Jun 08

3 – Canadian Brother of Woy

Personal 2 Comments »

canada_flag

From time to time, I’ve talked about my family on the blog.  And while I have several brothers, it’s of Canadian Brother of Woy that I wish to speak today.

I know that my Canadian Brother reads the Sandwich.   I’ve seen hits emanating from Vancouver Island… so it’s either that or I’m still riding some sort of popularity since my last visit there in 2006.

Ever since I was young, I’ve always looked up to him.  CBOW has always been athletic – taking care of himself, working out, playing sports from football in middle school to bar league softball in later years.  Some of my earliest memories of him were playing catch out on our front lawn with a baseball or football.  We’d race laps in our swimming pool.  He’d always let me hang out with him and his friends.  I was always desparate to show that I could keep up with him.  He taught me my deep appreciation for sports.

He’s one of the hardest workers I’ve ever known – a real nose-to-the-grindstone type of guy.  He worked a job while he was in high school and worked in several industrial jobs after he graduated.  Long shifts – crazy shifts – shifts that he once said he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy.  And in the not-so-nicest of conditions… hot shop floors, grimy and smell of industrial solvents and oil.  He’d then come home and lift weights or work on his car.  He never seemed to run out of energy.   Even today, he does more in one day than I think about in a week.

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Jun 03

8 – The Wiring Closet

Personal No Comments »

photonew

There was a time, farflung and long ago, where I could remember just about everything I needed to do.  My to-do list was programmed into my brain and I could remember homework assignments, appointments, day of tests, phone numbers (when we actually had to memorize them), and so on.

As life has gotten more complex with many more interests and (let’s face it) age, factors have conspired to make me really take a hard look at getting organized.  Obviously, entire blogs and books have been dedicated to the idea of getting your act together.

As part of the MacHeist bundle, I received The Hit List – which is a elegant, simple, and seemingly well done task management program.  I’m also going to endeavour to employ some Getting Things Done principles to my workflow.  I think that GTD can be taken to the extreme degree (just like the Rational Unified Process and any other formalized process), but elements of it can contribute to a more organized and productive life.

The outcome of this attempt will be beyond the remaining blog posts – but I assure you I’ll be giving it the old college try – from after my Freshman year.

(John – I’ll give you your GTD book back next time you’re in the office)

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Jun 01

10 – When I Grow Up

Personal 4 Comments »

F2104~NASA-Astronaut-Rover-Flag-On-Moon-Spaceshots-Posters

Inspired by Rachel’s post, I started to think about all the things that I’ve wanted to be since I was a kid.

So, in chronological order and to the best of my knowledge (there was very short phases where I wanted to be a pilot dispersed throughout my formative years):

  • An astronaut.  (That lasted for probably the first 10-12 years of my life)
  • A chemist.  (7th grade)
  • President of the United States.  (8th grade – yeah, I know.)
  • A chemist.  Again.  (9th-10th grade)
  • A nuclear physicist.  (10th-11th grade)
  • Some sort of elected official (12th grade – junior year of college)

The reasons why I changed interests in all of those fields are stories unto themselves… but my junior year of college was when I changed my major from political science to management information systems and I went on to pursue a career in technology.

The funny thing is that (as anyone who has known me a long time can attest) I was around computers all my life.  I never seriously considered it as a vocation until I got a job the summer between sophomore and junior year in the field and realized I could make a career out of it.

What boggles me is that I either wanted to be a scientist or a politician.  Could you really get any away from each other on the career spectrum?

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May 22

20 – How The Brady Bunch Saved My Life

Personal 4 Comments »

1980 CJ5 Laredo_22s

It was the very early 80s on a Friday and my mother, my brother, and I were deciding on what to do for dinner.  Mom didn’t want to cook so we talked about what we wanted – maybe a pizza and hoagies from Aggie’s down the street.  My Dad had stopped off at his favorite watering hole for a drink and wouldn’t be home for a bit.

My brother asked if he could call his buddy first and see what he was up to… then maybe call in the order.  Normally, I’d want to call the order in – my small and simple contribution to procurement of takeout food since I was quite a ways from driving.    But, while the brother heads to the kitchen (where our only phone is at this time and I’d try to fight him for it), I am enraptured in the Hall Monitor episode of the Brady Bunch where Bobby is the Big Tool on Campus.

My brother fires up the rotary (!) phone to see if his buddy wants to come over.  He comes in somewhat dejected that said friend wasn’t home.

Approximately 60 seconds later, there is a very loud crash that comes from the kitchen.  We all kind of look at each other and my mom wonders aloud if one of the cabinets fell off the wall.  My Mom and I race down the one hallway while my brother heads down the other.  We both converge on our kitchen to confront a lot of dust, noise, and a jeep.

A mother-F’ing jeep (still running) resting in our kitchen.

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May 19

23 – I’m Com(m)atose

Personal 14 Comments »

mezmeron

I have an archenemy.

Like Holmes and Moriarty, Pac-Man and Mezmeron, Julie Bologna and fashion sense, or politicians and integrity, I am at times locked in a mortal struggle with an enemy that lurks in the shadows ready to strike.

I have met the enemy – and it is the comma.

My problem is that it threatens to sabotage my writing at every turn.  Under moderate to most circumstances, I keep my desire to use it in check.

But then – I’ll get that urge.    I use it.  A lot.   I Go Green… Bruce Banner style.  At times without regard for other words, punctuation, or grammar.  When I really get carried away,  I’m like Lindsay Lohan with her black American Express card shopping at Prada while lit up on coke and Red Bull – out of control and using it to excess.

I feel like I overuse it or in the wrong place.  I’ll often re-read things I’ve written and cringe that I inserted a comma into an awkward (or downright wrong) place.

I’ve consulted some reference texts, online resources (including the all-knowing Oracle of Wikipedia), and even tried to find my old 7th grade English textbook to get my arms around proper usage.  I would appeal to my local subject matter expert, but she’s no longer local.  I feel I have a decent command of the English language but think this is a bit of an Achilles’ Heel.  Maybe I just need to apply myself a bit more… or someone just needs to stage a punctuation intervention with me.

I always wonder if there are people wrestling with their own personal English demons – like spelling Wednesday or the proper use of f-ing contractions.

May 14

28 – The Only Winning Move is Not to Play

Personal 2 Comments »

massive-nuclear-explosion

Apocalyptic works have always interested me – whether it be destruction from aliens, natural disasters, or some other sort of human caused phenomena.  I think it’s the “special effects porn” either on screen or in my mind that I find satisfying.  There’s one particular end game scenario that’s both fascinated and terrified me at the same time.

A recent article on Slate magazine explored a perceived trend in “airport books” where nuclear Armageddon is explored in grim and excruciating detail – including “splattering” and cannibalism.

I was a child of the Cold War and it scared the hell out of me in grade school.  Given, I didn’t experience the all-out vigil terrorfest that was the Cuban Missle Crisis where people thought bombs would drop at any second.  I would, on a semi-regular basis, have nightmares about nuclear war and waking up seconds before being incinerated.   The Doomsday Clock loomed large, and I always watched the news to find out how many minutes to midnight remained.

The Day After* was the seminal movie of the 80’s about an all-out nuclear conflict.  I remember warnings from ABC to not allow your children to watch it – and it was a fairly big controversy for those parents that allowed their children to see it.  By today’s standards, the special effects and people getting vaporized were not particularly gruesome.  More than anything, it made something which was just imagined much more real.

My parents wouldn’t let me near a TV, so I snuck upstairs when the movie aired and watched the scenes involving nuclear explosions through the crack of my brother’s bedroom door.  I don’t think I slept right for several weeks.

With the fall of the Soviet Union and commensurate increase in age, much of that fear left me.  Every so often though I still have a bad dream involving nuclear explosions, etc.

In a completely unrelated matter – you really want to be depressed?  Read The Life and Death of Planet Earth.  You’ll learn about the sunshiny future that awaits life on Earth as our oceans eventually turn to the consistency of acid, boil off, and then the planet (maybe) gets swallowed by our dying Sun.

*Interesting trivia fact in another Star Trek-related note – Nicholas Meyer, who directed Star Trek II and Star Trek VI, also directed The Day After.

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Jan 19

My Dad, the Steelers, and Me

Personal, Sports 5 Comments »
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My Dad - at my friend's wedding in Colorado

I haven’t written about my family typically, but I need to share how my father has helped engrain in me my love for the Steelers.

My father and I didn’t have a great relationship when I was younger – it was sometimes tenuous and distant.  We got closer over the years, especially after my parents were divorced during my sophomore year of high school.  Along with being a wonderful father, he’s become a trusted advisor and great friend.  If there’s been one constant in my relationship with my father, it’s been a love for football and the Steelers.

Some of my earliest memories of my Dad lay in the Sunday morning ritual of watching football.  I can vaguely remember waking up with a sense of excitement as I knew he and I would be spending the day together watching television.

I would put on my number 12 Bradshaw t-shirt and not only watch Steelers games with my Dad, but I’d also be re-enacting the great plays in team history in our dining room.  Folded oaktag yard markers would be set up (not to scale, of course) and I would regularly make 70-yard connections from Bradshaw to Swann or Stallworth.  My mother would yell at me when I would hit the floor hard enough to violently shake the china cabinet.  My father, all the while, would enjoy watching me play.
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