Happy Easter!
It’s been a good weekend so far (if a little food-centric). The folks are here and nobody has been injured at this point. That’s pretty good in my book.
Care for a jelly bean?
Your pal,
bob
Useful? You Bet We Are!
I was just taking a look at the logs this morning, and a visitor from Japan (Howdy!) was looking for something I didn’t even know I covered…
…but our good friends at MSN Japan delivered the goods and put this post at the top of the results returned.
Relevant, thoughtful, insightful. A Jaunty Little Blog is your source for, well, everything.
You’re welcome.
– bob
You’re An Irredeemable Monkey!
Okay, I couldn’t think of a relevant headline, but get this: John Ashcroft is all about prosecuting pr0n!
Thank Jah that the terrorists have been defeated, that the Enron scammers are behind bars, and that the narco-gangs are no more. Whew! Good job guys!
So I guess if the FCC boobie-blowback isn’t getting to you, maybe Ashcroft’s personal crusade might. You think the Powell v. Rumsfeld cat fight is a screechy mess? I wonder how Tommy “Abstinence” Thompson is dealing with Johnny “God Will Unleash A Terrible Rath” Ashcroft when the Attorney General is trying to take away some of the—ahem—tools that make abstinence possible.
Fire and brimstone stuff, people!
How does the political calculus add up for these people? Sure, the President has done a yeoman job of prosecuting the War. He’s certainly taken it to the enemy, even drawing the looniest of loons into our waiting arms in places like Fallujah (Syrian fighters amongst the “disaffected, but otherwise peaceful Iraqi freedom seekers?” Who could see that coming?), but in EVERYTHING ELSE the guy is a pure menace.
Or, rather, his guys.
Can Kerry do better. He’d better.
I certainly hope that some omniscient, omnipresent being can help us, because we’re in it pretty deep down here.
I think I’ll go take the dogs to a wide open, leash-free public open space now so they can hunt the Easter Bunny. Pictures to follow.
Your pal,
bob
It’s A Beautiful—snort!—Morning
Not a cloud in the—achoo!—sky, just a light breeze here at The 1912 House. I took care of a little gardening—sniffle!—yesterday and the yards look lovely. I just hope that they won’t appear ragged for Easter weekend. The folks are coming, as are the—slurp!—various familial refugees who just want to—honk!—stay in town and have a quiet dinner.
I think we’ll even attend—snkxxx!—Mass at our local historic mission in the morning (despite my eschewing the—hoot!—whole “bells and smells” thing), followed up by an egg hunt that will end up—achoo!—being a timed event (by our hungry and energetic dogs).
At this moment, I’m just waiting for the—wheeze!—phone call to start work, so I’ll bide my time by finishing up—ah-ah-ah-achoo!—some of the projects I’ve allowed to linger. That, and I’ll be getting—sniff!—angry whenever anybody mentions “quagmire.” You’re—achoo!—welcome.
This post was brought to you by—schnarfuffle!—Benadryl-D.
Your pal,
bob
UPDATE: I’ve added a link to the “quagmire” reference that will lead you to another thoughtful Den Beste tract. You could do much worse than to follow it (and read the rest of his writing). -bob
SGML? – On Its Head!
Since I laid down the post about the endless questions about my SGML aptitude (or lack thereof), I’ve heard something about them that’s marginally disturbing—that they don’t pay very well. That wasn’t really an issue at the time as I needed something, anything, that was stable. Since then though, I’ve received another offer that kicks the previous offer to the curb (After a certain amount of time under the bus? -ed You bet! -bob). I can’t get into specifics about the job right now, fearing that the jinx my rear its ugly head, but I can relate how positive the prospect sounds.
It’s great, and it should pay money that people who are in their, ahem, late thirties should be making. Or at least by the yardstick that the universe has handed me I should be making. (Wow, that made no sense at all. -ed You’re right. I just couldn’t figure out a better way to say it. -bob)
It’s also possible that this is a sure thing!
But you know me, I have to worry about something. I’m worrying about you right now. My other clients are wondering what this means to them. For the most part it means that I’ll be able to get your stuff done on the nights and weekends, with one notable exception—the dreaded Shopping Cart Fiasco.
I have a web client who wants a shopping cart on his site. The problem is that I don’t know how to build it for cheap. I have the first clue, but not the second, or even the third. He wants it done for no money, so third-party secure hosting is out. He wants to accept credit cards, but doesn’t want to incur the expense of adding the online payment features that his card machine vendors have been spamming his mailbox with.
If you have any thoughts on this, I would love to hear them. My client is giving me no end of grief about it.
You rule. Thanks.
Your pal,
bob
UPDATE: This post has been edited because I put my foot in it and said too much. Sorry guys.
“So, What Do You Know About SGML?”
Quite a lot, actually. I know enough to know that SGML isn’t really about anything until you decide what the bits of information you enclose in tags are supposed to mean.
Why should you care? You shouldn’t need to know a single solitary thing about SGML during the course of your entire lifetime (it’s not usually something that comes up in party chit-chat).
I was asked the question today however, but rather that offering the straightforward “It’s tagged information,” I did my little tap dance about data resources, information design, and other digi-hoo-haw. (but hell, I could get a nice job out of that shuck-and-jive, so why not?)
It certainly has the potential to beat the pants off of my current line of work, which is a baby step up from unemployment. In fact, tomorrow, I will be painting the inside of a garage. The inside. Just the drywall parts, mind you, but the inside of a garage.
My garage has no drywall. No paint. Very few amenities at all. That fact did not deter me for a moment from signing the papers on this place. I wonder what makes people in Orange County, California feel so entitled? It’s certainly not the prices. Ours are much higher. I have a theory:
I propose that Orange County is actually a replica of America. It’s nearly perfect in every detail: they have a Lowe’s, a Costco, an Albertson’s. There seem to be tiny flaws though, and the flaws point out that the aliens who constructed Orange County missed some things and were blinded by others.
– Some people in America have SUVs, but everyone in O.C. has one, and the bigger the better.
– There are traffic lights in America, but O.C. has a light every twenty-five feet.
– People in America who shop at big-box warehouse stores, but everybody in O.C. does and seems to like it.
– When you live in a gated community and pay homeowner’s association dues, chances are that you’re paying for a communal landscape service as well. If that’s the case, chances are also good that you won’t need a lawnmower. People in O.C. look at that big, empty, finished garage and seem to develop an overwhelming need to fill it. Chances are high that they will fill it with a lawnmower. Chances are above 50-50 that it will be a riding lawnmower (but lower if the SUV is too big).
I’m heading back there tomorrow to paint the inside of a garage, so blogging will be very light. Pray for me.
Your best pal,
bob
Repent!
You knew this was coming…
Go visit the Church Sign Generator to build your own!
Now go, ye, and sin no more.
bob
Just Some Things That Caught My Eye
Mr. and Mrs. Dog love to go to Fiesta Island here in San Diego. It’s a lovely place as far as reclaimed scrap heaps go. It appears to be a natural place, an island in a sea of development, if you will, and the dogs know no difference.
Neither do the birds, lizards, field mice or rabbits, but it’s the rabbits that are the problem. To spite the calendar, the rabbits at the Island have decided that it actually is springtime so they’re churning out babies like nobody’s business. This, um, intrigues Mr. Dog. It intrigues him to the point of distraction, to the point of Doggie Deafness.
It’s a tragic condition, of course. It causes strange neurological effects, like the sudden urge to stuff your nose in a hole. It also forces one to stray far afield.
Now, I’ve developed quite a loud whistle to get that certain dog’s attention. It’s a finger-less whistle, you know, the one where you force your tongue against your lower jaw, holding the lower lip tight against the bottom teeth. Unfortunately, I’ve also taught the dogs a certain tune to get them to return to my side. The classic Wolf Whistle.
The scene: dogs galloping away, led by the scent of easy prey (baby bunnies!). Male jogger passing by. Me, distracted by something shiny, losing track of dogs.
I turned, tried to discover their whereabouts, then let out the big whistle.
Then the jogger stopped and turned around.
“Oh no, not you!”
Jogger turns crimson.
Dogs return.
Good times,
bob
Good times.
It’s Okay To Eat Fish ‘Cuz They Don’t Have Any Feelings
…but this! It’s an abomination!
Your pal,
bob
Resistance Is Okay, I Guess. Never Mind Us.
In the Very Important Special Alert Notification! post from a few days ago I requested submissions for a little project. Let’s take a look at the mailbag!
Two entries.
Two lovely, glowing entries. Both of you like me, you really like me! Apparently my other two readers felt that since they couldn’t say something nice, they wouldn’t say anything at all. I respect that in sort of a Judeo-Christian/Puritan kind of way, but I’m welcoming all comments. Positive, negative, right-side up, upside down, inside, outside, whatever you wish.
Frankly, I was hoping for a little vitriol.
I’ll keep the contest open for a little while longer and if I don’t receive anything else, I’ll just finely dice the submissions that have come across the threshold to suit my evil ends.
As for the job scene, I’ve become exceedingly busy with a giant pile of non-jobs. Old writing clients have returned for freshening of their pieces, my “not a handyman” jobs are flowing in at a furious pace, I expect to hear from a gentleman about a honest-to-Jah cubicle warming position in a couple of days, and (wait for it) jury duty starts on Thursday.
All of this should mean nothing for you, dear reader, save this: I anticipate plenty of good new material in the next few days. To be honest, writing for this thing has been harder lately because I’ve had to tiptoe around some issues. I’ll summarize the situation this way, I’ve made a bargain to leave certain topics and people off of Mr. Jaunty. That’s a good thing, in a sense, but doing that has effectively lopped thirty percent of material from the short list of topics (by my rough calculation).
Gee, maybe I should fall back on more chicken hawk posts! Maybe I should do something about the parallels between the presumptive Democratic presidential nominee and a certain famous San Diego eatery. Perhaps I can take a trip to Target.
That’s why I didn’t try to get out of jury duty. I need to get out.
Your best pal,
bob
Very Important Special Alert Notification!
I have signed on to join the hive mind at Aquent. They aren’t a temp agency, so just purge your mind of that thought right now. Instead, they host a wellspring of the brightest (unemployed) creative talent in the country and seek to place those shining stars in contracts with the nation’s most progressive (cheapest) companies.
My handlers at Aquent have encouraged me to create a personal webspace/resume/samples hole on their site (despite the brilliance of bobtherieau.com? The nerve!). I thought that it might be fun to comply, but I’ll need your help.
I have a Ken Burns kind of idea going for the thing, so I respectfully ask that you send some sort of short piece about me. It can be anything, really. If you hate my writing, send me something about that. If you like what you see here, write a short piece about that. If you simply have a short quote about anything that I’ve done or that you anticipate I will do, send that. I’ll pull it out, put it in a giant font and place it in the middle of the piece. Please also be aware that I’ll attribute anything you say to you, but feel free to treat this as seriously as I will (not very).
Am I brilliant? A hack? A dupe? A creep? An insightful commentator on the state of the world? A bloviated, self-important navel-gazer? Perhaps something in between? It’s your pick.
Send your pieces (under 100 words if you can manage it) to bob@bobtherieau.com with “We Bow In Tribute To The Gods At Aquent” in the subject line.
Oh, by the way, I need your submissions as soon as humanly possible simply because I want to build the subsite this weekend if I get enough material.
Thanks folks!
bob
WHAT DO I GET OUT OF THIS? UPDATE: Gosh, that’s a good question. I guess if we apply the standard Jaunty Rules (The selection of winning submissions is solely at my discretion, as is the prize selection—which may be worth not much at all, but may be worth hundreds of dollars depending on how good your stuff is—and is subject to the laws of the state you live in [or not]), I’ll assign a bigger prize from the closet for a “pull quote,” a smaller prize for any quote that goes into the body copy, and honorable mention here for everyone who submits an entry. Contrary to Jaunty Rules, I feel the need to use your real name on the Aquent site, but if you want to remain anonymous here just let me know. Also, I may chop the hell out of your submission in a vain attempt to make it as compelling as possible. If you don’t want me to do that, let me know.
I think this is going to be very fun, so don’t be deterred by the deadline I’ve imposed. Tell your friends! If they submit something for the contest make sure that they include their postal address so I can send them a prize too (if they make the cut)!
Perhaps A Different Color Of Green
After popping a couple antacids and ironing a dress shirt that brings out the burst blood vessels in my eyes, I headed out yesterday to celebrate Spring Interview Season as nervous as a Pakistani building inspector. The trepidation was warranted, but without going into unseemly details, I’ll simply mention the ongoing theme:
“What the hell do these people want me to say!”
They ask a question, I give a concise answer, they ask for additional detail while still smiling, I elaborate, and the smiles evaporate. It’s interesting to note at this point that I was nervous but you picked up on that, right? And that was the FIRST interview.
No! Wait! That wasn’t the real answer! I didn’t mean it! Wait! Yes I did! That was a real and very sincere answer! Maybe I can further elaborate! Oh! Have I gone on too long already?
sigh
The second interview went much better. How much, you ask? How about this: When the interview began, they were considering six other people. By the time the interview ended, they only thought that they had to consider two other people (even then, just as a courtesy). And yes, I like that a lot.
Now we wait.
Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap,
– bob
It’s Green!
Well friends, it’s getting near my bedtime (sure it’s only 8:57, but I’m an early riser and I need a good solid nine to function properly), but I have a lot of preparation to do for the big day tomorrow. I hate to say it, but at this moment I’m slamming the Mountain Dew and blasting a techno stream from KCRW over iTunes so I can stay awake and get the rest of this stuff done.
I’m here to tell you that the Dew will really mess you up, and I don’t mean that in a good way. Kinda woozy, actually.
Two job interviews tomorrow, each job with upsides and dark underbellies. One doesn’t pay very well but promises security. The other is just the opposite, or so I’ve been told. I’ve also been told that either is mine for the taking.
Sounds like fun, eh?
BTW, the KCRW stream just crapped out. Maybe it’s trying to tell me something.
Your best pal,
bob
Reference Alert!
Friends, I implore you. If you receive a phone call from a stranger who is asking you about me, please feel free to tell that person that I am the greatest guy in the whole wide world. I’m really neat, a snappy dresser, I don’t require male enhancement medications, that I can sing, dance and like the great taste of Nabisco Wheat Thins—A LOT! Also say that I’m friendly, easy to get along with, have a keen insight into the workings of today’s marketplace, my finger on the pulse of any demographic group they ask you about, that I can work well in small groups (or large groups or medium-sized groups).
What I’m asking, basically, is that you lie for me.
Is that so wrong?
Your very best pal ever,
bob
P.S. More on this thing in a bit. Just be cool, okay?
Oh Dear!
First off, the Socialists won the Spanish elections in a landslide. How’s that for the terrorists changing a political outcome? Aznar was no peach, but to corrupt a phrase, he was our peach. Does this mean that all the splodydopes (I still like that term, but I’m not sure why) have to do is blow something up before any election to get their way? Did Spanish voters give a bad dog the bone he was looking for?
What a terrible precedent.
So, anyway. How have you been? I’d tell you how I’m doing, but doing so would violate the rules here at Jaunty Central. I can tell you that there’s big news ahead (of some sort, that I can’t talk about right now, get it?).
I can say that the Cox Cable’s fine Innernut connection has finally come back to life. How long has it been? Two weeks?
…and no, I can’t explain it. Neither can they.
More later (really!),
bob