New Family Members

...of the four-footed variety.

Meet Sebastian and Scuttle! Sebastian's the tuxedo, and while the other looks all gray, Scuttle is beginning to show tabby markings.

Ask anyone who has ever been involved in an animal rescue organization if they ever thought they'd have this many animals, and you'll get the same answer. Hell, I never thought I'd have even one - now we've got a three-ring circus of three dogs and five cats.

Scuttle came to us from one of Marilee's friends, while Sebastian is a CAWS kitten. Suffice to say, Marilee was smitten with this kitten.

Bambi, our Rat Terrier, pretty much leaves Sebastian alone, but is far more interested in Scuttle. Pay no attention that Scuttle looks like a rat. Lexie is a bit too hyper around both; she's visited a bit less.

Sundance is declining comment.

Posts Missing In Action

Photos from Taylorsville Dayzz on 6/27 (the fireworks display on 6/26 was rained out):

More fireworks photos to come...

Illusions

Yes, this is an update to my blog.

No, it's not a full update.

No fancy sh!t, nor any real "stuff".

Why, then, am I not doing a full update, even though I'm obviously on a viable computer and able to DO an update?

Because I'm on Marilee's portable. It's just different.

But good news is in the offing. According to the shipping information provided by the seller of the new display for my laptop, it should arrive today.

Barring any abnormalities, I should be back on my laptop by the afternoon. There's much to come. Stay tuned to this bat channel.

Still Here

Laptop took a dump late last week. Other than the wife's portable - which never goes anywhere - I'm a bit "down" right now.

Parts on order, should be back to full blogging by the end of the week.

Seen On The Intarwebs

Choice:

Years from now, my [grand]children will ask me, "Where were you when Michael Jackson died?"

"On the internet with a bunch of strangers, making snarky comments."

Don't Hold Back

Taylor just came upstairs from the basement.

"Bob! You hear about Michael Jackson?"

"Yeah - numerous reports. One source says he's dead, another said he was in cardiac arrest when paramedics arrived, another said LaToya was sobbing at the hospital... No one knows what's going on."

As he turns to head back to the basement, he says "Well, let me know if he dies."

I say "Do try to hold back your emotions, OK?"

A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

Indeed:

The x-ray image above was taken yesterday afternoon. Yes, that's MY neck. And MY titanium plate. Replete with screws. I was able to keep the x-ray - a souvenir of sorts.

Maybe I'll have it printed and carry it around in my wallet.

Proof I'm not carrying contraband in my neck for screeners.

Twitter Can Wait

No Tweeting in the tub, OK?

Girl dies Tweeting in the tub

Taylorsville Dayzz

It's that time of year again, folks.

As we head off into the latter part of June, the fireworks stands are already being set up, ready for the 4th of July. But there are other fireworks coming our way, and I don't mean for the 24th of July. While fireworks won't be set off in the neighborhood driveways this weekend, these fireworks will be going off for Taylorsville Dayzz.

The professional kind - on the 27th and 28th at 10pm each night.

Living virtually across the street from Valley Regional Park, we're in a prime location for all the festivities of Taylorsville Dayzz. And not just the fireworks. June 27th, this Saturday, there's a parade that actually closes 27th West from 54th South to 47th South. This is a big deal.

More information about Taylorsville Dayzz can be found here.

I Play This Game Far Too Much

You should, too.

After all, some addictions can be good for the soul:

Crush the Castle

Great Words

Got an interesting email today.

Seems Ben Fulton of the Salt Lake Tribune is now following me on Twitter. And I'm not sure why.

After all, he is local. Then again, maybe it's something he read.

As far as reading goes, here's his only post - which bears repeating, if only because it's so true of social media:

"Now begins the arduous but delightful task of building a following."

So true.

Crazy But Not Stupid

Found this on Fark:

Half of you are going to try this next time you get the opportunity, and all of you are going to hurt yourselves

Lost In The Translation

A local Spanish television station has been broadcasting, for the last week or so, an announcement that they've switched to high-definition digital, on channel 619.

Their content is no longer available on Channel 22.

OK, locals, if you're still using a "standard" TV - in other words, one that has a 4:3 aspect ratio - go take a look at channel 619. Most, if not all content on the left and right sides of the picture are lost. Which is typical. For example, digital channel 652 is channel 4 (KTVX) in HD. During most shows, that "ABC" logo is offset from the right by about a quarter of the screen size. But display that image, using the controls on your remote, at 4:3 and the ABC logo appears in its pre-June 12th position.

Just like a "standard" TV.

But there's another, uh, aspect to this that's not immediately apparent - what if you haven't gotten around to buying an HDTV? And you don't have a cable company HD box?

(There are SO many combinations of boxes, TV's, HDTV's, cables, cable companies, antennas, ad nauseum, that I wouldn't want to be anywhere near a cable company help desk right now.)

Anyway... Comcast - as well as cable companies nationwide - said that if you were on cable, you didn't have to worry about your old TV working, because the cable would still provide a signal your TV could use. Except for one crucial factor - if your TV doesn't know what a channel 619 is, then what?

All you get to do is watch a test pattern.

TeleFutura should be ashamed of turning their back on an entire block of the population - who may not have gotten all the information on the HD switchover in the first place.

[About the title of this post]

I originally was going to make this post about channel 22 switching to all-HDTV. Being a Spanish-only station, the text displayed on channel 22 is thus: PROGRAMACION DE TELEFUTURA PUEDE SER ENCONTRADA EN EL CANAL DIGITAL 619. Using Google Translate from Spanish to English, that turns into the following:

"TeleFutura's lineup can be found on digital channel 619."

Wow - translation software has come a long way, hmm? Not only is that apostrophe in the right place, but the extra capitalization of TeleFutura is rather impressive.

In other words, WTF?

Dads Get A Bum Rap

Never let it be said that you don't find factual information on my blog. OK, maybe a little bs here and there. But still.

Happy Father's Day one day late!

At Jenn, Chris and Ramin's yesterday for Father's Day. Burgers and cake. My kind of party!

While the gifts were nice - and appreciated! - the cards I got were over the top.

From Jenn and Chris:

Outside: free beer here. Inside: Now that I have your undivided attention, happy Father's Day!

From Taylor: Dad, I've always admired how, unlike so many wimpy guys these days, you always make the tough decisions, lay down the law, and rule the castle the way a man is meant to rule. Inside: (I thought Mom was going to split a gut when I showed her this one.)

I did actually get a six-pack of Guinness from Jenn and Chris, and the tongue-in-cheek admiration of Taylor's card made me sort of weepy. Until I opened the card, that is.

I made comment during the festivities that you'd never see cards like those for Mother's Day. Give any such card to Mom, well, all you need do is remember the Golden Rule of families: "If Mom's happy, everyone's happy."

And what card did my lovely wife get me?

Outside: Fathers will tell their kids that they know what's best, but when you get a group of Fathers together, they bond over the fact that none of them has any idea what they're doing.

After that, does the inside really matter?

That said, the inside does say "Hope your Father's Day is the best! (Whether you like it or not!)"

Sigh.

Recovery Update

Stopped by the "office" today to drop off my truck, phone, access card, and laptop. It's an asset management thing.

Enough about that - at least it got me out of the house for awhile.

Took my Steri-Strips off last night - the scar isn't bad at all, since there were no stitches. Looks like (and Marilee concurs) that no one will be the wiser that I even had spinal surgery. Which could be a bad thing...

"So you've been off for how long, you say you had surgery, yet there's no surgical scar?"

[crickets]

"Yeah, riiiight."

Most Trusted Man in America

The Chicago Sun-Times is reporting that Walter Cronkite may be signing off soon:

Legendary CBS journalist Walter Cronkite reportedly gravely ill

This has been verified by multiple sources at CBS and other published reports, according to the Times' website.

Summerfest!

It's time again for Logan Summerfest!

To be held Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, June 19-21, the Summerfest Arts Faire offers fine art, great food and entertainment to it's visitors. From the Summerfest website: "...Local and regional visitors will have the opportunity to purchase fine art and gifts at great prices, and a delightful variety of food, snacks and drinks. All vendors are carefully selected for quality and variety and visitors will not be disappointed."

Located at Logan's historic Tabernacle Square, Summerfest is easy to find. Parking's difficult, but not impossible. Be sure to wear comfortable shoes, and maybe bring a lawn chair or two to sit on the shady lawn and people watch.

Marilee and I are going on Sunday to help celebrate Father's Day.

You should plan on going, too!

Caveat Blogger

Found an interesting ability of Blogger this evening - called Blogger Play, it displays a slideshow of images recently posted to other folks' blogs.

Fair warning, though - there is a possibility you may see an inappropriate image - NSFW, in other words.

The FAQ for Blogger Play can be found here.

Have fun!

On My Healing Process

Overall, doing well. At least I think so from my vantage point. I've been able to (mostly) stay off the Lortab, though there's been a few evening muscle spasms and I take Carisoprodol for that.

No pain, though I get pins and needles in my fingertips from time to time. At least I'm not as bad off as this guy.

Just have to lean my neck to the left to make mine go away, probably still some irritation in that C6-C7 bundle. But not as bad as it once was.

I have a follow-up scheduled for next Wednesday and an X-ray an hour beforehand which sort of surprised me, but this is a new experience for me.

Maybe the X-ray is to make sure my screws aren't loose.

Though that's a whole 'nother branch of medicine.

Price Breaktrhough

No, that's not a typo. On my part.

The following image was contained within an email today:

Wonder if they include a spell checker.

[It is a nice price, however.]

Dooce Had Her Baby

Just sayin'.

Updates are at Twitter accounts @dooce and @blurb.

Also at dooce.com and blurbomat.com.

Congratulations to them both!

Language Barriers

And the problem is...?

Love this article from the Associated Press:

"By Associated Press

12:41 PM EDT, June 13, 2009

CINCINNATI (AP) — A Hindu father from Ohio has filed a complaint with the Justice Department claiming his son was forced to eat a beef taco in the school cafeteria.

Ashish Gandhi says the taco incident occurred at the Academy of World Languages [AWL], a public magnet school in Cincinnati. Eating beef is considered a sacrilege to Hindus.

Cincinnati Public Schools attorney Gary Winters told investigators the boy chose the taco himself, and the employee who gave it to him was unaware of his dietary restrictions.

Gandhi, who moved to the U.S. from India in 2007, calls the taco meal an "intentional act of religious bigotry." He filed a separate complaint claiming the school has refused to offer his son services for students who don't speak English.

Nearly half of the academy's students speak foreign languages."

Now wait a minute. Since this sounds like a "typical" charter - read alternative - school, with ESL (English as a Second Language) courses available, shouldn't Dad have asked if they did indeed have someone who spoke the requisite language to teach his son?

And what, exactly, has sonny learned thus far if he didn't speak any English?

The Academy of World Language's website says there are "...foreign-language learning opportunities including Arabic, Chinese, Japanese, and Russian."

Enrollment forms, however, are available not from AWL's site, but from the Cincinnati Public Schools' website, and are available in English, Spanish, French, and Arabic.

Is it just me, or is there a bit of a disconnect here?

In AWL's defense, though, they do say "...Students in all grades receive foreign-language instruction at least 150 minutes on a weekly basis."

In this case, however, it's just not English.

Flag Day

How interesting is it that Six Flags filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection the day before FLAG DAY?

Coincidence?

Maples In Living Color

I'm hoping my recent readers from LDS Hospital are still "listening" - I have a question for you all:

Do the maple trees around the hospital and surrounding medical office buildings turn red or yellow in the fall?

The backstory:

Last October, I posted a bit about the maple trees we have growing around our house.

Mentioning only briefly about the little one off in the corner in the backyard, I figured it was about time to snap a photo:

With the weather the way it is, not to mention the sprinkler system installed last year, the "little one" is doing fine. While not ten-plus feet high as the ones in the front, I'm sure its root system is rather well-developed.

During one of our outings during a doctor's visit, Marilee and I commented on the number of maple seeds that had dropped from the many maples around the hospital and surrounding medical buildings.

Unfortunately, all of the ones around that area were immature seeds - they hadn't quite gotten to "helicopter" mode yet.

Maple seeds are amazing creations of nature. Once you see how a maple seed is "engineered", you'll wonder how something like that could be created and Who created them. Yes, "Who" is capitalized for a reason.

A few weeks ago I found some mature seeds outside, and for the heck of it, planted them in an unused pot in the back yard - haven't yet "intentionally" watered the pot; Mother Nature's been taking care of that lately. They're doing quite well:

As Marilee and I are "into"ornamental" trees and plants, we've been talking about getting another maple, but this time one that turns red in the fall, since all the ones in our yards turn yellow - a red one would be a great contrast.

We'll be heading back in the direction of the hospital in the next week or so for a followup visit and will be looking for mature seeds. But want to make sure we're getting "red" ones, not "yellow" ones.

So again, that's the question: Do the maples around LDS Hospital turn red or yellow in the fall?

Interesting Yet Disturbing

I think I'll be looking into watermark programs that embed copyright information into the images I post on the internet. If the following can happen to an ordinary family in Missouri, it can happen to any one of us who post our pictures in our blogs - or anywhere else for that matter:

How did Christmas photo get in life-size ad in Czech Republic store?

The link to see the picture in the store window is here.

Scary sh!t.

Father's Day Gifts

Looking for the perfect Father's Day gift? This may not be it, unless Dad is very single:

I picked up an analog weather forecaster - that's one with dials for you youngsters - at a yard sale several weeks ago before all these thunderstorms started in Utah. I'd mentioned that it would be really cool to get a forecaster that's digital.

"Maybe you'll get one for Father's Day."

The one above is from Wind and Weather and is only $39.95.

I bet there's a caveat to the image shown on their website, though. You wanna bet what the girl will be wearing when that cloud goes away?

You also wanna bet I will not be getting this one?

The Respiration Technician

I'd like this guy's job. I met him if only for a brief moment a couple hours before I checked out of the hospital last Wednesday.

He goes around to every patients' room and checks their blood oxygen levels. The device he used was a "finger pulse oximeter", and I want one. No, really.

Bulky it's not. In fact, he was carrying it in the palm of his hand - but it was even smaller than that.

Similar in function to the stethoscope-less clip-on-your-finger device many care facilities use nowadays, this thing also clips onto your finger and measures not only your oxygen level but your pulse as well. Even had a damn EKG-like display. Had a bright OLED display and can be read in just about any ambient light.The one he had was rather spendy - he said the hospital got them for about 200 bucks a pop, but there are less-fancy ones available without the EKG function. Some even have a USB port for long-term diagnoses.

One rather minimalistic model just has large characters a la old-school LED's and can be had for about $50.

No, I don't want one for Father's Day.

Just sayin'.

About Post-Op Meds

This is more of a "Words to the wise" than about specifics.

Specifically, watch what you read when you're on your post-operative medications.

As said previously, a book I'd heard about but put aside for another time to read has been getting my attention late at night in my dreams.

I've never had problems dreaming and/or getting into REM sleep. In this particular case, though, the subject matter can give you the heebie-jeebies if put in the wrong context, that context being under the influence.

Of what? The mere fact that - in Utah at least - that one needs to show ID when picking up one's meds from the local apothecary if said meds are a narcotic, then all you need do is think Timothy Leary. For my generation, that gets the point across pretty easily.

I've already written about some of the travels I've done (read trips) about other meds I've taken and what the thankfully non-negative outcomes were. But those were conscious travels; rather these past few have been in my sub-conscious. Not sure that since I was in deep sleep I was therefore unconscious.

The book, by A. J. Jacobs, is titled "The Year of Living Biblically". The subject matter wouldn't otherwise have got my attention if not for a report done by the Bryant Park Project on NPR in late 2007. It sounded interesting, if only that the question comes up occasionally whether the the Bible should be taken literally, or as literature?^1,2

I imagine that since none of the Bible should be considered as fantasy (I suppose it depends on who you talk to, or even if your beliefs are of the Creationist/Evolutionist/Flying Spaghetti Monster variety), but since my mind lately is muddied a bit by my prescribed narcotics, bits of reality have been interspersed with that of the book.

Listen to the piece at NPR about the book, then imagine what your mind might do with it.

Yes, I'll probably finish reading the book, but I'm not one to comment on it in part or in full.

Particularly if I'm under the influence.


¹ OK, I admit I had to look up the word literal: Pertaining to a letter of the alphabet. More typically, it means “based on what is actually written or expressed.” A literal interpretation gives an exact rendering—word for word— taking words in their usual or primary sense. It is also used to describe thinking which is unimaginative or matter of fact.http://www.enotes.com/literary-terms/literal
² There was even a class in high school called "Bible as Lit". Thirty-four years ago. Imagine how far we've come.

No Where Near Normalcy Yet

It occurred to me this morning that I'm not feeling at all "normal". Not particularly because someone last week was digging around in my neck with sharp instruments and a SCREWDRIVER, but because my routine has been altered in ways too numerous to mention.

And trying to get back to something approaching normal has been a real challenge.

Yesterday, for example, though my blog post had to do with sleeping, and the challenges involved with that, I had actually written most of that on Thursday with my manual Bob's BS.

Yesterday, I couldn't come up with anything new to write about - I was in pain most of the day, couldn't find a comfortable position to sleep in, there were constant dog interruptions, couldn't "get into" any of the movies I tried to watch, et cetera.

And as far as pain, no combination of my meds seemed to do the trick.

I awoke this morning at 4:15am and could not get back to sleep. Came downstairs, watched a bit of TV, and still had pain¹ I could not control.

Marilee was up at about 5am - which surprised me for a Saturday. I was having a "constitutional" out on the porch, and she startled me as I rose so as to go back into the house. Turned and ran smack dab into the post on the porch, leading with my arm. Yes, THAT arm.

After stumbling back inside and meandering around the kitchen and family room and trying to decide whether to go back upstairs and trying to sleep some more, somewhere in the back of my drug-muddled mind I began to wonder just what the hell was going on: Thursday had been so much more "normal", but Friday everything turned to crap. I even had headaches that hadn't been present in the last two days, even with all the dru...

Then it hit me, as if headlong into a brick wall.

Thus this blog post.

Normalcy - or something approaching it - is achieved with a drug I had none of on Friday.

It's more commonly referred to by its non-generic name: COFFEE.

¹ I suppose I should mention just what pain means in my current post-op state. Pain is a shooting pain more so from my right shoulder through the elbow into my hand. Yes, the same damn pain that I had the surgery for in the first place. But since all those nerve routes have now been relieved of herniation or whatever, it will just take time for those routes to heal.

Just Sayin'

From the Associated Press this morning, a better headline would have been:

Muslims want action to back up Obama's tone

The "other" way just doesn't sound right. Look it up.

Just sayin'.

Taking Things For Granted

Something as simple as sleeping.

Sleeping has become an interesting experience all on its own. After sleeping just one night at LDS Hospital on the standard-issue hospital bed - no doubt designed by the same guy as the medieval "rack" - and having to sleep at an exact 30-degree angle as decreed by my neurosurgeon, I have found that position to be nearly impossible to maintain.

Being a left- or right-side sleeper all my life, adapting to anything other than a 90- or 270-degree attitude (pitch, yaw, whatever), is quite challenging. And for me to keep in that position requires a foam cervical collar, also likely designed by someone in the dark ages.

The "log-roll" is the accepted method for getting into the left- or right- axes described above, provided that there's a flat spot.

This log has no flat spot.

[In hindsight, it appears that Marilee's decision to purchase a two-ended recliner for the two of us has become a Godsend. With Lexie as a counterweight at 2am, I was able to sleep quite comfortable at an approximate 30-degree-ish angle. Or was it foresight?]

Free Time

I seem to have an over-abundance of free time - I'm only at my first full day of post-op and I'm just a bit stir crazy. Call it cabin fever if you'd like. I could drive if need be, but Marilee would rather I didn't. But considering all the neat-o meds still coursing through my system, maybe I'll just stay put.

Sitting here with not much else to do but heal, it occurred to me that it would be a great time to catch up on some long-put-off reading. Having just picked up a few tomes from my basement library, and realizing that "The Word Museum" and "Casual Lex" aren't exactly War and Peace - the Salt Lake Valley white pages would be just as riveting - I grabbed a tome I'd heard about last year on NPR called "The Year of Living Biblically" by A. J. Jacobs.

I had just gotten to page 9 of the hard cover edition when I was overcome by the urge to grab my Bob's BS journal and make a few notes and quickly ran out of room on a full page.

Having just reached that point and realizing that all this time I have on my hands that I can garner quite a bit of useful stuff or worthless crap.

Or pure BS.

Thus the grabbing of my BS book.

It had me remember that in my hospital room, there was not only nothing to write ON, but nothing to write WITH. It took my nurse-on-duty a bit of time to track down some paper, once she inadvertently left a pen in the room with me. Just a simple Bic stick pen, it had me wanting to write something. Anything.

If only to make note of things to write about in the coming days and weeks of myself nursing my sore neck.

Interestingly enough, when I was making those notes earlier in my manual notebook, my arm was not hurting one bit. Now, typing on the notebook, the pins and needles are starting to remind me they've not entirely left my system. Yeah, I know, give it time.

So using a simple PENCIL in my BS journal, I was able to stop a pain from occurring.

And what does that mean to you? You wouldn't have been able to read this until MUCH later.

But do YOU need a Bob's BS book? Why not? Manual notebooks work just as well as their electronic counterparts, and don't crash.

Tempting, isn't it?

Lately I've Been Watching Chelsea

Only by sheer accident have I lately been watching Chelsea Lately, one of THE coolest late-night talk shows around. The TV-Content warning label in the upper-left-hand corner of the screen when the show starts suggests just what to expect - typically, just underneath the large TV logo is DSL. There's no violence, hence the lack of the letter V. Something you'd expect from a movie.

But this is a talk show.

I TiVo her show since I don't stay up late, pre- or post-op. So this morning I'm watching last-evening's show, and she's just said she's not going to even mention a certain reality-show any more.

Nor am I, not that I've ever mentioned it anyway.

But as with my comment last year about the Jonas Brothers and Volcanoes, I'm going to mention the other thing just once, just to see what happens to my reader count.

There's nothing to see here. Move along:

John and Kate Plus 8

Oh Negative

There are many things hospital people ask you when you check in for any given procedure. The one I find interesting that they don't ask is what blood type you are. Marilee said it's likely that they wouldn't take your word for it; they draw blood anyway during that initial insertion of a catheter, and they're going to find out soon enough.

And, again, there I was, checking in at a hospital (last time was for my gall bladder removal), and again, they did not ask.

I'm a popular guy in that regard - I'm O-Negative.

And I only know that because I donated blood a few times back in the 80's.

Do you know your blood type?

Anyway, the first time I donated blood way back then, I talked to my Dad about the procedure, and he said something I've not forgotten since then and likely never will forget: "How could that be?"

No, I don't know what type he was, nor do I know what type my Mom was. Maybe then, like now, not much is known by the layman about what happens when one blood type meets another in the whole genetic world. After all, the only time that topic comes up is if you're in need of a transfusion, or that there's a likelihood you'll want to make a baby.

In fact, the last time I was asked what my blood type was, was in a bar in Tokyo in 1985 at 3am.

But we'll leave that story for another time...

Post-Op

I'm home from the hospital for some much-needed recuperation.

And now pain free, at least the pain for which I went in for. Now the pain to get rid of is from the surgery.

I want to thank the staff at LDS Hospital for taking such good care of me, specifically Rochelle, Jeff, Angie, Tiva, Laura, Maria, Elizabeth, Ondira, and Breanne. Through the haze of anesthesia, I might have missed a few names; for those I missed, I thank you, too.

And thanks particularly to Dr. Robert G. Peterson, my neurosurgeon.

And in case you're wondering, his middle name is Gordon.

I'll have more in the next few days but for now I'm exhausted.

Incommunicado

I'm actually writing this post Monday at about 3:30pm, but having it post at Tuesday, 9:15am.

The reason? At that particular time Tuesday I'll be checking into LDS Hospital for my surgery.

So although there won't be any "real-time" blog post on Tuesday, I'll be taking my cell phone with me so as to "Tweet" once I'm coherent enough to do so.

How will you know I've "tweeted"? It'll be over there in the right-hand sidebar under "@bobsbs", which is oddly enough my Twitter username.

My surgery dictates I'll be spending the night at LDS, so nothing much will be forthcoming Tuesday evening, either. Again, look for a tweet or three.

All for now - I'm going to go nap some more before tonight - tomorrow's going to be a loooong day...

Type to you all soon!

Lightning Storms

Theoretically, the image below should show the current real-time lightning strikes across the United States. It's lifted directly from the United States Precision Lightning Network's home page.



So theoretically, if you bookmark the image - not the page - you can always see the current lightning strikes across the country.

If not, just bookmark the page - not the image - and revisit it whenever you want to see how flashy the US is at any given moment.

Cool!

Something To Look Forward To

With all the great rain we've had thus far this spring, I'm happy to say the weeds are doing quite well in our back yard. And even though our front yard has one less tree, the weeds which had been surrounding that patch were expertly pulled recently by Jenn.

There's still much that could be done in both yards, but since I have a black thumb - though I still want to know how to make our Virginia Creeper propagate - I can't even imagine where to start the process of where, what, and when, as far as actual plants go.

But there's hope on the horizon, and will likely be just in time for me to venture out after my neck surgery.

Coming up on June 12th and 13th will be the Hidden Garden Benefit Tour in Utah County. For $13 you'll be able to traipse through fourteen private gardens from Alpine to Orem to really see how to do "it".

More information can be had at the Tour's website at www.hiddengarden.org.

News You Can Use

This morning there's an article in the Deseret News - yeah, yeah, yeah, I know I've been a bit harsh of late - that I can actually relate to.

While Ann Cannon's wrist armor will be setting off metal detectors all over the place, my hardware will be located in my neck. She cannot type due to something resembling a wrist rocket; I cannot type before my surgery.

Anyway, I fully enjoyed the article, and I think you will, too:

Broke wrist. Had surgery. Life stuff hard.

Gravity Sucks

Be it known that in my current physical state that gravity sucks. Not the other way 'round.

In a sequence of events that can only be described as miraculous, Marilee called for me for an appointment with a neurosurgeon Wednesday, he saw me yesterday, and my surgery is scheduled for this coming Tuesday.

Yes, surgery. And, yes, a scalpel will be involved.

THANK GOD.

As far as gravity is concerned, if I lay completely motionless with my right arm straight out from my torso at a 90-degree angle, I can sleep rather well. And when not sleeping, and gravity being what it is, it's all meds. Thank God for meds. Even now, as I type, with my arm(s) at awkward angles, I can only tap-tap-tap for only a few minutes at a time. But even with the pain, I felt I needed to get this post off before I must lay down and get gravity off my mind. And arms.

So far this morning, I've had a Valium, two extra-strength Tylenols, and a Lortab. And while my mind might be a bit foggy, I can type.

And after Tuesday, I'll be able to type without that cocktail. I'll probably have a different cocktail, but they'll be part of the road to recovery rather than numerous stop-gaps, which has been the case with the other top-notch¹ physicians I've seen to date for this same affliction.

If you've noticed a particular thread these last few posts, you'll realize I'm not one to believe any one physician and what they may have to say at any one given examination. Marilee is a fan of "Mystery Diagnosis" type programs; she TiVo's every one she can find. They're all about people who have seen infinite numbers of MD's (and quacks) for months and years and never find a diagnosis until ONE caring MD finds some obscure non-textbook case or other in a similarly-obscure text. And even while some of those cases are so rare there aren't any set cures, at least they have a name.

I got along rather well in the hour or so we spent with my neurosurgeon, Dr. Robert G. Peterson. The mere fact his first name is Robert made me acutely aware he had a bit of credence. That he's also an Aquarius (January 28 vs. my January 31) made him even more so credible - a fact that Marilee realized all too well - he's a bit of an ass in the way he speaks and acts. I did not ask what his middle name is - mine also starts with a G - that would be too freaky, and I decided to leave it alone.

So anyway, that's what's going on in my pain, meds, and "My Spinal Surgery" posts for now. I'll try to post again before the procedure, but don't ecpect too much for a few days or even a week afterwards; but my mind will be active and will come up with some choice subjects afterwards.

You can bet on that.

¹ That comment is very tongue-in-cheek. MD#1: Here's some meds, you'll be fine again in a week or so. MD#2: Here's some more meds, and a list of orthopedists. MD#3: Go to this other MD(#4), he'll poke some needles in your back, oh, and here's some more meds. Which brings us to MD#5, the surgeon.

Prince Valium

If you've come here looking for a reference to the movie SpaceBalls, you'll be disappointed. Prince Valium is how my friend Dave refers to me since I've been having my neck/back/arm pains.

And Prince Valium has just entered my star system; it's the only thing that keeps the pain at bay.

I have that appointment with the orthopedic surgeon today at 1pm. While I'm not worried about what he might suggest as a treatment regimen, it was after a short comment Marilee made last evening that made me realize what else he might suggest - for the better, of course.

She (Marilee) has a friend who had to undergo some neurological surgery a year or so ago, but the surgeon would not do the surgery unless the friend quit doing something for a period of six weeks prior to the procedure.

Marilee reminded me of that, and to not be surprised if this surgeon suggested the same thing.

So while my pain in the neck may subside, the pain of quitting smoking will make up for the pain in my arm.

There's No Instruction Manual For Life

Let alone trying to navigate the mess the health care system has become.

I should know. Or rather, my wife knows.

If it weren't for my dear wife of three years - actually, we've done away with the whole "when we met" anniversary and just lumped that in with our wedding anniversary, thus making yesterday's date of May26th our five year anniversary - the whole mess of figuring out insurance documentation is her job. Because it really is her job.

I was off work last week, since the meds I've been taking make me dangerous on the road. Dizzy enough from the meds to trip over the coffee table in the family room, God forbid what I might trip over driving a 3/4 ton truck during work.

After my X-ray and consultation sent me in the direction of an MRI and subsequent consultation, I had my "operation" last Friday - laying motionless, face down on a table similar to a massage table while a physiatrist (that's not a typo) deftly injected cortisone into my spinal cavity. The initial consultation with him did say that the effects could take "a week or two", but not what to do in the meantime.

In that meantime, the pain has not subsided; it's actually gotten worse. As it had been in my last week's off time. So I continue to take my pain meds, and still am not driving.

To make matters worse if not already so, having already run out of sick time, and after a much-needed vacation earlier this year, I'm getting rather low on vacation time. Which means, of course, that in a few days I won't be getting compensation of any kind.

Enter FMLA - the Family Leave Medical Act. But not having the prowess in such things as my wife does, I figured it would just kick in automatically.

NO, I DID NOT KNOW THIS, so don't bother with your "What you should have done" comments.

To get things rolling on that note, I've got another appointment with another physician - that will make FIVE for this particular affliction I've been living with for about five weeks now - tomorrow at 1pm. This guy's an orthopedic surgeon. An actual, live, breathing dude that actually uses a scalpel in his job. So far it's been a pen, pencil, or keyboard. And just a bit of needle.

What the HELL ever happened to the doctors who did everything themselves?

Anyway, more to come tomorrow after THAT appointment, I'm sure.

Our Virginia Creeper

Last October, I posted an entry about the vine that grows on our chain-link gate. Only now, the middle of May, is it finally growing in thick enough to again block the view from the street of our oh-so-tidy back yard.

Which is, of course, the reason we've let it grow.

It's a Virginia Creeper, as one Carabeth commented, on that original blog post. She'd found my comment at blurbomat's blog entry of his Virginia Creeper (Carabeth even commented on his post). That is written by Jon Armstrong, husband of the rock-star-status blogger Heather Armstrong at dooce.com. Funny how stuff gets around, posted to, commented on, etc.

It grows from the same spot every year, from the neighbor's yard. From two or three very thick "branches" of vine. I'd never want it to die, of course, because I LIKE the vine. It does stuff. I guess I really do have the same view of horticulture that Marilee does: if a plant doesn't bloom, or bear fruit, or at least change color one a year, then what good does it do as an ornamental plant?

But that's a post for another day.

So since I don't want the creeper to ever die, I do want to know how to make them propagate. The berry-things shriveled up into things that looked like seeds, but they didn't do much when planted. And as it is springtime now, the vine will soon produce something akin to pollen as it did last year.

But those spindly appendages - call them prehensile tails if you want - look like they could dig into whatever medium I might lay them across and thus become roots.

Surely there's some horticulturist out there that knows - Carabeth, perhaps - and I don't want to have to go to a garden center to get a fresh new plant since there's an abundant crop of creepers in my back yard.

Comments?

Modern Medicine

Though I fully expected a witch doctor a la ooo eee ooo aaa aaa bing bang walla walla bing bang to come dancing through the door yesterday afternoon, it wouldn't have mattered much since I was face-down on an operating room table with instruments poking into my spine.

I had my epidural yesterday afternoon.

After the insertion of an IV tube in my left arm - which interestingly enough didn't hurt as much as the one for my gall bladder surgery a couple years ago, I was off to the operating room which consisted of something akin to a massage table next to a mini MRI machine.

I had expected to have been knocked out for the procedure, but was fully awake, and while the pin-like pricks in my back weren't painful, they didn't last but a minute.

I was in and out of "surgery" for not much longer than fifteen minutes.

Of course, I also expected my arm pain to cease immediately, but was told it might take a week or two.

Lovely. Two more weeks of agonizing arm pain, making it downright impossible to type, let along drive due to the cocktail of Diazepam and Lortab. And this morning, I awoke with not a pain in my arm, but Princess barking at the closed bedroom door "asking" to be let out.

Stumbling towards the door, tripping over Marilee's recliner, and an awkwardly-placed pillow, thus began the three-dog-one-human march down the stairs.

THAT was more stumble than march since the lovely drugs intended to calm me a bit apparently haven't left my body yet.

Dogs have now been let out, and thought I'd blog a bit before returning to bed.

And have just remembered one of the "possible" side effects of the procedure - blurred vision, and my hunting and pecking is a bit offf.

HAVING TROUBLE TYPING. Not that I ever learned, mind you; I don't know a home row from a throw rug, and those little nubbins on the 'F' and 'J' leys get in the way. Not to mention the eraser-stick smack dab in the middle of the two.

Have had to re-read everything I've typed thus far, and it's taking far longer to type this than usual, and am adding extra characters all over the place.

And just glanced at the clock - it's taken me a full forty-five minutes to type this little enrty.

Methinks I need to get back to peaceful slumber to sleep off what the hell ever it is that's still in my veins.

Except for the cortisone - THAT can stay for a while.

Yes, This Post Is About Religion

I don't post about religion. Seriously.

But the following linked article IS about religion, and I just had to share.

IMHO, "Margo" is correct in her assessment.

And if YOU have a problem with that, then, well, you know:

Dear Margo: Religious Fanatics on the Lunatic Fringe

I'm now going to take my Zombie pills and nap before my doctor's appointment...

Taking A Break

I'm off work this week, but I'd rather it would be for more pleasurable pursuits.

My prescriptive cocktail currently consists of Ibuprofen, Diazepam, and Lortab; individually, they do nothing for the pain in my arm, but combined, they do wonders for the pain caused by a multitude of pinched nerves in my neck.

As such, I cannot drive and thus do my daily work routine.

And so as to not exacerbate anything that may b e going on in my arm as a result, I'm taking a break from blogging as it is too painful to sit with my arms extended,

Prepare for a barrage of topics in the next week or so...

♫ Make The Pain Go Away ♫

Hopefully, the little musical notes will translate well into the title of this post.

Had my MRI done last Wednesday. While the procedure itself wasn't painful, the laying motionless for twenty-five minutes was excruciating.

And Friday was the the follow-up consultation.

I'd type more just now, but it is far too painful to type.

More later.

Great Post At TechCrunch By Robin Wauters

Titled "There We Go Again. No, Micropayments Won’t 'Save Journalism'", this has to do with online newspapers' presence on the web trying to save their skins by charging for their content.

Sorry, just stirring the pot once again - at least I didn't mention the Deseret News.

If It Weren't True THEY Wouldn't Let It Be Said

Except, of course, there is no "they."

I've heard that phrase too many times over the last few years. Like the friend that said he'd found the miracle cure for all that ails mankind, and almost overdosed on colloidal silver.

So though you may read something on my blog, you should know that everything I say here is MY opinion, and you have the choice of believing it or not. And heaven forbid you might have your own opinion. Because this IS America, and everyone CAN have their own opinion.

MY opinions last week about a certain newspaper don't amount to much, and don't become anywhere near fact, unless others say the same things, and can back their views with facts. Since I was only opining, I felt I did not need to do that. But out of curiosities' sake, I did go off looking for others' viewpoints mirroring my own.

And found quite a few.

One blog post¹ from Adam at glaadblog.org states, in part, that "[The Deseret News] has historically sought to be perceived as a credible mainstream media publication, dedicated to fair coverage of news stories." That is, it had done so until one Joe Cannon took over leadership of the paper as Editor-in-Chief. Adam further says "Though the paper’s editorial positions have always been closely aligned with those of the Mormon Church, the news coverage has been generally consistent with impartial, non-partisan mainstream journalistic standards."

Hmmm... "Mainstream journalistic standards". Like layouts, perhaps?

No, I did not dig back in any archival printed copies of the Deseret News to see if "above the fold" had been adhered to in the past. All I was saying last week is than in that here and now, it did not appear that those journalistic standards were being adhered to.

Interestingly enough, the thing that began Adam's blog post was an event that happened in February of this year: twelve reporters at the Deseret News had protested the treatment of their written articles; their protest was to remove their bylines from their articles. To the average American news reader, a byline may not mean much, but it is the "byline" which is the only thing that identifies the person who wrote the article. If enough of an article is altered such that it is no longer your words, then removing your byline is perfectly acceptable.

Adam further says in his post: "...that they [the reporters] believe that under [Joe Cannon's] direction, stories have been edited to present news through the filter of Mormon religious beliefs. In some cases, the protesters suggest stories were completely pulled because they did not strictly adhere to Mormon religious teachings and political views."

Again we see something I touched on in my posts last week. In my Above The Fold, the Deseret News said (through the Boston Globe article) that the "Election has spurred hate". In my Face and Hands post, the Deseret News speaks about how minorities are increasing in numbers statewide. If the Deseret News is in fact more strictly adhering to Mormon religious teachings and Mormon political views, where does that put them by placing those particular articles above the fold?

Now I'm done with the topic.

¹ I prefer to use the term "blog post" versus "article", unless the item I refer to is from an actual newspaper's website. That's just part of MY style guide.

THIS Was Expected

After commenting twice this week (here and here), in a not-very-savory way about the Deseret News, I totally expected something today, and was not disappointed.

Well, sort of.

We've gotten into the habit of not answering the door after a certain hour - particularly when the dogs go ape-sh!t. It's hard enough to talk to each other when the dogs are barking any other time of the day; when Lexie gets going, it's actually quite funny. But when holding her and trying to listen to a visitor at the door, it's downright impossible. So we don't even bother.

Late this afternoon, the doorbell rang, and the dogs immediately headed to the front of the house. The din had ebbed a bit when there was added a knock, too. Thus began anew the bedlam.

But this week, the bedlam really started Tuesday when I mentioned the Deseret News' habit of not playing by long-held rules of newspaper publishing. What transpired thereafter were visits to my blog from THE Deseret News - nine times - and the next day one visitor from THE Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

I commented to Marilee, and several others, mind you, that I was betting I'd have visitors with white shirts and black name tags.

When going out for my evening constitutional on the front porch just now, a card fluttered down from the door jamb.

I wondered aloud if Sisters Hansen and Miller read my blog, too.

How Do You Say Hallelujah In Chinese?

Actual news above the fold in the Deseret News this morning:

Guess this means we won't have to worry about Jon in 2012, as this article from the Washington Post points out.

Face And Hands

They're making this entirely too easy.

Unless you have a disconnect in the third dimension, you'll be able to see where the fold is, in these two photos:

The rules are:

1. The article above the fold sells the paper
2. The most important article should have the largest headline

And for all intents and purposes, both 1 and 2 should reference the same item.

Admittedly, my last Journalism class was thirty-four years ago, but print Journalism was all there was then. So unless I'm missing some underlying style guide, what the hell heck is going on?

School Daze

Here in late spring, a boy's mind begins to look forward to summer. Days of fun with friends, frolicking in the ole swimmin' hole, fishin' with...

Wait, that's a bygone era.

This summer, the certain boy is Taylor, and there's no swimmin' hole, nor is there anywhere to fish. Maybe in the Jordan River, but you'd probably not want to eat (or touch, for that matter) anything that could even live in that water.

So what's a boy to do?

If not for the events of earlier this week, he'd be sittin' on his ass playing WoW. But that's not going to happen - he's been cut off.

In not so much detail, suffice to say that as we were getting ready to go to work, Marilee and I, and Taylor for school, he announces at 7am - the time we take him to school - that he has no clean pants to wear.

Having spent the weekend mowing the grass with his brother Chris, not only were the pants grass-stained, but they'd also had something spilled on them.

"Wear your shorts" was the comment from Marilee, while mine was... well, I won't say what I was thinking.

Into the washing machine went the pants. Looking at my watch, I began the waiting period.

Thirty minutes later, the drying cycle began.

Where's Taylor during this period? Down in his room playing WoW. And likely formulating a plan.

At 8am - neither Marilee nor I had left for work, since we still had to wait for the dryer, Taylor, now dressed for school, asks me "When do you want to leave?", I reply "NOW".

Marilee, already in her car and about to drive off, I say "Wait, I need to get my laptop". In that short period, Taylor has gone outside, spoken to Marilee, and has decided not to go to school after all, since he's already missed most of his first period and a test, and there's now no reason to even go.

I get this second-hand, and...

What's the word beyond "livid"?

Twurkers

Lately it seems every term that would otherwise have nothing whatever to do with Twitter has been turned into somewhat of a Twitterism. Compare "people" to "tweeple" or "tweeps", as an example.

One I'd like to suggest is a "twurker": a lurker who watches other tweeps' tweets yet never contributes to conversations.

Like this twit who just started following my updates:

1891 followers
1 update
following 1465 people

Who the hell follows someone with just ONE update? If your updates aren't up into at least triple digits, you ain't following me.

Twits.

Above The Fold Redux

I apparently hit a nerve with my post yesterday about the Deseret News' "above the fold" article on hate spurred by President Obama's election. That the election happened six months ago is not at issue. Nor is his inauguration just 100 days or so ago.

Interestingly enough, I got just one comment out of that post, though my readership grew by about 500%. The comment follows:

"How do you know the DesNews is afoot?"

While I don't think the Deseret News has any ulterior motive in the information they presented, at issue is the way it was presented: above the fold. You see the "above the fold" presentation method on a daily basis - how far down are you going to scroll on a website until you see something worth reading? If something isn't in the first screenful, you're likely to move on to another website. Above the fold works in online media as well. See the Web Style Guide and look for the heading "Home page content and 'the fold'." I don't have need to make this stuff up.

So since the Deseret News put that particular article above the fold, someone at the Deseret News thought it more important than - as I presented yesterday - the article about the wounded police officer.

I am not backing down from my portrayal of the Deseret News as a newspaper that may not play by accepted practices laid down centuries ago regarding layout.

I will, however, admit to my readers that even though my lowly little bob's bs blog had over 35 views within 10 minutes after I pressed the "publish" button, I further spread MY words by posting the link to my blog on Twitter and Facebook with the following link:

"Hate-mongering at the Deseret News: http://bit.ly/kqRk1 "

In hindsight, "mongering" may have been a bit harsh.

What do YOU think?

Above The Fold

There is, in newspaper parlance, a term that refers to what appears first to a potential reader. That potential reader is one who would buy a paper on a newsstand. Not the one wet and mangled underneath your car in your driveway. Because this term was coined long before home delivery.

So it comes as no surprise that the most important article in any given newspaper, smack-dab on the front page, should be the one that sells the paper. And what was on the front page this morning, above the fold, of the Mormon-church-owned Deseret News? This:

Election has spurred hate

I put that in bold text so you wouldn't miss it. That this headline should be above the fold doesn't surprise me any, considering the source. But wait, there's more.

The "source" of this article is not from the Deseret News, nay, it's from the Boston Globe. I know not what's above the fold in the Boston Globe this morning. It doesn't really matter. What matters is that of all the articles the Deseret News could have put above the fold is this one.

Assuming the Deseret News thinks this should be the lead article, the article that should grab the attention of whomever should see it on a newsstand, or in a coin-operated newspaper box, should it not have the largest headline? THAT article is below the fold:

The largest headline is about a Lehi, Utah, police officer who was shot in the head during what should have been a routine traffic stop, if not for a severe mental illness that made the shooter paranoid. She was later shot and killed by backup officers who later arrived at the scene.

That the Deseret News, using whatever logic they had in the news room that day, chose to use a hate-mongering tactic as they did, is deplorable. The officer injured in the line of duty should, and does, deserve more, than to be considered less important than an article retelling something that happened six months ago.

Oh, one other thing... also above the fold, top-right-hand-corner: Whoopti-doo, the Utah state license plate is officially 100 years old this year. News worthy? Hardly.

Just what kind of news-gathering is going on at the Deseret News, to put THAT particular graphic on the front page? Be it known that's not MY emphasis on the numbers. WTF?

There's no brilliantly stimulating anything at the Deseret News.

It's all BS.

Unmanned Warrior Plane To Be Tested At Dugway

Thankfully, this drone doesn't look anything like a plane and should fly completely unnoticed over 'war zones'.

Unmanned Warrior plane to be tested at Dugway

Jenn's Graduation

This is the first of quite a few photos I took at Jenn's graduation yesterday at the U of U. Will post them at Walgreen's website such that you can order some for your very own. I'll supply you all with a link when I have them posted.

A New Chapter And A New Chapter

VERY busy day today.

I'm stoked that a new Star Trek enterprise is beginning today; we've already decided to make a go of it to see the new movie - WE meaning myself, Marilee, Taylor, Chris, Jenn, Ramin and even Guy. And whomever else might want to come along.

Guy?

That would be Jenn and Chris' Dad.

But all that will come after the other new chapter beginning today. You see, all of us - and likely ten thousand or so others - will bed taking part in commencement exercises at the University of Utah.

Jennifer is graduating today!

Over 7,100 graduates will be in attendance - with all their friends and families. All clotted in one place at the U. Chris graduated 2½ years ago from USU in Logan, and while a large affair, it twern't nearly as big.

One difference I'll take advantage of is that the trusty Olympus had died during Chris' ceremony, so I'll be getting some (hopefully) choice photos of Jenn's.

Both boldly going where no one has gone before.

Horehound

There's no 'W' in Horehound, so don't bother looking it up.

Ever had Horehound? We're talking the candy here; I've never had the tea, or even seen the herb. But it's oh, so tasty. Really a delicate taste that...

OK, so I really don't know what it tastes like. I suppose it's an acquired taste. My Dad was the one who first got me to try one of the candies; I suppose it's a bit of an old-world treat.

I know of only one local store that sells Horehound; it's Western Nut on 3rd West in Salt Lake. It's manufactured by Claeys Candies in South Bend, Indiana.

Stop by Western Nut and grab a bag of Horehound. Honestly.

History Of The Internet

No, there's no Al Gore here. Nor is there anything tongue-in-cheek, as you might expect. No, this is a legit history. Well done!

Welcome To Old Age

...that's what Dave "from the office" said this morning.

Had a doctor's appointment this morning - don't let the moniker "sports medicine" fool you. He's an orthopedist. But "sports medicine" allows him to (likely) charge an arm and a leg (literally) for his services.

The appointment was for the pain I've had in my right arm ever since Princess took her tumble down the stairs. No, I wasn't in the way when she tumbled, but during the week that she had problems going up the stairs, I spent the evenings on the couch on the first floor to keep her from attempting the climb. A "baby-gate" prevented her from climbing the stairs thereafter.

Unfortunately, spending that much time on the couch exacerbated a problem I appear to have had for some time: while an MRI later this week will seal the deal as far as a definitive diagnosis, I have Degenerative Disc Disease or so my orthopedist thinks.

Short-term, I'm taking Methylprednisolone for pain and inflammation, and Diazepam (Valium) to help me sleep at night. After my MRI, they'll decide which of three possible outcomes there are:

Time/Therapy/Meds, or
Injections, or
Surgery.

Thrilled at all three.

You Might Be A Redneck If...

Redneck Air Conditioner:

From eBaum's World.

Car Window Fail

I'll bet this guy backs into his parking spots:

Car Window Fail

I Wouldn't Have Thought It Possible

But it was full when the trash collection company came by to pick up the trash bin yesterday morning:

THAT story began here.

Ethical Twitter Marketing Practices

Contradictory is this title.

Lately I'm getting followers on Twitter who have MLM this and MLM that in their Twitter bios. Or "How to increase your followers".

Come on, tweeps - the internet is becoming one big mega mall.

How about we return to the origins of the internet - information sharing and only information sharing.

And not having to worry about marketing ethics.

Perspective

Seen on Twitter today:

"90 people get the swine flu and everybody wants to wear a mask. A million people have AIDS and no one wants to wear a condom..."

Rear-End First

Get your mind out of the gutter.

Will someone please tell me what the trait is, that makes people insist on backing-in to parking spaces? Is it a desire to be a trucker? Or do they need to make a fast getaway?

It's always a front-end first person that has to wait for-ev-er for the dimwit rear-end-first parker to manipulate his (typically) too-large-for-the-spot vehicle to back into said space.

Maybe there's a Freudian reason for the behaviour.

Sitting here in a national supermarket chain parking lot, after having jusr repaired something, I'm doing my call clusure "stuff" with my driver's side door open. A honk scares the bejesus out of me as a mullet is trying to back up his shoddy-looking pickup - diagonally, no less - next to my truck.

Why the hell is he...

Wait! Mullet?

Ahhhhh...

Opposable Thumbs To Infinity And Beyond

There's a reason God chose not to give cats opposable thumbs, but until you've seen a polydactyl cat, you wonder if He might have forgotten His rule: Cat Found with 26 Toes

Stupid Switch

My back has been killing me lately. Started Sunday whilst moving some boxes from the driveway into the garage. One such box was over-packed and thus too heavy, but I didn't realize that until my back reminded me it was there.

Ibuprofen, Lortab, and some muscle relaxants have done little to quell the pain, though the OTC heat wraps do the best job at dulling the pain. Go figure.

As in the past, it'll just take time for whatever is pinched, stretched, or otherwise sore to go away.

And when it does, that little switch in my brain will reset - you know the one. It's the Stupid Switch^® that makes you forget how much something hurts.

When you're Stupid.

Got Ourselves A Convert

Generally speaking, I don't proselytize my beliefs. Provided I would even be able to come up with one.

One thing I do believe, is that Guinness is the nectar of the gods, and I'm willing to share that with anyone who will listen. I've tried over the course of the last few years to at least get Jenn or Chris to at least take a sip. But they have that all-too-familiar belief that any dark beer is going to taste nasty.

Yes, tis true, most are quite nasty. Until you've tasted Guinness, that is.

One person I was extolling the virtues of Guinness to has been Dave "from the office". He's not so much a teetotaler as just someone who doesn't imbibe that often. But when he's on a "business trip" as he's been last week and this, he finally had the opportunity to have some real Guinness - from a tap no less.

You have not lived until you've had a draft Guinness.

Allow me to paraphrase his reaction as he told me over the phone last week: "OH-MY-GOD."

Yup. Nectar of the gods.

TwitScoop

I haven't yet decided if I want to put the following in a sidebar on my blog:



Readers?

NASCAR vs. Nascar

Is it blasphemy to write "Nascar"? No, according to the New York Times:

Consistent, Sensitive and Weird

Microsoft's Profit Sinks 32%

Just wow:

Microsoft's profit sinks 32% - Apr. 23, 2009

Nine Words Women Use

1. Fine: This is the word women use to end an argument when they are right and you need to shut up.

2. Five Minutes: If she is getting dressed, this means a half an hour. Five minutes is only five minutes if you have just been given five more minutes to watch the game before helping around the house.

3. Nothing: This is the calm before the storm. This means something, and you should be on your toes. Arguments that begin with nothing usually end in fine.

4. Go Ahead: This is a dare, not permission. Don't Do It!

5. Loud Sigh: This is actually a word, but is a non-verbal statement often misunderstood by men. A loud sigh means she thinks you are an idiot and wonders why she is wasting her time standing here and arguing with you about nothing. (Refer back to #3 for the meaning of nothing.)

6. That's Okay: This is one of the most dangerous statements a women can make to a man. That's okay means she wants to think long and hard before deciding how and when you will pay for your mistake.

7. Thanks: A woman is thanking you, do not question, or Faint. Just say you're welcome.

8. Whatever: Is a women's way of saying F@!K YOU!

9. Don't worry about it, I got it: Another dangerous statement, meaning this is something that a woman has told a man to do several times, but is now doing it herself. This will later result in a man asking "What's wrong?" For the woman's response refer to #3.

*Share this with the men you know, to warn them about arguments they can avoid if they remember the terminology.

*Share this to all the women you know to give them a good laugh, cause they know it's true.

It's All In The Delivery

Lunch time. Parking lot of an Arby's. Listening to NPR.

They're saying that people are moving less than they have in sixty years, according to the US Census.

The guest speaking now says that you can actually tell where people move to, depending on certain criteria:

"Rich people move one way, poor people move another." He then added a couple other examples with "Democrats more here... and more educated people move there."

What's that, you say?

Freudian slip of sorts?

Rich, poor, then Democrat, smart?

Good comparison, there.

Detroit Woman's Underwire Bra Deflects Bullet

Detroit woman's underwire bra deflects bullet

Recommended For Children?

Cow Magnets!

Cow Magnet at Steve Spangler Science

Why? Thought it would be a good first step in trying to figure out the intricacies of making cylindrical shapes in PhotoShop, and remembered the cow magnets I saw when I was much younger. MUCH younger.

Back in the day, my Mom and Dad and I lived in what had been a farming area; cow magnets were buried in the dirt everywhere.

So while doing a GIS for the magnets, found the above link for actual cow magnets.

And they're even recommended for children!

The Joys Of Home Ownership

Late yesterday afternoon, after Taylor asked if I had done anything to the internet, snide remarks aside, I replied that I had not.

"What's wrong?"

"The patch for WoW stopped in mid-download."

(He didn't actually say that, but that was the paraphrased version.)

I'd just been Tweeting seconds before, and now that he's said that, I found that, yes, the internet was indeed "down".

A trip to the basement where all things electronic and computer things lay, it was eerily quiet. But the lights were on. Sherman and Molly scattered as I dove under a table to find the UPS off.

Not a good sign.

A mad dash to the circuit breaker panel, and a long-forgotten project leapt back into my mind. I had never gotten around to marking the circuit breakers and where they go.

Note to self - get over to Home Depot and get that tester that helps identify such things.

It was all for naught, however - none of the breakers were tripped. But the puzzling thing was that the lights were on, and that circuit is from the same breaker as the power for the basement equipment.

Though panic had not yet set in, I moved the UPS power cord to the socket above it, and the lights re-appeared on the UPS. Power button? Check. Database server power? Check. Router, cable modem, WAP? Check, check, and check.

So maybe the wires have come loose from the other socket.

Must - buy - circuit - breaker - tester.

BTW - are YOUR breakers marked?

Everything I Learned About Marketing

...I learned from Susan Boyle:

From Advertising Age.

She Named Her Kid Dante

She named her kid Dante and she's worried about the Cantina scene from Star Wars? Wait until the kid starts reading his name in other... books.

The Mommy Files : When are kids old enough to watch Star Wars?