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  <title>The Aerie</title>
  <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://albatross.org/" />
  <modified>2008-06-20T15:32:18Z</modified>
  <tagline></tagline>
  <id>tag:albatross.org,2008://1</id>
  <generator url="http://www.movabletype.org/" version="3.32">Movable Type</generator>
  <copyright>Copyright (c) 2008, Albatross</copyright>
  <entry>
    <title>Joe Sodd III</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://albatross.org/journal/archives/001918.html" />
    <modified>2008-06-20T15:32:18Z</modified>
    <issued>2008-06-19T22:38:36-06:00</issued>
    <id>tag:albatross.org,2008://1.1918</id>
    <created>2008-06-20T04:38:36Z</created>
    <summary type="text/plain">Our neighbor&apos;s son was murdered yesterday. He died a few miles away, in a quiet neighborhood wedged in between the freeway and a couple of colleges, while riding his moped home from giving a dance performance. Joe Sodd III was minding his own business when someone, for reasons unknown, decided to stab him to death. I didn&apos;t know Joe Sodd III terribly well (grandson of the Minnesota PGA Hall of Fame player). When he worked as a waiter at a local restaurant, he had served my wife and I dinner. But as the Star Tribune points out, he was a...</summary>
    <author>
      <name>Albatross</name>
      <url>http://albatross.org</url>
      <email>albatross@albatross.org</email>
    </author>
    <dc:subject>Obituary</dc:subject>
    <content type="text/html" mode="escaped" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://albatross.org/">
      <![CDATA[<p><a href="http://www3.mpls.k12.mn.us/marcy/musicals_folder/birdie/birdie.html" target="_new"><img src="http://www3.mpls.k12.mn.us/marcy/musicals_folder/birdie/scenes/maude%27s" width=250 align=left hspace=5></a>Our neighbor's son was murdered yesterday.</p>

<p>He died a few miles away, in a quiet neighborhood wedged in between the freeway and a couple of colleges, while riding his moped home from giving a dance performance. <a href="http://gregboudreau.com/photo_booth/photos/joe_sodd.html" target="_new">Joe Sodd III</a> was minding his own business when someone, for reasons unknown, decided to stab him to death.</p>

<p>I didn't know Joe Sodd III terribly well (grandson of <a href="http://www.minnesotapga.com/awardwinners.asp" target="_new">the Minnesota PGA Hall of Fame player</a>).  When he worked as a waiter at <a href="http://www.craftsmanrestaurant.com/" target="_new">a local restaurant,</a> he had served my wife and I dinner.  But as the <a href="http://www.startribune.com/local/20302819.html" target="_new">Star Tribune points out</a>, he was a gifted young man with lots to offer the world. </p>

<p>I cannot fathom his parent's grief, nor do I wish to try.  Just thinking about it makes my head spin.  The Star Tribune did a service by <a href="http://www.startribune.com/video/20521069.html" target="_new"> posting a video</a> that shows some of this young man's accomplishments.  There are <a href="http://typoscura.blogspot.com/2008/06/homie-down.html" target="_new">any number</a> of <a href="http://katsteardrop.livejournal.com/" target="_new">web tributes</a> to Joe by <a href="http://pseudoisaac.livejournal.com/" target="_new">his peers</a>, which show how many people cared about him, and how much he will be missed.</p>

<p>The Sodd's have lived down the block from us for the seventeen years that we've lived in this house, and it is my deep regret that I did not get to know their son better. He was a student at Marcy Holmes school, and the photo above is eight years old now, with Joe in the center, from a production of 'Bye By e Birdie.'</p>

<p>There will be a memorial for Joe on Sunday at the <a href="http://www.readthebridge.info/7194" target="_new">Triple Rock Social Club</a> which is very close to where he was killed.</p>]]>
      
    </content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>Addendum and poster</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://albatross.org/journal/archives/001901.html" />
    <modified>2008-06-10T15:01:53Z</modified>
    <issued>2008-06-10T08:42:01-06:00</issued>
    <id>tag:albatross.org,2008://1.1901</id>
    <created>2008-06-10T14:42:01Z</created>
    <summary type="text/plain">Apparently I was too quick to post, yesterday. It took til this morning, but KSTP has posted the article along with the video of the crazy St. Francis councilman which caught my attention while flipping channels. So now you can watch and judge for yourself, although as I mentioned in a discussion with my friend Tim, you CAN count on the media to edit the interview in order to get 100% pure uncut China White craziness. Still, it doesn&apos;t appear that it took a lot of editing. Also, rebounding from my crushing defeat on a technicality in Bruce Schneier&apos;s Third...</summary>
    <author>
      <name>Albatross</name>
      <url>http://albatross.org</url>
      <email>albatross@albatross.org</email>
    </author>
    <dc:subject>Quick</dc:subject>
    <content type="text/html" mode="escaped" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://albatross.org/">
      <![CDATA[<p>Apparently I was too quick to post, yesterday.  It took til this morning, but KSTP has posted the article along with <a href="http://kstp.com/article/stories/S471924.shtml?cat=1" target="_new">the video of the crazy St. Francis councilman</a> which caught my attention while flipping channels.  So now you can watch and judge for yourself, although as I mentioned in a discussion with my friend Tim, you CAN count on the media to edit the interview in order to get 100% pure uncut China White craziness.</p>

<p>Still, it doesn't appear that it took a lot of editing.</p>

<p><a href="http://albatross.org/images/blogpix/securityposter.jpg" target="_new"><img src="http://albatross.org/images/blogpix/securityposter.jpg" align=left hspace=5 width=50></a>Also, rebounding from my crushing defeat on a <i>technicality</i> in Bruce Schneier's Third Annual Movie Plot contest (Pfft!  "150 words or less"... it's a <i>guideline</i>!) my caption for <a href="http://www.schneier.com/blog/archives/2008/06/schneier_motiva.html" target="_new">the Bruce Schneier motivational poster</a> has received wide acclaim.  So that motivational poster is available by clicking on the thumbnail at left...</p>

<p>And WHY am I focusing my life on entering various contests on the Bruce Schneier blog?  Because it's about the only blog I can actually justify reading while I'm at work!</p>

<p>Well, that, and I have no life.</p>]]>
      
    </content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>Whatsa Mater With St. Francis?</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://albatross.org/journal/archives/001900.html" />
    <modified>2008-06-10T12:18:47Z</modified>
    <issued>2008-06-09T22:22:18-06:00</issued>
    <id>tag:albatross.org,2008://1.1900</id>
    <created>2008-06-10T04:22:18Z</created>
    <summary type="text/plain">St. Francis is my alma mater, I graduated from St. Francis high school, back in 19-mumble-mumble. At the time, St. Francis was a desolate little farm town, which thought nothing of investing in extra athletic facilities, but skimped on the educational funds. Call me biased, but when I grew up there, I thought I was surrounded by thugs and hicks and knuckle-draggers. I expressed this opinion in response to a story on the Star Tribune website, garnering a response from a friend of mine who has lived up there for the last couple of decades, assuring me that things have...</summary>
    <author>
      <name>Albatross</name>
      <url>http://albatross.org</url>
      <email>albatross@albatross.org</email>
    </author>
    <dc:subject>Quick</dc:subject>
    <content type="text/html" mode="escaped" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://albatross.org/">
      <![CDATA[<p>St. Francis is my alma mater, I graduated from St. Francis high school, back in 19-<i>mumble-mumble</i>.  At the time, St. Francis was a desolate little farm town, which thought nothing of investing in extra athletic facilities, but skimped on the educational funds.  Call me biased, but when I grew up there, I thought I was surrounded by thugs and hicks and knuckle-draggers.</p>

<p>I expressed this opinion in response to <a href="http://www.startribune.com/politics/local/19339629.html" target="_new">a story on the Star Tribune website</a>, garnering a response from a friend of mine who has lived up there for the last couple of decades, assuring me that things have changed for the better.</p>

<p>But some things never change.</p>]]>
      <![CDATA[<p><a href="http://www.kstp.com" target="_new">KSTP TV</a> had two "crazy St. Francis" stories in a row tonight. I normally do not watch KSTP TV, as it is also populated by thugs and knuckle-draggers: specifically the Hubbard family which owns the station, and is trying to turn it into a little Fox News of their own. (To their credit, however, they are the station which broke the story about the <a href="http://justoneminute.typepad.com/main/2004/10/missing_explosi_2.html" target="_new">missing explosives in Iraq</a> back in 2004.)</p>

<p>Anyway I'm flipping channels and see the face of some lunatic shouting into the camera about how he won't be kept silent any more.  <br />
Turns out he's an insane St. Francis city council member, featured on camera ranting like a madman.  I couldn't find the story on the KSTP website, but <a href="http://abcnewspapers.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=1660&Itemid=26" target="_new">I did find this.</a><br />
<table bgcolor=light grey border=1><tr><td><br />
"When he finally had a chance to response, Schaffer yelled at the top of his lungs.</p>

<p>There are no witnesses that he ever drank in his life, said Schaffer, who’s voice grew louder with every word.</p>

<p>“I resent the aspersions on my character,” he said. “I resent it very much.”"<br />
</td></tr></table></p>

<p>KSTP went to some lengths to point out that Schaffer is <a href="http://www.mngreens.org/officers" target="_new">a member of the Green Party</a>, despite the fact that St. Francis city council positions are not partisan.  I'm sure they would have been delighted were he a Democrat, and utterly silent were he Republican.</p>

<p>The second story was about the high school semester being ended early because of racist death threats against the school's (still) <a href="http://kstp.com/article/stories/s466671.shtml?cat=1" target="_new">ridiculously small black population</a>. </p>

<table bgcolor=light grey border=1><tr><td>St. Francis officials said 18 African American students attend their school of 1,800.</td></tr></table>

<p>Let me do the math.  I graduated from St. Francis, so it may take a while.  Let's see, 1800 students, 18 black, that would make... 1%! One measley percent of the school population is black, yet that's too darned frightening to some racist troll at the school.  While small, that is approximately nine times more black people at the school than during the Sevent... er, the years I was there.</p>

<p>No, not much seems to have changed in St. Francis over the last thirty... er, several years since I graduated!</p>]]>
    </content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>Happy Alberti Day!</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://albatross.org/journal/archives/001894.html" />
    <modified>2008-06-03T22:18:23Z</modified>
    <issued>2008-06-03T15:50:17-06:00</issued>
    <id>tag:albatross.org,2008://1.1894</id>
    <created>2008-06-03T21:50:17Z</created>
    <summary type="text/plain">Hey y&apos;all. I wanted to blog this yesterday, but I was too busy partying? Why? Because yesterday was &quot;Alberti Day&quot;! Yes, it&apos;s carved in stone somewhere, so it MUST be true. Alberti Day was named on behalf of the first Italian settler on Long Island. To put things in perspective, when this guy stepped off the boat, Columbus&apos; discovery of America was not as old as the Civil War is to us now. Along those lines, my friend Giovanna has clued me into the fact that if you can trace your ancestry back to Italy, you can become an Italian...</summary>
    <author>
      <name>Albatross</name>
      <url>http://albatross.org</url>
      <email>albatross@albatross.org</email>
    </author>
    <dc:subject>Personal</dc:subject>
    <content type="text/html" mode="escaped" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://albatross.org/">
      <![CDATA[<p>Hey y'all.  I wanted to blog this yesterday, but I was too busy partying?  Why?  </p>

<p>Because yesterday was "<a href="http://www.italianhistorical.org/Biographies/Special%20Interest/Alberti.htm">Alberti Day</a>"!<br />
<a href="http://www.italianhistorical.org/Biographies/Special%20Interest/Alberti.JPG"><img alt="AlbertiDay.jpg" src="http://albatross.org/images/blogpix/AlbertiDay.jpg" width="252" height="39" /></a><br />
Yes, it's carved in stone somewhere, so it MUST be true.  </p>

<p>Alberti Day was named on behalf of the first Italian settler on Long Island.  To put things in perspective, when this guy stepped off the boat, Columbus' discovery of America was not as old as the Civil War is to us now.</p>

<p>Along those lines, my friend Giovanna has clued me into the fact that if you can trace your ancestry back to Italy, you can become an Italian citizen!  And since my father's father was from Palermo, I have the opportunity to undertake the multi-year quest to gain Italian citizenship.</p>

<p>This is no small thing!  WIth such citizenship, I could get work in the European Union, and also I could own property in Italy.  Here comes my Tuscan retirement villa!  Gio has offered to help me out with this quest, with the caveat that she's moving to England in the fall in order to become an archaelologist.</p>]]>
      <![CDATA[<p>Other than that, the news is that I'm continuing my quest to NOT work more than 40 hours a week, in the hopes that this will improve my health.  It helps that I was given the resources of another individual to assist me, so I can give him the extra 20 hours that I've been working every week.  So I've been trying to get my more bicycle rides in, and to get to the gym a little bit more.  Also my wife has been helping me with nutrition.</p>

<p>Speaking of my lovely spouse, we recently celebrated our 19th wedding anniversary, which strikes me as completely nuts.  That means of course that we celebrated the 20th anniversary of our engagement.  Here's the thing - nobody told me that life accelerates so fast as you age!  It just doesn't feel like we've been married for twenty years.  Heck, I don't feel like I've done ANY particular thing for Twenty Years, although I know that I have.  </p>

<p>Anyway we had a lovely trip down in Red Wing, which photographs I'll post when I have a minute. Lots of shots of turkey vultures flying over bluffs.  We stayed in the St. James Hotel, which has regrettably (or not depending on your dietary condition) canceled its Sunday Morning Gorge Fest, also known as the Sunday Breakfast Buffet.</p>

<p>The weather being fine, we ate an ordinary breakfast out on the patio.  I enjoyed listening to the fifty-something woman behind me discuss politics with her husband, the highlight of which conversation was when she started a sentence with the phrase, "Well, the word on the street is..."  I almost choked on my coffee.  I wonder if she also spoke "Jive"?</p>

<p>So hopefully I'll be blogging and writing a little more than I've been able to over the past couple of months.  I know, promises, promises...</p>]]>
    </content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>180 Hours</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://albatross.org/journal/archives/001877.html" />
    <modified>2008-05-08T20:03:41Z</modified>
    <issued>2008-05-08T09:44:50-06:00</issued>
    <id>tag:albatross.org,2008://1.1877</id>
    <created>2008-05-08T15:44:50Z</created>
    <summary type="text/plain">Hey y&apos;all. I know and understand that you&apos;ve stopped checking for updates here. I get it. Haven&apos;t updated in forever for two reasons. First, I started writing a big entry about online cameras, and it has stood in the way of subsequent posts. I&apos;ll finish it eventually, but I have to stop letting it clog up my other posts. Second reason is that I&apos;m in the middle of my third consecutive 60 hour work-week. Things at work have gotten totally crazy, so I simply haven&apos;t had time to post (or to bathe, for that matter - I&apos;m pretty ripe!) HOWEVER.......</summary>
    <author>
      <name>Albatross</name>
      <url>http://albatross.org</url>
      <email>albatross@albatross.org</email>
    </author>
    <dc:subject>Personal</dc:subject>
    <content type="text/html" mode="escaped" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://albatross.org/">
      <![CDATA[<p>Hey y'all. I know and understand that you've stopped checking for updates here.  I get it.  Haven't updated in forever for two reasons.  First, I started writing a big entry about online cameras, and it has stood in the way of subsequent posts.  I'll finish it eventually, but I have to stop letting it clog up my other posts.</p>

<p><img src="http://www.schneier.com/images/cover-practical-150h.jpg" hspace=5 align=left>Second reason is that I'm in the middle of my third consecutive 60 hour work-week.  Things at work have gotten totally crazy, so I simply haven't had time to post (or to bathe, for that matter - I'm pretty ripe!)</p>

<p>HOWEVER....  I wanted to post really quick to announce that I'm one of the finalists in noted security expert Bruce Schneier's <a href="http://www.schneier.com/blog/archives/2008/05/third_annual_mo_2.html" target="_new">Third Annual Movie Plot Threat Contest</a>.  </p>

<p>Most government security programs are focused on what Schneier calls "movie plot threats," unlikely but flamboyant possible attacks.  For example, ever since 9/11 we've been taking off our shoes and discarding our liquids at the airport in order to prevent another shoe bomber or liquid bomb attempt.  Never mind that neither of those attempts worked, and one of them wasn't even real. The inconvenient and expensive measures aimed at preventing this very small group of possible attacks are usually unlikely to prevent them, to say nothing of preventing much more mundane and likely attacks (such as a bomb slipped onto the plane by cleaning crew).</p>

<p>Anyway my entry this year was the <a href="http://www.schneier.com/blog/archives/2008/04/third_annual_mo.html#c260856">DNA Adulteratometer</a>, a small device that detects if someone has spit in your soup.  It's meant to address the fear that someone has <a href="http://www.wgal.com/news/9882960/detail.html" target="_new">peed in the company coffee pot</a>.  More broadly, the fallacious entry addresses the insecurity and fear inherent in the growing class and ethnic divide between the (mostly white) ultra-rich and the (frequently ethnic) workers and servants upon whom they depend for their lifestyle.</p>

<p>Be sure you visit <a href="http://www.schneier.com/blog/archives/2008/05/third_annual_mo_2.html" target="_new">Bruce Schneier's website</a>, review all the entries, and then vote for mine!  Everyone who does so receives a FREE DNA Adulteratometer, as soon as they are invented and manufactured...</p>

<p>And be sure to purchase one of <a href="http://www.schneier.com/books.html" target="_new">Bruce Schneier's fine security books</a> while you're there.  They make great Mother's Day gifts!</p>]]>
      
    </content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>The Old Man Still Has It</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://albatross.org/journal/archives/001841.html" />
    <modified>2008-04-08T21:56:48Z</modified>
    <issued>2008-04-08T11:33:40-06:00</issued>
    <id>tag:albatross.org,2008://1.1841</id>
    <created>2008-04-08T17:33:40Z</created>
    <summary type="text/plain">I gave up being a programmer over fifteen years ago. After about fifteen years spent programming, I realized that programmers are the 21st-century bricklayers, and that they will always be underfunded, overscheduled, and uncredited. Rather than building houses, I&apos;d rather be the architect designing them. Plus I just couldn&apos;t wrap my head around object-oriented programming. Or if it was possible, I was by then so finished with programming that I couldn&apos;t get up the energy or interest to do it. But that doesn&apos;t mean I don&apos;t ever code. It just means I don&apos;t code very much....</summary>
    <author>
      <name>Albatross</name>
      <url>http://albatross.org</url>
      <email>albatross@albatross.org</email>
    </author>
    <dc:subject>Work</dc:subject>
    <content type="text/html" mode="escaped" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://albatross.org/">
      <![CDATA[<p>I gave up being a programmer over fifteen years ago.  After about fifteen years spent programming, I realized that programmers are the 21st-century bricklayers, and that they will always be underfunded, overscheduled, and uncredited.  Rather than building houses, I'd rather be the architect designing them.</p>

<p>Plus I just couldn't wrap my head around object-oriented programming.  Or if it was possible, I was by then so finished with programming that I couldn't get up the energy or interest to do it.</p>

<p>But that doesn't mean I don't ever code.  It just means I don't code very much.</p>]]>
      <![CDATA[<p>Whenever I do write code, any accomplishments, however minor, are extra-special since I'm no longer a coder.  Back in the mid-Nineties I wrote a piece of C-language code that would import all-capital-letters information from a mainframe, and translate it into appropriately capitalized-and-lower-case information.  I remember how pleased I was when it worked.</p>

<p>Likewise, I modified a perl script that I found on the internet to turn it into a fairly robust image slideshow viewer.  </p>

<p>So today's accomplishment was minor, but pleasing.  Put simply, I've been re-creating the ability to build Visio diagrams with Layer buttons.  This allows for parts of a diagram to be displayed and hidden - for example, a diagram of a street could have one button for "Cars", one for "People", and another for "Both," and each button would show what's on its label and hide what isn't.</p>

<p>Building each button takes a block of Visual Basic code that looks like this:</p>

<pre>
Dim LayerObj As Visio.Layer
Dim LayerName As String
Dim LayerCellObj As Visio.Cell
Set LayersObj = ActivePage.Layers
For Each LayerObj In LayersObj
  If LayerObj.Name = "Cars" Then
    Set LayerCellObj = LayerObj.CellsC(visLayerVisible)
    LayerCellObj.Formula = True
  Else
    Set LayerCellObj = LayerObj.CellsC(visLayerVisible)
    LayerCellObj.Formula = False
  End If
Next
</pre>

<p>The problem I was running into was that if you have a lot of buttons, you repeat that block of code very time.  For instance, if I wanted "Cars" and "People" buttons, I'd have to duplicate that entire block of code, changing the word "Cars' to "People."  </p>

<p>Then I started to create additional sheets in Visio, and I discovered that each button on EVERY sheet would have one of these entries in the same code file.  Now the code block would go on for pages, with a big different block for each button on every sheet, and all the layer names extended across every sheet.  This was going to be terribly clumsy.</p>

<p>Finally, if one wanted to show ALL layers again, or contrariwise show NO layers, then one needs those buttons on each sheet, an each of those buttons on every sheet would have an associated big block of code. This was going to be a mess.</p>

<p>What I needed to do was figure out a way to re-use the same block of code over again, with different label names - what's called a "subroutine" in coding language.  Problem was, I had no idea how to specify such a thing in the Visual Basic coding language.</p>

<p>I started fooling around with it, but I didn't have a lot of time.  I tried a few intuitive guesses, but when I started to find myself using Google looking for instructions, I figured I ought to give up.  I didn't have the time to fool around digging in Google.</p>

<p>So I finished what I was doing, closed my quotations and parentheses, and saved my work.  Then, more out of habit than anything else, I clicked the button.</p>

<p>It worked!</p>

<p>I didn't even know what I'd done to get it right.  I'd simply closed quotes and parenthesis in a way that seemed reasonable, and amazingly I got the function correctly formatted, almost by accident.</p>

<pre>
Private Sub ShowLayer(ThisLayer)
Dim LayersObj As Visio.Layers
Dim LayerObj As Visio.Layer
Dim LayerName As String
Dim LayerCellObj As Visio.Cell
Set LayersObj = ActivePage.Layers
For Each LayerObj In LayersObj
LayerName = LayerObj.Name
' Debug.Print LayerName
  If LayerName = ThisLayer Then
    Set LayerCellObj = LayerObj.CellsC(visLayerVisible)
    LayerCellObj.Formula = True
  Else
    Set LayerCellObj = LayerObj.CellsC(visLayerVisible)
    LayerCellObj.Formula = False
  End If
Next
End Sub

<p>Private Sub CommandButton1_Click()<br />
'Example page Layer1 button<br />
Call ShowLayer("Layer1")<br />
End Sub<br />
</pre></p>

<p>So now I have a handy little set of buttons and subroutines to let me set up more buttons.  Instead of reproducing a big block of code, all I do is call the ShowLayer subroutine with the name of the layer to activate, or the AllLayers subroutine to turn all layers on or off.</p>

<p>If you're a Visio user who wants to learn how to make buttons, <a href="http://albatross.org/images/blogpix/Button%20Template.vsd">take a look at my example file</a> and hopefully it will be helpful for you!</p>]]>
    </content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>Weekend Oof</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://albatross.org/journal/archives/001840.html" />
    <modified>2008-04-06T23:53:05Z</modified>
    <issued>2008-04-06T11:20:18-06:00</issued>
    <id>tag:albatross.org,2008://1.1840</id>
    <created>2008-04-06T17:20:18Z</created>
    <summary type="text/plain">Well, this is my first weekend off in a while. It&apos;s rather nice not having to work seven days a week for a change, although who knows how long it will last. At the beginning of March my boss asked me to put in more time at work. We had one of these conversations over electronic chat (meaning that I captured it for posterity): &quot;how many hours are you burning per week?&quot; &quot;Well, I&apos;m burning about 45.&quot; &quot;is there anything preventing going up a little more? I am averaging 60&quot; So I took the hint and started putting in more...</summary>
    <author>
      <name>Albatross</name>
      <url>http://albatross.org</url>
      <email>albatross@albatross.org</email>
    </author>
    <dc:subject>Quick</dc:subject>
    <content type="text/html" mode="escaped" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://albatross.org/">
      <![CDATA[<p>Well, this is my first weekend off in a while.  It's rather nice not having to work seven days a week for a change, although who knows how long it will last.  At the beginning of March my boss asked me to put in more time at work.  We had one of these conversations over electronic chat (meaning that I captured it for posterity):</p>

<p>"how many hours are you burning per week?"</p>

<p>"Well, I'm burning about 45."</p>

<p>"is there anything preventing going up a little more? I am averaging 60" </p>

<p>So I took the hint and started putting in more hours.  Certainly there was plenty of work that needed doing. Still is.</p>

<p>Fortunately this week some of my responsibilities were offloaded to another person.  I could tell that in some senses this was viewed as some kind of "loss" for me, some kind of "win" for her.  And within the corporate context of career employees, that's possibly true.</p>

<p>Whenever I've been part of such "wins," however, they are usually transient and meaningless.  For one week you might be celebrated as an exceptional employee, but I have never seen long-term accruing benefits from such endeavors.  Instead one's manager leaves or the business reorganizes, or one changes jobs, and then one might as well have sat quietly in a corner as worked like a fool, the end result is the same.</p>

<p>So I was happy to "lose" and hand some unwantd and unasked-for responsibilities off to the crazy person who stepped up for the job!  What this change means, in addition to being able to relax on a weekend, or maybe even blog, is that I get to focus on the type of work I actually like doing and am skilled at.  I'll probably still be called upon to work crazy hours, but at least I won't spend it, like I did last Sunday, fiddling with Microsoft Project and impossible milestones.</p>]]>
      <![CDATA[<p>Yesterday I had the usual Saturday intentions of getting a million things accomplished. But in the afternoon I went biking with a friend (one of the planned things) and she suggested a different route.  We headed out, and the next thing I knew I was a zillion miles from home on my bike, and a long way to go to return.  I pedaled along diligently behind her <i>for two and a half hours</i>, but I am dreadfully out of shape and weigh twice what she does, so she was forced to wait up for me several times.  I arrived home dog tired and sore in places I'd rather not discuss from too long on a bike.  Towards the end I was even starting to get numb in my wrists from holding the handlebars, an attack of the carpal tunnel to which my wife is usually victim, not me.</p>

<p>So that was my weekend "oof" (I bet you thought I'd mistyped the title).  Despite resting, I was useless for the remainder of the evening.  I couldn't concentrate, and ended up getting little else done that I had planned. Today is taken up with church, and then family birthday party obligations.</p>

<p>Hopefully I'll have a chance to get some chores done tonight.  But we'll see.  </p>

<p>And then, weather and time permitting, I'll hop on my bike on Monday morning and pedal the twelve miles to work.  Because I gotta do SOMETHING to get in shape.  (Although I am proud of myself, I've been here at the cafe for more than an hour, and only eaten a yogurt and a sandwich, avoiding the tempting chocolate croissant.)</p>

<p>Hopefully my reduced workload will permit me a little more time for recreation.  </p>]]>
    </content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>Great ex-Spectacle-ations</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://albatross.org/journal/archives/001818.html" />
    <modified>2008-03-24T23:37:32Z</modified>
    <issued>2008-03-24T16:38:16-06:00</issued>
    <id>tag:albatross.org,2008://1.1818</id>
    <created>2008-03-24T22:38:16Z</created>
    <summary type="text/plain">For the first time in a month I did not work over the weekend. Oh, I worked, but I didn&apos;t work on work-work, billing work. I just didn&apos;t have time. Friday night we went bowling with our friend Terry and his two sons, and one son&apos;s charming and outgoing girlfriend. It was my delight to bowl a 134 on the second game (after not having bowled for a zillion years). This was using a nicked up house bowling ball, so it was quite an accomplishment for me. At first I ran around in an annoying fashion trying to give my...</summary>
    <author>
      <name>Albatross</name>
      <url>http://albatross.org</url>
      <email>albatross@albatross.org</email>
    </author>
    <dc:subject>Family</dc:subject>
    <content type="text/html" mode="escaped" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://albatross.org/">
      <![CDATA[<p>For the first time in a month I did not work over the weekend.  Oh, I worked, but I didn't work on work-work, billing work.  I just didn't have time.</p>

<p>Friday night we went bowling with our friend Terry and his two sons, and one son's charming and outgoing girlfriend.  It was my delight to bowl a 134 on the second game (after not having bowled for a zillion years).  This was using a nicked up house bowling ball, so it was quite an accomplishment for me.</p>

<p>At first I ran around in an annoying fashion trying to give my family members bowling tips. My spouse was challenged by the weight of the ball (you don't want to stand too close behind her) and my younger son has a remarkable delivery that involves a series of breakdance moves.  My older boy got quite exasperated with my advice very quickly.  So I stopped giving him any advice and he bowled a bunch of gutterballs,  Now, I'm not one to indulge in <a target="_new" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FftfTWgI6Y0&feature=related">schadenfreude</a>, but he wins at everything.  Halo, Fluxx, Elixir, all sorts of games, we play, he wins... so it was fun for his old man to thoroughly out-bowl him.   </p>

<p>Not that I'd ever SAY that out loud...  :-)</p>]]>
      <![CDATA[<p><object width="425" height="355" align=left hspace=5><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/KObgs81QyR4&hl=en"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/KObgs81QyR4&hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object>Saturday was spent cleaning house for Easter, since my wife was having her family over - well some of it.  Only her parents, her sister's family, and her sister's father-in-law attended, but given the size of our house that was just fine. Anyway Saturday was spent cleaning, and then dyeing eggs. Afterwards I did my monthly business expenses and went through some financial and other documents related to my small company.  </p>

<p>By the time that finished it was about 7:00 p.m., so I spent some time watching my copy of "Enchanted" that I picked up after work on Friday.  The scene where Giselle leans out the window of the Manhattan apartment building in order to sing up the wildlife to help her clean house always makes me laugh.</p>

<p>The next morning was a nice relaxing combination of egg-hunting and breakfast, marred only by the destruction of my eyeglasses.  The Boy was not well pleased when I snapped a photograph of him lying on the floor in his sleepwear, and wrestled the camera away from me quite vigorously.  After the issue was resolved I realized that I had no glasses on.  After a brief search (during which we discovered some lost eggs from last year) the glasses were found in the couch cushions - in two pieces.  Somehow the left stem of my glasses had been torn completely off!  I hadn't even realized they weren't on my face!</p>

<p><img alt="My New Glasses" src="http://albatross.org/blogpix/20080324glasses.jpg/glasses.jpg" width="190" height="190" hspace=5 align=right />Easter went well, the smaller crowd of guests made the experience much more tolerable than some past family gatherings.  After everyone left we watched the rest of 'Enchanted' that we had started the night before, then watched all the extras.  After that break my wife and I washed the fine china (not leaving THAT to the teenagers!) and then it was time for bed...</p>

<p>This morning I phoned the Vision World near work, and got prompt service, including an eye exam.  They had a cheap pair of plastic tortoiseshell frames that fit my existing lenses, which I can wear until my new glasses come in.  They had a "any pair of frames for $59" sale, so I got a $250 set of frames for $59.</p>

<p>And, thinking ahead, I got a pair of twisty, flexible frames that can be wrapped around a stick and spring back into place.  So next time The Boy decides to take on his old man in wrestling, all I have to worry about is having him pull my arms out of their sockets...</p>]]>
    </content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>Oh Danny Boy</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://albatross.org/journal/archives/001808.html" />
    <modified>2008-03-17T21:37:18Z</modified>
    <issued>2008-03-17T14:56:35-06:00</issued>
    <id>tag:albatross.org,2008://1.1808</id>
    <created>2008-03-17T20:56:35Z</created>
    <summary type="text/plain">Gosh and begorah, &apos;tis St. Patty&apos;s Day, and I without a stitch o&apos; th&apos; green t&apos;wear... Greetings everyone, I&apos;m back from a busy three or so weeks of soul-crushing depression interspersed with actual fun. I&apos;m happy to report that the Writing Retreat was a fabulous success. Tam arrived on Thursday night and slept on our couch since her brother was out of town. We stopped at Tobies on our way to the cabin, where both Tam and Mary agreed that their caramel rolls are way too big. Then we headed off into northern Wisconsin, finding the cabin without too much...</summary>
    <author>
      <name>Albatross</name>
      <url>http://albatross.org</url>
      <email>albatross@albatross.org</email>
    </author>
    <dc:subject>Quick</dc:subject>
    <content type="text/html" mode="escaped" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://albatross.org/">
      <![CDATA[<p><object width="425" height="355" align=left hspace=5 ><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/OCbuRA_D3KU&hl=en"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OCbuRA_D3KU&hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object>Gosh and begorah, 'tis St. Patty's Day, and I without a stitch o' th' green t'wear...</p>

<p>Greetings everyone, I'm back from a busy three or so weeks of soul-crushing depression interspersed with actual fun.  </p>

<p>I'm happy to report that the Writing Retreat was a fabulous success.  Tam arrived on Thursday night and slept on our couch since her brother was out of town.  We stopped at Tobies on our way to the cabin, where both Tam and Mary agreed that their caramel rolls are way too big.  Then we headed off into northern Wisconsin, finding the cabin without too much difficulty. </p>

<p>The difficulty was that the half-mile driveway was completely snowed-in!</p>

<p>Fortunately the neighbor's driveway was plowed, so we nervously parked in their lot and then trudged our stuff across to the cabin, leaving an apologetic note on the car window.  The cabin was ridiculously cold, and we had to start everything up from scratch - the drained water pipes had to be refilled, the water heater started, the heat activated throughout the house.</p>

<p><br />
It was cold until Sunday morning!  </p>]]>
      <![CDATA[<p>Then we had a marvelous time sitting around the fireplace, shivering, trying to write, hauling wood from the woodshed, etc.  Saturday I went for a walk with my camera and I'll try to post the photos soon.  Walking on the frozen lake, I discovered a mysterious set of regularly-spaced icy divots in the snow.  Couldn't fathom what they might be.  Later I discovered highly-traveled deer paths through the woods and, while following them, found similar divots in the snow between the trees.  Only later when I looked at my pictures did I realize the divots were the same - deer beds!  The divots were melted into the snow by the deer's body heat.</p>

<p>The following weekend I spent working, pursuant to my boss's request that I try to get in about 60 hours a week (seriously).  Then this weekend the family went on a peace march through Minneapolis with a large number of people in our church.  I was actually very proud that our blue baseball caps made up an appreciable portion of the fairly modest march.  Probably about 3000 people in all.</p>

<p>Then yesterday I spent working again.  I find working 60 hours a week to be terribly unproductive - I probably get about five extra hours work done in the twenty extra hours above 40.  Still, since I was asked to work it, then I'm not going to apologize for my productivity - if my client wants to pay four times as much for my output as they might otherwise, well, okay.  I sure need the money.</p>

<p>However I'm not entirely happy with this situation, so I've been entertaining other possibilities.  One job which doesn't seem too likely is as a solution architect for the sales arm of a large firm.  Nonetheless I've consented to the interviews in the interest of having some options should I choose to give up my 60-hour weeks.  </p>

<p>So Friday I sat through 45 minutes of an hour-long interview, being grilled by some technical guy over the phone.  I should have done better at the interview, but I was exhausted, so most of my answers were mumbles.  Nonetheless I forged along until he got to the end and said "So, Tim, tell me why you want to leave Medtronic." </p>

<p>Well, my name isn't Tim, and I've never worked at Medtronic, so I told him so.  Turns out he had been interviewing me thinking I was someone else.  Even funnier, a friend of mine recognized the name, and said that "Tim" was strictly a technical guy - so I was probably being quizzed at a much more technical level than I should have been.</p>

<p>So maybe I won't get that job, but that's okay, hopefully something else will come along.  Meanwhile my college homework has gone right out the window - in fact I need to contact my college advisors to let them know.  But this overwork is very depressing, and I've found the last weeks of The Slog to be particularly difficult. So when I'm not doing something fun (and often when I am)  I am enshrouded in a cloud of funk.  It's depression, I know, and I know that just because I feel lousy doesn't mean that things ARE lousy - it just means that my brain chemistry is low on "happy" and so at best things get "tolerable."  </p>

<p>I've got to figure out a way to manage all this nonsense - either just not work as much, or find a way to get some recreation or exercise on a regular basis.  Meanwhile today is as gray and sleety as any other day of The Slog, but I've seen glimpses of Spring, and am holding out hope that with Spring all things will improve...</p>]]>
    </content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>Hangin&apos; wit my Pepys</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://albatross.org/journal/archives/001788.html" />
    <modified>2008-02-27T19:25:42Z</modified>
    <issued>2008-02-27T12:58:05-06:00</issued>
    <id>tag:albatross.org,2008://1.1788</id>
    <created>2008-02-27T18:58:05Z</created>
    <summary type="text/plain">Garrison Keillor turned me on to the diary of Samuel Pepys. Actually, let me take that back. The first five words of this blog should never be written or uttered anywhere in any context, and I apologize. Anyway I subscribed to the MPR &quot;Writer&apos;s Almanac&quot; podcast in the hopes that I would be inspired to remember my writing on a more regular basis (and lookit, I&apos;m blogging!) And earlier this week he reported on the birthday of Samuel Pepys (pronounced &quot;peeps&quot; for some reason). It turns out that Pepys was a blogger! Granted, his blog was written on paper in...</summary>
    <author>
      <name>Albatross</name>
      <url>http://albatross.org</url>
      <email>albatross@albatross.org</email>
    </author>
    <dc:subject>Quick</dc:subject>
    <content type="text/html" mode="escaped" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://albatross.org/">
      <![CDATA[<p><img src="http://www.pepysdiary.com/style/default/img/header_pepys.jpg" align=left hspace=5>Garrison Keillor turned me on to <a href="http://www.pepysdiary.com/" target="_new">the diary of Samuel Pepys</a>.  Actually, let me take that back.  The first five words of this blog should never be written or uttered anywhere in any context, and I apologize.</p>

<p>Anyway I subscribed to the <a href="http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/podcast/" target="_new">MPR "Writer's Almanac" podcast</a> in the hopes that I would be inspired to remember my writing on a more regular basis (and lookit, I'm blogging!) And earlier this week he reported on the birthday of Samuel Pepys (pronounced "peeps" for some reason).</p>

<p>It turns out that Pepys was a blogger!  Granted, his blog was written on paper in a quaint format called a "diary," had an uncertain audience called "posterity," and racked up even fewer page-views than MY blog for its first few decades. Nevertheless, it has many of the characteristics of a blog.  It's as much fun as The Pillow Book of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sei_Sh%C5%8Dnagon" target="_new">Sei Shonagon</a>.</p>]]>
      <![CDATA[<p>However, much of that has been rectified!  Having been translated from its native code several times, some enterprising fellow has converted the daily diary entries of this Seventeenth Century clerk into blog entries!  So every morning over a cup of tea I travel back in time 243 years to check in on the life and career of my friend Sam Pepys.</p>

<p>I'm tempted to begin all my own blog entries henceforth with "Up, and to the office."  However, I won't start tracking my many affairs in my blog (as Pepys did) until I can come up with some kind of code that my spouse won't be able to translate. Pepys had some kind of code that he used for his liaison, which might have worked to conceal them if his wife hadn't actually walked in on him boffing the maid at least once.  But what shall I use?  Maybe pig-Latin?</p>

<p>"Oday-tay I offed-bay my istress-may"  That will work!  Now all I need is a mistress... er, istress-may.</p>]]>
    </content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>I also yell at the TV</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://albatross.org/journal/archives/001786.html" />
    <modified>2008-02-27T03:45:52Z</modified>
    <issued>2008-02-26T21:33:22-06:00</issued>
    <id>tag:albatross.org,2008://1.1786</id>
    <created>2008-02-27T03:33:22Z</created>
    <summary type="text/plain">I was reading an article entitled Earth&apos;s Final Sunset Predicted when I stumbled across this sentence... &quot;like all previous hominids and more than 99 percent of all species that have lived on Earth, humans will probably go extinct, and it will likely happen sooner than a billion years&quot; This sentence really jumped out at me, making as it did a billion-year long-jump off of a couple of extremely shaky assumptions. So, of course, being an opinionated bastard, I promptly wrote to the article&apos;s author......</summary>
    <author>
      <name>Albatross</name>
      <url>http://albatross.org</url>
      <email>albatross@albatross.org</email>
    </author>
    <dc:subject>Funny</dc:subject>
    <content type="text/html" mode="escaped" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://albatross.org/">
      <![CDATA[<p><img src="http://www.dailygalaxy.com/my_weblog/images/2007/08/08/red_giant_4_3.jpg" alt="Downtown Minneapolis, 1,000,002,008 A.D." align=left hspace=5 width=200 >I was reading an article entitled <a href="http://news.yahoo.com/s/space/20080226/sc_space/earthsfinalsunsetpredicted">Earth's Final Sunset Predicted</a> when I stumbled across this sentence...</p>

<p><b>"like all previous hominids and more than 99 percent of all species that have lived on Earth, humans will probably go extinct, and it will likely happen sooner than a billion years"</b></p>

<p>This sentence really jumped out at me, making as it did a billion-year long-jump off of a couple of extremely shaky assumptions.  So, of course, being an opinionated bastard, I promptly wrote to the article's author...</p>]]>
      <![CDATA[<p>Now I recognize that this person is just reporting the news, and is probably not entirely responsible for the sentence in question.  Maybe it was assembled following discussions with a number of astronomers - or maybe it was her own, who knows. </p>

<p>Anyway, here's my reply... enjoy!</p>

<table border=1><tr><td>Unlike more than 99 percent of all species that have lived on Earth, we're self-aware, and arguably intelligent.  So one really can't draw a conclusion from the behavior of the other 99% of life.

<p>Additionally, one of the ways in which humans could "go extinct" would be to evolve into something else.  So while whatever is around in a billion years might not be "human," it might call us its parents. So that sentence struck me as kind of a reach.  </p>

<p>You want an interesting article?  Here's my layman's theory of evolution.  Life has had various waves of evolution: fish to land, cold to warm blooded, for example.  I think the next wave of evolution will be self-awareness and intelligence.   </p>

<p>Basically, I think that a couple million years from now, about as many species of animal will be evolved from human as the ratio of furred, warm-blooded creatures to lizards right now.  In other words, as civilizations rise and fall, as human existence extends into geological and evolutionary time, humans and their posterity will evolve to fill different ecological niches.  As we have seen with ostriches and  whales, evolutionarily expensive but un-needed attributes (flight, legs) will evolve away, but traces will remain (whale finger-bones in the fins).</p>

<p>So what kind of creature would evolve from human and fill the evolutionary niche of a squirrel, a pig, or a hedgehog?  Will self-awareness, opposable thumbs, or problem solving ability remain or devolve away?</p>

<p>Wish I could live to see it!</p>

<p>So "humans" may not be around in a billion years - probably won't.  But I'm fairly confident some kind of self-aware creature evolved from us will still be here.  And, if they truly are evolved from humans, they'll probably be desperately trying to shift the planet's orbit, having waited til the last minute to start...<br />
</td></tr></table></p>]]>
    </content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>Sometimes Stuff Works Out</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://albatross.org/journal/archives/001785.html" />
    <modified>2008-02-25T17:02:41Z</modified>
    <issued>2008-02-25T10:29:15-06:00</issued>
    <id>tag:albatross.org,2008://1.1785</id>
    <created>2008-02-25T16:29:15Z</created>
    <summary type="text/plain"> I&apos;m &apos;way overloaded. My job usually calls for ten-hour days or more, then there are household chores, obligations, etc. It does make the time pass quickly, but it&apos;s exhausting. A couple of weeks ago I left for work on Tuesday morning, and didn&apos;t get a break in my schedule until Friday morning - every hour in-between was me doing something somewhere... This weekend was no different. My Biology course called for two lengthy lab exercises to be carried out - lab exercises that required days of preparation beforehand, and days of execution thereafter (one of the labs is a...</summary>
    <author>
      <name>Albatross</name>
      <url>http://albatross.org</url>
      <email>albatross@albatross.org</email>
    </author>
    <dc:subject>Quick</dc:subject>
    <content type="text/html" mode="escaped" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://albatross.org/">
      <![CDATA[<p><a href="http://classictvgames.bravehost.com/beattheclock.html" target="_new"><img alt="I actually owned this game when I was a kid..." src="http://gamesmuseum.uwaterloo.ca/VirtualExhibits/TV%20Games/beatclock/BeatClock.JPG" hspace=5></a><br />
I'm 'way overloaded.  My job usually calls for ten-hour days or more, then there are household chores, obligations, etc.  It <i>does</i> make the time pass quickly, but it's exhausting.  A couple of weeks ago I left for work on Tuesday morning, and didn't get a break in my schedule until Friday morning - every hour in-between was me doing something somewhere...</p>

<p>This weekend was no different.  My Biology course called for two lengthy lab exercises to be carried out - lab exercises that required days of preparation beforehand, and days of execution thereafter (one of the labs is a fermentation lab).    The only problem was, I needed to work on my job over the weekend.</p>]]>
      <![CDATA[<p>So I spent the weekend conducting my multi-part lab.  I cooked spit and crackers with blue solution, and boiled eggs so I could dissolve them in pineapple juice.  Then I tried making yogurt, but despite scalding the milk perfectly, I apparently killed the yogurt by pouring the hot milk directly into the jar - although that's what the instructions said to do.  By the time I fininshed cleaning up after my kimchee preparations, it was Sunday at 4:00.  After a nap and dinner I spent the evening ironing clothes in front of the Academy awards.  I <i>needed</i> the clothes ironed -  I was out of shirts that didn't look like dried up washcloths - and I appreciated having something endless and mindless to do while ironing.  It takes about 30% of my brain to watch the Academy awards, and about 30% of my brain to iron, so 40% of my brain was able to take a nap.</p>

<p>That's how busy i am, my brain is taking naps in shifts.</p>

<p>So I came into work today with none of my preparations ready for my 9:30 meeting. Oh well, I thought, I'd fake it.</p>

<p>Then my boss pulled both of us off any project related activities, because of internal billing problems...</p>

<p>So here I sit, my schedule cleared, able to blog, with none of my preparations necessary, at least till this afternoon when the billing issues have been worked out...</p>

<p>Not that I'll be ready then, either!  Still, every hour that passes is one hour closer to my three-day weekend writing retreat...  yay!</p>]]>
    </content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>Well Worth a Little Coughing...</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://albatross.org/journal/archives/001778.html" />
    <modified>2008-02-19T20:39:56Z</modified>
    <issued>2008-02-19T14:04:35-06:00</issued>
    <id>tag:albatross.org,2008://1.1778</id>
    <created>2008-02-19T20:04:35Z</created>
    <summary type="text/plain">Oh yeah, I wanted to mention this when I was talking about my recent cold... It&apos;s Saturday, and I&apos;m lying in bed in the afternoon feeling miserable. My spouse is off at a writing class. My chest feels like I&apos;m gargling hot glass, and my head feels like a kernel of popcorn about to pop. I make the mistake of breathing, and erupt in phlegmy hacking. When I can hear again, The Boy calls up from the steps up to the attic bedroom....</summary>
    <author>
      <name>Albatross</name>
      <url>http://albatross.org</url>
      <email>albatross@albatross.org</email>
    </author>
    <dc:subject>Quick</dc:subject>
    <content type="text/html" mode="escaped" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://albatross.org/">
      <![CDATA[<p><img alt="Hot Tea" src="http://albatross.org/blogpix/20080219tea.jpg/tea.jpg" width="127" height="107" align=left hspace=5 >Oh yeah, I wanted to mention this when I was talking about my recent cold...</p>

<p>It's Saturday, and I'm lying in bed in the afternoon feeling miserable.  My spouse is off at a writing class.  My chest feels like I'm gargling hot glass, and my head feels like a kernel of popcorn about to pop.  I make the mistake of breathing, and erupt in phlegmy hacking.</p>

<p>When I can hear again, The Boy calls up from the steps up to the attic bedroom.</p>]]>
      <![CDATA[<p>"Dad, are you okay?"</p>

<p>"Grawwwk" I reply, "Just this dreadful cold."</p>

<p>"Would you like a cup of tea?"</p>

<p>Would I like a cup of tea?</p>

<p>You know, it's funny.  When I tell people that I'm the dad of three teenagers, eyes roll, and knowing glances are offered. "How's THAT going for ya?" are the questions.  Teens, the consensus seems to be, are SO hard to raise.</p>

<p>I keep slient.  It seems cruel to tell people with screaming, door-slamming relationships with their teens that I like all my kids - that we all seem to get along.</p>

<p>Sixteen years old is stereotypically a selfish, demanding angry age.  Teens humiliated by their parents sneak out to drink and smoke and who knows what else.</p>

<p>So here I am, lying miserable in bed, and my "selfish," "angry," "uncommunicative" sixteen-year old says "Would you like a cup of tea?"</p>

<p>"Yes, please, that would be wonderful." I croaked.</p>

<p>A few minutes of happy anticipation later he brought up my cup of tea.</p>

<p>"Thank you," I said gratefully, "I really appreciate it."</p>

<p>I laid there, carefully sipping my tea, thinking that it was well worth a couple of ground-glass coughing fits to discover what a fine young man I'm raising...</p>]]>
    </content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>Not Lost</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://albatross.org/journal/archives/001775.html" />
    <modified>2008-02-18T17:06:08Z</modified>
    <issued>2008-02-18T10:30:25-06:00</issued>
    <id>tag:albatross.org,2008://1.1775</id>
    <created>2008-02-18T16:30:25Z</created>
    <summary type="text/plain">I was at the O&apos;Hare airport when I noticed a very weird thing. It was a set of outdated brochures for my own company, in a display on a counter in one of the stores. Since they were outdated I thought I&apos;d better collect them up, all the while wondering how they had managed to remain on display all this time. And also that they had, as far as I knew, generated absolutely no business. Well I carried them back to the seat where I had left my computer bag, and discovered my bag was missing. This was a disaster....</summary>
    <author>
      <name>Albatross</name>
      <url>http://albatross.org</url>
      <email>albatross@albatross.org</email>
    </author>
    <dc:subject>Quick</dc:subject>
    <content type="text/html" mode="escaped" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://albatross.org/">
      <![CDATA[<p>I was at the O'Hare airport when I noticed a very weird thing.  It was a set of outdated brochures for my own company, in a display on a counter in one of the stores.  Since they were outdated I thought I'd better collect them up, all the while wondering how they had managed to remain on display all this time.  And also that they had, as far as I knew, generated absolutely no business.</p>

<p>Well I carried them back to the seat where I had left my computer bag, and discovered my bag was missing.</p>

<p>This was a disaster.  Both my heavy, bulky work laptop AND my personal lightweight Vaio laptop were in that bag!  My mind started racing: what was on those laptops that I hadn't backed up?  How was I going to explain losing my work laptop to my boss?  How was I going to explain losing my personal laptop to my spouse?</p>

<p>I wandered around O'Hare airport with my outdated brochures in my arms, trying to fathom some means by which to locate my computer bag, or some person to help me find it.  Finally I wandered down a wing of the airport that was under construction, feeling very lonely and anxious...</p>

<p>...and then I woke up.</p>]]>
      <![CDATA[<p><a href="http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/ZOMG" target="_new">ZOMG</a>!  I have NEVER been so relieved to wake up from a dream, even if it was to discover that my fever had not yet broken.</p>

<p>Yes, it was literally a fever dream which I had on Saturday morning, as I woke up with my throat full of yellow-hot broken glass and my sinuses trying to expand into my brainpan.</p>

<p>From the point of view of timing, it was either perfect or completely wrong - I got sick very quickly on Friday afternoon, and Monday morning here I am back at work.  In the middle was a weekend that felt like being fast-agitated in a hot-water washing machine</p>

<p>Along the way I was bound and determined to get some work done for work - which I did finally on Sunday evening.  So basically when I wasn't hallucinating under the covers or staring glass-eyed at the TV machine, I was down in my office trying to manage the security for a multi-billion-dollar retail enterprise.</p>

<p>Sounds about right.</p>

<p>What else is new?  Well, my spouse bought new window shades to replace the dessicated vinyl Target blinds that needed replacing - and then <strike>our</strike> her cat bit right through the drawstrings on two sets of them.</p>

<p>I haven't blogged because I've been THAT busy, BTW.  Days and days on end where I'm booked from waking til sleeping, stressing over my job and people demanding results and the banshee sound of deadlines dopplering past. Gosh, I wonder why I've gotten sick?</p>

<p>But I'm actually HAPPY that I'm sick right now.  Why?  Because that means I likely WON'T be sick two weeks from now, when my writing group heads of for a retreat a the cabin of an acquaintance of mine!  Yep, our writing group alum from San Francisco is flying in, and we're all heading to the woods of northern Wisconsin for two nights of intense writing exercises and moderate drinking.</p>

<p>Well, I've got work waiting for me, so I'd better get back to it.  Just remember to keep your luggage near you in O'Hare...</p>]]>
    </content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>January Recap</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://albatross.org/journal/archives/001745.html" />
    <modified>2008-02-02T03:19:20Z</modified>
    <issued>2008-01-31T10:01:30-06:00</issued>
    <id>tag:albatross.org,2008://1.1745</id>
    <created>2008-01-31T16:01:30Z</created>
    <summary type="text/plain">Well we&apos;re halfway through! One more month to go and the world returns to life. My spouse said to me last night, &quot;Okay, I&apos;m tired of the cold now.&quot; She&apos;s a romantic, she can find charm in anything. We could be pinned down in a ditch by gunfire, and she&apos;d say &quot;This is JUST like a book I read...&quot; But just like the gunfire, the cold eventually wore through even her patience....</summary>
    <author>
      <name>Albatross</name>
      <url>http://albatross.org</url>
      <email>albatross@albatross.org</email>
    </author>
    <dc:subject>Personal</dc:subject>
    <content type="text/html" mode="escaped" xml:lang="en" xml:base="http://albatross.org/">
      <![CDATA[<p>Well we're halfway through!  One more month to go and the world returns to life.  </p>

<p>My spouse said to me last night, "Okay, I'm tired of the cold now."  She's a romantic, she can find charm in anything.  We could be pinned down in a ditch by gunfire, and she'd say "This is JUST like a book I read..."  But just like the gunfire, the cold eventually wore through even her patience.  </p>]]>
      <![CDATA[<p>The Work-life-heath routine is getting worked out. I'm waking now at about 5:30 a.m. in order to get to work in time for morning meetings, and getting to sleep around 10:30 or 11.  Not ideal but could be worse.  </p>

<p>I've started to make SOME headway on the college homework after my professor granted me an extension.  He apparently like me referring to the hydrogen atom as 'the trollop of the atomic world' because it binds to two different oxygen atoms for two different reasons, which I compared to love and lust. On good days I manage to get to the gym before work - on bad days, like today, I get to work on time.  </p>

<p>Otherwise nothing exciting to report.  My biggest accmoplishment in January was when I spontaneously decided to install a light switch in the laundry room after 16 years of staggering through the dark groping for the pull-chain.</p>

<p>I certainly didn't blog as much as I'd've liked, nor did I get any writing done.  I'm hoping to get somewhere on my college work, and I got to the gym a couple of times.  Sigh.  So many "should's, so little time..</p>

<p>And now... on to February!</p>]]>
    </content>
  </entry>

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