Is that WHAT?

So. My office manager and I are leaving the office. Just before we went our separate ways, she sticks one of her iPod earbuds into my ear, to show that she's listening to Fatboy Slim (who I listen to, as well).

I say: "Have you heard of PodJacking?"
She says: "No."

I explain it was this brief fad where complete strangers would kind of randomly switch ipod jacks for a few seconds, check out each other's music, and move on.

She was like: "Is that an old people thing?"

Love to all. Even you, youngster.

A rare sight in NYC.

It's a rare thing to have East 11th Street all to myself. I took this picture this morning, at about 6:30am.

God, I love New York.

Love to all. Even you, the pooping bum.

Stupid, stupid apple.

Dead Macbook Pro.

Dead Macbook.

Why do I not blog? Because I'm FIXING BROKEN MACS.

Fuck.

Love to all. Even you, Greg Joswiak.

How to tell that I'm me.

If you ever think you see me on the street in NYC, come over and ask me for a pirate eyepatch or a glowstick. If:

1. The person doesn't immediately scream for the police and/or
2. The person has one or both of the items extremely handy

...then it's probably me.

Love to all. Even you, the screamin' Poppa in the next booth at City Limits.

God, this is weird.

My youngest has had a fever of 103 all day.

He just woke up twenty minutes ago. Or rather, he catapulted out of bed, semi-delirious, said he had to throw up, and spent the next five minutes trying to get his hands into the toilet, and screaming when I moved them.

He kept screaming "I want to play! I want to play!" And trying to reach into the toilet bowl. I was thinking: this little dude is asleep. This little dude is delirious.

So I finally said: "Do you want to play with the bath water?" He said yes.

I brought him downstairs. His fever was high, but not 103. He insisted that he get in the bath. He also started to seem much more lucid. I gave him some Motrin. He kept up about the bath, only in a less emotional

"What's my name?" I asked.
"Daddy," he said.
"How old are you?"
"Five."
"Where's Mommy?"
"Hershey Park."
"You still want to get in the bath?"
"Yes."

So I let him. I set the water in at a medium-cool level, thinking that would help knock the fever back until the Motrin worked. He got in, and started chit-chatting with me about Star Wars. Then, after five minutes he said: "I'm done."

I said: "Why did you want to take a bath?"
He said: "I just did.
"Why were you trying to stick your hands in the toilet upstairs?"
"I don't know."
"Do you remember that?"
"No."
"Whoa, this was really funny, youngin'."
"Well, it wasn't that funny."
"Hm. I guess you're right. Ready for bed?"
"Yup!"

And he's fast asleep. Now, how am I going to accomplish the same thing?

Love to all. Even you, the video graphics woman with the special pinky.

Best laid plans, Part II.

A while back, we got a big-ass plasma TV. Three days or so after we got it, one of my youngest's friends dumped a shake on it.

This week, Maggie bought a really nice rug. This morning, my youngest threw up huge amount of berry flavored (read: neon pink) Rice Krispies on the new rug.

Next time we invest in something expensive for the home, I'm just going to spray paint part of it right away... just to get it over with.

Love to all. Even you, Amrut International.

Best laid plans.

Last year, I instituted a fun little policy wherein one parent would go on a mini-vacation with one kids in a rotating pattern:

Me + Kid 1
Maggie + Kid 2
Me + Kid 3
Maggie + Kid 1
Me + Kid 2
Maggie + Kid 3

Thus, on Friday, Maggie and my daughter (Kid 2), left for Hershey Park. This morning, me and the boys were supposed to head out to do all kinds of fun things. But, alas, kid 3 has a fever of 103, and our plans are cancelled.

On the other hand, while I was attempting to remove a link from my new watch, and punctured my finger with a 1mm screwdriver, and accidentally flung the watch accross the room.

Yeesh.

Love to all. Even you, the nurse who acted like my not taking anything for a fever was crazy.

I am Zarkon: Destroyer of worlds.

I was going to write something about Love, and being therein. But I can't do that right now.

Instead, I'm going to say that, dammit, the ladies in the coffee shop GOT IT WRONG.

Some of these fancy coffee shops ask for your name so they can call you when your order is ready. The conversation went like this:

Her: What's your name?
Me: Zarkon: destroyer of worlds.
Her: Sorry?
Me: ZARKON: DESTROYER OF WORLDS.
Her: Um... okay.

As you can see on the slip, they spelled my name wrong.
Love to all. Even you, Aroma lady.

Why I love Maggie, part 2758

Maggie called and asked if I could come up with some extra cash. In the past, I would have gotten a little huffy, asked her what for, made her provide reasons, etc. Really stupid power-play reaction on my part. This time, though, I said "hey, don't worry about telling me why, just tell me the amount, and I'll tell you if we have it to front."

She gives me the figure, I say "okay." All ends super-peacefully.

She calls me a half-hour later and adds 50% to the figure. I say "But... but... I was just patting myself on the back for being so un-dickish about money for a change!"

And she said:

You know me, I have to push the envelope until you're angry, so that I feel successful.

Now THAT is self-awareness.

Love to all. Even you, the angry ex-junkie who thinks we're out to get her.

I'm *still* an ass.

Once again, I'm on the right. Same friend. Different icons.

A haiku of mild exhaustion and depression.

Summer may yet wane
Somehow things will settle down
Missing what I've lost

Love to all. Even you, the tech guy who forgot to run backups for a month.

I'm an ass, part XXIV.

I'm the one on the right.

Love to all, even you, the dramatically didactic redhead.

So close.

So, only four miles into my bike ride, I realize I'm riding alongside NYC's water supply. Nice.

20 miles later, I realized that I had ridden FAR... for a first bike ride, at least.

Love to all. Even you, the lady who just tried to rip me off, but failed.

Six hours straight: Maggie is ecstatic.

Oh, you dirty-minded, sickos. Six hours of CLEANING THE GARAGE.

God, I don't even know why I bother with you people.

Love to all. Even you, the people riding two x two on a very narrow path.

Exactly my point, CTH.

Conservative Trail Head (normally a nice enough guy, blog-comment-wise), left this note about my railing against NSA Wiretaps.

Can you please show me one US citizen which has been agrieved [sic] by the NSA wiretaps? Whose privacy is being violated? We are at war, no matter how much you deny reality.

Little and unnecessary insult about me denying reality aside, this question is an excellent statement of exactly what is wrong in this country. My reality is that the US is a Constitutional Republic and the constitution is the Supreme Law of the Land. Until the Constitution is Amended to disable parts of the 1st and 4th amendments, etc., it doesn't MATTER if someone is "aggrieved." Warrantless wiretaps are illegal. Does the law not matter? Besides, the Bush Administration could have used the proper FISA procedure and applied for warrants retroactively. They did not.

If Ii were to take CTH's question literally, I would say ME, for one. Aggrieved just means "feeling resentment at unfair treatment."

But answering what I believe he really meant: That logic is precisely the problem. Would you be aggrieved if I broke into your house while you weren't there, damaged nothing, broke nothing, and merely walked around and looked at all your shit, because I thought there might be some evidence that you were messing around with my wife? (Smart choice of lady, though. You have good taste.)

Sure you would.

What war are you fighting? If you're not fighting to protect our country and it's Constitution, what are you fighting FOR? Why can't people understand that you have to sacrifice some "security" for Freedom.

As Ben Franklin said:

Those who would sacrifice essential liberties for a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.

The Bill of Rights? I'd call that "essential."

Love to all. Even you, the guy playing tennis with the outrageous combover-turned-vertical-spike.

Oh, BABY!

Just rode my new bike home from the shop. These padded shorts sure make me look WEIRD. Other than that, though, I am SO impressed with this thing. It's super light, goes FAST FAST FAST, and is just a joy.

Love to all. Even you, the lady followed me for about 1.25 miles, afraid to pass me.

Making us safer (by destroying America).

If you currently live within the territorial boundaries of the United States of America, and if you want to live in a Constitutional Republic, raise your hand. All of you are now considered “Group A.” Lower your hands.

If you currently live in the territorial boundaries of the United States of America, and if you want to live in a Theocratic Oligarchy, raise your hand. You folks are “Group B.” Lower your hands.

Group A, pack your bags and find somewhere else to live. Group B, now would be a good time to invest in land. You can settle in for the long haul: this country is for you.

Today, a federal judge strucked down the Terrorist Surveillance Program as unconstitutional, and according to the judge, was in violation of the "separation of powers doctrine, the Administrative Procedures Act, the First and Fourth amendments to the United States Constitution, the FISA and Title III.”

Sounds good, right? Just you wait.

The Bush administration is going to ignore the ruling, claiming that it somehow has the right to do this while the rulilng is appealed. Of course, that would mean the Bush administration would be acting illegally… but that’s nothing new. I could be wrong, here, but I doubt it.

The slimiest logic of all The Bush government claimed that it couldn’t defend itself in the suit, because doing so would be a national security risk. That, my friends, is self-serving logic which allows the Bush (or any other) administration to basically do whatever it wants, without being troubled with things like, um, legality.

Ick.

And Senator Frist? He just pooped on the Constitution as follows:

Terrorists are the real threat to our constitutional and democratic freedoms, not the law enforcement and intelligence tools used to keep America safe. We need to strengthen, not weaken, our ability to foil terrorist plots before they can do us harm.

Regardless, of course, of whether these tools are illegal and concretely un-American.

According to CNN:

Some legal scholars said the program is an illegal and unwarranted intrusion on Americans' privacy. The Bush administration defended it as a necessary tool in the battle against terrorism.

Regardless, of course, of whether these tools are illegal and concretely un-American. Wait. Did I just repeat myself? Weird. Sorry.

Group A, raise your hands. The Bush administration is removing the core values that made these United States so wonderful and unique. So you might as well keep your hands up: you’re being robbed.

Love to all. Even you, Tony Snow.

Tap. Tap-tap. Or: Adderall denoument.

Is this thing on?

Holy SHIT, has this been a weird week. I'd say I'm at, oh, 85% of my normal energy level... and that is one hell of an improvement. I haven't been exercising, though... so today I HAVE to change that. Either through a light 5-mile treadmill run, weights, or both. Hopefully both.

I'm disappointed in my pharmacologist. She's nice. I like her. But she clearly doesn't understand the ins and outs of what she is prescribing. I appreciate that she called the drug manufacturer to ask some questions, and that she got in touch with a colleague to ask him specific questions about amphetamines... but perhaps those should be before-the-fact questions... research questions... prior to prescribing stuff. I don't know.

A few words about alcoholism:

Back when I was hiding bottles and drinking 10-18 drinks per day, I would be waiting... waiting desperately, for the hour to come when the first drink would hit my lips. That first feeling, which I can only describe as "Cascade," when the alcohol started washing over my brain... well... that was what my life was about.

Having Adderall move from a day-to-day medication to a useless medication, to a "waiting to see if it's going work" medication... the thought processes are too much like how I felt about alcohol.

When I quit drinking in Alcoholics Anonymous, the urge to drink was removed. I had tried for years to quit prior, but it didn't work (other than my seven years of AA sobriety in the 90's). Having the impulse, obsession, and compulsions lifted was a common AA miracle, but a miracle nonetheless.

I will NOT engage these thought processes again in order to be less scatterbrained and distractable. Fuck that.

I'm glad to be back. Weird to say, but true.

Love to all. Even you, the lady with the facelift who should damn well know better.

Where the hell have I been?

Hi, folks.

I'm just recovering from adderall withdrawal. I've been semi-conscious for about four days. I've worked a bit, come home, and slept 16 hours.

I'll get into this more by tomorrow.

Whoa.

Love to all. Even you, the pharamacologist who told me that she may have been "cavalier" when espousing the lack of withdrawal symptoms.

Speed? What speed? Plus - Help wanted!

Well. It turns out that I have developed a complete tolerance for amphetamines.

My wife, my friends, and my employees have all noticed a Return to Scatterbrain.

I've had the dose increased twice. The first time I felt like it was working for me again. But within a week, I had completely adjusted and returned to my normal, what-the-hell-was-I-just thinking self.

I talked to the doc, and she recommended I take the weekend off, then change how I take it Monday through Friday. When I asked her about side effects from stopping, she said "None."

Right.

I slept 11 hours, from Friday-to-Saturday, 13 hours from Saturday-to-Sunday. I STILL feel like I'm thinking through gauze. It's pretty disconcerting.

I've come up with a solution, though: I'm hiring an assistant.

If I can't correct my behavior chemically, I'm going to hire someone to help me correct it environmentally. My own living, breathing adderall. Anyone want a job helping Rich | Championable get his shit together? It doesn't pay too much: 30k to start, but there's a salary review after the 90-day probationary period.

:-)

Anyway: I'm taking my daughter to Brooklyn to pick up her big brother from my cousin's apartment, where he spent the night. I was a big adventure for all... perhaps more for my cousin than for my son.

Love to all. Even you, the frat-lookin' guy driving the Humvee.

The door that leads to all other doors.

This is my favorite door in New York City.

Most weekday mornings, sometime between 6:45 and 7:10am, I walk through this door. What's inside this door saved my ass. And if any of you folks ever happen to walk through this door, I hope it saves yours too.

I'll be sure to say hi.

Love to all. Even you, the 5-year-old kid who I just can't stand.

A major minor breakthrough.

I rode my old Trek hybrid (now my "train bike") to the station this morning. When I parked in the bike rack, I whipped out my new lock (I hadn't had time to properly mount it to my frame yet), and hooked it through my front tire and frame.

But I couldn't get the lock closed. I messed with it for about two minutes. Nothing.

Now it was 5:45am, and my train was coming. I fiddled with the lock for another couple of seconds, and realized that I had a choice:

1. Not bother locking the bike, and hope that nobody stole it.
2. Freak out, start screaming and snarling and try to force the fucker to close.
3. Miss my train.

I sat down on the sidewalk, legs criss-crossed, and watched my train come. It pulled up... paused... everyone got on... and it left. Twenty-five minutes until the next train.

I looked down at the lock and noticed that I had the base on backwards. Click.

Love to all. Even you, the british dude who speaks almost exclusively in Morality Tales.

Silence, shins, bikes.

Why so quiet, you may ask? Emotional turmoil? Harried schedule.

How about: detonating laptop.

Stupid MacBook Pro. First the inverter is messed up, so I have to send it back. Then, the battery is recalled, but since this is a refurb, Apple messed up sending me the replacement. The, the logic board started to fail, randomly restarting and shutting down the machine.

I stopped using it, but not before it corrupted my data.

I had blown my Apple Developer discount on a Mac Pro, but I've cancelled that. I'm going to wait it out... see if the big machines have problems like the laptops. Economically, it REALLY makes sense, too, since I just got me one of these:


Is this thing badass or WHAT? Oh my god.

I haven't gotten a new bike in... twelve years, since about 30 friends of mine pitched in to replace a bike that got stolen, as part of the surprise 25th birthday party put on by my then girlfriend, Maggie.

Things have changed on the bike front. Materials, shifters, styles... But after an hour of getting a "fit test" done with a SUPER knowledgable guy, I went for the Giant OCR 2 Composite.

Now I have to take swim lessons, and I can think Triathlon.

Love to all. Even you, the guy who may or may not be deaf.

Sometimes I don't know.

There are things I feel and think that I can't write because this blog is not totally anonymous. There are at least four people who know it's mine. I'm not sure if all of them read it, but I know a few of 'em do. Or did.

So, since I can't really talk about how I'm feeling in any detail, I'll just say this:

Love is not an excuse.

And that is that.

Love to all. Even you, Coffee Bean.

Data Entry.

I posted an ad on Craiglist for a short data entry position for my company. The lucky winner will get to work in the same room as me for two weeks.

I've gotten some weird responses.

For instance... if you're going to reply to a financial data entry gig, make sure what you write is literate and sensible... data entry requires accuracy.

I'm interested in the Data Entry position if it is not yet filled. I am not sure of my typing speed but it type like a mad scientist!

I'm trying to mentally picture what "type like a mad scientist" means, but I'm just not sure.

Another example is:

do i need to be there or can I do it from home

That was the whole email. Nothing more.

But this one disturbs me the most, because it's just so icky:

I can get the job done for you quickly, if you're willing to pay me what I usually would get as a temp (around $30/hour), or I can spend the two weeks you're advertising doing the data entry at a much more leisurely pace for the rate you're offering.

How could anyone hire this person after a note like this?

Anyway... I think I've found my person. Lucky bastard.

Love to all. Even you, the wide-eyed lady who was both suspicious and hard of hearing.

Don't. Be. Stupid.

A minute ago, I thought I heard my youngest scream from outside. I ran up the steps from the basement, got to the front door, and realized:

1. He was fine. He was just messing around.
2. I ran up the stairs from the basement.

Up until a minute ago, I couldn't run at all. The swelling has subsided mostly, and there's one spot on my shin which is all messed up... but if I tried to run, it would hurt immediately.

So.
The thing to do now is NOT RUN.

I'll do the elliptical all week. And then, on Saturday, I'll try a short run. The marathon's not for months. I have to remember to let myself get better.

On the plus side, I went biking today, and had so much fun I think I'm going to get myself a road bike. I've had this hybrid since 1993, and I'd love to have a bike that has gears deep enough to let me pedal on the downhills.

Speaking of biking... I've decided that this year is NY Marathon year, and 2007 is going to hold for me some version of Triathlon... whether Ironman or Half I have to figure out. So, because I like to think about these things ahead of time, I pushed my ego aside and talked to the swim instructor at our local pool about giving me lessons, so that I start swimming with better form. Right now, it's just not pretty.

Anyway. I'm going to get the kids, and start the bedtime routine. Quite the slice-o-life post, this one.

Love to all. Even you, the owners of all the bike shops who are closed Sundays.

Not morbid. Just thinking.

Maggie is picking up our oldest from camp today. She left last night, and will be home late this afternoon. Before she left, she said to me: "It's so strange how I adjusted to his being gone. I feel bad because I got used to it."

I thought about that, and I realized that this is probably a very tiny version of what eventually happens when a parent loses a child. In the same way that I couldn't imagine life without Carter, I suppose that people just, eventually, have the pain of loss overlaid (not replaced) with a thick layer of Normal.

The pain can always poke through, but eventually it's not right at the surface.

In 2002, a girl in my town was killed in skiing accident. She was a young high schooler. I had coached her younger brother in soccer. I didn't know the family. But when the high school had a memorial event in the auditorium, I went. It was kind of a strange affair, with a big picture of the girl on the stage, peple coming up and talking about her, a bunch of high school kids playing "Wish you were here" by Pink Floyd. The whole thing was both touching and edged with teen drama, which made it a little bizarre. Her father even got on stage to talk to everyone about his girl.

How the man was able to do that, I have no idea.

I see the dad in town, on the train, on the fields, and every time I see him I think "How does he do that? How is he able to function after sustaining a loss like he did?" The answer, I guess, is just because he does. I don't think it's "for his son" or "for his wife."

I guess the nature of life is to keep living, no matter what.

Whoa. I'm missing Carter right now. A lot. Jesus.

Love to all. Even you, whoever abandoned that crazy black dog in a New Jersey parking lot in 1992.

A public apology to Miss Britt and Waldo.

My last post should have immediately mentioned that it was about being a fan of Rush, the Canadian ProgRock Band... not Rush Limbaugh, the drug-addled, hypocritical, lying prick.

So, officially, my apologies to Waldo and Miss Britt for accidentally making you think, however briefly, that I liked drug-addled, hypocritical, lying pricks like THAT guy. I mean, I do like drug-addled, hypocritical, lying pricks... but not that one. Also, I apparently like saying "drug-addled, hypocritical, lying prick."

Love to all. Even you, the drug-addled, hypocritical, lying prick.

Whoosh goes my memory.

I'm a Rush fan. It's true. And I'm proud of it.

I go through phases where I won't listen to Rush for a long time, and then I will. I didn't like a whole series of their albums, but with Vapor Trails, they had me back.

I just picked up R30... Rush's thirtieth anniversary concert tour double-dvd and double-CD set. It's blowing me away. Not only because these dude have been doing this for THIRTY years, and still completely rock the house (unlike a lot of other bands, which come back years later, after breaking up, with half of their people gone, or dead). Rush has been putting out music for thirty years, a lot of it really good, and some of it classic. It's still the same dudes: Geddy, Alex, and Neil.

One of the DVDs has about 10 videos from the 70's and early 80's. Great stuff. The other DVD is the R30 concert... which is just unbelievable.

I know I'm totally gorking out here. But when I hear these dudes cranking out Subdivisions, or La Villa Strangiato with such amazing chops, three decades after they started, I'm just impressed.

Anyway. I'm all tired and wonked-out from getting up at 3:30. I'm going to sleep.

Love to all. Even you, the dude on the train who was watching to see when I got up, so he could get up first and beat me to the door (you have to see this dude.. he's TENSE)... so I leaned all forward all sudden-like to see if he actually WOULD get up, and he did.

You NEED to know this.

At 4:30am, after being woken up to break up a viscious catfight outside (Between cats, boys, not between bikini-clad college women, or whatever the hell your sick mind thought), I discovered that I can simultaneously poop AND relace my blue Pumas with fat (not phat, tho' they are) white replacements.

In fact, it's a convenient combination of activities.

Love to all. Even you, the newspaper delivery guy who fell asleep at the wheel, car in gear, music blaring, a tendril of spit falling from his chin.

Thanks Nikon!

I've had problems with the Nikon S1. It seemed like such a great little camera, but the picture quality was pretty bad... which would really suck, if the camera ever took pictures. But the little Nikon didn't take pictures, because the lens cover got stuck.

I sent it back twice for repair. First, it came back and never took a picture... same problem. The next time, I used it once before it failed again. On the third call to repair, I asked for a replacement. And in the note to Nikon I said "If the lens cover problem is endemic to the model, could you please send me a palm sized camera that doesn't have the issue?"

Today, I got a brand-new Nikon S5 in the mail. I was stunned. Thank you, Nikon!

I figure since I complain on this blog sometimes, I should say "Thanks" as well.

Love to all. Even you, the strangely serene lady in the green dress.