest of the band lying about the room, nude, without a bit of latex in sight. Obviously, they were ready for a good time. They drug him to the floor and unpretzeled him.

The bass player was the first to mount him.

"What about protection?" he pleaded, trying to get her off.

"I'm using the rhythm method," she responded with an appropriately knowing leer.

He punched her a good one to the jaw, ran to the window and jumped out. This would have been great material for the biography if they weren't on the first floor. Instead, he only got a face full of sculpted shrubbery. He looked down to find his condom missing. He then looked up to the security guard standing over him. The guard wrapped his hand around his arm in a way that was becoming increasingly familiar.

"I'm sorry sir, but jumping into the shrubbery is against hotel policy." The guard then picked him up.

"I hate to do this sir. Well, not really. You see, it has been a slow day and I really need to do this."

Our hero then found himself flying back through the window and landing with the most graceful thump ever executed.

The thump was quickly followed by several other less graceful thumps as the band piled on top of him. This would have bee the world's record of orgies if it weren't for last night's. But as none of them could remember it, it really didn't matter.

By this time, he was thoroughly sick of the whole thing He would have gotten up and left if he could figure out which body was his. Instead of straining what was left of his gray matter, he decided it would be easier to enjoy it.

It was about two in the afternoon by the time he realized they had all left. He took quick a inventory just to make sure all his original equipment was there. It all looked reasonably familiar, so he decided not to worry about it. He did find that he was wearing the condom again. He considered going to lunch, but decided that the security guard had had enough fun.

He reached over, picked up the phone, slammed it against the wall a few times, then called room service. He ordered up the typical drummer's lunch; a triple cheese burger, two pounds of fries with extra grease and a fifth of Jack. Upon the arrival of his food, be boofed the waitperson, tossed them out the door and scarfed heartily.

Upon the completion of his meal he was grabbed from behind and forcefully dressed. After this horrible experience he was dragged from his room. Once on the elevator, he realized that his attackers were his bandmates.

"Time for soundcheck, dude."

An overwhelming sense of foreboding came over him. "Please don't make me go!" he pleaded.

"Oh, don't be such a wus."

"But I'm having an overwhelming sense of foreboding!"

"You always have overwhelming senses of foreboding."

"But this time I mean it!"

The elevator came to a halt and the doors slid open. The band proceeded out of the hotel, dragging their percussionist behind them. Once outside they were attacked and fatally pummeled by a group of upright, moral people opposed to rock and roll.

"You should have listened to me," he mumbled dramatically.

"Oh, shut up!" were the bass player's final words.

The rest of the band expired in rapid order. All, but the drummer who held on. A young woman holding drum sticks bent over him.

"Bobby?" She took his hand. "Bobby, I love you. You're my biggest inspiration."

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a small white card and handed it to his nubile fan. She looked at the card. It had a series of seven numbers on it.

"What's this?"

"C...ca...call my press manager." He then dramatically died.

Max: It's Fall and I Can't Get it Up

I love fall. Fall and Spring are my favorite times of the year. Temperatures in the 60-75 degree range are just about perfect. Add in some sun and I can't help but feel good. I am able to actually get outside and not sweat or freeze. I probably get the more exercise during Fall and Spring just because I like to get out and walk.

I also like them because they bring out my more reflective side. When I am out walking or just watching the world go by, my mind will wander. It gives me a chance to put the present aside and think and plan for the future. I tend to be more creative because I am thinking more. For a few months I have been playing around with an idea for a movie. I had most of the characters thought out. I had some scenes in my head. I had a sense of how I would like the movie to look and feel. But I didn't have much of a plot, I had no center of gravity to bring together all the thoughts. But, now that I am in thinking mode, I have figured out the plot to go with the characters and the overall feel.

Plus, I just tend to feel better about life. I can think about things like ideas for movies without worrying about how unlikely it is that I will ever really make one. I can just enjoy the creative process and forget about what may or may not come of it. And taking pleasure in things for what they are, not what might or might not be in a few years is something I think I need to do more, even when the weather is not so to my taste.

Jericho: Mac Zap

*Sigh.*

So, Friday morning, 4 AM, our power went out. It probably flickered on two or three times, then went out. This is normal. We lose power around here two or three times a year for more than a few hours. Power pops off now and then and then pops back on. The wiring in this house flutters - leaving a light on in the house means the bulb will be burnt out in less than two weeks. None of this is, well, shocking ...

Since the fan and AC were out, there was no white noise in the bedroom. Sleep was tough from that point on. Finally, we got up and went to the gym. Just for showers, mind you. Our hot water heater is electric. So, by the time we got to work, it had already been a long day. Between Noon and Five I managed to get myself sent to our Denver office from Monday to Thursday. Work just happens like that now and then.

When we arrived home, power was back on, but it had only been on for about three hours. Nothing unusual there, either. I went off to change clothes and Steph went to check something on the computer. She called out a minute later, the Mac wasn't coming on.

I came out and pressed the buttons. I pressed the buttons. I pressed the buttons. No Mac.

I experimented further. I unplugged the Mac and let it cool off. When I plugged it back in, as soon as I plugged it in, the power supply fan turned on. An LED on the mother board came on, too, but nothing beyond that. With the power supply kicking on as soon as there is power, I am assuming that at least the power supply is blown. But, that can lead to lots of other problems.

Before anyone asks, yes, the computer was on a surge protector. However, with all the surges we have had, I guess it failed. It was bound to happen. Hind sight it 20/20. The worst part is that all my graphics tools, web page tools and other creative stuff were on that machine. I wanted to make some changes to BlogBallyhoo this weekend. Since I will be out for most of next week, and then the following week, I'll be in Vancouver for some training, I guess that won't happen now.

We're going to take the Mac to the experts after Vancouver. We'll see what's wrong and if it's worth repairing. With a Mac Mini coming in between $500 and $700, and with having a (hopefully) working monitor, we won't put too much money into repairing this machine. Not that we have any money to invest in this, but if I'm going to be broke, I might as well have a nice computer!

RIP Ferd ~ 01/01 to 10/05

Max: Bass Camp 1 Year Later

A little over a year ago, I went to Victor Wooten's Bass/Nature Camp. I could not believe my luck when I found out I had been accepted. I had applied before and was completely unsurprised, if just a little disappointed, to get rejected. Finally I had been accepted. Not only was I accepted, but I just around the same time I came into the money that would pay for it and the week the camp was scheduled was one of the few weeks still open on the vacation schedule up at work. A more theistic person would see this as a sign of some divine grace. Even though I am a skeptical agnostic, I had to marvel at the luck.

For one week, I got to learn about the bass from Victor Wooten, Steve Bailey, Chuck Rainey, Gerald Veasley, Will Lee, Stanley Clarke and more. These were people I had admired for years and there I was in a cabin in the woods with them. I am still processing a lot of what I learned there. Even the nature side, which I was not at terribly interested in when I went in, proved to be interesting. I even got to connect with Gerald Veasley and Chuck Rainey on a personal level, something I will treasure for a lifetime.

It is hard to write about my experience, not because it was unpleasant, but because it was so rich. When I think about it, the memories overwhelm my ability to put them into words. I spent more time outside that week that I probably had in the preceding six months. I was closer to raw nature that I am usually comfortable with. It was not a pleasure each and every moment. But even when it was kind of nasty and dirty, I still took something of value away.

Music is something I treasure more than just about anything in my life. Every night for a week, I got to see musicians I admire jamming away. Lack of money often keeps me from seeing concerts. But that week, I got a lifetime supply of musical memories.

On top of that, musicians I admire, people who could have easily been out working some high paying session or gig, took a week out of their lives to help me become a better musician. Okay, they didn't do it specifically for just me. But like I said, I am still processing all I learned that week.

I drove away from that camp with a bit of sadness. But I was also energized. I felt like I might actually tame that four stringed beast. And I have to say, I have grown musically more in the past year than in all the years since I picked up my first bass.

When I am feeling frustrated, bitter that life has not turned out how I hoped, if I manage to cut through my negativity enough to remember my week at Bass/Nature Camp, I have no choice to admit that despite all the other bullshit, sometimes life is pretty good.

Jericho: All right - I'm slow!

I'm a total jerk, so I'll just come clean on all points.

There is this national deal for bloggists called Weblogger Meetup. I joined the Seattle version of this about three years ago, never went to a single meeting. The thing that makes it worse is that this thing is organized by my friend Anita, and since I don't get to see her very often, you'd think I'd use the Meetup as an excuse to see her. Yeah. Riiiight!

So, I looked at Anita's blog and saw that the East Side (Bellevue; east of Seattle) meeting was happening on Tuesday. Groovy, thought I, here is a chance for me to promote BlogBallyhoo to a group of rich Microsofties. (MS is in Redmond, also on the east side, lots of bloggists at MS.) I even managed to have some work to do at the Bellevue office, so I could arrive WAY early to the meeting. Excellent, super, the first time I go to the event my friend is organizing, I go because of ulterior motives. Sheesh!

So, I go, I wait, I look around the shopping center where this is being hosted, I wait. Finally, meeting time approaches. I see Anita and greet her. She assumes I'm just there shopping. Nope, I'm here as a shill. Okay, I didn't say that, I just said I was there for the meeting. She points out Jack and tells me she'll be back with some food.

I finally get to meet Jack! I talked to him briefly once and not for several years since. See, Anita and I dated for a while. I mean, it's way ancient history, but I still think it can be tough on two guys. But, Jack was nothing but nice. He was playing with his Grandson and having a good time. Anita came back with food and then two other bloggists showed up. We had a great conversation, blogging was barely mentioned. Anita tells me that the Meetup in Seattle is a much larger group of folks. But, it was fun hanging out with new people and old friends.

So, what makes me a bigger jerk, then? Well, it took me far too many days to post this report, the others had their reports up way before me. And, worse, I'm a terrible shill. I didn't mention BlogBallyhoo once! *Sigh!*

Anyway, Anita's report is here. Tommy, an MS guy, has his report here. Alex is a neat and cool British, MS dude, he has a report here.

BTW, there is a Meetup for Bloggists in STL (Hint!) and 22 other cities.

Max: Urine

I just received the following email from my wife;

It's kinda funny... the phone rang a while ago and it said "xxxxx health" so I answered. "Laura?" "Um, yeah?" "I just wanted to let you know your urnialisis came in and you're all clear." "That's great, but I didn't take one." silence on other end of line. "I was in yesterday, but I didn't take a urine test." "What were you in for?" "Poision Ivy" pause again "When's your birthday?" "10/6/77" (no happy birthday from her) more pausing. "Ok, we'll straighten it out." "Thanks. I'm glad to know whomever it is is healthy, though" "yeah. bye" No humor in that woman. yeish.

Max: Pan-Happiness Day

Happy Birthday to my wife.

Happy Anniversary to my ex-Husband and the woman who stole him from me.

Happy House Appraisal Day to everyone else.

Max: Spreading Freedom and Democracy

Afgani magazine editor arrrested for printing "un-Islamic" material

"KABUL, Afghanistan - The editor of an Afghan women's rights magazine was jailed after a presidential adviser accused him of publishing un-Islamic material - including an article critical of the practice of punishing adultery with 100 lashes, officials said Friday."

Max: Dreams

I used to say that dreams can never be lost, only surrendered. I still believe that to be true. But I am learning that some dreams should be surrendered. I used to have big, unrealistic dreams. Some were unrealistic because they were just not within the realm of the likely. Others were unrealistic because I was unwilling to do the work needed to make them real. Those are the sort of dreams that can hold one in place instead of moving one forward.

One dream I have surrendered is the hope that I will one day make all or part of my living as a musician. I never worked hard enough on my instrument and have never made any serious attempt to start a band despite the fact that I know more musicians than I have toes. Oddly enough, it has been since surrendering that dream that I have started to achieve real growth as a musician. When my musical event horizon shrank from some out there unreality to just playing for fun in my room, and maybe jamming with a friend or two if we can ever find the time, it just became more real. It has become more something that I can do now and less something I may do someday. That small now seems a much more healthy environment musically speaking.

That is just one dream I surrendered and was the better for it. That doesn't mean all dreams are best surrendered. I am still hanging on to the dream that I may someday make my living in a more interesting - less unpleasant - way than the way I now do. I know that I want out of tech if I can. I love tech. I love playing with it. I love fixing it for my less tech oriented relations. I just hate having to deal with trying to make money at it while earning hate and contempt from customers. The question is what else can I do? I have toyed with the idea of Law School off and on. Usually more off than on because it is not financially feasible. I know lawyers also draw hate and contempt. I have clear memories of my father getting crap from his clients. I also remember him telling some of then to take a hike if they wouldn't shut up and do what they were told. When my father did it, he usually got them to shut up and do what they were told. If I were to do that, I would get fired. Besides, I find the law and government interesting, if somewhat disturbing. It's just not in our price range right now. However, Laura is looking to start a business. It could well tank like many businesses do. However, if it does well enough, I may be able to go back to school. Maybe even law school. We'll just have to see.