Bike Blogging

This is just so cool - "New Design Could Transform 1st Bike Ride".

Leftovers

Item 1: Great Divide Titan IPA - great googly moogly is this ever delicious. It's like hops in a bottle - I might almost like it more than Summit.

Item 2: I was very confused after drinking an Item 1 because I realized there was a piece of paper in front of me that says, verbatim, "I hate the commies and cheese" - and it's in my handwriting. It took a little while to process, but I determined it's a reference to the game "War! Age of Imperialism" that I've been playing on the computer. I remember a game in which they sneakily undermined my authority - I must have been really irritated. Why I name my opponents "Commies" and "Cheese" - well, I'm just not very original sometimes - I'm in a hurry to play rather than a funk to be original with my naming standards (applies to my coding as well). I'm currently playing a round where the Democrats, Liberals, Republicans, and a few other parties are fighting it out versus Pissboy (my friend Dan's favorite moniker) and Scooter. The world is looking a very Democrat blue at the moment, which actually makes me feel not so bad about losing to the computer. The game - a computer rendition of a board game - is actually pretty fun, but it's absolutely a board game. I own several Eagle games, so I thought this would be a good game to own, particularly as it was on the sale rack at Target for $6.97 a copy and supported multi-player online capability. I actually had Pooteewheet look at another Target for an extra copy so I'd have four (4) to share with my gaming friends. At $28 for four copies, it's significantly cheaper than the actual board game.

Item 3: my mother was in a Vespa accident, yet talked to me on the phone without explaining that someone had literally run her over. Nice, Mom.

Item 4: my sister, LissyJo (and husband Ceri and niece Amelie) are back from Australia. They have more chutzpa than me to take an infant on a 16 hour plane trip...twice.

Item 5: my Dad is having troubles with his acid reflux - big problems - and seems kind of bummed. He's been on a diet for a long time. If the issue is that he's holding still and not getting better, but that it's not hurting him, and he feels like he lost all that weight and did all that dieting for no reason - well, he looks great and I'm sure he's 1000% healthier on all sorts of other fronts, if not the acid reflux front and he didn't get worse, so that's something. We here at Casa de McVay are happy he's o.k.

Item 6: Mean Mr. Mustard is sick. I hope he's feeling better for the weekend. Being sick during the work week is one thing, even if you have to come in for emergencies - losing your weekend is unacceptable.

Item 7: I took my road bike out for a spin. Yeah, it was only like 10 blocks, but I put on the shoes, trued the wheels and went. Damn, that makes me happy. Clipping into the frogs and just pounding it, even in jeans, ecstasy. The back wheel is still a little untrued - but functional. I think I'm going to just replace the rims with some wider ones - I have the money, so why not. Speaking of which, I took my mountain bike in after the whole Iron Man slipping chain into the ditch lose the keys ordeal and they put a new chain on it while informing me "your cassette could be bad too" - and of course it is, absolutely, I know it - it has probably 4000 miles on it. A new chain ($23 with labor) wasn't too bad, but new cassettes and rings is a bit of an expense. I'm about 24 hours from just deciding that I should take it up to my parents' cabin (flat - so it'll last for a decade without a new cassette) and get a new bike - a hybrid - easier on me, easier on pulling a Burley, and after I deduct the hypothetical cost of a cassette, probably $200 or so.

Item 8: A friend of mine actually got in touch with me today after about a decade - an old D&D buddy who was also a Scoutmaster and fellow Order of the Arrow member. I went looking for him once before with no luck, so it was very pleasant to have him find me (helps that I've had the same email addresses for approximately 10+ years). He might be interested to read this (if he's reading), but I actually have the candle that he had on his OA overnight. Not one of the candles from the box of whatever was sitting around, but the candle that he had in his campsite overnight. For those of you that were never in the OA - meaningless - for those of you that were, that's a pretty serious coup.

Item 9: Ming - I made this so long because you hate long posts. I very much doubt you got this far >:)

Tall Brad is an International Menace

Seems that there was a call about a lethal weapon at a middle school that turned out to be nothing more than "a 30-inch burrito filled with steak, guacamole, lettuce, salsa, and jalapenos, wrapped inside tin foil and a white T-shirt." Based on Brad's Chipotle habit, he must be the biggest international arms dealer the world has ever known.

On the other hand, 30 inches? 2.5 feet of burrito?! I hope that was a full day's worth of meals.

Probably a Reason I'm a Liberal

Not probably a reason I became one, just probably a reason that implies that I have no choice but to be one. I had read a couple of articles about how Rep. Gerald Allen of Alabama was trying to get all books by gay authors banned from schools and public libraries, but it absolutely never occurred to me until I read the caption on that post from Pandagon that I was currently reading a book by a gay author. I've been reading "The Picture of Dorian Gray" on and off for the last few weeks as my night table book - heck, I've even been reading it in the bathtub when Eryn will leave me alone long enough to soak and read. I'm very aware that Oscar Wilde was gay - it's obvious the story has a lot of gay characters - I mean, he went to prison and I believe the book was used as partial proof of his "crime" - but it just didn't ever occur to me to think, "Hey, some people have a problem with this book." It's a good book, with great writing. Period. But Allen says...

"It's not healthy for America, it doesn't fit what we stand for,"..."And they will do whatever it takes to reach their goal."

Please, take as much time to compose your own speeches/writing as the writers you're trying to ban. You should be saying, "It's not healthy for my twisted perception of America, it doesn't fit what particular, conservative, uptight, sexually repressed, hypocritical, Christians stand for which is banning and burning books and, if at all possible, certain people who write them, like some combination of The Handmaid's Tale and Farenheit 451, were I ever to read those books instead of just following blindly what my pastor tells me."

On a distinctly positive note, the defrocked Methodist minister, Irene (Beth) Stroud was refrocked today. As a lapsed Methodist who tends to stay away from organized Methodist religion because, 1.) they defrock gay minsters and 2.) they produce the likes of G.W. Bush, I'm very happy with their decison. Yes, they're trying to find technicalities to let her back while not upsetting their flock, but they're trying 8-1, which gives me hope that somewhere, deep in the U.M.C. there's not just a grain of sense, but an overwhelming tide of sense. While I'll never be satisified until everything anti-gay is off their tablets, this is at least a step in the right direction.

My Non-activation Receive Hurts

It's a tough day when I receive 549 build error tasks after two days of development without compiling, only one of which prevents compilation and states:

"you must specify at least one already-initialized correlation set for a non-activation receive that is on a non-selfcorrelating port"

And who says Microsoft error messages aren't specific enough?

Thought for the Day

Every weekday morning, when I drive to work, I drive down a hill and past a church with a mutable sign facing the road. I'm pretty sure the holy sign-tender feels he needs to one-up himself in terms of wittiness compared to the previous week each time he's faced with a blank slate. I share his latest example because I don't feel like keeping it locked inside where it can do damage.

"Prayer: Your best heart drive anti-virus protection."

Oh yeah. Punny for Christians and developers alike (not that you can't be both, of course - but considering, it begs the combination of whether a particular, Republican, left-for-a-Christian-family-centric-company, ex-co-worker is in charge of the sign).

Last week and the week before (and I paraphrase):

"God loves knee-mail."

Which was later modified to:

"God loves knee-mail: mail and fe-mail."

Which I can only imagine he heard after service as an aside by an amused parishoner who thought the addendum would be particularly funny.

Once there was a bit up that was up for only a day - I remember it being a little questionable - so maybe church sign-guy is a risky job and subject to a lot of criticism. Personally, I'm looking forward to the day when it reads, "Jesus, Bhudda and Mohammed walked into a bar..."

Why I Shouldn't be Allowed to Sit Around Bored

So, I know Mean Mr. Mustard is from California originally and, because of this, I have to base my conception of how he met his wife on my knowledge of California's culture and dating scene, both of which are entirely formed by two sources: Love Connection and Elimidate. This leads me to believe that at some point, either Mr. Mustard was sitting in front of Chuck Woolery, getting the old we'll be back in two and two, while up on the screens were his wife, his ex-wife, and Miss Yolo County 1974, each dissing him for trying to grab a kiss at the door after spilling wine all over at a tacky, faux-hip restaurant, or that at some point, he went out with all three of them and cut a rather sad groove while shirtless at a local dance bar while they competed for his approval by writhing around to see who could do the best facsimilie of a public lap dance, at which point I'm pretty sure his wallet chain, complete with keys, would have really gotten in the way. I don't even want to consider the hot tub part that always comes next.

Am I close, MMM?

Cookie Monster v. Elmo?

Or maybe Grover v. Elmo - hard to say, though Oscar has always struck me as a bit more of the Republican (but he does show a heart in "Elmo's Adventure in Grouchland"). That little ditty at the end of Elmo's World is bound to get a bit spookier... "Republicans...Republicans...Republicans hate gays..." or perhaps, "Silly shade...are you hiding sinners having consensual sex?" or even, "How does Mr. Noodle's Brother, Mr. Noodle, punish the wicked, treasonous liberals?" (it'd be a tough haul for Michael Jeter if he were still alive).

Check out the news by Elise at After School Snack or over at The Progress Report.

The Privatization of PBS
According to people within the Public Broadcasting Service, the supposedly politically independent PBS "is being forced to toe a more conservative line in its programming" by its oversight agency, the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, which is being stacked with right-wing appointees. Over the past few years, President Bush has attempted to flood the CPB board with partisan political operatives. The result, according to a senior FCC official, is that today CPB "is engaged in a systematic effort not just to sanitize the truth, but to impose a right-wing agenda on PBS. It's almost like a right-wing coup. It appears to be orchestrated."

Ironman 2005

Well, I went, I saw, I conquered, as long as “conquering” means simply finishing. It was definitely cold, I noticed the bank said 38 degrees at 8:00 a.m., about an hour after I’d started (here are some pictures, below – note the lack of kickstands on some bikes, Steve, I didn’t even take a picture of the hill where most people lay their bikes down – it has hundreds of bikes without kickstands), and there was some ice on the ground, but it wasn’t so cold I had to wear my wool socks, and it wasn’t so cold I had to wear my lobster mitts – however, the balaclava was almost a must for the first half. There was a teenager watching the ride from the cement, front step of her house around 7:30 a.m. though, and she was wearing shorts, a t-shirt and her dog, so maybe it wasn’t as cold as I thought (or maybe the dog was warmer than it looked). I didn’t really manage to loosen up until about the 8 mile mark, half way to the first rest stop, and it didn’t help that I took a tumble about mile 10, right before 4 miles of pretty much uphill (I forgot how hilly the Ironman is – when it isn’t being hilly, it’s busy being cold and windy). My chain and ring have been wearing for a while and I thought they were fine because I’ve been pulling a burley up and down hills in Eagan, but apparently I was wrong – I hit a hill, stood up to keep up the pace, and almost went over my handlebars as the chain rotated freely around the ring – ended up in the ditch with a small rip in my windbreaker-type pants. No blood, though, so that was good.



At the rest stop, I still felt pretty strong and had a cup of coffee that I can’t describe as anything other than morphine-like. I hadn’t had anything to eat yet, hadn’t had any caffeine yet and was cold, and when the coffee hit my stomach it was like dropping a shot of vodka that radiated from there into my limbs. I topped it off with a banana.

I should have known that my confidence in climbing all those hills was going to be challenged, because when I turned onto Highway 50, just after Farmington, with the wind blowing from my right, I suddenly had to shift way (I love my little ring) down and literally crawl along with the wind pushing me backwards. You sort of expect to see birds being blown backwards by the cornfield next to that road, it’s almost always that bad. But at least it wasn’t raining like last year. Here’s a picture of some flags on that portion of the route – these aren’t on the open field – they’re relatively sheltered by both a hill and a building.


When I got all done and back to my car, absolutely exhausted, I dug for my keys and found….nothing. I had my credit cards, camera in some wool socks, all my change, but no keys – they being presumably the only thing that hopped out of my bag when I crashed. So I stowed some things under the car and some things on the bike and hiked back out again – not to find the keys, mind you, but to call Pooteewheet to come and get me. She graciously agreed and, realizing I was famished, I grabbed a candy bar at the Quick Stop to eat. The sign said 2/85 cents. I took it to the front counter with the 70 cents I had left over after the phone call, and the woman rung it up, 75 cents. I said, “They’re two for 85 cents, isn’t 75 cents a little high for one?” The cashier assured me just one was indeed 75 cents, and if I wanted one for anything close to what I had on me, I needed another 15 cents. Shamed, I handed it back and walked out.

Jen found me at the parking lot, gave me keys, took me to lunch, and then took my brand new Ironman vest, sort of a five years on the Ironman gift to myself, away from me and went to Sin City. I’m still awake, so that’s something. Could be that my new coffee maker is helping out – but it’s full of decaf, so very unlikely (here it is, sitting next to my favorite cup, given to me by DannyJo back when we were at RPI).

Your Shakespeare Lesson for the Day

I remember the good old days when I actually had pretensions to do something other than programming. I came across this posting on the web this morning (I was digging around in Yahoo and Google based on some referrals to my blog), from back when I lived and breathed English literature and history. I was actually reading Lear for fun at the time. It makes me just a little sad to realize I didn't follow this path in life. Of course, if I'd have stuck with every path in life that I had temporarily been on, like Navy ROTC (they FUBARed it, I escaped), I'd have been either dropping smart bombs on Iraqis through one or two conflicts during my 6+ post-college years with them, or designing better materials for smart bombs so someone else could drop them. Not really my cup o' tea.

(I'm the responder, by the way, not the questioner).

From: Scott D. McVay
Date: Monday, 17 Mar 1997 20:46:43 -0500 (EST)
Subject: 8.0363 Re: Disguise and Queries
Comment: Re: SHK 8.0363 Re: Disguise and Queries

In a message dated 97-03-17 10:08:31 EST, Lisa Hopkins
writes:

<< b) I was reading _King Lear_ last night and was struck for the
first time by the phrase 'milk of Burgundy'. The Arden editor glosses
this as something like 'pasture - the effect for the cause', but does
anyone know of any other comments? >>

I have The Complete Signet Classic Shakespeare (1972), with a trans. of
King Lear by Russell Fraser (U of Michigan). His note on I.i.84 -- "The
vines of France and milk of Burgundy" is: "milk i.e., pastures."
Wouldn't Lear just be categorizing France and Burgundy by their
stereotypical agricultural products?

Scott D. McVay (TudorVII)

Seize Orlando Bloom's Sword

I happen to know that Mean Mr. Mustard's wife thinks Orlando Bloom is dreamy. I'm pretty sure that means he should Seize A Sword Signed by Orlando! If it's not phallic enough for Orlando to be auctioning off toy swords, there's special attention given to the fact that they've been subjected to his John Hancock.

You can click here to bid, Mr. Mustard. Make sure your bid is the highest of the two, because there's a definite qualitative difference between the swords, and only the high bid gets first pick:

On one sword, he writes: "Peace and Love in the Kingdom of Heaven. Orlando Bloom." Written on the second sword: "Peace in the Kingdom of Heaven."

Ming's Revenge

I noticed on Ming's Netflix list that he had watched Vanity Fair. There was a 100% probability I'd end up watching this movie as it encompasses many of my favorite things, like Reese Witherspoon, young(ish) British women in general, and British historical novels that take place prior to around 1900 (Shakespeare, Dickens, Austen). While I give Ming a hard time about watching chick flicks, I admit that I really enjoy most things Jane Austen-y (Vanity Fair is Thacker-y, but it's the same idea - Thackery just isn't as funny as Austen), I just get to cover my chick-flick watching in the guise of an interest in history, which has the added benefit of saving me from Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood and Yentl. All that aside, Ming is an inconsiderate friend for not warning me that I would be subjected to a helping of old lady butt. He knows my opinions on Kathy Bates' nudity in About Schmidt and the very idea of watching Calendar Girls. Just for that, I'm not going to tell him when there's a large snake involved in a movie if I've seen it first - he'll just have to figure out for himself that Anacondas: Secret of the Blood Orchid isn't a Sean Connery/Catherine Zeta Jones sequel (of course, he'll probably avoid it even if he thinks that as he doesn't approve of February-December romances).

Pulling the Plug

Today my coffee maker died. It's been a long, difficult, and painful death for both of us. Over the last year it's tried its best to deliver me the nourishment I need to face the workday, but with less and less success, even after Pooteewheet bombarded it with vinegar and limeaway to clean out the little deposits, rendering the house uninhabitable for short stretches. I knew when it started leaving small, white chips on top of the grounds that the end was very near. This morning, when I got up, it had been running for well over an hour and the pot was only half full and a puddle of condensation surrounded the base. There was a constant whisper of steam issuing from it, but no "drip, drip, drip". While it might currently be able to power an 1880s automobile, it's of no use for making java. Sadly, I shut it off and microwaved two cups of water to pour through the grounds so that I could flush out the mud in the pot. I silently toasted it this morning as Erik filled our mugs - good night, sweet prince, may the burr of grinding coffee beans sing thee to thy rest.

A Very Special Posting

I'd call this posting "For Ming" because it's such chick t.v. and he keeps trying to get me to watch The Notebook and Calendar Girls, but then again, I could call it "For Klund and Mean Mr. Mustard" because it's about their favorite actress - but really, no one deserves to have any piece of this associated with them in any way whatsoever.

Hallmark Hall of Fame will be presenting, on May 1, Riding the Bus With My Sister, starring Rosie O'Donnell and Andie McDowell - directed by Anjelica Huston. Ugh. Just, ugh. The mere idea makes me not want to watch t.v. in May just in case I catch a bit of it while channel surfing.

The picture with the guy in the jacket, by the way, is not a picture culled from the web. It's a picture Pooteewheet and I took in Chicago last fall when we were visiting my sister in law. I imagine, unlike me, he's anxiously awaiting the first of May (clickable).

Crossdressing

Yesterday was Eryn's two-year checkup with the Nurse Practitioner. At one point, she noted that Eryn should begin potty-training soon, and told Eryn, "You'll get to wear panties like Mom and Dad."

Is it that obvious?

You Know You Want to Go

In the City Pages event guide, this shows up immediately before an advertisement for buying a 64 oz. growler of beer to go at Town Hall brewery. My friend Kyle once consumed a lot of alcohol and then rode his bike in the covered pedistrian bridge at the University of Minnesota with very predictable results (from his perspective, the bridge should have been much longer than it actually was, then those doors might not have been in the way). It certainly looked x-tremely painful when he came back to the apartment.

Brain Injury Association of MN: X-Treme Safety Fest
Sat Apr 23
Featuring Rich Wieber's Bicycle Stunt Show; safety demos; helmet fittings. Free. 1:00 pm to 4:30 pm. For more information call 612.378.2742 or visit www.braininjurymn.org.
Mall of America Sam Goody Central (rotunda)365 North Garden, Bloomington; 952.883.8800

Various, Numerous Doodads

So, this first item is for Christy. I really wanted to go to this (right) because I know how much it would bug you. After all, she's British, she's Minnie Driver, she looks like Lisa, and you're disgusted with me for lusting after her (Minnie, not Lisa). But, it's $29, I'm married (and old), and I bothered to listen to her music on Amazon first, so there's no chance I'll be going because her music, well, it sort of sucks.

This second item is for Klund. I heard on X-Play that the Star Wars Legos Game actually allows head-to-head play with all the characters, so you can finally kill Jar Jar Binks in a Star Wars game. Gamespy gives it something like a 4.7 out of 5 - it includes scenes from episode 3, using the force to rearrange the legos into useful shapes, interesting lego character deaths, the ability to team up Yoda and Darth Maul, no annoying dialog (legos don't talk), and the possibility of playing totally useless characters like a single square block droid. Also, you're really annoying for talking about Buster Bars on your blog - I had an overwhelming urge to eat one tonite, to the extent I sent Jen in search of them - it's entirely traceable to you.

This is for no one in particular. I recently watched Killer Whales: Wolves of the Sea on National Geographic - if you're at all interested in nature documentaries, try to catch it - it's fascinating. They address how Orca pods are really extended families with particular hunting grounds and hunting skills suited to those grounds. You get to see the whales beat up penguins so they have slow targets to practice on; use particularly strong winds to ride the surf for extra speed to catch faster penguins; snatch seals from the shallows by almost beaching (the mothers actually push the calves ashore for practice, and position themselves to help the calves back out if they get stranded); brother whales who hunt together, one swimming past slowly so the seals think he's leaving the area while the other one sneaks up to catch them as they distractedly enter the water; seal pup basketball, followed by returning the seal pup to shore (they carry it there in their teeth and drop it off, unhurt) because they're full; and finally even Orca masturbation, as they return over and over, annually, to a cove with particularly, evenly-sized rocks that are good for rubbing. It kept me up for an hour past my bed time.

Also for no one in particular, if you get a chance to watch Elling (subtitles) or Grave of the Fireflies, do it - both are wonderful. The latter is great even if you don't like anime at all - it left me depressed for two days.

And finally, overheard at work on third floor, "He's a Republican? Are there like two that work in the whole building?" (followed by much laughter). Sadly, no, there are more, I work with some of them and couldn't even escape them when I temporarily moved between groups. There's one less since the one who used to bug me the most on first floor left for a more Christian-centric company. And one other, well, I replaced her when she left to sell makeup and have children. I'd like to think I'm either driving them out or converting them, but sadly I know it's not true. On a positive note, Pooteewheet and I recently taught Eryn to use the tape recorder in her room and the tape I gave her was the first episode of Air America, so whenever Al Franken shows up between bits of recording, Eryn says "Daddy!" That's just good liberal fun.

The Onion and Tom Delay

The most recent (paper) issue of The Onion included a small opinion box with the question:

"In recent weeks, House Majority Leader Tom DeLay has come under increasing fire from a number of important media and political figures. What do you think?"

To which the first person, Colleen Bowers, Systems Analyst, replies: "I heard Tom DeLay's blood was in the water and the sharks were circling him, but unfortunately, it turned out to be a metaphor."

A posting for Jen

Once again, The Revealer has informed me about something in my own neck of the woods that I wouldn't have noticed otherwise. They have a nice, short, metanews summary about WCCO's piece on the St. Paul Police Department taking Christian "God Squad" members with them along to violent crime scenes. The Revealer rightly takes WCCO to task for focusing more on sound bites and victim interviews than asking the right questions, like "why are they there in the first place?" Maybe non-denominational social workers are too expensive, after all, they're like $25,000 for three of them based on the going rate in the Strib classifieds (you probably get a discount with a dozen).

A posting for Erik

After reading a history of The Antichrist, one of the things I learned is that many people believe he will be not just the son of Satan come to visit the soon to be damned, but a perverted version of Christ - sort of like the caricature you can get at Valleyfair or The Rennaisance Festival. Maybe he'll look like Christ, but just a little off, sort of like a goofy brother, ala Chip and Dale. However, he'll still have diametrically opposed beliefs, summing up all the not-Christness it's possible to embody.

Erik. There is an anti-Erik. Senator Jeff Miller, TN (link goes to Jesus' General). Author of that state's Defense of Marriage Act, Republican, philanderer, hypocrite, all-around annoyance and, of course, from Tennessee. If I catch him working on one of our projects at work and see through his disguise, I'm going to be very worried.

A posting for Christy

I'm posting this merely to get Christy to take the test because I'm interested in the answers - I suspect the katty corner question will doom her to a seriously Dixie profile. Not that the link is off limits to the rest of you.

Your Linguistic Profile:

65% General American English

20% Yankee

10% Upper Midwestern

5% Dixie

0% Midwestern

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?

And Norwegianity points me to a second quiz - which I'm editing this post to include because these just aren't worthy of their own post.


Your Inner European is Irish!

Sprited and boisterous! You drink everyone under the table.

Who's Your Inner European?

Broadsnatching

Broadsnatching has to be the most poorly named new technology in quite a while (but then again, maybe it's the most aptly named).

Blue v. Red v...Orange? Whaaa!?

Eryn and I have been doing the Grand Tour of local playgrounds. We've moved from the ones down the block and at Blackhawk Park to those by the local school. I'm not sure what it is about blue and red that make them perfect playground colors - but just like at Blackhawk, there are blue and red playgrounds. And, just like at Blackhawk, the blue playground is a massive, exciting, kid-friendly, bi-located, contraption, and the red playground is this little, dirty thing, in this case tucked behind the ice rinks (which presumably hide Reagan-era MX missles). As you can see from the picture below, the red playground even sports an internment area nearby - Michelle Malkin would be pleased as everyone seemed to be comfortably constrained. Unfortunately for the red playground, it seems to have caught a case of the blues on one coast, though I'm sure that's only to give the illusion of friendliness to the Hispanics you can see toiling away as wage labor at the teeter totter. And what's with the orange playground?! I think that may be where the libertarians play. I noticed it was not kid-friendly at all. You pretty much had to make due with what you were given or else set up an alternative, commercially-viable private park nearby to compete.

(clickable)

The Interrupt Me Please Song

So, I don't know what it is about certain songs I play on my headphones at work, but they apparently have a Pied Piper of Hamline sort of tendency to attract everyone who has even the least of reasons to talk to me. It always seems to happen during a few of my favorite songs - so perhaps it's just a mental thing where I notice it more because it's during a song I like. Perhaps it's because I seem more cheerful and approachable when those songs are on my headphones. But just to prove to myself it isn't a coincidence, I once put it to a test and played an album I liked on loop and kept track of which songs got the most interruptions. Over the course of a day (yes, I listened to the same album for over eight hours - I'm that dedicated to science) I was interrupted on the song I liked best by a ratio of almost three to one over the next closest competitor. I'd listen to songs I don't like just to keep people away, but listening to the soundtrack from Moulin Rouge and XTC all day seems like a pretty big sacrifice for anyone.

What File Extension Are You?

Hmm...not what I would have guessed for me.
They have a special quiz for Mean Mr. Mustard - What Nigerian Spammer Are You?


Which File Extension are You?

I was at another blog today

and there was a fun quote - I think it tickles my dystopian bone (my master's thesis was on dystopias) because it makes the whole idea of big brother sort of sad and pathetic in such a short snippet (but you should still worry that the Ashcroftian inheritors are doing precisely what's implied while looking at your library list) - it's perfectly modifiable to use a friend's name if so desired - I pondered dropping in Mean Mr. Mustard instead of "your mother", but I've bothered him enough this week, particularly as I found a free dollar in front of him yesterday because I showed up at the same time as him for work (and spent it on coffee this morning), so he needs a little less of me.

Big Brother is Watching You
But he's not touching himself, like he does when he watches your mother

Cold Stone Lessons

Yesterday, when I was at Coldstone Creamery with Eryn, a kid and his mother came in to get some ice cream. She asked what he wanted, and he immediately stated that he wanted a particular kind of ice cream, and mixed into it he wanted a.) Kit Kat pieces, b.) Snicker pieces, c.) (Oreo) Cookie pieces, d.) fudge, e.) M&Ms, and fghi.) at least the next four things in a row in the glass jars full of goodies. His mother admonished "two only", to which he replied "dang it," and immediately began trying to start a bargain while simultaneously hemming and hawing, no doubt to punish her for her miserliness. I remember being a kid with big dreams of piles of candy, but I was always a realist. I would have never asked for all those things and honestly thought there was any chance of my parents caving (at least not that I remember, that was more my brother's style). I might have asked for a particular ice cream mix on the predefined list of favorites, thinking that it might slip by as one item instead of three or four or, as was the case with comic books and smaller treats, nickled and dimed my parents to death daily instead, but that would have been the limit of my adventurous spirit. I'm now forced to wonder how this difference between me and this child affected the type of adult I became. If I had been this type of child, would I now be (more) obnoxious and pushy and/or ruthless and wealthy? Would I be someone who was constantly cowed by their wife and/or mother? Would I be an aggressive, self-driven individual? Would I simply be a hoarder of chocolates? Would I have voted Republican, having developed a sick, subconscious correlation between my mother, liberals, taxes, candy and my lack of it?

When Eryn asked for M&Ms, I made sure she got them.

ad hoc rambling

Well, any sane person should be talking about the fact that conservatives are completely nuts with this whole judge thing and deserve a pile or scorn and a 14 million dollar bill from judges for home security systems, but they're making me very tired, so I'm going to talk about something else.

1.) Norwegianity, one of my favorite blogs/bloggers (just a great source of Minnesota politics) likes drinking Bells. If the existence of DrinkingLiberally weren't enough to prove to me that liberals are united in an appreciation of fine beer, this fact would be. For my part, I had a brewery tour on Thursday as a work outing - a congratulations on your beta release sort of thing. I'd been to the Summit brewery before, but was excited to be going this time because it was on a workday when the lines are supposed to be running. No such luck - most of it was sitting still, with the exception of the kegging line. But that was new, and so was a walk through the cooler, and so was having to hand over two of my drink tokens to some college kids because between the three Summit tokens I started with and two beers at Glockenspiel, I was pretty much all done.

2.) Hit the road for a while today - I actually spent about 6 hours today either walking, riding a slide, or pulling a Burley behind my bike. Eryn, at one point, ordered me, "Dad, put book in Burley", which pretty much meant any rest I had planned on was caput. I took her on a 12+ mile ride with a pit stop at Coldstone Creamery in the middle and I have to say that it's much more difficult to go up an Eagan hill with a big trailer behind your mountain bike. It threatened to rain the whole time and about 2 miles from home it finally did let loose. Eryn wouldn't let me put the cover on the Burley, however, so she was a little wet by the time we hit the house.


3.) Ox, a coworker, sent me this link last week about cyclists being mugged on the Cedar Lake Trail - At Least 4 Robbed On Bike Trail. I used to live on the west end of the trail when it ended in St. Louis Park (almost literally) and when he told me someone was getting mugged on trails, I immediately knew which trail and I knew where. Where the trail goes under I-394 is one of the most obvious places to mug someone you can imagine - it's a couple hundred feet long, dark, with concrete posts right near the trail and lots of places to drink and hide not much farther off, and only a short walk from downtown (the east end comes out by the Harbor Lights Homeless Shelter and Target Center). I used to ride that trail almost daily during the summer when I wasn't walking it, and I'd either a.) quit before the 394 overpass, b.) time it so I was going under it with other bikers, c.) save up some energy and whip through it so fast it would have been a challenge to catch me (and even then, only during the day, never if it was getting dark) or d.) go cross country a little near Cedar Lake and hook south to the more populated lakes. Since they added paved connectors to the lakes and around St. Louis Park to The Depot (so you can hook into the Southern and Northern LRTs) it's more of a family trail than it was, so double shame on the a-holes for scaring families away from the trails.

Michele Bachmann

We so do not need this crap in our state. And by "crap in our state" I mean Michele Bachmann and her antics, not gay marriage (as an ordained minister, I welcome gay marriage to Minnesota). If you need to hide in the bushes in Minnesota (and that's just so, so ironic) for any reason whatsoever, the issue obviously lies with you, not your perceived "opponents". For those of you who voted for her - you voted for a woman who hides behind bushes. I don't care if you think she would have been verbally attacked by gay-marriage proponents, it's just sad, particularly as it seems to embody her political style. Congratulations - at least Monty Python fans think she's funny.

This Post is by Mean Mr. Mustard - Friday

In my ongoing effort to provide some much-needed blogging for Mean Mr. Mustard, I present his Friday...

So, yesterday, Scooter was talking about criticism and how "some people" (he's always saying that - I think he means "me" in most cases) say that it's a rather low form of criticism or critique to refer to something by just comparing it to something else or, more specifically, two something elses (he was talking about Sin City). Well, I was thinking about it all day, and it gave me the weirdest dreams. I dreamt about what it would be like if you crossed Erik and Scooter, Erik and Tall Brad, Scooter and Tall Brad, Klund and Erik, Klund and Scooter and Klund and Tall Brad. Can you imagine that, Klund and Tall Brad? It'd be this guy who looked like Timothy McVeigh, but fourteen feet tall with an addicition to burritos and a fear of commitment to anything less than two women, but only after he'd had their children. And what if you crossed that with Scooter and Erik? We're talking 20+ feet of liberal, bearded, McVeigh-like, Wilco-listening, Summit-swilling, poker-obsessed, lesbian-intoxicated, caffeine-addicted, sheer annoyance. But at least I'd only have to buy one burrito for their birthday. And I know what you're thinking - no, it wasn't a wet dream, so just shut the hell up.

This Post is By Mean Mr. Mustard

Klund notes that Mean Mr. Mustard doesn't blog sufficiently for his tastes. In an effort to help, I am donating my blogging time today toward helping to fill his quota. This is his summary for yesterday (because I had to wait until he was done).

I was in a crabby mood today because I didn't bike to work - I thought I'd get to bike with Emma gone, but I've been having romantic family breakfasts instead. Scooter bought me some good coffee, however, and it was treat day (I had a difficult time telling the apple muffin from the cream cheese muffin, visually) - almost makes up for him going on a Summit brewery tour without me. Closed a lot of tracker issues. My wife isn't feeling well. I'm not feeling well either - allergies probably. It's a bad portent for getting Emma's room painted in time, before she comes home. Worked on some Worth entries for a while. Worried about whether the reorg will affect CDFFL. Gave Klund a hard time about an email he sent around about blocking a WNBA player, mostly because I liked to see "I'm a stud" as the subject line on emails from me. I wrote a PERL script to change Scooter's responses to "re: "I'm not a stud" as they hit my mailbox. Hilarious. Scooter compared Klund to a cross between me and Tall Brad. That's simply untrue - Klund is a cross between Timothy McVeigh and some guy I've seen over in the other tech area. Unbeknownst to me, Tall Brad went to Chipotle without me, the ass. When Emma comes home, I'll have to go back to making a decision about whether to park in the front lot or the back lot - I dread being a front lot person - that's where porn guy keeps his truck. I don't read my porn on the way to work, I shouldn't have to share his lot.

How to Grab Someone's Attention When Selling Them on a Movie

This snippet by Netflix in no way makes me want to watch this movie.

"Actor Ron Silver's directorial debut..."

Sometimes if you like to bike

you need to follow common sense. Yes, a reflective vest and a head and tail light make you visible, and yes you're legally allowed to ride on the road, but at 6:15 a.m. on Lexington in Eagan, with almost no non-traffickable area/shoulder, early in the season when no one is expecting a bicycle and there's still a lot of junk on the street, you should follow some common sense and get on the nice, wide Dakota county bike and walk trails, particularly if you're riding a mountain bike (and don't have to worry about bending a rim on the transitions).

Sunday - Bacheor Day #3

Finished watching Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind in the morning, thinking to myself, it's really early to be watching a movie and "why is it so bright?" Duh. One of the nice things about modern appliances is that many of them reset themselves, so it was obvious a little while later that I wasn't up at 6:30 but 7:30. I really liked Eternal Sunshine - very Philip K. Dick-ian (although more cheerful) - which was appropriate, because I spent most of the rest of the day sitting outside, on my driveway, reading science fiction stories and "Out" and one of them was actually the Philip K. Dick story that Screamers was based on (good story, bad movie).

I did take a break to go on a 12.2 mile bike ride - 4.5 mile to a chipotle burrito (took my book so I could read) and then 7.7 back - I took a detour down into my architect/lead's neighborhood because I had noticed the nice houses last time I was there and wanted to get a look at them (I don't need one, but I like to look). Did you know that it's possible, if you have enough money, to own a garage that you can park a extended trailer home in, lengthwise, along the back, with plenty of room for, oh, four more cars? With people like that living north of me, how did they ever get permission to point a runway in my direction?

In the end, I was actually outside long enough to get a slight bit of sunburn/windburn on my face.

Pooteewheet and Eryn came home around 7:00 p.m. Eryn got a new wood piano and encouraged me to sit around and "sing twinkle twinkle little star again, Dadddy" while she banged away, about 10 or 20 times. She was in a really good mood for someone who'd been cooped up in a car all the way from Chicago.

Satuday Night - Day #2

Sorry these are a little behind the times - I don't normally touch the computer much while my wife isn't around. I suppose that makes me sort of the opposite of most programmers and/or perverts, but such is the case.

Saturday was gaming day. I met Dan at my place and we drove up to Kyle's in Maple Grove to a.) have breakfast (the cheese in my omelet needed to be meltier, but we finally got to try the place Kyle has been telling us is good for over a year - usually it's either 1.) empty and closed or 2.) surrounded by so many police cars it's a bit unnerving ), b.) play board games and gamble a bit (modified the rules to Age of Mythology with good results - we made all the goals end of turn instead of end of game, Matthew won; played Settlers of Cataan; and played poker and in-between which had over a $40 pot at one point which is always bad news for everyone involved) and c.) drink (during which time I received a call from my mother on my cell phone who, after talking to me about water goblets and being disgusted I couldn't give her a number as to how many were at my house, like most guys can, told me to take a cab home - fortunately it was pretty early in the day and I was done drinking not much later so I had hours and hours to sober up).

I did indeed talk Kyle into sushi at Sushi Tango at the Uptown Mall and even Dan went (he's traditionally anti anything not meat and potatoes), although with predictable anti-sushi results. On the way there (we were in two cars as Maple Grove and Eagan aren't in good proximity) Dan dug through my glove compartment to clean up all my trash and snoop a bit. A couple of minutes later an object goes flying out the window and Kyle quickly backs his Mustang off to avoid being hit - a few other throws follow, but it's obviously nothing car-damaging. When we get to the parking lot I ask if he knows what Dan threw to which he responded, "well, it had a string, was it a tampon?", in response to which Dan and I laughed a lot. It's excellent to know that acting like a sixteen year old is still possible without much effort at all. Dan did make sure to leave behind one emergency tampon in the box.

The Sushi was great (Kyle found Dan some kabobs to actually get him to eat beyond a few bites). I hadn't had much fish egg before and the Wasabied fish eggs were sinus-blowing - literally, I thought I was going to have to do something about my nose. We mosied around Uptown for a while, to the book store and such, while Dan had a smoke outside - he ended up calling Pooteewheet in Chicago to tell her we'd ditched him and he needed my cell number. We pointed out that we had indeed ditched him and were all of about 50 yards away. I'm pretty sure it was the 25 oz. Japanese beer that pushed him into that extremely tired place.

Then home, to watch half of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

Friday Night Bachelorhood - Day #1

So I got comped a half day of free time by my director today - he actually told me to take the whole day off, but I had some "fun" things to do at work, so I logged some time creating a proof of concept and helped one of the guys on my primary project with some things he had on his plate. But half a day was more than enough to log some quality time with myself while Pooteewheet and Eryn are in Chicago. I...

Went to Sin City - I liked it, I actually liked it a lot, even thought it was a bit of the old hyper violent. It was a combination of Kill Bill and the comic book-type movie I expected Hellboy to be (but which it wasn't, at all, not even a little bit – although in a side note, Pooteewheet and I watched Storytelling during the week, which also stars Selma Blair, but a very naked Selma Blair – regardless, it sucked). Elijah Wood was downright creepy – definitely not Spiderman. The Bruce Willis/Jessica Alba portion of the movie that they seem to be pushing in all the promos was actually the least interesting bit – I assume it’s getting play because it’s Jessica Alba in a cowboy outfit – or most of a cowboy outfit (it’s sort of missing the buttocks area – you’ll see what I mean if you go to the movie instead of the trailers). I can see why some critics didn't like it, but I still did. There was also a trailer for the new Star Wars movie (Revenge of the Sith). Now I will admit what Mean Mr. Mustard already suspects - I am a die hard, woad in the wool, sci fi geek when it comes right down to it. I don’t generally publicize the fact to anyone but my wife, daughter and closest friends, but I'll watch anything sci fi- related with the hope that there's something, anything, redeeming about it - hence my argument with Ming about the sheer quantity of snake-related movies I've watched in my lifetime. That said, I really had absolutely no preconceptions about whether I'd be interested in the third Star Wars movie, after all, I thought the first two were incredibly boring. But after the trailer, I’m excited. Explosions. Space ships. Fights. Just big happenings overall. I found myself mesmerized by the trailer and excited that it looked so much better than the new Battlestar Galactica (which I don’t watch – for instance, here I am typing while it’s on in the other room, unwatched). Ming, I know I ditched you for my own selfish, I-got-time-off-and-no-family reasons today, but when Star Wars comes out, we should arrange a movie day.

After the movie, I had some quality time with Sandy (the dog, not my project lead), and then went on a 5.6 mile bike ride. It took me a while to get all geared up – inflate the tires, find my tools and spare and water bottle, long winter underwear, head band, gloves, sweats, shorts and t-shirt, only to discover it was too damn warm for all that stuff and much of it had to come immediately off of my body. Now 5.6 miles doesn’t seem like very far (especially given that my odometer says my last ride was 40.6 miles) – pretty much just to work for me – and I realize that and I knew when I started that I wasn’t going to be able to do much more than that, so I took it upon myself to inflict some brutal self-flagellation by actually biking the hills on Diffley. I’ve lived in Eagan two (2) years and never taken those hills. Hills leading to those hills – sure, but not those particular, seemingly-endless hills. And, if you count the incredibly steep hill that actually caused me to lift my front tire off the ground going up it (it was a little trail in the middle of the second hill that went behind a bunch of houses and ended in a dead end at the bottom of a steep hill), I rolled up five large hills on my ride. Yeah, most of it was in 1x3 or 1x1, but I climbed them, and without walking. There’s no hope I’ll do 100 at the Iron Man (third week of April), but at least I won’t bonk on a 30.

I went to dinner at Chang Mai Tai (Khap, Khun, Khrap! as they say – but don’t take Steve’s and Renee’s review to heart – the food is delicious, the prices are reasonable for anything in Uptown/Downtown and the wait staff is great, albeit eclectic, and if it’s important to you that your wait staff is attractive, I’m pretty sure even Pooteewheet is attracted to the Asian waitress that is always working whenever I’m there) in Uptown. The plan was actually to hit a movie at the Landmark – but the only thing I was interested in was Born Into Brothels, and it wasn’t until 9:30, so I just called it dinner. That also put sushi at Sushi Tango out of the picture, because after a meal of Muslim Thai Curry (two potatoes, two chicken breasts, a bowl of rice and sauce so spicey it has to make my stomach ache a little or it’s not worth it [a three on their scale] – oof), I couldn’t move immediately to anything else. But not to worry – sushi places are generally open until 1 a.m., so I should be able to talk someone into going tomorrow (or just go by myself). I also read 32 pages of Out while I was at dinner – it’s not the best book I’ve ever read, at least so far, but then I’m only 10% into it and it’s a translation from Japanese.

Then, back home to spend more quality time with the dog and watch The Rules of Attraction, courtesy of Netflix and James Van Der Beek. I didn’t like it. There was some good acting and some good production – but it was mostly pretentious (bunch of backwards film, split film, cut short scenes, etc.) and depressing (and oversexed, but then I guess that might be true-to-life for most college students). It centered on what basically amounted to bacchanalia at an “end of the world” party and three characters who f-ed up finding love leading up to that party. Primarily, it was disturbing because James Van Der Beek engages in 1.) imagined man love (he’s the target of a masturbatory fantasy), 2.) several sad attempts at suicide that culminate in him doing nothing more than wetting himself and 3.) extended masturbation to “Afternoon Delight”.

Of course everything culminated in a beer tasting and blog writing festival. Go figure.

Bed Bugs

The New Yorker has an interesting, short article about the bedbug explosion in New York City. While reading it this morning, I was reminded of when I was a teenager, living in my half-underground room at my parents' house on the edge of the woods. You see, every spring, I'd be inundated with bites - little red, hard bites that didn't go away for weeks and weeks. Eventually, I figured out that they were baby spider bites. Thoroughly freaked out, I took to cleaning the inside edges of my waterbed and even underneath the water mattress, the corners of the room, the corners on the floor in the closet - everywhere a spider egg sac might hide (what I couldn't do was clean inside the cinder blocks that made up the walls - I was pretty sure that was the source of my problem). The pinnacle of this little war came when one night when, after a meal of scrambled eggs and M&Ms (I was a 6'2" teenager who exercised 3-4 hours a day - I ate what was available), I took Raid foaming spray to all the nooks and crannies in my room and, rather than succumbing to common sense, immediately went to sleep in the same room. About 2:00 a.m. I woke up not with spider bites, but with a chemically induced fever and nausea so bad I filled up both sides of the kitchen sink with the above meal. After that attempt to kill me, we got along a little better - I only sprayed them when I wasn't there, they only bit me now and then.