People that throw their support behind a candidate because of their sex or race get to me. I feel people treat our political process like some middle school classroom. That said, the democratic nomination made it clear to the public that anyone has a shot, regardless of gender or color. They are fascinated with the concept and would like to be a part of that historical moment. Many get so excited they forget about the other weighty responsibilities the title “head of state” might entail. The Republicans finally understand how to tap that child-like excitement and curiosity. You can fill the gaps in your demographics by including someone charismatic on your ticket that is a degree different than past candidates. Forget the race to the moon. Expect to see both parties race to fill federal offices with civil servants of every shape and color.

In that same vein, I would like to nominate Goodboy Norman Featherstone as the National Pug Party presidential candidate. I don’t know his platform, but I am fairly certain we’ve not had a pug president before. Who doesn’t love pugs? (Quiet, Ian.) Hmn, I might should have screened him first. Norman, you don’t have any politically dangerous skeletons in your closet?

Coop’s Place was the highlight of the trip. Ian learned about this discrete little joint a while back and won’t leave Nawlins without getting his fix of the killer Cajun cuisine served there. If you peruse the site, I should point out they cook better than they photograph. This looks nothing like what they set before me. How good is it? I would drive 2 hours for a meal there without a second thought. The sausage: tender. The spices: perfect blend. The portions: generous. The ambience: authentic. Oh, and the gumbo! I am ashamed at what I have called gumbo until now. I plead ignorance. Coop’s introduced me to the good stuff. I recommend the sample platter …and a bottle or two of Chemay.

What is Chimay? Well, during out feast Ian’s eyes light up. He rubs them in disbelief and asks the waiter for two bottles of “Chimay”. From what I gather, Chimay is to beer as Mile’s Davis’s Kind of Blue is to Jazz music. People like different Jazz styles. However, all authorities in Jazz music agree agree. Kind of Blue is the best. All other Jazz is compared to it. People looking to start a collection should start there. Likewise, beer connaisseurs agree that Chimay is the best in show when it comes to beer. The Trappist monks win esteemed awards every year with their special brew. Ian was excited to have found the beer because it is not legal to sell in the good ol’ Heart of Dixie. The stuff comes in a wine-like bottle, is topped with a champagne cork and is served in deep short stemmed glasses. The verdict: Verify, yon Trappist monks make a good brew.

So, what did we all learn?

• Chris learned that he looks like a young republican–or so says the man with the blue mohawk.
• Brian learned that Coop’s is hands-down the best Cajun food. Indeed, we all learned a little something about quality Cajun viddles.
• Ian learned there is no end to how long the Sheppard brothers can drone on about a cool video game.
• Tammy learned that nothing barfs up worse than Cajun food–even good Cajun food.
• Sarah learned… well, Sarah is kinda quiet. I’m not really sure what she learned.

Ooh, speaking of Sarah: props to Sarah on her new jearb as web designer at the my ol’ alma marta.

“Doctor! I think I’m loosing my hearing!”

“What are the symptoms?”

“That FOX show about the funny yellow family, but what does that have to do with my problem?”

Speaking of which…

Atlanta has a crappy radio scene. From what I understand, two classic rock stations have been duking it out on the airwaves for the past 25 years. Last week Z93 abruptly changed its format, leaving 96 Rock the undisputed chamption of classic rock in Atlanta.

But what has become of Z93? It is now known as Dave FM. What does it play? Dave Matthews, Dave Bowie, Dave Burn, Dave Hasselhoff …okay so I jest. I am their target audience. They play music rock that was popular during the past decade: a healthy dose of 90s rock, some popular classic rock, a touch of grunge, a hint of selected 80s tunes and just a smidge of pop. The biggest change is Dave has no disc jockies: just music & commercials thus far. Trouble is DJs, B-sides, deep cuts and rarities are what gives a station personality. Dave doesn’t feature any of these thing. They only play the most popular music. There is no one to tell me traffic is backed up west bound on the top end of the perimeteter or quickly brief me in the news or tell me about local weekend events. I will still listen to Dave (and enjoy it), but Atlanta’s radio scene still lacks.

This just in!…oh wait, it seems Dave does plan to put out some DJs eventually. I am happy.

Dad-burn it! The ultimate Homestarrunner fanstuff idea came to me in a dream. I would create a paper model of the mythical Trogdor arcade cabinet and submit it to the brother’s chap so it might be featured on their ever-so-majestic site. Mere moments after I had completed the model I dropped my camera. In the words of Mad-man-oh-man-matt, “Oh, man.” Sad times indeed. I had planned to keep it secret (psha-right!) until my camera could be mended, but who am I to horde the majesty? So in honor of the recent announcment of Peasant Quest, I give you all the very means to create your own tribute to Trogdor!

*I pulled the original design from here. Naturally, the graphics come from a website …oh, and extreme pinball (one of Flyin’ Bryan’s favorite video pinball games).

Excluding camera costs, digital pictures aren’t cheaper to develop nor are they better quality than traditional film. A good “analog” camera tends to be bigger , but so much more durable and cheaper. Heck, you can even get soft copies of analog photos at the developers. So why digital? Two reasons: First, I can see my shot via the LCD screen. Second, I can get to my most recent photos without “finishing off the roll”. When my childhood friend moved away I got a poleroid camera for this same reason. Just this past week I have had two golden photo moments that were perfect for the website. Sure my text is intellegent and witty, but the people want something pretty to look at.

So I scowered the online world to see if I could get a comparable or slightly better model for a similar price. Alas, my camera goes for $250 and the next best thing is $350-$400 . My gadget geek instincts conflicted with my dedication to my frugal budget. In the end I opted to repair the old thing.

That said, let me tell you about Sony’s flat-rate repairs. The closest repair shop is in Texas, so you can imagine how much trouble it would be to get an estimate, approve the repairs, etc. So instead I tell them the model of my camera and they tell me (based on statistics) what it will cost me. The actual cost could be much less–or much more. Devices that are abused are exempt from the flat-rate policy and anyone can opt out of it if they feel they’d be under cost. Very neat idea.

Lastly, Image-Resource is an excellent place for very detailed reviews about digital cameras.

Did you hear the one about the programmer who outsourced his own job? I read about it on Slashdot.org, the “news for nerds” Web site. A pseudonymous poster wrote, “About a year ago I hired a developer in India to do my job. I pay him $12,000 to do the job I get paid $67,000 for. He’s happy to have the work. I’m happy that I only have to work 90 minutes a day, talking code. My employer thinks I’m telecommuting. Now I’m considering getting a second job and doing the same thing.”

The story is instructive, even if it is apocryphal. (Requests for an interview went unanswered.) It’s a case where everyone wins. By subcontracting out the generic parts of his job, the programmer gives himself a promotion. The Indian developer is well paid. The employer gets good code.”

Movie rental plans has been the hot topic here at Unicoi. Several of my co-workers are giving netflix a whirl and they like what they see. During our conversations I learned that Blockbuster has a monthly rental policy similar to netflix. Members are able to rent 2 DVDs at a time and keep them as long as they like for $25 a month. However, the membership is per store. That is, it is not valid at the Blockbuster down the street from the one where the contract was signed. Now Blockbusters aren’t franchises. They are all owned by the Big Ol’ Blockbuster Company^TM. The stores are connected with a good computer system. One Blockbuster can tell you what movies are available at another and they all know when you have late dues. (I am very familiar with Blockbuster’s late fees.) So why limit my membership to a single store? It would vastly increase the variety and accesibility of their movies. Right now, they are merely able to compete with netflix, but if they followed my advice they could crush the budding dot-com.

I’m reporting live from outside Chris Sheppard’s apartment where an Indian (real Indian, not Native American) crashed his friend’s Lexus SUV through the lower floor of my apartment complex yesterday evening. He took out the support, pulled the iron staircase away from the wall and went through some lady’s bedroom window. He then put it in reverse and took out a few cars on the other side of the parking lot. No one knows exactly what went down. Some speculate he was drunk or on drugs. For some reason I have trouble imagining someone of Indian decent hopped up on crack. Maybe I’d have an easier time if Ghandi were more like Bob Marley. Others speculate it was his first time driving. However, the parking lot is very narrow and he had so much momentum. I mean, I’m not sure if I could do this much damage if I tried so I have trouble believing someone did it on accident, and then there are the other cars he hit on the other side of the parking lot after he plowed into the bedroom. Someone claims they heard arguing in the apartment before the incident. Now it all makes sense. Some guy got so mad he took his friends luxury spot utility vehicle and plowed it into the neighbors apartment and a few other cars belonging to complete strangers. That’ll teach him! We’ll have more as this story develops (but don’t hold your breathe).

The moral of the story: “Look both ways before going to bed”

So next time you see a long “to do” list on someone’s white board, do me a favor: add an item like “buy the group cah-hold ones”, “wash Tammy’s car” or “panic” somewhere in the mix.

In other news: as if the prices at the pump were not enough, Georgia Power announced today a 15% rate increase this summer–just as everyone was about to turn on the ol’ AC.

This week CMT ran their 2004 award ceremony over and over. I started to watch a little of it–nothing much on the tube during that rainy Saturday–but it quickly reminded me why I don’t like country music. It occurred to me that chris.sheppard.name is a year old today. In a similar move of shameless self promotion I decided to highlight outstanding moments on this site during the past year academy style:

• Wittiest Title: Et Tu Saturday?
• Most Googled: Eyebrow Envy (runner up: Sleep Nazi)
• Most Popular: the whole friggin’ month of September
• Most blogged month: February
• Average blog-rate: 5 days between entries

In other words: “Harry Potter? Meh.”

I thought it might be fun to try out this particular remedy. Who knows, it might work. The person that mentioned it to Tammy isn’t bald. Last Friday I combined one diced Vidalia onion with a bottle of Wal-Mart brand herbal shampoo. The mixture looks tasty–like a fruit salad you might find at a church pot-luck. A few days have passed and I believe the shampoo is absorbing the nutrients, oxidants and oils. The shampoo isn’t as thick and it has a little oniony scent to it. This might be why the makers of herbal essence shyed away from this blend despite its unique medical properties.

1. Stepmom
2. Throw Mamma from the Train
3. Stop or my Mom will Shoot
4. Psycho

Does anyone know a good website that tracks the dates of important Hallmark^TM holidays like this? Oh, and so everyone will know I got my card in the mail Tuesday. Normanlly this might surprise you all, but remember I am now responsible, proactive Chris

Few people have the luxury of turning their hobby into a career. Fewer still have hobbies that are profitable, secure careers^*. My brother and I are two such fortunate individuals. We knew we wanted to program since we were in middle school.

I lolly gagged through life. I took the path of least resistance. I fumbled my way into a college (where I found other subject that interested me) …all that and I fell into a well-paying, high-demand career^*, just like many of the hard working students next to me. My brother’s story is similar.

April’s story is not like ours. She is responsible, hard-working and talented. She does chemistry, biology, math, history, literature, theater. She sings. She dances. She’s beautiful, stylish, and gets along well with most people. (I can go on.) The question is not “what can April do for a living?” The question is, “what will she most enjoy doing for a living?” I never had to struggle with that question, at least not at her age. April has always been “ahead of the game”. (Heck, she started going to school at age 3.) I imagine she feels like something important has snuck up on her. Something so simple, even her brothers somehow figured it out.

^*Things looked good for a decade or so, but not long after my graduation America began out sourcing my secure profitable career to India.

• Save $6000 by next May! (The grander plan is to get into a home before I am 30. Holy crap. I’m almost 30.)
• Get lean and buff and cut and ripped and what-not (this action item is best read in the voice of Professor Frink)
• to floss daily!

Okay, the last one is not really one of my official resolutions, but the list looks so much better as a group of 3 than 2.

So why now and not in January? I don’t like working out. Oh, I enjoy the results of working out regularly but the time and effort and schedule and aching muscles (that was another Frink moment, for those paying attention) …that I can do without. Convienence helps me work out. Or better said: convienence helps remove my excuses not to workout. In Smyrna, I would have had to join a gym in order to lift weights. My apartment complex only kept aerobic equipment in the commons. My new apartment has a handful of aerobic equipment, 2 leg machines and 8 upper body machines. (They even have 3 TVs and 5 VCRs. Yea, I’ve not figured that one out either.) But wait! There’s more! There are also so many sidewalks within a two mile radius from my apartment complex. They run up and down the busy boulevard, over a creek. It connects to a half dozen well-to-do subdivisions, a country club and a handful of office parks. And if the boulevard should ever get boring, it parallels another road lined with semi-developed land. (Developers rush to remedy the situation.) Best of all, it’s all free (which helps with my first goal).

So say hello to New Chris: responsible, healthy, pro-active, pro-thrifty, anti-pudge. If he seems familiar it is because he went through a similar phase a year and a half ago. Yes, I had some great ideas for graphics and/or photos to accompany this post, but I’m tired. Such is the life of a responsible, healthy, pro-active person as myself.

Talented interviewee does not imply talented interviewer. Indeed, quite the opposite. During the first interview I conducted back at ATI, I was more nervous than the candidate. I was so focused on asking hard questions reveal the true nature of the candidate. Later I overheard my co-worker, “Hollywood” Bill Hagerty, talk to the same candidate. He was so friendly, gentle and calm. He asked what the candidate thought about the company and told him about the Mobile area. I did not learn much in my 5 minute drill so I thought I’d see if Bill’s method was more effective when I interviewed my next candidate.

Fast forward many years later. All this week Greg, Jason and I have been interviewing candidates for two engineering positions (wink, wink, nudge, nudge). Jason gives them the C-programming test. Greg probes them with more technical questions. I try out that humanitarian approach I learned from ol’ Bill.

I’d start by offering them a drink (water and soft drinks, not the hard stuff we keep under the sink). Then I explained who I am and what I do at Unicoi. From there I would explain what we make, who uses it and how the open position fit into that scheme. I got canned responses to most my questions. “When did you start programing” and “do you do this in your spare time” were winning inquiries. Still, I got much more information about the candidate from the questions he asked or when I got them to just tell me a story–any story. That was when their concerns and passions surfaced.

I suggested we take mug shots of all the candidates, post them on the web and let our visitors vote on the next shining star to join the Unicoi team. It’s like NBC’s The Apprentice meets Jim and James’s Hot or Not.

Ian warned me long ago that other web browsers did not render my site properly and I read rants from web designers bemoaning Microsoft’s refusal to adapt clearly documented standards the rest of the galaxy had agreed on. All that and other anti-Microsoft sentiments from years past came to mind in that single moment. I understood the evils of the Microsoft monopoly. They do not work with existing technologies when they are working to capture a new market and when they do capture the market they don’t create anything that adds value to their product (generally speaking).

Before I thought people did not like Microsoft because it was an easy target to pin all their woes. (Ironically, that is one thing I still enjoy about Microsoft’s desktop dominance. It provides the computer world a scapegoat. Hey, and for his salary I’d happily take the job.) I thought Bill had to be doing a decent job. If not then someone else would have taken his business. True, someone might make a better product, but I thought Microsoft’s products had the power, usability, price and quality that hit a sweet spot that catered to most of the people, if not all. I thought companies disliked Microsoft for the same reason Detroit resented Japanese cars and today’s Software Engineers resent outsourcing to India. The losers of a tough competition with high stakes are quick to call foul play. Now I see the errors of my ways and I want to start my repentance by pronouncing a curse upon Bill and his minions: (insert some curse involving loaf juice here)

Greg suggested I code the page so it appears properly in Internet Explorer and real web browsers. First, that is too much work. I’ve tried to keep my site simple. (I still try to balance new feature with simplicity with mixed success.) Second, (but along the same lines of my first point) I want my HTML code to look as simple, sleek and sexy as my web page. All those IE patches and fixes would surely disfigure my attempt to create clean code.

If I did choose to support only one class of browser (real browsers or that pile of hex MS calls a browser) I would have a philosophical delima: do I support the righteous standard or the one 85% of my viewers use. Should I be an idealist or a realist? Should I pursue what is right even if it does not work in the real world? If I don’t, aren’t I one of the 85% that are supporting a heinous product? Okay, so I’m being a little dramatic. I should do my best to support both. _{…stupid bill gates scapegoat…}

I had to move the first of Asimov’s Robot series, I, Robot, to the front of the queue because Hollywood announced it is about to release the I, Robot movie. True, it would not be the first movie based on Asimov’s works, but I feared the media hype would spoil the book for me. Indeed, I’m very fortunate to have finished the Tolkien series before the movies were released. Although I find as time passes I forget more and more of my vision of Middle Earth. Thankfully Peter Jackson did a bang-up job. I don’t much mind if my own visions are crowded out by his.

The synopsis of the I, Robot film involved a technophobic detective investigating a murder that may have involved a robot. Imagine my surprise when I discover there is no such story among the collection of short stories that make up I, Robot. After a little research I learn that I, Robot is to Asimov’s Robot Series as The Hobbit is to Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings Trilogy. The Hobbit is related to the events in The Lord of the Rings, but it is not part of the series. Likewise, I, Robot is a collection of short stories that set the stage for the rest of the Asimov’s Robot Series, but the short stories within are not part of the events of the books that follow.

So I press on with The Caves of Steel, which judging from the summary on the back of the book involves a technophobic detective that must investigate a murder… sound familiar?

The new office was center ring during the hype that followed ATI’s acquisition. My expectations were noticeably lower than what the ring leaders had aimed for. It seemed to just distract from other important matters that were being swept under the rug. To my surprise, Mentor Graphics delivered all they promised and then some. Let me list some of the many amenities: spacious window offices for most engineers, coffee bar on every floor, deluxe massage chair, nice weight room, and a recreation room with air hockey, table tennis and foosball. The whole thing was like a breath of fresh air after my 4 month stay in a sterile cube farm.

Even more refreshing were those smiling faces. Most everyone was exactly how I left them. Those that were not the same had changed for the better. Frank announced his immediate retirement plans. Fat Nasty Eric tied the knot. Uriah’s office is plastered with pictures of his boy. I spent the entire day flappin’ my gums with old friends until my jaw hurt. Come to think of it, I went about the day much the same way I had when I worked there.

I was also very happy to learn some pranksters had dyed the fountain green for St. Patty’s Day. It is good to hear some mischievous people are keeping things lively at the new HQ.

I know this is a lot to lay on you, my faithful readers (and you Canadians & English folk that stumble across my site looking for this guy), but it was not something I could really share until the deal was over.

(Question for the fellas: If you were forced to live the life of either Richard Simmons or Tony Little, who would you choose?)

On a slightly related note…

I did not mean to read so many Wheel of Time novels in a row. The books are like junk food: tasty but not healthy in heavy doses. My problem was I did not have anything else on my shelf when the desire to read hit me. Now I’ve had more than my fill of fantasy. Finishing a book should not be a chore. When I went to see The Passion of the Christ I found a teaser poster for I, Robot. I knew I should read the book before the movie is released. I should clarify. Both The Wheel of Time and I, Robot are fantasy. The former is just popular entertainment (junk food). The later is a classic (full of fiber). Anyway, I found the hard back on half.com for a little more than $3. What I got was “I, Robot: The Illustrated Screenplay”. Worse yet, the ISBN was correct. Half.com did not list the entire title. I don’t think it is worth fighting to get a $3 refund. I’ll just mosey down to Barnes & Noble.

I caught a rerun of Whose Line is it Anyway. Wayne Brady “won” this particular episode. For his reward he got to read the credits while trying to hypnotize the audience with his butt. It reminded me of a time when butt hypnotism and Puerto Rican invasions were the norm. Okay, so the Puerto Rican invasion was never really that common. Actually, I don’t think we ever were invaded. …or were we?

The film’s depiction of the last 12 hours before Christ was crucified was excellent. Yes, the film is bloody, violent, profane and vulgar but respectfully so. Bare in mind, this is a bloody, violent, profane and vulgar event Mel is trying to capture. God explains “He who had no sin was made to be sin for us, so that we might become the righteousness of God“. Try as they might, no one is able to capture that harsh reality on the silver screen but it is important to try. Well, I think it is. Why? I (like many people) better understand God’s love for people when I confront the terrible price Jesus paid to free the captives. I walk away from such a bloody event better than when I began.

Was it a good movie? I find it hard to call it a movie at all. The word “movie” makes me think of a story presented on the big screen. The “story” is the key ingredient missing in The Passion of the Christ. The result is more like a 2 hour clip or maybe a strange documentary.

The crucifixion is the climax in God’s redemptive story. The climax is usually the shortest part of the story. It is also the most important part. Indeed, it is usually the center piece of a good story. Despite the plot’s importance it is not strong enough to stand alone. Rising action must lay a foundation for the climax and explain the events. Without it the climax makes no sense. Mel made a 2 hour film out of nothing but climax. There is little more than a few flashbacks and a conversation between Jesus and the devil to explain who Jesus was and why he had to die. Worse yet, the film merely hints at the resurection with less than 3 minutes of ambiguous footage. Without more scenes like these Mel’s 2 hour climax has little meaning. This is a mistake I’d expect from a freshmen in film school, not the director and producer from Braveheart.

Funny, when asked why he created The Passion of Christ Mel told an interviewer it was to encourage people to read the book. Maybe that is why reading the book is a prerequisit to watching the movie. On a similar note, you may think, “everyone should know the story so why should Mel need to spend time explaining that stuff?” People don’t listen to familiar stories because they think it may turn out differently. They listen because they want to experience it all over again.

As you can see, my feelings about the film are bipolar. I would not discourage anyone from seeing the film. It has value, just not as a retelling of the Easter strory. Those familiar with the story can fill in the glaring gaps Mel left.

Ooh, and I really dig the film’s score. I think I may use my $5 Paypal+Ebay/half.com discount on the it.

But wait! There’s more! Today I came home to a mailbox full of rebates from purachases made in December. So here is my thought: I will buy boat loads of rebate laden products. I’ll buy so many that once the rebates start arriving, I’ll be able to retire early by using them as my new income! Or I could try to make a living from lawsuits. No wait. That’s been done.

The snow put my co-workers in a good mood. You may wonder, “how so?” Well it seems the snow kept most people at home or at least staggered the rush hour crowd. That meant everyone had a beautiful commute and that is always a pleasent surprise.

(hint: the anwer is always C.)

Towards the top of the mountain a hawk flew over our heads. I was reminded of a warning Mr. Schofield gave me about leaving small dogs outdoors. He lives in Cumming, an area that pushes against the Northern Georgia wilderness much like some residential areas in Florida push against the everglades. And just as the gators sometimes “mingle” with the folk in Florida the hawks and owls sometimes hunt in his backyard. Indeed, they have tried many times to take off with the Schofield family rabbit who is not much smaller than my dog. That also brought to mind the many canines that mistake my dog for a furry woodland creature. Needless to say we went down the mountain double-time.

But back to the subject at hand, I think I’ll keep the Chewb. Why? Well, she may be a horrible watch dog, babe magnet and nature-dog but she is good at a few things. For one, no one is ever more excited to see me than Chewbear when I return home. I can just run out to my car (total trip time: 30 seconds) and when I return she is as happy as if I had been gone all week, given she has no dozed off on my bed. She also is a great cuddle monkey once she calms down. True, she is a little attention-crazy but who I am to complain about that?

It was great to wash the bad taste of Lost in Translation out of my mouth with a 5-star film. Which one? Saving Private Ryan. I was scared to see it. When it came out it was praised for its gritty realism. Since then others (like Black Hawk Down) have tried to follow suit. True, I loved Black Hawk Down when I saw it, but could I appreciate Saving Private Ryan was one of the first to sport this no nonsense view of war? I was very old when I saw Silence of the Lambs and Basic Instinct. By that time I had already seen dozens of films that followed in the footsteps and built upon the concepts set forth in those ground breaking films. I tried to appreciate them but I knew I could not do so nearly as well as if I had experienced them when they were first released. I feared Saving Private Ryan might have suffered the same fate? It wasn’t. It is a top notch film worth owning, and I would only say that about the best of the best. The story was simple and posed some very interesting questions. The war scenes were phenomenal. The characters were very believable. I cared about each of them. It also gave me a better understanding of the most important day of the 20th century (and one of the most popular video game level designs ever): the invasion of Normandy. I also recommend watching the special features. The only thing missing were zombies (and don’t tell me that would have blown the accuracy of the film!)

…is a very appropriate title. Evidently something was lost in the translation. Critics acclaim it. It’s up for an Oscar. Well I have my own little award I’d like to present: The Le Blue Le Bomb Award. The movie is slow and normal, but not Seinfeld normal–boring normal. The type of normal I am trying to escape when I watch a DVD. I think there was a plot but it was too bland and petty–and I was too lazy to root it out. I felt a bit like Bill Murray looks in this picture. Modern Japanese culture makes me think of kindergardeners tripping on acid. Hey, but kudos to Bill first nomination.

(As a side note: This past year I have heard accounts of many brave, selfless and charitable acts–on and off the immediate battlefield) from our soldiers in Iraq. They are not media propoganda. They are stories my friend Heidi tells me–stories from her favorite soldier, Mat. The stories exemplify those lyrics I mentioned. An American may not believe the war in Iraq was just, but they can not deny our boys are doing a superior job. Their job is not to justify the war, but the do what they are told to the best of their ability. A mild curse upon anyone that shames our boys in Iraq: may they be banished to an underwater coffin where they are fed loaf juice intravenously and forced to listen to Trio Ipecac!)

Compassionate stories are not uncommon during the Civil War, especially during the very end in April of 1876. It is just evidence that shows the war pitted brother against brother. Have there been wars, especially civil wars, characterized by this kind of compassion? If not, what set our Civil War apart from others? Heaven forbid our country ever be divided again, but if that were to happen do you think people would still have that same underlying passion despite their fierce differences?

Last night I was pleasantly surprised to catch a decent radio show late one evening on Atlanta’s only classic rock station. Each episode featured “rare cuts and rarities” by a particular artist. That night the featured artist was U2. I got to hear “Sunday Bloody Sunday” from War and “Bullet the Blue Sky” from Rattle and Hum. Okay, so the first isn’t so “rare” and “deep” compared to Birmingham’s WZZR or Mobile’s WZEW, but it was refreshing to hear something different over the air. Then that got me thinking. I have those CDs and I had just listened to them not long ago. Why was it so refreshing to hear them over the radio. Simply put: music sounds better over the radio. No, it’s not the quality of the sound. It is the fact that those “deep cuts” and off beat artists I enjoy still get enough props to have the public hear them and maybe, just maybe someone will hear them and enrich their collection …or download the tracks from Kazaa.

If I were an entrepreneurial type and I knew anything about the radio business I’d start a radio station in Atlanta. Every Atlantan whole heatedly agrees we are in dire need. Alas, I am but a lowly engineer who is a follower, not a leader in the world of business. If I did, I would have one of the elite few radio stations that would have a good web site. (Or maybe there is an FCC regulation that requires all radio stations to hire this guy to design their pages…) (Likewise, so many artists use frickin’ flash to design their web stites. Hello? I can’t link to anything but your front page when you do that!)

But the Dead Sea Scroll isn’t the only event attracting the Bible thumpers and Jesus freaks. Mel Gibson’s The Passion of Christ opens February 25. Churches bought out entire theaters all during the opening day in Atlanta. The film looks awesome. Let’s review: Mel has a passion for this film. It’s not about making money or something that might win him an award. Indeed, he sank $25 million of his own money into the film. He is not swayed from his goal by public opinions. When people learned the film might be rate R they asked if that might turn away some of his target audience. He refused to compromise, pointing out that the Bible is not a PG-13 text. Indeed, we hit most of the major sexual perversions before we leave Genesis. Personally, I would think his “target audience” is not turned away by an R-rating. So what is the purpose of his film if not to make money or win acclaim? He says he hopes people will see the movie and then read the book. This looks like something that will be much more memorable on the big screen. Although, I may wait for my more eager brethren to clear the theaters first.

Here is how it works: Click on the title of the entry you want to refer to. Then copy and paste the contents of the address bar into your hyperlink. Whalla! Now wasn’t that simple?

Normally my body has no problem staying up late, and the few times it has protested I coaxed it into play along with a little caffeine. The next morning the trouble starts. Part of my body says, “Hey, it’s like 9:00 AM! We can’t lay here another minute!” and the other part grumbles, “5 more minutes… or hours.” They usually compromise. I get out of bed but only to veg the day away. If all goes well, I won’t have any important obligations that day. Better yet, I might crave a nap. If I can deny myself that nap in exchange for an earlier bedtime there is a good chance I will be back on schedule.

I began to understand how rigid my body’s sleep cycle when I noticed I could not keep up with my friends in college. It all clicked when I remembered the reason my dad would not let me stay up late when I was young. He said we were alike. We both need 8 hours of sleep. Some people could fudge a little, but not us. He said the same thing about studying…that we could not ignore our studies like some people. Neither of us studied 8 hours a day. At least, I didn’t.

TV throws off my sleep schedule more than anything else. My friends have to work 5 days a week, but the boob tube is always ready to play. It takes no physical or mental exertion to enjoy. It is so easy to turn it on as the evening winds down. It seems all the good documentaries start after 9:00 PM as of late.

As a child I heard a the name Noriega but I was a little young to follow the current events. Last night the History Channel aired Targeted: Pineapple Face. It’s the story of who Noriega was and about all the commotion he caused. Sleep can wait. This is edumacational. Targeted: Baby-Faced Psycho, followed it. It was about “One of the world’s most heinous war criminals, Zeljko Raznatovic–aka ‘Arkan’”. I’ve never heard of the guy, which makes me all the more interested. Turns out the show gave a little overview of the Balkan conflict, which served as the setting for the story. Alas, my eyes grew too heavy. I checked the web site to see when the show would air again. Crackers! It was being shown twice tonight and never again. Hey, but I could buy the set for $50 (on VHS, for shame!) Now what am I to do? Read a book about it?

I don’t like politics, but I love history. Hmn, maybe that will a topic for another day…

I began to spruce up the place a little. I got a new keyboard and mouse. The keys on the old one frequently stuck and despite the fact it was new, the mouse skipped like it needed cleaning. Pros need top of the line equipment. The keyboard, monitor and mouse are more important to me than a fast CPU or gigs of RAM. I also brought in some of my personal belongings since we have our permanent office furniture (for better or worse). The place feels a little less sterile, but it’s no Area 51.

Yesterday I mentioned that I would pay $100 a month to work in a nice place and I asked why employers did not invest more in a place their employees spent so much time. After a bit of thought I began to answer my own question. Most features that make an office a nice place to work are taken for granted (even by your truly). Ideally, employees work for the same company for years at a time. It is hard to appreciate things we have come to expect, especially when we have known no different.

You know what perk I miss most? I can remember the day ATI switched from Charmin to the industrial toilet paper. No other company I worked for ever offered such a valuable (if overlooked) amenity.

Last night I woke to the sounds of the delightful couple downstairs fighting. At least, I think they were fighting. I’m was not too terribly coherent. I’ve spent nearly a decade living in dorms and apartments and I’ve never been able to hear my neighbors until now. During my days at USA it seemed everyone could hear their neighbor’s TV, parties and things going bump in the night. I never had that problem. …or maybe I was the neighbor everyone heard. Now that I have that problem I’m not exactly sure how to handle it. I mean, what if the argument was over something really, really serious and I interrupt it to ask if they could keep it down. Or what if one of them were to explode in an emotional rage because of my untimely complaint. I’d feel rather foolish asking them to keep it down and it would be wrong to contact the office (or the police) without talking to them first. So you can see, I got little sleep.

Today we got new office furniture. The new cubes are not much better than the old ones, but that is not saying much. Then again, saying you have a top quality cube is like saying you have a pinto with the all the luxury options. It’s still a pinto. At my first job, everyone had their own office. Some were pretty darn small (my friend Tammy worked out of an abandoned broom closet), but they had four walls that touched the ceiling and a door. My second job we shared offices, which was not all that bad. I had heard about, but never knew how terrible it is to work in a cube farm. I program. It requires a great deal of thought. I think best when I am comfortable and undistracted. Sights and sounds distract me. My cube faces a heavily trafficked door. My eyes turn from the screen anytime anyone enters or leaves. I work in a room full of engineers, only one of which works on the same project as I do. That means every other conversation in the room is not relevant to me and distracts me from my task at hand. I spend at least 8 hours a day at the office. I’d pay $100 a month to work in a place I would not be embarrassed to bring my friends. Indeed, why would a company offer anything less if they hope to encourage people to work longer hours? It is also a pride thing. I associate cubes with sweat shops, beaurocracy, and Dilbert.

It would be easier to accept my fate if I did not have such pride in where I work and what I do. I’d like to work for a company everyone is envious of. I want to be proud of the problems I solve. That sort of idealism sets me up for most my disappointment in the workplace. It is then that I admire people who are detached from work. They put in 8 hours, get their paycheck and find fulfillment elsewhere. That’s not me. I’m afraid of what I might be like if I detached myself like that and I’m even more afraid I won’t be able to return. Bad habits die hard. That’s not to say I’m not proud of Nivis. The jury is still out.

I certainly don’t think they stuck us in cubes in order to save money. I imagine someone bought the cubes that doesn’t have to program in them. We all make mistakes. Oh, but back to my day. All day people kept asking me how I liked the cubes. Mostly I kept quiet or avoided the question. The few times I spoke up people were dismissive. That didn’t help boost my moral.

I’m sure you’ve seen worse days. Heck, so have I. Still, this is a day I wish I had stayed in bed (so long as the neighbors were out and about). I was just looking for an open sympathetic ear… or pair of eyes. Whateva.

Speaking of arch nemesi (which is the plural of arch nemesis): A delightful couple lives below me. They own a Jack Russell Terrier named Aaliyah (after the Queen of all Vampires in Ann Rice’s novel, Queen of the Damned). The dog is pleasant in the company of anyone other than Chewbear. The very sight, or scent or the Chewb sends this dog into a frenzied blood lust. You can always peg a dog’s foremost desire by what it does when it gets loose. Aaliyah made a made dash to my door and began demanding Chewby come out and take what she has coming. Now Aaliyah had to have hunted my dog by scent because she had never seen Chewby or I enter the apartment. How does Trouble feel about all this? She’s only vaguely aware of the other dog’s animosity. Well today we had a break through! Aaliyah began to hang around Chewby with only a mild disgruntled grumbling. Julie (Aaliyah’s owner) and I hope that one day we will be able to let the dogs play together in each others apartments. I think that may be Aaliyah’s plan… “Yes, tolerate… even pretend to like the filthy beast… bide my time until they leave us alone. Then I will exact my revenge.” That’s what I imagine she is thinking.

The Chewb met another interesting pair of canines today: Otis and Sadie. Well, Sadie is more interesting than Otis. Sadie is a young female dog that likes to hump other dogs regardless of size, breed or sex. I know this because whenever any other dog passes the owner tells me (1) the dog’s name (2) the dog’s gender (3) if the dog is friendly (4) if the owner minds it if other dogs hump their dog, even if the dog is female. So it must be common enough to warrant her keeping track of it. Sadie tried to get it on with Chewb but Chewby ran away (again, only vaguely aware what the other dog intended). Sadie was like, “Lend me some suga, I am yo’ neighbor!”

I resolved to post my photos a week after I took them. A week has come and gone and there are no Gatlinburg pictures on the site. Why? Well, I grew frustrated. I saw a trick on TechTV I planned to try on the photos photos I took during the trip. I spent all my creative energies trying to execute the trick in vain. What more, I grew so frustrated I could not keep my keester planted in front of the PC long enough to post them. Give me a little time. Sometimes it is best to walk away from a problem for a little while.

I had also planned to start working out. Shortly after my resolve I learned my apartment complex has no weight sets. I thought I might join a gym but there is a catch. Let me set the stage: I like to work out with people. I don’t know many people in Smyrna yet. Gyms like to lock you in to long term contracts. What if I join a gym only to meet someone I’d like to workout with only to learn they belong to another gym? Then again, what if I meet some cool person with whom I might workout with at the gym I join? The quandary is part “chicken /egg” and part ““Catch-22″. Oh, but all that is just a game I play with myself. In truth I know I would only workout with someone I’m fairly comfortable with–someone I’d probably have known for a while–someone I probably won’t meet until near the end of my contract if I ever signed one. I’m actively scouting for a place to pump iron.

Last year I started working out a few months before January. Once I started I realized I would be big and buff by the time the slouchers flocked to the gym in January. Then I could complain about the crowd and joke about how many would stick it out through February. Well, despite my progress I never met my goals last year and this year I may have to flock to the gym with the other slackers. How embarrassing! Maybe if I start my resolution on January 15 I can avoid the crowd and the embarrassment…

But I’ve not yet decided if I will resolve to uncover my firm physic this year. There are so many things I don’t tend to like I should, each deserving a resolve. There are so many, I’m not sure I’ll have time to tend to them all whole-heatedly. I think I treat my resolutions more seriously than most people, and I find I am pretty successful. I usually keep most of them until the weather gets warm and I keep about half of them until November/December. Impressive? They are usually something simple, yet tangible like “raise my GPA” or “save $1500 by December”.

One resolution I have settled on is updating the ol’ site. You may not know it but I’ve taken many-a-picture since I arrived in Atlanta but to many people’s dismay I’ve never posted them to the site. My excuse: Cleaning and commenting each shot can be tedious and I never settled on a format to fit them on these web pages. No longer! When I have a small collection of photos I’ll have them posted within a week–or two. Okay, a week! Jeez.

A few weeks back the girls from First Baptist Cumming were planning a quick trip to Gatlinburg the first weekend of the new year. Sounds like a great time to show my resolve.

You see, I ordered Charter’s High Speed Internet Access, but not cable TV. However, the cable guy was not able to put a trap on my line to stop the TV signals. That means I get cable TV whether I like it or not. Which I do… like it, and not. You see, I’m addicted to he boob tube. new jeorhb?”. It’s a mixed blessing. There are some perks I did not have at Unicoi and there are some things I miss. There are about 120 people at Nivis. Most all of them I have met started this past year. Maybe I should not be so surprised. The company is only 5 years old. Speaking of surprises, I’ve started wearing slacks to work and shaving on a more regular basis. They guys here seem to favor the business casual attire. No more shorts. No more pajamas. No more costumes. Well, Spiderman will visit on casual day.

Let’s flashback to Thursday afternoon, the day of the big interview. The first thing I notice in Nivis’s foyer is a man in a 3-piece suit holding a leather folder. By the look on his face he did not belong to Nivis. He smelled like an interviewee. Indeed, he look as if he just arrived. I took a seat beside him and politely asked if he was here for an interview. He smiled and told me he was. Later I learned he was here for the same position so we assumed there must be more than one opening. When we first saw Mr. Goller his eyes were very wide and he told us there had been a big mix-up. We went around introducing ourselves and I was surprised to learn the other candidates name was Chris. During the interview Mr. Goller explained that he was impressed with my resume and told his secretary to arrange an interview with “Chris”. That she did, but it was not with me.

Fast forward to Tuesday. Interviews are similar to first dates. Like a first date, both parties try not to look desperate. Unlike first dates, I’ve never kissed an interviewer. I did not want to interrupt Mr. Goller’s day with a phone call concerning the tardy offer. It seemed desperate and/or demanding. Yet Mr. Goller never gave me his email address. By that afternoon I got the nerve to call. I planned inform him I might take a while to respond due to out-of-town holiday plans. He tells me he sent the offer, paused and let a mild curse under his breath. From what I gather, they send the offer to the wrong Chris. A few hours later I got and accepted the offer, and just this morning I signed up for a new apartment.

My pocket book will still be a little lean this holiday season, but at least I won’t be a poster child for the “Christmas Shoes”. Indeed, I am blessed. Speaking of which, thanks for the prayers people.

So much to write! I’ll have to tend to it more later tonight. That is the reason I put the site back up a little before I had finished the renovations. Between interviews, exploring Smyrna and apartment hunting Chewbear and I have had little time for anything else! Not to mention when I move I expect the site will go down for about a week. I thought it best to give you all as much time with this, your beloved digital rendezvous, before it had to go down again.

Meanwhile, Chris needs to go have a “Good-bye Beer” with Greg.

I’ve decided not to teach. Ah, semi-safe, familiar ol’ software development. I best send out those resumes, eh?

I had not posted much about work because I know a have a handful of readers from my old place of employment and a web author must be responsible with what he posts. Just to let everyone know, Unicoi is not broke, nor is it going out of business. Start-ups go through lean months. ATi went through lean months before I started there. It went through lean months before they were acquired, but the company rallied. (Um, right guys? … Guys?)

Well, I discovered how one goes about enlisting to become a substitute, sorta. In Gwinette County you just call up all the schools and say, “Hey, I’d like to sub. This is my degree and this is what I think I’m good at.” I also enlisted to take the Praxis I test, which is required by most states before one is given command of the nation’s youth. I was frightened at first because in order to clep the Praxis Georgia requires a near perfect score on the ACT, SAT or GRE. After a bit of research I discovered it’s a pretty basic test. Ah, but there is more. The Praxis II tests a subject’s aptitude in specialized subjects like General Science, Biology, Art, Mathematics and History. Many employers request the applicant have taken a Praxis II in the field they wish to teach. Well there is a problem. I’m a rather well rounded guy who would be happy to teach any core course (other than physics, and basic arithmetic). Each test is about $70, and some subjects have between 3 to 5 tests! Which to take? It doesn’t matter, because the Praxis II is not offered until January. Well, that did not make me feel much better. I need a counselor, and what luck! Next Thursday is the 2003 Fall Georgia Teacher Recruitment Fair. Well, that and I’ve decided to email the half dozen teachers I’ve met during my short stay in Atlanta.

What will become of Chris? Tune in next time, same bat-time, same bat-channel!

Today I got news that is a few shades under 148 dolors, I think. The company can not afford to pay me for the month of November. Sad times, eh? To those unfamiliar with this practice, the idea is I am motivated to work for free by the handsome rewards I may receive once the company pulls out of these lean times. Thank God I began saving for a house. Thank God I never bought that Hitler action figure, or The Complete Farside Collection, or that new party game, or that new Segway or that NFL football team… But I digress. I think I can make it a month, but two would be painful. The news did not hit me nearly as hard as I would have expected. I didn’t whig or get bummed. Why? Well, maybe it is time to start a career in education. There are so many young minds I would like to mold. Generations of youts following my lead! I’ll create an army and take over the world! …but first I better re-work this resume.

Yea, this whole career switch is going to be tough. Since high school I’ve focused most of my energies into becoming the uber-geek that is one with the Matrix. It’s almost like starting from scratch. Almost. I’ve had an itch to command a classroom for a long time. Now it’s grown into a rash (or maybe I should abandon this metaphor). I am at the point that when I tell people I program for a living I always think, “but if I could do anything, I’d like to teach”.

I briefly considered e-panhandling. I wonder what Karyn is up to these days?

Anyway, I suppose there is more to write, but I’m tired. Feel free to send me emails that say, “oh cwap.”

Okay, Okay… before I go I leave you with this hobo link. Move over Japanese characters & tribal patterns! I think these will be the new tattoo rage!

So as I said, the trip was good. True, it would have been better if I had extended the visit into the week and I had solidified more of my plans. I never get to see many people when I fly by the seat of my pants like that. Then again, that was the charm of the trip. I just sat around with Tammy and Ian all Sunday. Tammy and Ian are good people to loaf around. Okay, they might not call it loafing since they were showing their stuff at the Fairhope Art Fair. It was sorta like my Senior Design Project. I kept good company while other people did all the work. Could it be that I emptied myself of my urge to loaf that Sunday?

Maybe I should use some of this motivation & energy to add a little more content to the ol’ site…

This evening there was a mighty wind that blew through North Atlanta during my ride home. The sky was dark and full of ominous clouds. A big ol’ pine tree fell across a remote part along Buford Dam Road. The guy in front of me turned around, it must have added 10 minutes to his drive home. Something came over me. I got out and started tossing the debris aside. I had no idea what I planned to do with the huge trunk. The wind was howling and I could hear other trees falling in the distance. Moments later a half dozen guys were following my lead. No need to talk much. We just did what we had to do, and that is why it felt so good. I could almost hear Bob Seger’s Like a Rock playing in the background. The ladies behind my car leaned out to thank me. Heck yea. I deserve one of these.

I got the crud. I think I caught it from the new guy, Jason. Then I gave it to Chewb. That got me thinking, wouldn’t it be gross catch the crud from your dog. I mean, Chewb and I are tight and I’m cool with the idea she might meddle in my germs but it’s another thing altogether for me to get ill from her. Well, I’ve been taking in a few zombie flicks recently. Everyone knows people become zombies either from cultic rituals, space radiation or biologically engineered viruses. — What if I caught such a virus!? I couldn’t see a doctor. The only two cures either a lethal head trauma or being burnt to death–either of which he’d no doubt prescribe me. I could not very well monitor myself. From what I gather the craving for brains follows the loss of the victim’s sanity. Ah, but Cheby is smaller than I so I figured she would succumb to the virus first. I spent the day watching her. Naturally she can’t mumble “brains…” but I thought I might notice a stiff shamble in her stride or maybe her looking lustfully at my huge noggin’. Fortunately the dog (and I) are okay, but we really are ill. It suppose it was all for the best. It gave me a reason to lounge about and play video games all weekend. If I had felt any better I might have wasted my time trying to finish that project at work so I could extend my stay in Mobile. As much as I wish I could extend my visit, my weekend efforts would have most likely ended in vain.

So it is decided, sorta. I leave for Mobile sometime Friday: no earlier than lunch; no later than 8:00 PM. I plan to stay as long as I can, but no later than 8:00 PM on Sunday. I plan to visit an art exhibition Ian & Tammy are in. It’s free, and I imagine they’d love to have lots of visitors if you’d like to come. Oh, and let me not forget the whole reason for my trek to Mobile: to see Karrie ‘Bob’ wed. I plan to sign the wedding registry “Spence, your red faced monkey of love”. I’ve never had the gaul to ruin someone’s registry by scribbling “scrump diggity you crazy kids!” but her parents call me Spence. They all know I’m loose cannon. Today I thought about changing my signature to a monkey head doodle. My last attempt to change it to a toaster doodle never stuck.

Speaking of weddings: I just got word Flyin’ Bryan has asked Just Jenny to be his bride–and she said yes! Now I figure a bride & groom are too busy planning the big day to properly spread word about the wedding, so I took it upon myself to forward the news. Now this wedding is more significant than most. You see, Flyin’ Bryan is the last male Op’t Holt on the planet. That’s right, if he were to die without procreating we would never have to wonder about which letters to capitalize or where to put the apostrophe in that exotic last name. Well, unless you were to write about the deceased–and knowing Bryan he will be a hot topic long after he kicks the bucket. Oh, but our wedding list does not stop there! Rachel & Jacob are gonna tie the knot! I dunno if this will be before or after she moves to Coldorado next year. Pop quiz: What do Bryan, Jenny, Jacob and Rachel have in common? Answer: I did not know any of them were even dating when I caught wind of the news. Heck, I heard Flyin Bryan was engaged to loaf. Scrump diggity, you crazy kids!

Kristina lived in Huntsville, and she drove down to…er..see a movie. Okay, so I was not the most creative host at age 15. Holy cwap, that was 11 years ago. I am an old fart. Anyway, after we stopped using the service she sent me Christmas cards and I tried to reply in a timely manner. She moved off to Duluth to attend Georgia Tech and used her degree to start a career out of Duluth. A year or two before I moved to Atlanta she had transferred to the Carolinas. Being a loyal alumni, she’s flying in for the homecoming game and asked if I’d like to use her extra ticket. Most the boys here at Unicoi Systems are Tech graduates so I’ve heard a great deal of hoopla over the game: tailgating, crazy modified cars, grill outs, parades, beer, robots… Oh yea, and football. Sounds like a good Saturday to me.

Speaking of visiting old friends… People: I’m hoping to make an extended visit to the Port City during the weekend of the 16^th in order to see Bob get hitched. So long as nothing dire happens, I should be there for the weekend. I hope to stay an extra day (or two) before (or after) the weekend, but I have two very important projects on my plate and I could not take leave without completing them.

Last night I dreamt I was debugging code. This morning I am mentally exhausted. It wasn’t the sort of dream where my subconscious works out the day’s problems whilst my body slumbers. It was just going through the motions: stepping through functions and examining watch values at nauseam. This is not what I meant when I ask for an extra hour in the day.

Speaking of hours in the day: Atlanta drivers spend 55 hours delayed in traffic each year. We’re ranked 13th in the nation, tied with Dallas. Los Angeles tops the nations charts with a whopping 90 hours each year. I’d have expected larger numbers. I did some figuring. People with a 25 minute commute spend about 13,000 hours behind the wheel each year without any traffic delays. In light of this, an extra 55 or 90 hours doesn’t seem so important. Ah, but get a load of this: If I were to get a house north of Cumming I would spend only a measly 5,200 hours each year–well, plus the time I spend behind freight trucks full of Tyson chickens.

Unicoi Systems is located in a small office condominium park that is an easy target for solicitors. We have a sign that clearly tells them they are not welcome, but they accost us anyway. It is my job to toss them out on their rump. I would often ask, “Are you a solicitor?” to which they would often reply, “No, I’m just selling…” Possibly they did not understand the sign so I posted the definition on the door next to the sign. None were deterred. Hence I no longer feel obligated to be polite.

Well now that you know the situation, last Friday I heard the door creak and a feeble, “hello?” of a solicitor but I was deep in nerdvana and Scott got to the door before I could get out of my seat. It is too bad, because last Friday was national Talk Like a Pirate Day and my conversation would have gone something like this… (for better effect, try reading my lines with one eye closed.)

Me: Avast!
Soliciting Scum: Yes, I’m here selling…
Me: Arg! And there be yer first mistake, lass. Ye see, t’captain don’t take kindly to being disturbed. Why, he’d have us boil ya in oil, tarrr and feather you or worse yet, walk t’plank!
Solciting Scum: …but you don’t have a plank…
Me: Arrrrrrrg!
Soliciting Scum flees in terror.

Later that night the guys and I were having a few cold ones at the Buckhead Brewery. They got a kick out of the idea so I began thinking, how else could I have fun with solicitors? Then it struck me. Next time I hear a solicitor I plan to answer the door with no shirt on. Lord knows I’ve answered it in less, but when I do I at least tip. Poor Gvictorb. If anyone can think of more fun ways to turn away solicitors, let me know.

As fate would have it the song made its way onto a mixed CD Courtnie brought for our drive to the Occoee. It’s hard to do the song justice in the car, but the girls insisted I sing along. I tried to explain how no one sings Brick House. They perform it. Just then the funk seized my body and I burst into song. It is something akin to possession. Indeed, if you’ve seen me dance you’d agree no man would voluntarily humiliate himself like that. The ladies were in stitches before I even got to the “ShakidownShakidownShakidow-down”. Immediately everyone caught karaoke fever. Unfortunately, some of the ladies were under age and while alcohol is not necessary to have a good time at karaoke, most of the karaoke joints are bars. That is when Christopher Robinson told us of a place he knew just a block or two from my office that permits minors. I think it is a bar, and I’m not sure how all that works legally but I think I will check it out.

Speaking of Brick Houses, the original Brick House, Karrie ‘Bob’ Lynn is soon to be wed. If my plate is relatively clean I may drop by Mobile in order to see her get hitched. I’ll let you know at the close of September.

Oh and don’t be forgetting that Friday be Talk Like A Pirate Day, me hearties! (Arg!)

You wanna know what else I have noticed about Atlanta weather? It rains–a lot. I arrived the day the big drought ended. (Just call me Maud’dib.) The first few months were a constant “Seatle” drizzle. These last few have been “Orlando” Thunderstorms (strong but quick and gone without a trace). Two or three times a month I see huge electrical storms in the distance at night.

The weather drives new comers from California batty. They tell me that back home everyone knew what the weather would be like: 60 degrees and sunny. There was hardly a need to look outside or catch the weather. A clear morning sky in Atlanta has no bearing on the afternoon weather. It may rain. It may storm. It may last all day or it may last 10 minutes. I like it. I dig rain and variety is the spice of life. Then again, it might not be so welcome if I were planning an outdoor activity with friends.

Two weeks ago lightning struck a coworker’s house. Dale already had a fear of lightning. He’s got a place to stay and insurance is taking care of him.

I suppose you are all curious about the wedding, eh? Well tough! This is a site about me, not Brian or Sarah. Ok, The wedding very nice–simple & small–very Brian/Sara-esque. I was practically glowing during the reception. (Tammy’s glitter got all over me.) I met a whole slew of people I’m now related to. Pity the bride and groom forbade video cameras during the ceremony. Brian gave the best “I do” I’ve ever heard. (Then again, I’m not usually close enough to hear the “I do”) Ah, but once the vows were over they were rushed by a dozen or so relatives armed with film & flashes. I wonder if I will be allowed to confirm my marriage vow with “True that”? Probably not.

I followed Tammy & Ian on a short photo safari before the wedding. Our journey lead us to Oak Mountain where we met a small herd of goats roaming about the parking lot beside the stables. Goats are cool. God does seems to prefer sheep to goats. Maybe he will let me keep an eye on them in the High Country. I think God prefer the sheep because the goats smoked the “Weed of the Knowledge of Good & Evil”. That would explain their funky eyes and why they eat tin cans. (bad joke) After the photo shoot with the goats (and some horses) we made our way up to Peavine Falls. Lots of pictures were taken. There is going to be some good stuff in HolgaHouse’s next batch.

Cwap! When I bought the I-Opener it was in a box full of Styrofoam peanuts. Naturally I assumed it was safe to resell it in the same package. Little did I know that packing was not static safe. Some of the components were zapped in transit. I refunded most of his money. This is going to put a serious dent in my savings for a Hitler action figure (and Homestar Runner figurines).

My key stopped working in my driver’s side door a few weeks ago. The tumbler looks all boogered up. I figure someone mistook my car for their’s and tried a bit too hard to unlock my car with the incorrect key. Greg suggested someone may have tried to break into my car. He told me Hondas are the most commonly stolen cars. When I asked why he explained that the parts can be sold for more money than the car is worth as a whole. So now I’m thinking, maybe I should take my Honda apart and sell each piece for easy profit. Heck, I could sell them using my mad ebay skillz.

One more automobile story I heard from someone here at work: BMWs are worth more after 30,000 miles than they are when they are new. A few years back there was a class action lawsuit filed by customers of a rental car company. The company charged the customers for the depreciation value of the car. That is, the difference between what the car was worth before they it was issued until it was returned. Well the BMWs appreciated instead of depreciated and the customers felt the rental company owed them the “negative depreciation”. I have no idea how it turned out. It’s just a funny thought.

Bob Hope died this week at age 100. He was born before the Wright brother’s famous flight. He lived through the rise of flight, the automobile and two world wars. At 26 I have seen the 80s come and go.