CalTex Something Or Other Blog

Feline times five - Part 4

2011-11-02T22:35:00.000-07:00

So the saga of Cali and her four rambunctious kittens continued. Cali herself was fitting in nicely with the rest of the household, and had particularly bonded with Merlin, another stray my wife had brought over from her previous home. The kittens were well on their way to being socialized, and were growing up to be very active and sassy. There were times I was afraid I'd open the door to the guest room and find a smoking crater where it once was with these innocent looking furry faces looking at me with an, "I don't know what happened" expression.

The plan was to get them spayed and neutered, then try to find good homes for them. What's that phrase, "The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men, Gang aft agley" which loosely translated means, "What can go wrong will go wrong." Step one was waiting until the youngsters were old enough to be snipped. Since they were rapidly outgrowing the guest room, we moved them to the exercise room which is considerably larger. I then decided to take advantage of AAR's low cost vaccinations and get them in for their shots. I decided to take two at a time, so first up was the female and one of the gingers. By this time, the kittens were starting to get names. The female was Abby, and the ginger on his way to AAR was Rajah.

I got them into carriers and carted them off. At AAR, I first took out Rajah's carrier. This is a hard sided carrier with a metal barred door, which promptly popped open due to a before unnoticed defective latch. Rajah took off like a shot across the parking lot, and I had a sick feeling he'd never be seen again and would meet a horrible fate. I left Abby in the car, then took off to see if by some miracle Rajah could be found. Fortunately, for some reason he was trying to burrow under the chain link fence to the section where AAR kept their animals. I was able to grab him, and pull him out, then got him back in the carrier, and this time I got the latch to stay put. Of course this was after in his frantic state his claws had removed impressive amounts of skin from my arms.

A couple months passed, the kittens kept playing and growing, though fortunately it looked like they would be petite like their mom. The idea of four more behemoths like Merlin was not attractive considering the food bill alone would require robbing a bank at least once a month. I then was concerned since Cali got pregnant at such a young age, Abby could be next if one of her brothers started physically maturing also at a young age. So I took her in to be spayed.

Another month, then the next fateful day. The boys were to be snipped. By this time all had names. The second ginger became Rusty, and since the black and white was the entertaining clown of the group, he was christened Jester. I gathered them up, got them into carriers with doors that I made sure latched, and carted them off to AAR. Several hours later, I retrieved three groggy kittens who were wondering why they were meowing in soprano.

By this time, efforts to adopt them out were not working. No neighbors or friends could take them, and an ad in an online pet adoption service only received a reply from a buncher. These are people who buy animals, or take those who are "free to good homes," then turn around and sell them to labs for testing. I was sorely tempted to arrange a meeting with this person, then call on my martial arts training to show him the errors of his ways.

So the perpetual question of what to do with them all was answering itself. We would have to resign ourselves to having twelve cats. After the boys had recovered from neutering, I opened the door to the exercise room, and let them make tentative peeks outside. Finally they got bold and left to explore, led as usual by Jester. Cali wasn't sure what to make of this, since she probably thought her job raising them was done. As for the older cats? They gave the youngsters sniffs, then meandered off to eat and nap.

As time passed, fears of the youngsters being disruptive turned out to be the exact opposite. Probably because they only had each other for company for three months, and were spayed and neutered before adult behavior kicked in, they continued to get along perfectly. They slept together, romped together, and never hissed or spit. Household peace and quiet was another matter. You could almost set your watch, and place your bets, every morning at 7 and 11 AM on the races between Jester, Rajah and Rusty. They would tear the length of the house, and sometimes literally bounced off walls to change direction. The much more lethargic older cats would look up, wonder what had gotten into the youngsters, and hope they would stop soon so the elders could go back to sleep.

Now, a year later, we've decided it was Fate that Cali and her kittens came into our lives. They are constantly entertaining, and they have had a mellowing effect on their elders, who had been prone to nasty fights on occasion. Plus they are very affectionate, and seem grateful for the chance they were given. As Sam Gamgee's dad said in The Lord Of The Rings, "All's well that ends better."

Feline times Five - Part 3

2011-11-01T23:14:00.000-07:00

So the good news is Cali and her brood were indoors safe and sound. This was my first experience with ferals, but fortunately the good folks at Tomball AAR and another rescue group, Tomball Save Our Strays, (TSOS), were invaluable with sound advice. The most important was to try to socialize everyone for potential adoption. Isolating them from the rest of our cats, (who surprisingly showed little interest beyond cursory sniffs at the door to the guest room then sauntering off in disinterest), was the first step. Next was getting Cali spayed. All of our other cats had been spayed and neutered, so there wasn't any danger of her having another litter. However, spaying does have benefits with a cat's behavior such as making them calmer and there are many health benefits.

This did mean removing Cali from her kittens. Since they were about twelve weeks old and weaned, they were old enough to be on their own. So I took her to the workout room, and set it up so she'd be comfortable. I did feel bad, because she had been starting to trust us, then all of a sudden was trapped in the crate, then a couple days later taken away from her babies. But she had to be isolated since she was still producing milk, and couldn't be spayed until her supply dried up. That would take a week, during which we spent as much time with her as possible. After a while she started showing more affection, so the trust was starting to come back.

In the meantime, we bought a tall kitty condo for the kittens. They sniffed around it, then quickly started climbing all over. The black and white one was the most active, and soon lead the others in high dives from the top of the condo to the bed in the guest room. I swear I heard him going, "Banzai!" several times. As for socializing the kittens, I was told the best way was to spend time with them, but don't approach them. When they were ready, they would approach. So I would sit against a wall watching them watching me. I would hold a hand out, which would get tentative sniffs, but they still stayed out of reach.

What broke the ice were shoelaces. We had determined we had three males and one female. The female was the first to be curious about my shoelaces. Finally, she grabbed the end of one in her mouth and started tugging. After a couple days, the others also thought this was great fun. At one point I had a kitten pulling on each shoelace end in different directions. While they were doing this, I would hold pieces of tuna out, which after some wary sniffs, they started accepting. From there, they started accepting head scratches, and within a week started purring while starting to rub up against us.

In the meantime, Cali was spayed, and after a few days to recover, we decided to introduce her to the other cats in the household. This was done by simply leaving the door to the workout room open. Still the older cats pretty much ignored her, with one exception. Merlin, who had been a stray himself, sauntered in. It was interesting watching the interaction between him and Cali. Despite being a mom, Cali rolled over in a submissive position, while Merlin would growl and hiss. That actually established their relationship, and afterward the two became inseparable. It was something seeing them together because of the size difference. Cali is a petite eight pounder, while Merlin is a hulking twenty-five pounds at least.

Poor Merlin had been pretty much ignored by the other cats, so it was heartwarming he finally had a companion. So at least things were going well with Cali, and the decision was made to keep her.

As for the kittens, the hope was still to foster them for adoption, but Fate had something else in mind.

To be continued...

Feline times five - Part 2

2011-10-31T19:51:00.000-07:00

Cali and her kittens wasted little time adapting to their expanded territory. My wife saw them early every morning gathered around the back door waiting for breakfast, then during the day they either roamed the back yard, or napped in the thicket. Cali was very attentive and watched the youngins like a hawk. And speaking of hawks, that was a concern since large red tail hawks patrolled the area, and in the back yard the kittens were much more exposed. But fortunately they stayed safe.

Unfortunately, there was the major issue, what to do with the feline newcomers? The kittens were wary of people, and kept their distance though over the course of a couple of weeks they let us get to within a couple of feet before scurrying off. Cali also didn't lose her hunting instincts, despite a steady source of food on the back porch. I still found piles of feathers scattered throughout the yard, and you know she was starting to teach the babies how to hunt.

One other problem, is other critters were finding the food we left out tempting. Raccoons were the worst. I often looked out late at night and saw one or more cleaning out the food bowls. At least they never bothered the kittens or Cali. The babies especially enjoyed the yard and made it their playground. But they couldn't stay forever, and being feral, they would in a few months be old enough to reproduce on their own. And that would create a nightmare.

So the question of what to do with them had to be resolved, and soon. I called Tomball Abandoned Animal Rescue (AAR), a no kill shelter in town, for advice. They said they might be able to lend a trap or two, but they were full and even if the feline brood could be caught, they didn't have room. So my wife and I decided to try and trap them by some means, then keep them in a spare room and foster them for adoption.

That left one little problem... trapping a wary mom and four rambunctious kittens. AAR came through with some even better advice. I was told to get a large dog crate, place it on the porch, then cover it with towels and blankets so it wouldn't look so menacing, then finally bait it with tuna.

Great theory... but the reality... well, it actually worked. I waited until night when all of them were frolicking around, then set the trap. Fortunately, they made a beeline to the saucers of tuna. All except for one, who crouched down a few feet away unsure of what to do. So the choice was to wait and hope the straggler would go in before the others finished and wandered out, trap the four already inside and hope the last one wasn't so panicked on seeing her mom and siblings trapped she took off and was never seen again, or hope another night would work out. Well, the last kitten finally dashed in. I dashed myself to the crate, slammed the door shut and latched it, and waited while everyone inside completely freaked out. They were literally running around like hamsters on a wheel around the sides and top of the crate. But finally they settled down, and I called my wife to help me move the crate inside.

The great Texas Cat Wrangle was over.

But then came once again... now what? The crate was too large to fit around the corner to the exercise room where we originally wanted to keep everyone, so the guest room was sacrificed for the common good. We removed all the furniture except for the bed, which was covered in a thick shower curtain and an old comforter. A litter box was set up along with food and water. Then I opened the door to the crate, and left to let them adjust. All were crouched down quietly in the crate, no doubt wondering what had happened.

At least they were safely indoors. But the question remained... what to do with them?

To be continued...

Feline times five - Part1

2011-10-27T19:18:00.000-07:00

We have cats in the house. Lots of cats. Seven to be precise, all part of a package deal when I re-married four years ago. For the most part they are pretty mellow, though there have been times of flying fur when for no apparent reason a couple would get into it. Seven is considered to be plenty of cats. Fortunately the house is fairly large so it doesn't feel overrun by them. Still, it was a major decision to add even more last Summer.

The circumstances were quite unexpected. The process we went through was educational, stressful at times, but in the end very rewarding for all. It began one afternoon when my wife noticed a scraggly mostly white cat, no more than a half grown kitten, wandering in the backyard. Since one of our pleasures is making the backyard a habitat for birds, the last thing we wanted was a feral stray thinking it had just stumbled on a buffet with feathers. So we chased it out, while hoping it belonged to someone down the road and would amble back to where it came from.

No such luck. The cat returned a day later and was chased out again. On its third appearance, I felt it was either feral, lost, or abandoned, and took pity on it. So I left out some food and water on the back porch, which the cat consumed with vigor. I figured if it knew food was available, it would leave the birds alone. This went on for several days, and it soon became apparent the cat was not afraid of people. This ended the idea it was feral, and was more likely either lost or abandoned.

I contacted a local animal rescue group, and first found out the cat was a Dilute Calico. It was mostly white, with Calico markings on its head, feet and tail. I posted an ad on the Internet about a lost cat, but no one replied. By this time the cat was getting friendlier, and started rubbing against the legs of whoever was providing food. We also determined it was female, and starting calling her Cali, short for Calico. Yeah, I know, not too original. I figured when she wasn't in our yard, or resting under a lawn chair on the porch, she was staying in a thicket next door. But despite all the food, she was still painfully thin. The reason became apparent a couple weeks later.

I was out back, and spotted to the side of the house three kittens, one ginger, one tabby and one black and white. They were hanging around the air conditioner, but scattered under the fence to get to the thicket when I approached. The reason they were by the ac unit was a partially consumed bird had been stashed there. I guessed the kittens were no more than seven weeks old and not old enough to be hunting. But where was the mother? Cali looked way too young.

Before going back into the house, I glanced at the gate, and saw the black and white had lodged himself underneath. I helped him out, and he ran towards the thicket, then stopped and flattened himself on the ground. But despite being feral, he still let me pick him up and pet him for a few seconds. However, there was another issue. Cali on her own was ok, and we were thinking of making her an outside cat. But the kittens were another matter. I called my wife at work and said, "We have a problem."

A couple days later, I looked into the thicket, and found another problem, and an answer for who the mother cat was. The problem was a second ginger kitten, so now they were up to four. As to the mother? Two of the kittens were being nursed by Cali. She was the equivalent of a teen mom, tossed out by her owner to fend for herself and raise the kittens. That explained her thinness, since anything she ate was being used to provide milk for the kittens. However, it was also clear that the kittens were being weaned. Unfortunately, Cali's idea of solid food for them was still birds.

Fortunately for the bird population of Tomball, that was about to change. For another week, while Cali spent a lot of time in our yard, the kittens stayed in the thicket. It was ideal habitat since the brush and scrub trees were so close together predators such as coyotes would have a rough time getting in, and hawks and owls would not see anything. Plus the landscapers in the neighborhood had piled up trimmed tree branches over a depression in the ground so it made a den big enough for all the cats.

One afternoon, after I set some food out for Cali, she faced the thicket and made this chirping sound. A minute later, this furry train of the four kittens came under the fence and made a beeline to the porch. We promptly got more food dishes out, and the kittens had a feast. So all were being provided for, but the big problem remained, what to do with all of them as a permanent solution?

See part two for that gripping tale.

The other woman in my life

2011-10-26T19:53:00.000-07:00

Yes, another woman has come into my life. She has a soft voice, but she nags constantly. Yet I don't mind because without her I would not have any direction. As in literally no direction. But the best part is my lovely wife approves of this relationship. Now if anyone is expecting titillating details, I'm afraid they are in for a disappointment, as the story isn't as sordid as today's title indicates.

It all began back in April, when we accepted an invitation to a wedding in Whitehall, Michigan. Whitehall is a lovely resort town on the shore of Lake Michigan, with one drawback. It isn't the easiest place to get to. After going over our travel options, we decided to fly into Chicago O'hare, then rent a car for a pleasant four hour drive to Whitehall. As with most travel plans, the reality was completely different. The flight was fine, the drive was another matter.

We rented a shiny new Toyota Corolla, but despite my careful perusing Google Maps ahead of time for the best route to Whitehall, a type of sixth sense made me splurge for a Garmin GPS unit in the car. I should say that I have absolutely no sense of direction, and unless I have detailed maps that I've memorized, heaven knows where I'll end up. And I have had issues with Google Maps in the past. So for renting the Garmin unit...

Best. Decision. Ever.

The default voice for the Garmin was Jill. It was easy to program in the address of the hotel we would be staying at, and I figured since it was noon, that traffic getting out of Chicago would be fairly light.

Worst. Assumption. Ever.

It's a fairly short drive from O'Hare to the freeway, and from there about a 30 mile drive to get out of town. Unfortunately, Chicago is determined to be the traffic jam nightmare of the known universe. The traffic was at a near standstill for no apparent reason except for way too many vehicles and way too little road surface. I wasn't sure if there were other reasons, such as a wreck up ahead, the entire city having an early start on getting out of town for the weekend, or more folks had been invited to the wedding we were going to than we thought and all lived in Chicago.

Fortunately the weather was clear and mild, though a torrential thunderstorm wouldn't have made any difference. After guiding me to the freeway, Jill was silent until saying, "Keep left." I didn't pay attention until realizing my lane was about to split off to a different freeway, and I had to get over a couple of lanes. I'm usually as calm in heavy traffic as someone trying to defuse a bomb while blindfolded, so I put on the blinkers, and eased over while hoping whoever was next to me would take pity and let me in front.

Finally after a couple of tense hours, we were out of Chicago, and after discovering the car actually had more gears than just first, finally picked up speed and were on our way. After getting to Whitehall, Jill really proved her worth. Whitehall is a lovely town, but for navigation the assumption is you are a native and can ignore the almost complete lack of details like street signs. Google maps would have been completely useless because of this, so Ms. Garmin was allowed to take complete control of my life. And yes, with my wife's approval, though there were times we doubted her sanity.

We would be directed down roads for what appeared to be no other reason than Jill just wanting to be on that road. At one point, my wife said, "She's crazy!" I did have some apprehension that we had rented an insane GPS unit from a Stephen King novel and were being led to our doom. But we learned patience, and Jill always got us exactly where we wanted to go.

Unfortunately, no technology could do anything about the horrendous traffic once again, in the middle of the day, when we returned to Chicago. Nor do anything about my nerves of wet noodles in said traffic. But on the flight home, we decided to get a Garmin unit of our own. We first used her, (I still selected the Jill voice), on a trip to San Antonio, which has a street pattern best described as Chaos Theory. Which meant I often heard her saying, "Recalculating," when I missed a turn. But in the end she was always right. After all, she is a woman.

Planes and Things

2011-10-23T21:33:00.000-07:00

After neglecting this blog for way too long, I thought I'd start back up with one of my favorite subjects, airplanes. Last weekend I ventured to the Wings Over Houston airshow at Ellington Field south of Houston. This was y third show, and as always it was a treat. The main sponsor, as before, is the Commemorative Air Force, though I still prefer their previous wonderfully politically incorrect name, the Confederate Air Force. This group of volunteers is passionate about locating and restoring old planes, mostly from WWII. Since they are based in Texas, Wings Over Houston is an ideal place to show off the results of their efforts.

In addition to restoring planes, they have modified existing aircraft, mostly the North American T-6 trainer from the mid 1930's, to resemble aircraft that no longer exist or if so, cannot be restored to flying condition. These are usually Japanese aircraft from the war, and many of these modifications have been used in movies. For the airshow, these and restored American planes from that era are used in a spectacular flyby. To add the drama, this airshow has pyrotechnics, so a recreation of the attack on Pearl Harbor is accompanied by some pretty spectacular explosions in the field next to the runway.

What really made this show special was the flight demo of the only flyable B-29 bomber in the world. Since this is the plane my dad flew in during the war, that made the demo even more special. I know if he could have been there to see it he would not have been able to contain his emotions.

After the B-29 landed, I got up for a closer look. Amazing how a 70 year old design can still look impressive. For a small fortune, it's possible to arrange a flight in it. I had this vision of Dad making that arrangement, then taking over the controls and muttering, "This thing had better have a full load of bombs because I have some old scores to settle."

The show wrapped up with a military demonstration team. Unlike the last two years, neither the Thunderbirds or Blue Angels were available, so this time it was the Canadian Air Force Snowbirds. Any attempt to refer to them as the Flying Caribous would probably have not been appreciated.

Anyway, they put on a good show with very precise maneuvers. They use ten planes, so that is a lot of coordination. The only downside is the plane in question is the ancient CT-114 Tutor, a trainer that entered service in 1961, and with the exception of the Snowbirds, is no longer being flown. Since it is an indigenous Canadian design, I suppose it is a matter of national pride that the Snowbirds keep using it, but it is not designed for high speed flight. This somewhat limits what the team could do. But still, they were a delight to watch.

The only downside was the return drive, which should have taken an hour, took three because of road construction. Since I drive an ancient car with a stick shift, the stop and go traffic was sheer torture. I should be getting some feeling back in my clutch foot any day now.

Mom

2011-05-27T11:56:00.000-07:00

It was a year ago that my Mom passed away peacefully. Like my Dad, she was at least at home, and also like him, the end came with her still functioning well physically and mentally. For the last 29 years of her life she lived in her home state of Indiana. I visited numerous times, and at first it was strange because I had always associated the place my parents called home with the house I grew up in back in California. But I soon grew to like the house, especially after my parents added their personal touches.

For Mom that meant keeping the place tidy, while for Dad it meant practically rebuilding it. Dad was a do it yourself type, and loved any projects that involved his hands. Plumbing, electrical, woodworking, painting, auto repair, it didn't matter, he could do it all. Though in the case of the house, (which is old), he often wondered what he had gotten himself into.

Mom was more than happy to leave home projects like that to Dad, especially when something wasn't going quite right and he had to be creative with swearing in case either myself or my siblings were around. But she was a workaholic in many ways. She worked for much of her adult life, including almost her entire time in Indiana at the local hospital. She didn't retire until she was 82.

Her heart issues kept her from having the energy she wanted, but that didn't slow her down. A family joke was at her services, her ghost would first vacuum and dust the church, scold any of her children if they were slouching in their seats, and then tell everyone her favorite pet stories.

She loved animals, and two were among the joys of her life. When I was in high school, after finally outgrowing the boyhood pets of assorted turtles, fish, lizards and an undetermined species or two, (none of which lasted more than a few years), I pestered Mom about getting a dog. She wasn't too keen on the idea, but I persisted and one day answered an ad in the paper about six mixed breed puppies. I picked out the shyest one, who won Mom over and became the legendary Ruffles.

Mom spoiled that dog rotten, but was rewarded with unconditional love and affection. When Ruffles finally passed on, Mom was inconsolable and never stopped talking about her. Then came her second special pet, a little feral kitten named Pixie. Pixie quickly learned how to wrap Mom around her little paw and found out in return just how good Ruffles had it. Whenever Mom and I talked on the phone the conversation always included Pixie's latest adventures. Considering she is pretty rambunctious, there was always an adventure.

Mom would always ask about our cats, even though she never met them. I know she would have called weekly, if not more often, to hear the latest about the stray cat and kittens that ventured into the yard, and ended up being adopted, (details in a blog post to come).

I'll always miss Mom, but there is the comfort that she is reunited with Dad, and her family members who went before her. And I'm sure Ruffles was at heaven's gate to greet her, though hopefully not with supper dish in her mouth as the dog did have a hearty appetite.

It's Been How Long?

2011-05-01T22:32:00.000-07:00

Can't believe it's been almost a year since I've posted. Much has happened in the meantime, the most important being the loss of my Mom last year. Of course I will have a post on that. There have been much happier events to share, such as the unexpected arrival of an abandoned cat and her four kittens we ended up adopting.

More to come...

Miscellaneous Ramblings On A Sunday Evening

2010-05-23T20:58:00.000-07:00

I'm winding down a pleasant weekend that started Friday with finally closing on a refinance of my mortgage. I wanted to take advantage of the lower interest rates, and since I went through the original lender, it should have been a breeze. Well, that was the theory. The reality is the bank was pretty dysfunctional in the last couple of weeks. It's a good thing I'm officially retired, though I do have a home based business, and am almost completely flexible with my time. The reason is that the closing was rescheduled four different times. If I had been still commuting to work, that would have meant taking time off four different times. And that would not have made me happy.

But in the end it worked out, and starting in July I'll see a lower payment by close to $100 a month. Until I'm 85. No, really, I'll be paying for that long. But that's my choice. I planned well ahead for my retirement so I could afford to actually do so, meaning I'm not worried about losing my home in the future. One thing I insisted on was a 30 year fixed rate, the only type of loan that should exist. ARM's, interest only loans, etc. should be banned. Those have and still do sucker in those who have no business being home owners and within a few years find themselves without that home and hideously in debt, should have their fingernails ripped out one by one.

But that was Friday. Saturday and Sunday were pleasant days spending quality time with horses, sipping wine on that back porch after sunset while being serenaded by the sounds of the night, gardening and of course preparing yet another masterpiece of a barbecue.

At the same time I was following more news stories on the horrendous oil spill in the Gulf. This thing is a total fiasco besides being a potential environmental catastrophe. The fiasco part comes in two flavors. First, it's obvious there was no contingency plan on anyone's part, British Petroleum, Transocean, or Haliburton, should anything like this happen. Oil platforms by their nature are hazardous and every safety precaution has to be made to keep tragic accidents like this one from taking place. Still, conditions can arise that will lead to that accident. (And as an aside to that blithering idiot Rand Paul, just dismissing it as an accident with no accountability only proves he's as much of a moron as his father).

However, there should have been redundant shut off valves in the pipeline so if one was damaged another could be used. And if oil was spilled, have a fleet of ships with containment gear on standby. It's ok if these ships are employed in other tasks when there isn't a spill, that just makes economic sense, but they should be considered as the National Guard, be ready for action when necessary.

Then there's the controversy of using the dispersant Corexit. Basically this is a chemical that breaks down the oil so that bacteria in the water can more easily consume the oil. It works fairly well, but the toxic aftereffects aren't completely known. There are other, less toxic and more effective dispersants on the market, however, BP apparently has a rather cozy relationship with the manufacturer of Corexit.

And of the government's response? Wow, a Presidential commission! We're saved! They'll just bluster and talk all that oil into slinking back into the blown out well. Or how about the EPA all of a sudden getting concerned about Corexit, (which they approved use of some years ago), and asking BP to use an alternative? In other words, the Federal government is doing its usual proverbial closing the barn door after the cows have escaped. Again, no planning ahead of time, no oversight on safety on the drilling platforms, then when a crisis hits the government does what it does best, go into complete panic mode with everyone running around trying to act and sound important.

So what should be done? First duct tape the mouths of every lawyer, government official and BP executive. Second, plug the well. Third, clean up the spilled oil by any means possible, (and use an alternative to Corexit). Fourth, come up with a contingency plan in case of future incidents like this. If offshore drilling is going to be permitted in deep waters, then the excuse, "We have no idea what to do if things go wrong at this depth", just isn't going to fly.

Frogs Getting Fruity

2010-05-16T21:41:00.000-07:00

No, that isn't the title of a kinky porno film. One of the pleasures of living in this part of Texas is the rich and varied plant and animal life. At night you often get a chorus of critters; crickets, cicadas, the occasional owl and coyote, and then there's the frogs. Our back porch was frequently visited by a tree frog last summer that of course we named Kermit. As far as I know there were a number of Kermits, but seeing as how frogs don't wear name tags, I preferred the thought that one frog thought my porch was a special place.

Since there are empty lots on either side of the house, plus a flood control ditch outside the sound wall, there is ample space for critter habitats. Whenever it rains, the more aquatic types, such as frogs, make a beeline for any newly formed bodies of water. Well, last Friday we had a whopper of a storm that left at least a couple inches of badly needed rain behind. For the frogs, it was as if they had suddenly ingested massive amounts of espresso. They were so bursting with energy they decided to express their joy in song.

When my wife and I sat on the porch last night, we were deafened by serenading frogs. I could distinguish at least four distinct sounds, which I assumed came from four different species. Considering it is still Spring, (despite heat and humidity the last few days that are more indicative of August), it is probably safe to assume most of the frogs were looking for mates. The exception was one who made the rounds of the porch. It wasn't Kermit, though. I'm not sure what species it was, but apparently it was more interested in finding food than making tadpoles.

But his mates were sowing their wild oats. At times the sounds seemed like they had reached a crescendo, so it was easy imagining a group of frogs enjoying the happy ending. That's ok, since the cycle of nature dictates a species must reproduce to survive.

However, I will be thrilled if they can show as much enthusiasm in controlling the population explosion of bugs also brought out by the rain.

Blowing In The Wind

2010-05-12T20:56:00.001-07:00

June 1 is the start of a season I once followed out of curiosity, the Atlantic Hurricane Season. I would follow the storm tracks, play the guessing game of where they would go, and at the same time pray any harm would be minimal. It was an interesting exercise, especially since I was doing it from California, which has never been visited by a hurricane. Which is why there are earthquakes as compensation.

Shortly before moving to the Houston area, hurricanes became personal. This started with Rita in 2005, that came way too close to where my wife was living at the time for comfort. Then in 2008, Ike made me realize I was about to trade my paranoia of earthquakes for the paranoia of hurricanes. It broadsided Galveston, (still the absolute worst place to build a city. Really now, sitting on a somewhat glorified sandbar that has no protection from tropical storms). By the time it reached my new house, (I had just mailed off the first mortgage payment), it had lost some of its punch. But it was such a massive storm it took a long time to pass through the area. That persistence, plus sustained high gale force winds, knocked down many trees in the area. We were lucky none of the ones near the house toppled over.

The house survived without a scratch, though before buying it, I don't remember anyone saying an actual demonstration of how it met the new Texas wind resistance standards would be part of the sales presentation. Still the power was out for almost a week after.

So what will I do if another one looks like it's getting close? Besides run around screaming in panic you mean? I have done some stocking up on water, (though more will be needed), batteries, non perishable food items, and an item lacking from last time, an ordinary plug in land line phone. During Ike I was out of state on business, and my wife had several digital phones in the house. Which meant when the power went out, so did they. She was able to call on her cell phone to let me know everything was ok. However, the car charger for her cell wasn't working so she had to conserve the phone's battery. Actually, the charger was fine, it was the outlet in the car that was on the fritz.

The predictions for this year are a more active than usual season. Oh joy. But with all weather predictions beyond say five days out, these predictions need to be taken with many large grains of salt. For most people, even one storm is one too many if it is parked in their neighborhood. At least there is one truth about hurricanes vs. earthquakes, with hurricanes you do get some warning, forget it with earthquakes.

Going Buggy

2010-05-08T22:01:00.000-07:00

With the weather warming up the most interesting wildlife around the house has come out of its Winter dormancy. The Houston area has four seasons, Winter, (which is usually between noon and 15 minutes later on January 3, a day later in El Nino years), Almost Summer, So Gawdawful Miserable The Devil Himself Would Flee Houston For Hades To Escape The Heat, and finally, Still Summer. We're in Almost Summer now. The other evening I decided to mow the grass, and discovered when the heat and humidity have picked up that the evenness of the grass after cutting takes second place to the shortest distance necessary for the mower to do the job. There's also the little factor that the size of my lawn increases with the temperature. What was a couple months ago a respectably sized lot has grown to cover at least three timezones.

But back to the wildlife. My wife and I enjoy sitting on the back porch in the evening, (with the ceiling fans going with vigor, I had wondered why the porch even came with ceiling fans until last summer, then discovered they make a huge difference in making the porch habitable in Summer). Anyway, we often have visitors of the multi-legged kind. The furry types, (raccoons, possums, skunks, usually trundle along the back wall far from the porch, and in the case of the skunks that is a good thing). The insect type prefer the porch itself.

In true Texas fashion, most of these insects are big. Really big. As in able to fly off with small children and Smart cars. My favorites are:

Walking Limb: In most places these would be Walking Sticks, critters with long, thin bodies that can be mistaken as twigs when they are standing still. Which is the intent. I saw one that was at least four inches long and could have been used to play fetch if I had a dog.

UFO Detector: I just saw this the other night. This is a rather large beetle with antenna many times the length of its body. I figure with antenna that size it can pick up FM stations in at least 38 states, monitor SETI, and provide air traffic control for Bush International Airport.

Suicide Beetles: These are brown beetles at least an inch long, that buzz with enough racket to drown out a chainsaw, then fly erratically, often colliding with nearby objects, usually my head, with enough force to leave a dent. You can tell old time Texans because x-rays of their skull reveal a surface marked like a golf ball. When the beetles hit the ground, they usually flip over on their backs, waving their legs feebly in the air. If flipped back over, they will walk a few inches, then often flip back on their backs and kick the bucket. Evolution had a sense of humor when these critters emerged.

Shelob: Lord of the Rings fans are familiar with the giant spider that thinks hobbits are a tasty treat. The inspiration for this creature must have come from seeing the spiders around here. When I go out back I usually am armed with a flamethrower in case I encounter one. That may sound a bit extreme, but a shotgun only makes them mad.

Return To California

2010-03-10T18:45:00.000-08:00

No, I haven't moved back from Texas. I went back last week to attend my aunt's services. She was a warm hearted woman who led a quiet life. She never married, though she was engaged to a soldier who died as a prisoner of war during the second world war. She kept her engagement ring in a lock box, and his photo was always on her nightstand. So it was decided that these be placed in her casket. That was very touching gesture and one she would have appreciated.

I spent a lot of time with my family still in the Bay Area, my two younger brothers and my youngest brother's wife. They were my aunt's primary caretakers during her last year and a half of life and deserve all the credit possible for sacrificing so much time and effort in doing so.

The services themselves were quiet and dignified. The priest who said the Mass remembered me, even though I was only in high school when we last met. I hoped the remembrance wasn't for something dumb I did as his altar boy some Sunday.

I took an extra day before heading back home and went into San Francisco. That was an odd experience because even though I spent fifty years living in the Bay Area, I did not feel that comfortable being there. This was probably because I no longer had any roots, such as a home, in that region. Plus my last few years there were not very pleasant.

Also some of my favorite stomping grounds no longer existed. I had spent countless hours browsing Stacey's Books on Market Street. They had an amazing collection of just about everything in print. Plus they had guest authors every week. That was how I got to meet my two favorites, Clive Cussler and Scott Adams. But sadly it closed last year. Also closed since I've left is Virgin Records. Again this was a place that had everything, music, videos, books, the works. Two other favorite haunts had closed just before I moved to Texas, Scenario Games in Fremont and San Antonio Hobbies in Mountain View. They were incredible hobby shops where again I spent many hours, (and dollars).

I did take a stroll through Chinatown, and was pleased it had not changed. Back to downtown San Francisco, I also noticed some other things had not changed, starting with the complete lack of manners. I like how in Texas total strangers will acknowledge your existence and say hello when you pass them on the street or in a parking lot. In San Francisco they act like you are an intrusion on their personal space, will rarely greet you, and if walking towards you make little to no effort to move aside so you don't run into them. It was that type of attitude I was glad to leave behind.

I stopped by my old office and that was an interesting experience. A lot of people were genuinely glad to see me and engaged in chitchat about what had happened since I left. Basically, not much had changed. Unfortunately I briefly saw my ex landlady, she greeted me with her usual phony smile and cheerful voice. I just grunted something in reply and kept on walking.

One friend asked if I wanted to come back to work. I think my emphatic, "Hell No!" was an appropriate response. I had a very enjoyable talk with my old supervisor. She said once again she never really did understand exactly what it was I did, but I didn't cause her any problems so I must have been doing a good job. All in all, it was a good visit to the office, though strange as in the feeling that I really didn't belong there.

Driving in the Bay Area again was another experience. I noticed drivers were going much closer to the speed limit instead of the "pedal to the metal look at me I'm an arrogant jerk driving like an idiot" style I was used to. I concluded there were two reasons. First gas prices are significantly higher there than in other parts of the country. Second, the roads had noticeably deteriorated since I left, and going fast would shake your car to pieces... literally.

Stoned Fairies And Other Phenomena

2009-12-16T20:41:00.000-08:00

I just realized it's been ages since I've done any updates. So where to begin? How about with the Texas Renaissance Festival? I went once before, five years ago, and was quite impressed. This time we went the day after Thanksgiving, partly to take advantage of half price admission.

One problem, it looked like the entire state of Texas had the same idea. The fair is located about 25 miles from where we live, which would normally be about a 35 minute drive. Well.... this one was almost two and a half hours. Fortunately we took my wife's car, which is an automatic. Since mine is a stick shift, the drive would have been a nightmare.

But we persevered and finally made it, and it was worth the effort. I had been to the northern California version of the Renaissance Faire many times, and always enjoyed myself. The last time was also five years ago, and I was rather disappointed. It just felt somewhat cheesy and run down. Not so with the Texas version. First, in the true grand Texas manner, it is huge. Tons of vendors, lots of shows, great food, and the decor is quite elaborate. It is almost sensory overload from all the sites and sounds.

Our favorite show from the last time, "Bold And Stupid Men," wasn't around, which is a shame as it was hilarious. But there were many others that were very entertaining. One I enjoyed was a musician playing a clarrion, a keyboard that controlled an elaborate series of bells. It was very impressive. Naturally one of the songs played was "Carol Of The Bells."

There were some amazing costumes, but one that stood out was a young woman dressed as a fairy. Her costume was well done, but she looked like she had smoked a bowl of Mendocino Gold. I kept bumping into her throughout the day, and she always had the same half smile and glazed over eyes. One had to wonder after a while if she was a performer at the fair, an attendee dressed in costume, or if that really wasn't a costume but what she wore every day whether at the fair or not.

If she ever visits Berkeley, I'm afraid no one would notice.

Wings Over Houston

2009-11-01T18:24:00.000-08:00

I spent Halloween day with a friend at the Wings Over Houston airshow at Ellington Airport. Ellington's claim to fame is it is used by the Johnson Space Center, and has even seen the space shuttle stop by on occasion.

I love air shows, one of my earliest memories is my Dad taking me to one in Albuquerque when I was four years old. I clearly remember being able to identify by sight several types of planes, and could only conclude dad had shown me pictures and told me the names before the show. I thought it was fitting that my friend took along his four year old son. It was the lad's first show, and he is a very smart and well behaved child. He had a blast at the show.

There were several static displays of contemporary and historic military aircraft. But three highlights of the show really stood out. First, Texas is home to the Commemorative Air Force, once known by the rather politically incorrect name of the Confederate Air Force. This group has been around for several decades, and is a collection of aviation enthusiasts. They dedicate themselves to locating and restoring old military planes, with emphasis on World War 2 examples.

They have contributed many aircraft and pilots, to movies. In the late 1960's they participated in the Battle of Britain film. However, I doubt any of them were given speaking roles seeing as how most of them are Texans. Somehow a pilot telling the late Sir Lawrence Olivier, "Yeeehaaaaaaa!!! We got the Germans and the damn Yankees on the run!" may not have quite fit in with the atmosphere of England in 1940.

They had enough P-51 Mustangs to form an aerial demonstration team. Another demo was recreating the attack on Pearl Harbor with about a dozen replicas of the Japanese planes that participated. This was complete with some pretty spectacular pyrotechnics. They flew over a grass field next to the runway, which then erupted with some great looking explosions. Meanwhile you had sound effects of frantic officers giving orders, anti aircraft guns opening up and air raid sirens. It was loud, and it was great.

Some other demos were a huge C-17 transport flying with an ancient C-47. The C-47 looked like it was flying with the pedal to the metal, (they weren't renowned for their speed), while the C-17 pilot was hoping he wouldn't suck the poor C-47 into an engine.

Meanwhile, back on the ground there was a display of a C-130 that the Hurricane Hunters use. Plus the crew was on hand to demonstrate their equipment and answer questions. I told one they did a great job this past season since no hurricanes hit Texas. I imagine when these guys fly commercial, they aren't the least bothered by turbulence. They are dedicated and certainly brave, after all anyone who actually wants to fly inside a hurricane is a cut above the rest of us. It was interesting hearing what they see inside a hurricane. I had always envisioned it as a constant dark gray, but in reality you see all shades of gray, and then you break into swaths of clear sky between storm bands. The eeriest is the eye, which is crystal clear, blue sky surrounded by cloud bands.

I did wonder if anyone who applies to fly with them must first of all have no next of kin. And in case they had to abandon the plane in the middle of the storm, I have a feeling the exchange with the Coast Guard would go something like, "We're in the ocean floating in the middle of a category 5 hurricane, when can you pick us up?" "Nothing personal guys, but you're on your own."

The highlight of the show was the Blue Angels. As many times as I've seen them, I am always in awe of their skill and steel nerves. I saw them last year in San Francisco a few weeks before starting my trip to live in Texas. My ex landlady hated them. She said, "Oh I hate those jets. I was trying to talk on the phone but they were so loud I had to tell the person I was talking to I'd call back." My reply, "What you heard was the sound of our armed forces giving you the right to be selfish, self centered and not have any appreciation for the sacrifices they make so we can have the freedoms we enjoy."

All in all, it was a spectacular show, and probably the best I've ever seen. I'm already looking forward to next year's show.

So Where's My Award?

2009-10-09T16:54:00.000-07:00

... For good intentions. Not sure what those intentions are, but I should be rewarded for them. After all, if Obama can be given to Nobel Peace Prize for his good intentions after only two weeks in office, then I deserve one.

The point of course is that an award should only be given after you actually accomplish something. A director intending to produce a great movie isn't given an Academy Award until the movie is made. A baseball player intending to have a great season doesn't win the Most Valuable Player award until the season is over and he's actually had a great season.

Perhaps before his term is over, Obama will negotiate a lasting peace treaty in the Mideast or something else that actually is deserving of this award. But for the Nobel committee to give him this award is not only way premature, but it makes what has already become an award tainted by some of the recent recipients an absolute joke. I am very disappointed the President accepted it. If he had any integrity he would have said, "I'm flattered, but am not worthy."

Personally I would be offended if offered the Nobel Peace Prize. And for two reasons, first it was given to Yasser Arafat, a terrorist who when he was giving the face of turning into a respectable political leader used the opportunity to rob his own people blind.

Second was when Al Gore was the recipient, along with the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, (IPCC). IPCC is a shameful political organization baying at the moon on "climate change." They have been discredited as shills with no credibility, but they are well funded with their eyes on stealing even more money from governments and businesses sadly caving in to their shenanigans.

Al Gore of course is in the hip pocket of IPCC. But what galls me the most, is another nominee the year he won was Irena Sendler, who nearly died from her tireless efforts to save Jewish children from the Warsaw Ghetto in World War Two. She rescued 2500 children, getting them false documents to hide their identities. Here's her story, courtesy of newsbusters.org:

Irena Sendler, born in 1910, was raised by her Catholic parents to respect and love people regardless of their ethnicity or social status. Her father, a physician, died from typhus that he contracted during an epidemic in 1917. He was the only doctor in his town near Warsaw who would treat the poor, mostly Jewish victims of this tragic disease. As he was dying, he told 7-year-old Irena, "If you see someone drowning you must try to rescue them, even if you cannot swim."

In 1939 the Nazis swept through Poland and imprisoned the Jews in ghettos where they were first starved to death and then systematically murdered in killing camps. Irena, by than a social worker in Warsaw, saw the Jewish people drowning and resolved to do what she could to rescue as many as possible, especially the children. Working with a network of other social workers and brave Poles, mostly women, she smuggled 2,500 children out of the Warsaw ghetto and hid them safely until the end of the war. Sendler took great risks - obtaining forged papers for the children, disguising herself as an infection control nurse, diverting German occupation funds for the support of children in hiding. She entered the Warsaw ghetto, sometimes two and three times a day, and talked Jewish parents into giving up their children.

Sendler drugged the babies with sedatives and smuggled them past Nazi guards in gunny sacks, boxes and coffins. She helped the older ones escape through the sewers, through secret openings in the wall, through the courthouse, through churches, any clever way she and her network could evade the Nazis. Once outside the ghetto walls, Sendler gave the children false names and documents and placed them in convents, orphanages and with Polish families. In 1942 the Polish underground organization ZEGOTA recruited her to lead their Children's Division, providing her with money and support. Her hope was that after the war she could reunite the children with surviving relatives, or at least return their Jewish identities.

To that end she kept thin tissue paper lists of each child's Jewish name, their Polish name and address. She hid the precious lists in glass jars buried under an apple tree in the back yard of one of her co-conspirators. In 1943 Irena Sendler was arrested, tortured and sentenced to death by firing squad. She never divulged the location of the lists or her Polish underground contacts. At the last moment she was saved by ZEGOTA which bribed a guard to secure her freedom. She still bears the scars and disability of her torture.

What isn't added is that after her rescue, she went back to her rescue work. So how many lives did Al Gore save?

My Life Is Now Complete

2009-10-01T19:33:00.000-07:00

But first a techie rant. Can anyone explain why iTunes makes burning a CD of your playlist as difficult as possible? One would think there would be a drop down menu item with "Burn CD" but that would be too easy. Instead you click on an obscure icon at the bottom of the screen, select a playlist, then remember to right click to bring up the burn CD option. Really intuitive... not! It all works after a fashion but for a company that prides itself on easy to use software they really fell asleep at the switch on this one.

Ok, now about the title of this post. When I was growing up, my dad always mowed the lawn. In Livermore, we only had a front lawn, as the backyard was taken up by various shrubs, patios, tetherball courts, swingsets and raised planters, so no grass to mow. Being a do it yourselfer, and being particular about how the yard looked, Dad never asked any of us to help. That was ok with me, as it meant one less household chore.

After moving away from home, I was in several apartments, which meant no lawn, though the ghastly green shag carpet in one tried vainly to achieve at least the visual of one though failing miserably at it. I then bought the townhouse in Fremont, which had a small lawn in front that the homeowners association took care of. The landscapers usually did this very early in the morning and with lawnmowers so raucous they would make a jet engine at full power in the living room seem peaceful.

Then last year it was the move to Texas, and to a house with a nice big lawn. However, my wife, who has the green thumb, (I've been known to kill silk plants), insisted on doing the mowing. Fortunately, she had a self propelled lawnmower, but still the size of the yard combined with the heat of Texas summers made yard care something that required careful planning. As for me... well, her insistence on mowing the lawn kept up my tradition of getting out of a household chore.

Then last night she had a lot time sensitive work to get done for her web based job. However, the back lawn was in desperate need of mowing, and as usual there wasn't a herd of goats handy for the job. Being the gallant gentleman I am, I volunteered. Uhmmm... volunteered to mow the lawn, not make like a goat and eat it.

So with visions of either chasing a runaway mower down the street, or worse mulching my wife's tenderly cared for flowers and shrubs, I got to work. It took a few minutes to get the hang of controlling the mower, but once I got going I felt very... domestic. And fulfilled, uplifted even. I could feel Dad looking down from heaven, and saying, "You missed a spot, those rows are uneven... oh never mind, I'll be down to do it myself."

But when I was done, my wife was pleased. Partially because it got her out of a household chore. I didn't have enough daylight to do the edging, but something tells me there is a weedwhacker in my future.

How Do You Climb The Corporate Ladder When You Are The Ladder?

2009-09-29T19:17:00.000-07:00

One of the nicest things about being your own boss is you can set your hours, and you have better working conditions than in an office. Unless of course your office has something like Larry Ellison or Bill Gates on the door. In this case the office is usually something like a yacht the size of an aircraft carrier, often with a corporate jet parked on the deck and accommodations so lavish they would make King Tut feel self conscious.

My work conditions are quite nice since I have a room set up in my home with everything I need. I still don't have the cats trained to fetch me food and drink from the kitchen yet, so I'm forced to make the sacrifice and actually take care of that myself.

But there are plenty of other perks. Start with... no meetings! I figure in a corporate environment, (and in many ways there is no difference between that of private industry and government), you can end up spending a third of your career zoning out in meetings. Not that zoning out is a bad thing, and in meetings it's probably the most productive use of your time. Zoning out is not recommended at all times, however, as for someone like an airline pilot it is a bad thing.

Another great perk is no managers. I give myself directions, and expect myself to follow them. And if I don't, make up excuses. And if I don't believe my own excuses, then I can fire myself. Hmmmm... wonder if I could get unemployment if I do that? It could be worth a try.

But the work does bring in a bit of income, and it helps give me a sense of self worth. I'm embarking on a new venture soon, selling training software called LearningZen. It's a great looking product, and I hope I can make a go of it. I would also like to be taken on as a contractor to EPA, and am preparing a proposal. Hopefully all this will work. I have no feeling one way or another what will transpire, but as they say, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

More Rambling Thoughts

2009-09-15T21:12:00.000-07:00

When I was with EPA, I got in a fair amount of travel. This was partly because I was in demand for my data consultation services, and partly because my boss could get some peace and quiet by having me out of the office. Last week I had my first business trip since retiring and setting up my own business. It was to the Hualapai reservation in northwest Arizona. They are a client, and a good group to work with. The visit itself went smoothly. I came way with a better understanding of what I'm expected to provide.

The trip itself made me wish I could find a surplus Harrier jump jet at the local airport I could buy. It would have saved me a lot of driving, which ended up taking a lot more time than the actual flights. I decided to take the cheaper flight to Phoenix instead of the longer and more expensive one to Las Vegas. For a start, any flight out of Houston means careful planning, beginning with getting to the main airport, (Bush), in the first place. The traffic to Houston is god awful at rush hour, so my first task was getting flights in off hours. I decided on a 4 PM departure, and return flight that would get me in at about 8 PM. So far, so good.

I threw a couple days worth of travel gear, including my laptop of course, into the trunk of the faithful Corolla and set out. The drive to the airport was uneventful. I left the car at a very well run and convenient off airport parking lot, took a shuttle to the terminal... and proceeded to walk 512 miles to the gate for my flight. Bush is spread out. I got to the gate, and was promptly told the plane to Phoenix was broken and I'd have to wait for a new unbroken one before I could be on my way. Oh well... it gave me time to start on the latest Clive Cussler novel, Spartan Gold. As an aside, it's not his best, but it ended up being entertaining.

Finally, I was in the air, and two and a half hours later, was in Phoenix. First time I've flown into there in about 20 years. First time I've rented a car there. First time I found out the car rental center is located somewhere just north of Wyoming. Fortunately there is a free shuttle from the airport to the car rental center. More fortunately, the shuttle had functioning ac, which in Phoenix is always a good thing.

I got the car, a rather nice Nissan Versa. But I was disappointed. I was staying in Kingman, which is off old Route 66, so a 1963 Corvette would have been much more appropriate, as fans of the old TV show by the name would appreciate. But sadly, the last one had been rented out just before my arrival. Next time....

Anyway, by this time it was starting to get dark. But at least the rush hour traffic, (and it is brutal in Phoenix), was pretty much over. The drive itself was ok, and I was treated to a pretty nifty lightning display a few miles off the freeway. The downside was the drive was over 4 hours. So counting the time from my house to the Houston airport, waiting for my flight, actual flight time, driving time from Phoenix to Kingman... and let's just say it was a very long day. By the time I got to my hotel, I wasn't in the mood to tack on a couple more hours of driving to party in Vegas.

The return drive was made during the day, so I got to see the scenery I missed since the first drive was made at night. And there was some quite nice scenery, enough so that I want to return and tack on a day or so to play tourist. I especially want to see more of the Grand Canyon, and then divert to Sedona afterward.

Now if I can just be certain that 1963 Corvette is available.

Chasing Their Tails

2009-08-27T19:59:00.000-07:00

My mortgage is with a very large and old financial institution. Every month, I would make an electronic transfer from my checking account, (who is with another very large and old financial institution) to the first bank. Then in July, I thought I would set up automatic payments between the two banks.

Bad decision.

Bank A, has an issue, their customer service is run by complete idiots. For a start, the payment transfer took eight days. That is not acceptable, so I went online and canceled the transfer set up. I got an email stating this had been done.

August 1, I went back to my original method of going online to manually transfer the payment from bank B to bank A. No problem there, until a week later I noticed bank A, despite the cancellation of automatic payments... had done just made a transfer from bank B.

So... I called the customer support number of bank A. Major problem, there is no freaking option to talk to a live person. None, zilch, nada. So I sent an email requesting if the overpayment could be refunded, and this time to absolutely, positively, without a doubt, cancel the automatic payments.

Got an email back saying, "This matter will be investigated." A week later, got a phone call from a live person from Bank A. I was shocked, I didn't think they had any actual personnel. He told me to fax proof of the transfer, including the bank statement from Bank B with the transaction I wanted refunded. Did that, then waited.

Today got a letter from Bank A, asking for the same information I faxed well over a week ago. Sent yet another email saying forget the refund, since it is so close to September, make the overpayment the September payment. Here is what I think will happen, the idiots will sent me an email saying they will do that. In the meantime they will send me a refund check. They will then ask where is the September payment.

Monday I'm heading to the local branch of Bank A, and will not surprised to find only ATM machines instead of people working inside. And if I do track down a living person, I'm betting I'll just be given the same phone number that does not give you the option of talking to a real person.

Bank A also received a sizable bailout courtesy of Mr. Obama. I guess spending even a dime of it on actual customer service was never a consideration.

Cutting ties

2009-08-11T20:38:00.001-07:00

I finally stopped procrastinating and applied for my Texas drivers license. I would have done it earlier, except going to DMV anywhere ranks with having my fingernails torn out one by one on my rank of life's pleasures. There are two universal truths about DMV offices. First, they are always crowded. Even if you are there the minute they open, the moment you step inside, the floor tiles will morph into a throng of people.

Second, you will stand in line for a minimum of three hours. If a person in front of you dies of old age or starvation while waiting, the wait is still three hours. If there is only one person or one hundred in front of you, the wait is still three hours. It is inescapable.

Fortunately I had the required mound of documents proving my existence so at least I didn't have the ecstasy of the three hour wait ending followed by the agony of being told I had to return another day with the missing document.

One thing I noted was that the staff were actually polite and helpful. This was quite a contrast from the DMV's in California where surliness was a job requirement. When it was my turn, all I had to do was sign a couple of forms then have the picture taken. This of course turn out horribly, (another universal truth of DMV's everywhere, the picture looks like you've either had the worst fright of your life, the worst hangover of your life, or you've just been embalmed). I was a little disappointed I wasn't allowed to burn my old California license, since it was my last remaining tangible link to that state. We won't count my Cal hats, since that link is emotional rather than official.

So I'm closer to being an official Texan. I was curious what the driver's test would be like, though I didn't have to take one. I figured it would be something like this:

1. What activities are forbidden while driving in Texas?

A. Running over Smart Cars with large trucks
B. Yelling "yeeeha" when you pass another vehicle
C. Reloading your gun

Answer: C - The gun should already be loaded.

2. When driving on a rural road, you must yield right of way to which of the following?

A. Cattle
B. Horses
C. Bigger trucks than yours

Answer: All three

3. When coming to a four way stop, who has right of way?

A. Smart Cars
B. Pickups with off road tires so big they blot out the sun
C. Cadillacs with longhorns mounted on the front of the hood

Answer: C - B is tempting, but the Cadillac driver most likely is a rich rancher or oilman who can sue your behind for all it's worth.

As an aside, jaywalking in Texas is not advised as you can get impaled on the longhorns of those Cadillacs. As for Smart Cars, they are handy for getting around inside Walmart.

City Council Meeting

2009-07-22T20:10:00.000-07:00

Normally I avoid politics, but I made sure to attend the Tomball City Council meeting Monday night since Grand Texas was on the agenda. Mind you, no votes or decisions were made by the council, and it was clear they wanted information, mostly since all they knew about this disaster in waiting of a theme park was what they read in the papers.

The meeting was packed, with an overflow crowd standing on the sides of the room and even spilling out into the hall. The Grand Texas supporters, (most of whom I strongly suspect work for one of the developers partners and were told be there or be fired), numbered about a dozen. They were easy to spot, they all wore cheaply made Grand Texas stickers. Those of us opposing the project and the curious in the audience didn't wear any stickers. I felt like we were in a guerrilla war and wanted to blend in with the civilian population.

Before the Council started discussing business, they allowed meeting attendees a few minutes to say what's on their minds. Anyone at the meeting is first encouraged to fill out a short form with their names and addresses, and can then write down a subject and vote in favor or against. My neighborhood had already selected a spokesperson for us. He did a great job, pointing out how this theme park would be detrimental in terms of noise, crime, and decreased property values.

Five other speakers from close by neighborhoods also spoke. Each was respectful, had done their research, and presented strong cases. Afterward the votes of those who filled out the forms were tallied, and it came out to 5 in favor, 26 opposed. Interesting so few of the sticker wearers voted, though even if all did they would have still been badly outnumbered.

One oddity, and this showed the lack of integrity of the developer, was that the Mayor said she had received a request that each speaker say if they lived in the Tomball city limits. Considering his whining about "outsiders" opposing his project, it's obvious he was the one who made the request. While it is true that the neighborhoods that would be most impacted by this park are literally across the street from the city limits, I thought his shenanigans showed even more of the developers lack of character. We'll ignore the little fact that he lives in The Woodlands, which is much farther than across the street from Tomball, like about 15 miles away.

Plus, there is nothing stopping Tomball from annexing these neighborhoods, (right now they are in an unincorporated part of Harris County).

The developer was allowed to give a presentation, and as expected he launched into an infomercial. He tried to alleviate concerns over noise, which generated a derisive "Wrong" and a bunch of snickers from the back of the room, and then made unsubstantiated claims traffic wouldn't be an issue. He then said that the park's attractions that would generate the most noise would be severely restricted in days and times of operation. Considering these are the only attractions charging admission, and it's even more a head scratcher how this place is going to make a dime of profit.

He was caught on one inaccuracy by a Council member. Another wanted to discuss what he's been reading in the pretty active blogs about the park, but was told by the mayor that this could be construed as personal issues and not for discussion in a council meeting. That was disappointing as it would have really livened things up.

The developer made one very odd statement, that during the wild west shootout re-creations, the guns would use blanks instead of real bullets. I guess that's a good thing, since I don't think anyone wants to go to a park with live bullets flying around.

I sat behind the developer the entire meeting and I feel I earned my right of sainthood by not repeatedly smacking him in the back of the head. My impression is he is not very impressive, and has received a taste of what he's up against. I hope at this point that his financing falls through, and he slinks away never to bother Tomball again.

Texas Is Grand But This Theme Park Sure Isn't

2009-07-18T23:19:00.000-07:00

My community has been in an uproar lately over a proposed theme park called Grand Texas, that if built would unfortunately be only a block from my house. In theory, the park is supposed to "celebrate the spirit of Texas" with educational displays of Texas history, including the oil industry, agricultural displays, and also contain unique shops, a recreation of the governor's mansion, and an outdoor amphitheater for musical acts.

Theory is one thing, reality is another. The developer is a shady realtor from California, and a good example of the type of people I was glad to leave behind when I moved from there to Texas last year. He's a smooth talker who claims to love Texas so much and embrace her values you think he had an ancestor who fought at the Alamo. However, he is what is commonly known as a "carpetbagger." The term arose after the Civil War, when northerners moved to the South and started taking over politically. Their motives were power and above all, greed since they abused their positions to steal all they could through bribes, intimidation and outright theft.

As for the park itself, the developer for a start has yet to purchase the land. His dream for financing is to con local businesses into investing in the park, and for a guaranteed annual return of 12%. Oh please, the only person who could guarantee that rate of return is Bernie Madoff, and he is now spending 150 years as Bubba's Boy Toy. The Grand Texas developer has also been very active in the press, claiming that construction has already started, (he hasn't even submitted a thing to the city of Tomball planning department, let alone the above mentioned not owning the land yet, if ever). Yep, classic carpetbagger.

Maybe he got away with this tactic in the Los Angeles area where he came from, but there are strict procedures here that he has not followed. Needless to say, there is strong opposition. He has duped some residents into supporting him, but the neighborhoods that would be most affected have drawn together, gotten organized, and are making it very clear to the city of Tomball that this is a very poor location for this type of park. In addition to the noise, the fact that admission will be free will attract criminal elements looking for easy prey. And when the park closes at night, they will be looking for targets of opportunity, which will include my neighborhood.

As for this park "celebrating the spirit of Texas" one major attraction would be a paintball facility. Yep, that's sure to be a genuine Texas experience. I can see why the Alamo fell, "The Mexican army has muskets and some idiot gave us paintball guns?"

The land this park would be located on is currently zoned residential, so it would have to be rezoned commercial first. I am definitely not anti development, and would love to see either a business park or a shopping center that blends with the surrounding area, which is heavily wooded so saving as many trees as possible is very desirable. But an outsider with only a short history in Texas, and who doesn't even live in Tomball, (he's in the Woodlands, about a half hour's drive from Tomball, it's a master planned community, very nice to look at, but very sterile in atmosphere and well insulated culturally), is not the type of person you want telling you what is best for your community.

Lately he has been swinging from playing the role of agitator, "Outsiders are trying to stop Grand Texas" to victim, "Why all these personal attacks?" As for the agitator, yes it is true technically my neighborhood is outside the city limits, however we patronize Tomball businesses, and above all would be the most affected. As for the victim, the developer has posted several times in a popular real estate blog, though his words ring hollow. He has displayed numerous inconsistencies, skirted around facts that counter his claims about the park, and then either tried to schmooze with those who disagree with him or engage in his own personal attacks. Completely unprofessional and sleazy if you ask me. And his words are now public record.

On Monday evening there will be a City Council meeting and on the agenda is concern over the press coverage of Grand Texas. It will be interesting to see how the Council reacts to being blindsided by someone who thinks going to the press will generate enough public support so he can slide through the permit process. I'll be there as will several others who have strong ties to Tomball and are dead set against this project. I think this developer is in for a rude shock.

Miscellaneous Ramblings

2009-07-06T21:25:00.000-07:00

So much for my plan to update this blog every other day at the most. I get a lot of ideas, but unfortunately they keep coming during the middle of the night or while out to dinner, and since I'm not inclined to carry my laptop with me everywhere, by the time I am near a computer again the idea is often gone. I supposed I could keep a pen with me and just write the flashes of inspiration on a hand or arm, and then explain to anyone who asks that I'm starting a new tattoo craze.

A couple of things have happened lately, one of them sad. As the adopted parent of eight cats I had to get used to household of constant activity. Friday before last, my wife left for work, and as always, BJ, a stray who came inside her apartment some years ago, looked around and said, "This'll do" was perched on the kitchen counter. He's not supposed to be there, but he's so affectionate we let it go. Of course when not on the counter he would be stretched out on the floor, invariably right where you wanted to step. Hence his nickname, "Speedbump."

At noon I went into the master bedroom, and heard him yowling from under the bed. He's usually very quiet, so I took a look, and he was lying on his side, panting heavily, drooling, and in obvious discomfort. I pulled him out, and looked him over. He tried to get up, but he couldn't move his back legs. So I called the vet and rushed him over. He had a thrombotic embolism, a blood clot in the femoral artery. The vet was excellent, and explained that while they could make him more comfortable, even if the clot could be removed, his chances for recovery were not good, especially reversal of the paralysis. I called my wife, and we agreed that it would be best to put him to sleep.

A vet assistant brought him out so I could say goodbye. He was still panting, but was clearly more comfortable. I rubbed his head and talked to him, then he turned and gazed at me, and his eyes had the message I've seen before with cats, "Thank you for caring for me and giving me a loving, comfortable home, but it's time. I'm ready." I said goodbye, then called for the assistant. I didn't want to be present for the injection, as there was no need. When he gave me that last look, I felt his spirit leave.

It never gets harder to say goodbye to a pet, but there is the comfort BJ is at peace, and now frolicking while young and healthy again. He was quite a charmer, and I have no doubt he's already made his acquaintance with Squeak.

A more positive event was the week before when I went to downtown Houston for a doctor's appointment. Afterward, to kill a few hours before meeting up with my wife to head home, and to escape the ridiculous summer heat, I went to the Houston Museum of Natural Science. While there, I paid extra to see the Genghis Khan exhibit.

It was quite interesting, and taught me that old Genghis was more than the brutal conqueror most people thought. He was a brilliant military tactician, and politically he knew how to absorb the people he conquered into the Mongolian system. That gained him new allies and allowed him and his sons to expand his empire until it controlled more land mass than any empire in history. He also had some 50 wives and 500 concubines. It's estimated that he has about 16 million descendants alive today.

There were some film clips on how he's been portrayed in film, including being played by John Wayne in what is easily the worst casting in history.

There was one fact that wasn't mentioned. In Guam there was, and may still be, the Genghis Khan Furniture Store. Personally I think that is a pretty sad comedown from ruling most of the known world to selling furniture in Guam. He was probably too worn out creating his 16 million descendants to realize what a humble future was in store.

Third Circle of Hades

2009-06-30T18:20:00.000-07:00

Saying Houston is hot in summer is like saying the Pope is Catholic, it's an observation so obvious that anyone you say it to has the right to shake their heads then ridicule you to no end. However, these past couple of weeks have been hotter than usual, and unfortunately bone dry. Grass is drying up all over the area, in some places there are water restrictions, (though unlike where I was in California construction of water storage reservoirs has actually made some attempt to keep up with the growing population). Fortunately my house has excellent insulation and air conditioning, so I've been able to stay comfortable. I do venture out from time to time, though doing something like running marathons during the middle of the day is not enticing.

Texans in general are a tough lot, so the main complainers about the heat are wussies from places like California. So I hold my tongue and only whine to the cats, who couldn't care less in the first place.

So what's causing the excessive heat? Well.... how about a high pressure system that's enjoyed Texas so much it hasn't realized it's worn out its welcome and moved on? Even when it does, it will still usually be well in the 90's almost every day for the rest of summer, so I'm trying to acclimate myself a bit more each day. Although air conditioning is no longer a luxury in life, it's a necessity.

As for global warming... oops, almost forgot, "climate change" having any bearing, it's nonsense. Heat waves have happened before and will happen again, just as the earth will cool off and will warm up again, and almost all due to (drum roll please), the unregulated activity of that dastardly defier of envirowackos and all others who want the government to control everything, the sun! And as a point of interest, it just ended a record 290 straight days without a single sunspot, which are an excellent indicator of solar activity. Sunspots mean the sun is getting frisky, so no sunspots mean in relative terms the sun has been taking a snooze. So less solar energy is reaching the earth.

However, climates are extremely complex and the reduced amount of solar energy reaching the earth does not mean polar bears will soon be invading Houston. But this hysteria over "fighting climate change" is not only ridiculous, it is going to be very expensive for all of us if the envirosheeple get their way. I'm all for energy independence for the U.S., but calm, rationale discussion and decisions will have to be made, something this country has sadly lost the will to do.

In the meantime I'll be trying to keep my cool. Literally.

Fathers Day

2009-06-21T17:44:00.000-07:00

I recently finished Clive Cussler's latest, "Blue Medusa," and as usual it was very entertaining. There are the dashing, wisecracking heroes, dastardly villains, beautiful yet smart and brave heroines, lots of hi tech, lots of chases, lots of explosions, lots of narrow escapes. Great art it isn't, but then again many of the classics are real snoozers favored only by high school English teachers who get sadistic delight out of assigning them to their students.

However, with this and any Cussler novel for the past ten years, I have bittersweet feelings when I'm done reading. My dad introduced me to his books when he thought I would enjoy "Raise The Titanic." I would say staying almost that entire night to read it counts as enjoyment. Afterwards, I could always count on Cussler coming out with a new book in time for either Dad's birthday or Fathers Day. Not only did that make present shopping a breeze, but afterwards Dad and I would spend several long phone calls or exchange letters discussing the book.

The ultimate was when I got Dad an autographed cupy of "Incas Gold." He was thrilled beyond words to say the least. After Dad passed away ten years ago, I kept buying every Cussler novel the moment it came out. But it was frustrating and saddening not being able to talk to Dad afterwards.

Beyond our love for the same adventure writer, Dad and I shared a lot of interests. He got me interested in auto mechanics, and how could I ever forget mailing him the carburetor from my 1974 Mazda to be rebuilt? We also had a love of sports, (and to maintain a father son relationship I'm so fortunate Cal never played Notre Dame in football, or even worse, played and beat them). He introduced me to airplanes, and as I noted in a previous blog even at the age of four I could recognize several types by sight.

But most of all he taught me honesty and integrity in all things, he tried hard to teach me patience, which is a lesson learned with mixed results over the years. He taught me tolerance and respect for all. He taught me good manners, and to never compromise my principles. He got me interested in history, science and astronomy. But try as he might, while I do very well with statistics, I never did get very far with higher math.

He would have supported me completely during my divorce, and would be delighted with my new English wife. I'm sure he would get along wonderfully with my new in-laws. Dad could spin a great yarn, as can my father-in-law. Getting them together would provide many hours of entertainment.

There are some hurts that are never meant to heal. Dad's absence is one of them. But that hurt is not a bad thing, it makes me appreciate more and more as time goes on what he did and who he was. It's the type of hurt that keeps memories fresh. I'll see him again someday, and I know the first thing we'll talk about is getting caught up on Clive Cussler's books.

Comfort Zone

2009-06-12T19:45:00.000-07:00

In life we all have comfort zones, places and situations that make us feel secure, satisfied, and well... comfortable. These are created by growing familiarity with something we deal with on a regular basis. For example, the first visit to a new store often brings feelings of frustration from not knowing at once where to find anything, though there is the pleasure of then discovering a section that has products we like. Still there is the sense of time being wasted wandering around wondering where everything is. This sense is especially enhanced when roaming a Home Depot looking for something as mundane as velcro fasteners.

But on subsequent visits, scattered memories of previous ventures eventually start coming together and one can confidently go right to the aisle containing the desired goods, and pick out exactly what is needed. Do note if you go to Home Depot so often you start telling their employees where everything is located, then you do need to diversify your shopping experience. Still you can confidently say Home Depot is now a comfort zone for you.

However, a comfort zone could be anything that gives you a warm and fuzzy feeling, such as:

Blue Bell Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream... definite comfort zone.
Applebee's Triple Chocolate Meltdown.... orgasmic zone.
Applebee's Triple Chocolate Meltdown after taking more than your portion from the plate you are sharing with your significant other and she's impaled your hand to the table with a spoon... not a comfort zone.
Driving in the redwood country in northern California... comfort zone.
Driving in Houston rush hour traffic at the end of a ten hour slog, missing your turnoff, and all the while being serenaded by a screaming Siamese cat who is tired of being in her carrier... not a comfort zone.
Watching Cal football... too nerve wracking to be a comfort zone.
My new house... comfort zone.
Summer weather at my new house... not a comfort zone.
Industrial strength air conditioning in my new house... serious comfort zone.
Keeping up with old friends... comfort zone.
Old Town Tomball... comfort zone.
Building models... comfort zone.
Cats "helping" me build models... not a comfort zone.
Clive Cussler novels... comfort zone.

A Horse Is A Horse...

2009-06-11T21:00:00.000-07:00

Come on, everyone can fill in the rest of the words for the theme to the Mr. Ed Show. You can't? Then you are either too young or too clueless. It was a show that on the premise was absurd, the foibles and adventures of a talking horse. The reality was a show that was quite clever and entertaining, much unlike what passes for sitcoms today. (Oh look, another dysfunctional family wanting us to laugh at their inanity). The star of course, was Mr. Ed, a cynical palomino who would only talk to Wilbur, and then get involved in antics that invariably got Wilbur into comedic trouble.

I loved the show, but for most of my life it was as close as I ever got to a horse. When I met my wife, she told me she had two horses, an elderly thoroughbred named Annapolis, and a younger Percheron named Star. On my second visit to Houston after we started dating, I was introduced to my new equine companions. To say I was nervous and intimidated was an understatement. While horses aren't carnivorous, they are BIG. The first time I was asked to give Annapolis a treat, I was afraid he'd take my hand off.

Then I watched my wife ride him, and was impressed at how she was able to control such a large animal. Star unfortunately has never been trained to be ridden, and is perfectly content to live her life as a pasture ornament. Still there is the hope that she can be trained one day.

As time went on, I got more and more comfortable being around the horses, though I never let my guard down since if one of them got spooked, I would only be a hoof print in the grass if I was in the way when the horse bolted.

The horses are stabled at a facility about 20 miles from the house. Currently they share a pasture with two other horses belonging to other owner. One of them, Donin, is an impressive Clydesdale. His nickname is "Lunch Bucket" because he's always eating. Whenever I'm near the pasture fence, he rumbles up to me expecting treats, which I oblige him with.

Annapolis is 30, which is equivalent to over 90 for a human. But don't expect him to act his age. He's in very good health and can still be ridden. He's also quite spirited. While he had the necessary equipment to reproduce removed many years ago, he's very attached to Star. One time my wife was grooming him when he saw Star along a fence on the other side of the pasture flirting with another male horse. Annapolis started getting antsy, and when he was finally released back into the pasture, he tore across, whinnied menacingly at the other male, then nudged Star until she moved away from the fence. I translated the whinnying to "Unhoof my woman you fiend!"

His nickname is Hef, after Hugh Hefner, since he still tries to act studly. Wednesday night my wife put a fly mask on his face to try and keep those noxious critters from being such a nuisance. He then raced around the pasture, whinnying up a storm, "Hey gang, check my new threads. Am I the hottest or what?"

So modesty isn't one of his virtues.

I Don't Live There Anymore

2009-06-01T19:17:00.000-07:00

I got a couple of pieces of mail today, one from the California State Automobile Association threatening to cancel my membership if I didn't renew in two weeks, the second from the California Department of Motor Vehicles saying the fees for renewing the registration on my car have shot up because they are overdue. In the case of CSAA, I can ignore them since I'm now a member of the Texas AAA. As for California DMV, one would think they'd have a clue that someone with a Texas address isn't likely to want to register their car in California. This is unless they think I get my mail in Texas, but actually commute by car about four thousand miles a day to and from California for work.

And one wonders why that state is so broke with not so sharp bureaucracies like this. I'm tempted to mail them my old license plates, after I use my drill to make them look like they have a few bullet holes, with a note stating, "This is what happens when you drive in Texas with these plates plus bumper stickers saying 'Same Sex Marriage Now,' 'Legalize Pot,' 'Ban Meat Eating Gun Owners Who Drive Big Trucks,' and the one that really gets folks riled down here, 'The Longhorns Suck.' "

And now for a Windows 7 update. I finally got the Internet to work with XP installed in VirtualBox, and lo and behold, I was able to activate XP, even though this is a previously used copy. It appears Microsoft could care less any more about XP. Unless of course, this is a ploy to lull me into a sense of false security and that the Microsoft Police are assembling a SWAT team as I type this. But I was able to download and install Service Pack 2 for XP, plus Zone Alarm and Avast anti virus. However, attempts to install PFS Works failed. It took over an hour just for the installation, then afterwards just calling up the program was so painfully slow I ended up giving up.

So I created a second virtual machine in Virtual Box, and installed Windows 2000. This time, PFS Works installed and ran perfectly. With a couple more tweaks I got 2000 to get on speaking terms with my printer. I then had a bout of serious geekdom, and got Win 7, 2000 and XP all running at the same time.

I need help...

Windows 7 Update

2009-05-29T20:48:00.000-07:00

I'm still dual booting my desktop, (and no that doesn't mean I have to kick it twice to make it work), with XP and Windows 7. As I stated in an earlier post, the main disappointment with Windows 7 is the version of Virtual PC that allows installing older operating systems such as Windows 2000, only works if the computer supports Hardware Virtualization. Sadly, my desktop does not. As an alternative, Sun's VirtualBox works quite well despite some quirks.

For a start, setting up file sharing in VirtualBox is not that intuitive, but I finally got it to work. Second, setting up an Internet connection within VirtualBox is a royal pain. I have yet to get it to work. I would like to, since I want to see if I can also set up XP. This requires an Internet link for activation, otherwise it'll timeout after 30 days.

I have a version of Virtual PC that works in Vista set up on my laptop and it works nicely. I especially like the drag and drop feature for file sharing between the Windows 2000 installation and Vista. I haven't bothered with the Internet set up for Windows 2000 since I have no need for it.

I sent an inquiry to a Windows 7 forum asking if there will be a version of Virtual PC that does not require Hardware Virtualization. Unfortunately the answer is no. Strike one against Microsoft and what is by far their best operating system.

So why bother with all this fuss? I do have some older games and software that will not run in Windows 7. These are 16 bit programs desiged for Windows 98 and ... gasp!!!! DOS. So far they'll run, albiet somewhat slowly in the case of my still favorite word processor, PFS Works, in the VirtualBox Windows 2000 combination. I did get a kick that a free DOS emulator, DOSBox, not only installed flawlessly in Windows 7, (and mind you, this is the hifaluting 64 bit version), but a couple of ancient DOS games work perfectly in DOSBox.

Still a couple of issues... first there isn't a 64 bit version of Zone Alarm yet. I have no idea how well the built in Win 7 firewall works, but I'll feel better when Zone Alarm is upgraded. Second, web browers. Firefox 3 is unfortunately flaky in any version. I've run into problems with web pages not loading completely. Opera seems better overall, and the 64 bit version of Firefox, the still ominously named Minefield, is ok although it doesn't support Flash yet. I've fiddled a bit with Internet Explorer 8 and it's.... Internet Explorer. It's ok in a pinch.

But overall, Win 7 is looking good. Even the Aero interface that brought Vista to its knees on my laptop runs quickly and smoothly. There may be hope for Microsoft afterall, though the Hardware Virtualization issue is still bothersome.

Not Even Tin Plated

2009-05-29T20:22:00.000-07:00

About a year and a half ago, I told a friend California was on the verge of imploding. The mortgage crisis was heating up, the state was broke and getting deeper into debt, (and unlike the federal government, the state cannot remain in debt at the start of the fiscal year), the infrastructure was falling apart, (highways had more potholes than the moon has craters), and the public education system had fallen from one of the best in country to one of the worst.

I hate it when I'm right about these things.

The cuts being proposed to balance the budget are draconian at best. Most state parks will be closed, public education will be cut drastically, already several school districts have cut out their music programs and are considering dropping their sports programs. Assistance to the disabled will be reduced considerably. State employees are facing 14% pay cuts, thus emphasizing the servant part of civil service. Meanwhile cities are laying off firefighters and police because they can no longer afford to pay all of them. The state is rapidly turning into a third world country.

Meanwhile many are in a state of denial. The state Air Resources Control Board recently announced a program to reduce greenhouse gases that if implemented would destroy what's left of the state's economy. The cities of San Jose and San Francisco trumpeted the spending of millions for charging stations for plug in hybrids, ignoring the little fact that these cars are very expensive and rare.

There is a lot of blame to spread around, but basically the state overspent for years while tax revenue couldn't keep up. Prop 13 from 30 years ago guaranteed property taxes would one day be inadequate because the tax rate was set artificially low. Meanwhile the hyperinflated housing market could not be sustained, resulting in massive foreclosures as people who fell for criminally low introductory interest rates fell behind on payments when those rates adjusted upwards.

As an aside, I believe the only mortgage that should be offered is 30 year fixed rate. If you can afford it, go for it, if not, rent.

So the day of financial reckoning has finally come. It's sad seeing the state that was my home for 45 years collapse like this, and I feel for family and friends who are still there.

However, my decision to move to Texas is becoming more and more one of the best decisions of my life.

Moving Trees

2009-05-23T20:03:00.000-07:00

When our new house was built, part of the landscaping included a pair of live oak trees in front. Nice looking trees, and in time would provide well needed shade. One little problem, one of the trees is alive, the other isn't. Something about no growth and then no leaves is a bit of a giveaway. I called the builders, who said they could get us a replacement at cost, like four hundred dollars. That's a bit much, so my wife and I decided to do the replacement ourselves.

Step one was get a new tree. Friday my neighbor across the street was planning to do some plant shopping so he invited me along. He has a truck, which makes things easier of course. We checked Walmart, and their trees were scraggly at best. So the next stop was the Houston Garden Center. Wonderful place, tons of trees and plants, and best of all, everything was half off. The temptation was to buy a whole forest, but I tempered my ambitions.

I found a nice live oak, about nine feet tall, which we wrestled into the truck, then took home. In the meantime, my wife had dug up the old tree, which was now lying forlornly on its side. Any woman who can uproot a tree has my respect, though when she's out of earshot I'll try to impress anyone who'll listen that I actually ripped the old tree out of the ground with my bare hands. I did contribute by sawing the old trunk off, then dragging the woody carcass to the empty field next to the house. There it can decompose and renew the cycle of life.

Next stage was dragging the root ball out of the ground. This was saturated with water, (one of the factors that killed the old tree is there is a layer of impermeable clay under the topsoil that traps water, in effect drowning the roots), and it weighed one hundred thirty seven tons, give or take an ounce. After seriously considering high explosives or a small thermonuclear device to get this thing out of the ground, I gave it one more mighty heave and it came loose. It was then rolled to the field to give it's all the continuing cycle of life. Though at this point I was hardly waxing poetic, I was just glad to get the damn thing out of the ground.

Time to call it a day. Then Saturday afternoon, with the temperature pushing ninety and the humidity climbing, we decided on the next logical step... get several bags of topsoil and mulch and plant the new tree. I quickly decided the toughest people in the world are anyone who works outside in Houston's hot weather. Step one was digging up as much clay as we could. Clay is another substance that increases in weight by a factor of ten when you need to move it from one place to another. One of my wife's horses, the Percheron especially, would have come in handy pulling the overflowing wheelbarrow the clay was tossed into to the empty lot so I could dump the clay out. Said Percheron has been happy as a clam being a pasture ornament her entire life. So if I even suggested putting her to work you would have seen a horse rolling on the ground in laughter.

Thus I ended up pulling and cussing the wheelbarrow to the field to dump the clay.

Next step was planting the new tree, then surrounding it with plenty of topsoil and mulch. Naturally the topsoil had packed on quite a few pounds from the time it was loaded into the car to the time it was unloaded. Ditto with the mulch. The tree itself had grown seventy five feet overnight meaning it was also heftier. But when all was said and done, the new tree was in place, except....

.... It was swaying a bit too much in the breeze as we had forgotten to stake it down. So another trip to Walmart to get some stakes and rope. The stakes were pretty tall, but had pointy ends which helped drive them into the ground. But not enough to stay. I got the ladder out to pound them deeper in the ground. In the meantime of course, the stakes had grown to three hundred feet tall so I had to shimmy up each stake, then pound mightily with a mallet to drive them deep enough in the ground to stay put. At that point tying the tree to the stakes was fairly easy, though my wife must have been tempted to lasso then hogtie me at that point.

Whew!

My next project will be expanding the flower bed out back. This is lined with enough building stones to create a respectable castle, most of which I already moved into place for the existing flower bed. For some reason I keep hearing the Chain Gang song in my head.

Nano nano

2009-05-16T22:15:00.000-07:00

One of the more intriguing, and mysterious technologies is nano technology. At its most basic, this is the design of microscopic machines that can perform specific tasks. For example, these tiny critters could be lurking beneath a layer of paint on a car door. The door gets dinged, and the nano beasts go into action, releasing bits of composite materials to fill the ding and then fill in the scratch with new paint. Pretty spiffy, unless there was a screw up at the factory and your "hey look at me" bright red BMW starts sporting neon pink splotches. Though if intentional that would be a neat way to get back at an obnoxious BMW owner, which is all of them.

Taking this a step farther, it's not beyond the realm of possibility to design nano technology so you can change the shape and function of your car. Just think of the fun you could have with an iPod type of device that remotely controls your car's shape:

Big Ass Truck - Mandatory in Texas, Colorado, and Wyoming. Absolutely ridiculous in San Francisco, though if you are driving in form one the fore mentioned states, you would have the option of morphing your Big Ass Truck into a Prius.

The Prius option is also handy when you're not actually hauling something in the truck, like lumber, top soil, rustled cattle, or bratty children you pray will fall out when you hit a pot hole. You would also want the Prius when gas hits $100 a gallon. But when gas is relatively cheap, you have other options, such as:

Ferrari - Perfect for impressing your neighbors, (except in Texas where if it ain't a big ass truck or Dodge Charger it doesn't count), or for that mid life crisis. The Ferrari option is also handy for a parent of a teenager who wants to borrow the car to impress his girlfriend. Kid pulls up to the girl's house in the Ferrari, revving the engine of course to show he's not only cool, but he has class. Kid dashes to the door, his girlfriend swoons when she sees the ride that's taking them to Burger King, they passionately embrace, then turn around to see... Dad had set a timer to turn the Ferrari into a station wagon. Totally uncool. Girl dumps the kid, kid is devastated, dad chortles with glee.

Another option, Prius to drive through town saving lots of gas and making a statement, "I'm saving energy, creating almost no pollution, at least until the batteries have to be replaced and I'm out at least eight thousand big ones for new ones while trying to find a place to take the highly toxic old batteries." However, upon seeing the freeway onramp and traffic being close up and personal in every direction to the horizon, you press a button while muttering, "Screw the environment crap and Al Gore can stuff it."

Presto! You are now driving an M-1 Abrams tank. If it was good enough to kick Saddam Hussein's rear, it's good enough for say Houston rush hour traffic. Just be sure you spent the extra to get the functioning 120 millimeter gun, and the ammo of course, since you can be sure anyone else on the road with the means has already done so. Also be sure after returning home to change it back to the Prius, especially before parking in the garage or you'll have a whole of of explaining to do.

Microsoft Almost Gets It Right

2009-05-10T19:28:00.000-07:00

I've used Microsoft Windows in its many iterations since the early 90's, and for the most part found it tolerable, with the exception of Millennium, which ranks with the Titanic and Hindenburg as one of the great technology disasters of the century. I'm a self admitted geek who enjoys tinkering with hardware and software, sometimes with nightmarish consequences, but details. I found Windows XP to be the best of Microsoft's operating systems, as it was more stable, (stable being a relative term), more flexible and easier to customize than its predecessors.

My laptop came with Vista preinstalled, and it took a lot of tweaks to get it to run the way I wanted. It also has some issues with stability and odd quirks like timing out my internet connection if I don't do something like click on a weblink every 15 minutes, though that could also be HP's way of saying their tech support in Bangalore is lonely and they want me to call.

So I was curious but not terribly excited when Windows 7 was announced. Curiosity got me to download a beta version. I installed it in Virtual PC on my desktop, (another Microsoft product, and a freebie, that allows one to set up a virtual computer inside an existing operating system. It actually works quite well). It looked nice and didn't have any horrendous compatibility problems with my most important software.

Then last week a new beta, or to be accurate, release candidate, was available for download. This time I went for the 64 bit version, to finally take advantage of the 64 bit cpu AMD so proudly released several years ago. I also set my desktop up for dual boot, and fortunately I have two hard drives so Windows 7 and XP could have their own homes.

To be honest, I'm rather impressed. The computer certainly runs faster in Windows 7, there have been no issues with stability, and my existing software runs either at the same pace as in XP or in some cases, such as my ancient version of Office, runs faster. The only disappointment is it will not run older 16 bit programs, such as some of my games, or my ancient but still favorite word processor, PFS Works. However, I successfully installed Sun's VirtualBox, another virtual computer program, then installed Windows 2000, which will run my old programs.

So why VirtualBox instead of Virtual PC? Well, the existing version of Virtual PC doesn't run in Windows 7. However, there is a new beta version that does. And it includes Windows XP so older programs can run. So why am I not using it? I can't on my desktop. Unfortunately, the new Virtual PC requires a bios setting for Hardware Virtualization. I built my desktop before that was available. So to take full advantage of Windows 7 when it's released commercially, I'll need a new motherboard that has Hardware Virtualization. This will also mean a new cpu since my existing one won't work with a new motherboard. Neither will the memory, or much of anything else. So I'll be looking at building a new computer.

And afterwards, the hope will be it'll all be worth it.

As Long As My In-Laws Weren't Involved

2009-05-01T18:55:00.000-07:00

The British have a reputation for being staid with enough oddity thrown in to keep things interesting. And to save my skin, I will refrain from making any comments about my English born and raised wife. Anyway, once in a while an enticing event will take place, such as this one from the other day:

Queen Elizabeth II was at home at Windsor Castle, the sentries who guard her were on duty, and the large park surrounding the magnificent building was full of tourists on a Sunday afternoon. So it didn't take long for people to realize that something was out of order when an inebriated couple arrived from a nearby restaurant and began having sex on a grass bank outside the castle, according to witnesses.

"One window from the guardroom opened up and when a soldier saw what was going on he told his mates — and lots of windows opened up," witness Mark Robinson told The Sun newspaper.

"The couple did not care who was looking and just kept going as if they were in their own bedroom."

Japanese tourists filmed the couple, who only stopped when police officers arrived on the scene, witnesses said.

Thames Valley Police said the man and woman were arrested and given a written warning about outraging public decency.

The queen was in the castle at the time, but her office declined Friday to comment about what had happened.

Two things to keep an eye on, Youtube of course, and a statement from the Queen, "Please don't tell me any of my offspring were involved." As for the couple making whoopie, it looks like not only did they "Do carry on," but they actually did.

It's Summer Vacation And I'm Bored

2009-04-30T19:20:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I'll be finishing up a class in 3D Modeling from Lonestar College here in Tomball. It's been an interesting experience, and I picked up quite a bit on the concepts behind creating 3D objects on the computer. I do a lot of work in DAZ 3D, Poser and Bryce, but usually start with downloaded objects and figures then manipulate them to my liking. I always wondered though just how these starter figures were created, thus my interest in the class.

The software used in class is 3D Studio Max, a very potent program that allows you to create just about any object from scratch, be it buildings, people, animals, aliens, or just about anything else. The only downside is the cost, four thousand big ones. Unfortunately the company who makes it, Autodesk, doesn't make a lite version, such as what Adobe does with Photoshop Elements, which does almost everything most people want to do but without the horrendous costs of Photoshop CS. This is akin to being satisfied with a Toyota while leaving the Ferrari for the wealthy enthusiast.

I have a couple other pieces of software that also claim the capability for 3D modeling that I want to smoke test. The hope is they'll end up being able to do what I want. I had the 30 day trial version of 3D Studio Max, but try as I might, I never could find just where they buried the datestamp that made it impossible to reload it after the trial period ran out. And wiping the hard drive and reinstalling the operating system, or buying a new computer every 30 days, just didn't seem practical.

I'm not sure what I'll take next, though I'd love to take a class in Photoshop if it's offered. In the meantime there's always Handgun Proficiency.

Frontier Justice

2009-04-28T19:18:00.000-07:00

I've discovered there are four absolute legal no-no's in Texas and with dire consequences for violating them. First, never mess with a man's cattle, it's liable to get you hung. Second, never mess with a man's horse, it's liable to get you shot. Third, never NEVER mess with a man's truck, it's liable to get you dragged over a gravel road behind the truck for a hundred miles or so, then afterward get shot while being hung. And then the truck owner gets mad.

The fourth is violating what is called the Castle Law, which basically gives a homeowner the right to deal with burglars or anyone else breaking in with deadly force. In some ways this is a throwback to the frontier days of Texas, but the law does make sense in a lot of ways. Just be sure not to invoke it in case of someone who is just a pushy door to door salesman. Plus it can be good for parenting skills as it could make a teenager think twice about violating curfew.

By nature I'm not violent, but my protective instincts would make me want to deal with an intruder in my home harshly. With my inexperience in firearms a liability, I'd be more likely to keep something handy that I do know how to use, like a club of some type. Part of my martial arts training involved stick fighting, and I acquired the bruised knuckles to prove it. The other home defense method is arranging the cats so a burglar trips over one and breaks his neck while falling. Lord knows the cats do a great job trying to trip up my wife and myself.

My younger brother has a fantasy of the perfect home protector, a gay testosterone charged gorilla. Miscreant breaks in, a few minutes later the gorilla has a boy toy.

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And now for a weather update, in the last two days we received an impressive seven and a half inches of rain. The latest storm hit late last night, making sleep impossible but while presenting a delightful Texas Light Show to watch, it caused a mess with the morning commute. Fortunately my wife was able to get to work and back home without an overburden of drama.

The weather brought out some new wildlife. I heard a group of frogs with this metallic croak, and then today heard what sounded like a calf in distress next to the house. About a block away, there was an answering call. I found out that the calls were a different type of frog. That was interesting, made up for the ominous sighting of a pair of very large buzzards roosting on my back wall for a good part of the morning. I'm trying not to let my paranoid side convince me it was anything more than coincidence.

Real Weather

2009-04-27T17:54:00.000-07:00

One thing that could be counted on in the Bay Area was the weather. From about mid November until mid April, the rains came, reaching their peak in January and February, then tapering off. The rest of the year it was bright sunshine with nary a cloud in sight, only the fog creeping in from the ocean and bay overnight. When it did rain, it was usually with a steady fall of raindrops. Thunderstorms were rare, and winds were usually pretty light. Overall temperatures were mild, not too cold in winter, not too hot in summer.

In other words, weather for wimps. This is why the Bay Area has earthquakes to compensate. And if a respectable storm does come in, the reaction is sheer panic. "Oh my God, almost an entire inch of rain and winds over twenty five miles an hour. We're all going to die!"

North of Houston is a different story. There is almost no chance of an earthquake. So what am I to replace a lifetime of natural disaster paranoias with? Why Texas weather of course! There are many parts of the country where the phrase is if you don't like the weather, wait fifteen minutes and it'll change. That's so true down here. We're getting close to the hot season, or I should say hotter season, which means the actual mild weather of Winter and early Spring is a thing of the past. I'm having fun reading weather reports and getting a feel for where our storms come from. The answer is they seem to spring up out of the ground at random.

But if a storm does indeed have a defined origin, if it comes from the Rockies, it brings wind and thunderstorms. If it comes from the west, more wind and thunderstorms. If it comes from the Gulf of Mexico, still more wind and thunderstorms, with a twist if it happens during hurricane season.

One thing I'm not used to are tornado warnings. This is a weather phenomenon I've never been in and would rather avoid. Fortunately, nothing's touched down in my area since I've moved here. I am officially south of Tornado Alley, but there are still those twisters who haven't gotten the memo. The torrential rains are fine for the garden, though there is the occasional street flooding a few blocks away. The lightning and thunder are waycool though, except for the errant flash in the field next to the house. Some things are meant to be enjoyed at a distance.

So far at least, every morning the house is where it was the previous night, so the storms haven't changed my zip code yet. The house is strongly built, which is another plus. I don't think my wife would appreciate me getting out a jackhammer to break through the floor so I can dig a cellar to hide in next time my weather paranoias get the best of me.

Furry Tide

2009-04-26T17:54:00.000-07:00

Last week I had some spare time after a doctors appointment at the Houston Medical Center so I took in the Houston zoo. As zoos go it's rather small, but well done with a nice variety of animals and informative exhibits. I tried to get the grizzly bear to join me in a hearty round of "Go Bears!" to share my enthusiasm for Cal Berkeley's sports, but sadly he was more interested in his afternoon nap rather than performing as the mascot for my alta mater. And climbing into his enclosure to rouse him for at least a round or two of Cal drinking songs did not seem like a good idea.

At home I don't quite have a zoo, but there is an entertaining animal component. I'll always miss my adorable Siamese Squeak, but I am still the proud inheritor of eight felines, plus a variety of birds and assorted squirrels. Plus a mystery critter or two. More on those later.

The cats are courtesy of my wife and the are an interesting mix. One was a stray she adopted some years back, who then became the father of five others she kept. Another was a shelter rescue, and the last hung around her last home and ended up with an invitation to move in rather than be abandoned. Despite the house being fairly large, with that many there are still moments of flying fur, though that may be more do to personalities.

The sire of most of the group, BJ, is very mellow. I'm sure after Ike blasted through last July, he looked up, yawned, and wondered if something had happened. He's also adept at being literally underfoot, hence his nickname, Speedbump. Missy is the only female of the group, and needless to say is pretty neurotic. Panther is a big black cat whose size should make him the Alpha male. So naturally he's very shy and reserved. Baggie is another black cat who has a very sweet nature, but is so quiet when I try to think of the cat's names, he's always the last one I remember.

Then there's Bandit the Clueless, Pippin the Uber Furry, Panda the Schizophrenic, and the newest edition, Merlin. Merlin is the one who hung around my wife's old place hoping to be fed, and judging by his waistline, my wife and half the neighborhood tended to his culinary tastes. He seems to like the echoes in the house at night, as he likes wandering around giving loud vocal news and commentary.

Never a dull moment....

While the cats have accepted that I'm not going anywhere, they are naturally more attached to my wife. It's entertaining watching this tide of fur follow her around the house. If I'm in my room and she comes in, within five minutes there will be a minimum of four cats poking around. When she leaves my room, they tail behind.

My wife also loves birds, and fortunately for everyone's sake, the cats are strictly indoors so the worst they can do is sit in the windows watching the birds in the garden saying, "neener neener, you can't get me." There is an amazing variety of very colorful birds in south Texas; red cardinals, blue jays, hawks, crows, sparrows, chickadees, mocking birds, doves and woodpeckers. We think a lot of them next in a large oak tree next door, (and it will be a shame when that lot is finally built on as the tree will have to go or it'll be in the middle of someone's living room). But they come to our yard to take advantage of the several feeders.

We also have a family of squirrels who kept raiding the bird feeders until we started putting out corn and other goodies just for them. Not that they pay attention to what is theirs and what belongs to the birds, they still just grab what they want.

There is at least one other critter that has burrowed under the fence on both sides of the house. Not sure what it is, though possums and racoons are in the area. Then today I found some odd animal droppings in the back yard. There were a lot of seeds meaning the critter was a vegetarian, (though it also could have just eaten a vegetarian), plus from the size of the droppings it was no dainty little thing. However the burrow under the fence isn't that large, and I can't think of anythng that could have scaled the fence. There is a gap in the fence courtesy of Ike it could have possibly squeezed through, but the gap is not large enough for an animal of any consequence to get through.

There's always the possibility of space aliens, though in Texas they run the distinct possibility of becoming the main course at a barbecue.

Maybe it'll show itself eventually. Just as long as it isn't something that will require me to carry firearms before going out back, it's perfectly welcome to visit.

Pardon Me For Breathing

2009-04-17T17:00:00.000-07:00

The EPA announced today that they want to regulate the so called "greenhouse gases", you know, the favorite bogey man of the envirosheeple. This shrill group believes if they are loud and obnoxious enough, that they'll scare people into giving them what they want, power, publicity, and above all, money. While of course there are many legitimate environmental organizations who have done tremendous good setting up recycling programs, providing education on efficient resource use and responsible land use, they have been overtaken by the alarmists whose primary motivation is making huge amounts of money. The only "green" they're interested in is what is in their wallets.

What a shock, people perpetuating a scam to make money. Climate change has happened before and will happen again. And again. The American Southwest, Sahara Desert, even Antarctica were once thriving subtropical environments. Likewise much of North America has been covered in deep ice many times in the past. Change happens, it always has, it always will. The earth is a dynamic system and doesn't sit still for anyone. Another example, Greenland didn't get its name because Erik the Red was so color blind he mistook its ice cap for forests. Nope. Around 1000 AD that part of the world had warmed to where Greenland's ice cap had retreated, allowing trees to grow on the coast. And the amazing thing is CO2, everyone's favorite whipping boy as the cause of climate change, wasn't the byproduct of any of the sources that emit it today.

There weren't any cars, no coal burning power plants, no nothing. So why was the earth warmer? Because there is only one source of heat for the earth, the sun, and back then it was getting a little frisky. The most visible and measurable sign of solar irradiation is sunspots. Enough data has been collected so it is possible to extrapolate backwards for many centuries sunspot activity. The more sunspots, the more energy emitted by the sun, thus the more heat received by the earth. CO2? Irrelevant. For a start, everytime we exhale we're giving off CO2. Green plants take this CO2, and convert it back to oxygen. It's called photosynthesis, something every high school student knows at least the bare rudiments of.

And the sun? Right now it is in a quiet period and has been for several years. But the alarmists won't acknowledge that. Instead they carefully pick out data that can be twisted to support their theories, and the scarier the theory, the more likely more people will be persuaded or coerced to giving them grants and donations. However, the earth is a very complicated collection of ecosystems. Temperatures fluctuate, some areas go through warming trends, others go through cooling trends. The same with precipitation, droughts such as what California is enduring are not a global trend. Just ask anyone who lives in Washington about the abundance of precipitation they've received this past winter.

Another example. Some are shrieking that climate change, (amazing how "global warming") is no longer the buzzword since so much evidence has debunked that idea), will lead to more frequent and intense hurricanes. In this past year, three hurricanes painted bullseyes on Texas. One of them. Dolly, was a Category 2 at it's peak while churning in the Gulf of Mexico, and while still destructive when it made landfall, it had weakend to a less dangerous Category 1. Gustav and Ike were Category 4 at their peak, but as bad as the were, Ike especially, they were down to Category 2's by the time they hit Texas. The reason? Hurricanes need warm water to feed on. The northern part of the Gulf of Mexico was several degrees cooler than in past years. In 2005, the year of Katrina and Rita, it was warmer, allowing those storms to retain more of their energy at landfall.

And just why had that part of the gulf cooled off? Who knows? Will it continue? Again, who knows? Can the climate be accurately predicted for 20, 30 or 50 years out? It can't even be predicted accurately for three days out.

However, it's looking more and more like there will be regulations on CO2. This is one of the ultimate fantasies of the government, regulations on your breathing. The more ambitious bureaucrats must already be dreaming of the ultimate, regulating the sun.

Now excuse me while I hold my breath so I don't get slapped with a violation and fine.

At Least My Car Is A Texan

2009-04-14T14:29:00.000-07:00

In California you register your car and get your license renewed at the Department of Motor Vehicles. This is the place where you go in, fill out some forms, wait in line for ten years, step over the bodies of the people in line in front of you who died of starvation or old age, then finally get to the front in time for a surly clerk to say you filled out the wrong form, forgot some other vital paperwork, need a DNA sample to prove your identity, or leave your first born for collateral. And if you don't have a first born, decide which limb you can most easily live without.

Texas is a little different. I have yet to experience DMV, but to register your car you need to go to the local tax office. I was stuck in line as expected, but for maybe fifteen or twenty minutes. I then spoke to a pleasant woman who took care of everything, and at the end I was surprised to be handed my registration sticker and new license plates.

Having proper Texas plates will make me feel a little less conspicuous. California has a well earned bad reputation for rudeness, arrogance, and being way out of touch with reality, and I kept feeling having their plates on my car was akin to painting a target on it. I'm not sure what to do with the old plates, though borrowing my neighbor's shotgun is sounding like a good option.

My only disappointment was not being given a pair of longhorns to attach to the front of my car. But to be honest, I'm not sure longhorns on the front of a Toyota Corolla would look quite right.

Speaking of shooting, how about that amazing display by the Navy SEALS in rescuing Richard Phillips? First of all, Captain Phillips is to be commended for volunteering to be a captive so his crew could go free, and then trying to escape. That is one brave man! And then there's the SEAL sharpshooters firing three shots, at night, at a small boat that was probably bobbing in the water. The result? Three fewer pirates, one rescued hostage.

You can be almost certain there will be a movie made of this. And for once there will be no need to embellish anything, it was dramatic enough from start to finish.

Can We Be Civil?

2009-04-10T22:19:00.000-07:00

I stopped listening to talk radio sometime ago, and now restrict who I read for political opinions. The reason isn't because I want to stick my head in the sand and ignore the world, it's because intelligent, civil discourse is sadly a thing of the past. In an effort to grab attention and therefore ratings and sponsors, pundits of both the left and right keep lowering the bar of frothing at the mouth rants until that bar is underground.

I find the pompous, ill informed Rush Limbaugh to be little more than a boring blowhard. I've never bothered with Sean Hannity. Ann Coulter is just plain mean spirited and nasty, besides being an anorexic crone, while I will admit Michael Savage's rants are captivating in the same way as viewing a car wreck, you just can't tear yourself away. There's also the perverse interest in when one of his apoplectic ravings will result in an on the air aneurysm. The left also has their share of boorish cretins. Can anyone say Michael Moore?

My own views are mostly centrist to fairly conservative. But try to find someone who can state their views in the media no matter what their leanings are without resorting to childish tantrums and name calling. This started back when Bill Clinton was in office. One would think he had cloven hooves and had replaced the presidential seal in the Oval Office with a pentagram from listening to talk show hosts at the time. Personally I thought he did some good things, starting with actually balancing the Federal budget. The Monica Lewinsky scandal was the result of the arrogance and bad judgment that so often comes with power. He could had headed off the impeachment if he had just levelled with his family and the country at the beginning, but he foolishly fell into the trap the leaders of the Republican Party had set out.

The left got their revenge with George Bush. I still feel the Iraq war never should have been fought. The 911 attackers were based in Afghanistan, and that is the country that always should have been our military focus. I had many other disagreements about his policies, but the attacks on him personally did nothing to resolve any issues facing this country.

And now the same thing is going on with Obama. I have major reservations with his policies, starting with his assumption that the government will solve everything, especially the economy. He's only been in office for a few months, yet already pundits are openly accusing him of being a fascist and comparing him to Mussolini.

Excuse me? Obama equals one of the most brutal dictators of our time? I don't think so. He comes across as a decent guy, and he is trying, though it is way too early to tell how effective of a president he'll be. But openly hoping he will fail as Rush Limbaugh has stated is the height of idiocy. A failed presidency is a failed country.

What people are quick to forget is Obama was legally elected. If you voted for him, fine. If you didn't, deal with it. If you abstained from voting for a presidential candidate as I did, still deal with it.

And when I do want to read the opinions of others, I've found the best collection of intelligent, reasonable writers can be found in the Washington Post. They cover the spectrum from left to right, with most being somewhere in the middle. For outstanding writing, the best in my opinion is George Will. You often need a dictionary to decipher his expansive vocabulary, and I admit there are many times I disagree with him. But he does his research, forms his arguments logically, and states his opinons without personal attacks. He's no fan of Obama, but he doesn't think he's the Antichrist.

At Least The Wheels Were Round

2009-04-09T18:34:00.000-07:00

I've only owned four cars in my life, a 1971 Mazda RX-2, a 1974 Mazda RX-4, a 1985 Honda Civic and a 1993 Toyota Corolla. I have a lifelong fascination with cars, but obviously when it comes to actually owning one, I don't place a lot of value on having the latest and greatest. Of the four, my favorite was the Civic. It was a hatchback with an amazing amount of space, easy on gas, (it averaged almost 42 mpg on a cross country trip), very reliable and the handling was phenomenal. Unfortunately my ex wife drove it into the ground, and with her driving style, that was almost literally.

The two Mazdas were early rotary engine models, fun to drive but reliability left something to be desired. I sold the RX-2 to my dad, who found his mechanical skills came in handy enough to keep me from being written out of the will. The RX-4 was better, though it eventually became the guinea pig for learning the basics of auto mechanics. I learned how to rebuild carburetors, (yes, cars actually came with those at one time), change brake pads, and scour junkyards for spare parts. Because I swear Mazda sold maybe nine RX-4's, most auto stores didn't stock many spare parts.

My biggest worry was coming out of a junkyard to find someone canabilizing my car thinking it was part of the trashed car collection. It's nickname was &!@#$*^ (not going to translate, gotta keep this blog at least PG rated), in its later years. I finally donated it to Salvation Army, and I swear on all that is holy only three weeks later I saw it being driven in Fremont. I just hope it hasn't followed me to Texas.

My current ride is the Corolla, which continues to perk along quite nicely. When I do finally replace it, I'll probably look at another Toyota since I've had very good luck with this one.

Some ask if I would think of buying an American design.

Probably not.

I've had several GM, Ford and Chrysler cars for rentals over the years, and in general they do not overly impress me. GM cars especially seem to have the right pieces at least, but not enough of them. For example, I recently had a Chevy Cobalt for a week. The car had good power, decent handling and brakes, and seemed rather well built. But the seats provided little lower back support, meaning it got uncomfortable after an hour or so. GM's other idea for a small car is the Aveo, which I thought was atrocious, cheap and made no bones about it.

GM does make some good cars, and the Corvette is an institution. But a small, well built economy car that doesn't feel cheap is not one of their offerings. They are also way too slow in reacting to the marketplace. While car sales for everyone is down, companies like Toyota and Honda can take solace in knowing if sales of say the Avalon, Tundra and Maxima are off because gas is too expensive, they can fall back on the Corolla and Sentra to keep them going.

GM on the other hand keeps on churning out huge SUV's in hopes the fickle tastes of the public will change before there's too much of a glut of these behemoths on the market. And when that doesn't happen, they don't have much of a fall back plan. Now they're pinning hopes on the Volt, an upcoming plug in hybrid management is convinced will save the company. Several problems, first it's going to be expensive, average price will be close to $35,000. Second, I think it's shape is hideous. More importantly is its technology is a huge gamble and may not work that well in real world conditions. The lithium batteries it will use produce a lot of heat, so they'll have to be well shielded. Finally, no one knows yet just how economical it will be. It just may get amazing gas mileage, but that could be canceled out by the amount of electricity it'll need to be recharged at home.

Also, Toyota and Honda are also working on plug in hybrids, and could launch them in time to steal the Volt's thunder. Still it is an intriguing concept, but GM's desperation that it will be the savior of the company could leave people too cynical to give it a chance.

But even though it is very unlikely I would buy a GM product, (or Chrysler or Ford, though I love the looks of the Mustang), I want them to succeed. The ripple effects of one or more of them going under would be devastating to an already shaky economy. But it's up to the companies themselves, and not the federal government, to make the adjustments needed. That means getting products out that are more flexible in meeting the demands of the marketplace.

I'm now thinking of the future, like maybe five years from now when the merger of Chrysler and Fiat produces a redesign of the Dodge Charger... on the Fiat 500 chassis. Now that I would buy!

Slogans

2009-04-04T21:08:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday my wife and I attended the German Heritage Festival in old town Tomball. This area was settled in the late 1800's mostly by German immigrants and their influence is still seen today, mostly in place names. I imagine there were some cultural adjustments when these folks found themselves in Texas though. "Ja, this strudel tastes awful with barbecue sauce, and what do you mean you're not supposed to yodel while calling out a square dance?"

We had a good time, and also got our ears talked off by a railroad enthusiast at the restored Tomball rail station. I've always dreamed of building a model railroad, but despite the house being a decent size, it would involve sacrificing a room. Plus it isn't a cheap hobby. So I'll just keep that dream only a dream.

One thing I learned is Tomball has an official slogan, "Hometown With A Heart." That's a nice slogan, and appropriate for this town. Despite rapid growth and ambitious future plans, the idea is for Tomball to be prosperous but not lose it's small town feel. That means keep the relaxed pace of life, the friendliness, and good manners people tend to show.

This had me thinking of the last place I lived in, Redwood City, California. I've never been in such a pretentious, sterile, lifeless city in my life. It's official slogan is, "Climate Best By Government Test."

What the hell is that supposed to mean? Best I could find out is it was the outcome of climate tests run by the government during World War I. Redwood City was supposed to have an ideal climate. Ideal for what was never revealed, but then we are talking about a government study and they're not supposed to make sense.

I think something more appropriate would be, "Sitting On The San Andreas Fault Waiting For The Big One," or "We Can't Have A Heart Because Larry Ellison Is Here."

Twelve O'Clock High

2009-03-18T20:12:00.000-07:00

A few miles from me is Hooks Airport, a rather good sized municipal facility that caters mostly to private planes, but is large enough to handle corporate jets. So it's pretty common to hear planes overhead, with the occasional helicopter. I've always loved airplanes and enjoy watching them in flight. This past Saturday we had a special treat. The Collings Foundation, http://www.collingsfoundation.org/menu.htm is an organization dedicated to purchasing and restoring to flying condition rare aircraft from bygone eras. This is a group passionate about preserving aviation history, and more than willing to share it with others.

So my wife and I headed over on a chilly, overcast day to take part in aviation nostalgia. Parked at Hooks were WWII relics, a B-17 and B-24 bomber, and TF-51 trainer version of the famous P-51 Mustang. For a fee you could climb inside the bombers and be transported back in time. The weather was appropriate, as it was often wet and dreary at bases in England, where young men were preparing for dangerous missions that would make them old men by the time they got back. The two bombers were especially impressive. Though state of the art at the time, it was clear that inside they were cramped, uncomfortable and noisy.

It was something standing behind a waist gun, pointing it at the sky and trying to envision the fear of a man perhaps only a few months removed from his home, family and sweetheart While trying to steady his nerves he knew deep inside with each mission the odds were mounting against his survival. Yet he knew his job, and was determined to survive. He knew at any minute, the enemy's young men would skillfully fly nimble fighters to try to shoot his plane down. Young men who also knew their job and were determined to survive. Young men he didn't even know would be trying to kill him, young men he would quite probably enjoy the company of and become friends with if it wasn't for the insanity of their leaders inciting them.

It is possible to arrange for rides in these planes, but unfortunately the fee is out of my budget. But it's something I know my Dad would have enjoyed. Though he flew in B-29's, he knew quite well about the B-24 and B-17. I could imagine him entertaining the pilot with stories, and then announce, "Let me show you how to use the Norden bombsight." Supposedly the most accurate bombsight ever invented, it was claimed you could aim a bomb so it would drop inside a pickle barrel, though why anyone would consider that to be a target is beyond me.

Then knowing my dad's sense of humor, he would have then muttered something about arming the bombs on board then bringing out his list of various miscreants he wanted to pay a visit to.

Readers Comments

2009-03-14T21:49:00.000-07:00

No, not on this blog, though I've been tempted to write a bunch myself to make it look like someone is actually reading it. But then again I'm not looking for fame or fortune. My motivation for starting a blog is simply to have fun and express whatever comes to mind at the moment.

And at this moment it's some observations on online news. In particular, my favorite part of online news, reader comments on stories. In the past, the only way to express your reaction to a news article was to write a letter to the editor, then hope that editor would see fit to put your missive into print. Granted what was often published was complete nonsense, but you could then proudly point to your local newspaper and say, "See, I just made a complete fool of myself in print!"

With the advent of the Internet, most online newspapers now allow anyone to make a comment. The beauty of this is you don't have the agony of spending hours writing a letter to the editor then never seeing it because let's face it, a newspaper receives hundreds of these letters each day, and can only print a few because of space limitations.

A comment could also be made about the space limitations between the ears of many letter writers, but that's besides the point. Now, thanks to technology, it is possible for a single story to have hundreds of comments. Meaning every crackpot and cynic can now share his or her opinions with the world.

Which is why reader comments are usually the most entertaining part of reading the news.

Today the Houston Chronicle has a story on Russia possibly basing bombers in Venezuela and Cuba. Considering most of the bombers left in their inventory are old, slow and lumbering, but still impressively large, it looks like if this happens it will be for political and propaganda reasons. In other words, nothing to lose sleep over. However, a couple of readers had an interesting exchange:

America's day of reckoning is underway... it obvious to anyone whom has been in military intelligence that the Russians are restaging another invasion of America.

Am I missing something or did I sleep through the last Russian invasion of America? The next commenter set things straight:

Hey, take your Yankee butt back home no true Texan would be worried if Russia Invaded it would be an opportunity for target practice.

Only a real Texan can cut to the chase like that.

Randomness

2009-03-11T21:31:00.000-07:00

... which explains my thought process much of the time. While it is possible for me to concentrate on the task at hand, (or in the case of my latest hobby project, building Revell's immense and impressive U.S.S. Constitution, the task is bits and pieces that mysteriously vanish when I need them, more on that later), quite often I find my mind drawn off in tangents. I've always had a vivid imagination, and many times wanted to either daydream of engage in some activity such as writing, painting, or model building rather than what I was doing at the time. Since the task interfering with what I really wanted to be doing was usually work or school, my flights of fantasy were hardly practical.

When I was working evenings and weekends were looked forward to with great enthusiasm as it meant the time and freedom to pursue more creative ventures. Now that I'm retired, I view each day with the same enthusiasm. Yet even now there is a balancing act. After the first month, I started feeling an emptiness, that I had outlived my usefulness in some capacities. When I was at EPA, I was a database administrator and ran the show. I had national recognition, respect, and truly enjoyed my work.

Once that was gone, I felt adrift in some ways, as my career was something I had built on my own, and it gave me a badly needed focus. Fortunately, I've found new activities, one of which is a continuation of my career, to fill that void. I started my own company to contract out my data management services, and just a week ago signed my first contract. It's a good feeling to be continuing the work I liked, and of course getting paid for it is also good motivation! I'm also taking a class in 3D modeling at Lonestar College in town. I love computer graphics, and while I can manipulate preset models to my liking, I've always been interested in creating my own from scratch.

So far the results are not exactly world beaters, but I'm learning the basic concepts and will be able to pick up more and more with experience. The only down side is the software I'm learning on, Autodesk's 3DStudio Max is very capable, but if I want my own copy it will cost four thousand big ones. I'm looking for cheaper alternatives naturally.

I also got back into model building. I had built several wood model ships when I was back in California, but didn't have the space to build or display any aircraft or anything else. So now that I have that room, I've gotten back into what unfortunately is a shrinking hobby. Too few youngsters these days have the patience or desire to build anything. But I still enjoy it. One of my prize possessions from the past was the Constitution. My Dad built one years ago and thoroughly enjoyed the challenge. I yearned to try it myself, then finally got up the courage to try. It was frustrating at times as the kit has a multitude of tiny parts, plus being plastic it was fragile. Plus it is easy to warp the masts when rigging.

But it was a great lesson in concentration and perseverence. I kept my random thoughts while working on it to fantasies of leading it into battle. Alas, I ended up leaving it behind when I moved out of my townhouse in Fremont, and I can take for granted it did not last long afterwards. So shortly after moving to Texas I mail ordered a new one, and relived the pleasures, and patience trying frustrations, of building it again. And it is turning out rather well. It'll never win any competitions, but I'm satisfied with it. The only sad part is wishing I could once again call my Dad to share our experiences in building it.

After it's finished, I'll take a break from ships to tackle some airplane projects. Of course I'll have to discipline myself to do this at an appropriate time, while working on a paying customer's project is not a good idea if I plan on staying in business.

But there is one other item I must add, the most important part of my life, the constant encouragement, stimulation, and love from my precious wife.

Independent By Choice

2009-02-17T20:18:00.000-08:00

"They [political parties] serve to organize faction, to give it an artificial and extraordinary force; to put, in the place of the delegated will of the nation, the will of a party, often a small but artful and enterprising minority of the community"

This quote from none other than George Washington perfectly summarizes my opinions of political parties. They are by nature divisive and self serving, which is why I refuse to join any. As I've stated before, for almost 25 years I've registered to vote as an independent, or as California puts it, "Decline to State." This does not mean I won't vote for anyone who is not running as an independent. I've crossed party lines more often than not, basing my vote on the candidate. And if in a particular race I do not care for any of the candidates, I'll write in "None of the above."

If political parties must exist, I would prefer to see three viable parties instead of the current morass of only two. With three parties of more or less equal representation, there would have to be compromise, statesmanship, and negotiation to get things done. With only two parties, it is too easy for one or the other to gain too much power and shut the other one out. This is what happened with the Republicans under George Bush, and now the Democrats are looking for payback. And who suffers? The American people.

The economy is a disaster, and the poorly thought out, pork ridden stimulus package is not the answer. I can speak as a government employee for 34 years, that depending on the government to solve our problems is not a good idea. While the vast majority of government workers are intelligent and dedicated, they have the luxury of knowing most of what they do will be funded, and their paychecks will always be there no matter what. This is why I always set artificial deadlines to keep myself motivated. If I missed one there would have been few consequences. But that went against all my ethics.

But for almost every other citizen, there is the pressure of if their business or employers do not do well, there are no paychecks. Period. That unfortunately still hasn't stopped greedy CEO's from raking in millions as their companies lay off thousands of employees. For the rest, who do not have golden parachutes, there is the fear of if they'll even have a job the next week.

So what is the answer? I honestly don't know. Stricter government oversight to regulate predatory loan policies would help, though it's a little late now. Helping those truly in need, for example, someone recently laid off from work who is falling behind on their mortgage, (fixed rate only, anyone who took out an ARM gets what they deserve), is a good start. Regulating lending practices is another thing that should be done. Loans for energy research and production is another worthy goal, but for energy production that actually works. Solar and wind are expensive, inefficient and impractical on a large scale. France generates 76% of their electricity from nuclear plants with an excellent safety record. Granted more research needs to be done on handling nuclear waste, but the French realize that and are doing much in that regard.

But dumping $781 billion dollars that must be borrowed from not always friendly foreign nations on questionable projects? That brings out the cynic and skeptic in me. President Obama is understandably under tremendous pressure to do something. But I would prefer a more cautious approach.

Domestic doings

2009-02-15T19:39:00.000-08:00

Summer in south Texas is comparable to the third circle of Hades, a delight if you are in air conditioner sales, but sucks if you are outside otherwise in the middle of the day. Coming from the temperate Bay Area, this coming summer will be a major adjustment for me. One thing in my favor is having lived through several summers in Washington, DC, another place where you wonder if from June through September there is a living creature outdoors. DC doesn't get quite as hot as the Houston area, but the humidity is as miserable.

Fortunately, Fall, winter and Spring are generally pleasant down here, and you take advantage of the nice weather whenever possible. So Sunday morning my wife and I decided to do some gardening. Our back yard has a sound wall with sod planted up to the wall itself. My wife, who has a green thumb, (mine is only green if I'm getting sloppy with a project involving green paint), laid down several rolls of a special paper that will smother a strip of grass before the wall, then we dumped pine bark mulch on top. She had already planted several bushes, one grape vine, (my idea, CalTex Vineyards has to start somewhere), and a Crepe Myrtle.

For a border, we decided to used the leftover stones used for part of the facing on the house. The builders left these stacked in the garage where they were just taking up space. Jayne unfortunately tweaked her back pretty badly, so it was my job to handle the stones. Fortunately we have a rolling cart the stones could be piled in. Unfortunately, they weigh a ton... each. But I finally got them out, and arranged, trying not to have a tantrum when Jayne wanted a few moved to make the arrangement more symmetrical.

The result is terrific though. But I was having a flashback, wondering if in a previous life I was a laborer building one of the great Pyramids. I had a brief vision of Charlton Heston saying, "I may only be a slave now, but my God will rescue his people and smite thee, then He will part the Red Sea and let us escape, then make the sea drown Pharaoh's warriors. And it will be written I will win an Academy Award, then become head of the NRA and pray at the altar of Smith and Wesson."

Anyway, I certainly got my workout, and the amount and weight of the stones I moved will of course be growing the more I talk about it. But next weekend, no moving of anything, except for ourselves to the airport. We're going to Florida for a couple of days, so I can meet more members of Jayne's family. She has an aunt and uncle there she is close to, plus her parents will be there. I am glad this is not hurricane season, as Georges chased me out of Florida in 1998. But I am checking the forecasts from the National Hurricane Center just to be safe.

What He Wishes He Could Say

2009-02-09T19:18:00.000-08:00

I caught part of President Obama's press conference tonight. Part of it was pushing his stimulus plan, (something that could smother us with all the pork written in). He was then asked about talks with Iran. This of course is a country run by narrow minded religious zealots with their loudmouth puppet President, Ahmadinejad being their public face. I was surprised at Obama's answer. Not so much what he said, but how he seemed lost as to what to say and was far from articulate. That had me wondering, he may have been trying to sound diplomatic, something a President must strive towards, and was afraid of saying the wrong thing. So just for fun, I imagined a press conference where the President is allowed to say what he really feels:

Mr. President, what do you intend to do about Iran? Will you still talk to them?
First we'll nuke them back to the Stone Age, then convert the survivors to Scientology. After that we can have a little chat with them.
Mr. President, when the Republicans had the majority in the House and Senate, and controlled the White House, there were many complaints about partisanship. Now that the Democrats are in charge, will there be a change to bipartisanship?
Paybacks a bitch, isn't it?
Mr. President, how well are you working with Nancy Pelosi?
And they called Bush dumb?
What will you do about global warming, sir?
Folks in the Midwest want it to hurry up and get here.
Mr. President, how would you view our relationship with the press so far?
Next question, jackass.
Mr. President, your brother-in-law is the men's basketball coach at Oregon State. Any chance the two of you could play a little one on one at halftime of a game?
Sure, just as soon as I can convince him Kobe Bryant and Lebron James really are part of my Secret Service detail and have to be on the court with me.

Bit Of A Political Rant

2009-02-04T19:57:00.000-08:00

I have to give President Obama credit for admitting he "screwed up" in not forcing Tom Daschle to withdraw his bid to be secretary of Health and Human Services. But it was bothersome Obama kept saying beforehand that he "absolutely stood by" Daschle despite his serious tax evasion issues. Loyalty is a commendable attribute. Daschle has long been an Obama supporter, and Obama felt he owed support in turn to his friend. However, to be President also means there are times feelings of loyalty must be set aside, and without reservation.

This was an issue during the campaign when Obama waited a very long time before distancing himself from his hate spewing minister Jeremiah Wright. As President one has to be ruthless and make hard decisions without being afraid of offending someone, even someone who has been a loyal associate for a long time. Perhaps Obama can learn when he needs to be ruthless, but I'm afraid he is too nice for his own good.

In an earlier blog, I wrote how I wrote in "None of the Above" as my choice for President during the last election. I saw John McCain as a man who had served his country well and honorably, who was perfectly suited for the Senate, but not inspiring the confidence of leadership I want in a President. Obama came off as also perfectly suited for the Senate, and the type of guy you'd love for a next door neighbor. But his lack of decisiveness in the Jeremiah Wright case took him out of the running in my book.

I am registered as an Independent, and have been so for the last twenty five years. I rarely vote for the major parties as they are both incompetent and corrupt to the core. Unfortunately, the political system in this country makes it nearly impossible for a viable third party, preferably one close to the center instead of liberal or conservative, can exist. This means many of my votes are protest votes, something that I will continue.

Obama may learn on the job and be an effective leader, but he is handicapped by an economy in freefall, and having to deal with some of the well entrenched characters in Washington. At the top of that list is Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi. To say she's as dumb as a box of rocks means feeling obliged to apologize to every rock I see. My favorite sayings of hers are how we need to "Use more natural gas and get off fossil fuels," (hey doofus, natural gas IS a fossil fuel), and how she wants her congressional committees to have "More women and minorities." So whatever happened to just selecting the best people no matter their race or gender? I have reservations over some of Obama's appointees, but he has selected some good ones, and without regard for filling some type of feel good quota.

It's going to be an interesting four years.

Davy Crockett Was Here

2009-01-23T19:46:00.000-08:00

Where I now live, Tomball, is a fairly small town of about 12,000 souls. Well, make that bodies associated with the souls, as a town of souls only poses some issues. For example, souls don't eat, so heading out on Saturday night hoping to find a good steak would be rather futile. But anyway, the town was once much smaller. The original area is known appropriately as Old Town Tomball, and features a number of antique shops, (a staple of any self respecting Texas town), a restored rail depot, and my wife's favorite, the Lighthouse Chocolate Store. Yes, it is store that sells chocolate and is shaped like a lighthouse. That's the store with that shape, not the chocolate. Tomball is, however, about 50 miles from the coast, so why a lighthouse? Who knows? But it sure looks cute.

One store that caught my fancy is Bob's Wild West. It has an amazing collection of vintage firearms, knives, books, stuffed hunting trophies, (elk, wild boar, a stray Winnebego with Arkansas plates), all those things that made the Old West, well, wild. My only experience with firearms was skeet shooting with a now ex brother-in-law. I blasted three clay pigeons and scared the rest. Too bad my lousy aim didn't make my ex brother-in-law ex that day as he turned out to be a jerk, but details. But I'm still interested enough in firearms to tell say a musket from a machine gun.

This store caters to collectors, though many of the pieces for sale could be displayed in museums. The owner is an interesting sounding guy named Bob Platz who is an avid hunter, and a talented artist. He looks like the type of guy who could regale you for hours with Texas stories, some of them even true.

But back to the collection. One group is guns owned by actual Texas Rangers, and I don't mean the ones who pretend to pass as a baseball team. I asked if there were any used by Chuck Norris, and was politely told no. I've often wondered what real Rangers thought of Walker, Texas Ranger, and while the show portrayed the Rangers in a very positive light, they must wonder why Chuck never had to do any paperwork.

I would like to go back, and do some more perusing. I do wonder if any guns used at the Alamo have passed through the shop. It would be fascinating hearing what type of authentication could be done on a gun with such a claim. I assume walking in with a claim you just found Davy Crockett's rifle in your attic would be met with more than a taste of cynicism.

Vista Still Sucks

2009-01-09T21:52:00.000-08:00

Time for a short technology rant. A little over a year ago, in other words long enough for the warranty to have run out, I bought a snazzy laptop from Hewlett Packard's website. I primarily used it for business trips while I was with the EPA, since the government issue machines I would have borrowed otherwise would have made any self respecting paperweight sneer in disdain. It came with plenty of speed, storage, memory, nice sound, graphics, even a built in card reader for a digital camera memory stick and a webcam. Unfortunately, it also was burdened with Microsoft Vista.

Vista is Microsoft's attempt to make a computer look like Mac's OS X. And while it does look nice, it lacks a couple key features of OS X, speed and stability. There's also the compatibility issue. In order to get some of my work software to... well... work, I had to download and install Virtual PC from Microsoft. To their credit, Virtual PC does work rather well. I was able to use it to set aside a part of the hard drive to accept Windows 2000. I could then install my older work software in the 2000 partition. Switching between 2000 and Vista was actually quite easy.

Alas, Vista was still a resource hog, though after some research, I found some tweaks that substantially improved the performance. So despite some lingering annoyances, I was able to treat Vista for what it is... an operating system.

Until two days ago.

A downloaded Vista update went badly, and I started getting the feared "Blue Screen Of Death". This is not a good thing, and has been known to make users perform acts of depraved violence on inanimate objects, like their computers. This phenomena has also lead to spikes in Mac sales, and wondering just what this Linux thing is all about.

Anyway, I tried restoring the computer to earlier dates when everything worked, tried deleting the errant Windows update that I'm sure was causing this disaster in the first place, then finally decided enough was enough, time to use the System Recovery files to restore the machine to its factory fresh configuration. Fortunately everything I had on the computer was backed up, so nothing was lost.

Except...

The System Recovery files were defective. The restoration would crash at certain point and refused to continue. Perusing some forums with my other computer revealed a number of angry to plaintive missives from other HP laptop owners with the same issue. So a couple of calls to HP were in order about my options. "Adolph", (kind of a strange help desk name for someone in India, where as with many other companies HP has there call center), was convinced it was the motherboard. I don't think so. A second call got "Rex", who deduced the original System Recovery files were at fault. He sent me a link to get a dvd with replacement files. Being impatient, I went with the Fed Ex overnight option for delivery.

Fortunately, the replacement files did the trick. My laptop lives again, though I now need to reload my software and files once again. And since there is a good chance I'll be traveling again with my future consulting business, I will need a functioning laptop.

And if they weren't so blasted expensive, a Macbook would be given serious consideration. Oh well, hopefully the HP will behave from now on. However, Vista still sucks.

Why Are All The Good Scams Taken?

2008-12-26T19:53:00.001-08:00

As part of my daily entertainment, I faithfully peruse the online edition of the San Francisco Comical... err Chronicle in hopes of finding some absurdity that makes me glad I'm no longer in California. And almost without fail something will pop up with the ease of oh say breathing. Usually this will involve the latest foibles of the envirowacko movement. The wide eyed members of this group being led by cynical manipulators who exploit them for publicity and above all, money.

But are these manipulators dangerous con artists or simply brilliant business people? I think a combination is more accurate. In this case, just pepper your speech with the latest buzz words, "climate change", "green", (I'm really starting to hate that color), and "carbon footprint", and the envirosheeple will not only bleat along with you, but will be more than willing to part with their hard earned cash to keep you in the lifestyle they claim to disdain.

Anyway, the latest is a plan by a company in San Francisco to set up kiosks in the SF Airport that first allows you to calculate the dollar amount of the carbon dioxide that will be emitted during your upcoming flight. You can then use a credit card to purchase a carbon offset that this company in theory uses to invest in various projects such as renewable energy ventures, (which means that oil well I was digging in back yard may as well be converted into a swimming pool), and methane capture, (though how you fit a catalytic converter to a cow is beyond me). And of course every cent earned by these kiosks will be used for noble causes like this, except for those earnings that will mysteriously vanish into Cayman Islands banks.

If all of this isn't an obvious scam then nothing is. So why is the San Francisco Airport going along? With air travel down they need to get revenue by any means, and the folks running these kiosks are of course going to give the airport a piece of the action in leasing costs.

My only real problem with all this is that I didn't think of it. And somehow trying to set up a franchise at the Houston Airport doesn't seem like the best idea. Texans have more common sense than that.

Still Among The Living

2008-12-21T21:48:00.000-08:00

After almost two months in Texas, I think I've settled down and adjusted pretty well for the most part. As expected, my consulting business has been slow getting off the ground. I have some good contacts from my previous job and from those some leads that are promising. But this being the holiday season people are going to have other priorities than water quality data management. I'll get serious about drumming up business after New Years.

Speaking of which, a slight digression to software. As a reward for using Earthlink, (sometimes referred to as Missing Link or Weakest Link, though overall as an ISP I can't complain), I was able to get Net Objects Fusion 8 for a pittance. It may be a version behind the newest and shiniest, but for features and ease of use it's light years ahead of any HTML generator I've used in the past.

Ok, back to miscellaneous ramblings. My wife is really into Christmas, and she's getting me more into the spirit this year. I imagine finally having my own home again, and a very nice one, plus living in a warm and cosy atmosphere does purge one of Grinch like qualities. We put some lights up outside, and at the risk of mass feline induced destruction, decorated inside.

For her present this year, I got her a complement to the house she got for Valentine's Day. My budget for the rest of my life is shot anyway because of that, so I did the logical thing and got her a better car. Her Ford Focus was becoming like an ice sculpture, nice to look at but fragile. We did some checking, and went to Carmax, (where ironically she had bought the Focus), and found a 2002 Toyota RAV4. It's a handy size with room for her saddle and other horse riding gear, decent on gas, rides and handles well, and best of all, isn't likely to have annoying and expensive mechanical issues for some time. At least that's the plan. My hope is it won't have anything go wrong for at least the five year loan.

As for me, I've put a little over 300 miles on my still trusty Corolla since getting here, so that isn't exactly wracking up the miles. And that's 300 miles of local driving. This is Texas after all, and even in this small town things are a little spread out. I still need to get the registration changed over, though I rather enjoy the perplexed looks of locals seeing my California license plates and then the Texas State Troopers stickers for supporting their charities.

Go Bears!!!!

2008-11-22T23:09:00.000-08:00

Thanks to the wonders of technology, I was able to watch a live streaming broadcast of The Big Game. And if you have to ask what The Big Game is, may you be forever banished to the hinterlands of downtown Berkeley, to spend the rest of your life panhandling with the now former Treesitters. In their wisdom, ABC decided that the broadcast radius for the game would be a block or so surrounding Cal's stadium, since of course the rest of the country wanted to snooze through Penn State's beat down of Michigan State. However, our decision to go with AT&T as our Internet provider is turning out to be a better one all the time.

A little side benefit is free access to ESPN's 360 package, and one of the offerings was ... The Big Game. So my lovely wife barricaded me in my room for the duration. The game was exciting, and since Cal won, most satisfying. But it was kind of a bittersweet experience, since I had a ticket to the game but had to sell it since of course I would be long gone from California before game day. This is part of the adjustment to my new life, knowing there is much I had to give up.

I was also spoiled on being able to buy any computer components whenever I wished. Tomball has an Office Depot, but their offerings are pretty basic. Fortunately, my favorite place to shop, Central Computers, does mail order so all isn't lost. Still, I do miss browsing through their stores, and then talking myself out of building yet another computer just because I can.

But overall I'm quite content in Texas. I do need to get out more, explore more of the area, and then look into opportunities to meet and interact more with people, such as take a class or two at the community college, or start training at one of the martial arts schools in town. If a day comes when I find myself talking exclusively to the cats, and even worse, understand what they're saying in return, that will be the sign I really should get out of the house a bit more often.

Settling In

2008-11-07T18:32:00.000-08:00

This is my first entry from my new home in Texas. While that may not be as significant as say The Second Coming or even more important, Cal Is In The Rose Bowl!!!, it does mean I survived the long drive from California. Actually the drive was pretty relaxing, though tiring. Starbuck's Frappuccino (with the resulting need to navigate by distance between rest stops), kept me reasonably alert. Except for the area around Flagstaff, the scenery didn't exactly inspire the creative muse. But I encountered little traffic, which was the main rationale behind my route. Speaking of which, I really should take a cruise down old Route 66 sometime.

My car was pretty well loaded down, but it breezed through with only a few additional rattles and squeaks. Today UPS arrived with the last of my worldly posessions. Note for the future, if I ever need to ship anything, do NOT buy boxes from Office Depot. The ones I got barely made it intact, despite my using enough tape to prevent a respectably sized nuke from exploding.

It's still an odd feeling being in my new house. I keep thinking I'll need to start packing to head back to California soon, and if I start any household projects, that I need to rush them to completion. I guess that's normal after spending 50 years in the same area. Texas is my home now, my real home, and my house is my own, I'm no longer borrowing space in someone elses.

Speaking of which, as I expected my envirowacko ex landlady is trying to cheat me out of my security deposit. She's extremely vindictive, but I'm confident her nastiness will be her undoing. But she's insignificant. Right now I have the house of my dreams, (and SO much nicer in every possible way than the ex landlady's dump), and I'm living with the woman of my dreams. My annuity will easily cover my expenses, though I'm hopeful I'll soon be able to get my consulting business going.

I think I'm going to love this place.

Winding Down

2008-10-26T19:08:00.000-07:00

The day is fast approaching when I'll be doing my final packing then starting the long drive to Texas. Since being a worrywart keeps me going, my latest paranoia is whether my car will make it without adventure, mostly of the mechanical kind. Long drives and plane flights are two areas where my sense of adventure takes a holiday. The duller the better.

In the meantime I'm finally realizing there are many places and activities I've seen the last of. Yesterday I went to the Cal - UCLA game, and between cheering my Bears on, I kept getting flashbacks of the moments I've witnessed in Memorial Stadium since my first game back in 1974. The great names, Steve Bartkowski, Chuck Muncie, the very courageous and talented Joe Roth, Wesley Walker, Russell White, Marshawn Lynch, Desean Jackson, and giving credit where it's due, great players of Cal's opponents, like Marcus Allen and Warren Moon. Then there's bands, Cal's is usually ... well, at the risk of sounding disloyal, ok. USC's is wonderfully pretentious and incredibly dull, UCLA's is honestly quite good, and Stanford's is consistently awful and a major embarrassment.

And the games! Despite Cal's sad record of long stretches of mediocrity interrupted by teasing moments of glory, there were many memorable ones. I must admit I missed "The Play" because of being bedridden with the flu, though I did listen live to Joe Starkey's immortal broadcast. There were the sadly rare but immensely satisfying wins over USC, including the triple overtime thriller from 2003, and the comeback against Oregon from 30 points down in 1993.

I'm definitely going to miss the atmosphere, raw emotion, and excitement of going to Cal games. Fortunately I ordered a sports package with my TV service in Texas that carries Cal whenever they're televised. Otherwise on Saturday I'd be calling AT&T and whining, "What is this nonsense? I want to watch Cal and all I can get are these teams from Texas?"

None Of The Above For President

2008-10-12T09:15:00.000-07:00

I just got my absentee ballot in the mail and dutifully filled it out. For the state propositions, (first please explain why a state 17 Billion in debt wants to issue over 40 billion worth of bonds), I voted No on the majority. The exception is those I feel would help California continue to sink into its well deserved abyss of financial ruin.

Since I'm thankfully leaving this area, I left the local candidates blank. For Congress, my political leanings are more Libertarian, so I decided that candidate couldn't do any worse than the others.

This brought a dilemma for President. I can't stand the Libertarian candidate, Bob Barr, who in his previous political life as a Republican was a ringleader for the contrived impeachment of Bill Clinton. As for Barack Obama and John McCain, I can't vote for either of them. The two major parties are incompetent, self serving, and corrupt to the core. They need to be shaken up by a viable third party that will draw enough votes to make sure there will never again be a majority party in the Senate or Congress.

Only then will you see real compromise and negotiations instead of partisan bickering. As for Obama and McCain, I am not impressed with either one. Obama seems like a decent guy who speaks well, but he does not inspire me as someone with the will and decisiveness to lead the country out of the unbelievable disaster George Bush leaves behind. As for McCain, of course he is someone to respect and admire for persevering through the horrors of being a prisoner of war in Vietnam. But in the Senate he has unfortunately shown he is just a prone to being influenced by rich lobbyists as anyone, and Sarah Palin as Vice President? Please!!! Not that Joe Biden is much better.

Whoever gets in will still be hamstrung by the economic, political and moral destruction of Bush and Cheney. Who in their right mind would want this job? Someone will get elected, and then wonder why they ran for office in the first place.

As for the remaining choices, the remaining third party candidates are absolute jokes. Ralph Nader? He ranks with Al Gore on the top of my list of people I wish would just go away. American Independent Party? Way too right wing. Green Party? My idiot very soon to be former landlady is an ec0 freak. Enough said.

So what will I do? Something I've never done before in a presidential election. I will write in a candidate, None Of The Above.

Hanging On Update

2008-10-03T22:09:00.000-07:00

I just got back from Houston, having decided to make an impromptu trip after my business dealings in Hawaii were over. Jayne was able to phone a couple of times from her cell to say the house and tree were intact. Several other trees in the neighborhood weren't so lucky, but fortunately none of them decided to become one with anyone's house. Still, it was pretty traumatic for her, especially being without power for six days. Fortunately we have gas for the stove and water heater, plus the water stayed running, so she was able to shower and cook.

Since Houston was still having issues with flooding and power outages of its own, I flew into Austin and rented a car. Conveniently, the power came back on at the house before my arrival. I may never hear the end of how I was in California when Jayne moved into the new house, Hawaii when the hurricane hit, and still elsewhere when the power came back on. So I have good timing...

Anyway, the week in my real home, and not at the hated temporary lodgings in California, was an excellent preview of life after I move down for good next month. Jayne got up to go to work in the morning while I lazed in bed, then got to be domestic while she was at work. I put together some furniture for my den, or Man Cave, and unpacked the boxes I had shipped earlier. That was good for my psyche as it made the house feel like it really is my home since it now has my own little touches.

The cats enjoyed having someone to follow around all day. We really bonded when I fed them and scooped their litter boxes before Jayne got home. Actually that further strengthened my bond with Jayne since she feels any man who will scoop her cats litter boxes is definitely a keeper.

Crossing The Rainbow Bridge

2008-09-13T01:10:00.000-07:00

In a couple of early blogs, I talked about Squeak, my Siamese cat, who was diagnosed a year and a half ago with Chronic Renal Failure, or CRF. I decided to treat her as long as she had a good quality of life. This meant daily subcutaneous fluids, watching her diet, and a steady dose of anti nausea and antacid medications. Despite all this, she remained the loyal, sweet natured, and very affectionate cat who had wiggled her way into my heart many years ago.

Before I committed to this Hawaii business trip, I found an excellent pet sitter, Jan's Pet Sitting
to look after her. Jan had looked after Squeak in the past and I was very impressed with her professionalism and genuine love of animals. Squeak had developed along with CRF, Lymphoma and a stubborn bladder infection. But Jan was still willing to look after her.

Then yesterday morning, Jan called with the very sad news that Squeak had passed away during the night. Apparently the stress of her ailments and her age, 17, was too much for her heart. While it was not unexpected, it was still a shock, and agonizing because I wanted to be with her at the end. I am thankful the end was quick and peaceful, and that she was not in any pain. But it will be painful personally to return and not see her in the room I'm currently renting, or hearing her, especially considering how vocal she was.

She was a link to my life in California, and more importantly my only reliable day to day companion for several years. Some talk of cats as aloof creatures, but Squeak hated to be away from me. When I did have a trip, business or personal, she made it a point to chew me out when I got back with her loud and expressive meow. Then she would curl up next to my shoulder when I was about to go to sleep at night to say all was forgiven. She was so tiny she would bat her head against my shoulder from time to time to remind me she was there.

I'm having her cremated, then I can keep the box with her ashes with me at all times. But her memory will never fade. And someday I will see her again. Because I am a firm believer special animals have spirits, and when their physical form leaves us, they cross The Rainbow Bridge.

Hanging On

2008-09-11T22:32:00.000-07:00

Sunday I started a long planned two week business trip to Hawaii. Don't laugh, there is actual work that needs to be done there. As luck would have it, Hurricane Ike decided to end its odd meanderings and paint a bullseye on Houston. Unfortunately, our new house is going to be affected b y high winds, though fortunately it is far enough from the coast to avoid storm surge.

Unfortunately, Jayne has to pray that not only does the house hold together, and being well constructed it should, but that the pine tree out back decides to remain vertical. With the house's orientation, I'm hoping the winds will blow either away from the house towards the tree, or at worse, parallel to the tree and house.

We're also hoping the tree will be grateful we spared it when we could have ordered it removed and will stay put. There's only one other house on the block, and the neighbors have already graciously offered to let Jayne stay with them if she gets too nervous from the storm. For that I'm very grateful. And once again it points out one of the differences between Texans and Californians. Texans will look after each other, Californians will only look after their selfish selves.

If need be I'll cut the Hawaii trip short to get to Houston any way possible, but for now all I can do is keep monitoring the news reports and hope for the best.

Epidemic Of Stupidity

2008-08-27T19:12:00.000-07:00

I just got back from Texas, where I finally got to see our new house. And it is gorgeous! It’s very well laid out, beautifully appointed, nicely decorated, (thanks to Jayne of course!), and has lots of room. Even the cats are wandering around more or less stress free from not feeling crowded. The development is still slow to get filled in; indeed there is only one other house on our block. I’m trying to figure how to slyly move the fences a foot or so out each night until we can claim our entire side of the street as our property.

But unfortunately I had to return to California, and today was an event in wondering if aliens were secretly absorbing people’s intelligence while I was gone, which was all of three days.

Case 1. I got a call from my office manager saying she was trying to process my trip to Hawaii in a couple of weeks. She couldn’t find the airfare or even any evidence of the flights. Since that is a long swim, I logged onto the website of our new contractor for travel to see what was going on. I first glanced at the printout I made when I arranged this trip almost three weeks ago. Yep, there were the flights. Since then, the flights had mysteriously disappeared. After the required cussing, I edited my arrangements to get the flights put back on.

Now I realize my office’s budget would make panhandling profitable, but if it looks like travel now excludes how to actually get to one’s destination, there may be issues.

Case 2. My monthly train pass for September is almost two weeks late in coming. I called a nice lady at Caltrain who said she’d mail a replacement. She then called this morning saying the letter with the original pass had just shown up on her desk with an “Address Not Found” stamped on it. Funny, one of my housemates also gets a monthly pass, and hers showed up on time. Then again, the mail carrier in my neighborhood isn’t the sharpest tack in the box. At least once a week mail arrives for any given house in a two-block radius. I’m starting to dread what will happen when I put in my change of address for Texas. I suppose they’ll insist on international postage before anything gets forwarded.

Case 3. My envirowacko landlady wants to use used water from the washing machine for her landscaping. Never mind the landscaping makes you prefer the bareness of Death Valley . But the point is she wants her tenants to use only generic brand detergents in the belief that they won’t contain any whiteners, or other life threatening chemicals. You know, the chemicals that actually get your clothes clean. Well…. For a start, generic brands mean they are the store’s brand, such as Costco’s Kirkland brand. And for the most part the ingredients are exactly the same as those in name brands, like Tide. But never confuse an enviro with the facts.

Case 4. While on the train, the woman in front of me was getting upset because she couldn’t get any additional airflow from what she swore was the air vent over her seat. One little point, light fixtures don’t usually emit air.

Words To Never Use Together

2008-08-09T21:31:00.000-07:00

One of the classic TV shows of all time was Rocky And Bullwinkle from the early to late 1960’s. With enough slapstick to keep children entertained, it also wove in adult oriented political satire. And with the Cold War at its peak, there was plenty of material to poke fun at. Who can forget Boris and Natasha, the spies convinced the ebullient Rocky and somewhat slow thinking but kind hearted Bullwinkle were bearers of America’s deepest and darkest secrets? Bullwinkle usually unwittingly foiled their plots, but they always returned with even more nefarious plots.

One episode in particular stood out, not so much for the story but for Rocky uttering a terrific line, “Military intelligence, isn’t that a contradiction in terms?”

That line can be expanded to include customer service, or lack thereof. There are many organizations whose name should never be used in the same sentence as service. A very recent example is a certain cable company known as Comcast. Just the other day, Jayne moved to our new house. Despite tropical storm Eduaord paying a wet and windy visit, the movers showed up on time, nothing got wet, and later on AT&T appeared to hook up the phone.

Once the phone was working, Jayne discovered she had several messages from Comcast, who was also scheduled to hook up the cable for the TV and Internet. Since Jayne has a second job that is web based, it is essential she has reliable access.

No luck.

Comcast claimed because of the weather they couldn’t come out. Funny how no one else had that problem. They then said they couldn’t make another appointment until next Monday. This means she’ll have to drive into Houston Sunday and use her work computer to get anything done. Repeated calls to Comcast have resulted in a different story each time. No they never had her scheduled in the first place. Oh yes, she was scheduled but they’d give her priority in case another customer cancelled their appointment. Well, maybe that would happen. Maybe it wouldn’t.

Maybe the problem is the idiocy of local communities granting cable companies monopolies. No competition means they can do whatever they please and charge whatever they please. Until someone with authority to do so wises up and opens up cable systems to competitors, customers are basically screwed.

Yesterday Jayne said she passed a Comcast truck parked on the side of a road with the driver looking like he was fast asleep. We’re betting anything if Comcast actually shows up Monday, (meaning she needs to take an extra day off work), that this individual will be the one they send out.

Bars In Every Room

2008-08-02T23:36:00.001-07:00

A couple weekends ago, I brought my wife to San Francisco for a combination birthday get together with my local family members and to play tourist. As much as I despise living in San Mateo County, I enjoy the rest of the Bay Area, San Francisco especially, the exception being the yuppified financial district. That, unfortunately, has turned into San Mateo North, complete with the rudeness, arrogance and self absorption.

But enough of that. Because of the smoke from the still burning fires, we opted out of spending a day in Monterey. So we did one of those touristy things, the type you keep telling yourself to do but never get around to until you have out of town visitors. We went to Alcatraz.

I vaguely remember a breakout in 1962, followed by the prison closing a year later. Clint Eastwood dramatized the breakout, which I’m sure didn’t involve anyone who looked a bit like him. Plus he had the option of actually leaving when shooting was done for the day, and without the risk of actually being shot in the process. The place’s other claim to fame was an 18 month long occupation by several American Indian groups who actually had some legitimacy behind their claims that Alcatraz belonged to them via a treaty. Such a shock that treaty was conveniently ignored later on by the government.

While the occupation didn’t yield Alcatraz to tribal control, it did raise public awareness of conditions on Indian lands, with a result of substantial improvements and better relations between the tribes and the federal government. The present situation of course is far from perfect, but overall is better.

But it is the notoriety as a federal prison for the serious bad boys that made Alcatraz so infamous. It is a windswept rock, and would be almost completely barren except for the gardens planted by the prisoners. The freezing water and strong currents of San Francisco Bay kept all but the bravest and or most desperate from trying to escape. Seeing the lights and attractions of this vibrant city only a mile and a half away was the cruelest punishment for the inmates, much crueler than the tiny, stark cells, stripping away of your identity and freedom, and the constant threat of violence that wracks all prisons. Criminals were there to be punished.

Another punishment, and while it may not have been quite as pronounced when the prison was in use as opposed to today, is the eau de seagull. There were thousands of them wheeling about, and not being potty trained, their marks were literally everywhere. We ended up trying to stay upwind as much as possible.

Several of the buildings are now in ruins, which adds to the mystique. They gave the impression of sets from a horror movie, and you have to wonder if several ghosts are wandering around.

I did wonder if I was a prisoner just how I would have escaped. I figure it would either be by hopping on the back of a wayward humpback whale, (everyone in the Bay Area remembers Humphrey, who proved that even among such highly evolved and intelligent creatures as whales you’ll get the occasional knucklehead), or lassoing enough seagulls to be airlifted to freedom. We’ll ignore the little fact that seagulls do not fly in flocks and a group are as apt to go in the same direction as a herd of cats.

What's Hiding In The Attic

2008-07-21T21:56:00.000-07:00

While sorting through my belongings in preparation for my November move, I sometimes run across an oddity or two that has me thinking, “When did I get this, and more importantly, why?” That got me to thinking even more, (a dangerous activity in its own right), about some items I could have fun with if I encountered them, and even more so if they actually existed. Think of the possibilities if buried in your life's treasures was s box full of baseball size canisters labeled “Small Scalable Thermonuclear Device (SSTD).”The only settings would be the size of the explosion, from say a minuscule .001 kilotons, (useful for serious gutter cleaning), to a more respectable 1 kiloton, (effective for clearing out late staying guests at a large and unruly party). Of course the other setting would be a timer allowing you to be safely out of the way so you can enjoy the aftereffects from a safe distance.

Personally, I can think of many uses for such a device. For a start, though I am a lifelong Cal football fan, I would still refrain from tossing one into the huddles of the opposing team since I do believe in fair play and sportsmanship. However, halftime shows at Cal by either the University of Southern California or worse, Stanford, marching bands would be short lived, and would bring thunderous applause from almost everyone else at the stadium. As an aside, I remember talking to a USC fan once who confessed their own band drives their fans crazy by playing the same song every fifteen seconds during a game. Stanford's band meanwhile has the distinction of not only being a total embarrassment to what even the most diehard Cal fan will admit is an outstanding academic institution, but they bear the stigma of being what must be the only college band to have once been banned from their own stadium.

Another use, instant large scale barbecue. Why fiddle and fuss with a grill when you can pile all the food in a barbecue pit, toss in an SSTD, (don't forget the proper settings or your neighbors won't be amused, though if you hate your neighbors just pass it off as a little oopsie), and in a flash, literally, everything is cooked to perfection. Just be careful if the source of your steaks is still on the hoof and the rancher who owns them employs sharpshooters beyond the range of your SSTD.

You can also use them for instant respect. Say you find yourself in a rough looking bar. On your left a tough looking character pulls out a knife. On your right an even meaner looking dude is polishing a .357 Magnum. Casually take out an SSTD and set it in front of you. You'll never have to pay for a drink again.

The uses go on and on. Removing tree stumps. Removing whole trees. Removing whole trees and tree sitters, (what a wonderful thought for the ones still infest Berkeley). Digging out the hole for a swimming pool. Better yet, digging out the hole for an oil well considering current prices. Playing fetch with a neighbor’s nervous, yapping, peanut sized dog. Applying a permanent solution to your computer after the over seas call center gave you bad advice, (sending one to the overseas call center might have some nasty political ramifications however).

Oh the possibilities.

Enlightenment Through Dim Sum

2008-07-16T20:45:00.000-07:00

One thing I will genuinely miss about San Francisco is Chinatown. Every sense of the human body is constantly stimulated by even a casual stroll through it. I have a passion for Chinese art, and after a bit of poking past the rather tacky touristy offerings, have found shops selling genuine supplies as well as excellent art works. The food shops are something else, offering fruits, vegetables and meat, fish and poultry that are amazing in their variety, even if I don’t have a clue as to what most of them are.

For eating establishments the area can’t be beat. My favorite is a Dim Sum place called the Hang Ah. A friend and I discovered it, tucked down an alley, back when we were in high school. He lives out of state now but still visits at least once a year. So when he does, he head to San Francisco on a gastronomic pilgrimage.

Dim Sum consists of many small dishes of pork, vegetables, egg rolls, and my favorite, Pork Bows which is a soft bread stuffed with sweet and sour pork. Washing it all down is an unlimited amount of jasmine tea brewed with loose tealeaves. The place itself has a plain brick exterior, while the inside has a linoleum covered floor, plastic chairs, and Formica tables that look like they came out of the 1950’s. Considering when you walk in you are greeted by a glass case with an ancient newspaper article and folders about the 1959 Miss Chinatown contest and it’s almost eerie in its old fashioned atmosphere.

You almost expect these shadowy figures lurking in the back tables, casting wary eyes on potential murder suspects, smugglers, and other nefarious characters. Like the waiter who always had a pair of chopsticks in his shirt pocket with notches in them. Were they some type of secret code? Or were they reminders of his victims, those who dared to cross him, or worse, stiff him on his tip.

But none of this has any effect on the food, which is best described as delectable and delightful. There’s no pressure to eat fast, instead the atmosphere is designed for leisurely dining. A few years back my friend and I went afterwards to the Asian Art Museum. There was a display of porcelain Happy Buddha’s. We decided they had reached the rapturous state of enlightenment, inner peace, and complete happiness from having eaten at Hang Ah.

Hipocrisy

2008-07-03T22:03:00.000-07:00

Time for a rant...

The best way to spot a hypocrite, one who should have a t-shirt emblazoned with the word and town criers leading the way when they go down the street calling, “Make way for the hypocrite,” is for that person to give themselves a label. Certain labels are ways that the weak minded make themselves feel important, since that’s the only way they can identify with anyone or anything else. A true rational person takes an idea, analyses it without prejudice or preconceived conclusions, and is prepared to alter his or her opinions based on facts, not hype.

Perhaps the most misused label is “environmentalist.” At one time it meant a true lover of nature who was interested in preservation not just for the sake of it, but also because of the ecological value of an area. This person realized clean water and air, safe disposal of toxic wastes, efficient use of energy, and reasonable recycling were not only good for ones health but also made economic sense. A healthy population is of course going to be more economically viable than an unhealthy one, and for businesses efficiency in manufacturing reduces costs and increases profits. Less land and resources are needed, which allows more preservation of open space, parks, and wilderness areas that are vital for healthy ecosystems. As for alternative energy sources, these create more business opportunities while reducing America’s dependency on foreign oil.

The true environmentalist will practice his or her beliefs by their lifestyle. This doesn’t mean living in caves, (or trees if in Berkeley), bathing only once a week if that, and subsisting on tree bark and dirt. This person will tell others about efficient recycling and energy use, healthy eating, and the need for ecological balance. But this is done without preaching or taking on a “holier than thou” attitude. Instead they teach by quiet example.

My high school biology teacher, Ken Teberg, was a perfect example. He taught his class how to incorporate sound environmental principles into their every day lives. We came to appreciate and understand nature, while at the same time not looking at life’s conveniences such as cars and electronics as evils. Balance was and is the key.

Unfortunately, environmentalist has more recently come to signify zealots who cannot be reasoned with. They are determined to undermine society and enforce their own radical agenda of no development, no growth, and forcing governments and businesses into unnecessary spending and regulations that result in little gain. And their reason? In part they are some of the most ignorant people I know. But for many, it is a shrewd way to stroke their egos and make money. They see the attention they get through fear mongering of an unsuspecting public. And while some piously claim to be following an ascetic lifestyle, many others rake in the money that duped individuals and groups who should know better, donate.

An acquaintance in my office loves trumpeting she’s an environmentalist. But here are some facts. She is into solar power. Ok, no problem with that though it’s still very expensive and impractical on a large scale. At the same time she goes ballistic at even the mention of an oil company and heaven forbid you even say the word nuclear in her presence. Yet that didn’t stop her from driving a gas guzzling SUV for many years. Fact two, she wants to conserve water. California is currently experiencing a significant water shortage, and granted rainfall has been below average the last couple of years. However, the same environmentalists such as this acquaintance were frothing at the mouth in anger at even the suggestion of the state building more reservoirs to hold sufficient water to compensate for these situations.

She also proudly claims she only showers once a week. The held noses of anyone around her are proof of that. But at the same time she has an uncovered swimming pool that annually loses thousands of gallons in evaporation.

Fact three, in winter she refuses to turn on the heat in her house, and instead uses an indoor fireplace when it gets cold. This is an old fashion brick fireplace that is not only extremely inefficient at heating, but is a major contributor to indoor and outdoor particulate matter pollution. This is a major health hazard. Anyone experiencing the ongoing effects of the fires raging throughout central and northern California knows what I mean. It’s the exact same effect.

But disagree with her and you are greeted with hateful looks and an attitude you are the devil incarnate. Needless to say I’ll be very happy to leave her behind, and then forget she ever existed, when I’m gone from California.

Wild Blue Yonder

2008-06-28T00:07:00.000-07:00

I’ve long been fascinated with airplanes, going back to some of my earliest memories when I was four, and living in Albuquerque. In World War II, my dad had been in the Air Force, (or to be technical, the Army Air Force as it wasn’t a separate service back then), and there must have been times when he showed me photos of various aircraft, usually military, in books and told me their designations. That must have stuck, as I remember him taking me to an air show at the Kirtland air base in Abluquerque and me being able to identify several types on sight. My favorite was the B-36 bomber, one of the largest and most distinctive looking planes ever built. It was huge by any standards, and when you’re only four it’s even more impressive.

Other times we would go to the civilian airport, (which was adjacent to the air base), and sit on an adobe wall to watch the planes come and go. Those incidents sparked a life long interest in aviation and aviation history. Although my mom had her reservations the first time I actually flew.

Her father in Indiana was very ill, so mom flew back to be with him at the end. Since I had never met him, she took me along. I’m sure if they knew the circumstances, people in the airport would have thought that was a sweet gesture, taking a little boy to meet his grandfather for the first and sadly, last time.

Well, that was until we were getting ready to board. This was back in 1958, and the first jet airliners were coming into service. I spotted a gleaming Boeing 707 outside a terminal window, and asked mom if we could fly on it. She said no, and pointed to our plane, a propeller driven Lockheed Constellation. But I was persistent. So was mom. So I pitched a temper tantrum. Back then the pilots often greeted passengers as they were getting ready to board. Mom still reminds me of the glares she was getting from ours as I screamed, ‘I don’t want to fly on the old rattletrap, I want to fly on that new jet."

At this time I was a much more mature five year old, but still concepts like flight schedules, etc., didn’t come to mind. So mom reluctantly dragged me on board anyway. My mom doesn’t drink but she may have been sorely tempted that day.

Later in life I would take myself to air shows and was delighted that a job assignment to Washington, DC in 1990 meant easy access to the Air and Space Museum. But the ultimate aeronautic experiences were the pair of trips dad and I took to the Air Force Museum in Dayton, Ohio. If it had flown in the Air Force, it was represented, including the first B-36 I had seen since Albuquerque. And yes, it is still a very impressive plane.

But the highlight was a display of the B-29 bomber of the type dad flew in during the war. In addition to a complete famous one hanging from the ceiling, there was an open fuselage you could walk into. Dad became like a kid in a candy store. He dashed from station to station, pointing out what was what, and then sat in his radio operator’s seat. He got this far away look as though his old crewmembers had reappeared. He would mention them by name, “That would be Roy from New York in the navigator’s chair, and Tom from Ohio was our pilot.” Then his voice would tail off, and he added, “This sure brings back some memories.”

These were memories I could scarcely comprehend, never having even being in the military let alone combat. But the emotions in dad's face and eyes at those times were overwhelming, and you know they went to the depth of his soul.

An Appropriate Name

2008-06-25T22:08:00.000-07:00

Do you ever wonder where old technology goes to die? You don’t? Well why not? “2001: A Space Odyssey,” proved machines have souls, or at the very least can sing off key. Although unlike HAL, most modern machines only sit silently when they malfunction instead of politely refusing a command with an, ‘I’m sorry, Dave, I can’t do that."

Considering the useful life of items like computer components and cell phones is about 15 minutes between their time of sale to when their replacements are on the shelves, there is a glut of technology that is still useful, but alas because of real or perceived obsolescence is unloved and unwanted. Fortunately there is a place in the Bay Area where they can go to live again. It’s an appropriately named store, well, more of a cluttered warehouse, called ‘Weirdstuff."

I discovered it by accident in the late 1980’s while actually trying to locate a Fry’s Electronics. The name drew me in, and it did not disappoint. I was delighted to find old game cartridges for my TI-99/4A, old pc software, (remember when Microsoft Works fit on a pair of floppy disks?), and a barrel of circuit boards labeled… “Barrel of Boards.” Who couldn’t love a store where most items were labeled with a garish orange sticker emblazoned with “Guaranteed Not To Work. If It Does, You May Exchange It For One That Doesn’t.”

There was much more than just computer components, the place was an electrical engineer’s heaven. You could get oscilloscopes for a few dollars, mounting racks for a mainframe computer, (all true Americans need a mainframe), testing meters of all types, enough cables to sew the San Andreas Fault closed, and at one time something my dad would have loved, a vacuum tube tester. Dad was an engineer, and felt in many ways a lot of technological progress was more hype than real advancement. He was ticked when the only store in town with a vacuum tube tester got rid of it as he would have gladly taken it off their hands. I wonder if the one in Weirdstuff was the same one.

Dad was always building things from scratch, more often than not just because he could. It’s a shame he left California for Indiana before Weirdstuff opened, or he would have pitched a tent in their parking lot to live in. And what he would have built would have been staggering. I imagine he would have started with a bunch of robots with the sole function of terrorizing mom’s dog. After that he would have added more robots to keep some neighbors and assorted relatives to keep honest.

And of course they’d use vacuum tubes.

Just Don't Tell Them Jerry Garcia Is Dead

2008-06-19T20:33:00.000-07:00

While I didn't graduate from there, one of my fondest college memories was the year I spent at UC Berkeley. One of the finest academic institutions in the world, it is an amazing place. I still return several times in the Fall to attend football games, though until Saint Jeff of Tedford arrived six years ago to rescue the team from the demons of mediocrity, (and last year's second half of the season collapse was merely a test of faith, order will be restored this season... I hope!), the stadium was a wonderful place to get away from it all on Saturdays.

With Tedford came success, with success came large crowds at the games, and a realization that Cal, (the official name, UCLA is the barely tolerated younger brethren down south), had athletic facilities most junior high schools would sneer at. So a fund raiser was started to build a state of the art facility to safely house and train not only the football team but teams from many other sports, both men and women's. A site was chosen next to the stadium, and since much of the facility would be underground it would blend perfectly with the hillside the stadium is built into, making everyone happy.

Not so fast.

This is Berkeley, home of the Free Speech movement of the 60's and still populated by a large group who would protest against Santa Claus for being an oppressive white male paying substandard wages to overworked elves while engaging in animal abuse by forcing innocent reindeer to haul this heavy sleigh around the world. So almost as soon as the plans were revealed, the protests started.

First was a ragtag group who called themselves the Save The Oaks foundation. It would be necessary to remove about 40 oak trees to build the facility. Mind you, these oaks were planted at the same time the stadium was built in the early 1920's. Never mind that they are a very common species of oak and that as part of the construction plan the university would plant three to replace every one that would be cut down. Letting facts get in the way is not the modus operandi for extremists.

A group of cretins... errr... dedicated environmentally aware activists... nah, call it like it is, cretins, built platforms in the trees and lived in them to bring attention to the fact that they are a bunch of idiots. Their claims that the site was an ancient American Indian burial ground, (claims pushed by a phony with the fake name Running Wolf... evidence is mounting he is not an Indian at all and is an insult to them), that the oaks are part of an endangered wildlife preserve, etc. are of course completely false.

But it was entertaining for a while. Granted most of the "Tree Sitters" were only there to be fed by their equally brain dead supporters on the ground. Otherwise they'd be back on the streets of Berkeley panhandling and making a complete nuisance of themselves. But while in the trees one got to meet such scintillating characters like "Redwood Mary", "Millipede", and everyone's personal favorite, "Dumpster Muffin". Now dumping all of them in the nearest dumpster does sound like a great idea.

In the meantime several lawsuits were filed against Cal to stop construction, for no other reason than for the residents of the city to be their usual anti development, anti progress, anti everything out of general principle royal pains. The judge's recent decision was almost completely in the university's favor, so it can be expected that construction of the athletic facility can finally start before much longer.

I'll only be able to attend a few games this season before moving to Texas, (and if Comcast's sports package doesn't let me continue watching them on television blood will be spilled). I won't miss the Tree Sitters, though fans from visiting teams will miss out on a true Berkeley experience. I'll never forget overhearing a fan last season when Cal played Tennessee saying, "This is better than going to the zoo." Then there was the Cal fan calling out, "I'm buying drinks for any of you Tennessee fans who brought your hunting license and shooting iron."

Gas Pains

2008-06-13T23:08:00.000-07:00

California loves to pride itself on being a leader, and in areas such as the entertainment industry and technology, that is true. The exception with technology is in customer support, but that will be the subject of another entry. Unfortunately, California has the honor of also being a leader in government idiocy, (Berkeley's City Council being the prime example), obscenely overpriced housing, (the recent drop in these prices not being nearly enough to make this state a desirable place to live), and now gas.

Despite claiming to be so into public transportation, California is as car crazy as any other place in the country. Now in Texas, a car is a necessity. This isn't just because no matter where you buy a house everyplace you need to get to conspires to be 500 miles away. Well, for the most part it is a pretty flat state so things tend to get spread out. But the other reason is take a glance at the weather report for any given part of the state in July and then decide if you really want to take that bicycle farther than the end of your driveway.

Gas is steep there, just like everywhere else, but in the Bay Area it is usually 30 cents a gallon higher than the national average. Considering the number of refineries in this area, that has never made any sense. The excuses for these prices seem lamer by the day, my theory is plain old price gauging because those in the industry and government, (yes that means YOU George Bush, Dick Cheney and the rest of you Haliburton weenies), can rake in more obscene profits.

Though speaking of which, if I had known six months ago this was going to happen, I would have bought a dozen or so Toyota Prius's then kept on jacking the price up as gas prices kept rising and SUV owners became more desperate. But not having a crystal ball means another brilliant business plan shot to heck.

But on a personal note, I'm still planning to drive to Texas when I make my big move in November. My vehicle of choice is "Phydeaux", my faithful 1993 Toyota Corolla. It may have picked up a few dings over the years, but it starts up every morning and more importantly still averages close to 34 miles per gallon. Though if gas goes up much more by then, like 50 cents a gallon while I'm still filling my tank, I'll ask if instead of the extra landscaping at my wife's and my new house in Texas if we can get oil drilling equipment.

What Guys Read

2008-06-10T20:24:00.000-07:00

Time for a quick literary review, of the type of literature guys love but English teachers hate, the "male adventure story" genre. Actually, this is something with many female fans, especially if the writer is Clive Cussler. My dad introduced me to his books in the early 80's when he gave me a copy of "Raise the Titanic" and said I might enjoy it. Since I read it in one sitting, you can say I did.

Since then I've ready everything he's written, 35 novels and a pair of non fiction works on shipwreck hunting. Why is he so popular? I'd say because his books are entertaining, pure and simple. You can always count on some fascinating historical tidbits, hi tech, beautiful women who are also smart and strong, (this is one of the reasons so many women love his books), while the heroes are smart, tough, yet also respectful to women. Of course the villains are rich, ruthless, power mad, sometimes just plain mad, but always dangerous. Throw in plenty of fights, narrow escapes, imaginative chases, exotic locations, romance and you have ask what more could a guy want?

You also have to like the interactions between the characters. One of my favorite exchanges was when told about a plan, the reply was, "If it's sneaky, devious and dastardly, we're in."

But there is a bittersweet feeling when a new book comes out. For years I always bought the latest one as soon as it came out and sent it to dad as either a Father's Day or birthday present. One year, Clive was autographing "Inca Gold," (often considered to be his best), at a bookstore in San Francisco. I was honored to meet him, and got the impression he is a modern Renaissance man who could converse well on almost any subject. I sent the autographed book to dad, who acted like I had sent him the Holy Grail.

Ok, now back to his latest, "Plague Ship", co-written with Jack DuBrul, who is another excellent adventure writer. And since I'm on the train, I just may not mind if it has another breakdown.

Home On The Range

2008-06-07T23:01:00.001-07:00

The worst thing about a long distance relationship is, of course, the distance. Since getting married last October, my wife Jayne and I have had exactly six days together. Granted this is something we’ve long accepted and know will be ending early November, but it’s still a burden.

But one bright spot is when I finally do move it will be to a brand new house. After a fair amount of searching, and enjoying the tours of several model homes, we found a new development only a couple miles from where she lives now. It’s upscale, and far beyond anything either of us thought we would ever be calling home. It has four bedrooms, two baths, industrial strength air conditioning, garage with an extension for a workshop, combination of tile and hardwood floors, humidity control to go along with the air conditioning, granite countertops with tile splash in the kitchen, air conditioning that could freeze Hades, marble countertops and showers in the bathrooms, a jetted tub in one bathroom, and a Tuscany style interior with large windows and more arches than the Roman Coliseum. And did I mention it comes with a great air conditioner?

And the price? Let’s just say I delight in the screams of anguish from Californians who would be lucky to get a studio condo in a bad neighborhood for the same price. Jayne is already working on the décor for the house, and she has excellent taste. Left to me it would have the look of a garage sale gone bad. But I will have the Garage Mahal to call my own, providing I can figure how to make it bearable in summer. Plus I’ll have one room reserved as my office, or Man Cave, where only the bold dare set foot. Jayne gets the rest of the house as compensation.

Technorants

2008-06-06T21:40:00.000-07:00

I’ve been fascinated by computers since my first one, a humble Texas Instruments TI-99/4A given to me as a gift ages ago. My work machines were usually more capable, but had all the excitement of… work machines, designed for function and little else. And with the “help” of my office’s IT Department, it’s been more little else than even function.

I try to keep up on the latest in hardware and software, but often times have to wonder if some of the latest “advances” are more the result of bored engineers and developers trying to justify their existence. I find it pretty irritating to get a new version of software I’ve become quite comfortable with, only to find the bright and shiny new product is slower, more cumbersome, and more error prone than what it replaced. Worse, inevitably a feature I liked has been otherwise omitted or hidden.

Case in point, Vista. I started my computer career with dumb terminals, (and no comments about the operators of said terminals please), hooked into a mysterious IBM mainframe across the country. Said mainframe was very fast, crunched an amazing amount of data, and had all the excitement of an abacus. So it was very disappointing when IBM produced their first personal computer. It was relatively fast, crunched numbers well, but in effect was just a shrunken head version of their mainframes. Even the operating system was almost the same.

Fast forward to Microsoft’s attempts to make the computer more usable and interesting by mimicking Apple with Windows. In each version the computer became easier to use, and blatant copying of Apple’s innovations was purely intentional. Unfortunately this came without the stability of Apples. I was convinced a feature of Windows 95, was the wonders of the BSOD, (Blue Screen Of Death).

But with Windows XP, Microsoft pretty much got it right. It was on the whole more stable than previous versions and even pretty much forgiving of the torture my machines endure. So naturally they decided to replace it with a new version, Vista. Fortunately I knew enough to tweak it so it could do more or less what I want. But it’s still slower than XP. At least I found out how to turn off the very annoying User Access Control,(UAC), that constantly pops up with “allow or deny” every time you attempt to install or remove software. UAC is also the initials of the bioengineering company in the DOOM games whose creations run amok creating havoc everywhere.

I find this strangely disturbing.

All The News That Fits Or Gives You Fits

2008-06-05T22:12:00.000-07:00

I get almost all my news online these days with varying degrees of completeness, accuracy and fairness. In other words, I haven’t the faintest idea what’s going on, although the Washington Post does a good job overall. Their opinion writers cover the entire spectrum, and earn my respect because of their generally excellent writing even though I often have disagreements with their conclusions.

By contrast, the paper I grew up with, the San Francisco Chronicle, is on par with the National Enquirer. No self-respecting bird will let you line its cage with it, and paper recyclers treat yesterday’s edition as hazardous material. The writers can barely put together a coherent sentence, while if an article is sensational, exaggerated, poorly researched, and completely biased; it naturally gets the front page. Compare how the “Comical” would cover an event as compared to a more sober paper like the Post, or better yet, the London Times.

A storm approaches with 50 mph winds and heavy rain.

The Times: A bit of a stiff breeze is expected over the next couple of days accompanied by some rain. Be sure to keep your umbrellas handy and remove any household objects that may otherwise make unexpected and possibly unwelcome visits to your neighbors.

Chronicle: Oh my God!!! It’s the storm of the century; we’re all going to die!

Stock Market Crashes:

The Times: A slight mishap in the markets today will mean some belt tightening is in order.

Chronicle: Lifetime savings of the rich exploiters of the working class were wiped out in an instant! This is all because of their repression of the oppressed and not giving their life savings to every street bum you see.

Latest royal scandal:

The Times: The queen is slightly miffed at the unseemly behavior of the prince. It is beneath our dignity to go into the details. Editors note: Right, who put in that link to the tabloid with the juicy photos and quotes?

Chronicle: Prince who? You mean there’s something beyond our narrow, self serving view of the world? And besides who needs royalty when you have the highest concentration of queens in the world?

The lifestyle page:

The Times: Here are some handy gardening tips that beautify your home and at the same time provide tasty, healthy fruits and vegetables.

Chronicle: How to cross-dress your child.

The end of the world:

The Times: Well this is a bloody nuisance, coming as it is the day before that important cricket match with India.

Chronicle: Finally, a way to stop the greedy capitalistic mortgage brokers from foreclosing on your home despite your taking out a loan with terms that would embarrass a loan shark.

Faster Than A Sleeping Snail

2008-06-04T21:10:00.000-07:00

But not by much. Since I had to lug yet another hefty Visual Basic .Net book to work yesterday in hopes that among the several I have I can find the answer to a homework assignment for a class I’m taking, I left my laptop back at my lodgings. This was unfortunate, because I’m finding the 35 minutes I spend on the train after work is a great time to work on this blog. Even more unfortunate because the 35 minutes last night stretched out to close to 3 hours.

After pulling into San Francisco 15 minutes late, about 4 miles south of the city the train lost ambition to keep going. After a half hour wait, a following train pulled up behind, and after some drama, was hooked up to mine. A half hour after that, we limped to the next station, where everyone offloaded and crammed into the following train to enter the station. Well, almost everyone. The crush of bodies was not appealing so I held out for a less crowded train. This one made the milk run instead of being an express, so bottom line was getting to my lodgings, and a very cranky cat, much later than usual.

If I had the laptop, the time would have passed more easily than by staring out the window at an empty field on one side and a truck fueling depot on the other. It probably would have been something like this:

Phone call to wife: “Well I just finished writing that second novel and am looking for ideas on the third. And no, trains will not be in it."

“Hmmm, battery getting low on laptop, and I’m not in a seat with an electric outlet so I can plug in the AC adapter. Seat in front of me has an adapter though it’s in use by another laptop user… this will take some sleight of hand, and yes! A Dell adapter does indeed work on my HP. Sucks that the owner of that Dell is about to lose Unreal Tournament because he’s going to run out of juice.”

Another phone call to wife: "No, you can’t collect on the life insurance policy on me because I haven’t been stuck on the train long enough yet to be declared legally dead. Just be patient."

And after cell phone battery started running low, there would have been just enough power to call my darling wife and ask her the all important question, "So just why did the Giants blow $126 million on Barry Zito?"

Natural Disaster Musings

2008-06-02T21:20:00.000-07:00

Telling someone you’re from California often brings the response, ‘I could never live in a place with all those earthquakes.” Granted that is a serious concern, and is something always in the back of my mind. I’ve experienced several earthquakes, most are described as “Nature’s Rollercoaster”, scary while on the ride but strangely thrilling after the shaking stops.

The exception was the Loma Prieta quake of 1989. I was on BART (the Bay Area’s train system for the uninitiated, the acronym stands for Barely Able to Run on Time), on an elevated section of track when it hit. For several seconds I was honestly afraid the train would be shaken off the tracks. I was also wondering how it felt to anyone traveling under the bay in the Transbay Tube. It turned out that structure was so over engineered the quake was barely felt, though of course that didn’t stop anyone from inventing harrowing stories of survival. Anything to impress the gullible so you could get free drinks out of them.

But “The Big One” has yet to hit, and it is close to being overdue. So with my move to Texas I get to shed myself of that paranoia, and pick up new ones in tornadoes, hail storms, floods and hurricanes. Nothing like variety. I was in one small tornado in Virginia in the early 1990’s; the worst it did was give a few apartments skylights in the complex I was living in.

For hurricanes, in 1998 I was in Florida for a training class when Georges came churning up the west coast of the state. The night before it hit, I was in a hotel bar with my counterparts from our Denver and Dallas offices. The two guys from D.C. who had taught the class had already split, but the rest of us weren’t scheduled to leave until morning. I envisioned the D.C. gents were preparing a report, “The class went exceptionally well, however we now have openings in our Denver, Dallas and San Francisco offices.”

My flight the next morning was the last one out before the Tampa airport closed. A month later I was sent to Guam, just in time for a typhoon to blow through. It was just strong enough to create a bit of excitement, but no damage. So two trips, two storms. Yet for some reason no one in my office wanted to travel with me afterwards.

Culture Shock

2008-05-31T22:07:00.000-07:00

While weeding through my possessions in preparation for the eventual move to Texas, I’ve been wondering about how to prepare for social integration. I do know they prefer a more direct approach to solving problems as opposed to California’s idea of sensitivity trainings, contemplating crystals, and in the end not getting a thing done. This is especially true in the case of personal conflicts, where you are expected to feel the other person’s pain and understand his or her anger.

Texans would resolve the conflict by something like, “Do we hang him or just shoot him?” And if it’s someone they’re really ticked at they may just shoot him while he’s hanging.

So I devised a personal questionnaire to see if I’m really ready.

“How’s your shooting arm?”
“Couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn.”

“Can you barbecue an entire side of beef at once?”
“Without blowing up half the town from having no idea how high to turn the gas on the grill?”

“Do you drive a truck so big it takes up three lanes on the highway and has dualies for front wheels?”
“I drive a car that would be swallowed by the tire treads on such a truck.”

“What’s the best way to get into real trouble in Texas?”
“That I do know, wear an Ozzie Osbourne t-shirt at the Alamo.”

“What do you do when someone cuts you off in traffic?”
“Wave politely, he may be better armed than you.”

“How do you deal with strange folks from California?”ti
“Isn’t there a bounty on them? Uhmm… wait a minute, let me reconsider that answer.”

Family ties

2008-05-30T22:26:00.000-07:00

While California has lost a lot of its appeal, I’ll still leave with a lot of good memories. Growing up in the East Bay is one of them. Livermore was a pleasant rural valley town that was quite content as a wine growing region with an annual rodeo to liven things up. When the government decided to locate large weapons research and development labs there, it became much more suburban, something hard to avoid with the population quadrupling almost overnight.

But it was still a safe and for the most part sedate environment to grow up in. Like most of my father’s friends, mine worked in weapons research. Well, at least that was the assumption. Considering how classified everything was he worked on, I always assumed if I did ask what he really did he’d say, “I’d tell you but then I’d have to kill you.” Since that would have put a damper on our father –son relationship, I decided to change the subject.

With seven of us in the family and a not very large house, quiet time was hard to find. Though somehow, Dad was always able to have his before dinner nap in his living room recliner, despite the TV playing and my siblings and myself doing whatever we really weren’t supposed to be doing. The recliner was his private domain, if you were sitting on it and he pointed at you then jerked his thumb over your shoulder, you vacated. Since Dad was an engineer, I figured it best not to find out if the recliner really did have an ejection mechanism.

The house also had a built in burglar alarm, and I don’t mean the dog. Mom is a light sleeper, and I had to get past my parents room to get to my own. No matter how stealthy I was sneaking in after being out past curfew, I would almost always get a sharp, “Do you know what time it is?” Replying, “Yes, it is precisely 3 AM, thanks for asking,” didn’t go over very well.

Living With CRF

2008-05-29T21:22:00.000-07:00

As mentioned before, Squeak is a senior citizen, and a year ago was diagnosed with Chronic Renal Failure, (CRF). It’s possible she was exposed to the tainted food that affected a number of other cats and dogs at the time, but that doesn’t change anything. She is very affectionate, active and alert, so after the initial shock of learning of her condition, I decided to treat her as well as possible.

CRF is a chronic condition as the name implies, and eventually the cat’s kidneys will deteriorate to where they cannot function. Counting Squeak, I’ve had six cats, and four of them eventually succumbed to CRF. My vet at the Central Veterinary Hospital, http://www.centralveterinary.com/, said despite her kidney problems, Squeak was remarkably healthy, and with proper treatment would have more quality time on this earth. I also did some online research, and found an excellent site http://www.felinecrf.com/ .

First was a change of diet to low protein foods. She’s fond of the senior canned formulas from Max Cat and Natural Choice. She will eat Hills Science Diet KD formula reluctantly, but is more enthusiastic about the first two brands. She also needs sub cutaneous fluids daily. This was the biggest hurdle to get over, not just for her, but for me steeling myself to give them to her. It took several tries to get it right, but while it’s still not a joy, it works.

The hardest and most frustrating problem is she gets buildups of stomach acid, and when it gets to be too much… well let’s just say the shower curtain covering the carpet in the room I’m renting is there for a good reason. Odd thing is these incidents should be debilitating. Yet she treats them as a minor annoyance.

I give her Reglan and Alternagel twice a day, and grind up a quarter tablet of Pepcid AC in her food, but have yet to find a magic formula that works on a consistent basis. However, as long as she has the spirit, I’ll gladly make the sacrifice to keep her going.

Mobile Air Raid Siren

2008-05-28T21:14:00.000-07:00

Traveling with pets is one of things you can research until the world ends, at which stage it’s a moot point but I digress, and when the reality begins your faithful pet will manage to do everything you never anticipated.

In January 2006, I was finishing an eight month long assignment in Washington, D.C. Two months previously, I had returned to California to fetch Squeak, an elderly but still feisty Siamese who should have had the more accurate name Air Raid Siren. Her vocal chords must be bionic because no cat can produce as many sounds, and at the intense volume, that she can.

The adventure started when I took her in her carrier to the office of the apartment I was renting to turn in the keys. A woman was standing at the desk talking to one of the staff, when she turned and asked, “Who has the crying baby?” Her look was one of bewilderment on not seeing anything remotely resembling a baby. Yep, it was Squeak, and when upset Siamese do sound much like a cranky baby.

Fortunately and unfortunately she’s nocturnal. Fortunately because she usually sleeps between 10 AM and 2 PM in the day, so I had some peace and quiet while driving. Unfortunately because she started pitching a fit by 5 PM, which was when I almost always hit rush hour traffic in an unfamiliar city. Since this was January, I took a southern route to avoid getting stuck in blizzards. This added a couple extra days to the trip. My eardrums have not been the same since.

After getting to my hotel for the night, I would set up her food, water and litter box, and hope she’d be so worn out she’d sleep next to me until morning.

Not a chance.

The second night I was in Meridian, Mississippi. I went out to the car and had the door to my room open for maybe five seconds. Fifteen minutes after returning to my room I thought it was unusually quiet. I looked under the bed, her usual hiding place. No Squeak. I looked everywhere else for 45 minutes with the rising panic she had freaked out and bolted as soon as she saw the open door. Seeing as how she’s an indoor cat, her chances of outside survival were not good. But I looked outside anyway, frantic that she was gone forever.

Then back inside I glanced at a recliner. It hadn’t dawned on me there might be enough space for her to sneak inside. Upending the recliner revealed one cat looking so smug she could hide that well as well as stay absolutely motionless and silent the entire time. As for the rest of the trip, it got to be a pattern with her finding more hiding places, usually under or inside the bed where getting her out was going to take some serious explosives.

But there was still a lot of furniture moving and the occasional mattress removal to flush her out.
Before checking out I did my best to make sure the room looked like it had been hit by no more than an F1 tornado. I still kept a list of the hotels I stayed at, because they may not be welcoming me back if I have to repeat this trip.

However, come November, it’s quite possible she’ll be taking one more cross-country drive with me to Texas. Though on a serious note, that depends on her health. She’s seventeen and a year ago was diagnosed with Chronic Renal Failure (CRF), meaning her kidneys are failing. Next installment will talk about treatments and links to sound advice…

So Why Texas?

2008-05-27T20:55:00.000-07:00

Good question. I like cool weather, Texas is beastly hot in summer and even more beastly humid. I like mountains, Texas, especially the Houston area, is flat. But Texas has the one thing California doesn't, my lovely wife. For the last two years I tried to get a transfer to my agency's Seattle office but that didn't work. So, Texas started looking more attractive, especially since things like no State income tax, far more reasonable property values, and my wife already being well established there, having spent half her life around Houston. The other half was spent in England, but that's another story.

Unfortunately, once again there weren't any jobs open for my rather specialized experience. But, retirement then looked like a viable option, especially if I could do some consulting on the side. And, with real estate being priced so people who bought homes did so with the intention of actually living in them and not as speculative investments, (what a concept!), I could finally afford a home I'd be very comfortable in for a long time.

This will be a transition, but I'm looking forward to it. My office isn't so sure, since thanks to Congress and Bush slashing our budget to the bone my position will not be backfilled. It's kind of fun hearing, "We're in panic mode!" from those wondering how my services will be provided after I leave.

My answer, which may very well be the truth, is to cough up some contractor money then hope that contractor passes that on to me. Probably in exchange for some work though, funny how some people insist on that. But before then, there is a lot of preparation to be done for the actual move. I'm planning to drive, and with a bit of luck, will have a companion in my elderly Siamese. Stay tuned for my last adventure driving cross country with her.

Why California Is No Longer Golden

2008-05-26T19:33:00.000-07:00

I've spent almost my entire life in the San Francisco area, primarily the East Bay, and for the most part it has been an enjoyable experience. The Peninsula, however, was this mysterious place never ventured to except in alternating years when Cal played Stanford at Stanford's now fortunately replaced disaster of a stadium. But after my divorce over two years ago, I needed a place to stay, and accepted the offer of renting a room in a private home. The owner was a co-worker I'd been friends with for over 20 years, so it seemed like a good deal.

Well, financially it worked. It also exposed me to life on the Peninsula, which has a some physical attractions, but unfortunately is populated by a heavy concentration of rude, arrogant, self absorbed, pretentious hypocritical jerks. I can almost always count on being tailgated by a BMW or SUV, and if out hiking the usual reaction upon encountering another person is a taut face and an unspoken "Why are you violating my space?" Well excuse me, this is a public park and all your arrogance and money can't change that.

There is also the phenomena of people with more money than sense or taste buying lots in the hills with perfectly good, if obscenely overpriced, houses, then tearing the houses down and building an ostentatious mansion in its place. All to impress the neighbors of course, who will then proceed to tear their own places down and build something even more grandiose in its place.

The entire attitude is one of entitlement and superiority that is hardly justified. Needless to say I'll be quite happy to leave early November for my next destination of culture shock, Texas. More on that later...

Seeing if this works

2008-05-25T22:33:00.000-07:00

Ok, so the first post is not likely to generate much excitement. Sort of like when in high school drivers training your very first time behind the wheel is not meant to be exciting. At least that's the fond wish of your instructor.