Damon Who?

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.

Moss-pourri

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.)

Nominated again?

Wow...apparently I've received two nominations for the month of October. Best Comedic Post and Best Comment Trail.

Aw, shucks...

Grey shades and grey days

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.

We be back

...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...

Barbarians at the Grate - the death of blogging?

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.

Dude, Where's My PI?

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.

Left Coast Dispatch

(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.

Mobile Moss

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. :)

Self Tag: A Life in Google Photos

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...

Especially for Danikabur...

As promised, Dani, this one is just for you.

Spam Sender Name of the Week

Parthenogenesis E. Engulfing - offering "Exceptional deals for medication on our site...."

Yikes...

There.was.frost.on.my.car.this.morning.

*blink, blink*

Shameless Meme Theft

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??)

The Truth about Cats and Blogs

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.

Freewrite

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)

Hump Day Babblings

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'!!

~sniffle~

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.

Happy Birthday Danikabur!

Happiest of Birthdays, hun.

May you have many more, and may you look younger every year. ;-)

Woody Prayers and Pleadings

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

Audioblog, here we come!

There ya go, sports fans...the first one is done. I'm sure I'll be beseiged with requests to cease and desist. ;-)

I'd like to thank the Academy...

...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.

Friday's Feckless Meanderings: Tired and sick, not necessarily sick and tired

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.

Welcome back, Steph!

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.

Murphy is a real prick

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.

And the award goes to...

Much to my surprise, I've been nominated for some peer recognition for my blog drivel.

I received nominations in 2 categories:

• Best Comment Trail for "Good Grief"
• Best Series for my musings on Steph's whereabouts

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...

And from the "Stupid Names for Celebrity Offspring" Files...

...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

Mossy's Carpentry

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!

*Whew* What a day

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.

Hockey Night in Whitby

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...

Another Steph sighting!

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...

Steph Sighting!!

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!

I'm working...Honest!

(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

There ya go. Now you know how ancient I am.

RIP - Don Adams. "Would you Believe..."

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.

Literary Obit

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?

It's wrong, but I felt good about this news...

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...

1. She wasn't, um, quite through with the marriage she was in.
2. Oh...and did I mention that she lived about 800 miles away?
3. Oh yeah...um, she was also the chat administrator for the dating site I was on at the time.

(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.

Hockey Night in Ajax

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.

Ya know...

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.)

Steph Sighting

Poughkeepsie, NY (AP) - Reports continue to come in regarding the disappearance of The Steph. One recent sighting in upstate New York had The Steph driving a tractor trailer with a load of chickens apparently headed for processing. Our Intrepid field correspondent,
Recondo, told us that it could only be her, because the bug deflector on the truck had the words "Dirty Gypsy" painted across it. While he couldn't confirm it, he was certain that the driver's side door of the truck was painted with the legend "Steve Kline's Future ex-Wife", lending more credence to the sighting in question.

A driver hauling a load of premade cotton candy along Hwy 44 just outside Poughkeepsie also contacted our office with a sighting. He reported a similar vehicle, but also added that the driver was heard talking to someone, presumably the load of chickens. All he was able to make out was "yeah, babies...Momma's gonna get your little feathered asses processed", and "ooh, that Stevie Kline...he can bunt up my infield any ol' time", while cursing him and trying to run him off the road. He swore that in between her rantings to her fowl cargo, she could be heard yelling, "GO, GO, GO, MOVE THAT [expletive] COTTON CANDY, GO, GO, GO!!!!!!" While regaining control of his vehicle, the driver of the chicken truck made a sudden turn toward an off-ramp and disappeared from view.

Authorities continue to investigate.

Dirty Gypsy speculation #2

After finding herself in a drunken stupor following her birthday, The Steph is at her best Dirty Gypsy self when she spots a handsome young bus boy tidying up the bar. Smitten, she follows him around like a puppy, declaring to one and all, "S'up, my Bitches....isn't he the SHIT" Not wanting to argue with the sauced one, they all agreed that he was indeed the Shit. After 45 minutes of extolling his virtues (having cornered him with her boozy grin and practiced pressure point holds) she finally demanded that someone marry them immediately or suffer the consequences.

The lad's command of the English language was, charitably, lacking. Back home (no, not on Mepos, Balki) this kind of behaviour was often the precursor to the ritual involuntary vasectomy practiced by some members of his clan with women issues. After carefully weighing the odds, he realized that cooperation was probably his wisest course of action and began to nod like a bobblehead in a 4x4.

Steph's friends finally dragged the dishwashing guy out from the kitchen and explained the situation. Drawing on his own tenuous command of English, he performed a ceremony for the two of them in his native tongue. Little did Steph and her terrified intended know that he had just issued a curse upon them that promised festering armpit sores and terminal halitosis for the unwary couple.

When they were last seen, Steph was dragging her new ersatz hubby out the door with cries of "oh come on, honey, you're gonna just love Tulsa...I hear it's really the shit..."

(enjoy...)

Caution: Blunt Talk ahead

I haven't been this tired since the end of my Sergeant's qualifying course.

I must be getting older, because I'm sure I used to be able to deal with more than this.

How the fuck can I feel this exhausted after 2 days of teaching? I used to be able to do more. Am I out of practice? Or maybe its because I so completely loathe the classroom delivery process that its taking an equal toll.

As I remarked to dtrini when we went for Sushi at lunch, I'd happily stick some other poor bastard with this task. Unfortunately, I'm the best qualified poor bastard to actually do the delivery, therefore, I get the onerous task.

Maybe I shouldn't bitch. Maybe I should accept the fact that this is one of the "be careful what you wish for" moments in my professional life. I did want a certain measure of control over design & development and I did relish the thought at having a department to create from scratch. So, I am doing what I want to be doing. I am also gainfully employed by an organization that has, for the most part, given me carte blanche to do what needs to be done. How many people can honestly say the same?

I'm still tired, though.

And I'll still bitch about it.

Why? Cuz I can. ;-)

DW is equally wiped. She's putting in a lot of hours across both jobs and the Wondertwins have been more than a handful lately, so that really wears on her. Unfortunately it seems like we're just in "grin & bear it" mode until the dust settles.

Tired? Me?

Fuck, yeah.

I think its just the drain of being "on" when I'm in front of the class that's really taking its toll, more than anything else. There's also a lot of adminstrative shit that needs to happen for this particular training gig (scheduling staff around existing commitments, getting course materials printed and collated, etc., etc.) Granted, its not like I'm chewing tinfoil every day, but there's got to be a better way to get all this stuff organized...to say nothing of giving me an avenue to maintain my sanity.

Between work for both me and DW, plus an incredible stack of kid commitments, its a wonder we're both not in adjoining padded suites, wearing straight jackets, and writing "Kill Clouseau!" using a marker held between our toes. (I bet you're having some great mental imagery with that one; right, sports fans?)

Hmmm....in other news, I started my hockey Monday night. We've got a great team this season and its really nice to have some guys from my team last year in this years' pool. (the league pools all of the players who sign up and they get "drafted" onto one of the 10 teams.) We played well and still managed to lose 3-2. I have no major complaints with my level of play (which is something of a miracle for those who are used to my crying jags about' how much canal water I sucked' after each loss.) My other league starts Thursday and I have the usual "new kid" jitters about joining an existing team as the new guy. If nothing else, I'm hoping that this team is in a more balanced division than the one I played in over the summer. Cuz that was just icky. One of the refs remarked to me during one particularly memorable pasting, that he hadn't seen so much rubber since he was sending alimony checks to his ex. I wasn't amused.

*sigh*

I think I'm just in babble mode now. I'll have to come up with another "Where's Steph" tale and then I think I'll call it a night. If I'm lucky, I'll get a few precious moments with DW before we both fall into the arms of Morpheus.

a la prochaine...

Dirty Gypsy Speculation #1

Steph decided to follow her long-lost dream of fame & fortune in the music business. But being a shy, retiring type, she couldn't face the notoriety that came with pursuing her dream on home soil. So she packed her bags, grabbed her passport and she's now one of the final 16 contestants at the Grand Music Hall in Vilnius, home of Lithuanian Idol!

(Internet connections being what they are in the Baltics, she's having some trouble with her Idol blog. Stay tuned for updates...)

Dirty Gypsy speculations

Those of us who keep tabs on Larry's step-sib know that she's been AWOL for a while. Of course, there's probably a perfectly logical explanation for her absence, but I want to see what your nefariously creative and twisted minds can come up with.

(Having posted this, she'll probably re-surface this afternoon)

Is it, or isn't it?

Maybe its blog malaise or maybe I'm just really freakin' busy. Sadly, the energy to blog hasn't been there lately. I must apologize to the 3 or 4 of you who visit regularly.

Work has been chewing me up lately and in order to avoid getting dooced, I won't rant about it. DW and dtrini tend to bear the brunt of the rants when I have the time and energy to do even that. Tragic, really.

However, there is life beyond work and I have a few tidbits to share.

My hockey starts up again on Monday night (Ajax league). I'm going to be playing with 2 of the guys from my wednesday night summer team plus (I think) a guy I played with last winter. The familiar faced will help for sure. I was really happy to find myself a spot on a team in the Whitby league on Thursdays. Considering how I thought I might not even have a spot anywhere for the winter, this is a bonus to have 2 nights going. I'm a little anxious about the new Whitby team, but its in a lower division which should mean I'm a bit more competitive. (Until I can convince Larry to commute here for hockey, I'll have to play this all by ear.)

DW started her new job today so I'm quite excited to hera how it went. There's a certain creepy irony that she's doing a similar kind of job to one I used to do when I finished College. At least I might be able to offer some help when she has questions.

I tackled another stained glass project this week: a small dragon suncatcher. I'm not thrilled with how it turned out at all. I know I should just shut up and get over myself, but I reserve the right to be my harshest critic. Its not bad, if I sit back and look at it objectively, but I know there's room for improvement. Maybe on my next lamp. *g*

Finally, and this may be a re-run, I started some official hockey certifications with the Ontario Minor Hockey Association. I'm volunteering again this season for The Boy's team but I'm getting some of the paperwork to go along with it. I won't be a coach, but I'll get my trainer certification. If I knew TB was playing longer I'd consider the coaching cert, but I don't see that happening.

In unrelated happenings, I finally made my Blog Jesus debut.

That's the news that is the news, gang. Keep those comments coming!

Will I still be hungry in an hour?

I'm sure this isn't a unique thing, but whenever I go for Chinese food, I try to have a little fun with the fortune cookies.

I was introduced to this game when out for a big meet&greet buffet with other singles from this dating site I was on years ago. Once everyone got their fortune cookie, they were to read it aloud but add the words "in bed" afterwards. With a bunch of flirty and undersexed adults, this is an amusing experience.

DW and I took The Wondertwins out to the Buffet place for dinner last night. She and I usually do this game even if the kids are around, but we keep it to ourselves.

Sometimes, though, ya just get lucky. (Danikabur and Larry should get a chuckle out of this)

My fortune: "There is a prospect of a thrilling time ahead of you."

*grin*

How can we miss you when you won't go away?

Another example of athletic retirement stupidity.

If you're gonna retire at the top of your game, then stay away when you go away. He's been gone, what, like a month? Two? Now he's thinking "comeback"??

Someone please explain this to me...

Exodus

I am definitely taking an earlier train today. Much madness ensued at work over a potential deliverable oversight that was quickly resolved. However, that madness kept me away (yet again) from one of my big-ass deliverables (B.A.D.)

So I will (yet again) take my laptop home and do some work on this beast. Our in-house spin types approved my "brand" concept for the above B.A.D. but with a few caveats. I should be able to work around them, creative bastard that I am.

This weekend is football weekend. 8 of the 9 teams will be playing their Labour Day Classics (BC gets a bye week) and all 4 games look to be really good ones...as these rivalries usually are. DW and I will probably do something fun for the kiddies on that day since we can't get to the Toronto-Hamilton game.

I think I am slowly grasping the subtleties of SuDoku, at least, the beginner/easy ones. Its not a bad way to exercise my mind when I don't have anything to read on the daily commute.

Later, gang!

Truth in Advertising, New Orleans style

You gotta admit...when it comes to anti-looting, the guy has style

Good grief

Its September, already.

Wow....

Can you tell I'm avoiding work?

Your 80s Theme Song:

Your 80s Theme Song is Jessie's Girl by Rick Springfield

What's Your 80's Theme Song?

Kal's World: Essential office equipment

I definitely want one of these at my office. dtrini would agree.

(Please click the post title...)

I fought the snooze, and the snooze won

(With profound apologies to The Clash and Sonny Curtis)

Dreamin' of lyin in the hot sun
I fought the snooze and the snooze won (twice)
I needed good sleep 'cause I had none
I fought the snooze and the snooze won (twice)

I left my bed and it feels so bad
I think I missed the bus
I need the best sleep that I ever had
I fought the snooze and the snooze won (twice)

Tossin' and turnin' and a-Zzzzzzzzz.....
I fought the snooze and the snooze won (twice)
My girl said, "honey are you Zzzzzzzz......
I fought the snooze and the snooze won (twice)

I skipped my shower and my morning shave
I cannot find my pants
My train is comin' but I will be late
I fought the snooze and the snooze won (7 times)

Make it stop!!

I have one brief refrain of Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue running endlessly through my head.

Will someone please step up, be a pal, and decapitate me??

Thank you. You may now resume your regular activities.

I tagged myself

1. Name as it appears on birth certificate: Mossy Lime Stone
2. Nicknames: Spiff, Mossy, Skip, Hey You, Charlie Brown
3. Place of Birth: I assume it was a hospital bed
4. Favorite food: Italian
5. Ever been to Africa: I can only miss the rains (Thanks, Kal)
6. Love someone so much it hurts: More often than was good for me
7. Been in a car accident: Yes, as a passenger.
8. Croutons or bacon bits: Both - don't short-change my Caesar!
9. Favorite day of the week: Any day not involving actual work
10. Favorite restaurant: Rebel House in Toronto.
11. Favorite sport to watch: football, CFL-style, and hockey
12. Favorite drink for summer: Strongbow Cider
13. Favorite ice cream: Tiger Tail, Mint Chocolate.
14. Disney or Warner Bros. : WB. Gimme that Bugs Bunny/Roadrunner stuff!
15. Favorite fast food restaurant: Quizno's
16. What Colour is your bedroom carpet: beige
17. How many times did you fail your driver's test: 0
18. Before this one, from whom did you get your last e-mail: alleged work SME
19. Which store would you choose to max out your credit card: Home Depot or Lee Valley Tools
20. What do you do most often when you are bored: Pace. Fidget.
21. What time is Bedtime: Usually between 10 and 11 p.m.
24. Favorite TV shows: M*A*S*H, That 70s Show, Family Plots, Kink and Bliss, Law & Order, CSI
25. Last person/s you went to dinner with: with my bride in SF.
26. Ford or Chevy: Depends. Is someone else paying for it?
27. What are you listening to right now: The clack of keys and office chatter
28. What is your favorite color: Depends on what its for, really.
29. Lake, ocean or river: Um, for what purpose? I like them all
30. How many tattoos do you have? One
31. Have you ever run out of gas: Only as a passenger in a car (vis-a-vis gasoline.) Personal flatulence, however, is ongoing.

Commercial Break.

1996 Intrepid: $4685.00 (Used)
Transit pass: $60.70 per week
Gas price this morning: $1.035/litre
Relief at not being a SUV owner: Priceless.

This is what happens...

....when you forget your reading material at home. My work colleague, Big Guy, is on 3 days off, so instead of reading and generally letting my brain wander, I am left with few options. I can, a) blog via email, or b) listen to the silly dimwit legal assistants sitting by me on the train home. Needless to say, I'm blogging.

Am I really shallow by being glad I'm not in New Orleans right now? I couldn't imaging being told to evacuate and then being left with not much other than hope that my home would be there when I was allowed to return. Horrible stuff, that.

I've had some seriously disturbing dreams lately. I had them in San Fran, and I've had them since I returned. Wish I knew what kind of subconscious crack my brain has been on lately, because its some seriously nasty stuff. Has anyone ever wondered what monsters lurk under the surface??

What is it about Su Doku that I'm missing?

I really need sleep. Solid, uninterrupted sleep. Like, for about a week.

Is Heaven real, or just a myth to diminish our fear or dying?

(OMG I am so bored)

Has someone ever caught your eye for no reason whatsoever? Then, have you "always" seen that person, like, everywhere?

Ever looked at another blog and said, "Wow...I wish I could come up with stuff like that"?

Am I alone in my guilty pleasure of reading Star Trek novels? Does that make me lame?

I spend too much time mulling over shit like this

Secret du jour: A former trainer from the team I used to manage needs a reference. She's good at her job, but I don't know how to work into the reference that she can be a handful to manage. Leave that one with me.

How do I go about "bidding" to speak at next year's edition of the conference I attended without coming across as a self-serving suck-up?

I really don't want to get old.

Will I ever actually finish anything I start?

Why do people who consistently ride the same regularly-scheduled commuter train feel the need to make phone calls to the listener that they're "on the way home"? Are the people at the other end that incapable of using a timetable?

What happened to John Q. Public?

Are you bored yet?

I really want to go back to school. I'm happy when I'm learning stuff. Of course that goes back to my earlier question about "finishing" stuff.

Evolution was a very funny movie. Rent it.

Buddhists have it all figured out. Everything you "figure out" is one step closer to enlightenment. As a bonus, you get those totally kick-ass robes and the low-maintenance haircut.

All yours, gang. Have some fun with it

Monday sillies and other smatterings

Here are a few thoughts in no particular order.

• I'm back to the salt mines today. In some respects its almost like I never left.
• I'm putting the finishing touches on an e-learning deliverable which I will be quite happy to send out to the customer world after some roadblocks.
• My regular bus driver is back on the morning run, replacing the idiot who took over for her on a summer rotation. Granted, she babbles on a bit, but at least my life isn't at risk when I step aboard.
• In my haste to pack everything this morning, I managed to leave my book behind. Damnit. The Rule of Four is quite interesting...
• My Sunday hockey team had its final game yesterday. A whopping 4 people showed up to play. So we ended our season with an ignonomous forefeit. One of the 3 players (he actually bothered to dress) and I joined our would-be opposition for an hour of shinny. Kinda sums up the whole experience, in my mind.

DW is apparently feeling sick. This is not a good thing. Shadow the Wonder Kitty has been embracing her inner bitch and is growling at everyone in sight, earning her several banishments and one dunking in the tub.

*sigh*

Gotta love Mondays...

I are back!!

Yes indeed, fans and admirers and the lovely studio audience, I have returned.

It was a long, long, long week away.

Where were I? I were in San Francisco, attending a conference. DW tagged along for the trip to see some of the city.

The conference itself wasn't bad, although on two different levels I didn't get as much from it as I'd prefer. I didn't get as much of the real "depth" from some of the case studies presented in the different sessions. Nor did I get as much depth from the 3-day workshop that ended the week. Second, and most important, I didn't get nearly as many goodies from the vendors who were there over the first two days. Usually when I go to some big techie conference, the vendors are there with all sorts of swag, goodies and handouts. I always come home with some cool stuff. Not this time. The conference was only 275 attendees, so the vendor area wasn't as large as other conferences, and I must say that the quality of the goodies was sadly diminished.

However, I found some trinkets for the wondertwins and this keeps them happy.

Shadow the Wonder Kitty was extremely happy to see us when we returned late, late, late Saturday night. At one point after going to bed, I awoke to find her sleeping on the pillow around my head like some kind of living stole. Endearing. Creepy, but endearing.

We pulled off the fastest airport clearance departure in my long, interesting history flying Scare Canada. I have, on some flights, waited nearly an hour for my luggage to arrive at the carousel, just to give you an example. This time, not only did we push back early because we were ALL boarded well in advance, we had a good tailwind that had us at the gate nice and quick. We deplaned, and had a very minimal wait at Canada Customs and then our luggage arrived down the chute in quick succession. I think we actually made it out of the airport (eg. out to the car and parking paid and moving) in less than 45 minutes. Probably closer to 30. That, my friends, is speedy.

Today, however, is largely dedicated to work. I have some pressing deadlines for a training package that needs to get burned to CD no later than Tues/Wed and I have a hockey game at 3PM. Needless to say, I didn't appreciate the Project Mangler harassing me via email asking when she could have a copy. ("Hey, Lady....I'm on freakin course here! If you and your brilliant scribes had the materials to me on time, we wouldn't be asking me to work while I'm away, now would we???")

I did manage to go 4-0 in my football pool this week. Gotta love some of those long-predicted upset wins...)

On that note, I will part. Enjoy the day, all!

(I was surprised to see how few blogs had been updated since I left. Surely I'm not the catalyst for everyone else, am I???? =oP )

The limits of human cruelty?

I'm a real aviation buff, and every so often I wander over to airliners.net to cruise through the photo gallery. Planespotting is an interesting hobby, to say the least. (I did something similar in my Army days, but not to this extent)

With the crash in Greece, there's been lots of speculation about what went wrong. I think it will take a long time to sort out the facts from the hyperbole, and it renders the whole event even more tragic. The discussion forums on a.net had a link to some photos that were circulating, allegedly taken by the Greek Air Force. Check this out.

What's really scary is that these photos are good. I mean, really good. Unless you were savvy enough to recognize the subtle differences between the variants of the aircraft, you'd be inclined to take the photos as gospel (albeit macabre.) Fortunately, there are niche experts who were able to not only dismiss the photos as fake, but they culled their database to see some of the photos used to create the fakes.

I have to wonder: what would possess someone to do that? I'm all for practical joking in good clean fun, but this really is the limit. It's not funny, its cruel. Almost as bad as the stupid goat-fucker who said he got a text message from a cousin before the plane went down. He is alleged to have responded "I wanted to get my name in the paper." These photos are in a similar vein as the fakes that circulated after 9/11. (eg. the guy on the observation deck of the tower while a plane approaches in the background, or the devil face in the smoke, etc., etc.)

The sad thing is, even in the face of this evidence,people will believe it if they don't know any better. These photos will circulate and become part of the myth obscuring the truth. Because everything they read on the internet must be true, right?

The more I learn about the depths of depravity in humankind, the more I like my Cat.

I'm just relieved I'm not a fuckwit

There are just enough caveats in here to still let me have some fun.

I'm a generally unfuckwitted, liberal, not-too-generous, not-too-selfish, pathetically simple-minded, dribbling child!
What are you?
Brought to you by Rum and Monkey

Speak up, will ya? My Leppard is a little Def this morning

Nothing quite like a concert to give you a little boost, is there?

DW and I were among the screaming thousands at the Def Leppard concert last night and we had a complete blast.

This is a band I've been dying to see for ages but I never had the time or the money to be able to enjoy the live experience. However, thanks to my DW, we managed to get tickets for their Toronto show.

Wow...

That actually sums it up.

Wow.

It's kind of hard to explain the emotional rush I get from an event like that. I'm actually in sight of a band/group/act I admire (or in some cases, awe) and to be able to be there and soak it all in, well...it's just magical.

I'll let DW provide her commentary on our people-watching activities during the opening act, because I'm sure I can't do it justice. However, it's safe to say that there were a lot of fugly people out there wearing stuff that, well, just shouldn't be seen on some people, ya know?

Could'a, should'a

I should be working. I could be working.

But, I'm not.

I don't know if I feel guilty about this dilemma.

It's not like I didn't accomplish anything today. Honest! I had some good creative moments, and came up with some nice visual solutions to a couple of design problems. No small tasks, those.

I have my current pressing work deadlines (as some of the more faithful viewers will recall) but I find myself not wanting to do anything to meet them right at this moment.

It's such a paradox. I *know* it needs to get gone, but I *don't* want to do it. What does this make me? Lazy? Unmotivated?

Am I so inspired by the last-minute cram that I purposely try to sabotage myself? Interesting thought, that. I just came up with it. Maybe that's proof positive that I've spent too much time with psychotherapists. That's a blog for another time.

Tomorrow will be spent putting some "finishing" touches on the first cut of one of my deliverables. I have a review in the afternoon and I can get something like work done then.

A very inside football comment

Michael Bishop and my wardrobe have something in common: Year after year, neither gets better

(Thanks to Steve Simmons, of the Toronto Sun)

Wow...I'm gonna live to be 200!

Best medical news I've heard all week...

Used to happen in Utah ALL the time...

I got a slightly perverse kick out of this article. Law & Order had a great episode showing a man who had two separate families. Comments in italics are mine.

Man's three wives meet for first time at his sickbed

LONDON (AP) - Some people bring flowers, others bring balloons. But when Melvyn Reed's three wives showed up to visit him in hospital they brought an unexpected end to his years as a bigamist.

British police confirmed Thursday that after Melvyn Reed woke from his triple bypass heart operation earlier this year, his complicated marital affairs took a turn for a worse. All three of his spouses had turned up at the same time, despite his efforts to stagger their visits. (No wonder the poor bugger needed a bypass)

Upon realizing that something was amiss, the wives held a meeting in the parking lot and learned they were all married to the same man, the British news media reported. (This is typical British understatement....I can just imagine the substance of that meeting.)

The 59-year-old company director from Kettering, in central England, turned himself in on May 12. (probably for his own safety. Proverbs speak of the fury of a woman scorned. Imagine that scorn with an exponential factor of 3)

A spokeswoman for the Crown Prosecution Service said Reed pleaded guilty July 19 to two charges of bigamy at Wimbledon Magistrates' Court in south London, and was given a four-month suspended sentence and ordered to pay 70 pounds (about $150 Cdn) in costs, police said.

Reed, his three wives and Reed's lawyer, Laurence Grant, could not immediately be reached for comment. (He's probably in hiding because he was hoping for the relative safetly of Her Majesty's Prisons. They, on the other hand, are probably in hiding because they'd like to avoid being protrayed as stupid.)

The London Metropolitan Police said Reed married his first wife, Jean Grafton, in 1966, then left her without divorcing her. He went on to marry Denise Harrington in 1998, then married Lyndsey Hutchinson in 2003. (Of course, this is deceit of the highest order. I may have had my asshole moments in my time, but this guy takes the cake.

The British media have widely reported that Reed recently moved back in with his first wife. They say she is the mother of his three grown children. (Um, before or after the bypass?)

London's police said Harrington and Hutchinson had sought advice on getting their marriages annulled. But news reports say lawyers have advised the women that their marriages were never valid. (Their only recourse will be through the courts by means of a lawsuit. This just won't end well.)

Days like these...

I miss my drums sometimes. I'd like nothing better than being able to go home, find some suitable tunes, put the headphones on, and play myself into exhaustion.

I loved playing. I really did. I'd say I was capable, with random flashes of brilliance, but it was a lot of fun.

Of course, its no fun playing without a band. In Mossy's alternate universe, I am in a band that can play some fun stuff. Just covers, really. I'd be content to play in bars or things like that. I'd really love to put one together for an office bash.

But, drums cost money, and its a moot indulgence without a band to play in. At least air drums are free...

I bet he'll want to study for an advanced degree in "Communications"

This says it all...

(shamelessly ripped from BlogShares)

For the football curious...

I've been asked to post something that will explain the differences between Canadian football and American football.

Lazy sod that I am, I elected to link to someone else's careful research rather than do all that work myself.

http://www.13thman.com/cflvsnfl.html

I don't know if this helps with writers' block

...but it can't hurt, right?

Your Hawaiian Name is:

Mauli Konane

What's your Hawaiian Name?

The Nasal Chronicle

So here I am, minding my own business on the morning train. One of the "regulars" who usually gets on when I do is in the seat beside me.

Ever sat next to a loud breather? This guy is one. Got the loudest nasal exhale I've ever heard and its the only damn thing I can hear.

They wouldn't put me away for stifling him now, would they??

yadnoM cinaM

?sdrawkcab tsop eritne siht etirw ot erew I fi neppah dluow tahw rednow I

.did I sseug I, hO

(raedrehtoM ,noitcerroc eht rof sknahT)

I don't know how I feel about this

Geeze, ya make one casual reference to Charles Shultz on another blog, and then it all goes insane.

I can't believe I'm a secondary Character.


You are Rerun!


Which Peanuts Character are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

What, fuzzy dice didn't cut it?

http://www.bumpernuts.com/

Ya know, I saw something like this on a truck near home a while ago and I thought it was just a couple of tennis balls in a sock. Who knew it was a product?

This is proof that sidebar ads on sites do indeed generate traffic...

I dunno if I'd see dtrini or Larry putting these on their respective rides. Danikabur, on the other hand...well, she might want it to look like a trophy. ;-)

Withering Heights

DW and I had an interesting discussion, last night. (Yes, Larry, this is why your ears were burning. ). As with most of our talks, we're not quite sure how we got on the topic, but DW made a comment about how tall she thought Larry was. (Don't ask...I said I didn't know how we got here, so just enjoy the ride.).

I had a different impression of Larry and I asked DW why she thought what she did. She said, "I dunno, he just writes 'tall'...I dunno!?"

"Writes tall"?

On the face of it, that assessment is somewhat absurd. But when you think about it, its a bit of an interesting question of perception and the workings of the mind's eye. I mean, is it really possible to convey some of your tangibles to your writing? Does J.K. Rowling write taller than Stephen King? Or are they the same write height? Let's take a look at this little blog circle...Does anyone think that Duff should really be in the WNBA? Or maybe that Kal is a sawed-off runt? (No need to rush to the defence of your first-born, Motherdear...I was speaking rhetorically.).

What other perceptions of each other do we hold that would be shattered on first meet? What blanks have we been filling in? Do we see only what we want to see? What exactly do we think about when we comment at one another?

And then the ol' brain really got going.

Imagine all of us meeting at the same time. Who would be disappointed when meeting the in-person drive behind the blog? Who might find some secret lust? (Exluding those already made part of the public record *grin*). Would some kind of personal or perceptual prejudice change our interactions?

What if we discovered that it was all a lie? What if Larry was really a 14 y/o teenager with Magnum PI aspirations? What if Danikabur was really some very lonely, lonely guy with some kind of hidden agenda? Is it possible that Cricket titled her blog to describe the things she lacks? Does Callie write Lowk's blog as a way to preserve the memory of her deceased soulmate? Our perceptions of others would change, but are we self-aware enough to see these things within ourselves?

Truth is, apart from those folks who have met in person, none of us really know about one another beyond what we put up in the blog. We take it all on faith. I didn't articulate all of this to DW, but since we've both met people we initially encountered online I think its safe to say she knows where I'm coming from. (While I think of it, remind me to tell you about a couple of now-funny online date stories.)

Now, do I really think all of this about all of you? Of course not. But it sure makes you think, doesn't it?

Shamelessly Thieved Meme

If you're afraid of the answers you're not supposed to ask the question. However, since I'm feeling delightfully fatalistic this week, I toss this informational 'steak' into the den of hungry bloggers.

Comment with your responses...

1- Who are you?
2- How long have you known me?
3- Select my next car and explain why you picked it.
4- Describe me in one word.
5- What reminds you of me?
6- If you could give me anything what would it be?
7- Ever wanted to tell me something you couldn’t?
7a- Ever wanted to ask me something you couldn't?
8- Are you going to put this on your blog and see what i can say about you?
9- What do you love like a kid loves cake?
10- What makes you come back here?

Edit: Yes, I know...I altered a couple of the questions just to put my own unique stamp on the quiz.

Hockey and Bulls and Bears, oh my!

There are times when I let my inner grump get the better of me. That's probably a safe way to characterize the last several days in Mossy's little gravel pit.

Work is, regrettably, the trigger. However, in an effort to avoid getting "dooced", I'll refrain from the rants about some of the perceived matches seeking to light my fuse. Besides, dtrini and my long-suffering DW have heard them all already.

It's funny, though, how an off day can really snowball into having your own personal thundercloud. I admit that I'm moody. In fact, when I was dating, it was usually one of the things I would warn people about. Anyone who has worked with me can also attest to my moodiness. Yeah, I wear my heart on my sleeve...even when it occasionally sports a set of fangs.

I've been a bear and I dunno why my wife puts up with it, frankly.

I mean, in an ideal world, I could just stifle it all or become "Mr. Teflon" and let it all run off me, but that's just not who I am. Is it because I'm a Taurus? All the astrological thinking says its a trait, but it tends to be just who I am, bovine male or not. Sometimes I can deal with it, sometimes I can't. I wish I had more control but....I guess it's just a work in progress.

---

Now, on to other madness: Hockey.

The closest comparison is watching a car crash. You don't want to, but you just have to. That's what its like to watch the Maple Loafs do their "deer in the headlights" routine while the cream of the Free Agent crop get picked up by other teams. The Leafs made one, count 'em, ONE pickup, and are either leaving people in limbo (Hello, Tie Domi) or signing the mediocre (Hello, Aki Berg, Wade Belak, and Nik Antropov) or saying good bye to the gems (So Long, Joe Nieuwendyk, Gary Roberts, Ron Francis, and Brian Leetch...and probably Owen Nolan.)

All those free agents who wanted to come to Toronto? Gone-zo. The "brain trust" is so completely hamstrung by the insane contracts of the old system (Mats Sundin, Ed Belfour) that they have something like $10M left to spend and they need 9 players. Dunno about you, but I see a lot of guys shuttling back & forth from the Marlies this season just to keep the Loafs under the cap.

I don't get it. I just don't get it. Poor dtrini is almost inconsolable over this wheel spinning. I ran into Skibum this morning on the subway, on the way to his new gig. He's pissed because he got a Roberts jersey last year but didn't wear it while the lockout was on. Now he doesn't know when he'll be able to wear it at all.

I think I'll be cheering for the Flames this year.

At least we got to see him kick some Sith ass...

A venerated sage with vast power and knowledge, you gently guide forces around you while serving as a champion of the light.

Judge me by my size, do you? And well you should not - for my ally is the Force. And a powerful ally it is. Life greets it, makes it grow. Its energy surrounds us, and binds us. Luminescent beings are we, not this crude matter! You must feel the Force around you, everywhere.