The Great Move of 2009

Well, we did it again. We moved from one side of the Mississippi to the other. This time east bound to the DC area from Hell's Half Acre in Texas. It took us 3 days. We passed through big portions of four states. The cats shed a lot of fur. The kids (two this time instead of one) took some years off our lives.

Some highlights:
-Cats seemed to find tiny places with good claw holds in which to hide. Fortunately, nature has provided a convenient hand hold on the scruff of the neck. Otherwise, we would have left them somewhere (under a hotel bed or under the back seat of the truck).
-Saw Memphis, TN and was seriously underwhelmed. Place needs an enhanced blast weapon (instead of an enhanced radiation weapon). Kim Jong-Il, this one is a freebie.
-Stopped at Graceland, but the price and the wait (more than the price) made it unattractive, so we did not see the Jungle Room or the cars or the Gold Records. We did briefly see the airplanes (not bad for the time, but pretty unimpressive today).
-Did not see the ghost of Elvis on Union Avenue, very disappointed.
-Stopped near Roanoke to check out the Smoky Mountain Brewery and Restaurant. Good stout, so-so food (okay for a pub).
-Spent the night in Kingsport, TN (never heard of it before). We stayed at the Jameson Inn, which was pet friendly, people friendly, and NOT selected due to whiskey preferences.
-Stopped at the Natural Bridge-one big hunk of rock. Got completely soaked in the rain, but the kids seemed to have fun.
-Have become fully ensconced in corporate apartment (Cats have registered grudging approval due to high cabinets that they can climb).

We plan to check out museums (okay, just the Udvar-Hazy center at Dulles) in between house hunting and daycare/school hunting (no licenses required and no bag limit-yeehaw).

T-2 days and counting

We are getting ready to move the wife, kids, and cats cross country to the DC area. Packers come tomorrow (not the ones from Green Bay). Movers come Saturday. Sunday we hit the road (on the road again...).

My temporary apartment is mostly set up.

Kids are starting to tweak like crackheads.

Wife is pretty stressed.

Cats are giving us dirty looks (they don't realize they are coming with, when they do, then the hating will really begin).

This explains my thought processes most days...

I am really starting to like the web comic XKCD. If you know me, then you will understand why I really like this particular edition.



Direct link to this XKCD page: http://xkcd.com/337/

It also meshes well with Rule #21 of the USMC Rules of Gunfighting: ""Be polite. Be professional. But, have a plan to kill everyone you meet."

UPDATED (again): All hail the frakin' hail!

Just had golf ball size hail hit here in Texas. I believe when they say that, that is meant as some sort of average hail size. Something much larger or much faster than that hit the rear window of my car and shattered it. Something else hit one of my rear view mirrors, cracked the plastic housing, and knocked the housing off the car. Will update with photos of horrendous damage in the morning when I have some light (and no rain).

Did I mention that I just had hail damage fixed on the car late last year?

Frakin' hail!

UPDATE: Now with pictures! It took about an hour to clean up the glass and water. I am glad I wasn't on the road with the kids, because glass shards covered the car seats and back seat area as well as the hatchback/trunk. My insurance company has mobilized a catastrophe team for the region. No rental cars until after 1430 local time. My car determined to be unsafe to drive until an adjuster can inspect in person. Guess I am on the motorcycle for a while today.

The place where my rear window used to be....


One of three spider web cracks in the windshield....


The roof of the car simulating the dark side of the moon....


UPDATE 2: Got the insurance appraisal. Initial damage estimate is $6200. Holy impact damage, Batman. All that from some falling iceballs. Frakin' hail. Car has been delivered to the body shop. There were about 20 cars parked on the grass. The owner's wife had to start working there just to keep up with the paper work. I heard they are hiring a huge number of paintless dent removal techs (if they can find them).

I am in San Diego

Busy doing stuff, so not really posting much. If you have never been here, check out these pictures:

http://picasaweb.google.com/spacer01/SanDiegoTrip

For those of you stuck in cold places, take heart. It is not sunny and 70-80 deg F here. It is only in the 50-60 deg F range and only sunny sometimes. Don't hate me.

Since I will be here for St. Patrick's day, I may head out to see what amateur hour looks like here.

If you like beer, go to the Coronado Brewing Company on Coronado Island-good beer and good food.

Go read xkcd now

Go to this web site and check out this web comic:

http://xkcd.com/

Then notice that there is a button that takes you back to to the very first drawing. Read them all obsessively. Do it now. Obey.

Messing around with 2 Dimensional Bar Codes

Check this out.  

Go get some 2D reader software and install it on your camera equipped smart phone.  One example is NeoReader.  

Next, use the software to scan a 2DBC (like 3DBB only one dimension less) and see what happens.  What?  You don't have any 2DBCs laying around?  Well try this one:

The software should have taken you to this web page.  The information store in the image above is actually my blog's URL: http://spacer1.blogspot.com

 

Pretty cool, eh?  If you add this design to various items, people can scan it and get the URL back.  The above image was created using a java tool from this web page.  Enjoy.

Pondering counterintelligence

I have recently started playing around with twitter.  I am only following a couple of people at the moment.  One of them recommended reading "Foreign Spies Are Serious.  Are We?" by Michelle Van Cleave.  He then recommended that after reading and thinking about this article, people should blog about it.  He wrote his post here: "Foreign Spies Make Recession Worse and Steal Part of Our Future."  Both individuals are highly experienced individuals with experience in the intelligence community.  Ms. Van Cleave was the head of the National Counterintelligence Executive (great site for some historical papers on counterintelligence, by the way) from 2003 to 2006.  She wrote a longer, more in depth case study on the same subject here.

I cannot lay claim to their level of experience or subject specific knowledge.  I only have access to open source information.  Here is my take:

-There have been some truly embarrassing CI failures over the last three decades (Ames, Hansen, Walker, et al).

-The threat has not changed, despite changes in geopolitics, wars, and economies (it may be more dangerous than before, but is certainly no safer).

-US counterintelligence is still decentralized and distributed (i.e., no single Federal agency in charge), with little apparent change in operating techniques (despite significant changes in technologies, real/potential enemies, etc).

I think this generally lines up with some of the items written in the articles and blogs mentioned above.  I do, however, have some differences of opinion.

-There seems to be a call to arms, as it were, to address this significant danger, before it is too late, etc.  I am convinced that we can and should do things better in every government endeavor-we are paying billions and billions of dollars every year.  We should get the best service or get our money back.  Since it is important to get it right and since it will be difficult to undo the bureaucracy that will inevitably result, we should move slowly.  Any serious threats are already damaging us today and are not likely to be instantly fixed.  So let us get this right on paper, get the supporting agencies and consumers to agree, program the money and the people, and then drive it home with the appropriate laws, Presidential orders and congressional mandates (rather than starting with the mandates and trying to work in the other direction).

-I am not convinced that technology transfer via espionage, violation of export controls, etc is as dangerous as advertised.  I take this position because I am an engineer (okay, a geek and a nerd, but I know some really crazy martial arts, so back off man).  Any nation capable of understanding and exploiting our technology would have gotten there anyway.  Espionage might accelerate things or it might not (knowing how a nuclear weapon is designed does not help if you do not have the materials, tools, and personnel).  Espionage might even work for us (we could feed false or misleading information causing our opponents to waste time and money-Strategic Missile Defense comes to mind).  

-Whether or not you agree with that assessment, you should realize that it is too late.  Much of our technology has already been exported voluntarily by the our companies.  Most large defense contractors have international operations whose goal is to sell US defense technology everywhere they are allowed to do it.  At least one (BAE) started as a foreign company and moved some operations into the US to tap into our huge budgets.  Many US technology companies routinely outsource manufacturing, coding, and tech support over seas to save money.  Many US companies have opened joint ventures in China and elsewhere (joint research ventures, joint manufacturing operations, etc).  I do not think you can protect your technology by hiding it.  I do think there are strategies.  One is to always advance.  Keep updating your tech, keep researching alternatives, do not put all of your eggs in one basket (so if one technology or system is compromised, you can "ground" it and fire up the alternate systems instead).  Another is to incorporate fool proofing or copy protection into your products and software.  This is not as easy as it sounds and is more of a delaying tactic (it forces your opponent to crack the code first-and they will crack it).

Anyway, that's my short rant on the subject.  Fire when ready, Gridley.

Happy 2009!

Happy 2009.  Nothing extraordinary going on.  I am alive and so are most of the people I care about.

Since I don't have much to say, let's go all traditional and hear from Robbie Burns instead (he of the hee-land lassies):

Auld Lang Syne

by

Robert Burns

Should auld acquaintance be forgot, 

And never brought to mind? 

Should auld acquaintance be forgot, 

And days o' auld lang syne.

Chorus

And for auld lang syne, my jo, 

For auld lang syne, 

We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, 

For auld lang syne,

And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp! 

And surely I'll be mine! 

And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, 

For auld lang syne. 

We twa hae run about the braes 

And pu'd the gowans fine; 

But we've wander'd mony a weary foot 

Sin auld lang syne. 

We twa hae paidl'd i' the burn, 

Frae mornin' sun till dine; 

But seas between us braid hae roar'd 

Sin auld lang syne. 

And there's a hand, my trusty fiere! 

And gie's a hand o' thine! 

And we'll tak a right guid willy waught, 

For auld lang syne.

Jingle Bells

Jingle Bells

Batman Smells

Robin laid an egg

Batmobile got a flat 

and Joker got away, hey!

Sorry for the low blog output

But I was kidnapped by aliens.  Amazon women from the moon.  I am being completely honest.

In any case, I finally published a blog entry on the Great Gallbladder Incident of '08 (see post entitled Fun With Gallstones).

Best new term I have seen lately:  Deja Moo, the strange sensation that you have heard all this bullshit before.

Best description of the Mumbai attack from John Oliver on the Daily Show on 01DEC2008: "the work of some unbelievable motherfuckers working in tandem with giant assholes"  See it all here: http://www.thedailyshow.com/video/index.jhtml?videoId=210920&title=mumbai-tragedy

Nothing much else going on right now.  Will come up with something to write about soon.

Happy Armistice Day

Part of my blog tradition-a military poem.  This one is by Kipling.  Not the world's greatest poet, in my opinion, and yet when he writes about military subjects, it always strikes a chord with me.  Interesting how problems seen in 1890 are similar to problems seen decades later in another land.

Tommy

by Rudyard Kipling, 1890

I went into a public-'ouse to get a pint o' beer,

The publican 'e up an' sez, "We serve no red-coats here."

The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die,

I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I:

    O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, go away";

    But it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play,

    The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,

    O it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play.

 

I went into a theatre as sober as could be,

They gave a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none for me;

They sent me to the gallery or round the music-'alls,

But when it comes to fightin', Lord! they'll shove me in the stalls!

    For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, wait outside";

    But it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide,

    The troopship's on the tide, my boys, the troopship's on the tide,

    O it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide.

 

Yes, makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while you sleep

Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap;

An' hustlin' drunken soldiers when they're goin' large a bit

Is five times better business than paradin' in full kit.

    Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, 'ow's yer soul?"

    But it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll,

    The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,

    O it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll.

 

We aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no blackguards too,

But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;

An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints,

Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints;

    While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, fall be'ind",

    But it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind,

    There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,

    O it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind.

 

You talk o' better food for us, an' schools, an' fires, an' all:

We'll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.

Don't mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face

The Widow's Uniform is not the soldier-man's disgrace.

    For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute!"

    But it's "Saviour of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot;

    An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please;

    An' Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool -- you bet that Tommy sees!

Best Wall Street picture I have seen lately

Sorry for the disturbing lack of posts.  A bunch of stuff has happened lately (more on that in other posts).  I got this from my kind spirited and always forgiving mother.  Her sympathy for those troubled CEO's on Wall Street knows no limits.

Fun with gallstones

... or how not to enjoy a business trip.

One morning, about two weeks ago, I woke up in a hotel room with incredible abdominal pain (or at least more than I had ever experienced).  No, I didn't wake up in a tub of ice missing a kidney.  It was about 0230 and I thought my appendix had burst.  I called the front desk to see if they had a doctor or paramedic in the hotel, but of course, that only exists in movies or on TV.  I was told the nearest hospital was more than 20 minutes of driving.  I did not think I could make that drive in my condition, so I opted for the ambulance ride.

The ambulance drivers showed up a while later (seemed like eternity, but my subjective clock was not running correctly at the time).  They were volunteers (their only identification was a t-shirt and a gurney).  They seemed to be capable of putting me on the stretcher and into the ambulance (without dropping me), but that seemed to be where their training stopped.  They had difficulty taking my blood pressure and apparently were not allowed to dispense medications.  Regardless, after a period of time that was less than the infinity but still seemed long, we arrived at the hospital.

The ER folks proceeded to ask me questions.  Silly ones, like "What's your name?"  To which I answered "AaaarrrgggghhhFuckFuckFuckGiveMeDrugsssssss!!!!!"  Eventually, they determined that my abdomen hurt, that it had never hurt like this before, that there was no blood in my stool (don't ask about how they got the sample), and that if they jammed their fingers up under my rib cage on the right side, they could make it hurt more.  They then told me I needed an ultrasound, but that I would have to wait until 0700 (eons in the future).  So they gave me morphine so I would stop scaring the other patients.  Morphine sucks, I can't see how people get addicted to it.  It did, however, knock me out, which meant I wasn't around for the pain.

After 0700, they made me take off my pants (this is part of hospital culture-there is no reason for it most times, I think they just like making people feel uncomfortable) and then wheeled me to the ultrasound tech.  Said technician took lot's of pictures of my belly, but refused to discuss what was observed (apparently I was not cleared to know about my insides-only a strange doctor that I had yet to meet could know what she found).

Eventually, a doctor appeared and told me I had acute cholecystitis (i.e. gallbladder inflamed due to gallstones).  He wanted to get a surgeon and operate that day.  I declined the offer, as I was no longer in pain and wanted to get this done at home.  He seemed convinced that I would die on the way, but gave me some percocet (percocet does not suck) and let me go, with the caution that I should not eat anything until I had surgery.  This proved impossible, so I avoided anything with lots of fat and all greasy foods.  Instead of dying, I drove 50 miles, got on an airplane and flew back home.  Percocet is really good for sleeping on an airplane.  Really good.

Fast forward 2 days:  I met with my personal Doc.  He agreed that this gallbladder was no longer worth the price of keeping it and recommended surgery.  I agreed to meet with a surgeon.  The Doc said stay away from fatty foods, greasy foods, and alcohol.  I told him I was not familiar with that diet and did not realize it would support human life.  I tried it anyway.

Fast forward a week:  I met with the surgeon and he agreed (surprise!) that surgery was the correct solution.  The next available date was about two weeks in the future.  

Fast forward two weeks:  After eating stuff I don't like and not eating stuff I do like, I finally had surgery.  I think I may have lost more than ten pounds, between the change in diet and the gallbladder that was removed.  I am now free to return to killing myself with food and beer.  

After about five days, I was back at work and not really in any pain.  After another couple of weeks, I was cleared to attempt to kill myself with exercise and give myself a hernia by picking up kids again.

Conclusion:  Don't get gallstones, but if your liver and gallbladder will not cooperate, get the surgery and go back to fun food.

Seven years later

It is amazing to me that 7 years have gone by since the towers fell, the Pentagon was hit, and Flight 93 fell to glory.  I have gotten married, had kids, changed jobs, moved out of the first house we owned and I still haven't had the privilege of kicking Usama Bin Laden hard in the nuts.

What is the obvious thing to write about?  Why answering the first question anyone asks, where were you on Der Tag?

It was a Tuesday morning.  I was at work in a meeting dealing with a technical issue that seemed incredibly important at the time.  No one came and told us anything, but when we walked out of the meeting, there were TVs everywhere (little personal black and white portables).  And people were staring at them in shock.  I remember sitting at my desk and trying to get to CNN's web page, but the network was dead slow.  I don't think we got much work done that day.  After staring in disbelief at the developing story, I eventually got hungry, so I went out to grab some lunch and pick up the engagement ring for my then girlfriend, soon to be fiance (and now the mother of my immortality).  When I got back to work, I couldn't get in my normal gate-there was a cop blocking access.  I finally found a gate where they were letting people in, but we had to show our badge (never had to before) and there were cops there too.  [explanation: I work for a company that builds numerous aviation/defense products, so they decided they were high on the target list and screamed for help-silly businessmen].  I think I called the woman at her desk, then called back to the house, where both my future mother-in-law and my friend Metron were hanging out (he surfs the internet so I don't have to).  I called my commanding officer, who told me to sit tight.  I called my parents.  Couldn't figure out what else to do at work (although we were immediately bullshitting ideas for invading Afghanistan or maybe just nuking the planet), so I went home (past our new armed guards).

Did I mention that I had just signed up for flight lessons?  My timing, as always, was perfect.

None of us could figure out what to do at home (I think I watched the towers fall about 50 times that day), so we trekked out to a local brewpub for dinner and that most important food, beer.  Lots of other folks seemed to have the same idea.  Must be some sort of defense mechanism (when attacked, fall back, circle the wagons, and drink).  We watched the President's speech that night at the pub.  Went home, went to bed (after staring at the pictures from that day again on my computer-ain't the internet wonderful?).

Woke up the next morning, found the flag, figured out how to approximate half mast, and flew it every day that way for 30 days (day and night).

Still seems unreal even after all this time.

My biggest regret is that I did not stop to see the World Trade Center when I was in New York City in August of 2001.

Here a links to web pages celebrating the anniversary:

Don't You F'ing Forget (from Wired's Danger Room Blog)

Popular Mechanics Debunks 9/11 Myths

And from This Day in Naval History:

"2001 - One hundred twenty-five Pentagon employees, including 42 Sailors and Department of the Navy civilians, are killed along with 59 airline passengers when terrorists fly a highjacked airliner into the Pentagon."

What should I write about today?

I am sorry to my readers for not posting in a while.  No doubt you have all deleted this page from your bookmarks and I am now just writing for the pleasure of the vast almost intelligent internet.

Have you ever gotten a song stuck in your head?  Not even something someone was singing, not something from the radio, just a song that started playing inside your brain and wouldn't stop?  I had this experience a while back.  Remember Michigan J. Frog?  He was the singing/dancing frog in Warner Brothers cartoons.  He was a one hit wonder-his only hit was an old song called "Hello, Ma Baby".  Here is the chorus:

Hello! ma baby, Hello! Ma honey, Hello! ma ragtime gal.
Send me a kiss by wire, baby my heart's on fire!
If you refuse me, Honey, you'll lose me, then you'll be left alone;
Oh baby, telephone and tell me I'm your own.
Hello! Hello! Hello! Hello there.

By the way, the best way to get rid of a song in your head is to give it to someone else.  Sorry.

Here are some links:

• A blog about the frog
• An audio clip of the chorus
• A google search (over 66000 hits!)
• And of course, the obligatory You-Tube clip

One of my sillier posts, to be sure, but I have been meaning to post this one for a while.

Who's next?

A friend of mine known as Equalitist in this strange electronic realm has started a blog.  I knew this stuff was contagious.  Which one of you is next?  I linked to it in the title of this post, so check it out.

Another Memorial Day...

...has come and almost gone.  I was going to take the family to the town "wall", but plans were overcome by events.  As promised, here is another military poem, this one from 1847.  That was the time of the Mexican-American War, the Great Irish Potato Famine

The Bivouac of the Dead

By Theodore O'Hara, 1847

The muffled drum's sad roll has beat

The soldier's last tattoo'

No more on life's parade shall meet

That brave and fallen few;

On Fame's eternal camping ground

Their silent tents are spread;

But Glory guards with solemn round

The bivouac of the dead.

Location Revealed...

...I am blogging from the Hawaiian Islands.  The first set of pictures were from various places around Oahu.  The second set of pictures were from the Arizona Memorial (grave to some 900 US sailors).

Here are two more pictures from the Arizona.  The next two pictures show the wall of casualties from 07 DECEMBER 1941, a date which shall live in infamy.

Second photographic hints

Steel rusts and crumbles, oil leaks out of tanks, mingling with the water and making rainbows...