Tag Archives: family

Ugly, but hey, the hats kind of neat…

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The Catholic Church opens its mouth and they say the darnedest things. They live in an uniquely distorted world: People aren’t exactly flocking to churches, the Pope himself is deeply implicated with shielding pedophiles in the Church ranks and then they say this out loud. How exactly are you spreading the word of Jesus Christ? Is it by preaching hate and sexually abusing children that you think is the path to salvation?

Much like the conservatives, it seems that the Church has drifted so far off its axis that they no longer seem to have any grip on reality.

But hey, who am I? Hah! Have you looked in a mirror lately?

Christmas Cards have all been sent…

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Work is all said and done. At Western we are released from our obligations, at least this year, on Friday December 21st. Then to save money and give employees time to celebrate the holidays the University just closes down until the day after New Years. It’s a benefit that doesn’t really get a lot of play until you are in the thick of it and then realize just how fortunate you are to have something that nice that you can take advantage of.

So, for the next gaggle of days there isn’t work to be done. So I can concentrate on being at home and resting and relaxing, which naturally means that I’m going to be a jungle-gym for affectionate felines. It’s not that bad either. :) One thing that I have discovered is that I’ve got bad addresses for lots of my family, so if you don’t get a Christmas card, it’s not because I’m daft or ignorant, it’s because I had a bad address and sent the card willy-nilly off into the ether, and they’ll probably eventually come back undeliverable. I don’t know whether to just edit them and send them back out when they start coming in with good addresses or just do my best to the family that moved next year. We spent about $50 in stamps, money well spent I think because we love sending out Christmas cards every year, except for the gaggle of returns that flood back around the 27th and 28th. If you are online, I’ll try to reach you and let you know that next year our list will be better.

Amongst all the cards we get, the cute ones, the beautiful ones, and the sappy ones there are a few loaded with pictures of my adorable and beautiful family scattered all about. Specifically I received the card from Steven and Lacy, and in it is a picture of Peyton. I treasure these pictures and I keep them in places where I will always see them and think about all of these beautiful wonderful children that grace our family. On the fridge in our kitchen, the heart of our house we have Peyton’s baby pictures as well as Xander and Jackson. On my phone I have Odin and Leif, Aiden, Ashton, and Ethan. It warms my heart to see them all, I just wish the distance wasn’t so very profound between us all.

Winter has come to the lower part of Michigan, at least in terms of violent winds, proper temperatures, and the appropriate precipitation, finally. The ground is still way too warm for any snow to accumulate but the grass doesn’t mind holding a record of what little fell in the previous night. I’m holding out hope that we have a white Christmas instead of a brown or green one. It may not be that the weather is really that damaged after all, but one thing I can say beyond a doubt is that the seasons are shifting. Winter is coming late and staying way into where Spring should arrive, and then Summer comes in a hurry and lasts far too long itself. It’s like the entire seasonal dial is off by about fifteen to twenty degrees of rotation. My fear is that it just gets worse, or even more disastrous, that we miss Spring and Fall altogether and it just becomes a battle between Winter and Summer. Only time will tell, so we’ll have to wait and see, perhaps there will be a saving grace that the environment can play to help keep us safe, even from ourselves.

Barnes & Noble's Nook HD+ Is Clever

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Barnes & Noble just sent an email out announcing their two new tablets: The Nook HD and Nook HD+.

Previously to this release I was discussing with my partner, who works for Barnes & Noble ways that B&N could compete with Amazon and Apple in the tablet space. There was a concern that B&N had lost traction and that the company was going to spiral out of control and crash, eventually. These tablets have just eliminated a good portion of that worry.

For full disclosure, I came across a rather pleasant and unexpected windfall in regards to money and I’ve been kvetching about the poor performance of my 1st edition iPad and in a way, Apple has sent a clear message that they regard the device as dead because they are no longer writing software updates for it. I went ahead and purchased an iPad 3 and I’ve been enjoying it quite a lot.

This news from B&N is very interesting to me as this new device has several key areas that put up more bang-for-less-money. The first surprise is the processing speed of the Nook HD+ in comparison with the iPad 3. 1.5GHz dual-core versus 1GHz dual-core. Ever since 2003 when the world pretty much stopped worrying and loved the bomb that is processor speed ratings this distinction isn’t as compelling as it appears on paper. The two units have different core technologies, the iPad has an A5X processor and the Nook HD+ has an OMAP 4470 processor. We have seen from manufacturers like HTC and Samsung that even when you pour huge muscular processors into devices to compete, that if the experience of the user isn’t done correctly then all the computing horsepower in the world means very little. It’s not about the muscles, it’s about the refinement of the motor cortex. It isn’t how strong you are, it’s your dexterity – at least in the phone and tablet space. I do hand it to B&N when it comes to pumping numbers and keeping costs suppressed - that’s a win in their column.

The second surprise, and I’ve been half expecting someone to notice this glaring deficit in tablet OS design comes down to what I believe to be Barnes & Noble’s knife-held-confidently-behind-its-back killer feature. Barnes & Noble is going to bring profile control to the tablet space. This casts a huge pall over both Amazon and Apple devices and redefines a tablet to be a multiuser device. It is exceptionally clever for Barnes & Noble to do this because it draws a clear bead of connection from everyone’s computer experience (where you have an account and profile) off to your device. When it comes to Apple, they rejected this model and regard a device to be a one-person-only deal, which has been a weakness in the iOS OS design. Apple may be too far along to make such a fundamental change to iOS so we may see the creation of a new track of tablet technology. Is a tablet multiuser or single-user? By being multi-user, and if B&N does it elegantly, it can cast B&N in a family friendly light, more than an Amazon or Apple product because one relatively inexpensive device can serve an entire family. Instead of the onerous cost of a Kindle or iPad for each person, because each device is single-user, one Nook HD+ can be used by different members of a family without having to worry about security, privacy, preference or profile leakages between people. It’s a failure of the Apple iOS OS and here is why: When I come across another persons iOS device, I am utterly lost – I don’t know their preferences, their security settings, where they have placed icons, and I find myself having to relegate to the search screen to even find where they put the ubiquitous “Settings” icon. If B&N does profiles elegantly, this will be a non-issue. Rendered moot because each person has their own settings that they are used to, making the confusion evaporate.

I think that B&N will pursue a marketing strategy that elevates the personal touch and the family friendliness of their Nook HD and Nook HD+ devices. That will be key, with profiles, the ability to use LendMe to share books, and their admittedly well-done “Parent recording storybooks for their children” technology they will position themselves to be “The Booksellers who care about you and your family” and they will occupy a third niche in this space. The first niche is the deep-discount one, that’s occupied by Amazon. The second niche is the elegance-at-all-costs one, which is occupied by Apple – and then last but certainly not least, the third niche which is the Friends-Family-Kids one, which is going to be Barnes & Noble Booksellers.

This niche may be the best hope for Barnes & Noble to retain their 21st century relevance.  They should maintain their “Brick and Mortar” presence and cater their stores to being a place where you feel welcome, with friendly staff and a coffeehouse/library atmosphere. The elevator sales-pitch is that B&N is more personable and immediate than Amazon could ever hope of being – you don’t know Jack at Amazon, but you know Jack at B&N. B&N’s approach to kids and family with their very deep roots set throughout America means they have already beat Apple to the market in terms of the personal touch. Yes, Apple has the Genius Bar and yes they are friendly geeks, but you don’t go to a Genius Bar to find out about Apps and Woodworking! You can only do that at a Barnes & Noble!

The real competition isn’t between B&N and Apple anyhow, since Apple touches B&N only in this one market-space. The real competition here is between Amazon and B&N. It’ll be an interesting evolution to say the least – which do people prefer more? The cold, impersonal, sterile deep-discount algorithms of Amazon or the instant-gratification, warm, personal, and direct approach of Barnes & Noble Booksellers? It may simply come down to how people refer to these two competitors. You USE Amazon and you VISIT Barnes & Noble Booksellers. That right there is something that Jeff Bezos can never buy himself into, but B&N already exists to cater to. Which do you value, the impersonal or the personal?

Barnes & Noble Booksellers may have just secured their direct relevancy in the market for the next decade with these two new devices. The proof is in the pudding of course, these devices, once in the stores, will be the final arbiter on the survivability of B&N in the tablet market space.

 

LJ – Nostalgia

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From 11/10/2003

Nostalgia… the reverie of something poignant in the past. It also brings forth the notion that scent plays a role in it, with the Nos prefix to the word itself.

In my wandering tonight I decided to go out after I got all my little tasks done and over with and went to Best Buy. I noticed several wonderful and frightfully affordable toys lined on shelves bleating out ‘Buy me! Buy me!’ however I luckily survived and resisted the urge to break out my Best Buy card and spend like the dickens… While browsing I decided to pick up a new spindle of CD-R’s for work using the purchasing card so it was a chance to window shop and take care of a little business all in one giant go. After Yub tseB was over with I next had my eye on some more laundry detergent and across the road was a Target… got that done and over with and I went searching for lubricant for my car’s passenger side front door assembly because it squeaks and wonks. Standing in Target I searched for about 10 minutes until I finally found a canister of WD-40, for which I didn’t buy. I left with my laundry soap and while driving down Westnedge Avenue it occurred to me that I could probably find what I was looking for at Meijers. Stop there, wander the automotive section for a while and behold… the same canister size of WD-40 laying on the shelf… I don’t know if it was my irritation at the plastic’ness of Target or just a brain fart, but I completely forgot that WD-40 is a lubricant and is exactly what I was looking for. After getting it at Meijers I promptly headed home only to find myself driving right behind Scott coming home from his book readers club at B&N. Followed him home, parked the car, and got ready to take care of the laundry. Stocked the car, headed back into the house to fetch a flashlight and with the canister of WD-40 in tow I set out to resolve the squeak/wonk sound.

That’s where Nostalgia comes in…

As I started to spray the WD-40 all over the hinge assembly and move the door back and forth I got a whiff of the scent inherent in WD-40. I found myself a party to a very vivid memory which defines a good portion of the male influence in my life. The first image I remember is my maternal grandfathers workbench – he repaired typewriters and WD-40 was the cure-all for damn near everything that could ail an old purely mechanical typewriter back in the 80’s. I remembered bits and pieces of him, nothing intense, but startling in that I wasn’t expecting such a profound memory to pop out and say “hiya!”. The other memory was helping my father work on an old electro-mechanical cash register back in his old office in Syracuse. It had this huge hood assembly that you’d put the part in and it had these big metal rods with little triggers on them and you could pressure-wash with WD-40 until the part worked or drowned in lubrication. For both of these memories the abject shock of recognition and the speed at which my mind churned up these particular childhood memories left me in a lurch for a while – savoring the light scent of WD-40 and appreciating just how strong Nostalgia can grip you when you least expect it.

Synchronicity

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Sometimes you can’t explain how things unfold. Previous generations labeled things like this kismet, or fate. A really tremendously great word for what I just dealt with could be called synchronicity.

A few days ago while I was marveling at my silly dress-up vest with the finished pockets sewn closed, I was standing under an old-time fixture that I had installed all on my own. Frankly it was going to turn out to be a nod to the past any way it unfolded. It was either going to be the fixture we eventually chose or a “in the spirit of” Tiffany-style lamp. So either way we were going to install a fixture that prized the past. We noticed the “Edison Style” bulbs immediately and almost in the vein of “love at first sight” these fixtures trumped the Tiffany-style stained glass ones almost instantly. It helped of course that the “Edison Style” was $45 while the “Tiffany Style” was $90. We could afford a small bit of throwback style for half the price.

So while I was looking at myself, all trimmed and shaved (for what it’s worth) in a dress vest, under an “Edison Style” bulb it had to be synchronicity for what transpired tonight. For the past few days I’ve been dwelling, at least mentally, in a space that appreciates how excellent really old designs are and sometimes these designs are actually pinnacle moments. They are wonders, marvels, true magnificence that once expressed can’t really be improved upon. It takes a real romantic to even entertain that an old thing retains value. In some ways I sense that old things not only retain their value but augment their value because they last, or touch something deep inside that means something very important to you.

So I stood there, in the civil twilight of pre-dawn right before work. Standing under an Edison-style bulb and appreciating my reflection in the hall mirror and being filled with a feeling that something quite like this could have been how my predecessors felt in the 1800’s when all this technology was brand new. Nobody then marveled at the warm yellow glow from an Edison bulb as a matter of romance, they saw it as an improvement to paraffin, naphtha, or beeswax candles. So for some strange reason I thought of someone I never met, ever in my life but only know through Ancestry.com. That would be my second great grandfather Fernando Race. The father of my maternal grandfather, Allan (I think). So oddly enough I had technically summoned the shade of my second great grandfather and it was something very deep and meaningful.

I never EVER knew any of these people. The only memory I have of my maternal grandfather is little blazes of bright memory. Me sitting on his lap while his model trains ran around his little train village in the basement of my grandparents home in Ithaca. It’s true that scent can bring you back, and it does for me. Funny enough if I catch WD-40, an industrial cleaner and lubricant, and it’s scent, accessing these memories of my grandfather all becomes very plain and very simple and they kind of burst forth right into my mind. Scents carry memory, alas, nostalgia. So getting just a scent of WD-40 puts me right back there. So thinking about the past also helps put me “back there” and frankly I find it highly entertaining that I find myself preferentially dwelling in the past where things I take for granted would mostly likely be interpreted as high sorcery.

It wasn’t until a few days after my “in the past” reverie that I called my mother out of the blue. No reason for it other than I love her and miss her terribly and the missing feeling goes away a little bit when I talk to her on the phone. So I called her on my way home from the gym. People at work who find me … unique… (a great word, I love it) always ask to visit with my mother to see if that can explain why I am the way I am. Why I’m emotional and ebullient and always say whats on my mind. I laugh at my coworkers who puzzle over my behavior at work. If they knew my parents, they’d understand I wasn’t crazy but that I was as they see me, which is beloved (and special, huge heaps of special) :)

Then my mother laid two big whammies on me. The first took my breath away. I don’t really want to delve deeply into it for it’s subject matter, at least not now, but while dashing down I-94 going somewhere between sixty and seventy miles per hour she laid a HUMONGOUS whammy on me. It was a challenge to retain my composure and not drive off the highway into a ditch. The news she shared created a new emotion. It was a complicated knotwork of surprise, shock, and a heavy dose of what would be if you mixed “Eureka”, “Synchronicity”, and patent incredulity. Baked at 350 for one hour and seasoned with a kind of half-joking expectation, almost a kind of odd deja-vu sensation.

So I dwell here, thinking about things and people in my life. It’s important not to say too much lest I give it all away that I know, but I’ve been waiting many years for this to happen and this has awakened the voice of my power animal, my totem if you will. He talks to me in my own voice, and comes from deep within, my intuition and I’ve learned to respect that part of me, or him, or both. I will dwell where I am, quiet and waiting. That’s what I think I should do and that’s what my totem is telling me outright to do.

Anyways, beyond the unavoidable teasing which I apologize for of the previous section, it wasn’t the end of the whammies my mother laid out on me tonight. She shared with me some things which I’d rather not share here, but bear directly on my random mental roulette ball landing on the Races and Tuttles. I could have chosen anyone from my past, and thanks to Ancestry.com and my Uncle John and my Mother I don’t really have to wonder much anymore, that who I thought of first would come, in a way, forward through time and tap me on the shoulder and in a very roundabout way give me a wholly unexpected hug from the 19th century all through the agency of nobody else but my very own mother. I hate to be cryptic about this, but I feel I have to be circumspect. Suffice it to say, in a very strange and surreal way I feel like this part of my life was meant to play out this way, and that Fernando Race, his son, or his grandson – my grandfather dwelled closeby me that day when I was caught in my reverie of the past.

It wasn’t until I talked with my mother tonight that so many tumblers all clicked into place. I don’t know exactly how much she appreciates what has happened, but for me, at the focus of this storm of synchronicity, with so much all colliding all at once as if it fit together so perfectly that it lacked seams, that these two things will likely come to pass if I do not meddle in my fate. Time and time again I have been ringside as I have attempted to meddle in my fate and been handed my hat for my troubles. This time I won’t. It’s very Zen, but in a way, to move forward I have to remain perfectly still.

I can say that the synchronicity thrills me. So if anyone out there puts two and two and the square root of minus two together and expects that answer, then we should indeed talk. Life is happy there, or at least, it could be.

Trip to Albany

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We drove from Kalamazoo to O’Hare airport yesterday morning and there was absolutely no traffic to contend with. Parked and got in, got our tickets, passed through security and both legs of our trip went without an issue.

One telling bit was the security at O’Hare. I have to admit that it was mostly security theater. I say this because I had stored my empty HydroFlask 1L bottle in the base of my backpack. The HydroFlask is made of stainless steel and should be very opaque to X-Rays yet the TSA scanners elected to not ask to see it opened up and demonstrated that it was empty. One thing I dodged this time was having to walk through the backscatter scanner. For some unknown reason we were shunted off to the magnetometer instead of the backscatter scanner. I was actively going to request an enhanced pat-down if I had no choice but to go through the backscatter scanner.

This time through the entire meat-grinder of airplane travel and TSA security we didn’t have any delays, nor did we have any hangups anywhere. It was unusually easy and straightforward. I have to be careful lest I harvest any sense of hope that it could be like this in the future. :)

Although the lapse in security at O’Hare was a concern. It’s a good thing I’m a good guy and not a bad guy. :)

While I was on both legs of my trip out to Albany I figured that my Nook Simple Touch wasn’t really an electronic device because of it’s eInk technology. While the page is being displayed, the device is technically in an off-state. So while we were busy climbing and descending in and out of 10,000 feet of altitude I decided it was meaningless to pussyfoot around with using the device so I went along and just used it while the stewardi was busy walking away from me and closing it down when they wander past. It’s stupid that eInk technology is classed with other devices, like iPads and iPhones. The Nook worked great anyways and I really was happy with how it helped me pass the time aloft.

Trip

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My trip to see my Fathers side of the family began on the 2nd of July. Usually, when I drive to see this part of my family my travel plans have me going in a straight shot from Kalamazoo Michigan, up to Port Huron, Michigan. I cross over to Canada at Sarnia, Ontario and proceed across much of Ontario and then re-enter New York State at Lewiston, which is adjacent to Buffalo. Then I take the New York State Thruway to Syracuse, New York. The entire trip takes about 8 to 9 hours.

This time I didn’t follow that plan. While talking it over with friends I asked another set of friends who live in Cleveland, Ohio if I could stop at their place overnight to split the trip up in half over two days. They agreed and I decided this was going to be an adventure. I’ve passed through the United States on this trip before and the entire endeavor takes about an hour and a half more as you have to go around Lake Erie instead of crossing over the north part of it in Ontario.

I got up and ready on the 2nd, collected all my things that I would need for travel except for certain bits of apparel. Apparently in my morning rush I remembered my gadgets and wiring but utterly forgot some of the most basic parts of my wardrobe. Oops. I only realized my omission when I left I-94 and switched over to I-69, too far away to turn back and get what I forgot. The first leg of my trip was perfectly fine and very straightforward, I-94 to I-69 to I-90. East, South, East. The GPS was yammering away in my ear the whole time and there really isn’t any possibility of getting lost. The entire route was facilitated by my I-Pass transponder which pretty much pays all my tolls for the entire trip. Getting to Cleveland was rather uneventful, except for the first barrier from Indiana to Ohio. The I-Pass transponder system usually has it’s receiver adjacent to the gate assembly at the barrier, so I usually just haul out the transponder and hold it up to my windshield when I’m pulling up to the toll barrier gate. This one singular barrier, between Indiana and Ohio doesn’t have their system set up that way. The transponder is set to do all exchanges upon approach. That’s different than everyone else, Indiana, Illinois, and New York. So I was pretty much stuck with a bunch of other non-Ohio travelers in that barrier lane until someone came out to help us. For each of us they gave us an exasperated leer and chided us for not using the transponders properly. Considering this is the only barrier that uses them in this fashion and they don’t have any signs instructing travelers that they do it differently, my only response to the chiding was a thankfully inaudible eye-roll.

The rest of the trip through Ohio reminded me why I’m not a huge fan of Ohio. The people, the way they drive, their mannerisms – there is nothing patently wrong with anything, but when you add it all up you get this pervasive sensation of beige. Everything is beige. It’s bland, it’s plain, it’s wholly unremarkable. The people aren’t stupid, but they seem almost willfully dense and it only shows up when you observe a lot of them acting in concert. Individually they are just like everyone else, but when you are stuck in traffic in Ohio you start wondering if they are all as bright as a bag of hammers. Once I got to Cleveland the GPS just rocketed me right to where I needed to go, no fuss, no muss. No closed roads, no really big issues.

Once I got to my midpoint destination, half-way along I stopped at my friends house in the city, Chris and Keith. They have a wonderful turn-of-the-century house that reminds me a LOT of 808 North Cayuga Street (only close family will get the reference, sorry) and they just got done ripping out a lot of the old carpeting revealing some really amazing and wonderful hardwood flooring. Both Chris and Keith have four furbabies. Tuile, Coulis, Napoleon, and Minnie. They are all shorthairs or wirehairs and range through dachshund, through jack-russel/Chihuahua mix, Italian Greyhound and purebred Doberman Pinscher. They all have delightful personalities and were very friendly to me. I think Chris was a little shocked that his Doberman, Minnie responded so favorably to me. It’s all in the approach and you really have to understand some dog psychology to make that good first impression. I got settled and Chris and I got lunch, and then later on that night we all collected at their favorite tavern, the Winking Lizard. Several good appetizers were shared and I drank quite a lot of very good beers. I have to admit to being rather dull when it comes to beer, I haven’t explored beer quite as passionately as I have wine, but they were both very gracious and suggested and let me try a sip of their drinks to inspire me. Shortly after we began Chris and Keith’s good friend Junior arrived. Junior was very surprising, and in a good way. Very social, very friendly, and by the time the night was really chugging along we ended up getting intoxicated, enjoyed the local masculine fauna and all their obnoxious attractiveness and ended up chatting with a group of lesbians who enjoyed the antics of the thoroughly intoxicated gay men next to them. It was a wonderful time and I really think Scott would enjoy himself, except that he’d have to really dose up on antihistamines. The furbabies are a delight, but they will most likely make Scott a hot sneezy mess. Chris and Keith are excellent hosts and I can’t imagine ever needing to pass through Canada again with such wonderful friends and a place to rest. I don’t know if my body can take another last-night-in-Cleveland. At least I didn’t have a hangover.

The next morning I got up, pretty much when I usually get up, and got all my things together and lamented my earlier forgetfulness in regards to selecting the right amount of apparel for my trip and got all my things in order despite my shortsightedness. We did breakfast at one of their favorite locations, and it was very good. After some chatting and some more laughing I had to hit the road and finish my trip over here.

While driving I figured I would try to get my iPhone to do as much work as possible to make my trip easy. There are a suite of apps that really work well for long-distance travel, StreetPilot, which turns my iPhone into a Garmin Nuvi, Trapster which is a social network for sharing road conditions and locations of speed traps, and Glympse which is another social application that shares my location on a map along with my traveling speed. I had already loaded my iPhone up with Podcasts and I was listening to “A Way With Words” while all the other apps were chiming in when I needed navigation instructions or an alert that there was a police officer in the area. My loved ones who often times worry when I drive really enjoyed the Glympse application, switching to the Google Satellite view as I travel along made them very happy. There is little risk of anything unpleasant happening on these super highway systems, but knowing that they aren’t worrying actually helps me feel better. One little thing I did notice about Glympse is that knowing that people are observing my speed keeps me conscious of it and I don’t accidentally find myself going 80 in a 70 or 70 in a 55. Then again, my GPS also makes binging noises when I go 5 MPH over the limit and that helps too. Trapster in a way helps also keep me aware of the sharks on the open road, the cops sitting in speed traps. It’s a little victory when I spy a cop laying out a trap and I report him using Trapster to everyone else who is using the app on the road. As they approach my report they get a little noise on their devices indicating that a cop is sitting in a trap and they are about to enter the region. This is cheating the cops out of their traps and in some way it does defeat the purpose of the traps, but with my driving record and history, revenge sure feels good. Leaving Cleveland, the next big city is Erie, Pennsylvania. After that is Buffalo. I made a stop at the Walden Galleria Mall to correct my apparel failure and get something light for the road. I fixed my apparel problem and stopped at an Orange Julius. For those that didn’t grow up in New York (as this place is very regional and I think is just a New York thing) Orange Julius is pretty much just a hot-dog place that happens to sell their namesake drink, which is Orange Juice, crushed ice, and powdered milk, I think. I’m sure many people would think that it’s not very good but I grew up loving Orange Julius and was just a little bit geeked that I found them operating in the Mall and could get a taste of my past for three bucks. Alas, what is in your memory erodes over time and the reality is that they don’t really make them as good as they used to. It was still okay, and a drink, so I carried on. Getting back on the road, after Rochester, New York there was a rather flat and dull strip of the NYS Thruway (I-90) and I watched a fellow in an SUV in the right lane and I spied a New York State Trooper behind him in the classic New York State Trooper cruiser. Once you see a New York State Troopers cruiser, you never EVER forget that shape. Blue and Yellow, Lights and Stiff Starched Hat. So I was moving along in a 65 zone at 70, which honestly on the Thruway the troopers aren’t even interested in, but this fellow who was in the right lane, with a Trooper essentially tailgating him, was going at least 75. This idiot carried on this way for about 2 miles, the Trooper RIGHT THERE. That kind of cruiser is IMPOSSIBLE TO MISS. Yet this guy did. Either he was very brazen or an utter idiot. The Trooper didn’t need his radar gun, he was pacing the idiot for two miles, and then, way down the road, I spied the tell-tale blue and red lights pop on, then start to play back and forth – the kind of lights that make every New York State resident feel sick and caught, and over the both of them went. This idiot in the SUV really deserved it, it’s one thing to be in a wolfpack going 72 and getting picked off as the sacrificial lamb and quite another to essentially right-lane-block a Trooper and then let him pace you for two miles going a whole 10mph over the limit! Ah well, not me, not my insurance, not my problem.

Of course the problem with the Great New York State Thruway (capitals make it ironic) is that it is some of the dullest road in the Universe. It’s very dull, very straight, very buggy and if you aren’t lulled into a stupor by the sheer monotony of it, you can end up losing your marbles as you cross some of the thickest bands of leyline energy on the planet. This latter bit really gets me freaked out. There are two giant bands, one just east of Fredonia, New York and another one just east of Batavia, New York. I don’t know what the hell it is, but when I cross it, it feels like I’m being pulled in a kind of etheric taffy machine. If I were a passenger and I had my eyes closed, I’m sure I could mark the exact spot, it hits me every time I cross that part of I-90. I just want to pull the car to the side of the road, get out, and have a good healthy grand mal siezure. Thankfully I move at a pretty heady clip trying my best to exchange “mild traffic law infractions” for “losing my fucking marbles” So far I haven’t gotten caught. If the police did pull me over right in the middle of this awful vortex of *whatever-it-is* I’d probably cover the cop from head to toe in sick and then start trembling and shaking. We hope for small favors. I hate those two sections of road.

After the spirit-screwing fun-house that is Fredonia and Batavia, the road gets, as I have said, utterly and quite lethally banal. It’s a mind-numbing batch of nothing that you travel through, and there is nothing but waiting until it’s over and you pass thru it. I started feeling a little laggy around Victor, New York and I know that feeling well. The slow and agonizing slide towards trance-driving, microsleeps, and the subsequent rumble-strip-oh-shit-god-damnit. It’s usually promptly followed by face slapping, thigh pounding, foot slamming, whatever I can do to keep my mind from taking a vacation while I’m operating three tons of high-velocity metal. I am very aware of this particular problem I have and usually stop to get some soda or take advantage of a soda I have stashed in the car. The trouble with the Great New York State Thruway is that there really is no place to stop a vehicle. In New York, there aren’t really many exits and so, for people who are used to getting off on an exit and hitting McDonalds for a soda pop or some food, you have to wait (what seems like a long time) until you get to a Rest Stop on I-90. They are all named for the little communities that they were glommed onto as I-90 cut a swath of banality through their farmland. So I stopped at one before I progressed along the path I know all too well, which would be trance/microsleeps, got out, and got some 5-hour-energy shots. These little bastards are awesome and I resolved right then and there, in the parking lot of that rest area that from this point forward there will be a 4-pack of these little shot bottles hidden somewhere in my car. I think they’d fit nicely in the cargo area in the back. So from now on, if I feel the laggy feeling coming on I can stop, pop the back door, get a little bottle of daddies little helper and then get back on the road.

The rest of the trip, by that point, was just waiting for Exit 39 to hit. Once there, it’s 90, 690, 5, and done. So far everything is going well and I feel better about what the next few days will hold. If things get unpleasant I have my car, I can always hop into it and find something in town to occupy myself with if I have to. I don’t think I’d ever actually do that, but knowing that it’s an option that I could use makes the next few days manageable. In a lot of ways it’s a lot like political claustrophobia, the kind of claustrophobia related to not having a clear exit available to you. With my car, I’ll always have an exit in mind and the feeling of being trapped won’t afflict me. Although I think things will be better this year as I have a new bag of tricks to help me cope, mostly some keywords and clever “changing of the subject” chicanery that should work just fine. Tomorrow will be my fathers 72nd birthday so there will be mallwalking, cake, family visits, and a lot of plotzing. One thing my paternal family does very well is dwell. Lots of dwelling. Dwelling masters, in fact.

 

Williamsburg – November 16th 2010

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Today wasn’t as ram-tear as yesterday was. Breakfast was a continental at the resort center which was a surprise considering all the stories I’ve heard about Kingsmill, but I chock up the differences to a cost-conscious host like Sage and not because the venue just can’t get their host on.

Most of the day was spent bouncing from one room to another, learning some initially upsetting things and then as time went on realizing the inherent rightness of what I needed to do, essentially upgrade via scorched-earth policy. The best way to go from where we are with our product and where we have to go is to rip out everything, and reinstall from scratch. What was going to be an onerous task now became a sluggardly onerous task, but not insurmountable.

Lunch was quick, another continental, and the rest of the sessions went by in a blur. I caught up on my email, caught up on a huge wad of unread RSS feed material and made some headway clearing out my “favorite twitter” queue.

Dinner was shortly after that. We went to Berret’s Seafood Restaurant and Taphouse Grill on South Boundary Street in Williamsburg. The restaurant was initially quite pleasant however it was designed by the same people who assembled our ballroom office-space in Walwood Hall, it is organized like a rabbit warren, little connecting pathways between staging rooms. It’s not that I found fault with my food, it’s not that I didn’t like the restaurant either, but the menu selections were agonizingly assorted. If you wanted Shrimp you could have that, but you also got Oysters. If you wanted Tilapia, you also got Crab Cakes. The short two-page menu was rife with this sort of thing and I looked it over and frankly couldn’t find anything that I could order from the menu that I wanted to eat. Individual items, of course, but each dish was a mishmash of different seafood types and I’m not one for clams, oysters, or mussels. I ended up selecting a special, Tilapia-in-a-bag and got hosed. The dish was $26 but I got food that was really $8.99, at the most generous. The scallops that came with this dish were quarter size and nominally acceptable, but they weren’t properly washed and so I got a little sand in my diet tonight. If you are going to pump a $26 plate, wash the ingredients. In the end the meal was “very light” and that was a generous estimation from some of my dining compatriots who also had what I had. “This is it?” was what we heard up and down. I didn’t pitch a fit because it was a very high-class establishment and in the end it wasn’t my money on the line. If you are visiting Williamsburg, trust me on skipping this restaurant. I’m sure their other foods are outstanding, but if you are in any way picky about your seafood like I am, you’ll either leave hungry or upset, and poorer for it.

After dinner we decided that the night wasn’t over and some of my peers went out to get beer and wine so we could have a chat about our convention and enjoy each others company. The “party” devolved into a conference group meeting and we talked about obvious things that were on our minds, mostly about the company hosting us, Sage. Almost everything we remarked on was positive and we were all generally pleased with how Sage had compensated for their earlier problems that we chided them on in Denver, Atlanta, and our Users Group meeting in St. Olaf. Some people are apparently driven to see the two co-chairs, me and another lady, attend the Sage Summit 2011 in Washington, DC. I don’t see the reason or the justification for it since I’ve already attended here in Williamsburg, but I may have to go in order to make sure that Sage keeps in line with the wishes from our group. Only time will tell with that one.

Meanwhile, I’m contemplating going to visit family tomorrow afternoon after my last session ends, but I don’t have any method of conveyance from Williamsburg to Virginia Beach as I don’t have access to the rental vehicle that I once thought I might have had. The visit to VA Beach is still a possibility, but I haven’t the foggiest how I’m going to get there.

There are some oddities that do bear sharing. Kingsmill is a fantastic resort, but their bathrooms have been outfitted with occupancy sensors that were mounted about head-level, so when you make the slightest move, the toilet flushes and you get progressively more and more spritzed. I discovered that I could fix this … annoying problem by wrapping the occupancy sensor in toilet paper until I was good and ready for it to figure out that it was time to flush. I also noticed that in high traffic areas Kingsmill spares no expense and lays out cloth napkins to dry your hands after using the lavatory. In lesser used areas? Just paper towels. It’s not a problem, but it is kind of funny to see cleverness all the way down to how patrons dry their hands. The only other irking thing has nothing to do with the resort itself, but the obvious and annoying lack of any cellular signal whatsoever. I suppose if you are visiting for the spa, or the golf, or the grounds you don’t care so much about cellular technology. For me it would be a problem, if it weren’t for free Wifi and Google Voice.

Tomorrow is another day, up at 7ish, some more conference sessions and then? We’ll have to see…

Peril is the New Black

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On my daily slog through the grand stream of news, and it flows like a mighty river, I came across an article regarding how the Android mobile phone operating system has its first trojan horse. It’s a rite of passage for operating systems, to be exploited, the authors hard work lampooned by some clever other who finds a way to trick users to perform some really comically bad tasks on their device, often without them even being aware. This particular trojan horse is an otherwise innocuous Android app that does something simple, like wallpaper changing or something, but in reality what it does surreptitiously is send SMS messages to pay-for-SMS sites, the guess is that the trojan horse is sending SMS traffic to the right people so the writers of the trojan horse benefit financially from the trojan horse and it’s spread.

When I saw this story, I immediately started to re-compare the iOS system that Apple uses and the Android system that Google uses. Along with this I can’t get Cory Doctorow or Richard Stallman out of my head. These two were the ones who lambasted Apple for their closed approach to software, closed device, a curated application creation process and restricting what the device can and cannot do. Both Mr. Doctorow and Mr. Stallman have railed at length, declaring that the only real computing platform is one that is utterly open and utterly free. I have to register that I respect both of these men, as much as I respect Steve Jobs at Apple, but to their point I feel I must point out a thin sliver of bullshit. While having a system that is perfectly open and perfectly free is very attractive, it is also wide open to the nasty aspect of computer science, the malware authors and their creations.

If we lived in a perfect world without the people who created these bits of malware such an open system would be an utter utopia, it would be level, easy, efficient, and wonderful. We do not live in that sort of world. This is where I differ from Mr. Doctorow and Mr. Stallman. What system do I prefer, which one would I want my family to use? It has to be iOS from Apple. That applications are curated by Apple is partially the value, the other is that the devices are firmly locked so that there is no possibility for a certain kind of clever creativity. The devices work according to a logical plan set forth by Apple and nobody is allowed to stray from the path. This grates against the tenets of Free Software, that if you own a thing you should be able to do whatever you wish to the thing. I respect usability and the non-expert nature of users too much to accept that this is a good thing for the consumer. It’s a good thing for the clever like Mr. Doctorow and Mr. Stallman, but these devices weren’t built for them, they were built for regular folk. Having the walled garden, the curated applications, and having Apple as a firm overseer to everything that is done with these devices is an absolute value that only enhances iOS. You accept that some things won’t ever appear on an iOS device for the protection that the overseers provide. Regular folk don’t care to be clever with their technology, they want their technology to be rational, useful, safe and looked after.

Android’s trojan horse is huge. It illustrates this exact point that I am trying to make. If my family were using Android and downloaded this app and used it, they would have an SMS bill to pay and the maliciously clever app writer would make off with their limited resources. I would rather have them living in a gilded cage of Apple’s making than the wild west of Android because I know that they would be happier in-the-cage than out-west.

People come to me and they ask me quite often for guidance on which platform they should adopt, Apple’s iOS, Google’s Android, and the other two, which would be Palm’s WebOS and Microsoft’s Windows Mobile. The latter two don’t even exist to me, Microsoft has been dead to me for several years now, and Palm spent most of their time waffling into a ditch. The real competition, the real money is between iOS and Android. Before I had respect for the Android system and my only beef with it was that it was way too new and that older devices may not support updated versions of the Android OS and the risk that people could be trapped with an older piece of software because they couldn’t afford to break their two-year committment to the carrier. Now I can say, with a clear argument, that iOS is superior to Android simply because it is safer. What would I have my loved ones use? I’d rather they all use an iOS device from Apple. It’s not only the right choice, but it’s the only choice.

Bedrock of Angels

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Helping the Havens family say goodbye and bury a pillar of their family has been a daunting, difficult, yet absolutely the only thing I could do for the past two weeks. In my small way, to help where I can, to be a comfort, to get things done. There was no question that I would be gladly driving all over creation (2400 miles), doing whatever was necessary, and being there for Scott and his family when droop turned to drop.

To me, it was to be something they could rely on, an emergency block of bedrock to absorb tears, to relieve pressure, to help where I can without getting in the way. “Bedrock” is vital for these past two weeks, as a metaphor, for all of us. Scott was there for his mother, I was there for Scott, and Angels were there – in the flesh – in so many ways. I feel it vital to name my Angels and to thank them publicly for their as-yet-unsung service.

I would like to thank these Angels:

  • To the lady at ISJ Hospital who played the Harp. You said you weren’t an Angel, but someone who plays the harp, unbidden, when it’s the perfect thing at the perfect moment, you had wings.
  • To the last Hospice nurse at ISJ, you did more for Dan than anyone in the hospital. I noticed your wings. Thank you.
  • To Chaplain Jacek Soroka at ISJ, your presence, your words, the comfort you brought and the raw serendipity of your service when we celebrated the life of Scott’s father, with the story of Lazarus was ineffable. We all noticed your wings. Bless you Chaplain, you helped restore even a ember of my faith, watching you help Scott’s family cope.
  • To Miah and Justin, you were my private Angels. You helped care for our family when we needed to help care for Scott’s family. You both have wings, whether you know it or not. What you did helped us do what we had to, to help Sandy and both the Havens and Lazarus families cope. There are not enough thanks, kisses, or hugs to match what you have done for us. I am proud to consider you family.
  • To Janet Ryan, you too are an Angel. I saw your wings when we learned of Danny’s last best practical joke. Your entire family, and you are an absolute godsend to Sandy, and both Scott and I know it, and we feel so deeply honored to have you in our family.
  • To Wendy at Regan Funeral Home in Queensbury, how you herded us cats and helped Sandy cope with Dan’s last final practical joke is way beyond the call of duty for anyone. For all that you did, and for Saturday morning in the parking lot, I see those wings.

There were many others as well, I’m sure, behind the scenes who did things unwitnessed. Whether or not people truly were Angels or had Angels hugging their backs, please know that our happy feelings extend to you as well, despite nobody seeing your good works.