Myths & Legends

Since we were recently on the subject of urban legends I had decided to write a post on an urban legend I knew to be true based on personal experience. The legend: Sharpie permanent markers by Sanford should not be used to label CD-ROMs. A chemical in the ink will eventually eat through the plastic and damage the CD.

Curiously enough, while researching this post, I could find no information about this at snopes.com and even found on a Sanford web site where Sanford says that Sharpies are safe for labeling CDs.

Go figure! As I heard it, Sanford had a notice on their web site validating this myth and even naming the chemical in the ink (probably diacetone alcohol) that was potentially damaging. The fix was to use a laundry marker (specifically named was Sanford’s Rub-a-dub marker) or one specifically formulated for marking on CDs.

Of course, I had dismissed this as pure crap as I had been using Sharpies to label CDs for years and had never encountered a problem. I had passed the information along to friends in an appropriate manner (i.e. I did not spam them) adding my own 2-cents about how “I’ve never had a problem.”

Then it happened. I was at work and a friend says, “Check this out,” as he was holding a CD I had witnessed him labeling with a Sharpie – that I most likely provided – just days before. He took the CD in his hands and rotated it so I could see the underside of the disc. I don’t know how it happened but there was a perfect mirror image of his labeling etched into the back side of the disc. It looked like someone had taken an awl, icepick or etching pencil and traced his writing.

I still have CDs I labeled with sharpies that work just fine. Some of them I’ve placed printable labels over for aesthetic reasons. The Sharpie ink sometimes bleeds through the label but almost any marker is going to do that.

To this day, that is the one and only instance I have ever witnessed or heard of where a Sharpie marker had damaged a CD. It was enough to convince me to stop using them. The Rub-a-dub markers don’t cost much more and I was actually fortunate enough to find some really nice TDK CD markers at Big Lots for $1 for a 4-pack.

Believe me or don’t. The choice is up to you.

Hookt on foniks werkt fer mee

I have been toying with the idea – again – of going back to school for a graduate degree. There are several reasons why I’m doing this. One of the biggest reasons is because I work at an institution of higher learning and am practically guaranteed time off for studies as well as financial assistance – in the form of tuition and fee waivers. Another reason might be that I’m getting frustrated with the job I have, I want to move ahead and in order to move to a level that I think I want to be at requires a graduate degree.

So why, in the fourteen years since I earned my Bachelor’s degree, have I never actually done anything about it? The primary reason is that I don’t know what to get a graduate degree in.

You see, I wasn’t one of those kids who grew up saying, “I want to be a [insert profession here] when I grow up.” To be sure, I went through the list of fireman, policeman, and superhero (doctor was never on the list) as any child does but never locked onto anything. The only constant has been that I love technology. That’s probably what attracted me to my undergraduate degree – that and the lack of math involved.

My Bachelor’s degree is in Radio and Television production. I briefly (very briefly) considered continuing with that but my heart wasn’t in it. I worked in the field for about eight years then did an about-face and started working in the Information Technology field (around the time the term was coined). I’ve also considered advanced degrees in education (I was a technical trainer at the time), business and technical writing.

I’ve most recently begun perusing the University web site for information about different degree programs. I think business is out. All of the management-related degrees require more accounting, statistics and economics than I’m willing to attempt. I’m sure I could pass them – especially with the assistance of my lovely wife, the research accountant – I just don’t want to do any permanent neurological damage. MIS is out as well. If I wanted to be a programmer, I would already be a programmer.

Education was looking really good for a while but I heard they stopped offering a specialization in curriculum design. It still has a chance but it’s appeal is waning.

That leaves us with English. I’ve always liked English. I think I write and speak well. I came within three credit-hours of having an English minor tacked onto my bachelor’s degree. This was partially due to a miscalculation of the required credit-hours several semesters prior to graduation and partially due to being involved in a wedding (mine) a week after graduation.

At any rate, one of the duties of my job I have always enjoyed has been preparing documentation. I find the process enjoyable and get a good feeling knowing that I’m working to make some poor schlub’s life easier.

So, what’s stopping me from diving in? In a word: FEAR.

I’m afraid I’ll make the wrong choice and end up learning all about a field I end up hating. I’ve already made one career switch. I don’t want to end up saying, “I didn’t know what I wanted to be when I grew up but I’m pretty sure this wasn’t it.”

I’m afraid I won’t be able to accomplish what I set out to do (fear of failure). This is, perhaps, the most easily dismissed.

I’m afraid of putting out the effort on top of all of the other stress I have in my life right now.

I’m afraid of not getting along with the faculty – as was the case for a co-worker – and having to leave to program (or risk not being passed) because of personality conflicts.

I’ve printed out information on the Tech Writing program here and I’ll be reviewing it. It’s still a 50/50 shot – maybe I will, maybe I won’t.

We Now Pause Our Regular Programming For This Public Service Announcement

That’s it. I’m tired of receiving email about the Swiffer Wet Jet killing pets and Great American Gas-Outs and how Microsoft is going to send me money simply for forwarding an email.

With all of the real virus activity in the past couple of years, I haven’t gotten many false virus reports but they come in, too.

This is the WORST kind of spam because it usually comes from someone you know and it has been forwarded to countless others.

Please please PLEASE PLEASE do not forward this kind of drivel. Check it out first. Here are a few links that may be helpful.

The Urban Legends Home Page: http://www.snopes.com
I have yet to be told of an urban legend that I have not found information on here. There is a pretty simple search engine on the site. For instance, typing in the word “swiffer” took me right to a link to the article referenced above.

The Virus Myths Homepage: http://www.vmyths.com
Did you get a virus alert from a co-worker? Is it real? This is the place to check. You can also usually find more information on real virus threats that, perhaps, your I.T. department sent you a warning about.

Toxic Excuses
This is an EXCELLENT article on avoiding cognitive pitfalls that may cause you to forward a possibly false email.

If you’ve checked these places and either can’t find the information you’re looking for or just aren’t quite sure, feel free to email it to me and I’ll GLADLY verify it for you. I am an I.T. professional and I take that very seriously.

Please feel free to reference this entry or use it in its entirety.

Stress-o-METER

It’s amazing what a difference lunch can make. I was in the process of writing a post about more of the BS I have to put up with around here lately (hence the title) and lunch interrupted it. Good thing because the blood pressure was riding pretty high. Now, with a full belly and a total escape, I’m feeling much more cordial.

I’m trying to maintain a good attitude. In fact, I woke up this morning and told myself not to stress out. “Just go in and make the best of it,” I told myself. I had every intention of doing that but when the events of the day were unexpectedly sprung on me yesterday, it kinda predisposed me to being cranky.

This whole project has felt like we’re constantly falling forward and our poor little legs are struggling to keep us upright. And that gets really tiring.

Fish Tail Soup for the Blogger’s Soul

This has actually been a difficult post to write. It’s not that there were so many exciting things that happened that I don’t know where to start. The problem is that I want to make it interesting.

That’s not to say that the weekend wasn’t interesting but I want to share the story, not just the facts.

I arrived at the hotel on Firday afternoon about ten minutes before dad so I sat in my car listening to the audio book I’d been using to pass the time on the road. It wasn’t long before dad showed up and we got checked in. By “checked in” I mean we made sure our key-cards worked, dropped off our suitcases then headed for Bennett Spring about 15 miles up the road.

When we arrived, we headed straight for the park store to get fishing licenses, etc. squared away. Once that was done, we headed back up to zone 1 for a little fly fishing.

When we got there, we were met by the sight of 15 or 20 fishermen standing in the water waving long sticks and making day-glo string dance about. There honestly isn’t much of a shoreline so the majority of the fishermen were wading. It was a little intimidating seeing that many dedicated fishermen in one place knowing that I don’t know the difference between an Adams Parachute and a Zonker and I certainly have no clue when to and when not to fish either of those. As dad was unpacking the rods and tackle I was so afraid of using the wrong type of lure or crossing someone’s line or just making mistakes that a 37-year-old man shouldn’t make that I honestly thought to myself, “What the hell am I doing here? I’m not a fisherman.” Plus, I was a little embarrassed that I’m 37 years old and I still need my dad to tell me how to bait my hook.

The feelings of inadequacy quickly vanished as soon as we got the lines wet. Once I remembered how the damn spinning reel worked, I got into the groove. The groove, unfortunately, was short-lived. I was cold, having left my jacket at the hotel, and the fish weren’t biting. We spent 30-45 minutes testing the waters then headed back to the store.

At the store I met one of dad’s fishing buddies, Lyndon. There’s nothing special to tell about Lyndon except that he’s who I met first. He and dad chatted a bit then examined a $60 fly fishing combo (rod & reel) the store was selling. Somehow, we killed another hour or so and it came time that we could buy our daily tags for Saturday.

Saturday was the big day. The KC Chapter of the Missouri Trout Fishermen’s Association sponsors a Kids’ Fishing Day and it was the start of the Spring Trout Derby. For $5 above and beyond any fishing tags and licenses you could register for prizes. The Hatchery at Bennett Spring released 60 tagged fish Friday night and another 40 Saturday evening. Between the first whistle at 6:30 am on Saturday and noon on Sunday, registered fishermen could bring in any tagged fish they caught and be registered for prizes after the close of the derby. Your turn at picking your prize would be determined by the tag number on your fish.

After buying our Saturday tags and registering for the derby, we spent some time chatting with other club members then finally headed back to the hotel.

Saturday morning dad and I enjoyed our complementary breakfast of eggs, hash browns, coffee and a biscuit and headed for the park. We dropped our lines for half an hour, swapping flies every four or five minutes and caught… nothing. After that, we decided to go see how the kids’ fishing was going.

The “honey hole” was packed with kids and lined with tents registering first fish, demonstrating fly tying, and showing off the talents of the people from Tailgate Taxidermy (that’s the name of the business, I swear). This last was, by far, the most interesting – at least to me. Next to all of the inanimate critters the owner, I presume, had borrowed a great horned owl, a screech owl and some sort of raptor similar to a red-tail hawk from a local bird sanctuary and had them on display. These were live birds! My camera loved them.

The club was handing out donuts and coffee so we located them and assisted. I resisted the Krispy Kremes as long as I could but after an hour they were just too much. I only had one, though.

As the morning wore on, the table offerings began to shift. Cases of individual-serving potato chips were stacked at the ready as were boxes of miscellaneous Little Debbie snack cakes. Eventually, two grills were brought in and started heating.

Lunch time.

For the kids, the MTFA serves hot dogs, chips, soda and… Little Debbie snack cakes. There were also plenty of Krispy Kreme doughnuts left.

Even though I’m not at all involved with the club - except that dad is a member, I assisted in making sure there were plenty of snack cakes and doughnuts at the ready. I also dug through the ice-cold troughs of soda to bring a variety to the surface. The funny part about that was that the troughs were loaded long before dad and I got there. It originally looked like they had Mountain Dew, Lemonade, Diet Dr. Pepper and Sierra Mist. As the top layers were removed and the ice started to melt, we unearthed Pepsi, Diet Pepsi, caffeine-free Pepsi, caffeine-free Mountain Dew (who knew they made that?), and two cans of diet Sierra Mist.

That was actually a lot of fun. It gave me something to do other than stand around watching dad sit and give his fishing buddies a hard time. It would have been interesting had they been swapping fish stories but everyone seemed to be batting zero for the day.

After feeding the kiddos, the club adjourned to another shelter for burgers, brats and their annual state-wide meeting. Hey, if you’re going to have a state-wide meeting for a fisherman’s association, you might as well have it somewhere that you all like to fish.

Once the meeting was over, dad and I decided it was time to hit the stream again. We went back up to the area we had been on Friday. I stayed with what I had been using but dad tried a different tactic. He decided to put the fly on a leader and, using a bobber strike indicator, he started casting upstream and let the fly float with the current. This was apparently appealing to at least one fish because dad landed one in short order. It wasn’t tagged so he let it go.

In the true spirit of the sport, everyone close to us asked the question that always comes immediately after a fish is caught… “What are you using?” Even though dad told them – a white grub – nobody switched. I did switch tactics, though. I moved to the cast-and-float method but used a different color fly.

Dad and I fished about an hour and a half total, swapping flies every once in a while, but neither of us caught anything else. On our way out, we stopped by the store again. While we were there, dad ran into one of the club members.

“Any luck?” he asked (the mating call of the fisherman)
“I caught a nice little rainbow. He was about 12 inches. Real pretty colors.”

I thought about this later. I don’t remember the fish being that “pretty” but I surmised that 12 inches was probably close to accurate. While in Colorado last October, I caught a 10.5 inch rainbow (we measured it) and this one seemed a little bigger.

As dad was repacking his tackle bag Saturday night, he pulled out all of the flies we had used during the day - you're not supposed to put them away wet so we just dropped them into one of the pockets on the bag. Between the two of us I'd bet there were a dozen flies and only one of them had worked.

Sunday morning we didn’t roll out quite as early. We again scarfed down our complimentary breakfast of eggs, hash browns, biscuit and coffee and headed straight for the water. I baited up with a white grub and floated it in the current.

About 10 feet out into the stream, you could see the bottom. Past that, it was a little murky on Sunday. What I found most fun was that you could see the fish moving in the clearer parts. As I would reel in, I could see the fish at least notice my lure. More than a few times, I would see a fish notice my lure, lock onto it, follow it, consider it, then decide, “Nah, I think I’ll have Chinese instead.”

About 10:30 on Sunday, after testing the waters in zone 1 and zone 2, we headed for Shelter B where the tagged fish prizes were being handed out. That’s when I got to experience fish stories first hand. As people came up to dad and asked how we’d done, he’d tell them about the single rainbow trout he caught. With each telling, the fish became slightly larger and more beautiful. By the end of the weekend, it had grown to somewhere around 16 inches and was, “the most beautiful rainbow I’ve ever seen.”

Maybe it was the most beautiful he’d seen. To me it was just a fish – mostly because it wasn’t on the end of my line. In my memory, the 10.5” rainbow I caught in Colorado was prettier.

But I digress.

At the prize ceremony, there were hamburgers, bratwurst, hot dogs, chips and cobbler left over from the meeting on Saturday. They’re just as good reheated.

Of the 100 tagged fish released, 13 were caught. This meant plenty of prizes would be leftover and raffled off. The prizes were quite nice. They had three fly rods, a couple of sets of FRS radios, about four pair of compact binoculars, some fishing vests and jackets, hand-tied flies, and lots of fly tying materials. Even though the majority of the prizes were of little use to me, I kicked in ten bucks to support the association and got 12 tickets.

For the derby winners (those that caught tagged fish), the fly rods went first – duh. After that went FRS radios, sleeping bags, and some of the binoculars. (I had my eye on a hat from the Bennett Spring general store.) Once the winners were done picking their prizes, they started calling numbers for the raffle.

Surprisingly, in short order, one of my numbers was called. Unfortunately, the winner just before me took the hat and the FRS radios were all gone. I thought about picking up the last pair of binoculars but I have three pair at home – why do I need another? In the end, I grabbed a small tackle bag that will probably end up holding camera equipment.

By the time it was over, four of my numbers had been called. A few people had their numbers called several times more than that but I think everyone who participated in the raffle won at least once. I ended up with the aforementioned bag, a mug, a Bennett Spring baseball cap and a box of hand-tied flies that I gave to dad. He’d told me he wanted them so when they pulled my second number and dad hadn’t won anything yet, I grabbed them and gave them to him.

At the end of the raffle they pulled out three extra-special prizes that they specifically held for the raffle. Included was a $300 fly fishing rod designed by Jim Rogers who works out of Bennett Spring state park. I would have loved to have won that or seen dad win it but it wasn’t meant to be.

Once all the prizes were gone, everyone started saying goodbye and so did dad and I. He dropped me off at my car (I had driven from the hotel separately Sunday morning) and I went home with another weekend of memories… much better than any fish.

Opinions, please

I need a little help for a project I'm working on that is not blog-related. It's a simple request:

Define "service"

You can either leave comments or email me

OW! My pancreas!

I have a riding lawnmower. If you saw my yard you may wonder why - it's easily handled with a standard push mower. The riding mower is a leftover from our previous house that was three long lots and comprised something like a half acre.

That's not the important part of this.

I stayed home from work today to get some things done around the house since I wasn't here over the weekend. One of the tasks was to mow the lawn, which I did... until I broke the lawnmower.

Yep, I broke the lawnmower. The 18 horsepower, twin-blade, 42-inch cut riding lawnmower.

It still starts fine. The engine still runs. There's a leak in one of the tires but it's not bad. The belt is intact as are the blades.

So, how did I break the lawnmower?

You know that curvy part of the curb at the end of your driveway? For those of you that don't have a driveway, go take a look at someone else's. You'll notice that the curb bends in where the "ramp" at the end of the driveway is. That's what I'm talking about.

I had already finished mowing the main part of the yard and was working on the "strip" on the West side of the driveway. I had maybe one more pass and decided to swing out into the driveway around the back of the truck to come at the remaining grass from the "top". Because of the way the grass had grown or something, I completely mis-guaged the gap between the ground and the top of the curb and the curvy part.

BANG!

I hit it at full speed and the edge of the mowing deck connected. I hit so hard, it knocked loose six years of caked-on dirt and grass. It hit so hard that it dented the steel mowing deck that covers the blades.

That's what broke the lawnmower.

The dent was severe enough to impede the movement of the blade. I tried to bend it back out but remember I said it was steel. I'm fairly confident I can fix it (I can push the blade past the dent with my hands - albeit with much effort) but to do it safely, I think I have to remove the deck. I've done this once before to replace the drive belt and it takes a couple of hours - at least. Time that I didn't want to invest this morning.

I think I know what I'll be doing Saturday.

Housekeeping

A couple of housekeeping tasks --
1) I didn't get the job. I know who did and I'm happy for him. Really, I am.
2) The fishing trip blog entry is in the works... be patient, it'll be worth it.

The lost art of storytelling

I once read somewhere that the brain stores every experience, every sight, every sound, and every tidbit of knowledge - useless or not - that we encounter throughout our lives. That same somewhere also mentioned that, with practice, we could learn to have better recall of those elements stored in our brains. Unfortunately, I wasn't paying enough attention to that part of the article and the methods were not stored in the active recall portion of my brain.

You see, I think the brain is like a big document storage facility. The important documents - the names and faces of our closest family, for instance - are in red folders in the top drawer of the first filing cabinet. Easily displayed in our minds and referred to constantly. The red folders have earned a permanent place at the front of the storage facility. As you move down the cabinet and toward the back of the facility, the documents have progressively less importance and are referred to less often. As existing documents are needed more often, they are shuffled forward for easier recall. The documents that were in those spaces are shuffled down and back. Let me illustrate...

I used to produce television commercials. I could write, shoot, and edit. These were not anything spectacular but I did have a talent for it. About six years ago, I made a career change. I now work with computers. I could still produce a television commercial but in order to do so, I would need to have the records management specialist in my brain locate the documents on advertising and allow me to peruse them for a while before the ideas really started to grow. We all know that skills and knowledge unused will begin to deteriorate over time.

Similarly, documents created and only referred to once or twice are filed way in the back amongst the dusty bankers boxes stacked floor to ceiling. This is where the names of my great uncle Anthony's daughters is. There's a reference document in the card catalog that tells me I saw them last at my grandfather's funeral and there is a categorization listed on the card that tells me they were real lookers but that's it.

With my retention and recall, I figure I have one or two regulation-size file cabinets up front, a few more just beyond the reference desk, and a whole bunch of those dusty bankers boxes.

So what's the point of all of this and what does it have to do with my title?

Do you recall the John Doe story? If it's already made it into your bankers boxes don't worry about it. At the beginning of that entry, I told you that I tend to write blogs - or snippets of them - in my head as I go through life. I write some really good ones, too. Very descriptive. The problem is, the documents get placed in the inbox on the reference desk and they never quite seem to get properly filed. The card catalog has many of the memory joggers but the ink fades fast.

I could use a micro cassette recorder and I actually have one. This works well when you're driving or other places where it's easy to think out loud. It's a little difficult to do, however, while sitting in a restaurant trying to describe the way your overweight waitress is shuffling along, reeking of french fries, and seems not to notice your lack of beverage.

So, while I sit here trying to catalog the experiences of the weekend, recall those that I felt were important and sort through the inbox, active file and card catalog... you'll just have to wait a little longer for my fish tails.

A quick note before I say goodbye

I'm off for a weekend of fishing with my dad. Details when I return.
Have a good weekend y'all!

This, too, shall remain a mystery

Over the past week there has been a growing problem along the streets of Stillwater, OK. Specifically along the route I take to work. The problem is not traffic nor really traffic-related. It's not even idiot drivers or some distracting sign by the side of the road. It's... shoes. Four flip-flops, three tennis shoes and one high-top to be exact.

All along my route to work, footwear has been appearing in and alongside the road. At first it was a single flip-flop. I can see how this might make its way into the road. Let's say you're driving along on a nice, sunny afternoon with the windows down. Your passenger, a young lady wearing flip-flops, has extended her shapely legs out the window without a care in the world. She flexes one of her feet, causing the wind to catch the flip-flop, remove it from her foot and deposit it in the road.

That's an easy enough explanation for any of the flip-flops but what about the tennis shoes? A single shoe might be explained away by a malicious sibling... I've done it (and mom made me go back and pick it up if I remember).

This, however, does not explain the eight shoes that have appeared along 5 miles of road with all but one, a flip-flop, being within a mile of each other.

Weird.

Here in my car, I feel safest of all...

I was running some errands yesterday and ended up at a stoplight behind a white Nissan Pulsar NX. The car had obviously gone unwashed for at least a matter of weeks and, from the sounds of it, there was a hole in the muffler. As it turned right, I wondered to myself, "why did we ever think those things were cool?"

From there... well, from there I began to think that this would make a good blog entry...

There are many types of cars for many types of uses and for many types of people. Some of you reading this may be disturbed because I disparage a car you like. That's not a problem, just a difference of opinion.

At the bottom of the food chain, we have cars designed to get you from point "A" to point "B". Some of these are reliable but not very fast. Others are neither. Let's take a look at some of these.

• The Chevrolet Chevette - These wonders of modern science are the closest thing America has ever come up with to a Toyota Corolla in reliability. You could drive these things forever! That is, as long as you kept an eye on the oil. Eventually, they would throw a rod and be on their way to that great scrapheap in the sky. My sister owned one that had a hole in the floorboards on the driver's side. The hole was covered by a loose piece of sheet metal, but we still called it the fredmobile (that's not Fred in the driver's seat).
  
• The Yugo - Manufactured in Yugoslavia based on a design from Fiat. This car was voted worst car of the milennium at car talk (the results page is MIA). It's not a babe magnet. It's not fast. It's a box with wheels.
  
• The Chevy Sprint - Powered by a 1.0-liter three-cylinder engine. 'nuff said.
  
• The Renault LeCar - Just take a look at the picture... you'll get it.
  
• Then, reaching into the wayback machine, there's the AMC Gremlin
  

I could go on but you get the idea.

Stepping up from there are cars that were practical but still fun to drive. Many are still around today.

• The Toyota Corolla
  
• The Honda Civic
  
• The Ford Focus
  

From there, we visit the muscle cars...

• The Ford Mustang - Both old and new. We'll just glance over that whole K-body period. And there is some debate as to whether the Mustang belongs here or in the section below.
  
• The Pontiac GTO
  
• The Chevrolet Camaro
  
• The Plymouth Barracuda
  
• The Shelby Cobra
  

And just plain classics...

• The 1957 Chevrolet Belair
  
• The Chevrolet El Camino (Kevin argues that this is a truck and doesn't qualify as a classic "car")
  
• The Ford Thunderbird
  
• The Chevy Corvette
  
• Who would argue that a Cadillac isn't a classic?
  

And, after many many hours of linking to images around the web, that brings us to...

Cars we thought were cool but later thought, "What the hell were we thinking?"

• I should start off this list with the Nissan Pulsar NX. I mean, it started this whole thing. (Amazingly, the picture I found is almost exactly what this thing looked like)
  
• The Pontiac Fiero - General Motors' answer to the Toyota MR2. This thing had a mid-mount, inline, 4-cylinder engine and only had two seats. The stereo speakers were mounted in the headrests of each seat which means they were only about 2" speakers... really crappy.
  
• The Plymouth Laser
  
• The Chevy Nova. Just the new ones, though. The older ones are still cool. (notice that the only picture I could locate of a newer Nova was wrecked)
  
• The Ford Probe
  
• The Mitsubishi Spider
  
• The Eagle Talon
  
• And who could forget The Delorean? Yes, this is the car they made a time machine out of in Back To The Future.
  

I'm sure you may disagree with some of my choices or may have some examples of your own. If so, please feel free to add a comment. Add as many as you'd like. Let's get a healthy debate going.

Moving on?

I am finally able to share some news. My boss reads my blog regularly and I didn't want him to find out by reading it. I had a job interview this morning.

Around about tax day (April 15), I saw a listing on the HR web site for a job that looked interesting. It is honestly the first one I felt was worth applying for. I'm not sure I'm ready to go off campus - possible to another city or state - and most of the campus jobs are, at the least, nothing more than a latteral move. At any rate, I was feeling particularly dissatisfied with my job that day and applied for it. Last week, they called me (on my birthday, no less) for the interview.

I have been stressing over this all weekend. Mind you, I don't get test anxiety and interviews rarely bother me beyond the stress of having to answer all of those questions. The stress has been about the possibility of leaving where I am.

Let me explain.

I have said before, in this very forum, that I like my job. For the first time in my life, I really enjoy what I am doing. At one point, I even had that feeling of "I get to go to work" rather than "I have to go to work." That's the most amazing feeling you can hope for in your professional life. Some people never get that. Now, I feel like our new administration has come in and ruined that for me. I no longer enjoy my work. There are more elements of what I do that I dislike than elements that I like. Worst of all, this job has turned 180 degrees and, despite what our directors said when they were hired, it is no longer customer-centric.

I have worked for Computing and Information Services, now known as the Information Technology division, for almost four years. When I came on board, CIS was in the midst of trying to improve our reputation on campus. For many years, CIS was known as "The Evil Empire" and our call center was known as the "No-help desk" (of you want an idea of how it was, listen to this) but that was beginning to turn around. In the three years I worked for CIS, prior to the recent reorganization, we worked hard to become more and more customer-centric, improve customer service, leverage existing technologies, introduce new support models for emerging technologies, provide individualized training for our staff, and just generally improve our image across campus. The black eye was beginning to heal.

I really had hope for our new administration. We were going to continue to leverage existing technologies. We were to be a performance-based organization. We were going to become more customer-centric. We were going strive for excellent customer service.

BULLSHIT!

Everything we worked for as CIS is gone in a matter of less than a year. Externally, we are not respected, we are not trusted, and we don't provide timely solutions. Internally, we are all stressed, confused, and overburdened.

I wish I could sum up for you what this is like to someone who focuses on customer service. Maybe you already know. All I can say, though, is when your personal primary focus is customer service... true service... and you are told it has become a secondary priority, it becomes a source of anguish and frustration rather than a source of pride.


Wow... I didn't know I had all of that in me. Sorry about unloading on you like that.


Anyway, back to the interview...

I got up this morning and, I don't know whether to take this as a good omen or a bad one, I tied my tie perfectly the first time. I don't usually do that. More often than not, I tie it too short. It was dead-on this morning.

The interview was set for 8:30am so I went to work a little earlier than usual so I could get my computer fired up and logged in and take care of the junk mail I had received over the weekend.

The interview went pretty well. I already know one of the ladies that works in the office so that made it a little more comfortable. I'm not sure how well qualified I am for the job. They are needing someone for database work, data security and to help with their web server. I think I can handle those but I've got some learnin' to do. In the short-term, I would be relying heavily on my relationships within IT, especially those within the security office.

I'm just going to take this one as it comes. If there is an offer, I will consider it. If not, I will not be offended.

Drive-by blogging

I was thinking about my blog the other day and began to wonder. What happened to all of those lengthy, insightful or just plain humorous entries I used to make? I thought about Saturday Morning Cartoons, Stuff that is no more, a rant about French dressing, and what Christmas used to mean to me.

Lately, I haven't had much time for blogging. Although I run life experiences through my head as "how would I blog this?" most of them don't make it. I feel like I'm posting for the sake of posting lately. I answer a few esoteric questions, I take a meaningless personality survey, or I just write about how the day went. I mean, who really cares? You have a life of your own and, while my life may be interesting on some basic level, my blog is nothing more than a temporary distraction.

I really wanted this to become a serious creative outlet. I am sorry that my problems have gotten in the way of that.

In the coming days, weeks, months, etc. I hope to have something of more substance for you.

Keep watching this space,
Uncle Bubby

I have to agree

Just saw this on another blog. Thought it was worth referencing.

Drinko de Mayo

Well, here we are at Cinco de Mayo. The Mexican independence day that gives American's a reason to drink... heavily. As if they need a reason.

Really, it's a marketing ploy for Mexican restaurants to sell food and lots and lots and lots of overpriced beer. I mean, do Mexican's go out and party on July 4th? Not that I'm aware of.

Cinco de Mayo has never been anything to me except the day after my birthday.

Speaking of my birthday, everything went very well yesterday. I took the day off from work and didn't do a darn thing that I didn't want to do.

I started off the day at the Doctor's office. I had an annual checkup scheduled. Everything went fine but those are really weird. Toward the end, he started going over a laundry-list of questions...

Any trouble with numbness or tingling in your extremeties? Swelling of the feet? vision problems?... (okay, checking for diabetes.)
Rapid heartbeat? Chest pain or tightness?... (heart problems)
Coughing? Shortness of breath?...

After a while, you start to think, "Maybe there is something wrong with me?" But, then, you realize that he's asking mostly about chronic problems. I don't think a case of heartburn after consuming five-alarm buffalo wings is anything to panic over.

After that, I ran some errands. We'd been out of milk for two days. I was going to go to the store Monday night but realized I had left my debit card at the restaurant (in Oklahoma City - about 60 miles South) on Saturday. I guess I just wanted the experience to be over so much that I neglected to pick up my card. Anyway, I tooled on down to OKC to retrieve it once I discovered the problem.

I had planned on picking up our sofa yesterday but by the time I was done with all the errands I was already at a point in the day when I wanted to at least be returning from Tulsa... so I skipped it. I'll pick it up Saturday.

Instead, I went home and started revamping my photo web site. I uploaded an incomplete version last night. Not all of the graphics made it and I think I need to shrink the pictures. Even on the fiber line at work they take a while to load. I think that's a result of my outbound bandwith more than anything else. Making the pictures smaller will help all-around.

I gotta get back to work.

Small World

As my eyes begin to wander around other blogs I am beginning to see that many of the blogs I enjoy reading the most have authors with similar birthdays or anniversaries as me.

My birthday is May 4 (yes, that's tomorrow - I'll be 37)
My wedding anniversary is May 12.

I've so far found two bloggers with similar birthdays (May 2 and May 3) and one with an anniversary on May 13.

Way cool in a trivial kinda way.

I just couldn't resist

My sister does these things all the time and for some reason, I decided to try this one for myself. I was surprised at the answer.


Heart of Crystal


What is Your Heart REALLY Made of?
brought to you by Quizilla

Monday morning update

Busy weekend. Busy Sunday, really, but a pretty full weekend.

The wife and I took Friday afternoon off for a doctor appointment and ended up finishing with that around 4pm. We decided to head down to Oklahoma City and see if the in-laws wanted to have dinner. That didn't work out but we ran a couple of errands (I got a couple of new shirts), had dinner, then headed home in the pouring rain... I'm glad she was driving.

Saturday we went back to Oklahoma City and met up with her mother. We ran some more errands - new grill cover, fabric store closing sale, etc. - and made a day of it. We finished it off having dinner at Marie Callendar's with both her folks. The service wasn't the best I've had there and my father-in-law had a little attitude problem that threw a wet blanket onto the evening but the food tasted good.

Sunday, I got busy.

I have been working on wiring the living room for sound. I have a home theater system. In our previous house, I ran cables around the edge of the ceiling to the back speakers and the layout of the room allowed me to set up the subwoofer without running cable across a pathway. Having a brand new house (and an attic I can actually move around in), we decided to route the wires through the attic.

I planned everything out, bought a spool of speaker wire, a couple of Ethernet jacks (for the ReplayTV connection), enough binding post connectors for two sets of speakers and a subwoofer (that's a total of six pairs), and the necessary wall plates. I even blew $15 on an attachment for our Dremel tool that turns it into a rotary saw so I could cut proper access holes for the plates.

About a month (or so) ago, I had run the Ethernet cable for the ReplayTV and speaker wire for the rear speakers. On Sunday, I cut the holes and placed the inserts for mounting the keystone plates. Then, I ran a pair of wires out to the patio for outdoor speakers, a wire to the back of the living room for the sub woofer, and a television cable into my office. It was about 80-85 degrees (f) up in the attic so I was a little moist by the time I came down. Kevin came over and helped me from the ground with the rest of the wires so I wasn't up there too terribly long.

I spent the rest of the afternoon terminating all of the wires to their respective keystone jacks. The hardest was the Ethernet jacks and even they weren't that difficult - it was all just very time consuming.

[DANG! I should have taken pictures and published a how-to on my web site.]

Once I finished terminating at the wall, I proceeded to cut all new audio wires to go from the wall to the amplifier. I went from 22-gauge (very small) wire to a 12-gauge wire (much bigger, less resistance, better sound - in theory, at least). Then, I moved the behemoth of an entertainment center we have back into place, hooked the TV back up, and wired up the stereo... It sounds great!

Side note: I realized I have a problem. I have the optical audio cable from the DVD player hooked directly into the amp. (for 5.1 surround-sound) but I have the video running through the ReplayTV. This will work just fine but the ReplayTV runs a 7-second delay... For those that haven't figured it out, the sound is going to come seven seconds before the video. That's WAY out of synch. If I want Dolby Digital audio from DVD's, I'm either going to have to get a video switcher for the rear input on the TV or I'm going to have to run everything through the amplifier (it'll handle video pass-through, too) which will confuse and annoy the wife.

So, I finally had my wires run, my wall plates in place, and my TV back on... and I went to mow the lawn.

Needless to say, I'm a little sore today but it's a good sore. The kind of sore you get from doing good solid work but not from overdoing it. I don't feel like I strained anything, I'm pretty sure I just used some of those muscles us computer-jockeys don't use very often.