Version One (Of Anything)

Years ago - the stone age - there was a laser printer I got fairly good at repairing. Made by Hewlett Packatd, it was called the (drumroll):

LaserJet

Not a II, or III, or 4 (why they switched from Roman to Arabic is beyond me), or 5 or....

Anyway.

There was no LaserJet I, though now it's implied that a LaserJet by itself is a ONE.

So I was sent an email today containing a link to a really great video about Web 2.0. We're all living Web 2.0 - even right this second, as you are reading my blog, a product of Web 2.0, as is this video:

Click To Play

One thing that still puzzles me is that there's really never any comment about Web 1.0. When was that? WHEN did Web 1-dot-anything turn into Web two-dot-everything else?

Does anyone really remember Web 1.0?

I'm betting that most of you don't remember - but I do. I was there. OK, not of the "Al Gore Invents The Internet" style, but of the plain-Jane static website. The only interaction between myself and the viewers of my site was a link to "Guestworld", the ubiquitous "Sign our Guestbook" link of the mid-90's.

Ah, the 90's - when THE thing to have on your site were garish colors and BLINK tags. To wit: [Note that if you're using Internet Explorer, you won't see the blinking effect. Be thankful.]

BLINKING TEXT

Again, anyway.

The video shown above is quite worth watching. The analogies of the "current" web with blogging and sharing references versus watching Gilligan's Island are well worth your time.

Thanks, Jenn. And, yes, the presenter does have many of my mannerisms!

I Suddenly Have A Craving For An Omelet

...and wheat toast.

I'd always thought the following restaurant scene was from "Easy Rider". But when I saw Easy Rider last year again for the first time, I realized that it wasn't that movie.

So what movie IS it from?

Tonight, while perusing the available movies on demand from Comcast, there it was - a Jack Nicholson movie with a plot line of "Restaurant etiquette". From "Five Easy Pieces".

Enjoy!

And The Results Are In...

That "badge" over there says a lot - I was one of the finalists in SEObySwaby's "Utah's Top Blogger" competition!

So what if I didn't "win" - I got second place! Besides, it gives me bragging rights! Many thanks to all of you who voted for my blog!

Next year, folks, I'm going to try for more than 16%. I've got some surprises to share in the next year that will take my blog through the roof!

Tell all your friends to visit. It's gonna be a helluva year!

Too many exclamation points?!

How Men And Women Buy Shoes

Burglary Reported In North America

No, really.

Coconuts

As we all learned from Tom Hanks in Cast Away, the chemical makeup of coconuts combine to form a natural laxative.

Such is just one of the lowly coconut's many magical properties, or, more appropriately, coconut oil.

It is, quite honestly, a mirical cure for just about anything.

While the laxative properties are yet to be seen by yours truly, when consumed in excess, the reverse is true. In epic proportions.

We have a jar of coconit oil in the house. Or at least we did until last night. That's when we found it on the floor in the bedroom, its top mysteriously missing.

We'd just been discussing a peculiar fact that Bambi had gotten into something or other and was hurking all over the house. That's when Marilee spotted the jar.

Coconut oil, supplied in said jars, has a peculiar quality, in that it needs no refrigeration; there's no chance of the stuff going rancid. What's more, it has a waxy feel, until one either melts it in a pan for cooking, or when it's used as a moisturizer - this is why it was in the bedroom. Previously it had been atop the microwave, sitting ready for use.

That Bambi found the jar on Marilee's nightstand wasn't surprising, nor was her interest in the substance.

We wondered just how long it would take for her to get all that fat out of her system - at a quarter-to-four this morning and hurking sounds from under the covers the answer was at hand.

Not yet.

Mormons Exposed

She said "You have to look up 'Mormon Muffins'".

So I did.

An ad for an upcoming news report had just appeared on the local Fox affiliate, KSTU.

Here's the link: Mormon Muffins

You wanna bet this won't be covered on certain church-owned media?

When The Sh!t Hits A Bladeless Fan

James Dyson's latest invention: bladeless fan

Intetrnational

OK, admit it, you do look at web ads. That you don't click on many is obvious.

But of the ones you do read, do you ever sense that no one - at the development level - ever reads their own ads?

Case in point:



Yes, that really does say "INTETRNATIONAL".

Flowcharting Which Religion To Follow

Found this gem on another website.

Of course I had to share:

Fark Photoshop Entry

Sounded simple enough - Photoshop this center punch:

[Note: On Fark.com, "Photoshop" is used as a verb.]

MY take on the center punch:

No prizes for whomever gets the most "votes", as it is all in fun.

Bragging rights aren't so bad, either.

Late Night Service Call

Brilliantly stimulating conversation late this evening with a couple of convenience store employees. Yes, it was a service call. And no, this isn't about work. You know what I mean.

While it is painful to be away from home on service calls such as this, there are distinct advantages - typically, there are fewer customers, and those who do drift in at all hours of the night make you realize just how tough it is to be "on the other sife of the counter".

Because it is, truly, a different world.

Be happy.

Who's Making The Tuna Helper?

That was just asked by Marilee.

Directed towards me.

Can you guess?

Wagan Twin USB / DC Cupholder Adapter

This looked too good not to share.

On occasion, the "kids" will go on a road trip and borrow my 12 volt inverter to keep their phones charged whilst on the road. Since the trips (usually) occur when I'm not on call and in need of keeping my own phone charged, it's never a problem.

But when I saw the following in an email from Cyberguys, I knew I'd found a better answer to their needs:

It's from Cyberguys - and on sale, too, at only $11.99:

Wagan Twin USB / DC Cupholder Adapter

It Had To Be Bob

Why in hell did the Enzyte guy have to be called Bob?

Until the fall of 1972 I was Rob or Robert. Mostly Rob, since that's what my family called me. It wasn't until Mrs. Achor at Tustin High called me Bob that the name stuck. And it could be confusing at times, particularly if friends from school would be in close proximity to family. Robs and Bobs were freely exchanged and confusing at times. At least there was only one of me.

When I was thrust into the workaday world in 1976 after high school, my first job at MSI Data Corporation found me in a sea of Bob's. There was Bob Hughes, Bob Kappelin, Bob Toker, Bob Brannon, and me, Bob DeLong. At least for the short term, when someone yelled "BOB!", it wasn't for me. But that soon changed, for the better.

But back to being a Bob...

Why couldn't that one movie have been called "What About Frank"? Or "What About George"? That there was a movie in 2006 called "What About Brian" suggests Hollywood being entirely out of ideas is probably a good bet, but still. At the time, "What About Bob" turned my life into a living hell.

There's Bob the Builder. Microsoft didn't help with Microsoft Bob. Hurricane Bob made an appearance in 1991.

And who could forget SpongeBob Squarepants.

I'm in good company - some famous Bob's are: Bob Barker, Buffalo Bob Smith, Bob Costas, Bob Cummings, Bob Denver, Bob Dole, Bob Dylan, Bob Eiger, Bob Elliot, Bob Eubanks, Bob Hope, Bob “Captain Kangaroo” Keeshan, Bob Mackie, Bob Newhart, Bob Saget, Bob Vila, Bob Balaban, Bob Schieffer. The list goes on...

I just wish there's weren't so many pop-culture references.

Tekzilla

Catchy name. One of those made-up words that makes you wonder if all the good names were taken. Right up there during that time in American history where every cool-sounding word had to have "A-RAMA" tacked on the end. "Wonder-A-Ama". "Scout-A-Rama". "Chuck-A-Rama".

OK, not so much Chuck-A-Rama.

Tekzilla is a geek show. About geeks. For geeks. BY geeks. Available in several formats, I first was made aware of it on the TiVo. Downloaded a few episodes and got hooked. Now it's a daily thing with their Tekzilla Daily and the weekly half-hour-or-so Thursday show.

Marilee doesn't seem to mind - she usually takes control of the remote collection.

But the fact that I had to find out about Tekzilla on the TiVo is sad, since I probably would never have found out about Tekzilla any other way. Time was, during downtime at "that which I do for a living" - read my job - I would go out and search for things such as Tekzilla, and by association, Revision3. Sadly, that's not the case any more, since in the current incarnation of my job, there is no downtime. Or at least from a theoretical perspective.

So I get my geek fix from the TiVo. And Tekzilla.

Crunch, Crunch, Crunch

Morning at the DeLong household. Very early.

Bambi and Lexie are wandering around the family room where I'm checking out what's new on the TiVo. It's still dark - outside as well as in; I don't turn the lights on this early since the glow can be disconcerting up in the bedroom where Marilee still is sleeping.

The two dogs have already been potty. So other than hanging out with me, there's nothing much for them to do. But then...

Crunch, Crunch, Crunch

It's not a sound I'm unfamiliar with, just that it's not heard that often in the early morning. Most often though, it's from morsels of dog food not eaten during the previous evening's meal. But it kept going, and going, and...

As I peered around the corner of the coffee table, where the sound was coming from, I didn't expect to see Lexie eating out of Bambi's bowl, but there she was. Bambi was sitting behind her with a look of "How did I miss that food" or maybe it was "I could bite your head off at any moment, you little sh!t". Not sure which.

What's peculiar, though, was that there was any food left in the bowl to begin with. Bambi would just as soon eat herself to the bursting point and beyond if we let her. And that Lexie found it before Bambi is the mysterious part.

This afternoon, I notice all the food is gone from Bambi's bowl. I'm guessing she's not going to let that happen again.

Who Is Living In The Basement?

Someone just came upstairs from the basement and is doing a load of laundry. Marilee and I looked at each other, looked around the room, centered back on each other...

"This is the first time in his life he is doing something without being told to do so" was Marilee's only reaction.

We think it was Taylor, but we're not quite sure.

Catalog!

Thus I exclaimed as I brought in the afternoon mail just now. Marilee immediately turned on the light next to her chair.

She loves getting catalogs. Jenn is always hanging on the them for her; not necessarily to order anything, just to look. Like when she watches House Hunters on HGTV for the looky-loo factor, she inhales the contents of catalogs for the window shopping experience.

I'd just tossed the catalog on her lap, and started laughing. It was a catalog from Cyberguys.

I wasn't surprised, then, when I was summarily hit in the face with said catalog.

I had to smile. "Oh, that matters?"

I'm A Bad Influence

Just ask Marilee.

I was in California - mentally, I always pronounce California in a thick Austrian accent - for three weeks and Marilee had no cravings for Pink Cookies, chocolate-chocolate donuts, or ice cream drumsticks.

Now that I'm back, I'm wondering if her fatigue related problems she's been having are directly related to the lack of said goodies.

Must. Do. Research.

Negative reaction from Jennifer in 3... 2... 1...

Do They Think We Don't Pay Attention?

You have to wonder if mainstream media thinks of us - read consumers - as unwilling backwoodsy folk who don't pay attention to details.

Tonight on CNN's website is this headline:

CNNMoney: Target halves toy prices for holidays

From the actual headline of the article:

Target slashes toy prices 50% for the holidays

But within the actual article:

"Discount retailer Target is offering up to half off of popular toys like Barbie and Fisher Price to lure bargain hunters this holiday season".

Maybe it's just me, but dragging consumers - read us - into an article with beliefs of such massive gratification as half off every toy in their stores, but only offering the deals on a small portion of their inventory and not even meeting fifty percent on that small portion is deceiving.

Wonder what CNN's kickback is?

Strangely Cool Google App

From ZXing ("Zebra Crossing"), a Google Code sample that generates barcodes. The barcode at right is my blog's URL. From ZXing's page, one can generate most anything, from plain text to all of your contact information. Strangely cool.

Useful? Probably not so much, at least from this perspective. But for developers, likely a godsend.

When A Site Goes Down

Wish I could get some of that lost revenue while dooce is was down.

Just sayin'.

Fifteen Minutes Of Mainstream Media

This morning, I was looking for a simple definition of mainstream media for a post I was thinking about writing. The post was to be a carryover from something a good friend told me about a year ago, regarding mainstream writing.

While trying to find supportive prose for my post, I found an incomplete entry at Wikipedia that sounded a bit too dated; after scrolling a bit further, found that NPR had done a piece about the topic yesterday.

Fate?

The entry at NPR's website is here - listen and/or read along:

No More 'Mainstream Media'? : NPR

Fashion Reaches A New Low

Snuggie on the catwalk, from Time.

Back From So California

So California actually refers to some sort of advertising campaign in California. As in "It is so California".

So true.

I brought home several mementos: a watch for Marilee that my Mom had once owned and an Onyx elephant Marilee's Mom could no longer lift to dust under.

Other items were scratcher lottery tickets for Marilee.

And me? I brought home for myself some kind of intestinal bug. Without going into too much detail and bordering on too much information, let's just say the outcome is what my Dad called the Back Door Trots.¹

I've been napping profusely this weekend, but I'm not sure if that's because of the bug or from too much information clogging my brain from my training classes.

All I know for certain is that I'm happy to be home to family.

¹ That my Dad lived through a time when outhouses were the norm, you can use your own imagination what Back Door Trots were about.

Education Update

For the last two-and-a-half weeks, I've been studying profusely. Taking copious notes. Staying up later and later each night. Bleary-eyed in the morning...

OK, that's not entirely true. OK, it's all false.

NO studying, NO note taking, NO NOTHING.

Reminded me of high school.

So what happened in my training class for work? The unexpected.

Not only did I pass, but I passed near the top, with an overall score of 92%.

Holy crap. I actually learned something. At my advanced age.

Who knew?

Do You Have A Fever?

Are you sure?

98.6 Degrees Is Not Normal

From Divine Caroline

Olympic Fete

I'm really surprised I haven't heard anything about this yet. Then again, maybe I haven't really looked hard enough. Probably the latter.

Say what you will about Michelle Obama's visit to Denmark to show her support for Chicago as a contender for the 2016 Olympic Games. After all, she is from Chicago. That her husband is also from Illinois isn't much of a topic, except that he's also the President of the United States.

While I don't want this to turn into a lesser of two evils diatribe, consider the alternative:

Would YOU want Rod Blagojevich speaking on behalf of the United States of America?

Didn't think so.

Call Me "Uncategorized"

I guess you can call me in a category all by myself. Or so it seems.

Just making a clickable list of Utah's Top Bloggers - that means you can vote for me without having to type in my blog address - is really cool.

The other advantage, of course, is that even more folks will be sure to visit. Thus increasing my exposure. Thus...

Well, you get the idea.

Anyway, a hearty welcome goes out to my new readers. Hang out for a while - there's much to see!

How To Tell If You Live In A Small Town

The Ongoing Highway 11/64 Controversy

From Tennessee

Utah's Top Bloggers

Yeah, I know there's a snowball's chance in St. George that the poll at Seo by Swaby's Utah's Top Bloggers will even acknowledge that my blog exists.

But I can dream, can't I?

Ask your friends to come by my blog and then vote for me. If you wish. No pressure.

Or I'll write about you like a local newspaper.

Every Day Is A Gift

Saturday, my cousin Kirk and I were having a brilliantly stimulating conversation on the patio at his Mom's house (my Aunt Mary Lou). The topic didn't much matter; this was just two old friends getting together for meaningful conversation. And there was some general bs in there, too, I must admit.

He related an occasion where he'd been at the mall. Just ahead of him was an elderly couple who were having difficulty completing their transaction at a checkout; all they wanted to do at this store was to buy some stamps.

Because of the delay, there was plenty of time to take in what was going on ahead of him.

The woman was in a wheelchair, and was obviously an invalid. The man, apparently her husband, was essentially using her wheelchair as a walker. How these two souls got around was a mystery - God forbid one of them had to drive, let alone how the Missus got out of her wheelchair.

When it came time to pay for their transaction, the time spent for the man to extricate his wallet from his trousers and then the money could have been measured in glacial terms.

All this time, Kirk is beside himself. The day wasn't going along particularly well, and this was adding to the frustration of the day. But this isn't a story about Kirk, rather, it's about the events that were about to unfold.

After paying for his purchase, and having been given the stamps, the woman reached out with her frail hand and snatched the stamps out of his. Returning his wallet to his pocket was equally as painful as getting it out. And after having done so, and turning back round to the teller, at once did not know where the stamps had disappeared to.

The teller had been witness to all of this as well, and reassured the man "Your wife has that under control."

After they turned to walk away - rather, wheel and shuffle - Kirk then made his transaction and had caught up to them before they had left the store.

Directly ahead of the couple was a greeting card rack where, on a card smack dab in the front, was a picture of a scantily-clad girl. The Missus, seeing the intent gaze of her husband, muttered a comment of disgust. Kirk was privy to this outburst - he was now abreast of the couple. The man turned to Kirk, and...

Kirk said he wishes he would have had a camera at that moment. To have captured the greatest smile that has ever been smiled. For the man had an ear-to-ear grin that said volumes about life. About how Kirk felt he had just been kicked in the face, having just been told that all your problems are minuscule.

Because the man had turned to Kirk and smiled that smile, and said:

"Young man, every day is a gift."

Indeed.

Absolutely Hilarious Bathroom Mirror Prank

Priceless!



From Break.com

Time

The time difference is really getting to me.

"Wait, Bob, there's only a one-hour difference between Utah and California. If you're bs-ing about just one hour..."

No, not that time difference.

Poking away on the laptop last evening, I had "Dancing With The Stars" on in the background for noise. Tom Bergeron was droning away, and I figured I'd go to bed after the show was over. Then it suddenly dawned on me: prime-time in California ends at 11:00pm on the West Coast.

As I mentioned previously, I don't do eleven.

Hell, I don't even do ten all that well.

Since DWTS is on three times this week, and all are marathon events, I wasn't going to see sleep for a while. After having a constitutional at that moment of enlightenment, thankfully noticed it was only 9pm.

I was in bed at 9:30.

No, it's not jet lag since I drove, but still.

Get me outta here!

Diversity

I'm homesick.

On this trip, Marilee and I have been apart longer than any time in the last five years. I miss her laugh, her smirk, her... everything. And while I could just stop there, I have to add more.

I long for open space. Seeing Huntington Beach along Pacific Coast Highway on Sunday helped a little, but was short-lived, as afterwards I went south a bit more to Newport Beach.

Twenty-some-odd years ago when I lived in Newport, we were virtually across the street from the beach. Late at night you could even hear the waves crashing on the sand. The place where I lived was still there, on the corner of 32nd Street and Balboa Blvd. But the crush of people even then, was stifling. I reminded myself why we'd moved from there - the crowds were just too great. Now all of Orange County is that way.

I've seen more of humanity in the last week than I have in the last year in Utah. While the population of Utah is about two million, that's spread out over 84,899 square miles; the population of Orange County, CA is three million within just 948 square miles.

Driving down Valley View street on the way to the school I'm attending, I have several times hit the Bott's Dots dividing the lanes. Not that I'm drifting all that much - I am driving the Silverado while I'm down here - but there are three lanes on that street that in Utah would have just two lanes.

The freeways are just as bad, but the saving grace is that the drivers are much more forgiving. After all, they're not Utah drivers. You know who you are.

I can handle the cultural diversity, but the population count is just a bit too much. There are just too many people. And I can't wait until I get back home to Utah.

Because the longer I stay here, diverse it's going to get.

The Greatest Human Being?

The greatest human being - who ever lived - has died. And you've probably never heard of him.



Article at The Globe and Mail".

What's Wrong With This Plan?

NOTHING IS WRONG WITH THIS PLAN! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?!

Haute Cuisine

Thus far on my California travels, I've been to Sizzler, Chili's, Mrs. Knott's Chicken Dinner Restaurant, the breakfast bar in the hotel-supplied [company name deleted] meeting room, and the [company name deleted] break room for lunch last week.

And McDonald's for breakfast just now.

Yesterday afternoon, Marilee called and asked where I was. "On the way to McDonald's."

"YOU ARE NOT GOING TO COME HOME WITH CLOGGED ARTERIES."

"OK, OK, I'll go somewhere else."

So I went to Mrs. Knott's. Not really haute cuisine, but definitely not your standard Utah fare. KFC just doesn't cut it in that department.

Even my instructor chastised me when he asked, after the first day, where we had all gone for dinner the previous evening.

"Sizzler" said I.

"You can go to Sizzler in Utah!"

Maybe, but we really don't go out. Much. Sure, at least one day per weekend we do McDonald's breakfast - funny, no mention is ever made of artery-clogging - but cuisine isn't a topic that comes up.

Besides, I've already begun to get a bit homesick, if only because I'm tiring of going out to dinner. I wouldn't mind some home cooking. Marilee: "We had spaghetti last night." Mmmm. Spaghetti.

You can have your cuisine, haute or otherwise.

Because what I need is comfort food.

Maybe It's The Altitude

...or lack thereof.

So this last week I've been getting up at my usual time - for Utah. Yup. Well, at least if it were Utah. My circadean clock is right on time, as I've been getting up at five AM. Unfortunately, that's FOUR AM in California. Also unfortunately, I've been going to bed at 10pm. Which, if you're getting the gist of this, is ELEVEN in Utah.

I don't do ELEVEN.

And if all the math is taken into account, that makes for SIX hours of sleep. No wonder I've been having droopy eyelid syndrome. Six hours isn't enough for this 52-year-old man. Nobody likes it when Bob is sleep-deprived.

So on this first day of quiet - i.e., not a classmate to be seen - I decided to go sight-seeing shopping.

Went to Fry's today - WHY AREN'T THERE FRY'S STORES IN UTAH?! Picked up a USB hub for all the USB crap I brought with me. And considering I just got an external 500G USB drive - more on that later - that hub is getting a bit of extra use.

And called my sister whom I've not seen - or talked to - in a dozen or so years. Likely more on that later, too.

So I get back to the hotel around 4pm. There's nothing much on TV, and decide to take a nap.

OH. MY. GOD.

♫ A three-hour-nap. A three-hour-nap. ♫

So if it's not the altitude, maybe it's the attitude.

Quantifying Customer Service

I like to think that I provide exceptional customer service. I've been doing that for thirty some-odd-years. Some things were learned by doing; if one approach didn't produce a good outcome, I'd use some other process the next time. And perfected - at least in my little world - my craft of treating each customer they way they expected to be treated.

But did I ever really think about the way I did it? Hardly. It just all turned out that way. But I never really thought about it; it was just something I was good at.

So this week in school, we've been doing coursework titled "Through the Customer's Eyes". It a seminar of sorts produced by the Rockhurst University Continuing Education Center. The focus is exactly what I've been doing for three decades. So one might think this should be a breeze. On the contrary, it's been difficult for me, if only because I've never had to be tested on the course matter.

When I complete the testing, I'll be certified to do what I've always had a knack for.

Making customers happy.

Los Angeles & San Francisco

That would be the Dodgers vs. the Giants.

Every year, my family would spend part of our summer vacation in Pismo Beach, CA. Oh, the clam chowder. And the slot car track around the corner from the SeaWall motel.

OK, so there wasn't really much else to do in Pismo Beach, other than swimming in the oh so cold Pacific Ocean. The salt water smell was overpowering. Memories only suggest it was always cold and humid. Imagine.

But those were my memories, of my activities. But one thing I'll never forget is watching my Dad watching the Dodgers play the Giants.

In Dodger Stadium.

Again, this was before all sports all the time on ESPN. And blackouts. So summer vacation in Pismo Beach was always scheduled around when the Giants were in Los Angeles. And due to the location of the motel, the TV signal was from the bay area.

Every year we did that, even after my Mom died. It got to be that I'd even know when we were going.

That last time we both went together in about 1972, I'd just gotten my own fishing pole, and even caught a fish all by myself. Somewhere there's a picture of me with my prize catch, a three-inch-long red snapper I should have thrown back, but didn't know any better.

Getting back to the motel, there was my Dad.

Watching the Dodger game.

More Dodger Memories

That Vin Scully always was who we listened to in those wondrous days of yore was one thing, but we hardly ever listened to Jerry Doggett¹. Why? Vin Scully just had that special talent for knowing when to provide play by play, and when to just let the picture describe the action.

Even on the radio.

When the Dodgers were on TV - remember, this was in the days before 24-hour sports channels - we'd listen to Vinnie for the first three innings on the TV. Then the sound was turned down for innings 4 through 6, and the last three on TV again.

Of course, there were times when we'd be away from home - the game just seemed to take on an extra intensity when the voice of the Dodgers was on the radio.

¹I was just a kid back then, and was always wanting to be like my Dad - so if I've offended anyone about my references to Jerry Doggett, I apologize.

Dulcet Dodger Dialog

Tuesday evening television. Watching KCAL Channel 9. The Dodgers were playing the Pirates.

Suddenly, without warning, memories of childhood popped into my head. Of traveling to Elysian Park to see the Dodgers. Mornings of getting ready to go, searching for my mitt. Can't go to a Dodger game without it. "Just once, I want to catch a line drive into the first base bleachers." Afternoons of driving the seemingly short distance to Chavez Ravine. Distance and time have no meaning when you're a kid. You're going to a Dodger game!

One such afternoon, my Dad, THE Dodger fan of the family, remarks as we park the car that it sounds like the announcer on the PA system is the one on the radio. This is the 60's, and everyone has a transistor radio. And everyone is listening to KFI. So loud is the roar from all those tinny speakers that it even drowns out the real PA announcer.

We also had brought our portable radio, and it, too, was tuned to the game. Sure, we were there to see the Dodgers, but also to listen to the game. Because the only way to experience a Dodger game was in this fashion.

So as those memories were flooding into my consciousness, something seemed strangely familiar. There, emanating from the big-screen TV, some thirty years since I'd last heard it, there it was.

Vin Scully, now in his eighties, is still announcing Dodger games.

I don't know what happened in the game - all I did for the remainder of the time was to just listen.

Listen to the dulcet tones of Vin Scully

Tap Tap Tap - Is This Thing On?

So he goes to California, leaving the masses to fend for themselves. And doesn't post anything new for three days.

And in my absence, who is going to lambast the local newspaper? Guess you'll have to read it yourself - just think "What would Bob interpret this as" while doing so. It's easy.

I made it safely to California early last evening, pulling in to the hotel's parking lot at 7pm. Long drive. Hadn't done that in a good number of years. But considering I drove 900-plus miles last week - plus a drive for Marilee and I Sunday afternoon to Mirror Lake - I was ready for it.

If not a bit tired.

Today begins a new chapter, learning about products I'd really rather not know about, but I like my job.

Let me rephrase that.

I like being employed.

Don't Drag Bigotry Into The Discussion

From an article in today's Deseret News:

"Deseret News editor Joe Cannon's decision to speak during a conservative program focused on "the importance of marriage" has drawn criticism from some and questions from others, but Cannon insists the engagement does not cross any ethical boundaries."

Also from the article:

"Glen Feighery, an assistant professor who teaches media ethics at the University of Utah, said Cannon's involvement in the event could plant seeds of doubt about the newspaper impartiality.

"It comes down to expectations," Feighery said. "It might send confusing messages if he appears at an institute that has a political point of view. Maybe people would wonder if he's there to talk about journalism or is he there to ... rally support for those views."

The article prompted several online comments; one such stands out, from a user calling himself "uncannygunman":

"I'm just like Joe Cannon, I'll speak to anyone, anytime. But if I speak the the Ku Klux Klan, my speech is largely going to be a condemnation of everything the Klan stands for. Similarly, if I were to speak to a convention of anti-gay activists, I would be reminding them of the error of their ways."

I commented on that comment; since the comments section of the Deseret News is moderated, I'm guessing my comment will be summarily deleted. But still, these are my words:

"So, uncannygunman, with a user name like that, I guess one can surmise what you'd say at a gun control rally. Or basically anything that affects everyone. At issue is what Joe Cannon says about his - and by association, the Deseret News - homophobia. Don't drag bigotry into the discussion, though I'm sure that topic has been covered ad nauseum in the Deseret News. And by association, by Joe Cannon."

Open the floodgates.

California Bound

In my book, any time spent away from work is a vacation. Treating weekends as mini vacations, for example, make those two days out of every seven that much more appreciated.

So, while the next 2 ½ weeks will be spent away from my normal grind in Utah, I will be "on the clock" - only I'll be in California.

Work is sending me to school.

But to call it a vacation?

Hey, it's California!

The View From Above

True story:

I'd gone to California a few years ago for my Uncle Gene's memorial service. Flew down to San Diego; my cousin knew I was coming, but we hadn't told anyone else, including my Aunt Mary Lou. So it was a major surprise when Cousin Erin drove my Aunt to the airport and there I was coming down the hall.

Anyway.

I had a layover in Phoenix on the way back to Utah; after getting into the air, the flight was virtually "as the crow flies" - due north. Never even felt the plane bank, and didn't even have to circle Salt Lake International. Smoothest flight I'd ever been on.

As I always fly with a window seat, there's always a chance I'd get crowded out by a seat mate, and I did on that flight.

By two friars. Really.

So as we flew along, the younger of the two Franciscan types asked what the rock formations were, down below. We'd been flying for a while by then, and as I looked down, I said "Oh, that's Bryce Canyon."

At least it looked like Bryce Canyon.

A while later, there again were formations of the red variety, and again the question was asked what it was. As I looked down, I said "Oh. I guess the ones we saw before were in Sedona, Arizona. That's Bryce Canyon."

He didn't ask again about the geography so far below.

So what prompted all that? Heather Armstrong has, in a post today, a photo from aboard an airplane and the immortal words "...At least, I think this is Lake Mead."

Turns out I'm not the only one geographically-challenged. At least from above.

Oh Nine Oh Nine Oh Nine

Whether you believe it or not, the world should have ended yesterday. Since you're reading this, the world did not end.

Obviously.

The doom-mongers were all over this - this article from beyond the pond is one such - that on the 9th day of the 9th month in the 9th year, the world would end.

I suppose that if you're into numerology, you could also flip 999 on its head and get 666, but that's probably a stretch.

Besides, if the 9th-9th-9th rule were true, the world should also have ended on September 9, 1909.

Guess not.

Behold The Power Of Twitter

How Twitter almost killed Bob Barker

Best. Cat. Video. Ever.

Big box and Maru:

Why Is Everyone Pissed About This Message?

Would anyone have had a problem with:

"You can’t drop out of school and just drop into a good job. You’ve got to work for it and train for it and learn for it."

...if John Kennedy had said it?

...if Lyndon Johnson had said it?

...if Richard Nixon had said it?

...if Gerald Ford had said it?

...if Jimmy Carter had said it?

All were presidents during my school years. I don't recall ever hearing a "stay in school" speech. Then again, there's thirty-some-odd years between then and now. And the world is a lot different than it was back then. There are likely more school dropouts now than there ever were during those decades.

That Barack Obama KNOWS the word HAS TO get out to today's children is paramount.

That some people think he shouldn't be saying ANYTHING is just plain ridiculous.

Call it what you will, but there's no justification for ANYONE to be upset about this.

From Armor Games

Another addictive game that you'll play this and tell all your friends, as I did just now:

This Is The Only Level

Enjoy!

A Day Without Cats?

Blasphemy!

But true - even the likes of NPR and the Wall Street Journal are on the bandwagon!



At least it's only for one day...

Stalk Exchange

So far, my stalk portfolio includes the Deseret News, the LDS Church, and HSN.

At least, those are the ones I know about.

After a few snarky comments about the way a certain local newspaper chooses to portray current events, my visitor tracker did indeed show that someone from that newspaper visited my blog. Several times. And the next day, a visitor from the LDS Church cemented my fate: an in-person visitor at my door the following Saturday. The ultimate result will probably be eternal damnation.

That I also commented on a ghastly ring a certain cable shopping channel was selling, sure enough, a visitor or two showed up from their site as well.

Rest assured there's plenty of love to go around.

Corporate folks are always interested in seeing what the public is saying about them. As an example, studies show that companies who use comment cards "...produce distorted information that reflects extreme responses rather than the experiences of most guests. One study found that comment cards produce results that misrepresent guest satisfaction up to 60 percent!" That report regards hotel clientele, but can be applied to just about any market where a company deals with the public.

So, too, are comments sections on websites - not everyone is going to leave a comment on a company's website, positive or negative. And while you can always call a company to voice your complaints, there's always the chance that whoever you talk to can actually do something about your problem.

Consider this exchange from dooce's Heather Armstrong during a much-ballyhooed exchange last week (from slate.com):

"Finally, during one of her many long conversations with customer service, she floated the nuclear option: "And here's where I say, do you know what Twitter is?" she wrote. "Because I have over a million followers on Twitter. If I say something about my terrible experience on Twitter do you think someone will help me?" The customer-service agent assured her that it wouldn't help; Armstrong tweeted anyway—"DO NOT EVER BUY A MAYTAG"—and by the next day, a Maytag executive was overnighting the parts she needed to get her washer fixed."

Yes, dear reader, corporate America is listening to what we're all saying. That I have just 47 followers on Twitter, and only a few hearty souls who read my blog (though my readership did rise by 500% after my snarky Deseret News comments, if only for a short time) and Heather Armstrong has a 1,000,000-plus followers, THEY are all listening, too.

May your stalks rise, too, fellow bloggers, twits, and tweeps. EVERYONE'S listening.

Article By Enness Sherlock

According to a Deseret News study of Internal Revenue tax data, Utahns "...give far more of their income to charity than any other Americans."

The article, in this morning's Deseret News, states "...Utahns reported providing $2.9 billion to charity in 2006, or 5 percent of their adjusted gross income."

Only five percent? Where's the OTHER five percent? Who's holding back?

Also, according to the article, "...while the LDS Church declined comment for this story, scholarly studies have long surmised that Utah's unusually high charitable giving is because of its high number of Mormons who live here."

Really? Who woulda thunk?

Note: Enness Sherlock is a pseudonym for No Sh!t Sherlock.

You Read It Here First

"Blogs are for twits who start thinking at 141 characters." - bobsbs

Snaggletooth

Snaggletooth just came over to the house.

Over to mow the lawn, he just announced he was going to correct the error he made long ago by not wearing his retainer, and go through the whole ordeal of aligning his teeth again.

Times have changed, though, since even I had braces - painful was all I remember.

Now, though, Snaggletooth will have "Invisalign" invisible braces.

After all is said and done, Snaggletooth will again be just Chris.

Appearances Are Everything

Matilee had a sleep study done last night at the request of her pulmonologist. She's had sleep problems in the past, and while she sleeps OK with a 4 ½ year old C-PAP machine, the doctor thinks that with newer advances that more can be done.

The study is done at a relatively quiet building that doubles as an assisted-living facility in a residential area of Salt Lake City. So it comes as no surprise that one might see someone on the grounds that doesn't necessarily have sleeping problems.

Or, as we saw when pulling into a parking space last night, awake problems.

There, in the middle of the parking lot, a woman was in a wheelchair. Her head was down, and not moving. We both looked at each other and wondered if this was what it appeared to be. But what, exactly?

A moment or two passed, and still nothing. Were we next going to barge into the facility and alert an orderly? Or rush to her aid? Or call 9-1-1 ourselves? Or...

And then she casually reached out and turned a page in the book she was reading.

Raucous laughter emanated from our car as we collected Marilee's belongings and walked - perhaps a bit wiser - into the building.

Not everything is as it appears.

Fifty-Fifty Chances

Yes or No?

Right or Left?

This or That?

In just about every situation where you have a choice to make, it'll be the correct one.

Or not.

(Don't confuse the facts if there are more than two variables. My head will asplode.)

So I've said before I WILL NOT WRITE ABOUT WORK. But THIS TIME IT'S PERSONAL.

Emergency! Computer down! Everyone drop what they're doing! The PC will not communicate! It's acting like the cables are backw...

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot.

Reported as a power failure that did not restore, this particular PC would not boot. Customer even tried rebooting it himself. Still no go.

A friggin' sixty-two mile trip.

SOMEONE, while installing a new bit o' hardware in the same rack as the one I was to work on, did not lable the cables as to what goes where. Since there's a fifty-fifty chance of getting it right, you can guess the outcome.

It was the OTHER fifty percent.

THIS Should Be An Olympic Sport

While Marilee has been healing after her surgery, she's been far less mobile than normal. Yesterday, she was feeling up to a walk around the block; I, too, after my recent ear ache and subsequent cold, felt up to it as well. That at first we couldn't find her shoes - they were still in the "Patient Belongings" bag from the hospital - was indicative that she hadn't been ambulatory if at all, other than a few laps around the back yard.

Getting her up to do that seemingly trivial task is NOTHING.

She has a doctor's appointment today at eight-ish and Chris is coming by to pick her up and drop her off, later to pick her up once again for the ride home.

Since she hasn't been to work suggests she hasn't been "on the clock" - time has no meaning when you don't have to "punch" one. And while I was spry enough to rise once the alarm clock went off, she was reluctant to do so. Several times over.

Finally, I said I was going to get a pan and bang it over her head. A groggy "mm-hmm" was all I heard and was sprinting for the kitchen.

Metal pan and spoon in hand, upon entering the bedroom, she instinctively stuck her finger in her ear and awaited the...

"THUD"

A smile was all I got.

She did eventually get up; she's in the kitchen now making a bowl of cereal.

Me? I'm exhausted and would rather go back to bed.

God Help The Human Race

Snuggie for Dogs

God help us.

Damn, It's Cold In Here

No, wait, now it's hot and I'm sweating.

Before too long, it'll get cold again.

I WISH there was something wrong with the HVAC system in the house. That would be far easier to explain.

What started out as a "simple" exercise in cleaning out my right ear has mushroomed into a full-blown "sick". A deep-down pain in my ear was where we were last Thursday. A bit o' peroxide should have been all that was necessary. BUT NO. Yours truly had to cement the issue of impacted ear wax with a too-forceful squirt from an earigator (at right).

Felt pretty good at the time, and didn't think about it again until a few hours later when I could think of nothing else. PAIN.

Did I mention PAIN?

OK, before you get all hign 'n' mighty, yes, I know that the only thing you're ever supposed to put in your ear is your elbow. Right or left, doesn't matter. Even told the doc at the Instacare on Friday after many hours of zero sleep. "So I don't have to give you a lecture?"

"No SIR". There are times when you know the damn doctor is right.

Antibiotics from within and without - read pills and drops - and Friday led into Saturday. And Sunday. And this morning, as the pain was subsiding and I could again sleep on my right ear and gain some much-needed rest, the chills started.

And now the sweats.

Which begs the question: Was the ear ache the precursor to a cold? Or worse? Or vice versa?

Feeling Particularly Old Today?

If not, this will help:

Sick Of Being Sick

My current outward appearance is that of a healthy 52-year-old male. Maybe a little overweight, but otherwise fit. My new doctor gives me a sidelong glance when I tell him that while I don't "exercise", that I do walk quite a bit during a workday. Anyway.

That I sported a bandage on my neck for a week or so after my spine surgery, that outward appearance said that, OK, this guy isn't able to work because he's "sick". And was off work for six weeks.

That Marilee's stilted gait suggests she has had some sort of body work done and has a gash across her abdomen - outwardly unseen - suggests that she, too, has a reason not to go to work, and also is "sick". And will be off for several weeks as she heals.

But my outward appearance yesterday and today does not explain why I won't be going to work today.

I've got an earache. That's ear ache. Cramming the letters together doesn't look right.

Yes, dear readers, a sickness that should only apply to an elementary-school kid. A friggin' 52-year-old.

What really sucks is that I haven't any sick or vacation time left for the remainder of the year. So I have to "make up" the time elsewhere. Which sucks even more.

Probably some antibiotics will do the trick; with all the ails this family has had this year, you'd think that just maybe there'd be some leftovers in the medicine cabinet, but that's not the case.

So off to the Instacare I go this morning. For meds. And likely bedridden for the remainder of the day since it inwardly hurts like hell.

Outwardly, I'm sick of being sick.

A Play On Words?

I've lived in three separate, yet distinct areas in Utah over the last twenty-two years: in Midvale, in Murray, and now Taylorsville. All within the confines of Salt Lake County. In other words, in the Greater Salt Lake area.

So why is it that at the downtown Smith's Marketplace (formerly known as Fred Meyer - and that's a possible story for another time) there is a sign stating that this store has been "Serving the Greater Salt Lake since 1932"?

Did we forget something there, Smith's?

More On The The Anti-Discrimination Ordinance

In today's Salt Lake Tribune is this:

Sen. Chris Buttars, a vehement gay-rights critic, doubts discrimination against gay and transgender people is a significant problem.
"I've never seen any facts. I see these wild accusations," says the West Jordan Republican. "Let's say someone is gay, but [he's] also a terrible employee -- is that possible? [He gets] fired for something else. You know the gay community is going to claim [the employer] did it because he's gay."

It's already a known fact that Chris Buttars is a bigot - Ive already commented about that in the past, as have others.

So a question then becomes, with Senator Buttars' logic as shown above, was Chris Buttars removed from his post as chairman and member of the Judicial Standing Committee due to his "black baby" remarks, because he was doing a bad job?

No, it was because he is a bigot.

But he'll have no say in the matter, since he doesn't live IN Salt Lake City. Wonder if West Jordan has such an ordinance?

Quality Clearance Stuff At HSN

Oh. My. God.

Can't imagine why it's only ten bucks.

At HSN.

Here We Go Again

From the Deseret News:

Senator Chris Buttars vs. anti-discrimination bill

Of note:

"If anybody had a right to special protection it would be Mormons; they've been persecuted but not as bad as the American Indian. But they're not pounding on the newspaper's door. Or the Jewish people; the Jewish people have lots of people hate them. I love them. But you know that's true."

Shut. The. Eff. Up.

Finally, A Reason To Join Twitter

Go here for details:

http://photofocus.com/2009/08/21/win-a-canon-5dmkii/

Homeward Bound

Marilee's coming home today!

She was doing so well yesterday afternoon that she had already taken a few laps around the floor she's on at Intermountain Medical Center. And off oxygen, too. I'd wanted to stay longer last night, but she could see the exhaustion on my face after driving to Delta, Price, and Payson. Didn't get to the hospital until 6:30pm.

Had dinner from the cafeteria - a must-try if you're in the area. Awesome selections. Tasted good too. Obviously, from Marilee's opinion, the food to the rooms doesn't come from the cafeteria!

Jenn will be assisting her home. She'd already said on numerous occasions that I should worry about work rather than worry about her. But - But - But...

But it's my JOB to worry about her.

On The Road To Recovery

Actually, she's there now.

Marilee's surgery went well; the tumor appeared to be fibroid and not cancerous, though they do need to do some more tests on the mass.

Healthcare Update

No, not the national debate. This one hits closer to home.

Don't expect too many updates for the remainder of the week. If any.

I'll have my mind on Marilee, who will be going into surgery tomorrow - Wednesday - to remove a pelvic mass that was discovered a while back during a routine ultrasound and subsequent MRI. She's rather positive about the whole thing, and just wants to get rid of the thing. It's unknown as to what it is, or what it may even be attached to. With all the health issues she's had in the last year or so, this may well be the root cause of all of it. So it's justified that she is so positive.

Me? I'm a nervous wreck.

She has assured me that she's a tough ol' broad (her words), and everything will be all right. But it pains me so much I cannot think of anything else that life without her would be so painful. She has brought so much joy to my life. I'm "living the life" with her - she means the world to me.

She came into my life when I was desperate to have something more. More than my simple existence as a bachelor with nothing more to come home to than an empty apartment and three cats.

Now there's the hustle and bustle of a house with a mortgage and more than a few animals happy to see me when I get home from a hard day. And there's Marilee with an "I love you" as I collapse into my recliner. She's been off work for several weeks as she's been waiting for a diagnosis and waiting for the inevitable surgery date to arrive.

She'll be in the hospital for up to three days followed by several weeks of recovery time here at the house. Until she gets going again with her computer work and the "research" she so loves to do, I'll likely be off mine as well.

So - say a prayer for my lovely wife and for us as a family.

I love this family.

I love my Marilee.

Grammar Nazis

Article here:

Readers unload their grammar pet peeves

"Ending a sentence with a preposition is something up with which I will not put."

Grocery Shopping

Marilee wants me to go shopping.

At the grocery store.

I don't shop. I go to stores to buy things.

God only knows what I might bring home.

More later on this developing story.

[Update]

$129 later, I brought home enough food - OK, edible objects, I didn't say they were nutritious - for a week. Which I suppose was the point...

Digital Days

Take what you will from the photo above.

It was taken in October of 2004 when Popular Photography brought their Digital Days to Salt Lake City. It's a two day seminar with really great information, speakers galore, models to take photos of, and really fun to boot.

And prizes, too.

And they're coming to Salt Lake City again!

October 10 and 11 are the days this year. The venue for 2004 was a senior center; this year they'll be at the Marriott Salt Lake City Downtown. I suspect they'll be expecting a larger crowd.

Hope to see you there!

Answer To Tuesday's Question

Sorry, missed Thursday. I know both of you have been waiting impatiently.

The Box Elder Bug is named after the tree, not the Utah county of the same name.

Giving Bees A Buzz

From our friends across the pond is this gem:

Gardeners urged to leave out energy drinks for exhausted bees

...but since we're talking bees, the "energy drink" is bee-sized, and only amounts to sugar water.

Geez, what's next? A bee in an Edgar suit?

Box Elder Bugs

Service calls in Logan and Smithfield today. On the way down the hill towards I-15, what should happen to crawl across my windshield - on the inside - but a Box Elder bug! So with that in mind...

A quiz for you locals - no googling allowed!

What is a Box Elder bug known as, outside of Utah?

Answer Thursday...

Time And Materials

By another name, it's Parts and Labor.

But not included in that paradigm is talent.

It was the learned talent of my neurosurgeon that has left my arm virtually pain-free - virtually, since all that is now left, pain-wise, is typical old-age meltdown.

Parts? My titanium plate and four titanium screws in my neck comes to a staggering four grand. That's $4,000 for you mathemeticians. That was included in the $17,000-plus hospital bill.

But wait, there's more...

Got the bill from the neurosurgeon the other day. For his part. For his talent.

So not counting the other four doctors I saw during the initial phase of quackery, before someone was willing - and able - to pick up a scalpel and FIX THE DAMN THING, just the doctor's fee was eighteen grand. Math types: $18,000.

And if you take a stab at an estimate for all things considered - time off work (FMLA did help), pain, suffering, and the whatnot not itemized, my neck is now worth about $40,000.

Funny, there's no mention of what room service cost.

Not kidding. Meals are ordered on the phone. And yes, they call it room service.

Bot-tom Dwel-ler

A tongue-in-cheek reference has been played out - literally - in the past few months, having to do with copyright protection and how the music recording industry is prosecuting those who would copy music CD's.

Simply put, can the RIAA prosecute you for songs that get stuck in your head?

Yeah, I know - corny.

So I've had this phrase stuck in my craw for the longest time; I know what movie it's from, but haven't been able to alter its course (discourse?) and let it meander out my ear. Or something.

The phrase is from "You've Got Mail"; it's where Meg Ryan's character is explaining to Tom Hanks' character via email about someone she's met in her book-selling business; unbeknownst to her, the businessperson and e-penpal are one and the same.

In the scene, the businessperson is referred to, time and again, as the scum of the earth, one who would undermine another's bookstore for profit.

Let's see - undermine, scum of the earth...

Bot-tom dwel-ler fits quite nicely.

Will this post remove the phrase from my consciousness? Time will tell...

Pledge Drives Seem To Go On Forever

KUED and KBYU are doing televised pledge drives this weekend. Earlier this week, a presentation of John Denver and his music were heard on KUED.

Tonight, a presentation of Victor Borge's music is being aired on KBYU.

Just now, during a pledge break, Victor Borge himself made a plea for "viewers like you" to send in a donation.

"That's just not right" is all Marilee said when I commented about pledge drives going on forever - even after the artist is gone.

Victor Borge died in December 2000.

Sidewalk Supervisors

Or in this case, patio supervisors.

Chris and Taylor are over today to take the remainder of the fallen tree down to kindling.

Marilee is inclined to go out and supervise, but wanted Chris to ask her to come out.

"Chris, you're supposed to ask if I want to come out and supervise."

[crickets]

"He's lost the need for his Mom."

Some conversations you just don't cut in on.

Dogback Mountain

Forbidden Love:

forbidden love from dooce on Vimeo.

John Quincy Adams The First Twitterer?

History is what it's all about at the Massachusetts Historical Society, and they've found that John Quincy Adams' diary was just made for Twitter.

Short snippets of time - from exactly two hundred years ago - are what his diary entries are about. Which sounds just like Twitter, albeit 200 years hence.

And isn't it funny how he had the same effect as Twitter does in this time frame:

Both are Revolutionary.

John Quincy Adams' Twitter feed can be found here.

And Then There Was One

Nasty wind last night in the greater Salt Lake City area:

Last year, during a similar wind storm, this same tree - which was never the same after a lightning strike years before - had gone from five "branches" to three; last night's storm has now reduced that to one.

Each previous "break" fell only into our yard, but this time the fence directly behind the tree/bush suffered some damage:

Not sure - yet - if there's more physical damage than meets the eye. With our luck, the tree is now the only thing that's holding up the fence.

Chris has his work "cut" out for him - he's our official chainsaw operator.

My job? Dealing with the neighbor.

Joy.

Panhandling A Business Model?

So says the Downtown Alliance's Jason Mathis in today's Deseret News. "The fact is that most panhandlers are not actually homeless," Mathis said. "Essentially, panhandling is a business model where people make a significant income and divert resources away from the legitimate needs of the homeless."

The article says a new ordinance being considered by Salt Lake City would prohibit panhandling just about everywhere there are groups of people not panhandling. But "Nothing is cast in stone," said City Attorney Ed Rutan.

Really.

Making false claims about being a veteran, or homeless, or stranded, or disabled, etc., would also be dealt with. I imagine that poor soul in a parking lot asking for money for gas would also be included.

Once, in a parking lot, I was asked not once, but twice, by two different people for gas money.

I say to the first person: "Sorry, I don't have any cash." Which in all reality is usually true, as I really don't carry cash.

Second person, and now I'm a bit perturbed: "Yeah, your friend just asked for the same thing." "I'm not with him."

Yeah, suuuure.

Admittedly, those who pander to panhandlers are misdirecting their hard-earned dollars away from groups who would use those funds more efficiently rather than on a person to person basis.

And that's a much better business model.

The Wendover Times

OK, so you likely won't find The Wendover Times on your local newsstand. Unless, of course, you live in Wendover. Or rather West Wendover. West Wendover is in Nevada. Wendover is in Utah.

Wendover - west, or its eastern counterpart - is in a place colloquially referred to as somewhere near Egypt. But not out in the toolies - that's about a hundred miles to the east.

Was out that way on a service call yesterday; had to reload a PC's operating system. Not important what operating system, though it was based on Windows 2000. But what's particularly exasperating about the load is that it takes for-ev-er. Even the instructions say 15-30 minutes for any given step of the process.

So there was lots of time for wandering the 95-plus degree parking lot and listening to static on the radio.

On one such excursion, on the way back into the air-conditioned confines of the building, I glanced at the newspapers in the coin machines near the entrance. And saw this:

OK, that's not entirely true. What I saw in that coin-operated box was what's "Above The Fold". If not for that part, I would have passed by without ever seeing anything funny.

And you wouldn't be spending time reading anything here.

What was so funny? Look closer...

Hell, that's not even a fat-finger.

Had the headline for Speed Week been farther into the paper, it wouldn't have really mattered. But right on the front page?

At least they didn't call it Speed Weed.

Quite The Love Triangle?

Reported at CNN is this gem:

Ryan O'Neal is apparently so estranged from his own flesh and blood that he did not even recognize his daughter Tatum O'Neal at Farrah Fawcett's funeral.

And hit on her.

11:30 Every Morning

From the Dilbert website:

When Is News Not News?

The blurb-y headline at CNN just says "Jackson estate fight back in court". When was it not?

Honestly, I hadn't much been aware of the whole Michael Jackson affair in the last week or more. And interestingly enough, it appears CNN is also well aware that the story is losing speed. From the article:

"Rowe, who was briefly married to Michael Jackson, agreed..."

"...who was the biological father -- have been closely guarded amid much public speculation."

"...what killed Michael Jackson has been delayed indefinitely"

"...another physician, Dr. Conrad Murray, gave the drug to Jackson"

ALL OLD NEWS. Covered ad nauseum in the press over the last several weeks. The only thing those references do is just keep the story alive.

For someone who is dead.

To Crop Or Not To Crop

That is the question.

I've commented on a certain local newspaper in the past, and cannot help but do so again.

On the front page of that newspaper today is this photo:

That the crop on the photo seems to have left a ghostly hand over on the right hand side made me wonder just who was in charge of editing this day. Maybe it's my dirty mind - are you listening, DesNews? - but there's something a bit perverse in the handling of the hand. And what it is gripping.

Let it be said that Marilee saw it first. Maybe she's lived with me too long and some things have rubbed off on her.

Anyway, I wondered if I could find an earlier copy of the photo as it depicts the aftermath of the mudslide in Logan last month and what sort of crop may have been done previously.

But a trip to the DesNews website produced something I wasn't expecting. At all. The following photo graces the rolling ticker on their home page:

No ghostly hand.

It does re-appear later in the online article, but only in a gallery.

Maybe the apparition is edited out for the website viewers so as not to alarm.

One Word On Hazing

Only one word is necessary in regards to hazing in Utah public schools and the condoning or ignoring of the subject by administrators.

One word never gets mentioned when people ask why such a big fuss over hazing.

Only one word can be applied to why laws on the books in Utah need to be re-written. That only as recently as 2008 was the law altered to include "bullying".

A radio talk-show on Friday was discussing the matter of hazing and the commentators - from the sound of it, they were obviously jocks - said that the kids being hazed should just "suck up" and take it. That it's all just part of growing up. Get over it. Basically, stop being a sissy.

Too many times we hear about how badly hazing - and bullying - turns into headlines we'd all care not to hear about. And all too commonly, someone gets hurt. Or even killed.

One word, unfortunately forgotten ten years out, never gets any press.

One word.

Columbine.

Four Cryin' Out Loud

Why isn't Taco Bell's "Fourthmeal" sales gimmick called "Quatromeal"?

Everywhere A Sign

Ubiquitous road construction signs are the norm for this time of year in Utah. In fact a witticism that pervades our whole culture says there are only two seasons in Utah: Winter and construction.

So while current road work signs are to be expected, completed project signs are rare.

Why, then, are there signs proclaiming construction completion signs still in plain view on Highway 40 on the western end of Vernal? From Fall 2008?

Yes, 2008.

HEY UDOT!

The construction that was completed three seasons ago added new passing lanes on a two or three mile stretch on Highway 40. Necessary? You betcha. Slow-moving vehicles are pretty much the norm anywhere on Highway 40, as that stretch is a major conduit for folks traveling east or west; I-80 is quite a ways away yet.

But it's not the completed signs that puzzle me - it's the "still under construction" signs no-one ever bothered taking down. Still standing are signs warning motorists that speeding will result in double fines. And not until last week did someone finally get fed up to take down the 50 mile per hour temporary signs - the regular posted speed in the area is 65.

It appears UDOT needs to check up on their sign inventories.

Mavericks And Rebels

Just those two words conjure up ideas of the Wild West. A la Bret Maverick and James Dean.

Maybe that's a stretch.

But you cannot deny that Rebels and Mavericks are part of the landscape here in Utah. If it weren't for a Maverik store on every other street corner from a 7-11, we'd never even think of Bret. Or Bart for that matter. And we're all rebels in one way or another.

I've begun to appreciate Maverik stores - they're plentiful, and their pumps work with my employers' fleet gas cards. So in a similar way to sloughing off the company for your own frequent-flier miles, I decided earlier this week that I should take advantage of Maverik's Adventurer Club, and get a card there, too. Save the company a couple cents off each gallon of gas, and get kickbacks for the trouble.

But when I got onto their website to request a card, I was a bit dismayed at the following dialog that appeared to let me know when I could expect my card to arrive:

An Email has been sent to a member of card services. To receive the card will take normal delivery times of mail. If you would like to inqure of the status of the registration, please send an email to...

"...normal delivery times of mail" - is what? And if I don't get my card in that "normal delivery time", I can "inqure"?

Sounds particularly foreign to me. I could be a rebel and demand someone fix the website before I accept the card; maybe visit wherever their headquarters is in Utah, but then again, I'd have to make use of a service a Utah bail-bonds service supplies. On the leeward side of Duchesne on Highway 40 is a billboard advertising their services. But fear not, I don't plan on being a rebel myself, but they apparently think anyone who would call them is, considering their phone number:

1-800-U REBEL U

Funny stuff.