But it has been close. It rained for almost three weeks before I left Texas. I was gone for 3 weeks, but was told it rained while I was gone. Then it rained for most of the last two weeks. I was told Texas was hot and dry, not overcast, humid, and wet. Fortunately, no flooding in our neighborhood.
Today was the first nice evening in a long time, so the whole family went out to the pool and splashed around (I know, I know, complain about the rain, then as soon as it dries out, head to the pool-irony is ironic, don't you think).
Number 2 child is walking and almost talking. Now if we can get Number 1 son potty trained, life would be really good.
Looking forward to a motorcycle ride this weekend if the weather holds.
2007/07/06
2007/06/20
Surfing for the first time
This weekend I decided I should try surfing (since I am in SoCal).
Results after 2.5 hours (including lesson and freeplay)
-jammed big toe (left foot)
-gigantic deep blister (right big toe)
-knuckle on right middle finger swollen by about 30% and too stiff to move for a day
-bruise on right leg
-deep deep muscle pains, particularly in legs
-sand and salt, lots of it, embedded almost everywhere
-about 3 seconds of time almost standing (just long enough to yell "Whoo-[splash!][gurgle][sputter])
-the distinct memory of being under the surfboard and getting pushed under the water by the wave
-real annoyance at a bunch of young punks doing sick tricks on shorty boards
-the determination to try this again (if I heal enough before I leave town)
To quote one Sergeant Roger Murtaugh of the LAPD, I am too old for this shit.
If you are trying to figure out just how funny this must have looked from the outside, just think back to my famous wipeouts from the early years of snowskiing (if you ever saw one).
Results after 2.5 hours (including lesson and freeplay)
-jammed big toe (left foot)
-gigantic deep blister (right big toe)
-knuckle on right middle finger swollen by about 30% and too stiff to move for a day
-bruise on right leg
-deep deep muscle pains, particularly in legs
-sand and salt, lots of it, embedded almost everywhere
-about 3 seconds of time almost standing (just long enough to yell "Whoo-[splash!][gurgle][sputter])
-the distinct memory of being under the surfboard and getting pushed under the water by the wave
-real annoyance at a bunch of young punks doing sick tricks on shorty boards
-the determination to try this again (if I heal enough before I leave town)
To quote one Sergeant Roger Murtaugh of the LAPD, I am too old for this shit.
If you are trying to figure out just how funny this must have looked from the outside, just think back to my famous wipeouts from the early years of snowskiing (if you ever saw one).
2007/06/13
Life in laptop hell....
Wondering why I haven't sent you an email lately?
Did you check this blog and find me strangely silent?
Okay, so I don't post updates that often, but I have another good excuse this time. My laptop went up in smoke. Large bolts of lightning shot out of every port. An eery green backlight glowed under the keys (note-I don't have a backlight). A strange little girls voice said "They're heeeerreee....."
So none of that exciting stuff really happened. In reality, my powerbook would not boot up. I thought at first the screen had died (since I did here a start up chime at least once, but nothing appeared on the screen and the backlight (normal white not eery ectoplasmic green) did not light up. I took it in to the Apple store, hooked it up to an external monitor, and found that it no longer booted at all. The "Genius" bar was obviously channeling the early Einstein (when he flunked out of high school and before he wrote about relativity). They seemed incapable of any serious troubleshooting. Since I was traveling, I did not have any technical references with me. Then one of the geniuses slid me a business card of a local independent mac repair guy.
I met with the guy, he tried some various start up options and finally, just for laughs, pulled out one of my ram upgrades. The stupid laptop then proceeded to boot off of his test cd. Grrrr...failure after only 6 months of operation. So one of my ram modules failed, but wait it gets worse (doesn't it always get worse with my stories). The hard drive had also failed (the computer is four years old, is on a lot, and has been moved through quit a few airports, xray machines, and car rides, so I guess I can't complain too much).
Bottom line: I have a new hard drive (80gb vs the original 60gb), but only 512mb of ram (down one ram chip). I have also lost most of the data on the drive. Only about a gb of data was salvageable before the old drive ceased communicating.
Fortunately, the biggest portion of the lost data was music (backed up on my iPod) and pictures (most are backed up on wife's computer). I only lost a few business files and pictures (although I might have some on an external drive at home or on some old cds). The rest of the data was applications, and I have most of the cdroms at home, so I should be good there.
Downside, I will have to limp along with a partially configured computer until I return home and then will have to spend a fair amount of time reinstalling and updating applications.
The fun never ends around here.
If you have a computer, buy a cheap external hard drive and copy everything to it. Update the backup as regularly as you can and you will not face the disaster I have been through this week.
Did you check this blog and find me strangely silent?
Okay, so I don't post updates that often, but I have another good excuse this time. My laptop went up in smoke. Large bolts of lightning shot out of every port. An eery green backlight glowed under the keys (note-I don't have a backlight). A strange little girls voice said "They're heeeerreee....."
So none of that exciting stuff really happened. In reality, my powerbook would not boot up. I thought at first the screen had died (since I did here a start up chime at least once, but nothing appeared on the screen and the backlight (normal white not eery ectoplasmic green) did not light up. I took it in to the Apple store, hooked it up to an external monitor, and found that it no longer booted at all. The "Genius" bar was obviously channeling the early Einstein (when he flunked out of high school and before he wrote about relativity). They seemed incapable of any serious troubleshooting. Since I was traveling, I did not have any technical references with me. Then one of the geniuses slid me a business card of a local independent mac repair guy.
I met with the guy, he tried some various start up options and finally, just for laughs, pulled out one of my ram upgrades. The stupid laptop then proceeded to boot off of his test cd. Grrrr...failure after only 6 months of operation. So one of my ram modules failed, but wait it gets worse (doesn't it always get worse with my stories). The hard drive had also failed (the computer is four years old, is on a lot, and has been moved through quit a few airports, xray machines, and car rides, so I guess I can't complain too much).
Bottom line: I have a new hard drive (80gb vs the original 60gb), but only 512mb of ram (down one ram chip). I have also lost most of the data on the drive. Only about a gb of data was salvageable before the old drive ceased communicating.
Fortunately, the biggest portion of the lost data was music (backed up on my iPod) and pictures (most are backed up on wife's computer). I only lost a few business files and pictures (although I might have some on an external drive at home or on some old cds). The rest of the data was applications, and I have most of the cdroms at home, so I should be good there.
Downside, I will have to limp along with a partially configured computer until I return home and then will have to spend a fair amount of time reinstalling and updating applications.
The fun never ends around here.
If you have a computer, buy a cheap external hard drive and copy everything to it. Update the backup as regularly as you can and you will not face the disaster I have been through this week.
2007/06/05
A late Memorial day post
I have decided to start a tradition for this blog. I will post a poem or something each Memorial day for my fallen brothers and sisters. This year's poem is easy. You all know it. Whisper the words along with me if you will. And remember to say you are sorry to your mother for causing her so much worry and grief...
Flanders Fields
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
—By John McCrae
Happy Memorial Day 2007.
Flanders Fields
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
—By John McCrae
Happy Memorial Day 2007.
2007/04/26
One degree of separation from VA Tech Shootings
I was reading CNN today (well it's better than watching it) and I found out that I know one of the engineering faculty members at Virginia Tech. It was quite a shock. I was obviously saddened to hear about the massacre, but it was in an impersonal way. In fact, after the first day, I was a little sick of the story (after all, the media did not have anything new to add, so I was tired of hearing the repeated story). It seemed that all other news stopped (even though the insurgents were lighting up Iraq last week). Then I read this article and I see the name of my design professor from UIC. Apparently, he moved to Virginia Tech in 2004 (long after I last had contact with him). Still, the last thing you expect in such a situation is to know anyone involved with it. I also recently found out some co-workers are Virginia Tech alumni.
Life is weird.
Go Hokies (never even heard of their mascot before the shootings, probably never forget the name now....).
Link to CNN blog post
Life is weird.
Go Hokies (never even heard of their mascot before the shootings, probably never forget the name now....).
2007/04/19
USMC Rules for Gunfighting
At a friend's request, I have posted the USMC Rules for Gunfighting. May you never need them, but if you do wind up at the OK Corral, these are a good place to start... NOTE: These rules were posted at Military.com. I can't find the original page, so if you have the link, leave it in the comments and I will update the posting...
1. Bring a gun. Preferably, bring at least two guns. Bring all of your friends who have guns.
2. Anything worth shooting is worth shooting twice. Ammo is cheap. Your life is expensive.
3. Only hits count. The only thing worse than a miss is a slow miss.
4. If your shooting stance is good, you're probably not moving fast enough nor using cover correctly.
5. Move away from your attacker. Distance is your friend. (Lateral and diagonal movement are preferred.)
6. If you can choose what to bring to a gunfight, bring a long gun and a friend with a long gun.
7. In ten years nobody will remember the details of caliber, stance, or tactics. They will only remember who lived.
8. If you are not shooting, you should be communicating, reloading, and running.
9. Accuracy is relative: most combat shooting standards will be more dependent on "pucker factor" than the inherent accuracy of the gun.
9.5 Use a gun that works EVERY TIME.
10. Someday someone may kill you with your own gun, but they should have to beat you to death with it because it is empty.
11. Always cheat; always win. The only unfair fight is the one you lose.
12. Have a plan.
13. Have a back-up plan, because the first one won't work.
14. Use cover or concealment as much as possible.
15. Flank your adversary when possible. Protect yours.
16. Don't drop your guard.
17. Always tactical load and threat scan 360 degrees.
18. Watch their hands. Hands kill. (In God we trust. Everyone else, keep your hands where I can see them).
19. Decide to be aggressive ENOUGH, quickly ENOUGH.
20. The faster you finish the fight, the less shot you will get.
21. Be polite. Be professional. But, have a plan to kill everyone you meet.
22. Be courteous to everyone, friendly to no one.
23. Your number one Option for Personal Security is a lifelong commitment to avoidance, deterrence, and de-escalation.
24. Do not attend a gunfight with a handgun, the caliber of which does not start with a ".4"
1. Bring a gun. Preferably, bring at least two guns. Bring all of your friends who have guns.
2. Anything worth shooting is worth shooting twice. Ammo is cheap. Your life is expensive.
3. Only hits count. The only thing worse than a miss is a slow miss.
4. If your shooting stance is good, you're probably not moving fast enough nor using cover correctly.
5. Move away from your attacker. Distance is your friend. (Lateral and diagonal movement are preferred.)
6. If you can choose what to bring to a gunfight, bring a long gun and a friend with a long gun.
7. In ten years nobody will remember the details of caliber, stance, or tactics. They will only remember who lived.
8. If you are not shooting, you should be communicating, reloading, and running.
9. Accuracy is relative: most combat shooting standards will be more dependent on "pucker factor" than the inherent accuracy of the gun.
9.5 Use a gun that works EVERY TIME.
10. Someday someone may kill you with your own gun, but they should have to beat you to death with it because it is empty.
11. Always cheat; always win. The only unfair fight is the one you lose.
12. Have a plan.
13. Have a back-up plan, because the first one won't work.
14. Use cover or concealment as much as possible.
15. Flank your adversary when possible. Protect yours.
16. Don't drop your guard.
17. Always tactical load and threat scan 360 degrees.
18. Watch their hands. Hands kill. (In God we trust. Everyone else, keep your hands where I can see them).
19. Decide to be aggressive ENOUGH, quickly ENOUGH.
20. The faster you finish the fight, the less shot you will get.
21. Be polite. Be professional. But, have a plan to kill everyone you meet.
22. Be courteous to everyone, friendly to no one.
23. Your number one Option for Personal Security is a lifelong commitment to avoidance, deterrence, and de-escalation.
24. Do not attend a gunfight with a handgun, the caliber of which does not start with a ".4"
2007/03/31
Man, have I been slacking off...
Sure, I have a blog, where did I leave that thing, it's around here somewhere....
Okay, okay, so I don't really write prolifically. At least I post once in a while.
Here are some updates:
It was warm enough new year's day to go for a motorcycle ride, so I did. I meant to post that to piss off my motorcycle riding readership in the cold northlands.
We were supposed to go see STS-117, the next space shuttle mission lift off from KSC. It was going to be a nice trip-the wife has not seen a shuttle launch in person yet, my 2 year old son might be just at the right age to enjoy that much fire and noise (or else I would be having surgery to remove a small child from my neck), and there would be time for the usual Orlando activities as well as visiting with some old friends. Alas, Thor, God of Thunder intervened and laid waste to the External Tank with a mighty blast of hail. Now, with the shuttle launch tbd (the last news was NASA decided not to make a decision until next month on when they might launch....grrrrrr), tax bills coming due, and other obligations on the calender, our trip may not happen this year. Too bad, cause I actually know one of the guys on the crew and wouldn't mind seeing him take a ride to orbit again.
The kids are 2 and 1, so life is ground hog day--get up, get kids ready for daycare, drive to daycare, drive to work, work, drive to daycare, drive home, eat, get kids ready for bed, fall asleep on floor of son's bedroom, stagger to own bed, wake up to screaming baby, hand in bottle, stagger back to bed, move son, who is now in my spot, move cat that has jumped up in place of son, fall back into bed, get up, get kids ready.....
We have all been sick, but fortunately not all at once. Lots of colds, one almost flu/strep throat thing, some ear infections, etc. Kids are biohazards.
I turned 36. Ugh. Felt like over the hill last year, can't wait to see what this feels like in another six months. Love getting older.
South Park has been on for 10 years???? They must be stuck in some sort of endless loop, because the kids haven't aged or changed grades in quite some time (hmmm-the future of tv-all cartoons-actors are never seen and so only have to sound plausible and not look plausible-screw reality tv, this is the real low budget winner). My favorite episode is probably still the undead episode (first season?) where Kenny was embalmed with Worcestershire sauce and turns into a flesh eating zombie (or pinkeye as it is known in the medical community). Actually, I guess it was episode 107 of the first season and it was called Pinkeye. And to my friends that played way too much warcraft (you know who you are), please watch Episode 1008, Make Love, Not Warcraft and take it's lesson to heart.
Iran started holding hostages again. Happy days are here again. Feels just like my childhood somehow.
Still no signs of intelligent life on Earth....
Okay, okay, so I don't really write prolifically. At least I post once in a while.
Here are some updates:
It was warm enough new year's day to go for a motorcycle ride, so I did. I meant to post that to piss off my motorcycle riding readership in the cold northlands.
We were supposed to go see STS-117, the next space shuttle mission lift off from KSC. It was going to be a nice trip-the wife has not seen a shuttle launch in person yet, my 2 year old son might be just at the right age to enjoy that much fire and noise (or else I would be having surgery to remove a small child from my neck), and there would be time for the usual Orlando activities as well as visiting with some old friends. Alas, Thor, God of Thunder intervened and laid waste to the External Tank with a mighty blast of hail. Now, with the shuttle launch tbd (the last news was NASA decided not to make a decision until next month on when they might launch....grrrrrr), tax bills coming due, and other obligations on the calender, our trip may not happen this year. Too bad, cause I actually know one of the guys on the crew and wouldn't mind seeing him take a ride to orbit again.
The kids are 2 and 1, so life is ground hog day--get up, get kids ready for daycare, drive to daycare, drive to work, work, drive to daycare, drive home, eat, get kids ready for bed, fall asleep on floor of son's bedroom, stagger to own bed, wake up to screaming baby, hand in bottle, stagger back to bed, move son, who is now in my spot, move cat that has jumped up in place of son, fall back into bed, get up, get kids ready.....
We have all been sick, but fortunately not all at once. Lots of colds, one almost flu/strep throat thing, some ear infections, etc. Kids are biohazards.
I turned 36. Ugh. Felt like over the hill last year, can't wait to see what this feels like in another six months. Love getting older.
South Park has been on for 10 years???? They must be stuck in some sort of endless loop, because the kids haven't aged or changed grades in quite some time (hmmm-the future of tv-all cartoons-actors are never seen and so only have to sound plausible and not look plausible-screw reality tv, this is the real low budget winner). My favorite episode is probably still the undead episode (first season?) where Kenny was embalmed with Worcestershire sauce and turns into a flesh eating zombie (or pinkeye as it is known in the medical community). Actually, I guess it was episode 107 of the first season and it was called Pinkeye. And to my friends that played way too much warcraft (you know who you are), please watch Episode 1008, Make Love, Not Warcraft and take it's lesson to heart.
Iran started holding hostages again. Happy days are here again. Feels just like my childhood somehow.
Still no signs of intelligent life on Earth....
2006/11/30
Too tired to post for several months
Where have I been the last few months?
Well, I have been busy in the real world and forgot to maintain my virtual presence.
Short summary:
Kids have been working us hard-middle of the night wakeups, the two year old showing up in the bed sometime during the night, resistance to going to bed-in other words, we are spending lots of energy and getting little rest.
Work has kept me busy-lots of 6 day weeks. Lots of 0-dark-30 wake ups to get in by 0600. Contributing to the aforementioned lack of sleep.
School has kept me busy too-foolishly taking another grad class in engineering. When will I learn to stop learning and have some fun?
Shorter summary: after the kids go to bed, I collapse, then get up and go to work, then pick up kids, then try to get kids to bed, start over.
Well, I have been busy in the real world and forgot to maintain my virtual presence.
Short summary:
Kids have been working us hard-middle of the night wakeups, the two year old showing up in the bed sometime during the night, resistance to going to bed-in other words, we are spending lots of energy and getting little rest.
Work has kept me busy-lots of 6 day weeks. Lots of 0-dark-30 wake ups to get in by 0600. Contributing to the aforementioned lack of sleep.
School has kept me busy too-foolishly taking another grad class in engineering. When will I learn to stop learning and have some fun?
Shorter summary: after the kids go to bed, I collapse, then get up and go to work, then pick up kids, then try to get kids to bed, start over.
Send a post card to our troops
It's the winter holiday season, which is a hard time for people to be away from home. It's even harder if you are sitting somewhere in the middle of a war zone, with bombs going off, people trying to kill you, friends getting wounded or killed, etc. Send a post card to one of our troops. It's easy and it's quick. Select other for the message content and type in your own words rather than using the precanned messages on the site. In case the link above is not working, here is the URL again: http://www.letssaythanks.com/
2006/08/22
Stolen motorcycle update
About a week ago, the insurance company transferred ownership of my old bike to Argo Cycles in New Hampshire (http://www.argocycles.com). I have put a link to the picutes of the bike in the title, but I will add a photo here as well. The bike was stock (as shown in the previous post), but has been repainted and chromed. They also installed low profile turn signals, removed the old plastic fender in the rear and apparently put in some custom horns.
2006/08/08
Sometimes there is a little justice
Flash back to my pre-blogging, pre-kids, pre-marriage days. It is 2002 and I just bought a CBR954RR in black/silver/white. Very cool looking, very fast liter class sport bike. Suddenly, going to work wasn't so bad, because I was going to do it at 100+ mph, feeling like it was 60 mph because the ride was so smooth. If you can love a machine, then that bike was loved.
-----
Flash forward two years and I am posting this information around work and by email:
Some bastards stole my motorcycle. I doubt any of you will come across this bike, but if any of you should see it, give me a call. 2002 Honda CBR954RR, CT Plate: 743683
• Picture is not my bike, but is the same model, year, colors.
• Distinguishing features: Frame sliders mounted on the frame near the engine and on the rear swing arm.
• Stolen from driveway on Rood Avenue, Windsor, CT sometime between 2000hrs on 10 JUNE and 1400hrs on 11 JUNE
-----
Flash forward two more years. I have been paid by my insurance. I have purchased a nice but less capable replacement bike. I am somewhat unhappy about it, but what can you do? I have two kids and need to pay some bills, so I can't afford an exact replacement anytime soon. I was recently telling this story to a coworker who also had a bike stolen. Yesterday, I get a call from the Windsor police department. Some dude was pulled over by the state police in Connecticut on my old bike. He was arrested and the bike was recovered. Unfortunately, the insurance now owns it and it is against their policy to sell vehicles back to the former owners. Here is the real kicker. I called the body shop that is holding the bike. It is in immaculate condition, has had a new paint job, custom wheels, etc, the shop owner estimated ~$2000 worth of work. So this asshole who may have either stolen my bike or possibly purchased it knowing that it was stolen sank a pile of cash into the bike and is now cooling his heels in jail. There is a little justice in the world, but not much. I think I would have been happier if all they found was pieces of the frame with the VIN on it. The idea that someone else in Connecticut was riding my bike, customizing it, enjoying the road just makes it all worse somehow.
Longing for the days when they would hang a man for stealing a horse.....
2006/07/13
Do Not Follow This Link
I haven't been posting because I have been hunting zombies in Malton. Now I am (un)dead (for the second time) and all I can saw is Mrh and Graagh! Don't start playing this game. You have been warned.
2006/07/03
Real Pizza in Texas
This may not be a big deal to you, unless you grew up in Chicago and then left for other parts of the country. Nobody else's pizza ever tasts right. And most places insist on cutting pizza's into pie shaped slices, which is okay if the pizza is small, but makes them unwieldy if they are large. Most places in Chicago cut regular (non-deep dish) pizza's into square shaped pieces. This makes them small and easy to manage. I finally found a place in Texas that knows how to make real pizzas. How? Well, it turns out they are from Chicago, that's how. Enter Little Joe's Famous Chicago Pizza and Restaurante. Now I never heard of them before, so I don't know how famous they really are, but their menu states they originated on 63rd street and have locations in Tinley Park and New Lennox (following the exodus out of the city no doubt). When we opened up the box, I immediately declared that it looked like real pizza. The taste wasn't too bad. The sauce was a little mild for my preferences, but otherwise everything else was much better than any other local pizza joint.
We can now survive in Texas indefinitely.
We can now survive in Texas indefinitely.
2006/06/28
Back on four wheels (at least sometimes)
I finally bought a car. It is a black 2006 Mazda3 s touring 5 door. Here is some tech data:
I have only had it two days, but so far, I like it. I got the 5 speed manual because I always wanted one, but never owned one. It is pretty fun. I am not real skilled with first gear (seem to keep lighting up the tires). Low speed is the hardest part. I am getting the hang of it. Riding a motorcycle no doubt helped a little, but the body mechanics are different (shifting with my hand and clutching with my foot instead of the other way around. Different hand too!).
Anyway, if you are on a Texas highway and something small, loud, and black screams by your flank, I apologize in advance for spilling your coffee.
2006/05/14
Sold!
Finally, some good news. The Connecticut house has sold. It is now someone else's moneypit. I wish them the best of luck and hope nothing breaks while they own it, but let's face it, it is a 50 year old house built using tecnologies that hadn't changed too much in the 50 years preceding it's construction. If I ever have to buy a house again, it will be the (que tv announcer voice) "The Home of the Future". Automation built in from the start, cat 5, coax, phone and any other connections built in. Robot vacuum cleaners (hmmm-should get one now since we do not have a dog).
Side note-I now have to go spend some of the equity on a car. My target specs are 200-300 horsepower, turbo or super charged, all wheel drive, stick shift, 4 wheels, at least 2 doors and at least 4 seats and a trunk. My target price is less than $20000. This will be a tricky optimization problem, as I would prefer to buy new. I may need to reduce my target horsepower and I may have to drop all wheel drive from the specs as well. I hate not getting everything I want.
Side note-I now have to go spend some of the equity on a car. My target specs are 200-300 horsepower, turbo or super charged, all wheel drive, stick shift, 4 wheels, at least 2 doors and at least 4 seats and a trunk. My target price is less than $20000. This will be a tricky optimization problem, as I would prefer to buy new. I may need to reduce my target horsepower and I may have to drop all wheel drive from the specs as well. I hate not getting everything I want.
2006/04/30
Good news, bad news
Well, the good news is I made it back to Chicago for some good pizza and time with my family. I even met an aunt that I had last seen in the 1980s. The bad news is we all got together to bury my favorite uncle. I am getting tired of carrying coffins. That's twice in less than 6 months. Heading back out of town tomorrow. I resolve to come back again for a happy event.
2006/02/24
There has to be some good news in this guy's life
If you have read any of this stuff, you would think all I do is move from one disaster to another. That nothing good is happening at all. Well, it has been a rough few months, but here is some good news:
-Job is going reasonably well and the location is interesting and entertaining from time to time (if you like loud military jets-I do-we call it the sound of freedom).
-My son started walking at the end of January. He still likes being carried around, but he is also starting to walk on his own. I sense some relief on the horizon for sore arms, neck and back.
-My wife is not pregnant anymore. She gave birth to our daughter, who is sound asleep on my lap as a I type this. New borns are the tiniest humans you will ever see. She is smaller and lighter than our cats and loves to curl up in a ball in your arms.
The only bad thing this week is the weather is cold enough to make me want to skip riding my motorcycle. I thought Texas was supposed to be warm, dammit!
-Job is going reasonably well and the location is interesting and entertaining from time to time (if you like loud military jets-I do-we call it the sound of freedom).
-My son started walking at the end of January. He still likes being carried around, but he is also starting to walk on his own. I sense some relief on the horizon for sore arms, neck and back.
-My wife is not pregnant anymore. She gave birth to our daughter, who is sound asleep on my lap as a I type this. New borns are the tiniest humans you will ever see. She is smaller and lighter than our cats and loves to curl up in a ball in your arms.
The only bad thing this week is the weather is cold enough to make me want to skip riding my motorcycle. I thought Texas was supposed to be warm, dammit!
2006/01/27
Goodbye, Dad
So where were we? Oh yeah, the toilet had exploded on 12 DEC 2005. Shortly after attempting to mitigate the flooding coming out of the bathroom (if you have recently moved, you have lots of cardboard boxes, which make great carpet runner to cover up wet, shit soaked carpeting on a temporary basis), I called the property management hotline and left a scathing message. I thne returned to the computer room to attempt to set up the wireless network once more. Just as I got there the phone rang. An old friend of the family was on the phone and asked how I was doing. I was about to relay the story of the toilet, when she interrupted me and said my dad was in the hospital. The first thing I thought was car accident, but instead I was told he was sick all weekend and went into the hospital that morning. He was apparently in the ICU and getting blood transfusions due to internal bleeding. Mom's cell phone was dead and there wasn't a phone in the room, so the family friend was tasked with tracking me down.
Long pause as brain readjusts to the change in reality.
Thanks to the internet and the entire US government-industry partnership in aerospace, I was able to procure a ticket back home to Chicago leaving at 0630 the next morning. Spent the next little while packing, emailing boss and coworkers and worrying without useful data. Emailed my mom to let her know I was heading into town. Emailed my network of Chicago based friends to let them know what was happening. Worried but had no data to either calm myself or confirm my worries. Got a couple of hours of sleep, then drove to the airport.
Side note ot airports everywhere: If you are open for business (airplanes taking off and landing), your coffee and food vendors should be open for business as well. I do not function well on 2 hours sleep with no coffee. People near me are at risk of getting their heads chopped off with a single blow from the edge of my hand. This is the real national security issue facing our air transport system today.
Back to me having a bad day. Normally, I do not tend to sleep well on airplanes or in cars. I just have fundamental trust issues when someone else is in control of the vehicle. If you have this problem, may I suggest avoiding all but a couple of hours sleep and skipping caffeine intake for the day? I was unconcious for most of the flight.
Got to Chi-town, picked up the rental car, drove at best speed out to the family office where my mom was waiting (difficult in morning rush hour traffic). More disturbing news. Dad had received on the order of 4-5 units of blood over night. He was still unconcious. One of his doctor's phoned my mom and told her to rescind her request for extraordinary measures. Apparently, Dad had been diagnosed with cirrhosis of liver and the doctor said 5 years was a great run. No doctor had seen fit to mention this to my mom over the last 5 years. It is amazing how a portion of your brain can sit and be extremely angry, but also totally compartmentalized so you can function normally.
So we make the journey to the hospital and I get to see my Dad for the first time in several months. It's bad. It's about the worst thing I have ever seen. Dad looked already dead. He was plugged into about 3 iv pumps for different drugs as well as saline solution, all aimed at keeping his blood pressure up high enough to maintain life. He had a tube coming out of his throat that was sucking blood out of his stomach and dumping it into a small bucket (I am sure there is a fancy medical term for this, but let's just call it a bucket of blood). It was full. They had him on a respirator to help him breathe. It was set for about 14 breaths per minute and it registered about 28, so some part of Dad was still alive and trying to breath on his own, but it was very labored. His skin was like ice and his limbs were stiff from the effects of the blood pressure medication. Heart rate was low (below 60). Blood pressure kept dropping and they tried to up the dosage on the drugs, but they were near the maximum dosage. I never saw a single one of his doctors, or any doctor for that matter. I guess those fuckers were playing golf or something and did not have time to visit one of their oldest patients as he lay dying. Doctors suck. They are dead to me.
We stayed with him for a few hours. Do you know that nurses seem to be incapable of saying that someone is dying? They used some really stupid euphemisms. His soul is trying to go to heaven. Huh? Are we in a hospital or a church? Is heaven on the 8th floor near radiology? What the hell is wrong with these people? This crap is not comforting. All we needed was a straight answer (yes, he is dying, no there is no hope, I am sorry). That way we could get our heads around the problem, accept it and try to deal with the emotional fallout. Eventually, we left for a while. It was obvious he was dying, so we made arrangements with a funeral home and a church. Started calling relatives to get them ready, etc. We remembered to eat, which was good. Then we went back to the hospital for the death watch.
I have stood watches on a warship at sea. I have sat in a hospital awaiting the birth of a child (and watched and helped out as much as a man can in such circumstances). I have waited on the results of job interviews and school exams. Nothing compares to waiting for someone you love to die while knowing there is nothing left to do but watch. Dad never regained conciousness. Part of me is still convinced that his brain and mind were gone sometime the previous night. We asked the nurses to stop giving him the blood pressure medication. His blood pressure dropped so low that the automated sensor had trouble measuring it. His heart rate was getting so slow that the machine kept calling out a code that the nurses had to cancel. His breath rate dropped to the setting on the respirator. It seemed that was all that was keeping the body going. We asked the nurses to remove the respirator. They told us we had to speak to the chaplain. Apparently they do double duty as lawyers. It turned out we needed some sort of living will or durable power of attorney, which we did not have. Now, if any of those fucking doctor's had shown up, they could have written orders to remove the respirator, but it was now night time, so no doubt they were out having a few drinks somewhere instead of helping one of their patients. We were stunned. Dad was only hanging on because of the respirator. How much longer would we have to watch? All of the sudden, while we were arguing the insanity of the situation with the hospital chaplain, the nurse pointed to the screen and said he was gone. We all looked. Flatline. Just like on tv and in the movies. A straight line for the pulse sensor with an annoying extended beep. I almost expected to hear someone yell out "Charge paddles to 20, clear!". The nurse turned off the monitor and we left the room while the pulled out tubes and electrodes and everything else. After he was cleaned up, we went in and said goodbye. Then we filled out paperwork and went home.
The rest of the week went by in a blur. We waked him on 16 DEC 2006 and held his funeral on the 17th. I was a pall bearer, even though some told me that I was supposed to stand with my Mom. Somehow, I couldn't let others carry my Dad in my place. Since it was winter, we just delivered his coffin to the graveyard chapel. Too bloody cold to dig a grave. At least without heavy equipment. I stayed a few days to help out and then flew back to Texas.
I should mention that my pregnant wife came up with our 1 year old son to help me through the week after Dad died. Amazing what women will do for you.
I should also say that my best friend, known in this realm as Equalitist, stood by me through the death watch and through the week that followed. All of my friends came to the wake and funeral. Thank you all for your support.
I miss fighting with my Dad on the phone....
Long pause as brain readjusts to the change in reality.
Thanks to the internet and the entire US government-industry partnership in aerospace, I was able to procure a ticket back home to Chicago leaving at 0630 the next morning. Spent the next little while packing, emailing boss and coworkers and worrying without useful data. Emailed my mom to let her know I was heading into town. Emailed my network of Chicago based friends to let them know what was happening. Worried but had no data to either calm myself or confirm my worries. Got a couple of hours of sleep, then drove to the airport.
Side note ot airports everywhere: If you are open for business (airplanes taking off and landing), your coffee and food vendors should be open for business as well. I do not function well on 2 hours sleep with no coffee. People near me are at risk of getting their heads chopped off with a single blow from the edge of my hand. This is the real national security issue facing our air transport system today.
Back to me having a bad day. Normally, I do not tend to sleep well on airplanes or in cars. I just have fundamental trust issues when someone else is in control of the vehicle. If you have this problem, may I suggest avoiding all but a couple of hours sleep and skipping caffeine intake for the day? I was unconcious for most of the flight.
Got to Chi-town, picked up the rental car, drove at best speed out to the family office where my mom was waiting (difficult in morning rush hour traffic). More disturbing news. Dad had received on the order of 4-5 units of blood over night. He was still unconcious. One of his doctor's phoned my mom and told her to rescind her request for extraordinary measures. Apparently, Dad had been diagnosed with cirrhosis of liver and the doctor said 5 years was a great run. No doctor had seen fit to mention this to my mom over the last 5 years. It is amazing how a portion of your brain can sit and be extremely angry, but also totally compartmentalized so you can function normally.
So we make the journey to the hospital and I get to see my Dad for the first time in several months. It's bad. It's about the worst thing I have ever seen. Dad looked already dead. He was plugged into about 3 iv pumps for different drugs as well as saline solution, all aimed at keeping his blood pressure up high enough to maintain life. He had a tube coming out of his throat that was sucking blood out of his stomach and dumping it into a small bucket (I am sure there is a fancy medical term for this, but let's just call it a bucket of blood). It was full. They had him on a respirator to help him breathe. It was set for about 14 breaths per minute and it registered about 28, so some part of Dad was still alive and trying to breath on his own, but it was very labored. His skin was like ice and his limbs were stiff from the effects of the blood pressure medication. Heart rate was low (below 60). Blood pressure kept dropping and they tried to up the dosage on the drugs, but they were near the maximum dosage. I never saw a single one of his doctors, or any doctor for that matter. I guess those fuckers were playing golf or something and did not have time to visit one of their oldest patients as he lay dying. Doctors suck. They are dead to me.
We stayed with him for a few hours. Do you know that nurses seem to be incapable of saying that someone is dying? They used some really stupid euphemisms. His soul is trying to go to heaven. Huh? Are we in a hospital or a church? Is heaven on the 8th floor near radiology? What the hell is wrong with these people? This crap is not comforting. All we needed was a straight answer (yes, he is dying, no there is no hope, I am sorry). That way we could get our heads around the problem, accept it and try to deal with the emotional fallout. Eventually, we left for a while. It was obvious he was dying, so we made arrangements with a funeral home and a church. Started calling relatives to get them ready, etc. We remembered to eat, which was good. Then we went back to the hospital for the death watch.
I have stood watches on a warship at sea. I have sat in a hospital awaiting the birth of a child (and watched and helped out as much as a man can in such circumstances). I have waited on the results of job interviews and school exams. Nothing compares to waiting for someone you love to die while knowing there is nothing left to do but watch. Dad never regained conciousness. Part of me is still convinced that his brain and mind were gone sometime the previous night. We asked the nurses to stop giving him the blood pressure medication. His blood pressure dropped so low that the automated sensor had trouble measuring it. His heart rate was getting so slow that the machine kept calling out a code that the nurses had to cancel. His breath rate dropped to the setting on the respirator. It seemed that was all that was keeping the body going. We asked the nurses to remove the respirator. They told us we had to speak to the chaplain. Apparently they do double duty as lawyers. It turned out we needed some sort of living will or durable power of attorney, which we did not have. Now, if any of those fucking doctor's had shown up, they could have written orders to remove the respirator, but it was now night time, so no doubt they were out having a few drinks somewhere instead of helping one of their patients. We were stunned. Dad was only hanging on because of the respirator. How much longer would we have to watch? All of the sudden, while we were arguing the insanity of the situation with the hospital chaplain, the nurse pointed to the screen and said he was gone. We all looked. Flatline. Just like on tv and in the movies. A straight line for the pulse sensor with an annoying extended beep. I almost expected to hear someone yell out "Charge paddles to 20, clear!". The nurse turned off the monitor and we left the room while the pulled out tubes and electrodes and everything else. After he was cleaned up, we went in and said goodbye. Then we filled out paperwork and went home.
The rest of the week went by in a blur. We waked him on 16 DEC 2006 and held his funeral on the 17th. I was a pall bearer, even though some told me that I was supposed to stand with my Mom. Somehow, I couldn't let others carry my Dad in my place. Since it was winter, we just delivered his coffin to the graveyard chapel. Too bloody cold to dig a grave. At least without heavy equipment. I stayed a few days to help out and then flew back to Texas.
I should mention that my pregnant wife came up with our 1 year old son to help me through the week after Dad died. Amazing what women will do for you.
I should also say that my best friend, known in this realm as Equalitist, stood by me through the death watch and through the week that followed. All of my friends came to the wake and funeral. Thank you all for your support.
I miss fighting with my Dad on the phone....
2005/12/29
Thar she blows....
This is a story of how when life really sucks, it blows.
On or about 10 DEC 2005, my wife used our downstairs bathroom. When she hit the flush lever, the toilet bowl filled with water and failed to flush, followed quickly by a stream of water shooting out of the base of the toilet. I shut off the water supply and once the toilet bowl drained out onto the bathroom floor, the water stopped leaking. I mopped everything up, called the landlord to complain and closed the bathroom door. I would have put up the yellow crime scene tape, but I didn't have any on hand.
But wait there's more...
As you may have noticed, we just moved into this house and are still getting settled. There were no prior tenants, so we are discovering all of the new house problems. So, Monday, 12 DEC 2005 rolls around and we are busy hooking up the washer and dryer. Beyond a quick leak test on the washer, I did not do a test run. Monday night, I was upstairs messing with the computer setup, while my wife is running our first load of laundary. My wife screams something about water on the floor. I head back downstairs and find the carpet is soaked on the first floor and water is apparently coming out from under the bathroom door. I open the door and find brown water and raw sewage covering our bathroom floor, with evidence in the toiled bowl indicating it blew chunks all over the floor. An ironic twist. Laundary service is shut down and I start laying down cardboard to cover the wet carpet, since we have cats and a baby likely to crawl through the area.
It takes a few days, but final analysis is that the outside sewer line had become partially blocked. The upstairs shower and toilets probably had enough head pressure to push past the blockage, but the first floor toilet and washer did not, leading to our little weekend shit explosion.
Now I am sure you are thinking, how could things get worse for our intrepid heros? Wait for the next post. It may be a little while, because the wounds are still a little raw.
On or about 10 DEC 2005, my wife used our downstairs bathroom. When she hit the flush lever, the toilet bowl filled with water and failed to flush, followed quickly by a stream of water shooting out of the base of the toilet. I shut off the water supply and once the toilet bowl drained out onto the bathroom floor, the water stopped leaking. I mopped everything up, called the landlord to complain and closed the bathroom door. I would have put up the yellow crime scene tape, but I didn't have any on hand.
But wait there's more...
As you may have noticed, we just moved into this house and are still getting settled. There were no prior tenants, so we are discovering all of the new house problems. So, Monday, 12 DEC 2005 rolls around and we are busy hooking up the washer and dryer. Beyond a quick leak test on the washer, I did not do a test run. Monday night, I was upstairs messing with the computer setup, while my wife is running our first load of laundary. My wife screams something about water on the floor. I head back downstairs and find the carpet is soaked on the first floor and water is apparently coming out from under the bathroom door. I open the door and find brown water and raw sewage covering our bathroom floor, with evidence in the toiled bowl indicating it blew chunks all over the floor. An ironic twist. Laundary service is shut down and I start laying down cardboard to cover the wet carpet, since we have cats and a baby likely to crawl through the area.
It takes a few days, but final analysis is that the outside sewer line had become partially blocked. The upstairs shower and toilets probably had enough head pressure to push past the blockage, but the first floor toilet and washer did not, leading to our little weekend shit explosion.
Now I am sure you are thinking, how could things get worse for our intrepid heros? Wait for the next post. It may be a little while, because the wounds are still a little raw.
2005/12/07
I hate Allied Van Lines
This is the most frustrating household move I have ever made.
I arranged to have Allied Van Lines move my household goods to Texas. No problems.
The transportation costs were around $6400 but we move an entire house and the estimate was $6200. No problems.
Our goods were picked up on 19 November and did not make it to Fort Worth until 28 November (still within the 6-11 day window). No problems.
The driver did not call and tell us he had arrived. Instead, the goods went straight to storage at Allied's local warehouse. Problems begin.
The local warehouse did not call and tell us our furniture had been delivered. Additional charges are now accumulating unbeknownst to us. Problems are increasing in scope.
The still happy couple finish negotiating a lease on Wednesday, 30 November, taking their time, since they did not know their goods were in town. The couple calls the driver, who admits that he dropped the goods off at Allied on Monday. The couple calls Allied and are informed that no crews or trucks will be available until 06 December and that storage fees will be charged (no amount stated) for the entire time. Awareness of problems begins.
The not so happy couple contact the Hartford office on Friday to see what can be done about these storage charges, since they were ready to receive delivery. Hartford says too bad, so sad, you should have called us first. Couple is frustrated, but is only expecting to pay a few hundred dollars extra.
The soon to be extremely unhappy couple begin receiving phone calls on 05 November, reminding them of the 06 November delivery and informing them that $2400 in additional charges and fees must be paid or the goods would not be delivered. Many bad words were thought and stated out loud. Many many many bad words. The Hartford office was called but they were not responding to voicemail. Wife had a meltdown. Being concerned for the continued health of pregnant wife, husband folds and pays outrageous fees to Allied but vows to get lawyer. Hartford office now calling and apologizing but explain that the $2500 was actually discounted from $4000 in additional unestimated fees. Husband now vows to destroy Allied Van Lines by any and all legal means available.
WANTED: Hungry, ambitious member of the Texas state bar seeking to make a name and pile of money from a big company.
I arranged to have Allied Van Lines move my household goods to Texas. No problems.
The transportation costs were around $6400 but we move an entire house and the estimate was $6200. No problems.
Our goods were picked up on 19 November and did not make it to Fort Worth until 28 November (still within the 6-11 day window). No problems.
The driver did not call and tell us he had arrived. Instead, the goods went straight to storage at Allied's local warehouse. Problems begin.
The local warehouse did not call and tell us our furniture had been delivered. Additional charges are now accumulating unbeknownst to us. Problems are increasing in scope.
The still happy couple finish negotiating a lease on Wednesday, 30 November, taking their time, since they did not know their goods were in town. The couple calls the driver, who admits that he dropped the goods off at Allied on Monday. The couple calls Allied and are informed that no crews or trucks will be available until 06 December and that storage fees will be charged (no amount stated) for the entire time. Awareness of problems begins.
The not so happy couple contact the Hartford office on Friday to see what can be done about these storage charges, since they were ready to receive delivery. Hartford says too bad, so sad, you should have called us first. Couple is frustrated, but is only expecting to pay a few hundred dollars extra.
The soon to be extremely unhappy couple begin receiving phone calls on 05 November, reminding them of the 06 November delivery and informing them that $2400 in additional charges and fees must be paid or the goods would not be delivered. Many bad words were thought and stated out loud. Many many many bad words. The Hartford office was called but they were not responding to voicemail. Wife had a meltdown. Being concerned for the continued health of pregnant wife, husband folds and pays outrageous fees to Allied but vows to get lawyer. Hartford office now calling and apologizing but explain that the $2500 was actually discounted from $4000 in additional unestimated fees. Husband now vows to destroy Allied Van Lines by any and all legal means available.
WANTED: Hungry, ambitious member of the Texas state bar seeking to make a name and pile of money from a big company.
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