Signs & Portents

There have been rumors going around the office over the past week or so.

I haven't really been paying attention, having been wrestling with my own effort to stay focused on the things I needed to do. But at some point, you really can't help but notice. Maybe it's a random comment somebody makes during a conversation. Maybe you catch a snippet of a conversation in the bathroom or from people walking by your cube.

* * *

The first time it came up was the week before Halloween. We were supposed to have a potluck and costume thing on Friday and they cancelled at the last minute (the Wednesday before), replacing it with a pizza lunch celebrating the Sox winning the series. It raised an eyebrow or two. I heard one person suggest that they didn't want a social event planned for the same day as a layoff. I suppose that would have taken some of the wind out of the festivities.

Anyway, we had pizza on Thursday, and Friday came and went without incident.

But it had me nervous.

* * *

The following week, during my performance review, my old manager tells me that the project that I got pulled off of (to handle the current disaster) is likely to be cancelled. Hmmm.

* * *

The buzz picked up again this week. Nothing definite, but like I said: you pick up things here and there.

There's this quiet, stoic guy at the office who's doing most of the lab testing for the device we're currently debugging. He'll occasionally swing by my cube to give me updates of his observations and to ask for insights or recommendations. Yesterday he stopped by, and during our conversation he made a comment about the device (the details of which I've forgotten) and suddenly burst out with this lengthy, crazed laugh. It kind of caught me off guard. I mean, I've heard him laugh before, but he really does have a rather reserved countenance, so in the past it's always been just a quick smile or a light chuckle. Yesterday's laugh was boisterous. And it was uncharacteristic and unnerving.

I ask if he's heard anything. Nothing definite, but he notes that there have been several closed-door meetings and off-sites that are being held by senior management. I haven't really noticed this myself, until I catch my manager meeting with HR as I leave for a lunchtime run. And catch another manager going into her office when we return.

* * *

Today, the tension is palpable. My daily fortune:

"A surprise announcement will free you."

Does it count if you already know about it?

When I get up to get water or to go to the bathroom, I often see groups of people standing around, talking in the aisles. Not much work is getting done. Some people are already tidying their desks. But no, we're all still here.

RIF watch, day 1. All's clear.

People are guessing tomorrow or Monday. I feel like the company likes to have its RIFs on Mondays, but others correct me, reminding me that we've had one on a Tuesday and on a Wednesday before. A guy who's been at a remote site all week gives me a call about a question I emailed him and at the end asks how things are going. I'm honest with him -- I have no idea. But we have a meeting scheduled tomorrow morning (he gives me a worried response) -- a debug meeting (whew, ok) -- so we're probably ok, at least for tomorrow, I tell him.

Yeah, we'll probably have until Monday.

* * *

I'm getting ready to leave, and double check my calendar. Huh. Where's that meeting?

I check my Inbox. One new message:

Folks,
Tomorrow's, 11/12, XXXXX debug mtg has been canceled.

Oh shit.

Bah. (different from the last)

Stupid comment spam.

I'm sort of the default administrator guy over at FoodNerd!, and we started getting comment spam over there about 2-3 months ago. Online porn, gambling, prescription drugs. (I had no idea what cialis was until I started seeing this stuff.) Coffee? Dental insurance? Ok, that's a new one.

Bastards.

I've installed MT-blacklist which seems to have stemmed the tide somewhat. But the blacklist is huge (it's currently at 2172 entries) and will often take a couple minutes to run through all the steps. And I still get new URLs every day or two.

Does anyone out there have any suggestions? Should I upgrade? (We're currently running Movable Type 2.661 with MT-Blacklist 1.6.5) Are there any other tools or plug-ins out there that I should check out?

Inspiration

A friend of mine sent this to me via email yesterday; no other recipients listed in the headers. I'm not sure if she thought I needed it special, or if she had just been sending it out one at a time. Still, another take on where we go from here.

"We must make justice imaginable again in a world so obviously unjust. Give happiness back once more to people poisoned by the misery of the century. Of course that is a superhuman task but superhuman is a term for tasks that take a long time to accomplish that's all." Camus

Inspiration
by Clarissa Pinkola Estés

My friends, do not lose heart. We were made for these times. I have heard from so many recently who are deeply and properly bewildered. They are concerned about the state of affairs in our world right now. Ours is a time of almost daily astonishment and often righteous rage over the latest degradations of what matters most to civilized, visionary people.

You are right in your assessments. The lustre and hubris some have aspired to while endorsing acts so heinous against children, elders, everyday people, the poor, the unguarded, the helpless, is breathtaking. Yet, I urge you, ask you, gentle you, to please not spend your spirit dry by bewailing these difficult times. Especially do not lose hope. Most particularly because, the fact is that we were made for these times. Yes. For years, we have been learning, practicing, been in training for and just waiting to meet on this exact plain of engagement...

I grew up on the Great Lakes and recognize a seaworthy vessel when I see one. Regarding awakened souls, there have never been more able vessels in the waters than there are right now across the world. And they are fully provisioned and able to signal one another as never before in the history of humankind... Look out over the prow; there are millions of boats of righteous souls on the waters with you. Even though your veneers may shiver from every wave in this stormy roil, I assure you that the long timbers composing your prow and rudder come from a greater forest. That long-grained lumber is known to withstand storms, to hold together, to hold its own, and to advance, regardless.

In any dark time, there is a tendency to veer toward fainting over how much is wrong or unmended in the world. Do not focus on that. There is a tendency too to fall into being weakened by dwelling on what is outside your reach, by what cannot yet be. Do not focus there. That is spending the wind without raising the sails. We are needed, that is all we can know. And though we meet resistance, we more so will meet great souls who will hail us, love us and guide us, and we will know them when they appear. Didn't you say you were a believer? Didn't you say you pledged to listen to a voice greater? Didn't you ask for grace? Don't you remember that to be in grace means to submit to the voice greater?...

Ours is not the task of fixing the entire world all at once, but of stretching out to mend the part of the world that is within our reach. Any small, calm thing that one soul can do to help another soul, to assist some portion of this poor suffering world, will help immensely. It is not given to us to know which acts or by whom, will cause the critical mass to tip toward an enduring good. What is needed for dramatic change is an accumulation of acts, adding, adding to, adding more, continuing. We know that it does not take "everyone on Earth" to bring justice and peace, but only a small, determined group who will not give up during the first, second, or hundredth gale.

One of the most calming and powerful actions you can do to intervene in a stormy world is to stand up and show your soul. Soul on deck shines like gold in dark times. The light of the soul throws sparks, can send up flares, builds signal fires, causes proper matters to catch fire. To display the lantern of soul in shadowy times like these - to be fierce and to show mercy toward others, both, are acts of immense bravery and greatest necessity. Struggling souls catch light from other souls who are fully lit and willing to show it. If you would help to calm the tumult, this is one of the strongest things you can do.

There will always be times when you feel discouraged. I too have felt despair many times in my life, but I do not keep a chair for it; I will not entertain it. It is not allowed to eat from my plate. The reason is this: In my uttermost bones I know something, as do you. It is that there can be no despair when you remember why you came to Earth, who you serve, and who sent you here. The good words we say and the good deeds we do are not ours: They are the words and deeds of the One who brought us here. In that spirit, I hope you will write this on your wall: When a great ship is in harbor and moored, it is safe, there can be no doubt. But that is not what great ships are built for.

This comes with much love and a prayer that you remember who you came from, and why you came to this beautiful, needful Earth.

[Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Ph.D. is an internationally recognized scholar, award-winning poet, Diplomate senior Jungian psychoanalyst, and cantadora in the Latina tradition. Author of the national bestseller Women Who Run With the Wolves, she has also been a post-trauma counselor at Columbine High School and in the community of Littleton, Colorado, since 1999. Along with Toni Morrison and Maya Angelou she wrote the texts for a composition by Judith Weir, commissioned by Jessye Norman for performance in Carnegie Hall called "Women. Life. Song." MJH]

Chin up.

It's on.

There's an election in two years.
There's nothing we can't do.

[From the folks who brought us Get Your War On]

Too much Us versus Them is probably counter-productive, but sometimes it's better to just let yourself get angry and fired up than to wallow in depression and helplessness.

[20Nov04: updated link]

The Unifier, take 2 -- Day 2

I saw the following in this article today:

I earned capital in the campaign -- political capital -- and now I intend to spend it," he said at a news conference 24 hours after securing his second term.

These aren't the words of someone who is trying to earn people's support, to win their trust. These are the words of someone who thinks he already has it. (like that was a surprise.)

A matter of trust

Now that W has been reelected to a second term, he claims that he wants to seek "the broad support of all Americans." [AP]

"A new term is a new opportunity to reach out to the whole nation," he said, speaking directly to Kerry's supporters.

"To make this nation stronger and better, I will need your support and I will work to earn it," he said. "I will do all I can do to deserve your trust."

Funny, I thought that was what he was going to do the last time around with that whole "I'm a uniter, not a divider" schtick. He seems to have a strange idea about what it means to unite people. I always thought it meant that you were supposed to build consensus through dialog and compromise. Not: expecting a rubberstamp on anything and everything you propose, forcing your choices, picking who gets to participate in your consensus or loyalty oaths.

He said it himself:

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

Oh wait. No sorry, that's not what he said. He said this. (An explanation?)

So, shameful fool or cautious anti-American?

Not much of a choice... but perhaps par for the course these days. I guess we wait and see.

[UPDATE]
Bryan Adams saw this same quote and had his own take on it.

Your new term is a new opportunity, Mr. President. But none of us have forgotten about the last four years – a time during which we were ignored while you did things we despised. If you really want things to be different, then it’s going to have to start with you acting differently. It's going to have to start with Republicans making more of an effort. It’s going to require you to change.

And if you’re not willing to do that, then at least don't patronize me with talk of "national unity."

Check it out.

I have no blog and I must scream

"Terrible thing, to live in fear. ... All I want is to be back where things make sense. Where I won't have to be afraid all the time."
-Ellis Boyd 'Red' Redding, the Shawshank Redemption

I had trouble sleeping last night. We did end up watching Shawshank Redemption, after the SOOTTAD dealt with a few hours of an unplanned work emergency. We felt pretty good after that. But almost immediately afterwards, we were caught off guard by a foreboding soundbite on the TV just as we were turning it off. And shortly thereafter, a glimpse of an electoral map on Mozilla when I went to turn off the computer pretty much sucked all the hope and positive mojo right out of us. It was already down to 3 states and looking ugly.

Executive decision: go to sleep. It would still be there in the morning. But easier said than done. The SOOTTAD was shaking; I could feel her heart racing. I laid awake, unable to turn my brain off, thinking of all the things a second Bush presidency would mean: Supreme Court appointments, skyrocketing national debt, selling off the rest of America to corporate greed, piece by piece.

Strange dreams. (This is not so unusual.)

Tonight, there was a horse race, except with cats, and with hurdles of different heights. An out-and-back race. Several of the cats look alike. As I ride mine, we seem to be doing alright, but each hurdle becomes more difficult to clear, and we've slowed down a lot. We barely make the finish, but I'm pleased to see we've taken second, which doesn't seem too bad out of a field of five or six.

I wake up around 5am. While, in the dream, taking second feels pretty good, I have an uneasy feeling that, as far too many Americans seem to see it these days, taking second means only that you didn't take first. That you didn't win. That you are a loser.

My metaphorical horse/cat didn't win.

I can't get back to sleep -- dread and hope duking it out in my head. (dread actually going to town on hope, really.) But I keep postponing the inevitable, unwilling to turn on the radio. Blustery winds gust outside -- it sounds like turmoil to me. I give in at 7:09am. The radio is unhelpful, but it sounds bad. Online, I learn that it's down to Ohio. A sliver of hope? Will John Kerry be the Red Sox in game 4 of the ALCS? How many miracles can we have this fall?

Just one, it would seem. Kerry concedes around 11am.

* * *

The SOOTTAD cried this morning. I cannot say that I did not shed tears of frustration as well. I've been feeling it too. Stressed. Anxious. Shell-shocked. Numb. A little helpless. And I needed to get it out of my system.

Back in college, we had a traditional nightly primal scream (that is, until they banned it); I didn't think it would help now.

I thought writing might help and tried to get onto Blogger, but couldn't. Couldn't get in. Help! I need to blog! [Still having issues, even now. I've already lost one version of this post.] You'd think something big just happened or something.

So today it's been just me and the SOOTTAD looking for answers. How? Why? What next? I know we need to carry on, to be strong. But we also need to rest and recover, so that we can be ready for the right-wing onslaught that's sure to come over the next few years. The SOOTTAD worries that this was the nail in the coffin of our democracy. An understandable thought, given the reports of voting irregularities you can find around the 'net. (The Diebold machines are particularly scary.)

I ended up hitting the political blogs again to find some consolation in numbers, in shared pain, sadness. It was some help (yes, you are not alone), but not much.

Four more years.

All I can think is "Four more years? Four more years of what?"

Four more years of fear. Four more years of lies, greed, intolerance. Record deficits, uncontrolled and unchecked corporate malfeasance, deconstruction of environmental protections. An energy policy apparently made solely of concessions to the energy industry (that seems to only encourage increased consumption and international dependence), the erosion of civil liberties. Four more years of placing politics ahead of science, of using discrimination and bigotry to split the electorate.

I've read that some believe we should give him another chance, to give him the opportunity to prove himself.

Sorry, I already did that 4 years ago. And again after 9/11. And from day one, I watched him walk all over that goodwill. And, as many have pointed out, this time he doesn't have to worry about reelection.

At the moment, I'm not pissed, just sad and deeply disheartened. But I'm sure that'll change soon enough.

Hope is no longer about a Kerry presidency, it's about progressives winning the hearts and minds of those who are currently blinded by the current administration's smoke and mirrors. And preventing our democracy from sliding into the abyss.

Election Day

For the past several weeks I've been trying to avoid watching or reading about the election. I realize that it's important to stay informed, but it really was driving me crazy. I was stressed, I felt anxious, and I couldn't concentrate at work.

So I stopped.

Or at least I tried my best to stop. I don't watch TV news, but I stopped hitting the political blogs, changed radio stations, tried not to follow the online headlines. But stuff leaks in. I turn on the radio in the morning to try and hear the weather report, there's a TV on at the restaurant I go to for lunch, it comes up in conversation, it shows up in non-political blogs. We had the ALCS and World Series as a distraction (GO SOX!), but three days later I hear Schilling is stumping for Bush in Ohio. *sigh* (I had some thoughts on that in particular, but I don't want to go into it right now) You really can't get away from it -- VERB, that's what's happening.

So I've been hiding.

Yesterday, I thought I'd turn over a new leaf and avoid surfing completely. Shockingly, I was successful, and even got some work done. But today, it's election day, and you just can't get away. The SOOTTAD and I voted before I drove into the office and I thought that would be it. I'd get in, sit down at my desk, settle in and get to work. Stay focused. I could do it once, I could do it again.

I was pretty good through the morning, although I did read a (Technology) news article about the guy behind the website electoral-vote.com. Kinda cool -- I actually own one of his books, and I even sent him an email about the site a while back.

After lunch, my resolve fizzled. I just couldn't get my brain back into work mode. First checking email at 30 second intervals, the reading one blog, then another. I'm still avoiding the political sites, but I can't say that's much of an accomplishment.

So I've missed a few fun posts, and I realize that my desire to blog about things is directly inspired by reading interesting or amusing things that other people have written. And even though I know there are actually very few people that read this site, I feel like I should take a moment and say...something.

Reflect. Encourage. I don't know.

It's an important day. I think it's the fifth presidential election I've participated in, and I've never felt so nervous. This year is a big deal. A turning point. I don't think it ever mattered so much. But I'm not good with words, and I really shouldn't be spending even the time that I've already spent trying to craft something here.

But Andrew Tanenbaum has revealed himself, and I thought he had some valuable things to say.

Let me tell you a short story. When I was in elementary school, the school was plagued by a bully. He was the biggest, strongest kid around and would beat up anyone he didn't like. We were all exceedingly polite to his face, but hated his guts behind his back. One day he was chasing some poor kid and he tripped and skidded a considerable distance, scraping his face on the rough asphalt of the playground. He was bleeding and in pain, screaming for help. But nobody came to help him. We all just walked away. George Bush is the world's playground bully. The world sees him--and by inference, America--as arrogant, self-centered, and mean. I spoke to Americans from dozens of countries at the DA caucus. Everyone told the same story--the world hates America. When talking to foreigners, I can tell them about the Bill of Rights or freedom or World War II, or whatever I want, but all they see is this big, stupid, arrogant, playground bully and a stolen election in Florida last time. I think America deserves better. I want America to be respected in the world again, and John Kerry can restore the respect America deserves.

Check it out, and get out and vote. There's still time.

I'm still not going to try and follow the results on TV tonight. For one thing, even without a court challenge or a repeat of recount madness, it's probably not even going to be decided tonight given all the absentee ballots coming in this year. Maybe we'll watch Shawshank Redemption. The results can wait until tomorrow.

And until then, I'll try to keep the faith, and hope.

OH MY GOD!!!

Red Sox sweep the Cards to win the World Series!

Whoo-hoo!

(This is so cool that I will forgive Fox Network for the cuts to the "multi-national" force in Iraq watching the game.)

Vegas, Bad Luck, Good Luck

It's just over 36 hours since I got back from Vegas and I'm still feeling it. Still, I'm in much better shape than I was yesterday morning. Man, I hate redeyes (until the trip home this past March, I probably haven't been on one in almost 10 years), but I opted for the non-stop and full day home before returning to work over traveling all day. I'm still not convinced that was the best decision.

We were ostensibly out in Vegas for the Lucky 7s Frisbee Tournament, but I think most people were really just using it as an excuse to go to Vegas. That's fine by me, I wanted to play some disc this fall since I never got around to finding a team for Sectionals. And I can't say that I minded going to Vegas. Especially with this crew. We appropriately dubbed our team "Shenanigans."

The tourney was a lot of fun, but clearly not the highest priority for some people. For one thing, THE SOX MADE THE SERIES! When we were scheduling flights back in September, we already knew that the tournament was happening during the first games of the World Series... but I don't think any of us considered that the Sox would be playing. We had a bunch of Sox cheers, and received a bunch as well, including a "1918" cheer, but also several GO-SOX! from other teams. Most of us were also exhausted from the flight out, getting to bed late, and having to get up and get ready for a 9:05 start. And, of course, there was the whole Vegas thing. One of our numbers didn't show up for the 2nd day, preferring to spend it making "donations" to the local economy.

Highlights and lowlights:

• Got out of the office a bit later planned... to find a flat right front tire. F. Fortunately made it home after filling it at the local gas station, getting to the airport without further incident.
• We had reserved rooms at the Flamingo. Turns out they were overbooked. Well, sorta. So we ended up at the Luxor on the first night and back at the Flamingo for nights 2 and 3. I have to say, much nicer bathroom at the Luxor, but I'll take the truly smoke-free rooms at the Flamingo. (The Luxor rooms were supposed to be non smoking rooms, but I'd have a hard time believing that.)
• We watched the first two Red S... I mean, World Series games from the hotel room. Awesome. It was reminiscent of the 2002 NFL playoffs when we watched the Pats beat the Raiders in a Foxboro blizzard from Tampa, FL. It was great to see other fans around the city. I bought a hat in the airport so I could represent.
• I was trying to stay away from beer Sunday night -- I figured I'd have a better chance avoiding getting sick or having a hangover. Did you know that the only place you can buy booze on the strip is at the ABC store in the Aladdin? $6.99 for a 375ml bottle of Early Times bourbon. I had a few Wild Turkey Rocks as well at the bar and tables. Let's just say the plan failed.
• 3 nights, 3 days, 6 frisbee games, 2 World Series games, one 3-mile hike, 14 hours of sleep.

Y'know, I think I've pretty effectively burned out any Vegas bug I might have had before this weekend.

What could it mean?

Once again, Bill Simmons has an excellent column on game 7 of the ALCS series. However, he opens with:

I just watched my beloved Red Sox win the American League pennant. That's only happened twice in my lifetime. I watched them rally back from three games down in a playoff series. That's never happened before, not in the history of baseball. I also just watched the Sox beat the Yankees in a deciding playoff game. Not only has that never happened before, it's a possible sign of the apocalypse. (emphasis mine)

Oh no! Terrorist attacks, plagues (frogs, locusts and squirrels), and then Bush is going to get re-elected.

No.

The Evil Empire has fallen. The Sox didn't choke in game 7. Their come-from-behind ALCS victory was unprecedented. It's not about the past, the darkness, the fear. It's about fighting the good fight and beating the odds. The Sox have beaten the Yankees in the postseason. It's a sign that anything can happen. It's a sign that good things can happen.

It's still a tight race, but Kerry's still in it. He still has a fighting chance.

I still believe. I have faith. I have hope.

And I'm gonna keep staying away from the political blogs so my blood pressure doesn't go through the roof.

I'm sorry, I misspoke

Two down, two to go.

What I meant to say was: four down, four to go!

The Sox are going to the World Series!

We heard a strange crackling from outside. We went out to investigate...

Fireworks!

We whooped it up; screamed in support. (I hope we didn't wake up too many neighbors.) The last two nights have been amazing, amazing, amazing.

GO SOX!!!!!

Keepin' the faith

11pm, Ortiz lobs one into short center field to drive in Damon, the winning run.

When I was playing disc earlier tonight, there were four teams on the field in Lexington, engaged in competition. The team cheer from the other game: "GO SOX!"

On our field, I arrive late. Another group of players come after.

"Hey, what's the score?"

"four-two," I say.

Another answers, "One-zero." Oh, right -- our game, not the Sox.

The radio is tuned to the game on the sideline.

There are four teams on the field, and really, we're all on the same side.

* * *

I can watch Sox games again.

We all have our superstitions: last year, they lost every time I watched a game. Except when I was actually in the Fenway and watching the game, from bar to bar. But the extra inning loss in the first game of last year's ALDS (from my living room) was heartbreaking. And I'm sorry, game 7 just didn't happen. At least not after the 7th inning.

This year, I avoided games 1-3, but couldn't help myself in game 4, turning on the TV to watch D-Lo strike out the last two batters in the top of the 2nd. And flipped on the TV just before Ortiz cranked the game winning homer in the 12th. A friend of mine said the Sox only did well during Game 3 when someone was in his kitchen. They got ahead when he was there getting drinks for people. I was going to cut my hair after my birthday, but I caught a clip of Johnny Damon, Captain Caveman, and now I'm gonna keep it long until they win it (we're not gonna talk about that other possibility right now).

So I had the game on from the 7th inning on. The SOOTTAD got back to the house just in time to watch the hometown boys tie it up in the bottom of the eighth. And then the craziness started, as opportunities were missed and peril was averted. We started doing shots at the bottom of the 12th.

We were pissed when Francona pulled Arroyo, but were totally behind Varitek and Wake. Anticipated every Ortiz at bat. Our hearts went out to the struggling Damon, and were happy to see him make good defensive plays and bust out for the winning run. (Bill Simmons gives an excellent rundown.)

Tomorrow, game six in New York. Schilling starts.

Two down, two to go.

Hope is still alive...

Around 1:30am, I should be in bed, but at least I'm up to see Ortiz homer to right to win it for the Sox in the bottom of the 12th. Sweet!

Yankees still lead series, 3-1. Game 5 tonight at Fenway, Pedro starts.

Let's go, Red Sox!

Mailbag

Two (odd) things I got in the mail yesterday:

• A birthday card from my State representative. Boy, what a swell guy! He must be a really great friendState rep to have remembered; I should vote for him!

  Ok, so my State rep has a mailing list of his constituents and their birthdays. Seems an awful waste of time and money. And it skeeves me out just a little, as it reminds me that privacy has become a fairly tenuous concept at best these days, and really, is more like an imaginary curtain we draw across our eyes to make us feel better.

• Marketing propaganda from IBM's "Business Development Executives focused on sales in the Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender (GLBT) segment." (No really, that's what it says.)

  Again, two things:
  

  1. they have a special group that markets specifically to GLBT businesses? Because gay businesses only work with other gay businesses? Because IBM's regular business development group is too homophobic to conduct business effectively?
  2. why am I getting this? Ok, I know why I'm getting this. I'm getting this (and subscription offers to Out magazine --- not to be confused with Outside magazine) because with all the stupid discriminatory constitutional amendments flying around the state and the country, I've donated to several GLBT advocacy groups. But I guess it riles me that there's this idea that only gay people support gay causes. It reminds me of the junk mail I get that's written entirely in Chinese (usually for phone plans, I think -- I'm not entirely sure, I can never read them), presumably because I have a Chinese surname. Or the telemarketers that immediately start talking to me in Chinese, hoping to make that quick connection and quick sale. (Usually after I give them a perplexed "excuse me?" they hang up, occasionally after a brief apology. But usually not.)
  I suppose I understand the reasoning behind it, but for whatever reason, it just rubs me the wrong way.

Bad Kitty

Perhaps this is just a story about the difference between cats and dogs.

Dooce has an entry about Chuck, their first born (their dog). And when she writes about disciplining him when he behaves badly...

Things that go into the bathroom trashcan are by nature awful things with awful fluids and waxes on them, so having them regurgitated and strewn about the floor is by nature unpleasant and punishable by death. But we love Chuck and the most harm we ever do to him is bring him into the bathroom to the scene of the crime and shout NO! NO! NO! several times while hitting the toilet paper and tissue and used q-tips. Trust me, it?s more painful for us than it is for him.

...I can't help but recall my friend's cat, Guido.

Guido was a giant furball of a cat, who eventually grew so large and fat from the overindulgence of owners whose children have moved out of the house that he had to be reclassified as a small herd animal.

But when they first got him, he was a cute fluffy kitten that pretty much had the run of the house. And he was quite cute and adorable except for one minor problem -- he would occasionally not poop in the litterbox. (I'd like to think that Dooce would appreciate this post because I'm mentioning "poop," although it's about kitty poop and not people poop. And it should be noted that I'm not mentioning poop because I want to make Dooce happy, but because poop is, in fact, integral to the story. I'm actually having some fun with this. Can you tell?)

Anyway. Guido would sometimes not poop in the litterbox. And it wasn't like he just missed 'cause he was a kitten and just had his little kitty ass hanging out the wrong side of the box or something, he actually pooped smack in the middle of the bedroom (living room? I can't remember now -- it's been a long while -- but you get the idea), a room with wall-to-wall carpet. When they discovered that this had happened, my friend later recalled, they did what they thought you were supposed to do: they took Guido, brought him over to the mess, put his nose in it and gave a stern "NO!"

Sadly, this did not achieve the desired effect.

Unless the desired effect is to train your cat to be afraid of its own poop.

Apparently after this punishment/training (I'm not sure how many times they did it), Guido continued to poop on the carpet. The only difference being that after said pooping, he would immediately run in terror from the room and the punishment incurring substance.

So again, maybe it's cats and dogs. But I think one must always keep in mind, that it's not always about whether a message is received, but if you're sending the right message.

There's probably a point in there somewhere, but I honestly (HONESTLY) didn't try to make one. Which I suppose means I'm not even following my own advice.

too liberal?

I was listening to the radio again this morning (big mistake), and they were talking about the post-debate rhetoric and I heard W's voice telling a crowd:

"Kerry is too liberal for America."*

And that just pissed me right off.

Not that this is anything new, of course. And that would be both the part about me getting pissed off about things coming out of W's mouth and the part where Bush is demagoguing his opponent by painting him as an ultra-liberal, way outside of mainstream America.

I recognize that I live in Massachusetts (and despite my previous post, I do realize that we're most decidedly not a red state), but I don't really consider myself that liberal (I am the more conservative member of the household -- being perhaps ever so slightly more center than the SOOTTAD). But even so, when he says that Kerry is too liberal for America, it sure feels like he's saying that I'm too liberal for America, too.

Hello? We're all Americans, assholeMr. President. Or are you saying that I'm not part of America? That I don't belong here? That I don't count? That I don't matter?

Oh yeah, I forgot.

* ok, I could have sworn I heard those words coming out of W's mouth this morning on the radio, but at this point I can't find a quote, an audioclip or anything about it online, only references to 3rd party attack ads that say as much. If someone can tell me I'm not crazy, I'd certainly appreciate it.

Taxachusetts

An interesting article on Slate which discusses Bush's latest meme of calling out Kerry as being a über-liberal by constantly describing him as the liberal senator from the ultra-liberal state of Massachusetts. Tim Noah provides a few interesting insights:

Want to know something funny about Taxachusetts? For every dollar it pays Uncle Sam in taxes, it receives only 79* cents back in federal services and subsidies. That ranks it 44th among the 50 states in federal expenditures per dollar of taxes. Indeed, there's a very strong correlation between liberal, pro-government "blue states" and states that are least dependent on federal spending. There's also a strong correlation between conservative, anti-government "red states" and states that are most dependent on federal spending. (Click here for details.) If you think of Red America as stubbornly self-reliant and Blue America as a drain on the Treasury, you've got it exactly backwards.

the field, the zone, A.D.D., the zone and the field

I think there's some kind of productivity field around the office.

Not that magical safe-space kind of thing where everything is clicking and flowing and you're getting stuff done mad-crazy. No, it's not THE ZONE. I'm talking about an area, a "field" if you will, that just sucks every bit of productivity out of you, so that you're left as nothing but an empty shell of apathy and ennui.

And it feels like there's one at the office.

I've been having trouble focusing. I suspect that part of it is that I've probably got a little of the ADD. There was an ad on TV a few years ago that began with a woman sitting in a meeting, and then suddenly cut to these random images: a garden, babies crying, a car chase, hot naked chicks... Ok, fine. I don't really remember all the things that they showed, but you get the idea. Anyway, they cut back to the woman and she's being asked a question in the meeting that she clearly didn't hear. And I saw this ad on TV and I said to myself: Hey! That's me! (No really, I swear that's never happened to me before. Nope. uh uh. Not me, no sir'ee.) Of course, it could just be that I'm not particularly interested in what's going on at work, especially considering that I'm back working on the project from hell again. You know, the one that just won't die or go away. I mean, dying would probably be bad (this is a product that the company would like to sell, after all) but it keeps coming back and they keep sticking a bunch of us back onto it. Again. And really, it sucks.

It's past one o'clock and I'm having some trouble focusing as I try to sift through code and figure out what's going on with the current bug that's driving everybody crazy. Actually, I'm having trouble even looking at the code at this point, and instead I'm checking my inbox every 30 seconds or so, hoping someone has emailed me a 10-second distraction as I desperately try to fight to urge to surf the web. So I finally decide to take a break and go for a run. I need the exercise, and I really do think it helps get the blood flowing to my brain.

This doesn't always work, but today, it's good. I consciously try to nudge my brain in the direction of the bug, and am surprised to find that it doesn't put up much resistance. Things start to make a little more sense again and I'm finally able to take a step back and think about the underlying problem we're trying to figure out. I remember dependencies, interactions. A few concepts come together -- a get an idea or two, different ways to think about the problem. I'm in THE ZONE, baby!

Like I said, feeling good. The run itself actually kinda sucked (I was sucking wind for a lot of it) I just haven't been doing enough running recently, I think. But mentally, I felt refreshed. Recharged.

And with the building back in sight, all of a sudden I'm thinking about political arguments, how to partition up the functions of a poker odds calculator I want to write, something I wanted to look up on the web...

WTF?

I hit THE FIELD. And as I enter the building and make my way up the stairs to the office it just pushes all the productivity out of my body. When I get to my cube, I desperately try to scratch down some notes on my whiteboard before it's completely gone. By the time I'm showered and back at my desk, I'm right back where I started. Bah.

I think I need to seriously consider working from home...

Unexpected Wretched Excess

Binney PondAlthough I don't like to make a big deal about birthdays, I do like the idea of doing something meaningful for myself. Something a little different that, I dunno, lets me reset or reflect or something. So of late (that would be the last two years), I've taken a day off from work and gone on a hike. Last year we ended up doing a moonlight hike of Mt. Monadnock in New Hampshire. (It wasn't planned that way, but it worked out well enough. I got a flat that couldn't be plugged early that afternoon, so we ended up getting there at dusk -- but it was a known option when I decided on the hike.) This year I figured I'd go hike the Wapack trail that starts at the "base" of Mt. Watatic in Ashburnham and ends at North Pack "Mountain" in Southern New Hampshire. (Sorry, coming from California, I still am embarrassed to call some of the bumps out here "mountains.") I usually do this hike over Labor day weekend, but this year got filled with various events and activities, so I had to skip it.

I usually start out in the early afternoon from the parking lot off 119 in Ashburnham and do an out-and-back hike, turning around based on my best guess as to how much light I'll have left. I usually make it to somewhere around New Ipswich Mountain before heading back. I had hoped to get an earlier start this time, but the margaritas from the previous night (a birthday dinner for my friend JBar) had done a pretty good job on me, so I ended up getting to the trailhead around 1pm. Not really an issue -- I had already assumed that I'd be hiking back in the dark given the rapidly shortening days and had brought a few extra layers along with a headlamp and the best freakin' flashlight on the planet. (Saved our ass on the Monadnock hike when we accidentally got off-trail.) The plan was to try and get to Rt. 124 in New Hampshire, the first road-crossing the trail makes, if not Kidder Mountain. I figured it was a bit less than the halfway point of a 21-mile trail, so guesstimated it to be about 10 miles out. I didn't really think much beyond that. I thought it would be cool to have a tangible goal and set off for the trail.

It was a beautiful day, and it was good to be outside. I'm glad the weather held out, since there had been forecasts of clouds and possible rain that night or the next day. (it ended up holding off the entire weekend)

It being a weekday, I only ran into four or five groups of people:

• A young couple and their dog sitting at the summit of Mt. Watatic...
• followed by two women and five fair-haired children just as I was heading back onto the trail
• A middle-aged couple in a beat-up blue Ford pickup with NH plates, the bed full of wood and a gas-powered chainsaw. Between the MA/NH border and the Binney Pond area there's a section of access roads, so it's not totally crazy to see a vehicle on the "trail," but it's the first time I've ever seen one. I think they were gathering firewood. It's New Hampshire -- Live Free or Die country. We made a little chit-chat about the Wapack trail as I passed, and I went on my way.
• As I neared Binney Pond, I noticed another blue truck, this time with MA plates, parked on the side of the road, a CD collection of baby tunes on the passenger seat catching my eye as I passed. Sure enough, as I started walking along the pond, I could hear the shouting of small children, eventually catching up to, and passing, a guy with a goatee and wraparound sunglasses with mirrored lenses, holding the hands of (presumably) his two daughters, each with matching backpacks. It really was adorable.
• Another middle-aged couple, the woman wearing a semi-dressy white top and capri pants, the man, in jeans and a navy blue shirt, smoking a cigar, backpack slung over his shoulder with a loaf of french bread sticking out the top.

By the time I made it to 124, I was just about ready to give up and head back. The timing worked out pretty well since the continuation of the trail wasn't immediately obvious to me. (Incidentally, the area around 124 is actually a cross-country ski and snowshoe area -- all the extra signage was a bit confusing until I figured that out.)

I was already pretty tired at that point, so I took a short break (taking the time to find a trail map from the ski area), and then started on my way back. That was probably around 5pm. It was around that time that a few things started to concern me. Sure, it was getting a bit late, but that was expected. (There were certainly a few moments where I had to get the Blair Witch Project out of my head. Annoying.) But my feet had started to hurt. And there was that sign I saw as I made my way down to 124.

< What was that, again? About half of the 21-mile trail... 10 miles... 8.6 miles to 119...

Aw crap! I just brain-farted my way onto a 18-mile hike!

At first, I figured I'd be alright. Sure, my left heel was rubbing uncomfortably in my sweat-soaked socks and the laces on my right boot felt like they were starting to crush bone, but it's just a walk. A long walk, but a walk nonetheless. What's the big deal?

Well, the light-hiker socks and the light-weight boots to start. I think the light-hike ended about 3-4 miles ago.

I took a short break on New Ipswich to take in the sunset. I probably would have stopped to eat except for the mosquitoes that would have joined me. I tried to adjust my stride, hold my feet up with my shoulders, use my momentum to get one foot in front of the other, just concentrating on getting back to the car. It was the strangest feeling to have to struggle just to take one step after another.

7:40pm and I'm in the car, chowing down on cheese and pepperoni and triscuits. I actually leave the parking lot at 8pm and catch Ortiz's game winning homerun in the bottom of the 10th on the radio.

I'll be home in an hour.

Postscript: after cleaning up, we grab some dinner downtown. I'm craving noodles so we hit a Korean restaurant in Chinatown and I get jambong -- a spicy seafood noodle soup. Tasty. But having not eaten anything substantial all day, I end up feeling totally stuffed and bloated, and am unable to fall asleep until way late. Oy.