Merry Christmas
Here on the East Coast of the US, it’s still Christmas for another 6 minutes or so, so I’m not actually late in saying this :)
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.
Happy Halloween
This is my son’s pumpkin. He picked the design, prepared the pattern, and traced it. He also scooped out the guts. I did the carving.
For more halloween fun, check out the Great Pumpkin theme in the Style boxlet on the right.
Beat
I am beat. Even though I’ve been promising myself I’d write a real post one night this week, tonight just isn’t going to be the night. I’m only posting this because I challenged dugh to a month of solid blogging after he created the week-long October Blogging Challenge. Which makes this a lame cheat. The first rule of the Blogging Challenge is don’t blog about the Blogging Challenge, and all that rot.
I could sit here and write the rant I’d planned about the sad state of windows “freeware” (yes, those are air-quotes, please make exagerated hand motions when you read them), but that will have to wait until tommorow. Beat, I tell you.
And yes, the comments are still down (see prior post, I’m too lazy to link it tonight). I’ll try to install the blacklist plugin this weekend. If you’re really feeling sorry for me and my abused comment system, email me (link on the right somewhere).
For now, I’m going to fire up the TiVo and watch Smallville, even if they did write out the best character they’ve ever had last week.
Old
In Cryptonomicon, Neal Stephenson spends over 11,000 words describing the special cereal-eating ritutal of Randy, the hacker protagonist of the modern thread of the story. It aptly captures the extreme degree of thought a true geek can apply to any situation. An couple of excerpts:
The gold nuggets of Cap’n Crunch pelt the bottom of the bowl with a sound like glass rods being snapped in half Tiny fragments spall away from their corners and ricochet around on the white porcelain surface. World-class cereal-eating is a dance of fine compromises. The giant heaping bowl of sodden cereal, awash in milk, is the mark of the novice. Ideally one wants the bone-dry cereal nuggets and the cryogenic milk to enter the mouth with minimal contact and for the entire reaction between them to take place in the mouth. Randy has worked out a set of mental blueprints for a special cereal-eating spoon that will have a tube running down the handle and a little pump for the milk, so that you can spoon dry cereal up out of a bowl, hit a button with your thumb, and squirt milk into the bowl of the spoon even as you are introducing it into your mouth. The next best thing is to work in small increments, putting only a small amount of Cap’n Crunch in your bowl at a time and eating it all up before it becomes a pit of loathsome slime, which, in the case of Cap’n Crunch, takes about thirty seconds.
And:
Here is where a novice would lose his cool and simply chomp down. A few of the nuggets would explode between his molars, but then his jaw would snap shut and drive all of the unshattered nuggets straight up into his palate where their armor of razor-sharp dextrose crystals would inflict massive collateral damage, turning the rest of the meal into a sort of pain-hazed death march and rendering him Novocain mute for three days. But Randy has, over time, worked out a really fiendish Cap’n Crunch eating strategy that revolves around playing the nuggets’ most deadly features against each other.
It’s a nearly stream-of-concious peak inside Randy’s head; a summary of the analysis and energy possible when fixating. When I read the book (and when I re-read it), I identified immediately with the mindset being portrayed, although I had no cereal ritual of my own.
Lately however, I’ve developed a minor cereal fixation, a morning jumpstart as well as a power snack late in the afternoon. While I have yet to apply the fanatical levels of analysis exhibited by Randy, I’ve started drawing some mental parallels to this chapter of the book.
Then I considered the fact that while Randy is obsessed with Cap’n Crunch, my cereal of choice is Frosted Shredded Wheat. Yes, Shredded Wheat. How old am I suddenly feeling?
I Still Remember
I originally posted this text on September 11, 2003. I reprint it here in its entirety. Because I still remember. And so we never forget.
I remember my pager going off during a meeting. “CALL HOME ASAP.” My wife never pages me. I left the meeting. It was a little past 9am.
I remember finding an empty office and calling home. I was in Manhattan only for the day, 52nd Street. My wife was upset. “Two planes just crashed into the World Trade Center. Are you there?” We live two hours away - she didn’t know anything about New York City, just that I was there. “I’m five miles away, hon. I’m fine.”
I remember getting off the phone after several minutes of assuring my wife I’d find out how to get home and call her back. The meeting was still in progress.
I remember wondering how I could go tell a room full of New Yorkers what had happened. I remember my relief when a moment later, the meeting room opened up and everyone poured out. Someone else had already told them.
I remember wandering down a few floors, looking for a television. I passed someone I didn’t know. “They blew up the Pentagon,” he said. My stomach turned to ice. How far would this go?
I remember talking to my wife again. I had to call someone back in my office, over a dedicated line, and get him to conference us. Long distance and cell phones were completely tied up. “I promise I’ll try to get home today,” I told her. She was trying not to be hysterical. So was I.
I remember leaving the building with four other people from my office, all visiting for the day. Someone had come up over the weekend, and had a car parked in Brooklyn. The 3:30 streets were empty. Subways, the ones that were running, were nearly empty. We walked a long time, away from the smoke. I looked over my shoulder at it so many times I lost count.
I remember riding out of Brooklyn over the Verazanno Narrows bridge several hours later. Looking back at the column of smoke, larger than belief. I will never forget that image as long as I live.
I remember arriving home. Hugging my children. Holding my wife. Calling friends and loved ones, assuring them I was home. Crying. Praying for the families of those who were lost.
On September 11, 2001, over three thousand people lost their lives. At the World Trade 2,972 people were lost. At the Pentagon, 184 people were lost. In a field in Pennsylvania, 40 people were lost. I was fortunate… I didn’t lose anyone. But I remember.
Also: Pwylla remembers. Joel replaced his site with a stirring memorial for the day.
Stymied
I have been Busy. Busy-with-a-capital-B-Busy. Work. Home. Illness (= falling behind, = busier when I’m healthy).
How busy? It’s April 7, and this is my first post in April. Ouch.
How busy? Yesterday, while at work, I decided I needed some thinking music, so I grabbed my Powerbook from my bag, grabbed the mini-plug for my powered speakers that sits on my desk (I have a Wintel PC at work; why would I plug speakers into that?) and plugged in my ‘book. Two minutes into “What’s the Frequency, Kenneth?”, the music died. Battery. Oops. Power supply is at home. Did I say oops? I don’t think I ever used it all weekend. And this is my primary computer at home. Tonight I finally got around to plugging the thing into AC, only to find the battery had really, really died. Oops.
At least I’m getting things done. Released one major app last Thursday at work. Releasing the other this Thursday (crosses fingers). Nearly finished cleaning the garage.
Of course, when I get this busy, I usually end up looking for a stress-release, and the less practical the better. While cleaning the garage, my attention kept getting drawn to the pair of Sun SPARC/Station 1’s (complete with monitor) sitting on a shelf in my garage. I grabbed these years ago when my employer was discarding them. Of course, I’ve never been able to do anything useful with them. Or anything at all, for that matter. I’ve got an old copy of some version of a Sun OS for them, and even borrowed a SCSI CD-ROM drive at one point, but they were both net-booted workstations and have no hard drive. The only SCSI drive I’ve ever gotten my hands on (for free) I could never get to work.
In the years since I last played with these machines, I’ve gotten a little more Unix/Linix savvy, and have certainly acquired more hardware. As I’ve gazed at these old machines while I clean my garage, sorting through boxes of old memories and old junk, I’ve been pondering the potential. Linux. Net boot. Old hardware. What more could I need?
Well, a keyboard would be nice. At one time, at least, I had a Sun keyboard. I had hoped to find it in one of the remaining boxes. That hope was dashed tonight. I assumed it must be around the house somewhere. After calling it a night on the cleaning front, I decided to check my email for the first time in days (did I mention I’ve been Busy?). This proceeded into Googling for sparc 1 linux. I found scads of good stuff in the UltraLinux FAQ.
You can guess what happened next. With a little help, I got TFTP running on my Powerbook. I was just about to grab a compatible boot image, when I decided to grab some hardware. That’s when my lack of keyboard became more than a minor annoyance. I checked the basement, my office, and double-checked the garage… and I can’t find my Sun keyboard.
I briefly considered a serial port boot, but of course the SPARC 1 has a 25-pin serial port, and who knows where I might have put any 25-to-9-pin cables? Beside which, my powerbook has no serial port (I can’t believe I just complained about that!), and I don’t feel like getting the Win2000 machine involved tonight.
More Power
I’m no longer powerless; my new powerbrick for my Powerbook arrived today. Six more days of warranty support. And no, I didn’t buy Apple Care.
I’m a little behind on my reading and blogging; but I’ll try to get caught up over the next few days. Nice to be back on my Powerbook.
16 Candles. Times 2.
Today is my 32nd birthday. My buddy Sean got me a dual G5 Powermac… sort of.
Powerless
It started yesterday, at the office. I had been waiting for a time-sensitive email on my personal account, so I had my Powerbook on. When the email arrived, I began sending a reply. The “reserve power” warning came on; ten minutes of power left. I kept typing. Suddenly realizing I had only 4 minutes left, I grabbed my copmuter bag and pulled out my power supply. Plugged it into the wall, stuck it in the Powerbook, and nothing happened.
Three minutes. Look at all the apps that are open… never get everything closed down in time. Why didn’t the light come on? Trying to bend reality to my will by ignoring it, I unplugged the cord from the Powerbook and plugged it back in. Nothing. Two minutes. Grasping the cord near the powerbook, I lifted the brick to see if the AC cord was plugged in snuggly. My foot was on the AC chord, however, and I ended up yanking the brick to a halt in midair, like a child on the playground with a friend grabbing each arm, tugging in opposite directions. Then the green light went on. And then off.
One minute. I jiggled the cord a little, brick still suspended in the air, and the light came on green. After a moment, it turned yellow… the battery was now charging. Slowly, gingerly, I lowered the brick to the floor. Power continued to flow. Immediate danger passed, big problem remaining.
This happened late in the day; when I packed up to go home, the PB was not fully charged. Later last night, I took it out and sat on the couch and read some email, caught up on some blogs. Eventually, the partial charge ran down, and it was time to plug in again. I grabbed the cord, earlier problems forgotten until I plugged it in, and nothing happened. Remembering the prior fix, I gave the cord a jiggle. On-off. Jiggle, shake. On-Off-on. Lower slowly. Off. Sharp wrist snap, On. Lower slowly. Still on. Resume computing irritated.
Of course, by morning I’d forgotten all this (where is my head, anyway?). I tossed the PB and cord in the bag and headed to work. I was again expecting an important email, and pulled out the PB around lunch time to check for it. It rolled in a little later, along with another email telling me something I ordered had shipped. Ooooh…. Fedex Tracking Numbers! I left the Powerbook on the desk the rest of the afternoon, occaisionally waking it to check my tracking numbers (obsessive? compulsive? don’t be silly) and my email. I never did bother to plug it in. Still had a little charge left when I headed home.
At home on the couch, eating dinner and surfing, I decided to run OS X Software update. As the update was winding up, I was running out of juice. Dinner finished, I decided to put the Powerbook in the office and let it charge for a while. Of course, when I plugged it in, no juice. I tried the jiggle trick, and the light flashed on and off a couple of times, and then nothing. I’ve fooled with it three or four times for 10 minutes a pop, and I can’t get it to charge. It’s powered off, but only 10 minutes of juice remain.
The good news is, my 1yr warranty is good for another week or two. The bad news is, I sure don’t want to wait for Apple to ship me a new cord… it this point I’ll be powerless all weekend. The closest place I know of to get a replacement is Compusa, which I’m boycotting for eternity. The next closest place is the Apple store, over an hour away; and I have about 0 chance of getting there this weekend with my parent coming to town for a visit.
So, for now, I’m unable to check email (I’ll be alot more desparate before I use webmail), I’m falling behind (further) on my blogs, and I probably won’t be posting much.
Hot and Cold
It’s been very cold here on the east coast for weeks. There’s several inches of snow still on the ground. I have had a nice coat of ice on my car’s windshield every morning for days. Having misplaced lost my window scraper, I am reduced to waiting for the car to warm up and melt the ice. This morning, the ice layer was thin. I decided to wait in the car while the ice melted. Five minutes later, I was very cold, but ready to leave.
This is when events began to conspire against me. While my driveway was clear of snow, the road at the end of my driveway still had some snow from the plows, which I hadn’t moved. My plan was to roll through at speed, which generally works. As my front wheels were passing the gutter, I realized I’d turned my car the wrong way… towards a neighbor’s car which is always parked on the road, strategically in my blind spot when I back out. Instinctively, I slowed the car for an extended crane-the-neck look for the other car- forgetting that this was a bad time to slow down. I stopped with my front wheels (of my front-wheel drive Eclipse) directly in the snow, in the gutter. Got my bearings, tried to back up… spun my wheels. Same going foward. Stuck. What a way to start the day!
The back of my car was blocking half the street, on a busy intersection. I was not pleased. I ran to get the snow shovel and rock salt, and asked Sherri to come help. I moved some snow, tossed some salt, and tried again. No change. Sherri tried to push. No change. I tried again… and slipped sideways. Slightly less road blocked, but I was still stuck. Watching the school bus thread its way between my car and the neighbor’s car (the one that caused all this) was especially invigorating.
I am ashamed to say I started getting mad. I was angry that this had happened to me. I was already imagining waiting for AAA to arrive, standing in the snow, waving people around my car. I was livid. I watched a big truck coming up the adjoining street, and was pleased when he didn’t turn. Then his brakes came on, and he started backing up. “Great! You would decide to turn after all, wouldn’t you?” I thought. I was hot.
And then something happened that immediately defused my tantrum. The truck stopped, and two guys hopped out. They walked over, moved a little more snow with the shovel, and pushed me out. I suddenly felt very small for being so worked up over nothing. I also realized it’s a shame that having someone stop to help you is a surprising thing these days.
To the anonymous gentlemen who helped me this morning, thank you and God bless you. You were the answer to a prayer I was too angry to pray. You not only saved me a lot of time and frustration, you improved my outlook for the entire day.
What a good way to start the day.