Nebraska

Heads-up. This is more political than vacation, just so you know...

Roughly 450 miles out there, and very uneventful. No bad experiences with snow or state troopers. No mechanical breakdowns or hiccups. Blissful uninterrupted music from the satellite radio. All in all a good seven and a half hours.

I saw three rigs jack-knifed (one of 'em a FedEx trailer... sorry for the late arrival of Li'l Johnny's gift, eh?), a couple cars buried up to their windows in plowed snow, and an impressive positioning of a Ford Explorer in the median, on its side and facing North on this east/west highway. Alas, the camera was in the trunk and anyway I didn't care to waste digital space with those things (yet here it is in stated form anyway).

The kids were... themselves, I guess. One of 'em decided to dig around in my wallet. Another was a temper looking for a tantrum, and found it repeatedly. ... I really love these kids, but damned if I witnessed more than maybe two instances when they were polite, or remotely resembled kids with any idea what the word "behaved" meant. Both of those moments were during church services (I was impressed, really). Even the few photos I took of them belie their incessant harassment of eachother. :sigh: I just don't get it. Or maybe it's because I was an only child that I don't understand it (they're children of a step-sister that I was seldom around). Gawd, I hope that's not it.

As to church; I'm agnostic, but to be part of the family I have no problem joining them to show respect. It's nice to meet some of their neighbors, too. I squirm every time I go though. The reason varies, but is almost always one of three primary reasons.
1) The charlatan. This creature hides in the rank and file of the followers of the faith. All smiles and courtesy, most devout in appearance. Then when you see them at the mall, they're the ones shoving through everyone else like someone entitled, dripping with arrogance and likely parked in the handicapped parking. Sadly, I've witnessed this to be the person in the pulpit as well.
2) The politics. Become a member and soon see factions in the aisles sizing you up as "with us or again' us" in true Good Ol' Boy fashion. Be a part of one, and you'll find that the mechanic in the other faction "forgetting" to tighten the oil drain plug on your car next month. Stupid in the extreme, but present nonetheless.
3) The Message. Maybe I'm just an idealist, but I've always taken the sermon as being education on the Bible, not a thinly veiled soap-box on who to vote for in November. Yet the latter is what I usually see happen.

Joked the pastor during evening mass as he tried putting down more than his pedistal could hold, "I need two pulpits." Gaining a couple chuckles from folks, he continued on. The squirming feeling came when he made an allegory comparing Jesus' decision to spread God's word to man with President Bush's decision to "spread democracy to the middle east". The jist of it was that just as the US is trying to bring democracy to a land that's not too inclined to accept this Western idea of freedom, so too did Jesus experience resistance in his works. The thing is, I have a hard time reconciling that:
a) Jesus was really given a decision to make regarding his task on Earth, and
b) putting him in the company of an idiot like Bush. (yes, I'm a registered elephant and I still believe the guy has naught but the intelligence of sauerkraut).
I'm of the opinion that separation of Church and State (or the illusion thereof) needs to be expanded to separation of clergy and politics.

Okay, so I am a cynical bastard. I'm sure that's the third door on the left in Hell that I'll be taking up residence in when I'm finally done with this coil of mortality & all. That doesn't necessarily mean I'm wrong, though.

Have a great & safe New Year's Eve, everyone.

The Who, Squeeze Box (Live)

Again??

Another blizzard is threatening to blow through tonight and tomorrow ... and possibly Saturday. After getting back from Nebraska (more on that in a later post) I suddenly saw just how much that bit of snow last week impacted us. I'm not talking about the airport, and the reported half million people affected by its closing. I only had to go to the grocery store for some basics, but the produce area was looking like Communist Russia of the mid 80's. There was NOTHING there except brussel sprouts and bagged carrots. Yes, I bought the sprouts. Go gag elsewhere. The dairy section was looking pretty sad, too.

I'm just hoping this blizzard gets outta here soon enough that I can head up the hill for some New Year's Eve fresh powder skiing.

On the up-side, I'm hopeful that there will be no drought this summer. I know there's not much lawn left for me to water or anything (curses to property management), but still...

Uriah Heep, Easy Livin'

But it's a four-buh-four!

So we had that blizzard come through. The state governor declared a disaster emergency in six counties, urging people to stay off the roads. Evidently some nut thought they could get through it. It seems they cracked.

Yes, we salute you, Mister "I-Can-Go-Anywhere-Because-It's-A-Four-Buh-Four" guy.

Oh look, a blizzard.

Today I was passenger in the carpool to work, for the driver has four wheel drive (and there was much rejoicing). Why so happy about this? Well, here's what happened while I was at work... or, "Meanwhile, back at the ranch". Elapsed time from dry to this was eight hours:


Mario was wondering what the hell was up:


Let's back-track a tad, shall we? I didn't check the weather last night. I didn't check the weather this morning. I walked out to the car with no jacket... basically, this was me:

Yeah. Froze my ass off leaving work, thankyouverymuch. But at 5am, all was fine. A little breeze and mere hints of teeny snowflakes falling, no big deal at all. Thirty miles and a mere half hour later there's an inch of snow on the ground and I overhear "blizzard warning" from a passing coworker.

Long story short(er), management takes until 11am to decide to let people leave to go home before it gets ugly out there... Oops, too late. Grrrr. Two and a half hours later I get home. Carpool driver made an additional ten miles over the course of the following two hours on his way home. Two hours. TEN miles. Gee, it's a good thing we left before it got ugly.

First Run for the season

I used my season pass finally! I decided on Keystone, reserved ski rentals online, and set the clock awfully early. (Note to self: Don't bother setting the clock so damned early. There WILL be wrecks on the highway no matter what time I leave, so just sleep the fuck IN! It is, after all, SATURDAY...) When I got there, I parked in the free parking about a quarter mile from where I needed to get the skis, which was a minor mistake. Live & learn: There are two rental shops feet from the free-parking lot instead of the one down the road... near the lifts I wants to be at anyway (Summit Express).

When I got to the rental shop, they predictably couldn't find my reservation. The reason they couldn't find it? Li'l Miss "I'm-On-Winter-Break-From-High-School" kept putting my first name into the LAST name field & vice-versa. No problem, really. It's not as though they were short on skis or anything.

So. Skis were clack-clacked to my feet. A pole occupied each hand (Whadda ya mean, "What were their names"? sheesh). The lifts were ridden. Many times. Came down various slopes (no diamond). Many times. Wiped out in exceptionaly sorry fashion. Ma.. uh, never mind. Point of that is: Nothing broken. ...okay, so I can't turn my head to the left very far, but still! (It's Monday morning now and I just tried looking left again... Ouch!)

I love skiing, but I have to wonder what the point is if I can't seem to get through even some simple moguls off the side of a blue run. Ah well, that's why I got the pass. So I can die practice.

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The Pretenders, Time The Avenger

Route 66

I like to drive. I like to just get in the car and roll down the highway. T'is the embodiment of American freedom, yes? You have this key in your hand. And when you crawl into this tin can of machinery, you slide the key into the ignition, give a twist, and go watch submarine races Friday night up at Canyon Ferry Dam... er, I mean make a 200 mile round trip with Mom's car when you were only supposed to be gone for an hour or so...

Really though, I mean you're ... Free. Nobody tells you what to do with any real effect (though some might make passionate suggestions if you cut them off). YOU are the "deciderer". YOU have the will, and exercise it to make your next stop down the road. Or decide to NOT stop if you get exceptional mileage.

Yes, there are some caveats... There are those shiny flashing lights that make your auto insurance carrier smile (not your agent, necessarily), those pesky "Do Not Enter" signs (sing with me: signs, signs, everywhere are signs...) but don't damage my calm, man. The tank is nearly full, and I'm rollin'.

In the past, I've been pretty much bored out of my gourd on the likes of I-70 from the Colorado-Kansas border (truthfully, starting east of Limon) en-route to Pigeon Forge, TN because it's so damn flat. Same for central Montana's I-90, the latest source of my insurance carrier's evil, despicable grin.

Anyone that takes road-trips on occasion knows full well that radio stations A) generally suck (a-la Clear Channel), or B) don't last more than an hour or two. I don't like taking a load of CD's with me because I just don't care that much to be careening down the road trying to shuffle out a new CD. I picked up a stereo that plays MP3s, which helps greatly on the "don't need to fling so many CD's around" front, but didn't eliminate it. And frankly, I've gotta say I'm getting kinda tired of the music I do have, which may number a hundred (and from across the land comes the echoed "AMATEUR!"). So Thursday I went & got Sirius installed on the car since the stereo was designed for it to be plugged in, and I'm planning another road-trip for Christmas. I'm liking this quite a lot.

T'is the... no, too cliché

While work is rolling along fairly nicely, the ten of us in the group decided with the boss to take a half day off Friday afternoon at the company's expense. Have a nice lunch, unwind, maybe get a White Elephant gift exchange going... Done deal. This might seem pretty anarchistic and edgy at first glance.

"Yeah man! Get paid to slack off at some restaurant, dude! Oh wait! BAR HOP! YEAH MAN!" (pause for Pantera goodness... Hole In The Sky ... Okay, good)

Alas, this is a company-endorsed once-a-year thing that each manager can do for their team. Hasta-la-bye-bye anarchy. Fare thee well, edginess. We the team just decide when during the year to do it, and go.

I'm sure you're just as shocked as I to find out that most teams take some Friday in December to do this, aren't you? Yeah. Hey listen, if I missed your call... I really don't care, okay? I hope you left a message.

We also decided that, in the spirit of being a team, we'd get all chummy & take the light-rail together to the destination. So the four of us get on the train (remember that "ten of us in the team" bullshit earlier? yeah... anyway) and get a kick out of mocking the others on board. Mostly just the driver's voice, really. If you've ever seen Monsters Inc. and recall the guy that voiced Roz, a.k.a. Number One, you might be interested to know that person is the driver of the F Line from the Lincoln station up to 16th & California here in Denver. Combine that with a Napoleon Dynamite-esque 25 second siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiggggggggggggggggghhhh before saying, "Please keep clear of the doors as they close" and you have a great idea of what we were listening to at every. Damn. Stop.

Yes, they do have an automated voice with some nice lady that tells you what stop is coming next, but I guess this driver just HAS to make use of his talent and accompanying captive audience. I offered up a little prayer: "God, please speed us to the end of the line... I don't care if the brakes go out, just please make his narration STOP! My sides are killin me here from laughing so much, and the other riders are looking at me funny. Yes, that includes my coworkers."

So, meeting the other six people at the destination, much conversation ensues about entertainment (being Hard Rock Café, that's just going to happen). Well, at some point, boss lady mentions The Partridge Family's Danny Bonaduce & his reality show from a year or two ago. One coworker chimes in, "Oh yeah. He was a mobster, wasn't he?"

blink... stare ...blink

You hear the pin drop, followed by laughter. I dunno, did the Partridge Family ink a record deal by other than talent? It kinda makes sense. Unless (or even if) you subscribed to the "Ah, that creepy Reuben was getting some action on the side" theory.

I ordered the HRC cheeseburger. Heather was our waitress. Go there. Ask for her. Treat her well, and she'll take care of you. She kicks ass. Tip her poorly, and I'll kick yours. M'kay? So Heather asks how I want it cooked, and I reply, "I'd like to hear it MOOO when you bring it out, but whatever the legal minimum time that you're required to cook it will be fine."

Did I mention I'd taken the seat next to the group's vegetarian? She was displeased with me for that. Understand that when I say she was displeased, I don't mean she glared at me, or spun off on some vegan rant, or teared up at the thought of the cow remnant that was soon to be devoured in front of her. No, instead she took the high road and slugged my arm. Hard.

I ordered a Guinness to go with that slab o' meat. Sitting on the other side of me was our resident Muslim follower, and he slugged my other arm.

Yeah, I really like my team. We can vent as needed and not get all those fucked up "hurt feelings", and visits from HR followed by "sensitivity training".

Eating with two bruised arms was an interesting ordeal though. Still, it was a good burger. I'm even here to tell the tale as, opposed to driving the porcelain bus courtesy our good friend Mr. Coli, E. Yay for the home team.

I did my Capitalist bit by buying a damned t-shirt. That makes two HRC shirts that I own now. Pathetic, ain't it? On the up-side I have a dozen not-extravagant wine glasses that fucking MATCH from the White Elephant exchange, so I'm happy. (See Heather? I didn't say anything about those shot glasses you let the coworker slip into her bag o' goodies! ... uh, that is... ~nevermind~)

After the gift exchange and "See ya later"s outside on the 16th Street Mall, three of us meander back to the train (notice how we lost one of our initial four?) and head back down to get our cars at work. The day ends well.

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Bruce Cockburn, Mary Had a Baby

BILLions and BILLions...

To be added to search terms that Google cannot handle:
"convert 149597870 km to limes" I mean, don't you wonder just how many limes that would work out to? And how much accompanying salt & Tequilla that would require to get through?

... damn those pebcak errors!

So that Wil guy posted some math, and woke my brain up. Because of this, I had to follow through with the exercise.

For
C = 2 · π · R
and
R= 92,955,806-ish miles (one AU).

Solve for C
C = 584,058,562 mi (bear with me, it'll all be over soon)

And C over time: 21,026,108,231 mi for 36 years + about 438,043,921 mi for nine-ish months

That boils down to roughly twenty-one and a half Billion miles (imagine Carl Sagan saying that; he always capitalizes his pronunciation of Billion, doesn't he?) that I've travelled on this rock in my lifetime.

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Covenant, Voices

Movies

Here's what I've got. Whadda ya like?

No, I'm not giving 'em away or anything (not at this point, anyway). Just thought maybe a movie would be good to throw in & didn't know which I should watch.

So... Whadda ya like?

DJ Krush, Jazzanova

Blog about ... my blog. Shoot me now.

Huh. After that last post, I did some minor house-keeping here; went ahead and "converted" to the new Google-powered blogspot, whatever that means. Also took a look at a few things... like the comments that needed moderation (I am SO sorry that I took so long on those; I'm just clueless, apparently), but also my profile.

"Age: 250"
I had no idea I was in such great shape for my age. I mean, I kept telling Abe that the secret to long life was staying mostly out of the public eye (ouch), but here I am now. Statue-less, and not to be found on ANY dollar or coin denomination. A quarter-millenia old. Seems like just yesterday I was hearing ol' Ben recounting his time in the Continental Congress... Whadda wind-bag. And make no mistake, at that time the dentistry profession was less a profession than a cult. Ben really needed some Tic-Tacs, ya know?

Maybe I should do some updating, huh?

Tired? Me? Why do you ask?

I spent 6am to 8pm yesterday at work. Best part? The tool I use to do my job told me that I was done. Ten minutes before shutting down a manager comes by and asks about "The List". I say, "It's done. Have a go.."

"No, there are two left in there, one that's been done since last week."

Sure as shit, there's a call sitting since the 24th, ready to go. I didn't see it. Number Three didn't see it. So now the POS order manager system has taken to lying to some of us. Grand.

Upgrades are coming at the end of the year, which are touted to fix everything ... just like last time. It still boggles my mind, just how much cash money we've poured into this shit.

Our CEO gave his fiscal year end pep talk a few weeks ago. You know the one. Where he gives his hand motion in front of us all to advise how great everything is, and we nod our heads and tell the people next to us how great everything is... I admit the bonus is a nice one. Biggest I've seen since starting five years ago, actually.

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Snow snow snow. Skiing time is soooo close, and the ski pass is burning to be used. Soon.

Oh! Happy December, everybody.

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Combichrist, Without Emotions