I love the fact that the Pizza and Ice Cream convention is prohibiting entrance to those under 14. Now if they just put bicycles and video games in there, it would be the best thing ever.
Click to embiggen.
I've been in A Mood all morning.
Well, the rain falls down without my help, I'm afraid
And my lawn gets wet though I've withheld my consent
When this gray world crumbles like a cake
I'll be hangin' from the hope
That I'll never see that recipe again
Extruded by GDad at 1/26/2012 09:34:00 AM
I want to be a job creator. I will get a lease on some retail space and hire a bunch of surly young people. My shop will be called, "GET THE #=(( OUT OF MY STORE!" I will completely take advantage of the at-will provisions of my state's employment law, and I will provide no product or service that people want.
I will also be incredibly scrupulous about following the letter of any regulation so I keep the gubmint off my back.
This will only work if I am already independently wealthy, though. I suck at business plans.
Extruded by GDad at 1/25/2012 07:12:00 AM
Son, by virtue of being in the marching band, is also in the basketball pep band. They are to play at the half and end of the JV games and the beginning and end of the varsity games. Tonight, I sat up waiting for him to get home. At 9:30, which is when our household starts winding down for bed, I texted him to ask him when he'd be home. Then I waited.
Around 9:45 I got a text that the battery in the truck was dead and that he needed a jump. The school is two miles as the crow flies, but about six miles as the wolf walks, and those six miles involve traffic lights. When I got there, Son and Ashton were sitting in the car. Son had been planning to give Ashton a ride home. Ashton lives about a half mile from the school, and Ashton's mom showed up just as I did, but evidently, she "doesn't jump cars."
Now he's finally in bed, and I'm planning to copy my roadside assistance card tomorrow.
Extruded by GDad at 1/24/2012 11:00:00 PM
Last night, I dreamed that Son got a speeding ticket near where my grandmother lives. As some sort of driving improvement program, we needed to attend a city council meeting for the town where she lives. Then I ripped up his license so my insurance wouldn't go up.
That's a far cry from the nightmares of my childhood.
Extruded by GDad at 1/23/2012 09:00:00 PM
The other day, neighbor Rusty called me to ask for my help in getting his new Blu-Ray player attached to his home network, because he signed up for Netflix, and he wants to be able to stream to his teevee in addition to watching movies on his laptop. I went over, thinking it would be a quick job, as I always think, erroneously, when I go over to Rusty's to help with "computer" things.
I was the one that set up his wireless network, so it should have been pretty easy - connect the player to the wi-fi network with the right password, and then connect it to the Netflix account, right? Well, that would be true if the Blu-Ray player had the wi-fi hardware built in. It did not, but you could buy a USB adapter for only $49.99! I went ho0me and grabbed a USB wi-fi doodad from my own collection, but that didn't work. Of course.
Rusty let me off the hook for a while and went out to run errands, which included giving an earful to the sales drones at the place where he bought the device. I went home and advised him to call me when he got the right hardware.
Later that evening, he called to let me know that he had acquired the right thing. It was a pair of devices that connect wiredly to the router and to the Blu-Ray player and wirelessly between them. A few minutes later, we had the whole thing up and running.
Then Rusty asked me if everyone else was home. I indicated that they were, and he said that he needed to get something over to my house. I was a bit suspicious of the end result, but I accompanied him back to my house, with him carrying a mysterious package.
We got into the house, and Rusty unveiled an inflatable canoe that he found on some auction site for a few bucks. He wants us to use it in the new pond. I think we should go out looking for a narcoleptic Peruvian.
Extruded by GDad at 1/21/2012 10:02:00 AM
I had to go to the midsized regional bank office this morning to get GPop's passport out of the safe deposit box. He is going to Emory University this week to help out with their bookstore busy week during their first day of classes. He needed the passport, because he will be part of the group that is taking care of things for President Carter's book signing event at the store.
Son wants GPop to get some kind of magic emblem from Mr. Carter, because when Son was 5, George W. Bush came to Son's school for some "I love the kids" event and patted Son on the head. Son wants the antidote.
Extruded by GDad at 1/14/2012 08:00:00 PM
When I first started at Mega Corporation One, I worked with a very soft-spoken woman we'll call Guinevere. She was, and still is, a single mom living about 30 miles in out from Capital City in what most people would call the boonies, but which I call "a little bit out from where I live." We got shuffled around, and I sort of lost track of what she was doing for a while.
A few years back, she had a bad time of it where she got increasingly convinced that things were happening that nobody else could perceive, and she ended up taking some time off to deal with the issue. I'm pleased to report that she has resumed working at Mega Corporation One, albeit in a different role and in a department well removed from where she was before.
Last night, I dreamed that she called me on my cell phone. She chatted about the weather or whatever for a moment, then informed me that she was billing me for $50,000. She wouldn't say for what, but she was making it sound like some sort of legal threat. I distinctly remember writing the details on a yellow program from some concert.
I was pretty disturbed by this when I woke up.
Extruded by GDad at 1/12/2012 05:22:00 PM
Capital City has a pretty big convention center that is connected to Mega Corporation One via a series of covered walkways and tunnels. Sometimes, if I'm bored and lucky all at the same time, I'll choose to go to lunch there when an interesting convention is in town.
For the purposes of this entry, please use this guideline. "Uninteresting" is roughly equivalent to "full of people who could be representative of my current social or professional circles." Conversely, "interesting" is shorthand for "full of people who are at least one removed from my current professional or social circles."
Today, there was in interesting convention. It was the Huntin' and Fishin' Extravaganza, with such topics as How to Attract Visitors to your Web Site, How to Drive Actions on your Web Site, and How to Shoot a Buck at Seventy-Five Yards with a Brand X Crossbow. Needless to say, there was a good mix of people there.
I was over there with coworker Suzi. When one guy walked by with a laptop bag, a fringed leather jacket, and the middle-aged opera queen affect, I motioned with my eyes and muttered, "What? Gay IT Daniel Boone over there."
Suzi giggled, looked, and replied, "Let's call that 'role play.'"
Extruded by GDad at 1/10/2012 01:01:00 PM
All of those kids in elementary school, middle school, and high school that I thought were making ironic fun of the construct of the racist/sexist/whatever joke were actually sincere. That makes me a little sad.
Alternately, they're engaged in lifelong performance art, like Andy Kaufman.
Extruded by GDad at 1/07/2012 09:00:00 PM
At least a buzzer didn't go off, Dad's nose didn't light up red, although the little finger doohickey made his finger light up.
On December 21, stepmom's mother went in for a routine valve replacement surgery. The doctors said that it would take a couple of hours, and that she would be fine and ready to be home for Christmas. There was some kind of complication, and the doctors nicked her aorta with some device, which caused her to die on the operating table after about seven hours.
When Dad went in for his "routine surgery that would last a couple of hours" (not really a direct quote - more of a paraphrase), stepmom was pretty worried. Dad asked me to be there, since I have the most flexibility of all of my brothers, and even though this will piss off the one brother that reads this even as he agrees with it, the most empathic presentation as a person.
The doctors took him into the OR around 8:30. I was still en route. I got to the medical district in Medium City, but I arrived first at Children's Hospital. I got directions to the General Hospital and fumbled my way around in the psychiatric wing, the burn unit, and finally the surgery center. ("There's none of the enemy left, right? Right!")
I found Stepmom and sat by her for a while. She was bouncing back and forth betwixt her iPhone and her book. I asked how long they said it would take. Originally, it was "a couple of hours." Now it was "sometime around 3:00."
Lots of people-watching opportunities in a hospital waiting area.
My grandma called more than hourly. You normally don't think of an 85-year-old as "impatient." At one point, I said, "Grandma, I know you're worried. I PROMISE you that we will call you as soon as we hear one word about the situation." Fifty-five minutes later, I called her to tell her we hadn't heard anything yet. Then I reminded her that based on an earlier conversation, she might want to try Marmite. I swear I'm not an evil person.
The doctor, a short man with a very heavy Russian accent and a yarmulke, which I mention only because my dad is not the world's most ardent embracer of diversity, emerged from the OR at 5:30 to tell us that all was well, and that we could see him in "thirty to forty minutes, but you should make it closer to forty."
Extruded by GDad at 1/05/2012 09:30:00 PM
When Terra Nova started, I predicted several plot points. I'm sad to say that my predictions, even with a very loose interpretation of "correct," only have at best, a 25% accuracy rate. The one that comes closest is prediction 1a, where I said that the soldier will try to corrupt the girl, but the Power of Love will bring him back to the fold. Nothing so subtle happened. However, if you change the [SPOILER ALERT - highlight to read] genders of the corrupter and corruptee, you come close to that plot line. [END SPOILERS]
Extruded by GDad at 1/04/2012 06:00:00 AM
When I arrived in the parking garage today, I took the elevator to the walkway, as is my wont. In the elevator, there were several large smears of what appeared to be, to my non-CSI eyes, dried blood. When I arrived at the security desk, the guard was away, so I called the non-emergency number. Just as I was explaining who I was, the guard returned. I explained the situation to him, and his biggest concern was not that there might have been some horrible accident, but could I explain again which elevator it was.
Extruded by GDad at 1/03/2012 06:50:00 AM