Author: bob

Be Careful What You Wish For…

Oooh! It’s a big secret! Keep your big yapper shut! Stuff somethin’ in that piehole of yours, will ya?

Okay, just between you and me I’ve got a little secret to tell. Ready?

i’m trying to find a job closer to the damp dog lodge so i can move and live there full time because i’m sick and tired of america’s finest city

There, I said it. Of course that wouldn’t be the case if I hadn’t actually spilled that smoldering pot of baked beans to my coworkers this morning. It also didn’t hurt that one of my compatriots in the department had managed to blast a giant hole in his own foot this week. The one with the job I’m looking to take over. Yeah, the one that’s closer to my real house.

“What about the commute down the hill?” “Do you really want to work for them?” “Will you be able to stand the politics?”

Bah! Pooh! I can’t be bothered with those little details. All I know are these things: paying for two houses is killing me to death; San Diego is brimming with evil politicians/traffic/gas price gougers/and, um, some other bad things too.

But hey, what recommends the joint anyway? Family and friends. That’s about it. Oh yeah, my current job and the people there as well.

Um, there’s a little problem though (isn’t there always? that’s so done. -ed Nice to see that you showed up this week. – bob). It’s there and I’m here. Oh, that other guy also has to do something really bad to get canned and he hasn’t really decided to swap jobs with me at this point either.

So keep that under your hat anyway, okay?

Your pal,

bob

Oh, We’re All So Angry, Aren’t We?

On the heels of the last post about getting along, I thought I’d mention another group of people who don’t want to play nice. Each for different reasons…

Remember my former landlord? You know, the ones who lost their lease and thought that they might kick us out of our previous house whenever they pleased? Yeah, those guys. Remember how they were completely ticked that we didn’t want to wait for them to spring the move date on us so we decided to move at the end of last month? Uh huh. Then there was the thing about their church and how they couldn’t move until services were over late Sunday afternoon and we had to wait in the front yard with all of our stuff until they got their act together and fully moved out so we could move in.

It turns out that they’re not fond of us.

Yeah, it’s shocking to me as well.

The funny thing is that they really should like us right about now considering that they took almost a month to submit a change of address with the Post Office. And I have some pretty juicy mail sitting here that they might like to read. I stopped by the old digs today to see if they had any of our old mail, but rather than answer the door our former landlord retreated to a back bedroom to play the drums. Yep, drums. Couldn’t hear the knocking on the door, you see. After the fact.

Then there’s the story of a couple individual haters who are hating friends of mine who they happen to be married to (is this the season, or what?). What’s especially loathsome about these particular individuals is their histories of prior violence. I haven’t heard of any recent incidents, but I fear that neither of my friends would tell me if it was actually occurring. You see, I don’t like that very much, and while I’m smaller in stature than the, erm, gentlemen who are the subjects of my ire, I think my friends believe (and with good reason) that I would do something stupid if they let loose their secret.

It’s only a hunch though. I can’t substantiate any of it, just the creepy feeling I get.

I don’t really dislike my former landlord. I actually pity him more than I harbor any resentment. He decided to be an anal-retentive knucklehead and it bit him in that aforementioned private area. Those bad guys though, The husbands who treat the women—my friends—who loved them like so much furniture and much worse, well…

That’s something else entirely.

– bob

We Tilt Our Heads Back And Laugh

The subject has come up over the last few days whether I wish to get fired. I don’t think so, but I have sent people—vendors, actually—email responses filled with the cheek that you’ve grown to positively adore here at Jaunty Central. Why? It’s mostly a reaction to the corp-speak that grates so heavily on my last fragile nerve. Just trying to have fun ma’am.

After all, while this is serious business I’ve found myself wrapped up in at San Diego’s Omnipresent Charitable Organization, I really can’t take my role in it as seriously as some would hope. Here’s an exchange in chronological order (rather than email reply-reply-reply order) with the names and intellectual property and places obscured by brackets. Don’t be alarmed. It’s okay to read top to bottom here…

From: [“missy”]@[vendor].com
Sent: Tuesday, August 23, 2005 1:44 PM
To: [me and others at work]
Cc: [a whole bunch of other people]
Subject: RE: [software] Implementation

Before we can proceed much further with planning and scheduling we need confirmation of your successful and stable upgrade at [the local site]. It is my understanding that the upgrade has now been delayed until Thursday of this week.

[my boss] – can you provide an update?

From: [my boss@sandiegosomnipresentcharitableorganization.org]
Sent: Tuesday, August 23, 2005 2:52 PM
To: [“missy,” me, and others at work]
Cc: [still a whole bunch of other people]
Subject: RE: [software] Implementation

[“missy”],

The upgrade is going to occur tonight.

Always the best to you,

[my boss]

From: [me@sandiegosomnipresentcharitableorganization.org]
Sent: Thursday, August 25, 2005 7:32 AM
To: [“missy,” my boss, and others at work]
Cc: [a whole different bunch of other people]
Subject: RE: [software] Implementation

Good morning all (my, this distribution is getting huge),

The software upgrade for the [local facility] has been nearly completed. There are issues known to [the vendor] that prevent full completion (more in a bit), but [most of the components] are all running nicely. In fact, I checked the database integrity this morning and the error logs and everything looks clean and shiny. Note that this was never the case [with the previous version] as we had persistent corruption issues that were beyond our control. Overall, people seem thrilled with the performance of [the new version] and I’m very encouraged by its apparent stability. Nice job, folks.

Now the bad news. In order to complete the upgrade, [tech guy] from [vendor] support had to disable [a key feature]. There are two problems with this. The first problem is obvious – [the feature will not be] available to [users]. The second problem was that this was apparently a known issue with [the new release] but that fairly crucial bit of information was not communicated to me before I embarked on the upgrade process. We actually have a joke about that around here and it goes like this: “Are you doing an upgrade?” “Yes, why do you ask?” “Are there special secret installation instructions from [the vendor] like the last time?” “Not that I’m aware of…” And then we all laugh.

The other problem involves the delay in our installation. It turns out that the software was shipped overnight as promised, just not to my attention, or [the manager], but to [the director’s] attention at the [headquarters building] which was then routed [off-site].

Confused? Me too!

That said, it’s done now and we’re running pretty well. [“Missy”] should be pleased to hear that so she can continue with the [new place’s] implementation schedule. [My boss] will be thrilled too because he can now order all of the new PCs and printers and scanners we’ll need. Of course [my co-worker] will also be happy because he enjoys talking to his network wiring vendor and can go ahead with that too.

I love it when everybody is happy.

Your pal,

bob

Do I want to get fired? Not really. I’ve found that the folks I deal with at the software vendor are pretty good natured (except, maybe, “Missy”) and don’t really mind when I tell them bad news about their product. Their “mission critical” product, to be sure, but it’s just a tool and we’re all just people muddling through it all. There’s no reason to be antagonistic about any of it. Problems, crashes, lack of support, the lot. It’s not worth it.

Your pal,

bob

It’s Rather Warm, Isn’t It?

Kids, rolling blackouts are hitting Southern California this afternoon. That’s understandable I suppose, if this were a third world country, but it’s not. We like our low taxes so much that we find this electricity problem to be an acceptable trade-off to paying for power plants or new transmission lines or purchase agreements with other states outside our little grid. Sure, old and/or weakened individuals may perish in the heat when their precious air conditioners are shut off, but what can you do? Our taxes are already too high, right?

Collateral damage? Regrettable but within the range of acceptable losses?

Um, no.

Uninterruptible power supplies are flying off the shelf, laptops too (I suspect it’s the lovely mix of svelte computing power combined with the in-built power supplies). You can turn a crank to charge your phone and your radio. You can plug your house into your Diesel hybrid pickup. Should this consumption be channelled into, oh I don’t know, improved infrastructure? Hell, that’s almost un-American isn’t it?

The batteries are a kludge. The real fix is new wires but we won’t do it because we’re too comfortable. Sweating.

Your pal,

bob

Would That Be “Narrowband?”

Dialing up, my friends. Oh yeah, surfin’ the web, low and slow.

The phone is finally in and the Airport Extreme (I’m craving a Mountain Dew right now for some reason, can’t put my finger on why though) is pounding down the Innernut like undergrads with a case of Natural Light at an incontinence-inducing 48,000 bits per second. Yee haw!

(so text only, no external links, no pictures until the weekend? – ed You got it slappy. – bob)

The good news though, is that I’ll be able to post more often then “maybe every so often, perhaps.” (maybe not so good for everybody. – ed) The bad news is, well, there IS no bad news! (thanks pollyanna. – ed Wow, you got awfully grumpy while on hiatus. Geez. – bob)

Thanks for hanging in there. There’s a big post sitting on a USB flash drive somewhere around here so I’ll put that up as soon as I can. Meanwhile, more tonight.

Still your pal,

bob

As Promised…

I actually do have some fine pictures showing off some of the detail in our new house. These show some of the little bits that when combined actually make the place—in my mind anyway—”cute.” I was sold.

But first, this very unfortunate picture (not photoshopped, sadly for the driver).

They really could have selected a better name. Any other name.

Now, on with our show…

I’ve never seen a light fixture quite like this before. It takes a special bulb (of course) with a silver coating to reflect light up towards the ceiling. The joy of having the bulb stick out of the bottom is that you can see what fine American manufacturer constructed it. It’s like product placement from a simpler time.

Sure, you may have a peephole, but this one is almost grand. You don’t so much show up at our doorstep as much as you must announce your arrival.

I can’t make a wall go around a corner and I certainly can’t do that with tile either. Amazing.

…and the curviness continues throughout the bathroom. The fixtures are original and NOT BROKEN. They’re sixty years old and in great shape. Could it be the coolest part of the house?

The front door lockset is original too. Sure, go ahead and find a key. I dare you. It eats aluminum blanks for lunch. Our landlady calls this a feature. In a sense, duplicate keys “expire,” which pleases her to no end. I’m pretty happy about that too considering the former tenants (but that’s another story).

More text-based bits later,

bob

Moving Day – Plus Four

Kids, I have to say that I like this place a lot. Like a lovely old British car, this place has all the “special instructions” you could ever want. The lock for the deadbolt in the front door turns the wrong way. Don’t screw the lightbulbs into the bathroom light fixture all the way, or they won’t work. Check for bees buzzing in the wall in the garage before plugging in the dryer. Point the shower head away from the window so you don’t get the doves nesting there wet. Go to Lightbulbs, Etc. off of Morena if you need to replace the special lamps in the living and dining room fixtures, it’s the only place in town to get them…

You get the idea. Special Instructions. I think The Jeepster’s special instructions are documented here. My old Ford Courier had special instructions, as does The 1912 House. The clutch sticks. Jiggle that switch. Unlock the passenger door with a key to disable the alarm. It’s all very charming and adds character to the inanimate objects I interact with every day.

If you go for that sort of thing, as I clearly do, there’s really nothing better. After all, why shell out for some security system when the basic controls for the things that a bad guy might wish to lift are too difficult to operate without a friendly tutorial? That said, the systems I’m working with right now also have certain special instructions.

My coconspirators in the I.T. Department at San Diego’s Omnipresent Charitable Organization are flummoxed by my descriptions of the headaches involved in my job. “What do you do all day?” is an interesting question. I usually answer with another; “Do you really want to know?” I support a software environment that must be 100 percent reliable, but isn’t. I rebuild the database. I restart the interface from my system to the client database. I keep the workstations running. I load paper when they can’t print (!). And, not kidding, I tell them why things are happening they way they are.

They appreciate the trust in their ability to comprehend, but they still don’t get it.

That, I knew.

But I still try. And I continue to fail. That’s what I do all day, every day. You’d think it’d get monotonous, but there’s always a new thing to try to explain. A new thing to confound my people (not users, not customers, that’s too intra-departmental for my liking).

I simply attempt to share the special instructions like don’t click the X in the window, choose File/Exit instead.

Pictures in a couple hours!

Your pal,

bob

Reasonable And Prudent

I’ve been looking lately for just the right case for my iPod and I think I’ve just found it…

Your pal,

bob

We All Haul!

Friends, not to sound like a broken record, but we’re moving this weekend. Hopefully it’ll be the last move for a good long while. One-year leases will do that, you know. Posts are going to be pretty short for a while, at least until next weekend.

The Seattle trip was productive and the weather was lovely. Not a lot of pictures though. The camera has been giving me fits lately so I missed a lot of great shots as they presented themselves and soon went away. I think the Microdrive might be giving up the ghost after all this time. Maybe somebody knows something about that (please leave a comment if you can point me in the right direction).

More later (when stuff calms down again).

Your best pal,

bob

A Bittersweet Moon Landing Day…

Kids, I forgot the Tang. No Swiss Cheese. No Moon Landing Day parties here at the little house. That and the man we simply knew as Scotty passed on today. It’s a good time to think about space, isn’t it?

Oh, and where’s that shuttle launch?

There’s much more stuff to report, but I’m dialing up at the moment. More stuff on the new house. More on the Lodge. Good new stuff from the conference in Seattle next week.

It’ll be swell. You’ll see.

Your best pal,

bob

NOTE: Links courtesy BoingBoing.net. Thanks for the fun!

Only The Light Things Float To The Top

The heavy stuff, that’s for another post (or maybe further down this one). I’m writing this from the old PowerBook G3 (Lombard, even!) partially because it has a better keyboard, partially because I’m sitting on the front stoop of our little rental house. Sure, the neighborhood has cleaned up considerably in the last five years, but not enough to sit out here and advertise to the world that there’s a new(ish) iBook on offer inside the place. There are some legitimately low-life individuals walking by here at times, although not as often as was once the case, I hear. No, I didn’t think those guys were really crying, sensitive new age guys. I knew those tears were tattoos fer crissakes. What do you take me for anyway? A rube? A dupe? A patsy?

Please.

I was wondering why those pretty ladies got dressed up to attend cocktail parties so early in the afternoon though. Just striving to be punctual, I guess. And they are walking to their parties after all.

By the way, did I mention that we’re moving? Yep, after a long month and half, we’re moving on at the request of our landlord (sounds so feudal when it’s put like that, doesn’t it?). He had originally imagined the house we’re renting to be an income property—and we haven’t disappointed—but there was a little surprise in his life that changed those plans. That little surprise is due to see the light of day in, oh, another couple months so we’re out. We knew that would be a possibility though, so nobody’s too shocked by the news. We haven’t really unpacked yet, so it’s better that we hear it now so we don’t get too settled in. Oh, that and the washing machine in the middle of the house that’s spewing out wash water as I write this. I’ll try to fix that later, but dammit, I’ve laundry to do now.

Between the leaks and the ants and the dried up lawn and the serious itty-bittiness of the place, I think moving is best. Besides, we’re working on a deal where we’d swap into the house that the landlord is renting a couple miles East of here. More house, more yard, more real rooms, for a hundred bucks more a month (and a twelve month lease). It sounds like the washing machine works too. I know, whee!

I have virtually nothing here though, so moving me will be easy. My roommates, on the other hand, despite paring down their collections of crap, have plenty of heavy things to trundle across town. It’ll be fun though. There’s serious entertaining potential at the new place. That and tree-lined streets and nice neighbors. I don’t have any pictures yet (sorry kids), but the new landlord has really worked to preserve the 1940 Art Moderne aesthetic designed into that place. Think streamliner. Think upscale tract home. Think bungalow. To give you an idea, he stripped paint to find the bottom layer and matched that. There are some serious “House Of The Future” features in that place. I think you’ll like it. I know I do.

Gearhead Alert!

So, the mighty Dodge Dakota has a nervous tic. Maybe more than a tic, it more closely resembles a tick, tick, tick.

It’s the last year of the first body style (best described as slabby like the old Rams before they got so proud of fenders) and has the Jeep 2.5 liter OHV four. On cold startup, the thing hesitates to start which I can’t fault it for—I’m not thrilled about getting up either—and ticks and chuffs like a blown exhaust gasket might be the cause. There are a couple more things that I think I should look at though. The EGR valve has been reported all over the Innernut to stick and might be the culprit. The other worry is that the previous owner abused the thing so bad that he burnt a valve (eek!) or stuck a lifter (not too terrible) or bent a rod (yikes!) or burnt the oil and clogged the pump (high oil pressure, don’t you know).

My question to you is what do you think I should look at first? Please post a comment in, well, the comments.

Wrap Up Alert!

Okay, I’m easing back into regular postings. Thanks for sticking with it.

You know, as things start to calm down…

Your best pal in the whole wide world,

– bob

The Monkey Wrapped His Tail ‘Round The Flagpole…

Friends, it seems that there a couple things I should’ve known before the July 4th holiday. First, no matter how much icing you put on a cake…

…if its primary ingredients are salt and vinegar, you can’t help but be disappointed with dessert.

The cake, in this charming metaphor, was the cabin itself. No manner of icing, or gingerbread, or little touches were enough to glaze over the undercurrent of familial discontent that rose to the surface that bright weekend. That’s neither here nor there though. As they say, I don’t have a dog in that hunt.

What I do know is that most of us had a good time. There was giggling:

there was fishing…

a little parade…

a nice pony in that same parade…

little kids playing in the dirtiest dirt in the western United States…

somebody who might need a nap…

…and, oh yeah, cake.

More later,

bob

Profiles In Courage…

Howdy pals,

Just a quick note to fill the gap between the last from a long time ago and the next, but photo-filled, action packed post. The siblings, their significant others, their kids, and my parents have descended (ascended?) on The Damp Dog Lodge for a long weekend of holiday making. The courage part? How does listening to a two year old screeching about the injustice of having to sit down in a chair at the dinner table grab you? Like a heart attack? Like a super-secret government hypersound pain weapon?

Yeah, me too.

The pups are here too and they’re fully enjoying the great outdoors and the “one for me, one for the dogs” eating style employed by the kids. And the eating! If we keep up this pace, the deck will never support our combined weight. This is especially true with all the goodies being served.

I need to invite good cooks up here more often.

More later…

– bob

P.S. I have about seventy pictures trapped in the camera vying for a position in the next post. You’ll be amazed!

Are You Sure?

I’ve moved into three houses in the last, oh, eight months and it’s taught me a few things. The first thing I’ve learned is patience. People work on their own schedules and they often don’t coincide with my own. That’s fine for them, I suppose, but it makes me crazy nonetheless. The other bit of education is that in each jump I find myself further removed from The 1912 House™ and everything that entails. Yeah, everything.

The phone rang at lunchtime and the caller asked me if I was sure I wanted to file papers to drive the final nail in the life I once held dear. What do you say to something like that? How do you tell someone who you once thought of as the be-all and end-all that it has actually ended. And should you do that while you’re waiting in the queue at the drive thru behind the burrito shop? My friends, that discussion at that moment in that place perfectly encapsulated my life right now and “awkward” is the only way to describe it. Oh, “harried” fits too. How about “tumultuous?” You pick.

Haven’t answered the question though, have I?

Yes, I’m sure. Saddened (once again), but sure. It’s time.

Your pal,

bob

UPDATE: Oh, you’ve gotta check out the comments. Trust me, click on the link below.

Just A Wee Update

Sometimes problems present themselves. Other times, we create our own. This is one of those other times.

I can’t go into details simply because I can’t tell at the moment who’s reading this (popping on and off the neighbor’s broadband has its disadvantages). What I can say is that we have a certain amount of cosmetic tomfoolery to do at the new house so we don’t get busted for a white lie we told when we signed the rental agreement. Our new landlord might actually be cool with our little arrangement but I’m not going to test that theory.

I keep telling myself that this is temporary, but the intervening temporary months shouldn’t have to become a sticky mess. Let’s just get along and what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. You know?

Oh, there’s something else too. The intersection in front of the house is extraordinarily busy for a dead end. Didn’t see that coming.

WARNING! Big Fat Jump Ahead…

I’m set to bring the last furniture bits up to The Lodge this weekend. That’ll be the last of that so if everyone doesn’t have a perfect individual place to sleep/sit/rest their dinner plate, then so be it. I’m done. The last bit is a patio table with four chairs that have seemingly been around the world at this point. I’m going to paint the set flat black to match the Jeepster (I’m big on continuity, you know) and I’ll spend the rest of the weekend painting bathrooms white (continuity again).

(this is going on and on. some “wee update!” -ed Okay, I had more to say. Geez, you should be thrilled. -bob)

And for those of you following that drama, my writing partner is safe and well. Her situation has improved and she doesn’t appear to be moving any time soon. This came as a shock to me, as you might imagine. I heard hope in her voice today though, and that’s enough for me. It sounds trite to remark that if she’s happy I am too, but that’s the case here. I didn’t know what to do for her in the middle of the mess she was experiencing so I’m glad that it seems to have worked itself out. I still worry, of course, but that’s my nature.

Whew! (I hope)

Your crisis-averse pal,

bob

FUN BIT: The Electronic Frontier Foundation (EFF) has published a neat primer on legal issues facing bloggers in the United States—in China they just torture you and cut off your hands (or sic Microsoft on you)—that helps lay out the rights and responsibilities of folks like me in this space. I think I’m in the clear here for everything on this page and in the archives, but if you’re mad about stuff I’ve written about you (and you know who you are) just let me know and we’ll work something out.