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Daynotes on a budgetThe weekly diary of a PC GeekUpdated: Sunday, November 05, 2000 10:28 PM -0600 | ||
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Jerry Pournelle
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Sunday Well now. Let's see how you like this layout. I thought I'd shorten the column widths a little, since I ramble on so much. At least I'm not forcing the table width - I hate that. I've got a 19" monitor running at 1280 x 1024 resolution, and if I want a page that wide, I WANT IT THAT WIDE... Of course, I learned a trick from Tom Syroid which works with my Microsoft Wheelmouse - if you don't like the font size in Internet Exploder, just hold the control key and roll the wheel - it's a bit counter-intuitive to me; seems the wheel and font size should work the other way, but what the heck, at least it works. And far better than traffic did this morning. Our first morning with serious rainfall during the morning rush, and boy, those ramp meters don't make a bit of difference, do they? I drove past an eight-mile long bumper-to-bumper backup on 35E going north this morning. And in a few hours I've got to go back that way for an interview. Working in White Bear Lake and living in Burnsville would be difficult, with about an hour commute on a good day, but hey, an income's an income - and it sure doesn't seem to be coming from the place that "hired" me a month ago Friday. I guess the fault is more than half mine - I'm far too trusting an individual. I don't know that I should have relied on the pronouncements of people I'd just met - then again, I'm concerned that in the 32 days since I've "worked" for them, I've contacted them weekly, and they've contacted me twice. Once for a class, and once for a "hey, you still out there and doing OK?" I'm not very impressed at all with how these people have handled me, nor how they've handled this whole relationship. I'm going to look out for myself, and see what I can find. Given the job market right now, I think I should be able to get just about anything as long as I'm not picky - and income coming in is preferable to sitting around like a bump on a log. Try it some time; it's no fun at all. It sounds like it might be, but it's not. I've never been so stressed in my life. Enough bitching and whining and such - I've got to get onto the net, get out a dozen resumes (already sitting in the outbox waiting to go - one more trick of the trade - I use Word to merge the files, then cut and paste into outlook. I verify that I've attached the resumes to the messages BEFORE I get on-line and send the mail. Attention to detail is in my resume, so I'd best do it in SENDING the resume, right? ;-)... OH, GREAT. I just tried to e-mail myself from the web page - seems that FrontPage and Spaceports think that it's "http://vulcan.spaceports.com/mailto=john.dominik@hotmail.com" for a valid URL. Not freaking likely. Heck - even FrontPage considers that a valid URL and supplies the automatic links. Now to figure that one out... But first - news from the rest of the world. Looks like you can civilize a country, but the weather may occasionally cause problems <(;-) (That's a smiley with a rain hat). On the other hand, this story is just stupid. If you're at a Halloween Party anywhere in California, or heck, let's just go out on a limb and say "anywhere" and you don't recognize the guest in a police uniform, for crying out loud, don't even PRETEND to point a gun at them until you're sure they're a GUEST, and not a real officer, people. As the Sarge on Hill Street Blues used to say - "Hey, let's be careful out there." I miss that show. This one irritates me. This kid goes to a party, and a bunch of them decide to try LSD. Then, one gets goofy. Sits in the middle of the city street, buck naked. Cops get called, kid lunges for one of their guns, and is shot. What do you want to bet that somewhere there's going to be a lawsuit? I can see two - one against the parents of the home for "inadequate supervision" and another against the police department for "unnecessary force". Gee, it's not the kid's fault at all, is it? Sorry, I should be more sympathetic, but this one really irritates me. And this one ... Well, at the risk of giving far more publicity to a slut who doesn't really need it, let's examine the issue a little, shall we? Bob Walder pointed this out the other day, and while I agree with him, let's take this a little further. Obviously, this Mary Ellen Synon woman has issues - why else would she choose not to defend or even comment on a position which she's publicly admitted to? Perhaps because she herself is of some form of diminished capacity and lacking in the gray matter to defend her position, no doubt. Since she's incapable of defending her position, I can only assume that the woman has so little skill in her chosen profession that she needs to either foster controversy (gee, I wonder how she ever decided THAT was a boost to her career?) or attack people who are supposedly incapable of defending themselves? Good grief. My father had polio at the age of three. Growing up there were many things my father couldn't do with me - we didn't play catch, we didn't go for long walks around the neighborhood, we didn't sit on the dock and go fishing, hunting, or any other "typical father-son bonding activities" that you see in movies, etc. However, much to Mr. Bush's everlasting chagrin, my father taught me more about character by not allowing his disability to stop him. He continues to remain mobile and active as he nears his 80th year; this is the same man whom I was told back in 1980 was twenty years past when he should have died, and he might not make it through the day after a major heart attack. He pulled through that, various other health issues, and had a pacemaker installed in 1990. A couple years ago they replaced it, and previous to that he beat Prostate cancer. Physically disabled he may be - he'll never catch a Dante Cullpepper pass (then again, most of Vikes receivers said the same thing yesterday), but I'll put his vocabulary up against ANYONE and he'll whup ya hands down. Wanna bet? I was the only family I know that had TWO "major" dictionaries - The Random House Unabridged, at fourteen inches tall, twelve inches wide (closed), and over six inches thick, was one of our two - The other was the O.E.D. Unabridged. Yes, the Oxford English Dictionary, long form. Heavier than the Random House, mostly in the paper used (and it had more pages, I think). Anyway, Dad didn't need them - we did. He knew those words - we had to look them up. My father taught me more about character than any one of the current presidential candidates ever could or would. My father would fall, and get up, with help, many many times over the years. One classic exchange, as we were trying to get him back up. "You OK?" Falling is fine, failing is fine, as long as you've tried. If you haven't tried, if you haven't given it everything you've got, then you should feel bad. If you have, well, then, don't worry about it. Mary Ellen Synon, on the other hand, seems to think that fooling around with married men is allowed, regardless of their occupation, etc. Sorry, folks, but that's not in my book. Physical disability is a setback, not a block to most people. This Mary Ellen Synon, on the other hand, is the worst kind of disabled - prejudiced. Her lack of intelligence, combined with her bigotted opinions, leaves me with no conclusion but that she is incapable of learning; she should be put to pasture with some other enfeebled types - perhaps sheep. Of course, that's an insult to sheep, but I think they'll get over it. They might be able to help this moron. Enough. I've got to do my homework before I sit through this interview this afternoon... Let us hope that it goes well. More later, if I can - I've got a 1pm interview, then a 4pm appointment to get a young lady to "Skateville," Pick up her mother and younger brother, then go back and pick her back up. She should have a wonderful time. We hope. Well, at least I've solved the damned e-mail problem... whooo-hooo. Off to the interview.
The interview went pretty well. It's back into project management work, which I enjoy, but it's a step back from technical, which I really like. It's like being torn in two. But it's also project management in a health care environment - very focused, very specific, and very clearly beneficial. Can't say more than that. I have to remember what the fellow I hired while still at the old place said when I asked him "why on earth would you want to trade your consulting business for a position inside a corporate entity?" He gave me two big reasons - the first was that he wanted some income stability, which I could understand. The second, I'll never forget. He said "I can either grow my technical skills, and neglect the business, or grow my business skills and ignore the technology. This business will not advance without both, and I can't do both." Very very smart man, him. Too bad we hired the other fellow too... Ach well, nothing to be done but move on. Speaking of, I saw two things on the roads this afternoon which irritated and amused me. The first was the amusing part. At at stoplight I was behind this beat-up little Ford Festiva - every body panel a different, non-matching color. The bumpers were mismatched, as were most of the wheels (when it went around the corner). What amused me was on the tinted rear window was a sticker - "Don't laugh - your daughter could be in here." Funny, but if true, the kid's dead. The second requires some explanation - last legislative session, one of the towering intellects we've elected to lead us proposed posting signs along roadways which said "SLOWER TRAFFIC MOVE RIGHT" on the theory that slow people aren't smart enough to know that for themselves. While the measure didn't pass, the Department of Transportation (hereafter known as MnDOT, pronounced "Min-Dot") decided it was a good idea and posted them at points of congestion on the freeways. Today, to my everlasting shame, I was in one of those points of congestion, and discovered the fatal flaw in the legislator's idea. You see, while all of these drivers theoretically could at one time read well enough to pass a driver's test, we've managed to teach them in years intervening how to become too stupid to read. Yes, folks, we're assuming that the moron behind the wheel can still read. I encountered a number (actually nine) of them today - plodding along in the left lane at the speed limit or below. In one case, the woman was in the left lane and doing 48. In a 60. I nearly screamed the windows out in frustration. Some day I'll get that hood-mounted howitzer, and it will come with high-intensity laser beams which will allow me to melt the debris and drive right through it. With non-deflating tires and other assorted survival tools, I should be just fine on these streets. At least I hope. Now, to figure out how to set my watch. Six buttons, no instructions. You'd think it would be easier than this to set the damned thing back an hour. It might, in the long run, be cheaper to buy a new watch. Certainly less frustrating. 
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Sunday I remember the last "major" Halloween trick or treat session I did. It was probably in 1974 or 1975, and it was miserable weather. A number of my friends and I would get together and go around the neighborhood, and then some. I went as a "bum" with one of my father's old suit coats, some dirt on my face, generally ripped and disheveled clothing, a paper bag and a big flashlight. It was raining, though, and towards the end of the evening, one nice lady gave me a pillowcase to use (she was out of trash bags. We lived about two miles from the "center" of Sartell, which hadn't, at that time, spread out much. I'm sure my parents would have freaked out had they known we went nearly to Sartell's city limits going up one side of the road, then came back down the other side, and went out into the countryside into "Doctor's Park" - I think we probably walked about a good 5 miles that night, in the cold rain, and nearly succeeded in filling that pillowcase. When I got home, my mom pulled out the old coffee cans (the old three-pounders were good for storage), and I filled three of them. As I remember, we later threw out about 80% of the candy. Figures. Today, you just don't dare to that. As a family, we go to the nearby mall and stand in line to trick-or-treat. When I was in Retail, they were just starting that whole in-mall Halloween thing here. I'd received an e-mail from the District Manager directing us NOT to participate in the whole thing, but I did anyway; mainly because I'd had more than a few parents look in at me and glare. Talk about stupid. I made the case to the DM later, and pointed out that for the investment of $40 in candy, I had not only happy kids, but happy parents - and parents who handled the checkbook and remembered us kindly would shop there during the upcoming all-important Christmas season. It worked, at least that year - my store hit about 80% of projections; most of the others fell into the 60% or less range. But I don't miss retail. Not a bit. Last night we apparently attended a minivan convention - well, OK, it was Juliet Lowe's birthday. She's the founder of the Girl Scouts, and they had a skating party at "Skateville" here in Burnsville. Last year was a sock hop at a nearby school. Rhiannon was excited; she had a special shirt, and hair ribbons, and all the rest. Unfortunately, she also had her father, who understands hair ribbons about as well as fish understand aerodynamics. Luckily, I couldn't find the staple gun, so she got off without bloodshed. Arrived at Skateville, and every third car was NOT an SUV or Minivan. Good grief. So we unloaded, got into line and waited - once we got her inside and unloaded, things went pretty well. She had a good time, and slept like a log. Today, cleaning and car repairs. Cleaning because we may well have the Mother Of She Who Must Be Obeyed up here at some point this weekend; Car Repairs because I expect to be working, somewhere, next week. We'll determine who drives the olde clunkere once I get it running. It's a 1988 Merc Cougar with over 200,000 miles on it - not a whole lot of sense in putting tons more money into it, I think, so we might just use it as the short-hop vehicle. So, today I'm going to attempt to get my other car back into running order, provided, of course, that it's also willing. What fun. It should only require a jump and a patched tire - and, of course, tabs. What fun. Should I survive the experience, there will be more later. Oh, LORD. The Rabid Linuxen strike again. Now, I'm sure that most Linuxen aren't as mentally unbalanced as this stupid git, but he's the type that give the rest a bad name. Seriously, if you look around the Daynotes circuit, many of them (perhaps most, though I haven't made a serious study of this) use Linux. The reason I respect these fellows is that they tell the unvarnished truth. When Tom Syroid did his great "All Linux Week" it was neat to read about his positive experiences. However, what helped me more was hearing about the difficulties he'd had. Linux is most emphatically NOT ready for "prime time." It's a server operating system primarily, and it's lacking in consumer-centric apps. That's what I continue to read. When I see Tom discussing 'downloading this library, recompiling that' and so forth, I can just see my father, a very smart man, looking at all of the hoops Linux asks it's users to hop through, throwing up his hands, and getting a Microsoft package. Why? Because he knows he will get home, break the shrinkwrap, ignore the legal threats and so forth, put the software on his computer, and it will work. He may need to call on some quasi-experts at times for some small assistance, but he's pretty much good-to-go with it. Requiring that you have the tenacity of a Tom Syroid to use your computer on a daily basis is not something that the average user wants any more. Back when IBM PC's, DOS, and Lotus 1-2-3 were the dominant players in the market, that's what it took. Today, people view it as a tool. As to the attack on Jerry Pournelle, I'm guessing that these nitwits just haven't figured it out yet. Dr. Pournelle's a professional (which I suspect these twits aren't), and Jerry needs his tools to work. The irritating thing is that these folks don't seem to understand that they're driving the casual user away with their rabidity. Keeeripes. I've got two machines sitting here right now - both towers - one a full configuration, including tape drive, which would be excellent for Linux. One is a parts box, which it would work on. But I'm likely to install NT 4.0 and Windows 98 Second Edition merely on the fact that they'll work, and I won't need to pray to the Gods of Linux to get it there. Anyone who doesn't understand that rabid defense of something as
stupid as a computer operating system is completely misplaced in this
world is, in my humble opinion, useful at best as cannon fodder.
And poorly at that. </SERMON>
Some positive news - I wish I was going with these guys, but so it goes. Maybe next time... Oh, yeah. Our esteemed Governor is liable to endorse Ralph Nader. Good night. Folks, never elect someone who's done more work with his head on the floor than he has sitting or standing, OK? Later: Locally, the various anti-Boy Scout groups are ganging up to pressure the local United Way not to support the Boy Scouts. I'm not so sure that this is a good idea. If the United Way withdraws their support of the Boy Scouts, I can assure you I will no longer give to the United Way. I'll start at the top and start boycotting the biggest United Way supporters. What ever happened to making a stand about something? I know that, as a white, middle-class male, I can't really hope to stick up for "my race" and all of that. Can't honestly see why I'd need to - for the most part, the white male has in the past done a fairly good job of stacking the deck in his favor. I'm not sure what the White Supremacists are trying to get at, other than looking like complete idiots. As a white male, I can't see where I've got cause to bitch - I've had it pretty well for a very long time. Why should I stand up and say "hey! I don't like the discrimination I'm experiencing!" I'm not. Not at all. But on the other hand, I'm getting very very upset with the vocal minority who feel that they can force their minority opinions down our throats because they're willing to bitch. As I remember from my collegiate government and psych classes, the larger the group, the more difficult it is to maintain focus and keep it together. In other words, if you can collect twenty people who believe exactly as you do, right down the line, on every issue, great, dandy, lovely. If you find thirty, wow, pretty good. If you find fifty, I'm going to guarantee you you've got at least two lost sheep in there who will likely abandon ship in a month or less. You get a hundred, the odds are nearly absolute that at least 10% of that number will be lying. So why is it that an organization like the Boy Scouts, with a hundred years of history of doing good things for young boys and young men, is now faced with all of these howling jackals because the organization will not change a policy they've had for years? Why is it that these people can claim that they, and not the MAJORITY, should be allowed to call the shots? I'm disgusted, I tell you, with all of this crap. Still Later:Earlier this afternoon we apparently held a meeting of the "Don't Use Your Thumbs" club in the apartment building where I live. Each apartment has a heavy outside-style front door. These are closed automatically with devices that small children have difficulty holding open. Plenty 'O Tension is the brand name, I think. Anyway, the afternoon sounded like a bad percussion group meeting (I've been to a few of those), and it was pretty noisy. Very little rhythm or reason to it, and they certainly didn't rhyme. Just lots of thudding. Worked on the old car yesterday for a while. It will need a jump, plus a tire or two. Not bad for over 200,000 miles. Spoke to She Who Must Be Obeyed, and we decided tabs are important (See below), but the rest can wait - no point in putting money into it until we get it started, and no point getting it running if I don't yet need it. Regarding tabs, that's required here in the state of Minnesoda. Up until last year, we had a pretty wide range of tab costs. You couldn't license a car for LESS than $38.50 (including the filing fee of $3.50), but I'd seen them as high as $200 on my Tempo. I do know that there's some linkage between the cost of the vehicle at purchase (or current Blue Book Value) and the cost of your tabs. However, last year, the fine folks in our legislature gave way to our very own bald-headed governor, who "adjusted" fees. Seems the new minimum will go up, and the top levels will come down. So, instead of me paying $485 to annually license my big honking Lincoln Navigator (like the Governor drives in), I'll pay something in the neighborhood of $60 (probably) to drive my little four-cylinder Tempo. Instead of $38.50. Sheesh. And you can't have a car anywhere in view on your property in a municipality in this state without current tabs. Good grief. I'm still hopeful that the new employer will get me to work here before the end of the money - if not, I'm really fundamentally hosed. If they do, I can breathe easier, and you folks will never again have to read about me making ketchup. Well, not until next summer, at any rate. Later Still: Well, that was fun. We hit the mall, and wandered through there. I noticed most of the stores had participated, but some weren't very well prepared. I mean, we got to the mall at 5:45, which was 45 minutes after the trick-or-treating started - it was supposed to be 5-7 pm. I'd say there were about 20% of the stores that were out of candy, and 10% that didn't participate at all. Jack wandered around with his Crusader outfit on, and ended up running into another fellow about twice his size with a similar uniform. However, this larger bloke had a cross on his armor, whereas Jack had a griffon. We decided that the larger one was a true Crusader, while Jack was just a plain old Welsh knight. He handled it well. Of course, one of the problems we have is that our kids have two sets of aunts and uncles close by. One set didn't participate in the neighborhood extortion of candy, as at last count (about three years ago when they did it) over two-thirds of the people coming to the door were teenagers - sans costumes, just holding bags. So they didn't participate, they just got the candy and split it between my two kids. After their daycare party and going through the mall, the kids probably had three pounds of candy. They doubled that amount at the first stop. Then we went to the second stop, where their aunt and uncle were more moderate, and yet twisted. The pumpkin picture above is from that aunt's house - weird woman. So I'm looking at about fifteen pounds of candy, all told. I've got to do something with it or it will become about thirty pounds of fat on me. Now, to find a lock with only one key and send it to work with my wife. I'd lock that candy into the toolbox and leave it there. Of course, sooner or later I'd need to fix something, so that might not be a good idea... ;-).
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I can hardly wait for this whole election mess to go away. It won't be over soon enough. This morning, on the local pre-Today news show, I counted twenty-seven political ads (of thirty-one), in only 30 minutes of "news". It's pretty clear we'll end up with a more moral individual occupying our primary residence. We certainly can't do worse. What's pretty unclear is whether or not that individual will be capable of maintaining the growth we've experienced, let alone improving upon it. Obviously, I think the two individuals depicted to the right are less capable in that regard, but I think in this case we're talking scores of 75 and 78 out of a hundred, perhaps. I guess I just don't want to return to the era of Bush-League Economics. I don't think the son's got half the brain his old man had. However, given that most of the boom in the last few years has been driven by technology and the internet, I'm not so sure that anyone can sustain it, or prolong it. It's pretty clear by the cyclical nature of our economy that we're overdue for a "correction" and we'll see it soon enough. I don't think we'll get the great depression, I honestly think we'll get a bit of a slowdown that will look minor compared to what we had in the early 90s, but it will slow down. Nuff of Minnesoda economics. On to the weather. Yesterday was, oddly enough, our first truly sunny day in about the last two-and-a-half weeks. We had been either cloudy or rain-off-and-on for the balance of that time; so of course, all that sunlight warmed up the region, and last night we had a few lightning shows come through. And today, they say there's a chance that there might be a tornado to the west of us. Lovely. November first and we're still not out of the tornado season. For those of you who care about the traffic around here, a brief recap - we're in week three of the "Great Ramp-Meter Shutoff" and the Honorable Richard Day, State Senator, Owatonna, who begat this bastard brainchild of a test, is now complaining. Oh, not about the traffic, or anything like that. He's whining that people are TALKING about the traffic. Yes, you read that right - his complaint is that the MnDOT people, the traffic monitors, and all the rest, are screwing up the traffic by talking about the fact that our accident rate has nearly doubled. This ignores the fact that I used to be able to get from Eagan to downtown St. Paul in something like 20 to 25 minutes, and on Monday and Tuesday of this week, if I'd stayed on that normal route, it probably would have taken an hour or so. I'm hearing horror stories of people who used to take ten minutes to get anywhere, and it's now taking them an hour or more. One fellow the other day complained that he'd been on one of our major freeways (169 Northbound) for over a half-hour, and had not in that time exceeded fifteen miles an hour; at the time he called, he'd been stopped for five minutes, at a DEAD STOP. So, honorable Senator Richard "Dick" Day, why is it that you're so damned concerned about the ramp meters in the Twin Cities area when you represent, and should be driving in from, Owatonna? Can you answer me that? Oh well. I've got five loads of laundry in the dryer, reading and cleaning to do, for The MOSWMBO will be here Friday afternoon. Let's see... Monday night was Girl Scout Rollerskating, Tueday was Halloween, tonight I get to poison the teachers at my daughter's school with my cooking (it's Parent/Teacher conferences tonight, Rhiannon's is at 6:45, and we need to feed the teachers beforehand), tomorrow is Grocery night prior to the party (possibly Ann will work late, as well, because she's got a meeting on Friday), Friday Ann will be leaving early so we can A) borrow a friend's car, B) pick up some of the food for the party, C) pick up the MOSWMBO and escort at the airport and deliver them unto the hotel we've got them booked into (and we should probably confirm that room with a credit card), and D), prepare for Saturday, which is the party. And Sunday, the MOSWMBO will have to fly out at one-ish. As a result, postings from here on out will be short. I will, however, take pictures to share. Good grief, I'm just too damned busy Silly me. The fine folks who had been breeding the Rhinos upstairs moved out earlier this week. Now, apparently, the elephant breeders are moving in. One certainly wouldn't expect things to shake on walls, but one hopes that once the elephants are in and settled, we'll all be a lot happier. Then again, if they've got an agitated bull elephant up there sans mating material, I do dearly hope the apartment management that let them bring that behemoth in here performs in a surrogate fashion. Oh. I see. After having words with the individuals upstairs, they're just the folks refitting for the elephant breeders. Thank God. One more "whump" like the last one and I'll be picking ceiling plaster out of my hair. Although it almost seems like we've got a convention of blind men with canes up there at present. Much annoying tapping going back and forth across the floors. This is really irritating. I've got to get out of this nuthouse. We've decided that if the house is a no-go, we'll move to a larger apartment, bite the bullets, and wait to see what happens in a year or two. The new home will be closer to school and church, further from daycare, closer to relatives (just about down the block from where my sister and her husband live), and a great deal more floor space. It also includes a two-car garage. Whoo hooo. If you can't get a house, it's almost the next best thing. Later: Oh. Well. Ouch. That last would be screamed in horrifying pain, if I could catch my breath. I got a message from the fine folks who hired me a month ago now, saying they're not anticipating any immediate need for my services. Just what I need. One week to go in pay, and I'm back in the damned job market hunting for a job. The next few days things will be "short shrifted" (™ Dr. Jerry Pournelle) until I get some income-producing projects going around here. I can assure you, though, that if this sort of thing keeps going the way it has, I'm going to be very disappointed in a number of folks. Including myself. I keep telling myself that my faith in my fellow humans isn't misplaced so much as I would think, but this sort of thing really REALLY hurts. At least I solved the watch problem. Picked up my old watch and switched bands with it. Now I can tell time properly. Just advance the date, what, eleven days and we're OK, right?. Now, about a job...
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Sunday Last night I was fiddling around with numbers. Believe it or not, I do that for fun. One of my first spreadsheets in Lotus 123 was to analyze the random number function within the spreadsheet - I wanted to see if I could actually create a series of random numbers which would make a bell curve. Managed to do it. Anyway. Last night I was fiddling around with the stats from this place. No, I've not got the web logs or anything really spiffy like Mr. Thompson or Dr. Pournelle do, but I've got my SpacePorts stats page, and I've been dumping that data into a spreadsheet. Oddly enough, Wednesday seems, so far, to be my peak day. Back when this site was on Tripod (hawk, patoie), I had the same basic cycle - Wednesdays were the big days. Others were slower. Oddly enough, Tuesday seems to be when a lot of people go back and catch up on their previous week. However, I should point out that by "day" they mean roughly 2 am to 2 am, which seems to post about 2 pm, my time zone. I really need to get me one of those fancy clocks that converts my time to GMT and back again... What the hell am I talking about? I can't even set my very own bloody watch right! Yesterday afternoon I was in a mad scramble trying to get shredded cheese for the lasagna I was making (we feed the teachers on conference nights - parents sign up and bring a dish, last night was Italian, and I made "short-cut lasagna" - Herself says that the magazine's right - eight minutes to prep, and fifteen to back, brings it to the table in less than a half-hour. I'm telling you that that bit's a crock, right off. Took me nearly seventy minutes to get that first batch into the oven, counting the run to the store and back. Second batch was a more sedate thirty. I'm sure in a few years I can get it down to eight minutes, but that's shoddy workmanship, and that's something up with which I will not put - around here, at least). I ran to the store, got everything ready to go, and was on schedule - then I looked at my watch, and subtracted the hour. Damn, I was well-ahead of where I needed to be. Sheesh. Well. After last night's basic shocker (my job falling through), today is going to be a mad scramble. I've been working in IT for the last nine years. I've done implementations of time and attendance systems from lowly timeclocks to great integrated systems of computerized data collection devices. I've done network administration on Novell, NT, UNIX, VMS, and even Macintosh. I know my stuff, and I know what I'm doing. Apparently, I'm overpriced for my present skill set, regretably. This likely means that the house dreams will go bye-bye at least for a year or two, and we'll end up looking pretty hard at other apartment choices. I don't know about SWMBO, but I'm inclined to sit tight for another six months in the present domicile to see what happens. We shall see what we shall see, however. Since I haven't worked for these folks, I'm fairly certain that the agreement I've signed isn't worth the toner that it was printed with, let alone the paper. However, since they haven't paid me, I'm wondering if they're my employer? I wonder. And again, in case you missed it, that firm that felt I could be trained as a QA professional, and make some significant contribution to the world at large, last night said they did not anticipate any short-term future increase in demand for a person such as myself. In other words, thanks, but no thanks. So now, I've got all of this "stuff" from W. Edwards Deming (who, it seems to me, bought his own line, which is a good thing if you're going to attempt to sell it to someone else). Pretty impressive, except for one thing. It's not gonna feed the kids. SO: Today is pound the ads day - hit the job sites, and hope, like hell, that something pops up in my line that I'm qualified for that will pay. Anything. I tell you, this whole "let's get a new job thing" sucks dead bunnies through multiple and small-bore straws. I envy those of you who are both gainfully and successfully employed. I'll get there, but there's bound to be a hiccup. And we don't like hiccups. Before I forget, though, I've finally finished the Halloween pictures. I'm working on other special surprises, too. We'll see how it goes. And JHR's posting for yesterday is right on - I would like to see Linux succeed as well, but I'll be damned if I'm going to stick my head back into that blasted "Jihad" type-mentality. Some advocacy is good, but when you go attacking others to make your point, you've already lost the battle. Should you choose to attack someone as respected as Dr. Pournelle, well, good luck. When they pick up the pieces of the windmill, hope your armor held. Knuckleheads. Later: Well, that should be fun. Sent out perhaps 20 resumes this morning, made a few, okay, maybe fifteen calls. Now I wait. God, I hate this. However, I'm sure this fellow's neighbors hate him more... I'm not exactly blameless in all this, I have to admit. I turned down perhaps three interviews after accepting the job at Spherion, on the assumption that they hired me, and they deserve my loyalty. Is it any wonder that the average worker these days just ain't loyal any more? I guess what is most frustrating about this process is the lack of communication. I signed papers on September 27 regarding what I could and couldn't do as a Spherion employee. Now, however, I'm looking at next week as my last paid week, and after that, I'm going to have to do something like Home Depot to make ends a little closer together. And I sit here on the one hand thinking we should cut expenses, and on the other thinking "well, if the kids are out of daycare, we're going to have to do something to amuse them." Good grief. If this doesn't drive me postal, nothing will. Then again, as the saying goes, "that which does not kill us makes us stronger." This should bloody well make me Superman.
And just when I needed it (Thanks, Dear), You can't go too far wrong with people like SWMBO looking out for you. Now to justify her faith in me. Still Later: Well, that's very reassuring. I've spoken with a number of both recruiters and others. It's nice to know that they're still thinking I'm valuable. I've talked to a couple of people who've said that they've got some excellent positions available. Let's hope that one of them pans out.
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Sunday Oh, this is rich - First : Got this as an e-mail yesterday afternoon... Urgent Notice! So far, that's cute. However, on the local ten o'clock news last night, the fourth story in the lead block was about this e-mail, and how everyone should vote on the same day. Puh-Leeze. If they're stupid enough to believe the e-mail, should we allow them to vote? I mean REALLY, now. SWMBO worked late last evening, which I do not begrudge since she's at least working. However, on the way up to get her, I started thinking about the four inventions/developments which I really can't wait to happen. First : A Speech-recognition package my son can use to copy down his stories. Tonight, for example, on the way up to get SWMBO, he was talking about how Anakin Skywalker (one of his heros, God help me) fought a dinosaur, and the dinosaur ate Anakin, but he used a fast car to get out and get away. I'm not sure if there's a movie in that, but I've left three messages for George Lucas just in case. Second : The auto-tagging road sign for speeders. On I-35E Northbound into downtown St. Paul, we start out near my home with a 70 mph speed limit. When we cross I-494, which is the southern and western part of the beltway around the Twin Cities, it drops to 55 mph. Some 6 miles further up, I-35E becomes a "parkway"; speeds are posted at 45 mph, and no large vehicles (specifically semi trucks) are allowed. I try to follow the speed limits (those tickets are damned expensive), but I'm regularly passed like an old fart in a driving hat. I want those people BUSTED, not just getting away with it. That, or I want a stack of "but he did it too" cards - they seem to work for some kids (though not mine). Why not me? Third : My winning lottery ticket. Forty million or more, please. Yes, I'm greedy. Fourth : A plot for my life. I think this whole thing would be far more interesting if there was a decent plot here. Frankly, I want the line "and they lived happily ever after." at the end of it, and I'd want George Lucas to direct (Definitely NOT Quentin Tarrantino). I think I'd like some handsome young feller to play me - perhaps Matt Damon or Brendan Frasier - as a "yout," and the older world-weary me could be played by a bearded Harrison Ford. For the female lead, SWMBO, of course, I don't dare suggest an actress - I'd be filleted alive. That way I would know that the dips and valleys would have peaks after them - I don't want to end on a down note. I think the working title of my autobiography to date is "You Can't Keep A Good Man Down - so stop it already, would ya?" Enough pathos for the day. I've got to get out of here, as SWMBO gets off work at 11:15 am (even after going in an hour late), so we can
Well. That should keep us busy. But before I go - one short note. I heard from various sources, starting last night, that Bush was stopped for driving under the influence back in 1976. Cheney roars out of the gate this morning with a "me too, in '62 and '63" announcement. While I think it's unfortunate that they've driven drunk in the past, I think it's VERY unfortunate that these things came out now. I think if Gore was smart, he would issue a statement saying "I don't know what Mr. Bush's or Mr. Cheney's actions of 24 or 37 years ago could have to do with today's presidential race. Let's focus on their records, and what they're going to do, and finish this race." In a sick way, I do kind of like this. Although I expect most US web sites next Tuesday to be near-dead in terms of speed. I think there's going to be a lot of people punching sites looking for voter returns. I know the Minnesota Secretary of State's site was up to the task in 1998 - in '96, it pretty well sucked - you got the results about a month later. I think this year we'll see a whole lot of pushing and shoving, and wouldn't be surprised if this thing was still up in the air until early Wednesday. Oh well. Off to shop. And before I forget, Thanks BOB. I owe you one, either way. Later: Well, got about 70% of the above done. Not nearly enough. Need to do grocery shopping tomorrow morning, and lots of cooking after that. However, I'm a little concerned about this particular web site. Some claim that squirrels are the root of all evil, and yesterday I heard a rumor that Satan himself was actually one (a Squirrel, that is). However, I happen to have known Bullwinkle, and through him, met Rocket J. Squirrel, and a nicer, more honest fella you'd never want to meet. After some long discussions, Rocky and I came to the conclusion that squirrels get a bad rap, mostly because of their size. It's not the squirrels who cause the problems these people seem to think are caused by squirrels; it's the damned chipmunk who REALLY are causing problems. I'll provide evidence if need be, but you people really need to look closely. It's the squirrels you notice - the damned little chipmunks know about camouflage, psychological operations, and they've even got a couple of their number in both the NSC and the CIA. Squirrels just aren't smart enough to hide when they need to. That's the whole problem. Bad PR, and being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Remember that, you guys...
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Sunday Ooof. Well, the party has gone on, and is done. Some had a plenty good time, let me tell you. Aside from one poor fellow who was so puking sick he and his family COULDN'T come (ah, and I remember the good old days when that was the GOAL of the party, and not the prevention thereof), we had fun. Thank-yous will be sent out this week, but I netted a copy of Gene Kranz's autobiography "Failure Is Not An Option" and a copy of Sim City 3000. God willing I'll get the chance to play with it in my "free" time. However, it's painfully clear that Dr. Jerry Pournelle has discovered, and uncovered, the internet's horrible little secret - that damned "Critical Need Detector." And this one I know where I can lay the blame on. A number of years ago, our local telephone company was called "Vista". They were sort-of but not really big-time. They'd built a new building down in the valley below us a few years before. After less than 6 months of them being "Vista" they were purchsed by "Frontier" based out of New Yawk. These folks made all sorts of noise about committing to improving the quality of service, etc., and then proceeded to close down the local personnel and shift things eastward. Funny thing, they discovered shortly thereafter that you got cheaper labor here in fly-over land. So the local office started back up. Of course, now, as part of that huge conglomerate Global Crossings,
they can't be bothered to keep decent-quality phone line connections
working. So far this evening, I've been disconnected and had to
reconnect Well, the important stuff is done. I've gotten the Ads checked
out on the local sites, and I'm now struggling to post this - you see
it, I made it. I'll try doing fancy stuff tomorrow. Like
visiting other sites.
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Sunday Ugh. 7:30 am and I'm awake. I just noticed on my other homepage that my counter there's been going for two years without a reset, and I've reloaded that page over 1400 times. Well, someone has... ;-) After last night's rather irritating attempts to connect to and use the blasted internet, this morning's is rather frighteningly easy. Sheesh. Some times you gotta wonder if there's a critical need detector (™ Pournelle) running here. The reason last night's access was critical was due to the local newspaper's classified ad listings. They post the new job ads some time on Saturday (I'm not telling you when, or you'll start looking earlier, and I need all the help I can get there), and I try to get in before Sunday AM. On Sunday, the rest of the job seeking riff-raff (myself only occasionally included) get into that dogpile and fight for server time and data. And the server crawls arthritically. Well. Also after yesterday's party, my children have come home
with new toys, thanks to the Grandmothers, Aunts, Uncles, and friends in
attendance. It's very very easy to tell who among them hasn't had
children in a very long time. The ones with children, but small
ones, pick out small, thoughtful gifts that our kids really enjoy.
The ones without children pick out larger thoughtful gifts from the
list. Their favorite aunts, however (ok, the ones they see the
most), tend to pick out, on an admitted whim, various noisy toys and
games which have the unerring ability to set one's teeth on edge when
they're used in a proper (for an almost-four-year-old) fashion...
In other words, I'm expecting to go postal with Jack's new Blues Clues
matching game. "Hi, it's Me, Steve" and the Blue's Clues
jingle will set my teeth on edge in very short order. And the
worst part is that it's an educational game, so we can't even really
tell him "No, don't do that!"
I did forget to report the most disappointing development of the day, yesterday. SWMBOIT, my daughter Rhiannon, had received a "near-Furby" at her Friends party in the bowling alley some weeks ago. However, the little fellow was pretty lacking in interaction until the other day - then he woke up and began chatting pretty regularly. That is, until he took a header in the Cub Foods parking lot. Then, his mouth worked, but the annoying baby-chatter stopped flowing forth - could be a busted wire, but I fear there's more to it than that. I'll do some surgery when she's not around to see the blood and guts, but I think the little bugger's been silenced permanently. Too bad, as it was cute to watch her interact with the little bugger. But first, to get the pictures off the camera so we can use it at the airport. Gotta have pictures of kids and airplanes. Later: (I'm not sure this counts as later, since I didn't post earlier). Well well well. I think we probably could have had a better afternoon... But it was certainly busy. After brunch out, we ran the out-of-staters to the airport, and encountered two unusual facts. First was that we had about a mile and a half between the gate where they make the puddle-jumper people get onto busses to get out to their planes. The second is that the entire airport's under construction, and we're certainly lucky to have managed to get out with two cars, alive. There were at least three different places to circle you back into the airport. I'm thinking there's probably a few people who've been circling since Lindberg took off. The sad part is that they made our Iowan contingent sit on the tarmac for probably an hour and a half, and then brought them back to the terminal so they could take an extra-long look at the aircraft and the difficulties with the navigational systems. By the time WE found out about this disaster, we'd gone from the airport to home to the gas station to plymouth to drop off the borrowed car, then to the other side of plymouth to drop off the borrowed car keys (and dinner for the poor girl who enjoyed yesterday off - her first day off in the last 28, and today, she's working a 7 am to 9 pm. 34 hours of overtime last week. Can you say "ouch, nice paycheck?" I'd kinda like that problem. However, I have the feeling that parts of me would be in the freezer, and other parts would be hidden around the metro area). So THEN, we went back towards home and did some grocery shopping. We found out while in the grocery store. Then, we came home. Ooof. No wonder I'm pooped. However, I see that we're expecting snow in the western portion of the state later this week. You know what that means. Or perhaps not. You see, in this state, we have the occasional declaration of the "Snow King". For those of you who think that we do stupid things during the campaign season, you should see our Snow King elevations. First, this elevation occurs occasionally, typically on a Monday night during November or December, just shortly after a Monday night game where the Vikings play the Packers. Usually, there's got to be snow involved, or the threat of show. So what happens is that we gather in various small towns throughout the state, and consume quantities of alcoholic beverages until halftime. Then we move out to the parking lot, and the two largest individuals are armed with snow shovels. They step back about four paces and begin to whack at one another with the shovels. The first one to fall over is the runner up. If the last fellow standing can perform the Haki Lunda Snow Dance we've got a winner. If not, he's neutered, bound and gagged, and shipped to the north pole to work for Santa as an elf. The simple enjoyment we get from watching to large, drunken men attempting to bash one another with snowshovels makes it almost worth all of the shoveling we have to do later in the year. More on that later... I'm sure we'll get snow. It's Minnesota, after all. The strangest part of today, though, was when we stopped in the grocery store, and found that they had small packages of "baby kiwis" for sale. I thought that we were a barbaric bunch, but to take such small children, package, and sell them in grocery stores in this country kinda worries me.
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