9 days without posting.
Very unlike me.
Unfortunately, work has sapped most of my energy and attention these days. I'm doing my level best to get a lot of things done before I take some time off between Christmas and New Years'.
Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere....I'm just....busy.
I looked back in my calendar and realized that I missed helping you celebrate a major personal holiday last week.
Forgive me, pal.
Kal tagged me for one of those "dig in your archive" posts.
Only one problem: my 22nd, 23rd, and 24th posts aren't long enough or content worthy for this little exercise.
What to do? Do I violate that sacred oath that binds me to obey the tag, the whole tag, and nothing but the tag? If I sin, is there a confessional?
Help a brother out, will ya?
Don't get me wrong. I like the B-52's just as much as the nexy guy. However, hearing those endless Ray Manzarek-like organ riffs and the choruses of "Rock Lobster" playing ad infinitum in my empty skull is enough to drive ya batty.
Every so often I pay attention to the song, then I'm reminiscing about the early 80's and mentally roller-skating at the local rink.
*sigh*
I'm sure, if I really applied myself like my parents and teachers told me, that I could do *way* better on this test. I...I...I just *know* I can.
But I sure wouldn't be married anymore if I did.
This is defined as self-inflicted death doing something monumentally dumb. Whether or not this leaves someone eligible for a Darwin is a matter of some debate.
I draw your attention to this article.
The mother of our late, lamented dearly departed has called for a ban on these "pen guns"
Right.
That's the equivalent of banning pharmaceuticals to prevent overdoses, or Mama Cass' family calling for a ban on roast beef to avoid senseless chokings.
Granted, this death is a tragedy for its sheer preventability and I do question the necessity of such firearms on the open market. There's a reason why any group using firearms spend so much time on safety precautions; to prevent dumb shit like this from happening.
If the NRA and their supporters want to enforce their somewhat misinterpreted rights (insofar as I understand them, and I'm not an expert) under the Second Amendment, let there be a campaign on safe handling instead.
Maybe that makes too much sense.
(I'm sure I'll piss someone off with this post, but....)
I'm not particularly interested in the miserable year that will occur, if DW's prediction (77) also holds true.
Its been a busy few days at the Stone/Shagwell household.
We got an early start on Thursday with a phone call from my father that his wife had died. She was diagnosed very early this year with a rather pervasive brain tumour. She had been suffering a variety of health problems which forced her retirement from GM. After a couple of years of treatment for related issues I guess they figured out this was the cause.
Anyway, she got a 12-18 month prognosis and didn't even last that long. So the funeral is Sunday.
I can't say I particularly want to go because my father and I aren't that close anymore and I certainly wasn't close with his wife (spouse #3). I think I can count on both hands the number of times I saw her over the course of his time with her. A sense of family obligation is overhwelming my relative ambivalence. (Pun intended).
(Yes, its a complicated relationship with much unpleasant history that may be the subject of a future blog.)
In other news, we have been working away on a few things DW has been demonstrating her considerable taping and plastering skills on the new drywall downstairs. (Reno #1). I took some time yesterday to do some woodworking, specifically, a very simple, yet functional cabinet for many of the add-ons for my drill press. I do love Shop Notes magazine for all those little ideas (Reno #2). Today was spent on things Christmas-y. Its in this sort of thing that DW and I agree to disagree. For me, holiday decorating, etc lost its allure many years ago. DW, while not so fussy about the holiday itself, loves the decorative/crafy aspect; particularly because of the Wondertwins. The pre-wired fiber-optic and lights-included Christmas tree was dragged up from the basement and installed. While one doesn't require a joint degree in Civil and Electrical engineering to assemble this thing, it doesn't necessarily hurt. However, the tree was set up and all the lights work. (Reno #3). Of course, one can't have a tree without all the remaining household decorations being put up. Down came the fall garland from the banister and up went the two piece pine garland. We dug through the various boxes to find numerous snowman-related decorations, along with stockings, wreaths candles......the list is almost endless. We even found a string of lights which come with a little controller that lets you change the blink pattern. This is one seriously long and high tech string of lights. We tested them out while laying the whole string on the floor, trading bulbs with a string we were going to dump off to DW's ex (along with all the other decorations we located and that he'll refuse to put up.) We put up the lights running from around an upper floor doorway, down the banister and around the main post at the bottom. But if anyone can tell me why (after extensive testing and troubleshooting) the strand controlling the blue bulbs refuses to work... *sigh* My contribution to the decorating was the can of spray snow which is now artfully applied to the front windows and the storm door. (Reno #4)
So that's the news and I...am.....outta here! (Thank you, Dennis Miller)
"...that is the question which preoccupies us. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the..."
Aw, fuck it.
Yeah, its Wednesday. I want to blog but don't have the faintest idea what to say.
I'm disappointed to note that I seem to be de-evolving in the TTLB ecosystem. Granted, I won't attain primate status, but having dropped back to insect I fiind myself disappointed.
Of course, DW put it all in perspective for me when I kvetched about it. "So remove it. Do you blog because you like it or do you blog because you need the attention?"
(Do I really have to answer that?)
Another childhood staple has gone.
Stan was the co-creator of the "Berenstain Bears" book series. He and his wife, Jan, authored the books along with Ted Geisel (a.k.a. Dr. Seuss)
I remember reading those books until the covers practically fell off. What J.K. Rowling is doing for kids now, Stan, Jan, and Ted did for kids when I was young. The books got kids to read, and to learn while they were being entertained. The tales were timeless and just as fun to read today as they were 30+ years ago.
Their sons are carrying on the legacy...
Bill Engvall is never around when you need him.
A late night disaster (masquerading as a hockey game), coupled with less sleep than I prefer has made for a rather interesting morning.
I'm working up in The Bunker today and had to leave the house early for the drive. I forgot that part of my usual route is closed for construction, so I had to take a less-than-ideal road to get here. It was raining and dark, just to make the drive that much more fun.
Upon safe arrival at the bunker (a miracle all on its own), I discovered that not only had I left my lunch behind, I had also managed to leave the house without the power supply for my laptop.
I'll take my sign any time, Bill.
Edit: I forgot to mention the little love note left on my pillow from my DW when I rolled in from hockey at oh-dark-hundred last night. At least the evening ended with a smile. :)
After reading a note on canoe.ca about the fallout from the season-long antics by this 'spectacle of nature', I tracked down the actual arbitrator's ruling on the whole sordid affair.
This guy is a poster child for overindulged, ego-centric athletes with too much money and not enough humility. He needs a serious reality enema.
Read through the transcript and you'll wonder why he didn't get the boot sooner. I'm pretty sure Lawrence Phillips can tell him what life is like "on the outside".
http://sports.espn.go.com/nfl/news/story?id=2234819
What a knob.
Arnold is dead. Mr. Miyagi, too. *sigh*
CNN Obit for Pat Morita.
I think I preferred his M*A*S*H guest roles better.
Not directly inspired by Kal's recent post, but...
Captain Jean-Luc Picard- You are the thinking
person's captain. You contemplate everything
before putting it into action. While you are
indecisive at times, you do so to insure an
equatable solution no matter what the cost.
Which Star Trek Captain are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
All things considered, this isn't a bad choice. I kinda like Archer, though...
I know it sounds like a bad poker hand, but I've been tagged by my DW and by Duff.
10 Years ago I was: just moved in with my girlfriend (at the time) and working for a placement agency as a headhunter and not really doing very well at it.
5 years ago I was: recently promoted to a managers job at the corporate training centre, and about to split from the g/f above (mutually and amicably, I should add) and generally feeling like the world was my oyster.
1 year ago I was: Contemplating wedding plans and step-parentage and many other things.
Yesterday I was: Feeling work-frustrated but going home to my "happy place" doing some more reno work on the basement.
Five snacks I enjoy:
Five songs to which I know all the lyrics:
Five things I would do with $100 Million:
Five places to run away:
Five bad habits:
Five things I would never wear:
Five favourite TV shows:
Five biggest joys in my life:
Five favourite toys: (toys? um, how about tools?)
I'll tag dtrini :)
Back in my high school days, I played drums. I'm sure my father would have preferred for me to stick with the saxophone, but he supported my interest and enthusiasm.
I was largely unschooled and relying on a reasonably good sense of rhythm and listening to other people play. One of my major influences was Neil Peart. Of course, most drummers get into equipment specifics and we know all sorts of kit minutiae...and I recall slavishly drawing out the layout of his massive kit over and over and over (hey, its a Drummer thing....)
Anyway, I've always been a Rush fan and a great admirer of Neil's, not just as a performer, but also as a literate and articulate person. One of my more treasured possessions is a handwritten postcard from him (20 yrs ago, now) offering thanks for a piece of fan mail I sent to Modern Drummer magazine. (Note to self: Get that framed!)
So one of my colleages happened to wander over to my veal-fattening pen cubicle just around lunchtime and mentioned, "I dunno what kind of music you like, or if you're a Rush fan or not.."
Me: "I'm a huge Rush fan"
JF: "They have one of Neil Peart's drum kits on display down at Sam the Record Man. I think it's there until 3."
Me: ...
Holy crap...
So....off I went down to Sam's...walked in....found it.....drooled and dreamed. There's something to be said about the latent power of a set of drums.
And just for those of you who want to appreicate a virtual "Neil" experience, check out this jaw-dropping animated sequence.
Tell me....why did I sell my kit 10 yrs ago? (oh yeah...I needed the money...and you can't serenade someone with drums)
Its gonna be a nasty winter season if the recent forecast is any indication. Normally T.dot manages to escape the early onset and the current trend is that the flakes don't usually appear until the fat guy and his herd do their annual thing. I know that its winter and it's the Great White North, but hey...just because I experience the season doesn't mean I like it. The weather guessers tell me that I can expect not one, but two snowfalls this week.
This was definitely not in the brochure.
Shocking everyone, the Blue Meanies turned in a stellar performance last night. For my part I was pretty bored in the first period, facing exactly one shot on goal. However, the heat got turned up in the second and kept at a good simmer during the third. It was some furious forechecking and persistence that won the game. I just did my bit to keep us in it. A few goal mouth scrambles, one stopped breakaway and one very memorable stop off the top shaft of my stick just kept the team amused. For all the really shitty games I play, I occasionally get one like that to remind me why hockey is fun.
However, that same fun can't be said about my beloved Argos and their second-half collapse on Sunday. So much for a return trip to the Grey Cup... *sigh*
Speaking of poor suffering bastards, Larry has surfaced. Apparently he's been working his tail off and still managed to find himself on the outs with his boss. Go send some love and support his way, will ya?
If you're looking for a laugh at someone else's expense (C'mon.....I know you are, and don't try to tell em different) check out "Nobody Cares about Joe", a slightly Canadian-obsessed hockey fan in Ohio. Check out his story about a midget co-worker. Personally, I thought it had potential to be a successor to Digi's "FIB" tale with a little more creative effort.
For the life of me, I don't know why I do this to myself, but I really need to stop the late night "I had a late hockey game and can't sleep so I'll watch TV and nosh" thing. Got some wicked acid reflux this morning. *ugh* I'm definitely too old for this shit.
On the home reno front, inbetween trips for the boy's Cadet obligations tonight, I think I'll get started on laying out and cutting some of the steel studs for the remaining basement walls. I should be able to get *some* of that work done easily, especially because the cutting of the studs is such a breeze. (There's a joke in there somewhere, I just know it.) I just have to figure out how to work around the ducting.....but I do love a challenge. I'll save the wiring of that damned outlet for later. I'm not brave enough to tackle the breaker box yet.
Hello again, gang. It's been a loooooooonnnnng-ass weekend, but a very productive one. Okay, so the weekend kinda stretched into today to get everything done, but why split hairs?
With the exception of installing the bi-fold door, the new storage area under the stairs is DONE!
Here we see some of the steel stud wall prior to all the drywall being added (as told during the last chapter.) Please note the silly-ass ducting layout in the upper-right corner. Fucken' subdivision construction...
Here's my DW armed with the drill helping to put up one of the last sheets on the partition.
Et, voila! We have WALL!
This weekend's efforts were focused on enclosing the basement stairs and adding drywall to the area under the stairs so we can have a nice, tidy storage space.
(Sidebar story: We went to Home Despot to get everything we needed for this weekend. Unfortunately, my F-i-L's van was only 46" wide on the inside, rendering it useless to carry a large amount of material 48" wide. Fortunately, HD kindly makes a 10' cargo van available for short-term rental for folks to take larger items home. But even in a place the size of the 'Bee, they only have ONE van available. When we went in, we figured we'd manage one of two things: we'd either get the van, or we'd arrange to have all the stuff delivered. It was a pretty simple list, really: 10 sheets of ½" drywall, one sheet of ½" G1S plywood for backing the stairs, 2 1"x10"x8" and 2 1"x8"x8' boards for shelving, plus assorted hardware, drywall corner beading, etc. etc. HD tells us that we have to have our purchase done before we can ask for the van. At 1:15 PM it had gone out and it was 3-ish when we arrived.
So, we got it all done and DW went to see about the van while I got the stuff out to the loading area outside. She calls from the desk to tell me that the van just went out and wasn't expected back for another 90 mins.
SHIT.
We can get the stuff delivered on Monday, but we really, really, really wanted to have it all available to work on Sunday. Brilliant woman that my DW is, she suggested that we see if we can get a van from one of the rental places for a quickie rental. After a moment's confusion about cargo vans vs. cube vans we were told there was one available where we rented last time. Only one snag: They closed at 4:30 and it was 3:58.
Long story short, I raced to the rental place and grabbed the van, unfortunately leaving DW guarding our hoard in somewhat chilly weather. Needless to say, that was a scramble we didn't want to go through again.)
On the way home, we snagged a brad nailer (nice & cheap, too) to help us with the stair work.
Unloading was a complete bitch, but we managed to get everything we needed downstairs and ready to roll.
The in-laws came over later than night and enjoyed the hockey game and a nice buffet meal with us. DW was downstairs sorting out the last of her massive Avon order for The Girl's choir and I sat upstairs with F-i-L discussing various options for the ceiling of the basement area and some imminent plumbing issues for the move of the laundry room to the basement.
Sunday rolled around and we got right to work. Okay....so we slept in and got to work at 11AM...again with the hair-splitting!
We started in on the backing for the stairs. I got to break in my circular saw, complete with laser guide. Apparently you need to look like a CSI tech if you have a tool with on-board laser.
The brad nailer worked like a dream and the stair backing went in with no problems. I took a moment to admire and appreciate the handiwork from the inside.
In typical Stone fashion, there's one little visible error. On one of the backings I had the good side facing inwards, revealing a nice knot. We decided to make the best of it and commemorate the error in carpenter's pencil.
However, we had our stairs backed!! Eventually we'll carpet them, but that will be one of the final steps in the basement project.
We added the drywall to the back of our new storage area before putting up shelves. We decided not to plaster or spackle the space in there because the drywall was just to make sure that stuff didn't slip off the backs of the shelves between the studs. (NOTE to the bright-light previous owner who did some of the original partition wall work years ago...studs are 16" ON CENTRE, not 16" apart....moron) After the drywall went up, the shelves were next. A pretty good off-the-cuff job if we do say so ourselves. We've added a small fluorescent light behind the stairs to provide a bit of illumination, but here's the finished space. (Note that the distortion is because of the camera lens and the short distance, not a lack of 'square' on my part.)
All that needs to happen now is getting the bi-fold installed and we can seal that all off.
As we crawled, weary, into bed last night we felt good about the work. Our home is really taking shape and we get to take all the credit. (cuz that's what its all about, really.) *grin*
Oh, yeah...and its about the power tools, too.
I'd like to note that with the photo uploads and other things going on it took ages to get this post done. Friggin' slow Blogger...
DW will laugh when she reads this...
It never fails. I run into some kind of roadblock and call for help. Then, while I'm waiting, I manage to figure out a solution. You'd think I would learn, but...its like lighting a smoke while waiting for the bus. No sooner is it lit than the bus shows.
Here's my "Rule of Three" meme:
Three names I go by:
1. (the real name)
2. (Surname diminutive)
3. Spiffy
Three screen names I have had:
1. (#2 above) the Argo Fan
2. Spaceman Spiff
3. Mossy Stone
Three physical things I like about myself:
1. eyes
2. forearms
3. legs
Three physical things I don’t like about myself:
1. waist
2. nose
3. chest
Three parts of my heritage:
1. Canadian
2. British
3. Scottish
Three things that scare me:
1. bumps in the night
2. uncertainty
3. confinement
Three of my everyday essentials:
1. a Book
2. Learning
3. Surfing
Three of my favorite musical artists:
1. Rush
2. Chicago
3. Rik Emmett
Three of my favorite songs:
1. Limelight - RUSH
2. Middle Ground - Rik Emmett
3. Something Happened on the Way To Heaven - Phil Collins
Three things I want in a relationship:
1. wickedly hot sex (check)
2. partnership/balance (check)
3. humour (check)
Three lies and truths in no particular order: (you figure out which ones are lies and which ones are the truth)
1. I love driving to work
2. I can make bread
3. I prefer tea to coffee
4. I can play the clarinet
5. I am blunt
6. I get things done on time
Three physical things about the opposite sex that appeals to me:
1. eyes
2. legs
3. smile
Three of my favorite hobbies:
1. reading
2. model building
3. woodworking/carpentry
Three things I want to do really badly now:
1. go home
2. get accepted to my MA program
3. get tea
Three careers I’ve considered:
1. Police Officer
2. Architect
3. Teacher
Three places I want to go on vacation:
1. Tuscany
2. Scotland
3. Halifax
Three kid’s names I like:
1. dunno
2. dunno, jr.
3. dunno III
Three things I want to do before I die:
1. Get my MA
2. Post back-to-back Shut-outs
3. Learn to fly
Three ways that I am stereotypically like a boy:
1. I'm handy with tools
2. I like cars
3. I'm lousy with paying bills
Three ways that I am stereotypically a girl:
1. I can do basic sewing
2. I can iron
3. I watch Gilmore Girls
Three celeb crushes:
1. Marina Sirtis
2. Trisha Yearwood (yeah, I know...I know...blame it on her guest spots on JAG)
3. Jacklyn Smith
Three people that I would like to see post this meme: (they won’t but here goes)
1. Digi
2. Larry
3. you
Blogthings didn't have any cheesy Memes to work with today, so I'm putting it out there for my loyal readership.
Send me a tag or a meme.
I'm definitely having one of those "I feel so freakin lazy I could just go back to bed" days. Again, it seems to be a case of "so much to do and no idea where to start." I am, of course, referring to work.
Since there's not much I can do about that today, I'll blog. (Shades of Kal weighing the options of blogging vs. Madden 2004)
Last night's hockey game was fugly from the opening face-off. I won'r reveal the final score, but collectively we didn't exactly cover ourselves with glory. We definitely mailed that one in.
This weekend looks to be a relatively busy one, with The Boy needing to be at Cadets for 0630 Saturday for a trip to participate in a Santa Claus parade, then I think The Girl has her choir practice and then my out-laws are apparently coming over later that day and my father-in-law is making his van available for the picking up of large items like more drywall and other things. This bodes well. Apparently he wants to make use of my table saw that day. Fair trade? I think the jury's out on that one. ;-) Sunday? Who knows.
Barring some kind of renovation disaster (yeah I know I just spit in the eyes of the gods...I'll deal) we should be able to make some good progress on drywall and wall framing. Will I get it all done? Probably not. There's some fairly complex boxing that needs to be done around the breaker box, to say nothing of running wiring for a switch (shit...gotta pick up an outlet box, too) and figuring out how to work around the ducting (shit...gotta check out how to cap some of the ducts we're taking out) and getting some of the plumbing sorted out for the new laundry space.
Home reno? I love it all. I really think the basement will look good once its all done and I can definitely say that the bulk of the work was done by the owners, rather than a contractor. (of course, if it looks like shit, I'll blame a contractor. *grin*)
No, I haven't forgotten about pictures. Time has been my enemy this week.
(Update: DW tells me that The Boy's feet are still rather sore so he's out for the parade this weekend and for extra drill. I offered to wake him at 5:30 anyway just to make sure he got the full, rich experience for the weekend and all that.....no takers, but I'll keep working at it.)
(** to eventually be accompanied by photos**)
My DW and I put up a wall between us this weekend.
Um...
Between us, my DW and I put up a wall.
Hmmm....nope.
How about...
My DW and I finished drywalling a partition wall this weekend. Good? Yah? Really??
Yeah, I know it's taken a while to get it closer to completion, but we're busy people. This weekend was a classic example. With Remembrance Day being a government holiday, I was off. After the parade that morning I raced back to meet the gas fitters who were coming in to set up the line for a new stove. Well, not really "new", but "new to us". The stove came courtesy of my brother-in-law who wanted to swap out his gas stove at his 'to-be-sold' house with the electric one we had. Of course, since stoves don't fit in Intrepids or Saturns, we needed to rent a truck to handle the dirty work.
So...truck was rented, picked up late that afternoon, our stove loaded, stoves swapped....
And then it was Saturday. The truck had to be back that afternoon and DW and I were kidless, so we were pretty much free to make use of the truck to get to our favourite place: Home Depot.
6 sheets of drywall and the accompanying sheet metal trim later...
We actually made some good progress and managed some workarounds to deal with a few little 'construction landmines' that cropped up (as they inevitably do.) DW demonstrated more of her home reno prowess with one particularly bright suggestion about dealing with one metal-stud-not-meeting drywall-correctly 'gotcha'. I need to be reminded occasionally that the simple solutions are often better than my complex ones.
Proof of the successful wall installation was discovered when DW passed through the open doorway and hit the as-yet-unwired light switch as she headed for the storage area. We both enjoyed a good chuckle over that one.
The partition is no longer naked, and we even added another drywall sheet to the partially finished outer wall of the basement. We have something like a plan for the gordian knot of ductwork and a realistic approach for my tonne of books and their eventual shelves.
Tonight I'll see if I can get the partition wall built for the stairs and get that drywalled in while DW is out.
I'm loving it....so far. Just don't make me wire anything. ;-)
It looks like the Resistance has finally toppled the evil Recondo empire.
You just gotta love when blogs come together...
"Romeo Romeo Mike, this is HQ...send SITREP, over."
"Romeo Romeo Mike, Roger. SITREP and aerial recon photos to follow, over."
"HQ, prepared to receive, over."
"Romeo Romeo Mike, SITREP as follows: Forces deployed as per Orders received at 1900 Zulu time."
"Reconaissance elements crossed the Line of Departure at H-Hour..."
"...followed by the mechanized infantry elements at H-plus-1, over."
"HQ, roger so far, over."
"Romeo Romeo Mike, SITREP continues..."
"Peacekeeping patrols from the UN were encountered by the Recon element at H-plus-5, and negotiations continued with the Canadian troops manning the patrol vehicle. The patrol was bought off with the latest "XXX Hot Chicks of Hockey", as well as "Curling Gurls Gone Wild" DVDs, over."
"HQ, roger. Will pass that along to the Intel folks at G-2. Good work, over."
"Romeo Romeo Mike, SITREP ends, over."
"HQ, roger. President Chloe and the UPC Forces are depending on you. May Mattel be with us all. HQ, out."
When you're out parading today, and I know you all will be, make sure you have everything that you need, and that your accoutrements are properly affixed to your blazer.
1. Your Royal Canadian Legion membership pin.
2. Your Poppy.
3, 4. Your Medals (Commemorative Medal for the 125th Anniversary of Canadian Confederation 'Canada 125', and your Canadian Forces Decoration 'CD', respectively.)
Add to that your well-loved black beret and regimental cap badge, crisp white shirt and regimental tie and you will be all set.
Remember to take a moment to remember the fallen at 11AM. Remember those among us now who give of their time doing things like this:
And like this:
They shall not grow old,
as we who are left grow old.
Age shall not weary them,
Nor the years condemn.
And at the going down of the sun,
and in the morning,
WE WILL REMEMBER THEM.
"For the Fallen" - Lawrence Binyon, 21 Sept 1914.
As much as I'd like to stay in denial, I can feel the oncoming winter chills in the air. I'm not quite at the stage where I need my heavy coat, but I'm thinking about looking for my gloves when I get home from work. I also note with some delight that the heaters are on in my bus.
~shiver~
An ugly loss for the team last night. I'll take the lion's share of the blame for that fiasco.
(On the chills note, I'll have to start bringing my hockey equipment in from the garage...it won't be warm enough for it to dry out. )
I can't believe how fast yesterday seemed to go. The whole day went by in something like a very productive blur. I felt that I got a lot done...which makes up for the days when I work 'n' work 'n' work and seem to get *nothing* done.
Speaking of work, I'm gonna fire up the laptop and keep plugging away on the way in. Might as well strike while the iron is hot....
(I love mobile blogging...)
I had an epiphany this morning.
11:30 hockey games really stink.
The mighty squad lost 3-2 in a rather uncoordinated effort last night. *sigh* These things happen.
I allowed myself the indulgence of a much later train so I could enjoy a relatively rush-free morning while my brain recovers from its low-wattage situation.
At some point I may be to old for this, but for the moment, I'll cope.
---------------------
On a wholly unrelated note, I an still feeling my literary frustrations. Like DW, I feels there are stories in me that are aching to get out. I know I'm "writing" here, but these are rather piecemeal efforts. Hell, I'd even like to author a book on training & educations stuff, but.....
I can start, but I admit I'm a lousy finisher. I can see the stories and thoughts in my head, but there's a brain-to-pen disconnect that stifles the whole process. I doubt that anything I'd come up with is even publishable (no, gutter-brains...its not dirty stuff. *sheesh*). I just don't know if anyone would even think its worth putting into print.
Ah well, if the stories finish, they get finished. Maybe I'll share them here.
Train arrives...subway calls.
Some will say its about time, and others will say it isn't deserved.
Any way you slice it, the arguments sum up Damon Allen's nomination as a finalist for the CFL' Most Outstanding Player award.
DA is a real study in contradiction, but I admit that it wasn't until the last few years that I've really paid attention to it.
For example, here's a guy who has passed for over 60,000 yards, but he's never passed for more than 5,000 in a single season. He's not a big guy by any means, yet he has also managed to rush for over 10,000. He has never (in 21 years) been the MOP, yet in the Grey Cup games he's played, he usually winds up as the Game MVP. I've seen him create forward yardage from nothing and elude tacklers on broken plays, and I've seen him make some brutal fumbles (the dying seconds of the '99 Western Final spring to mind.)
However, the man gets full marks for longevity and sheer perseverance. Very few people can play a professional sport for 21 seasons, and more importantly, be playing some of the best games of your life in that 21st season! Add to that his ability to rise above his critics and continue to play his game....the man is a marvel. Although Head Coach "Pinball" almost reverently describes him as a "freak of nature".
Congrats, Damon. I hope you get the recognition you deserve come awards night. We know that your Hall of Fame trip is all but assured.
A few non-connected thoughts and observations to start the day.
First, a welcome to Joe and his "Nobody Cares" blog. He seems to have an affinity for Canadians, Llamas and hockey porn (you'll just have to see what I mean).
Next, a slightly belated Happy Birthday to Larry. The monkey man was probably working his tail off and didn't have a lot of time to celebrate the event. DW and I sent him suitably amusing cards, so between our greetings, Dani's mermaid pic, and whatever The Steph comes up with, I'm sure he'll feel suitably 'feted'. (Sorry for the lack of 'accent circonflex'. I can't get the BB to handle more complex symbols.)
With a tip of the hat to the legendary Calvin & Hobbes parental surveys....A recent opinion poll conducted at the Shagwell/Stone residence regarding global stepfather rankings came back with a surprising result. Apparently I am now ranked first among step-dads in that vital '11 y/o boy-girl twins in East GTA' demographic. The results have a margin of error of 30-40%, 5 times out of 7. The poll results were given to me in the form of a touque, suitably embroidered with "#1 Stepdad". Who am I to argue with the math? (Pictures to follow. I'm touched beyond words. According to DW, this was entirely The Girl's idea. This is what happens when DW takes her to the mall.).
Its a gorgeously sunny day here. Apparently ltlme's prayers worked. 'Nuff said.
I might actually get to drift back into Drill Sergeant mode in the near future. The Boy is more involved with his Cadet group and I offered my assistance to the Officers there. Having taught a *lot* of basic training, I'm pretty sure I can square-bash with the best of them. It would definitely be theraputic....my parade boots and drill cane are around somewhere...
And so ends this mid-week missive. Enjoy!
(Edit: In response to overwhelming demand, picture proof of my Step-father ranking is now available.)
Wow...apparently I've received two nominations for the month of October. Best Comedic Post and Best Comment Trail.
Aw, shucks...
Its perfectly ghastly outside this morning. Nary a patch of blue to be seen. Kind of a featureless morning which renders everything in sight just a little less crisp and 2-dimensional.
I used to hate days like this in the army. We'd be cold, damp, and miserable. Nobody wanted to do anything. Motivation on Sunny days was never an issue. Anyone who has spent time in the big green machine can attest to that. Of course in my gig, the prospect of spending the day in an open jeep, crammed with supplies, equipment, weapons and 2 other bodies with the prospect of imminent downpour was just soul-draining.
"Aw geeze Sergeant-Major...why am I getting up?"
"Get your ass and your soldiers moving, Sergeant Stone....its your responsibility. "
Oh yeah.
Meanwhile, back at home...
"Aw, honey, can't we just stay in bed and snuggle?"
DW: "No, poohkie. You have to go to work. "
Work. Oh yeah.
There are far worse fates, of course. I mean, I could have no job, making the out-of-bed-getting somewhat problematic. Or, perhaps, I could be off to my job in the fullery. (Go look up "fuller" on a Wiki somewhere.) Having woken up in both of those situations, literally for the former and figuratively for the latter, I suppose I shouldn't complain. I'm doing what I love (even though I don't always love everything I do - which happens in every job.) Life just adds its own variables to every day.
Speaking of ghastly variables, hockey was a somewhat gruesome affair last night. Hallowe'en night is always tough because you never know how many players you'll have. Apparently our opposition wasn't burdened by this concern as they iced a full team to our 9 skaters. After my brief hiatus, I can't say I played particularly well, but as a team I wouldn't say any of us were candidates for Central Scouting. We probably played the best team in our league and even if we'd had all 14 of us, we would have had our hands full. Ah well, I know I played a good second period, and the guys said we were lucky it was only 5-3.
Ages ago, in a previous guise, I lamented the cancellation of a Masters' program I was really keen on. While DW and I were in Vancouver, I checked with the U again to see if the program was on. I actually think that it is. Gawd, I hope it really is. I really, really, really want into this program. Part of my challenge for a post-grad is that pesky undergrad that I'm missing. So finding just the right program is important. I don't want to do just any old Executive MBA, because it seems like everyone and his dog has one. (My apologies to all dogs who don't yet have their MBA). No, I need the right program. One completely applicable to my current work and one that will give me the education credentials to support career advances (not to be confused with sexual advances, which are something else entirely). For someone who was smart enough to be a good student but too unmotivated to make it happen, I'm actually pumped about school again. I really am. I know it will reall!
y be a tough 2 years if I get in, but...how could it not be worth it? The program itself is virtually (no pun intended) all distance education. The brain trust figures I'll need to dedicate 10-20 hrs per week to the effort while courses are on. There is a 3-week residency requirement where I'll have to go to the campus and I'll be working 6 days per week while I'm there. However, the prospect still excites me. I mean, I think of the doors that could open for my career. I think about how I can put some of this new knowledge to use at work. Wow. If I could dance in my seat here on the train, I would. Pretty sure I'd get some weird-ass looks, though. I could babble on about the whole school thing, but I'm sure that both of my loyal readers are already bored witless.
So, I wait for their response to my email. Think positive thoughts for ol' Stoney on that one.
On to more positive thinking.
It is positively grey outside. But I think I caught a glimmer of sun.
This bodes well.
...and here we are. Home at last.
All in all, it was a good week. But it's definitely been a lot of travel this year. Next up: Florida...
Interesting article about blog spam. I actually disagree with Jack's prediction because I think that Blogger has done a fantastic job of combatting blog spam. Far better than my ISP has done for my email, I should point out.
=================================
From The Globe and Mail
Jack Kapica
It had to happen: Spammers, always looking for a new way to clog your mental arteries, are now major players in blogging.
They find a blog, then start exploiting the ability for posting "comment spam," ads masquerading as comments to blog items.
The situation became unbearable after Google's BlogSpot, which offered people the ability to set up free blogs. It wasn't long before spammers discovered this: These guys are always looking for a big chance. And it revealed a terrible flaw in Google's thinking: How could such a large and supposedly venerable company not understand that their product would attract spammers?
What's really interesting is that yet another technological craze has been crippled by spammers. Their comment spam — it even has a name now, "splogging" — is rapidly pouring cold water on blogging enthusiasts.
And soon, blogging should become another marginal activity, like posting to Usenet groups, which no one seems to be interested in doing any more.
E-Mail Jack Kapica at jkapica@globeandmail.ca
Posted Oct. 26, 2005, at 12 p.m.
Ya know, Larry...your affection for my wife is, well...well known. And I know you're keen on hanging out with her. I'm okay with this. Honest. I mean, you're a cool guy, pretty funny. Kind of like a little brother I wish I had.
However...
We were looking out the hotel window (kick-ass view from the 32nd floor, btw) and we couldn't help but notice that you decided to tag along for the trip.
Dude: next time, just ask, k?? Kristin asked...and she's here. Causing nooooooo trouble whatsoever. (I almost managed to type that with a straight face, even.)
(Kristin: Deny, deny, deny...)
We had our suspicions when we first looked outside.
But our suspicions were confirmed when we looked outside later.
Larry: we're in 3206. Come on up for a beer. Just keep your hands to yourself.
(I will preface this post by saying that I am highly pissed at having to re-type the entry because WebTV didn't like one of my keystrokes.)
Greetings from Beautiful British Columbia!!
This blog update is being brought to you by the magic of WebTV because my laptop didn't want to make nice with the hotel's highspeed network. In spite of the fact that I can blog from my bed with a wireless keyboard, I don't feel transformed by WebTV in the slightest.
DW and I have had a surprisingly full couple of days. The flight was lengthy but uneventful (DW says that's the way they should be) and we arrived ON TIME. Y'know, you always hear about these things, but you're not sure if they're really true stories.
I got in touch with my Aunt H. who, through familial contacts, managed to obtain tickets to the football game the night we arrived. DW and I took a little time to unwind prior to meeting Aunt H., R and Big "A" at their pre-game hang out (Big A being a retired football player from that same team and one of my childhood heroes).
The game itself was a somewhat lopsided affair, (final score was 41-1 for the good guys) including a rather touching salute to Veterans at halftime that had DW and I nearly in tears. Amazing Grace with a mixd bras and pipe band gets us everytime.
The game didn't end until after 10 and, keep in mind, this was local time. For our travel weary bodies, it was 1 a.m. Poor DW was nodding off during the fourth quarter and if it wasn't for the cotton candy she hoovered down for the sugar rush, she wouldn't have made it. Steph, sometimes the cotton candy guy can be your friend. We ended up back at the pub with the family, including a couple of cousins that I hadn't seen since they were preteens. One is now practising law. Ouch.
By 11:30 local time, my wife looked like she could win the lead in "Night of the Living Dead", so we walked the mile or so back to the hotel (in the ever-present drizzle) and crashed. DW spent five minutes telling me how she couldn't fall asleep, and within another five minutes, I had to pry her Su Doku book and pencil from her hands as she was snoring her way through her first puzzle of the night.
I am deliciously pleased to state we slept in until 9:30 local time. That's right, boys and girls, that means we slept until 12:30 EST. For DW and I, sleeping in usually means getting up at 7:30 instead of 5:30. This sleep was beyond decadent. I wanted to call Reuters, but they weren't available to take the story.
We spent this morning the way we usually spend our vacations: walking and visiting museums. We visited the Vancouver Maritime Museum (which doesn't hold a candle to the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic in Halifax, I'm afraid) and the Vancouver Museum. We walked back to the hotel, changed and headed out to North Vancouver for dinner with the aforementioned rellies. A wonderful time was had by all (as was roast beef with yorkshire pudding, veggies and bumbleberry pie). *Burp*
Did I mention the pie?
Now, we're back in the hotel and while I iron my clothes for the conference tomorrow, DW is sitting topless on the bed, typing this for me.
It doesn't get much better than wireless tv blogging and topless wife typing (DW: I must really love him to let him say that).
Until later.
DW and I are enjoying our pre-clearance wait in the brand new Terminal 1 before our flight to Vancouver. A very nice space, as far as airport architecture goes. Definitely a bright and airy place to wait out the time before boarding.
Yours truly is on his way to an e-learning conference. The only reason I'm going is that I am actually giving a brief presentation on some of our successes from work. DW is joining me again and we're looking forward to another week away. We're also hoping to meet with Kristin while we're there. Her pregnancy permitting, she's gonna do a day trip and hang with us for a while.
I love Vancouver, but I hate the flight there. Nearly 5hrs gate to gate. That, dear readers, makes for a long-ass day when you factor in the time change, and the waits at both ends.
Boarding calls. More later. DW says hi, too. :)
Even though I wasn't specifically tagged (and, therefore, cannot tag anyone else) I thought this might be interesting, particularly with the great job Kal did with his.
Town Where I Was Born:
Town Where I Grew Up:
Where I live Now:
Nom du Blog:
My Real Name:
(Oh I had a lot of fun with this one...should mess a lot of people up)
My Two Grandmothers:
(don't ask how I got that last one)
My Favourite Food:
My Favourite Song:
Crap....I totally can't pick just one, but...
My Favourite Smell:
There ya go...
Parthenogenesis E. Engulfing - offering "Exceptional deals for medication on our site...."
Courtesy of my DW, I'm adding this meme (no, I'm not Posting The Cat.)
All you do is go to Google and type in your name and the word needs in quotes (e.g. "Mossy needs")
Like DW, I did this with my real name, but have substituted "Mossy" in here.
Mossy Needs a Chick. (Yep, came up #1 here as it did with DW. I already have one, tyvm)
Mossy Needs some Director Help
Mossy Needs Help (I know a lot of people who would agree with that)
Mossy Needs Oak Ridge Information (I do??)
Mossy Needs Amanda Buttram (*snicker* You said 'butt')
Mossy needs to present these views in a TV News report on BBC ONE (oooh...BBC? Way Cool! I say, Brain...whatever shall we do tonight? The same thing we do every night, Pinky old chap....)
Mossy needs to be reconciled. (I do? Who un-reconciled me?)
Mossy needs a Harvard scholarship (Whoa! DUDE! Gimme!)
Mossy needs more room (Damn straight...need more room for POWER TOOLS!)
Mossy needs two pieces of network delivery information. (um, okay...)
Mossy needs to get these made up. Probably will have to start from scratch but ... Mossy needs to get logbooks for the executive by next meeting ... (Who nominated me?)
Mossy needs to consume at least 1750 calories per day to maintain his ... 5) Mossy needs to lose 15 pounds in 90 days. Since walking still consumes 350 ... (okay, oKAY...I get the hint!)
Mossy needs to be distinctive. (Yeah, baby! But I thought I was already??)
I saw this article during my daily canon of news reads. Thought it was too funny not to share.
By IVOR TOSSELL
Friday, October 14, 2005 Posted at 9:11 AM EDT
From Friday's Globe and Mail
Poor cats. There's an Internet full of the things, but little do they know the joke's on them.
I got to mulling the strange popularity of cats in the ether when I discovered that a spate of bloggers had declared it "Blogacatmas," the festival of posting cats on weblogs. There was a flash of fur, cats everywhere, and then it was over. Another week, you sigh, another outbreak of nerd humour on the Internet. But these people are onto something.
There's a stereotype that goes like this: When somebody running a website has run out of useful things to say, they post a picture of their cat. When they don't feel like writing one thousand words on their blog, there's always the option of posting Fluffy and pretending that she's somehow of interest to anybody. When the boiler of thought is out of steam, out wheezes a kitten.
Perhaps the stereotype was undeserved, but it stuck. In a gently self-mocking way, putting up pictures of cats has become the quintessential blogging gesture. And the cat, for its part, became the patron saint of tired websites.
Which leads us to the cabal of young on-line writers in Canada who are pushing the phrase "posting the cat" to describe the moment when a website passes its prime.
Coined by arts writer and blogger J. Kelly Nestruck (of fence.blogspot.com), the phrase takes its cue from the saying that TV shows "jump the shark" and decline at the moment they display a certain desperation (the prime example being when Fonzie was made to water-ski over a shark on Happy Days; everything was downhill from there). So, too, with websites, Nestruck says.
"The truth is that most blogs are just personal vanity projects of little consequence, the Internet equivalent of Christmas newsletters," Nestruck says. "And nothing pulls the curtain back and reveals that dirty truth more than when a blogger posts a picture of his or her cat."
Indeed, "posting the cat" can refer to any kind of desperate mistake, even ones that don't involve cats at all. For instance, it can mean banning reader comments from your weblog, alienating your users. It can mean prompting the departure of a flamboyant character from a discussion forum, leaving the place limp.
Or posting the cat can mean just that. In the depths of the CBC lockout, the somnambulant cbc.ca website actually posted a kitten as its front-page photo. Management had posted the cat. There are a lot of ways to ruin a website, but you can't beat the real thing.
None of which reflects too well on the cat, either. Even the celebratory Blogacatmas's co-founder, Joey deVilla, says he doesn't even really like the things. "I'm really a dog person," deVilla says in an e-mail message. "I'm allergic to cats; I'm not too keen on their general temperament."
His celebration, it seems, was more a salute to the Internet's tradition of putting up silly pictures of cats than to the cats themselves. What success cats have enjoyed on-line (see the bizarro Infinite Cat Project at http://www.infinitecat.com/) is mostly thanks to their unrivalled knack for looking angry and aggressively confused.
Critics have argued -- and critics do argue about things such as cats on the Internet -- that there's a resonance between the rangy, self-reliant mentality of the cat, and the fiercely independent, stand-offish blogger or programmer. I don't buy it. The truth about cats and blogs is that it's an in-joke. On the Internet, cats are emptiness incarnate, and everyone knows it -- except the poor cat.
A quick word about "jumping the shark:" The widely used phrase actually originated on-line, at a website called http://www.jumptheshark.com/. It contains a full database of television shows, and thousands of user-submitted votes on precisely when each show took the leap and started getting bad. If that sounds grim, note that there are provisions for shows that "never jumped" (or have yet to peak), and shows that "jumped back." The shark metaphor is accommodating that way; I'm not sure about the logistics of un-posting a cat.
Bigotry and hockey and baseless allegations from knuckleheads sully an otherwise restful evening. Sanity's askings are too much for some but those thoughts never darken me. Darkened mornings and cooler temperatures herald the true end of another summer and the lingering lie of fall before winter arrives. Snowfalls and slush piles and salted driveways. Yech. Unwritten novels fill my mind, yearning to be written but fall short of reaching the pen. Where lies that disconnect? Maybe my fingers won't reach. Reach for the sky, and you can fly even with no legs and be a real dogsbody. Reach for the stars or you'll never leave the ground. Reach for the last beer and risk a serious thumping. Thumper really was an annoying little furball. Fur flies but only as part of the squirrell. Does anyone know what a squirrel, a sponge and a starfish have in common? Me either, but they all seem to be very happy together. Go figure. Weekday morning sleep-ins and spousal snuggles wipe away the stress and madness of the work week...no better perscription exists. Was Shakespeare really an existentialist? To be or not to be? If not to be, then what? What to ask, what to say, how to love and to be loved. Loving the one you're with might irk the one you love and is generally a poor move. Be more worthy. Images and words from a theatre of dreams keep pulling me under but I do love taking the time. ....and time and time again. Time never waits and time never ends.
(See what 90's prog rock does to me in the mornings? No Hypnerotomachia here, folks...no Rule of Four. I just want to see the flow of babble....I must be wanting a career in Politics)
It was definitely one of the longer days that The Stoney one had down at the quarry. Mr. Slate was at his best today, doing his best to drag down my morale. I regret that he succeeded.
I'll do my best to avoid getting dooced, but when one's boss is noting the downward effect of the staff meeting on all employees, you know it was a bad one.
However, there is light at the end of the tunnel (its my blog and I'll mix and massacre the metaphors if I wanna). I get to spend tomorrow with DW and we are absolutely kidless. I am working from home and DW hasn't been slated to work, and you have *no* idea how much we are looking forward to it. We haven't had a real weekday to ourselves in biff-knows-how-long and its long overdue. We both need some recharge time and some "us" time. It seems like we've been go-go-go for the last little while and life is just getting in the way.
Personally, I feel a little drained today. I feel like work has me running on autopilot and I can't find the off switch. I miss some of the relative sanity that came with some of my jobs, even t:ough I really love what I'm doing now...I guess the bullshit quotient is a little high.
Just for fun, my old friend, excema, is making a comeback. I've had this since I was a teen and my doctor figured I'd grow out of it at some point. Big E is usually a stress indicator although its spread is a lot less extensive than it used to be, and at least its confined to my hands. The Boy gets it on his legs and I know I'd be driven right fucken squirrely if I had it there. Weird thing: it always starts on the inside of my left ring finger, on the side facing my gesturing/driving digit. Don't ask me why, but that's always where it starts.
Okay, enough bodily affliction woes. There's a good day to look forward to tomorow. Keep smilin'!!
I'm renewing my love-hate relationship with kleenex. I really wish I could shake this head cold, but so far: no dice. I'll spare you the bulk of the gory details, but my nose has no interest in further contact with facial tissues, tyvm...in spite of the overwhelming influence of my sinuses.
DW is suffering in her own way at home. She's got a killer headache and she'll have to manage a bunch of kid chores because I'm not getting home as early as I thought. We're both definitely in need of some down time and "us" time.
No other big news...just needed to rant a bit.
Happiest of Birthdays, hun.
May you have many more, and may you look younger every year. ;-)
In the name of the saw blade, the the screwdriver and the holy drill bit...
There's no greater frustration than wanting to be out in my semi-organized garage on the middle day of a long weekend generating copious amounts of sawdust and being less-than-free to do so.
The day absolutely cries out for it. My spirit longs to hear the soothing whine and screech of wood as it shatters the silence of a complacent suburbia. Yea, though it is lovingly sawn and ripped apart by a sharp blade, attached to a high-powered motor, I remain faithful to you, my Gods and Goddesses, as I ignore the temptations of the heathens and the infidels who tempt me with other offerings if I would only close that damned garage door...
I faithfully make my novenas and hosannas to you...silently chanting to my favourite deities of the craft...Ryobi, Japanese goddess of the table saw, drill press and belt sander...Delta, the greek god of the band saw and compound mitre saw...DeWalt, pagan Frankish god of the hand router and drill/driver...not forgetting the lesser, faceless demi-gods of the circular saw with laser, 1/2" router and the 1/4" router and router table...
My soul needs to be sated with the benevolent work of creating something in your name from multi-layered, laminated cellulose. These offerings sit below the altar of my workbench...un-blessed...un-used...un-cut?? I am shamed at my sins.
Why am I denied this simplest of pleasures?
I mean, is the worship of this pantheon of sawdust such a crime? Am I in some kind of tortured hell? Will all of Dante's woodworking demons torment me mercilessly with visions of nefariously clever projects in progress, knowing that I am shackled to the wall of festive and mechanical reality? I beseech you, mighty gods and goddesses...I have studied relevant passages of scripture from ShopNotes 12:77, Canadian Home Workshop 3:12, and all the lessons in Bob Vila's letters to the Philistines at PBS. Your Prophets like Norm Abrams and the Apostles on This Old House have been particularly inspirational of late.
Oh, the humanity!
Dude! What the hell are you talking about, are you, like, in jail or something? Is there an emergency?
No! My fucking band saw is broken!!
One tiny little part is holding me back, Gods and Goddesses. I mean, I suppose I *could* run the saw without the liner on the upper wheel, but I'd rather not chance it. Would I offend thee by such apostacy? One stupid little piece of nylon/plastic that sits on the wheel split at some point, rendering the whole thing useless. Of course, I figured that a little piece of plastic would be cheap. Um, no. The price for that "tire"? $44 CDN. Jeebus... HERESY!! And, yea, even though I have prayed ferverently at your taberbnacle at the Home Depot, my prayers went unfulfilled. Only a divine intervention would cure what ailed me, their priests said.
Now, Gods and Goddesses, I do have some other tools I could use and I suppose I could maybe work some other wood I have lying around (stacked in a pleasing fashion) by building a prototype of the second generation hockey equipment stand that your unworthy, The Nature Boy, and I were talking about. I mean, he'd make that icon part of his own altar to worship and appreciate your glory! He even thinks such an icon would help to spread your word in that fertile land of the American Mid-West. He seems to think people already know something about wood down there. How could you deny me?
So, is it too much to ask that you send down some kind of thunderbolt/thundersplinter and let the Delta Service Center in Pickering be open today? Please? PLEASE??? I promise to build a shrine worthy of your worship if you grant me that favour. I really really really really really really really really really really really really wanted my band saw this weekend.
This must be some kind of test. May you find me worthy of this challenge.
For ever and ever,
Amen
...my agent, my publicist, my therapist, my pharmacist, my psychic...
Just kidding, folks.
I'm pleased to note that I have joined the ranks of the Brilliant Bloggers! My 'Where's Steph?/Steph Sightings' saga won for "Best Series".
Many thanks to all who voted, and to Larry for his Chicken/Cotton Candy/Baseball contributions, to Steph for being the catalyst and all-round good sport, and to DW for indulging my desire to blog.
Big kudos to MarriedMan and his Honourable Mention for "Les Miserablogs". It's WAY out there, but definitely funny.
Ya know, I used to be able to shake off colds & flu and other associated ailments and keep working, but as I get older I'm discovering that they take more and more out of me.
I'm actually in at the office today because I was supposed to have a teaching assignment at one of our other locations, however, an urgent training issue arose for another project, so I bounced myself out of the timeslot. Unfortunately, this messed up my schedule a bit. Even though I'm still feeling under the weather, I didn't really have a viable excuse to stay home, so, in I went. Of course, since this is the Friday before a long weekend (Thanksgiving, up here), the office is a veritable morgue.
In other news, my team managed a 5-2 come-from-behind win last night in an ungodly 11:30PM game. We were down 2-0 at the end of the first, 2-1 at the end of the second, then pounded home 4 goals in the 3rd. I'm definitely loving this new team...
I was going to audioblog last night, but I just never really got to it. I know you're all just 'breathlessly' waiting to hear what I sound like, too. (I even managed to type that entire sentence before I started laughing)
On the home front, Thanksgiving weekend approaches with all the resultant madness Chez Stone/Shagwell. DW is working today (7-12), part of Saturday and a big chunk of Sunday. Yours truly is on a course all day Saturday, followed by an evening hockey practice for The Boy. This leaves us precious little time to commit a serious neatness on the house. I'll do what I can for DW on Sunday, but with an ever-expanding guest list, we'll need to have the house in good shape. I'm trying to find a portable wormhole into which we can drop things to keep them out of the way, but with my knowledge of spatial physics and gravitational anomalies being somewhat on the sketchy side, I think I'm pretty much screwed on that count.
I'm about 2 weeks from my trip to Vancouver for my e-learning conference. DW and I are definitely looking forward to the break. I haven't been to Vancouver in 6 yrs and I'm really excited about getting back. I'm hoping that DW and I can do a little sightseeing while we're there. I'm also hoping to see one of my favourite aunts while we're there.
I think that's all for now.
At long last, the Mighty Steph has returned to the blogosphere. Much has been said and speculated about her lengthy and uncharacteristic absence, but I've just been made privy to the real reason why she was away from us for so long. I knew that she was a loyal citizen and would do absolutely anything her country asked, but I'm afraid that I didn't accurately gauge the depth of her patriotism.
Steph, you may be a Dirty Gypsy, but you're a hero to us all.
It never happens at a good time.
I'm getting sick.
If it was something like a stomach flu, I wouldn't really mind. However, this is forecasting all the symptoms of a very sore throat, congestion, and other skull-based ailments.
This bites.
Why?
Because I don't have to use my gut to teach, but I do need my throat and my sinuses. Teaching will, unfortunately, exacerbate the problem. Since I am the only guy handling the delivery for the process improvement stuff at work, I don't have a qualified backup and I get the make the joyous decision on whether or not I keep going. I have to say that this is one of the reasons why I don't miss teaching regularly. Talking all day left me open to all sorts of throat infections and, way back when, I usually had to teach through it unless I was near death. (I remember well one Exchange Server class where I was sufficiently ill that even the students asked my employer why I wasn't replaced.)
Murphy? You're a real bastard with a nasty sense of timing.
If I'm lucky, this will pass quickly and I'll be healthy enough for the Vancouver trip with DW.
Much to my surprise, I've been nominated for some peer recognition for my blog drivel.
I received nominations in 2 categories:
Digi was even kind enough to offer a little boost on his most recent post.
Even though I'm doing this for fun, it's nice to get the kudos...
...allow me to introduce Kal-el Coppola Cage, the latest issue for Nicholas Cage and his 20-something wife.
As DW says, if your kid is gonna be in therapy, it might as well be for a good reason.
*Thought: Motherdear, is that what you really named Kal?* Kal-el Prometheus Jones? :P
Due to overwhelming demand, I am offering a photo of the re-built hockey equipment stand that was done for The Boy. Pretty simple pine construction. We found the maple leaf-shaped coat racks at Home Despot and I routed a spot along the main pillar to have them inset. Everything painted in Maple Leafs colours using Krylon, to give it a more solid finish. Top is a fence post cap. Enjoy!
DW and I have definitely had what you could call a full day.
We took The Girl to her choir practice this morning, and I did the drop-off at Choir while DW did the shopping at Sam's Club. We manage to find a replacement Home Theatre system after the whole Best Buy fiasco. We couldn't find the Pioneer system we wanted in a box (no more display units for us!) so we settled for a nice Samsung 5 CD/DVD unit with a reflective surround system. Works pretty nicely, particularly in the confines of the living room.
So, we raced home from Sam's and I took The Boy to his hockey practice. I was wearing some of my gear (pads & gloves) while working with the team's goalie and I definitely got a good workout.
Once we got home, we got some dinner ready and tossed it in the slow cooker then DW and I went to see one of her friends who was having an open house as part of an art studio tour run by the big Town gallery. I have to say that I am not only in awe of the woman's house, I am totally in "we're not worthy!" mode when I see the stuff that she does. DW is equally envious. We then trekked off to the grocery store to get some other essentials for the upcoming Thanksgiving pig-out being hosted chez nous.
We wanted to try and get away to dtrini's end of year BBQ, but we just couldn't get it pulled together in time. Trying to get this place ready and do all the myriad things needed this weekend just blew the timetable out of the water.
On a personal sawdust note, I managed to get more work done on the new legs for The Boy's hockey stand (drilled and screwed together) and I'll hope to get another coat of paint put on it - if not tonight - tomorrow. I'm trying to make it as "Maple Leafs" as possible for him.
Pictures to follow.
Well, its off to savour the rest of my Beck's and see what other help DW needs with household clean/sterilize.
Hope everyone is enjoying their weekend. It's a balmy 26C here today.
Nobody was more surprised than me when we managed a 2-1 win tonight. It is a rare thing when I actually acknowledge any skill on my part, but I actually played a pretty solid game, but I had a lot of help from my team. Short-handed, they played some awesome defence in front of me.
Making the victory that much sweeter was that I was playing against an old co-worker from my current employer. He pulled a disappearing act that really screwed me and my boss over back in Nov. Needless to say that I was happy to not only get the win, but also to stone him on the one shot he bothered to take.
Came home, shared a bottle of Masi white with DW and I am enjoying a lovely buzz.
Maybe I'll have another Steph sighting tomorrow...
I was combing the tech pages and I saw a press release about the new Palm/Treo phone. Lo and behold when I saw the picture of the new phone...
I made a terrible discovery, and I was reluctant to tell Larry, but we had to tell people before they found out from someone else.
Steph is growing up Gotti!
(but you wouldn't know it from all the posting.)
After sauntering over to duff's site, I shamelessly followed her lead and generated a list of the Top 100 songs of my high school graduating year. Apparently if you choose to 'tag" along, you can bold the ones you like, underline your favorites, strike through the ones you loathe, and italicize the ones you can't remember. No opinion? Just leave it alone.
1. That's What Friends Are For, Dionne Warwick, Elton John, and Gladys Knight
2. Say You, Say Me, Lionel Richie
3. I Miss You, Klymaxx
4. On My Own , Patti Labelle and Michael McDonald
5. Broken Wings, Mr. Mister
6. How Will I Know, Whitney Houston
7. Party All The Time, Eddie Murphy
8. Burning Heart, Survivor
9. Kyrie, Mr. Mister
10. Addicted To Love, Robert Palmer
11. Greatest Love Of All, Whitney Houston
12. Secret Lovers, Atlantic Starr
13. Friends And Lovers, Carl Anderson and Gloria Loring
14. Glory Of Love, Peter Cetera
15. West End Girls, Pet Shop Boys
16. There'll Be Sad Songs, Billy Ocean
17. Alive And Kicking, Simple Minds
18. Never, Heart
19. Kiss, Prince and The Revolution
20. Higher Love, Steve Winwood
21. Stuck With You, Huey Lewis and The News
22. Holding Back The Years, Simply Red
23. Sledgehammer, Peter Gabriel
24. Sara, Starship
25. Human, Human League
26. I Can't Wait, Nu Shooz
27. Take My Breath Away, Berlin
28. Rock Me Amadeus, Falco
29. Papa Don't Preach, Madonna
30. You Give Love A Bad Name, Bon Jovi
31. When The Going Gets Tough, Billy Ocean
32. When I Think Of You, Janet Jackson
33. These Dreams, Heart
34. Don't Forget Me (When I'm Gone), Glass Tiger
35. Live To Tell, Madonna
36. Mad About You, Belinda Carlisle
37. Something About You, Level 42
38. Venus, Bananarama
39. Dancing On The Ceiling, Lionel Richie
40. Conga, Miami Sound Machine
41. True Colors, Cyndi Lauper
42. Danger Zone, Kenny Loggins
43. What Have You Done For Me Lately, Janet Jackson
44. No One Is To Blame, Howard Jones
45. Let's Go All The Way, Sly Fox
46. I Didn't Mean To Turn You On, Robert Palmer
47. Words Get In The Way, Miami Sound Machine
48. Manic Monday, Bangles
49. Walk Of Life, Dire Straits
50. Amanda, Boston
51. Two Of Hearts, Stacey Q
52. Crush On You, Jets
53. If You Leave, Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark
54. Invisible Touch, Genesis
55. The Sweetest Taboo, Sade
56. What You Need, INXS
57. Talk To Me, Stevie Nicks
58. Nasty, Janet Jackson
59. Take Me Home Tonight, Eddie Money
60. We Don't Have To Take Our Clothes Off, Jermaine Stewart (RIP)
61. All Cried Out, Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam With Full Force
62. Your Love, Outfield
63. I'm Your Man, Wham!
64. Perfect Way, Scritti Politti
65. Living In America, James Brown
66. R.O.C.K. In The U.S.A., John Cougar Mellencamp
67. Who's Johnny, El Debarge
68. Word Up, Cameo
69. Why Can't This Be Love, Van Halen
70. Silent Running, Mike and The Mechanics
71. Typical Male, Tina Turner
72. Small Town, John Cougar Mellencamp
73. Tarzan Boy, Baltimora
74. All I Need Is A Miracle, Mike and The Mechanics
75. Sweet Freedom, Michael McDonald
76. True Blue, Madonna
77. Rumors, Timex Social Club
78. Life In A Northern Town, Dream Academy
79. Bad Boy, Miami Sound Machine
80. Sleeping Bag, ZZ Top
81. Tonight She Comes, Cars
82. Love Touch, Rod Stewart
83. A Love Bizarre, Sheila E.
84. Throwing It All Away, Genesis
85. Baby Love, Regina
86. Election Day, Arcadia
87. Nikita, Elton John
88. Take Me Home, Phil Collins
89. Walk This Way, Run-D.M.C. and Aerosmith
90. Sweet Love, Anita Baker
91. Your Wildest Dreams, Moody Blues
92. Spies Like Us, Paul McCartney
93. Object Of My Desire, Starpoint
94. Dreamtime, Daryl Hall
95. Tender Love, Force M.D.'s
96. King For A Day, Thompson Twins
97. Love Will Conquer All, Lionel Richie
98. A Different Corner, George Michael
99. I'll Be Over You, Toto
100. Go Home, Stevie Wonder
I know I'm a little late with this one, but I did want to note the recent passing of Don Adams, better known as 'Maxwell Smart'. He is also known to the younger generation as the voice of Inspector Gadget from the original animated series.
His distinctive voice and the catch phrases from the Get Smart series are instantly recognizeable and really became part of the TV fabric.
Another loss, for sure.
M. Scott Peck died. Sadly, he will forever be mixed up with Robert Frost and his poem of the same name. (having made the name gaffe in Trivial Pursuit, I know how easy it was to make the mistake.)
I do wonder, however, if the people who write these self-help books look back and wonder if it was all worth it?
Kristin, I hope, will appreciate the poetic justice in this tale.
A few years ago I was involved in what can now be called an ill-advised relationship.
(How's that for an opener???)
I had been on the online dating/meeting scene since the end of my long-term relationship and I'd say that I could be fairly classified as "active". Depending on your perspective, I could also have been called "opportunistic", "slut-puppy", "player" and, DW's personal smile-maker, "man-whore".
The short version of all that is that I got lucky. A lot. And, yes, there were times when I wasn't necessarily "exclusive". I won't get into some kind of substantiation for my actions, because out of context it won't make sense. Was it the right thing to do? Probably not, but it does take two to tango, and I can safely say that I met my fair share of opportunists of the opposite sex so my actions were hardly an anomaly.
So now you have the background, I'll get back to that relationship I mentioned.
But, Mossy....why would you consider a relationship 'ill-advised'? I hear all of you ask.
Well...
(How's that for a nice trifecta?)
Anyway, she and I became quite an item, albeit a relatively secret one. We did manage to spend a fair amount of time together with some of her trips and in spite of the obvious danger signs, I really thought there was something there.
However, I successfully managed to sabotage the relationship (Yes, I got caught.)
That was a trigger for a really awful period in my life. I managed to lose my job of 4 yrs about 2 weeks after that whole sorry episode and public falling out and chat room lynching (and lemme tell ya, some of the rumours that flew were really, really juicy. Way better than the real thing.) I did my best not to lose her, but she eventually decided to walk, and I can't really say that I blame her, although there's a strangeness about a married woman dumping her lover of 8 months because of infidelity. Needless to say, we're not in touch anymore.
I'd heard a few tidbits about her afterwards, but I really wanted to forget about all that and just move on and learn from my errors in judgement.
Tonight, however, DW was on MSN with an old friend of hers from her own chatting days. This woman, oddly enough, was the one who brought her onto that same dating site. (Yes, DW knows the whole sordid tale and loves me anyway.) That same friend was asking me about coming to a "GT" (get-together) because Jewell (former blogger and also former member of the same site) was coming back from Australia for a visit. We were relatively non-committal but DW's friend mentioned, with a laugh, "Oh, Mossy doesn't have to worry about seeing ****, she won't be there."
The Readers' digest version of all this was that after the breakup with me, she wound up dumping her husband and moved to southwest Ontario, chasing some guy she'd met online. Probably from the same site, if I know her. When she left her husband and moved, this guy apparently wouldn't give her the time of day. She chased and chased for the better part of a year before giving up. When last heard from, she had apparently moved back to her family home in the prairies. There was some talk that she'd tried to go back to her ex, but our source seemed to think that didn't take.
I know its wrong and I'm probably really shallow and self-centred for feeling that way, but I got some perverse pleasure from the news that she's dealing with a little "nemesis"-type suffering, while I've managed to turn things around, personally and professionally. She could have chosen to ignore the pot-stirrers, and the rumour mongers and say that whatever happened was between us and was nobody else's business, but she chose not to, and I was tried and convicted in the kangaroo court of public opinion and she let other people make her relationship decisions for her. Again, I wouldn't expect anyone to condone my actions (I certainly don't), but she made her choice and I made mine. From what I heard afterwards, I would have wound up cast aside once she got away from her ex, so I can't really feel bad for her current fate.
Me? Shallow? Yeah, sometimes. Welcome to the dark underside of the Stone.
Much to my surprise, my team managed a 4-1 win last night. Granted, I shouldn't have been beaten low stick-side with seconds remaining in the 2nd, but we still fought the other team pretty hard. Granted, its not as strong a team as we'd prefer for a real challenge, but there was enough talent for us to practice on.
Unfortunately, it was a late night (10PM start time) and DW was unconscious when I got home. However, I treated myself to a sleep-in so we could actually wake up together this morning. Sometimes it makes all the difference.
I have 2 blog entries in draft (one of which includes this weekend's madness) and for some reason I have little-to-no drive to finish them at the moment. Am I lazy?
(Having said this, I'll probably wind up finishing them tonight or tomorrow or something.)
