garmana::blog

Xeno's paradox and success

I spend too much time thinking about success. Whether or not I'm successful, what it means to be successful, and whether I'll make it there someday and look at the view from the pinnacle. And I'm not talking strictly about financial success. I didn't grow up with money, I realize that the happiest moments of my life had no connection to money whatsoever, and so my definition of success doesn't begin with a large bank account.

To me, success has always been about being at the top of my game; whatever it happens to be. I work as a Web professional in my day job, and so I "need" to be at the top of the heap to consider myself successful. Writing is my passion, and so I "need" to be published to be successful at that. Paperback rights or an Oscar would be nice. :-) But would achieving those things really make me successful? I'm not so sure. I know of a lot of well-paid and bestselling authors that I think aren't worth their weight in imitation white gold.

The other issue is that the game is always changing. This is especially true on the Web. A new startup or viral idea is always pulling the legs out from underneath the reigning champion, and in the writing world the fickle taste of the masses moves among romance, pre-adolescent wizards, spy thrillers, and back again. Just when you think you have the race figured out, the track changes and the other cars get more horsepower.

Thinking about this reminded me of Xeno's paradox. Imagine that you are traveling from point A to point B. To get there of course, at some point you'll reach the halfway point. Let's call this your "new Point A." After you resume on your way you'll hit the midpoint again. As you continue your journey and repeat that process over and over again, and you never reach your destination. You're constantly reaching a milestone and discovering you're halfway there.

And so it goes with success today. You think you know what it means to reach the top of your field, but by the time you get there it's a whole new ballgame. Maybe your game doesn't even exist anymore. That realization forced me to change my definition of success. Not as a cop out, but as the recognition that it can never remain stagnant. Success in any industry or creative pursuit is different than it was 10, 100, or 1000 years ago. To truly find success, you'll need to find your passion and go at it full force. If you're lucky you'll be able to do it to support yourself, and if you're really lucky you'll find your fortune along the road. But you'll never reach the end, which is why you need to discover your passion first. Without that, you'll never muster the strength and courage to stay along the infinite journey.

So I wrote a screenplay

You may have noticed the Script Frenzy winner's logo in the right hand column of the site (unless you're using an RSS reader). What is that, you ask? Script Frenzy is a "contest" that challenged writers and wannabes to write a 20,000-word screenplay in the month of June. The basic rules are that you can formulate and outline the story beforehand, but you cannot start writing the script itself until the first of the month. After that you're left typing like a slobbering, rabid pit bull in your spare time over the next thirty days until it's done.

And type I did. I ended up at 20,362 words and 108 pages with two days to spare, which would roughly work out to a movie one hour and fifty minutes long uncut. It's entitled "Milo," and is basically "The Bourne Identity" for the tween crowd. The official tag line reads, "A young boy with no memory of who he is discovers that he has extraordinary abilities, only to find out that unlocking the secret may destroy his newly-adopted family unless he can find the courage to unravel it alone."

Profound, I know. ;-)

I'm not winning an Oscar with this one, but those of you that know me well know that I've always dreamed of being a published writer and this challenge came up just as I was toying around with finally doing it on my own anyway. I actually planned to write another screenplay I've had in the back of my head for ten or twelve years called "Closing In" but the plot line for "Milo" came to me in a flash a couple nights before June 1. I like the concept of "Closing In" better and thought that I'd learn my way through the screenplay writing process with a different idea.

I learned a lot during the writing process, and I came out on July 1st understanding the structure of a "proper" screenplay and story in general much better than before. So after twenty eight days of typing, three books on screenplays, four nights of falling asleep at the keyboard until waking to a cramp in my neck, and way too much Web surfing I ended up with a rough draft of my first real bit of writing. I've started to revise it but this is proving to be just as daunting a task as writing it, and without that month-long timer ticking in my head it's been difficult to complete.

I thought that mentioning it here would encourage me to get back to it, and to get it in a presentable state so I can gather some critiques. After taking my lumps with this one and learning some more about the screenwriting process, it's on to the next one.

May 2007 be the start of my writing career.

Old beginnings

I didn't know if his wife and sons would recognize me since I look quite a bit different than I did 14 years ago, but their faces lit with recognition and we shook hands.

"Thank you so much for coming, Mark. It means a lot to me, and it would mean a lot to John."

"You're welcome, and thank you. He meant a lot to me."

"It's so good to see you all grown up."

"It's good to see you, too, though I wish we were visiting in happier circumstances."

His wife, Sarah, squeezed my hands tighter and her gaze cast down towards her husband. I looked at him also and my eyes started to well up a little bit. He was older, grayer, and twenty pounds lighter than I remembered him, but still looked as kind as he ever had.

Aaron squirmed in Jessica's arms and I grabbed his hand to get him to smile. Sarah and I talked about Aaron and how he's growing, and the moment didn't seem quite so dismal. The line pushed forward a little bit, and now Sarah was talking to my sister behind us.

"Be sure to look at the front of that album," Sarah called back. "John stored his favorite photos in there."

The small card table next to me held a photo album, his stole and robe, and a hand-carved wooden name plate from his office. I flipped the album to the front page, and an eight-year old me smiled out from four of the five pictures. Two Polaroids with my sister and parents, another with my sister, John, and Sarah, and another with just me and my sister holding our Lhaso Apso, Rags near the front porch of our old house.

"That was our first memory of Illinois," Sarah said. "That first picture is at the airport where you and your parents picked us up when we stayed with you for the weekend."

I vaguely remembered that April weekend, touring small towns around the area and scoping out the local high school. That fall, they moved from Texas and he was the minister at my hometown church for the next nine years. In that time John had a profound effect on me, because he was one of the few adults that I felt "got me." He was in his mid 50s when I was in junior high, but he loved to talk with me about books, particularly science fiction and comics. He had a large collection of #1 issue comics going back to the 40's, and every summer we drove an hour to Decatur's used book store that dedicated a room to comics and pulp magazines. We would spend the morning rifling through old dusty boxes, break for lunch, and then head back to the store to resume our treasure hunting. He also introduced me to Jules Verne and C.S. Lewis' non-Narnia novels. He first inspired me to mature my reading list beyond The Hardy Boys and The Cat from Outer Space (though that book rocked the casba). My love of writing really grew then when my reading experiences broadened, and it also taught me to discover other writers of my own.

He also always told my parents and me that he thought I would grow up to be a minister. "Not that you have to," he'd always say, "but we'd be lucky to have you. No matter what you do, make sure it's inspiring to people."

I'm not sure I've found my avenue to fulfill that sentiment yet, but hopefully someday I will. I'm grateful that someone took the time to do that with me. Thank you, John.

All ready

A dad can nest, too, right?



Jessica and I have been getting the nursery ready for the new addition to our family: painting, getting the crib set up, buying some clothes, etc. I wanted to add a little something extra for him when he comes, something personal from Dad.

When I was a kid I was a huge fan of Calvin and Hobbes (still a fan, really). It was the first comic I read every day in the paper, and I was sad to see it end ten or so years ago. To me, the strip represented all of the fun, questions, and mischief of which childhood is supposed to be stuffed full. I used to draw pictures from the strip in a sketchbook in my room, and so I thought that my son may like having some of my favorite pictures in his room.

I borrowed an LCD projector so that I could sketch in pencil on the walls (versus repainting and repainting), and then followed that with the paint. I think it's turned out pretty well! As he grows up, I hope he likes the characters as much as I always did.

You can click here to see some pictures from the nursery, or click the thumbnail at the top of the post.

2922 days and counting

Eight years ago today I bought my Honda Prelude. It looks little more worn and a little less red than when I drove it home for the first time, but I'm still in love with it. It's been a reliable car for me minus one $1000 timing belt mishap (knock on wood), and it's really only in need of some new tires. Okay, and brakes. And shocks. But it's been paid off for four years and gotten me 103,000 miles, and so I'm not complaining.

Eight years ago today I was the textbook lesson in how not to buy a car. I had been having problem after problem with my old car. I had replaced the timing belt, tires, brakes, and exhaust system all in the last two months. It was ten years old with 170,000 miles and it was beyond worse for wear. The night before the alternator had conked out, and so I had the car towed to the local Honda dealership. Lesson in stupid car buying #1.

I was intending to get a 3-4 year old Accord, thinking that it would be reliable and affordable. Somehow the dealer got me behind the wheel of the brand new black Prelude SH in the showroom, and somewhere through the cloud of New Car Smell® I heard him tell me that he would open the double doors and let me drive the car off of the showroom floor for a test drive by myself. I was 22, single, and three months into a full-time salary. And of course the carcass of my last car was rotting behind the building, junkyard buzzards circling. He had me.

I drove the car out of rush hour traffic and into the country, opened the sunroof and windows, and cranked the stereo. I had ascended out of Jalopy Hell and landed in New Car Heaven. I floated back into the dealership parking lot and the smile plastered across my face let my salesman know that the 94 Accords just weren't doing it for me anymore. I feigned boredom but I was as transparent as the windshield. Lesson stupid car buying #2. We started negotiating price, and soon I was signing my name on the dotted line.

Fast forward eight years, and I still love the feeling I get sitting behind the wheel. I love the handling and the styling, and it fits me like a glove. It's just a car, but after all this time it's become my car. I'd love to hit 200,000 miles in it...

I admit, it's for the popcorn

There are some days that I don't want to do anything other than go watch a movie. I want to get my ticket and a huge bucket of popcorn, shuffle my way between the seats over the sticky floor, and wait for the lights to go down. I want to see previews, and a good movie. I don't want to rent a movie or watch a good show on TV; I just want to go to the theater and see a movie.

When I get that itch I can't concentrate on anything else. I can't read, I can't go work out, I can't do homework, and I can't mow the lawn. Today is one of those days.

Brad Barker's customer service is shit

We bought a "pre-owned certified" Accord from Brad Barker Honda about nine months ago, and the factory warranty still applies. The previous owner lived nearby, and the salesman showed us the service records to prove that the owner had always come to the dealer to have the car serviced. We have not taken the car anywhere else other than for oil changes and tire balancing.

The inside cover on the ceiling of the car started falling down and so we took the car in to have that repaired presuming it was under warranty. However, the cover plate to an electrical access box shows signs that it has been removed, and that box sits under the area of the roof that is falling down. Brad Barker claims that this violates the warranty, and so now we have a $250 bill for a simple glue job.

This is inexcusable. We bought the car with a full warranty, and they certified the car as being in new operating condition. Since we've never accessed that plate in any way, it had to have been done before we purchased the car. I realize this is an easy thing to overlook, but technically this should have been disclosed to us (and I question the "pre-owned certified" inspection if it does not cover all items that would void a warranty).

The burden of proof is on us of course, and there is no way to prove that we didn't open the access panel and void the warranty. It kills me, though, that Brad Barker certified and guaranteed the vehicle, and now won't stand by their product. I have bought both of my vehicles from them, and chose Honda because of its quality and reputation for customer service.

I'll likely get another Honda in the future, but not from Brad Barker.

Marmaduke Explained

This just struck me as hilarious today. ;-)

O'Reilly Labs Code Search

O'Reilly has made "O'Reilly Labs Code Search" available to the public.

This looks like it will be a great technical resource for programmers and Web developers, whether you are a fan of the O'Reilly books or not. This site is a search index of all of the coding examples in the O'Reilly library. I came across the link a few hours ago and have already used it twice.

To search on an example for a specific language, just search for "cat:whateverlanguage yourquestion." For example, if you want to search on examples for using a browser session in PHP, enter:

cat:php session

If you're interested, be sure to check out the other query formats for searches based on year published, author, ISBN, and chapter number.

You know you've been working on the Web awhile when...

... you're proofreading a research paper, and when you read through your scribblings to type the changes you find a mix of traditional edit marks and HTML. Okay, about 50% HTML.

My section headings have <b> scrawled next to them in red ink to indicate they should be bold, and I circled a handful of phrases and marked them with an <em> for italics (no <i> tags here, no Sir!).

Beer Cannon

Nothing says "fun" like blowing up fruit with beer cans.

The beginning of the end

I've been getting a lot of crap for never posting this summer... Truth be told I've gotten a little burned out again spending too much time on all things computer. Between work, school, outside projects, and rekindling the embers formerly known as my writing, my eyes were beginning to go a little buggy and my rear end a little tender from sitting in front of the monitor all day.

But that's enough of that. I feel myself catching my third wind and it's time to get back into the swing of online things.

Tomorrow wraps up the third week of the semester at Illinois State. I'm 20% done with my final semester! It's hard to believe; the days have often seemed long but the semesters short. I turned in my final paperwork (and check) today for graduation, and now that light at the end of the tunnel doesn't appear to be an oncoming train.

I'm still very glad that I went back to school to complete my Masters, but time management has been difficult. I would advise anyone that is interested in doing it to go for it, but I'll also throw in a few items of unrequested advice. Those who hate insessent nagging can skip to the final paragraph:

• Know what you're getting into if you're working full time. Don't go to school full time also if you can avoid it. You'll feel like you'll never get done taking one class at a time, but with two you'll still be going to class for six hours, commuting for two hours, and reading for four hours each week. On top of that you have homework, studying, and group projects. Be prepared to spend twenty hours a week for nine months of the year, and know that it will still take you three years (I was a bonehead and took one class for a few semesters, and so it's taken me four). Set aside a few hours each week to remind your loved ones what you look like.


• Don't start your Masters right out of undergrad, or even 1-2 years afterwards. Working for 3-5 years will do you a world of good in your graduate tenure. You'll be able to draw on experiences from work whether your topic of study is the same or not, and you will also have a larger context to which you can relate your course material. I would have gotten only a fraction of the benefit from classes like software quality assurance and project management had I taken them as a cocky, naive 22 year old with no real-world work experience. Instead I started as a cocky, slightly-less naive 26 year old and it made all the difference.


• Get to know your classmates. They're potential business contacts to be sure, but that's not what I'm getting at. Just like in undergrad, I've gotten to meet people from all walks of life; from an assembly line worker making a fresh start at 40 and Vietnamese farmer, to a retired chemist and Navy Seal. Besides being great people, their experiences bring varied dynamics to the table that are hard to match in a homogeneous corporation.


• Find a reliable block to park on within walking distance of the campus so that you can avoid buying a parking pass. I've saved almost $500 over the years by successfully avoiding campus parking, and came away with only one $5 parking ticket.

Aside from the friends I've made and the new things I've learned, the infectious energy on campus has been my favorite part. Even as a commuter (and an old guy), just walking across the campus and seeing people laughing, playing catch, and enjoying the hell out of every day is inspiring. I wouldn't pick going back to college over where I am now in life, but we should be so lucky to have the energy, enthusiasm, and hope that are bottled up in the students I walk among each day.

The best part of waking up is... Prince?

The story you are about to read is true. None of the names have been changed to protect the rightfully freaked out.

Friday last week and Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday this week I walked to the garage just like I do every weekday morning, squeaked in between my car and Jessica's to slide inside, and turned the key. And on each of those days, without my touching the stereo at all, Prince's "Raspberry Beret" rang out from the speakers. I checked the date on my phone to make sure I hadn't fallen into my own Groundhog Day.

With radio playlists today shorter than grocery lists I could understand if the song was something from the Billboard Top 20, but this is from 1985. The radio was also set to at least three different stations on those four days, ranging from mix to rap to "Bob FM."

This morning I went through my normal routine and found myself sitting behind the wheel. I was originally going to wait and see if my streak could go through the week before posting, but it was broken when I fired up the engine. No raspberry berets (the kind you find at a second hand store); it was the weather forecast. Hot and muggy today. Shocker. So I hit the number "5" button on my stereo, and what did I hear?

"Let's Go Crazy."

Be afraid. Be very afraid. The Purple Apocalypse may be upon us.

Math is broken

This is driving me bonkers today:

0.99999999 = 1.

Correction: .9 = 1.

Being grown up can be as fun as growing up

It's been a pretty stressful week at work: a big implementation, lots of schedule changes, good people moving on to bigger and better positions that we will miss, etc., etc. I'm also in the final stretch of my summer class -- done tomorrow! -- and yesterday walking to class I saw a massive swarm of high school students walking off of the quad towards the cafeteria. They were dressed in gym shorts and t-shirts, running around laughing, with musical instruments in tow.

Band camp.

What a great way to spend a week, I thought to myself. Going to stay in a college dorm with friends with nothing to worry about except the sun and an 8:00 a.m. start time. My mind wandered back to my research paper and staffing planning.

Three girls darted across the intersection diagonally. No worries; there wasn't a car in sight on a college campus in June at 5:00 p.m. on a Monday. Instantly, though, at least twenty people chimed out in unison, "Crosswalk! Crosswalk! Gotta take the crosswalk!"

"Laaaaaadies!" barked a disgruntled band director with a bursting armful of papers. "Remember, crosswalks are your friend."

Thank God I'm not in high school anymore.

A Father's Day announcement

It looks like I'll be celebrating Father's Day in quite a different way next year... Jessica and I are expecting in December!!!

I was at the computer lab at school and got a phone call from Jessica, and she seemed a little rattled. She definitely wasn't herself.

"Is everything okay?" I asked her.

"Yes, yes, everything's okay. Better than okay." She didn't sound upset, just bewildered. The line was silent for a few more breaths. "I got a pregnancy test today."

"Are we having a baby?!?" I asked. I logged off and started for the door.

"I think so," she said. "I really wanted to wait until you were home, but I was too excited. I had to take the test, and then I had to call you."

"I'm coming home," I said, starting to walk faster.

"No, you need to get your stuff done," she said, trying to be supportive.

I laughed a little. "No, I mean I'm outside on my way to the car."

She started laughing, and we talked the rest of my trip home about possible due dates, more ideas for names, and how we would tell our parents. Her mom is a nurse, and put two and two together shortly afterwards based on some questions Jessica asked her, and we waited to tell my parents on Mother's Day. The disturbance in the force around noon that day was my mom screaming. ;-)

We've heard the heartbeat now at two appointments: two weeks ago it was strong and beating at 185 beats per minute. In just a few weeks we'll have our first sonogram.

We had been trying for 9-10 months, and so this was (and is) exciting news. I wanted to wait until things were progressing healthily before saying anything publicly. Life will change soon for the better (and crazier, I'm sure), and it hit home when I came home that night in April when I came home from school and found this waiting for me:



I can't wait for December and forever.

Now I ain't sayin he's a...

I didn't believe Jessica at all when she told me this after work today: a California man was just ordered to stop digging for gold when authorities found that he had an unsupported sixty-foot hole in his front yard. His top-of-the-line metal detector alerted him that he had gold in his yard, and when he found gold dust three feet in the ground he hired two more men and just kept digging.

When police officers came on the scene, they found two men using ropes and buckets to hoist dirt sixty feet up and out of the hole. If anything, I admire the guy for his persistence. As a kid I started digging for treasure, lava, and China dozens of times but never got more than a few feet.

On the other hand, I hope Rob Corddry picks this up soon. ;-)

Make your own Pollock

Just start moving your mouse in the browser window, and click to change color.

Enjoy. >>

The little companion

Okay, this is one for the "What the @*#&?!?" file...

Jessica has been out of town this weekend and so I got together with my parents for dinner on Friday. We ended up going to see "A Prairie Home Companion*." Even more disturbing than that, though, was the man in the row behind us.

We got up and everyone in the theaters started milling around searching for their popcorn bags and purses when the credits began rolling, and I noticed that my mom had a horried look on her face.

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

"That man behind us was zipping himself up, and he had a not-so-innocent look on his face."

"He probaby just noticed that his fly was down when the lights started coming back on." Give him the benefit of the doubt, I figured. I always had an embarrassed look on my face when that happened. Don't paint the guy into a local Paul Reuben Incident.

Just then he kind of half-sat back down again in his seat, proceeded to lift up his shirt a little, and rebuckled his belt. Then he grabbed a wad of napkins from the seat next to him (sans refreshments) and started towards the door.

Damn.


* BTW, do not pay to see this movie unless you're a fan of the real-life show. It was a warm, respectful homage to the actual radio program and played smartly on the themes of change and the ends of things, but that does not translate into an entertaining movie. Woody Harrelson and John C. Reily do steal the show, though, as two cowboys signing story songs riddled with corny, dirty jokes. Now I have a treasure trove to take back to Jessica's grandpa the next time I see him.

Hey, that's mine!

I'm in the home stretch for finals and finally almost done for the semester. I have to finish two papers and a project for Monday, and then my exam is next Thursday. I'll leave it to higher stress levels, but I've become increasingly territorial about "my" computer in the school's lab. I sit at the same computer each Tuesday in my J2EE development class, and I prefer to use it any other time I'm working in the lab. Most of the systems have non-working Web servers which means I can't test my work, but the server on my computer has worked consistently all semester (though Firefox quit working last week, which is killing me). Finding someone in my seat is getting more and more like getting cut off during rush hour.

I came in today to do some testing for my project, and I was happy to see that only four other people had signed in so far. There are three labs open, and so the odds of me getting my preferred computer were pretty high. As I walked towards that room the lights were off but the door was open. Great! However, when I walked in the door I could see that someone was sitting there in the dark, alone, at my computer. One out of thirty seats was occupied and it was the only one I wanted. I slinked into the chair next to the aisle two rows back and sighed...

I've logged into five computers so far and none of them have a working Web server. I wonder if I could take that kid?

I taught the weeping willow how to cry

I watched Walk the Line last month and really enjoyed the film. I liked Johnny Cash and was aware of his music as a kid, but I didn't realize the story behind his character or his influence on modern music. I've always thought of him as a country singer, but he actually helped bring rock and roll to the masses. He originally signed with famed Sun Records in 1956, and was part of their "Million Dollar Quartet" of hit makers that consisted of Elvis Presley, Carl Perkins, and Jerry Lee Lewis. His first few songs played on the country charts, but he was promoted as a pop artist throughout the fifties and sixties, and had an early rock edge like his Sun contemporaries. He mixed country, rock, and blues influences, and his band was the first one to play for a country music audience with a drummer (shame!). Over the years he's played with Bob Dylan and U2, and of course covered Nine Inch Nails "Hurt" a few years ago.

The Man in Black brought a somber, honest edge to country and pop music that can still be noticed today. I dug out one of his greatest hits albums and have been listening to it during my commutes the last couple weeks, and it's been keeping me pretty good company. I like my job, but there's just something to be said about driving to work on a rainy weekday morning air picking to "Folsom Prison Blues."

Dual core goodness

It was a little painful parting with this much cash, but I used my freelance money to get a new laptop:



Is this thing ever sweet! It's the best overall performing machine I've ever used, and I have only good things to say about it so far. It's great to be untethered from the office (especially considering it's half a jungle). Doug found an amazing deal and so the final price ended up being almost exactly 50% retail. Here's a rundown on the specs:

• 1.83 GHz Dual Core processer


• 1 GB DDR2 SDRAM


• 15.4 inch UltraSharp widescreen LCD


• 2256 MB ATI MOBILITY™ RADEON? X1400 HyperMemory™ video card


• 60 GB 7200 RPM hard drive


• Internal wireless card

The hard drive is a little on the small side, but this is a work machine and so I'm not storing photos, music, etc. here. I am truly impressed with the image quality of the LCD. The UltraSharp line supports 1080i HD natively, and so movies look AWESOME.

The only negative comment I have is on the Dell docking station that I originally ordered. I'm not sure you can really call it a docking station; the laptop interacts with the external device via a single USB 2.0 connection and so video and all controls are shared over that line. It doesn't charge the battery or provide any security, which are the two things I was really looking for in a dock. Returns with Dell are easy, and so no harm done, but if you're thinking about a docking station option I would encourage you to do your research. The laptop itself is superb and I'm extremely happy with it.

And bonus: I wrote my previous post earlier today from the deck!

Welcome to the jungle

Jessica and I have a deal about the office in our house. I tend to trash it throughout each semester, textbooks lying open on the desk and floor and articles piled high in every possible nook and cranny, and then I clean it up after finals are over. Spring 2006 Clean Up Day is only two weeks away, and since the size and scope of the mess typically correlate with the busyness of the semester it's especially bad right now. Jessica is always extremely patient, but recently she let me know that it bothers her (in a much nicer way than I probably would if it bothered me so much):

Jessica: "Every time I walk into the office I hear GNR's 'Welcome to the Jungle.'"

Me: Ouch. "Why, because you need a machete to get from one side to another?"

Jessica: "No, because it gets worse here every day."

Double ouch. But she was right. I did some preemptive ground clearing and got the office back into somewhat of a presentable shape.

Fools tired of just one day in the sun

BLOOMINGTON, IL (AP) - For some, today is nothing but harmless fun: itching powder in your brother's socks, saran wrap on the toilet seat, or the local radio station cover the story of the alligator that escaped from the zoo. But for others, it's a sullen reminder that there is just one day out of the entire year that they earn any respect from friends, family, and co-workers.

You know them. We all know at least two or three.

They are the fools.

Hearing the increasing rumbling over the past two weeks as April 1 approached, we combed the streets to find out firsthand how our beloved fools are hit by this seemingly unfair slam on their stupidity. We found Herman Brinkleschnitzer wandering around a grocery store parking lot unable to find his car and asked him a few questions. "Oh, sure it's disheartening, but you get used to it. Just last week I tried to open a can of frozen juice concentrate with a can opener and everyone just laughed at me. Last week I was the butt of their jokes, but on April first I would have been king for a day. I don't get it."

Sally Bottacellitortellini agreed. "May is National Bike Month. There is a Sleep Awareness Week, and correct posture even gets a week of its own. I am one of millions. Why give people like us only a day?" In frustration she took the last sip of her soda, pulled off the tab and flipped it defiantly into the trash, and dropped the can into the "Cans only please" recycling bin.

This concern may seem like the kind of phenomenon that are becoming increasingly familiar in our politically correct, victim-oriented society, but surprisingly this is not a new issue. A 1771 edition of the Boston Truth describes how an organized group of fools banded together to march the courthouse square and demand consistent recognition. They got lost between the pub and the courthouse, which was only a three block walk, and when they realized that they had walked all the way to nearby Medford they quietly disbanded.

Their spirit is still alive and well today. We found people walking on Constitution Trail all too eager to share that group's sentiments. "Why honor my husband on just one day?" asked Vera Westingshack. "He's a moron 365, 24 7." Her walking partner Peggy, was quick to back that up. "Just last week he was complaining about the warm weather and wanted to enjoy watching one last snowfall. He took the snow blower up on the roof and kept dumping bags of ice into the blades. The idiot shot ice all over the back yard and broke a neighbor's window before he gave up. Don't ask me how he was smart enough to get the snow blower up there in the first place." Others related stories of being ignored outside of their special day, getting picked last for kickball as children, or even marking every day in April as "1" in their calendars to make themselves feel better.

After hearing his name from multiple people as the quintessential fool, we tracked down Carl Bumblefoot and asked him his thoughts. "April Fool's Day? I don't really recognize that. I'm no fool." Confused, we told him Herman's story about trying to open the frozen organge juice can with a can opener and asked him if he could relate. "What a dummy," he laughed. "He obviously didn't defrost it first."

Our apologies, Carl.

My niece is on the lamb

My niece Kylie is almost seven. She loves and does well in school, but for some reason earlier this month she was caught stealing things in her classroom. First she took a friend's charm bracelet, and then she took flowered Post-It Notes from her teacher's desk.

My sister made her return the bracelet and make a new charm bracelet to give to the little girl to show that she was sorry. She also threatened her with no gymnastics this summer if she did it again. Unfortunately those things didn't work; she took the Post-It Notes the next week.

I have to give my sister some creativity points for how she handled this. The teacher called her at work to tell her, and so Kylie didn't know firsthand that my sister knew about this. On her way home form work, my sister noticed a police officer's car at the library down the street from her house, and so she went in to see if she could talk with him. She explained what happened and asked him if he could say something to Kylie. My sister cooked up a little scenario with him, and when she came home she asked Kylie to get her books together from the library so that they could return them. When they got to the library, this is what went down:

Officer: "Excuse me, are you Kylie _______?"

Kylie: (completely shocked) "Yes, how did you know my name?"

Officer: "I know everyone's name in town. Kylie, I have to ask you something. Did you steal your friend's bracelet and something that belonged to your teacher?"

Kylie: (more nervous now) "Umm... yes. Who told you?"

Officer: "Nobody told me. As a police officer, it's my job to know whenever someone does something wrong or dangerous." (fantastic answer to a seven year old's question!)

Kylie: "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

Officer: "I believe you didn't do it to be mean on purpose. But I want you to promise me that you won't steal anything again. People who steal things hurt their friends' feelings, and their names go in the newspaper."

Kylie: "They do???"

Officer: They do. But you can't just promise. Adults shake hands when they really promise something, and then they can't go back on their word. I want you to make a big person's promise. Are you ready to make a big person's promise?"

Kylie: "Yes" (and she shakes his hand)

Officer: (smiling) "Great! Kylie, I'm proud of you. I know you'll keep your promise to me. You've always been a good girl."


It must have done the trick; she hasn't gotten in trouble at school once in the past two weeks. We'll see if it sticks once the shock wears off, but it definitely made an impression. If groundings and time outs don't work, you can always bring in the long arm of the law. ;-)

Cracking open the nut

So I've been gone for awhile. I don't have an excuse, really. School has me drowning this semester -- my last "real" semester before graduation! -- but that hasn't stopped me before. I'm a little mentally and creatively drained right now, and nothing has struck me. Not that I was changing the world before, but at least I was inspired to write something.

I often get asked what's going through my head, and it's typically hard to explain. Usually it's everything. That's the only way I can describe it. My consciousness has always been a windstorm of free associations and I have to concentrate to keep it in check when I'm not interested in the situation I find myself. Instead of focusing on the issue at hand I'll be thinking back to Rome, which leads to the song "The Promise" by When in Rome, which leads to Napolean Dynamite since that's the song played as the closing credits kick in, which takes me back to tetherball, which becomes the ratty, weathered yellow tetherball in my grade school gym with the blue stage curtains draped closed and Jenny Roake making fun of me for walking like an ape. Now I'm self conscious about how I'll look walking out of the meeting, and... I'm back to the meeting. What was that? Strategy? Hmm... stragety. Bugs Bunny. I knew I should have taken that left turn at Albuquerque.

My Quality Management class this semester is killing me. Watching paint dry for 75 minutes would keep me better occupied and be much less painful. I'm studying for a test in that class tomorrow, and as I flip through my sparse notes the margins tell the tale. I find these doodles and phrases scrawled down the sides of the pages.

• "So... We meet again, Dr. Jones."


• A sketch of Leonardo drawing his katana (yep, the teenage mutant ninja turtle)


• "Please Hammer, don't hurt 'em!"


• The Fibonacci sequence up to 144


• "Bruno don't shiv." (commonly overheard in "The Dark Knight Returns" by Frank Miller)


• "Mark riggity rox the hizznouse" (I'm not proud of that one, but I'm inclined to share it)


• "Susan yanked her suit coat tight and scanned the hallway in both directions. Empty. Her face gave away that she was flustered, but she smiled grimly when the door clicked shut behind her. He would never hurt her or anyone else ever again."


• A sketch of the next design for this site


• "Sven! How's that fresh schnitzel?!?"

We'll see how I do on that test tomorrow.

Cubemate phone calls

My friend and former co-worker Wendy emailed me last week with the subject line "Drawing skills and creativity needed." Somehow the email made it to me... ;-)

She told me about a co-worker that she and her cubemates always give a hard time, because he constantly calls them even though he sits right over the cubicle wall. The hilarious aspect of this situation is that the cube walls in her office are just under five feet high. You can crane your neck and sit up in your seat to see the person sitting next to you.

Wendy suggested that "there had to be a Dilbert in there somewhere," and that started the gears turning:

American Batman

My friend David inspired this one...

He borrowed my copy of Batman Begins on New Year's Eve and returned it to me today at work. He loved it, but did comment that he just couldn't get the flashbacks of Christian Bale in character in American Psycho (also a great flick!).

It got me thinking, what if Lions Gate and Warner Brothers teamed up to make a hybrid? Bruce Wayne's intelligence and skill combined with Patrick Bateman's dimentia and mental schism. What kind of character would that yield? Okay, maybe someone like Two Face or the Joker, and we're all trying to forget that train wreck.

Maybe we could go with the subtle approach. We revisit the scene in which Batman has just stopped the Scarecrow from releasing his toxins into Gotham City's water supply. Batman has the Scarecrow cornered in the cellar of Arkham Asylum, and he happens to find an axe next to a firehouse in the stairwell.

Tonight I'm cleanin' out my closet

So we've been cleaning out our "junk room" downstairs and all of our closets... Anyone who has lived with me (or walked past my desk at work) knows I save everything, and even I've raised an eyebrow at some things I had stored away under my roof. These things have survived at least two moves, but tonight I had to surrender them to the garbage:

• The Cocktail soundtrack on cassette


• A Budweiser bottle opener keyring


• A red plastic nose flute


• A seashell necklace


• A Dr. Seuss "I Love Reading" button


• All of my mail from college (I kept the letters and some of the cards, but the bills and junk mail needed to go.)

I'm keeping the Rubik's snake and orange haired Troll doll with the Chicago Bears jersey! A packrat has to draw the line somewhere.

There can be only one

A lot of Web developers drove to work this morning in Central Illinois. I'm sure some of them also drive an old Honda and listened to folk, punk, or rap on the way into the office.

But I'm probably the only Web developer in Central Illinois that drove to work in an old Honda and switched from David Gray, to Green Day, to Jay-Z in the CD player.

I got 99 problems but a lack of eclectic tastes ain't one. Hit me!

Old Man Winter is a schizophrenic bastard

As the song goes, the weather outside is frightful... in its total lack of consistency. Illinois weather is always unpredictable in the spring, but this winter has been particularly interesting. We had a cold November with snow coming before Thanksgiving and a January-style heavy snowfall in early December. In the last month the temperature has bounced around like a pinball from 20 one day to 60 the next, and then anywhere in between with snow, rain, or clear gray winter skies. A boy scout would pack a shirt, sweater, windbreaker, winter coat, poncho, and umbrella. I'm sure Pat Robertson could find a reason for nature's confusion (hint: it's our fault).

I often hear people say they enjoy Midwest weather despite its frustrations, and that they would "miss the change in seasons" if they went south, east, or west. I'm not sure I buy that, 80 and sunny every day sounds mighty tempting, but if I did I'd wonder why we had to see all of the changes over the span of two or three days. ;-)

I wish I could close my ears

Overheard in the hallway today...


I don't know the girl and so I don't know the guy either, but it made me think of two things: 1) a reminder of how lucky I am and how great I have it with Jessica, and 2) I wish I could warn the guy. Run, run for the hills! And don't look back!

Happy New Year!

I missed posting a Christmas message last weekend, and so I did not want to let today slip by without wishing everyone a Happy New Year. Hopefully 2006 will present you with moments even better than your best days in 2005.

I don't typically make resolutions because 1) they are usually broken after three weeks, and 2) I don't want to tie changes important enough to be deemed resolutions to a specific year. I have been eating healthier, gotten back into my exercise routine, and increased my reading pace over the past month and I plan to build upon those things, but I purposely started before the holidays and the new year so that I wasn't approaching them with a Resolution Mindframe. If you have made resolutions, good luck and stick with them!

Mind that killer windshield

I just saw a Buick commercial advertising a new feature in their luxury sedan line: preheated washer fluid (149 degrees!) to help clear the ice and snow from your windshield. As someone who has sat in his car in subzero temperatures for fifteen minutes just so his car can heat up enough to keep a porthole defrosted in his windshield, this sounds like a tremendous idea!

You know, though, that some idiot is going to file suit at some point over this for millions of dollars. I can see it now. Someone comes up to a Buick with a spray bottle and squeegy, and the pissed off driver times it just right to splatter him with hot washer fluid. They should print a disclaimer on the windshield now while there's still time (see McDonald's coffee cups).

Travelling through the Irish countryside

We spent much of our time in Ireland travelling by bus, and that never got boring. The countryside is beautiful with rolling hills, hand-built limestone walls, tower ruins, and cliffs and beaches dotting the coasts. The western part of the country will take your breath away. It's the result of a tectonic plate jutting upwards out of the Atlantic, and so the cliffs and hills are magnificent. If I had my fill of hills and farms for the time being, I could take a nap or read my book until we hit a new region of land. After finishing my semester, that was just what the doctor ordered.

On the first evening we went hiking through a field of limestone flats in the Burren, the rocky region in the western part of Ireland. The ground is literally covered with a broken crust of limestone sheets, and this where all of the walls lining old farms and property lines sprang from. These walls are everywhere in western Ireland. They are hand built without mortar, and some have stood for thousands of years. We also saw a tomb which is estimated to be up to 6,000 years old. It's made from three large sheets of limestone that are stacked as two walls and a top roof. Some of the sheets weigh up to 20 tons. Stacking them was an engineering feat, and these structures are thought to be the origin of Celtic myths of Ireland being first settled by giants.

That first night we stopped in a tiny village outside of Doolin near the west coast, and it consisted of a hostel, two pubs, and a couple dozen houses. I had delicious Irish stew and homemade bread, and we got to know our tour guide, Jerome, and some of our fellow travellers. Dave from Australia was geeked up about the World Cup bracket drawing playing on the TV behind us, and we talked with many of the students about their semesters' travels around Europe and Russia. Our room that night was private and cost us only $26, with a community bathroom in the hallway shared by ten of us in five rooms. The rest of the group stayed downstairs in a large room filled with bunkbeds. Most of us turned in early that night after a long day of travel, and we were heading out early to see the Cliffs of Moher before sunrise.

Check out some photos of the countryside and coastline.

25 years ago today...

... I turned 5.

I don't remember what I got for my 5th birthday, but I'll always remember this cake. It was 1980, and I had seen "The Empire Strikes Back" earlier that year. I was of course obsessed with all things Star Wars, particularly R2 and Yoda. My mom found this mold and surprised me with this cake that afternoon (probably when I got up from a nap). It was a gagillion times greater than sliced bread.

Jessica had an even better surprise in store for me after work on Friday. We stopped by Maggie Miley's, an Irish pub here in town that we particularly like, and I saw my good friend Rich sitting at the bar. "Wild, there's Rich sitting there," I told Jessica, moving towards the bar. As I went over to him I glanced over my left shoulder and saw Anton and Mike, and so I whirled around to give Jessica the best fake evil eye that I could. The jig was up. "The gang should all be here!" she said.

Rich, Rich (there are two!), Anton, Mike, Sherry, Brian, Doug, Jeff, Jason, Jen, and especially Jessica, thank you all very much for a great evening celebrating my birthday. I'm not sure if I've ever hung out with all of you at the same time, and it was great chatting, eating and drinking, and catching up with everybody. With friends like these I'm sure that that five year old clutching onto R2-D2 would be pretty excited to know what he has in store for him.

Things worthwhile are seldom easy

We packed a lot into four days in our trip to Ireland, and a few times I was afraid that it might become the trip that never was.

That actually started about a month ago. Jessica was summoned for jury duty and called in the week before Thanksgiving, and she "passed" the initial jury selection. The judge told the remaining candidates that they would be part of a four to six week trial, and he told Jessica flat out that "personal travel is no grounds for excuse from a jury," and that we would not receive any reimbursement for the expenses that we already paid (cancellation fees would have come to almost $400). Luckily the attorneys did not select Jessica as part of the final twelve, and so we were in the clear for our trip.

Enter Mother Nature. The trip to O'Hare Airport is usually two and a half hours, and we gave ourselves five with the snow just starting to come down and five inches in the forecast. Outside of town the roads were considerably worse than they were in our neighborhood, and I was heading up the highway at about 45 mph. Just north of Joliet we hit Chicago traffic; people were panicking and rush hour started a couple hours early. To make a long story short, it took another four hours to go the last thirty miles. We averaged a whopping 8 mph. Cars were in the ditch, cars were sitting in the middle of the interstate spinning out and causing two-mile backups, and no snow plows could get through with the heavy traffic. I literally slid all the way down the tollway ramp, and the whole time we kept watching the clock. We were both thinking the same thing but not saying it out loud: we weren't going to make it.

We got to O'Hare ninety minutes before our flight so we felt a lot better, but the signs were iced over and so we made a wild guess on where to park. We parked in the wrong spot, but a guy playing an alto saxaphone in the hallway came up and asked us where we were going. "Can you direct us to American Airlines's terminal?" I asked. "Of course, Terminal 3," he assured me. "I'll show you a shortcut to the tram. I know everything... except how to get a recording contract." We made a beeline to the tram, shook his hand, and he wished us a Merry Christmas with a tip of his Santa hat and a wide, toothless grin. Merry Christmas, friend!

We checked in, got to our gate, and boarded the plane uneventfully. Most domestic flights were cancelled, but they were redirecting international flights in a large arc around the storm and we were set to leave on time. Unfortunately, the copilot crackled in over the intercom five minutes before our takeoff to announce that his captain was stuck on the highway and was estimating he'd be forty five minutes late. An hour later he made it, but then since we'd been sitting still for two hours the plane needed some extra attention for de-icing.

By all means my good man, do whatever you need to do to de-ice the plane! ;-)

We got off the ground and were set to land in Dublin two and a half hours late. That was bad for us; we had a two hour buffer to catch our tour bus. We had made a contingency plan to take a public bus to their first stop in case we missed them, but when we left the airport we found out that the bus workers were striking. We did some frantic asking with the cab drivers outside the exit and found someone to drive us two hours to the meeting point with the tour bus. It cost more than my round trip ticket from Chicago to Dublin, but we were off. He stopped twice to let us make phone calls, paying for the calls, and dropped us off at a corner in Ballinasloe, a tiny village with one main street lined with pubs, coffee shops, and a hotel if the bus didn't show. Sure enough, a bright yellow charter bus came humming around a winding corner and the brakes squealed as it passed us on the curb.

Jessica went running after it and a short man in camouflage pants and a dark mop of hair came bounding out of the bus. "You Jessica?" he asked in a perfect Irish accent. "Yes, are you Jerome?" "You betcher ass I am. Let's get you two on the bus. We have two seats saved for you right in front."

At that moment we were home free. We had our faithful guide, we stuffed our bags into the bus's luggage compartment, and we started out into the Irish countryside. Despite our rocky start, we were on our way to the Emerald Isle's west coast.

Slainte!

We got back from Ireland last night. We had a blast! Ireland is truly a beautiful, amazing country. I'll be posting separate entries for the rest of the week probably describing what we saw and heard, and I'll post photos once I get those situated for the Web (we got 40-50 good ones it looks like).

For now I just wanted to let folks know I'm back and had a great time.

Brominated vegetable oil

I'm coming into the home stretch with the current semester and so today was a Mountain Dew kind of day. I looked at the bottom of the ingredients list and saw "Brominated Vegetable Oil" listed. What the heck is that?

I did some searching and I don't think I'll be doing the Dew any longer. The dyes in most citrus flavored sodas are chemically combined with Bromine to make the dye molecules heavier and match the density of the water (this prevents the liquids from separating in the bottle or can). What exactly is bromine, you ask? I found the following here:



The FDA did not allow its use until 1977, and it remains on the FDA's list of most toxic food additives. They reexamine its effects and use in foods every six months. Yikes! Trace amounts of toxic chemicals lingering around that I can prevent? The sugar, acid, and caffeine are already bad enough... I need to learn to appreciate black coffee after those late nights.

Will design for launch codes

Oh, good.

Ireland bound!

Jessica and I are going to Ireland this month! There's a back story here, but to make it short we got last-minute deals on tickets with two other friends of ours and we're going on a shoestring. Round trip from Chicago to Dublin cost $230 USD, and we found a three-day, countryside bus tour that we'll take for $90 USD including lodging. I'll finish my semester of classes the day before we leave, and that will definitely be a most welcomed break. I've done nothing but breathe school these last few weeks, and my earliest bedtime this week has been 1:00 am. It's high time to get some rest (on the plane) and tackle a fun adventure.

The tour should give us great exposure to Ireland in a short amount of time. We'll circle the perimeter of southern Ireland, and the stops include whiskey distilleries, castles, the Cliffs of Mohr, the Blarney Stone, and many of the pubs and farms in between. When we return to Dublin we'll have the afternoon and evening to do some exploring, and then the first half of the next day before going to the airport. Ideally it would be nice to spend a little more time in Dublin but we couldn't pass up the opportunity, and given the time we have I'd rather see more of Ireland than just the city.

I'll be sure to report back with pictures. I'm guessing I won't have an opportunity to post while we're there, but if I run across an Internet cafe I'll check in. It would be cool to post an entry from overseas. ;-)

stopglobalwarming.org

Okay people, it's (past) time to make changes in our energy consumption habits and let our governments know that we recognize global warming as a problem that we need to fight. The evidence does not seem debatable to me. Average temperatures continue to rise, hurricane frequencies and intensities increase, and new scientific evidence demonstrates that we have put ourselves into a very unusual, dangerous position since the Industrial Revolution.

Temperatures, greenhouse gases, and sea levels are at their highest points in 650,000 years. Since the beginning of the Industrial Revolution, sea levels have risen at twice their historic rate. The average temperatures around the globe are gradually climbing.

What can we do as individuals? I watched the "Earth to America" special on TBS two weeks ago, and its companion Web site, stopglobalwarming.org, lists a host of ideas that everyone can easily do in the home. Things like keeping your car tires inflated and adjusting your thermostat by two degrees will have a cumulative impact higher than you might think. Trading in your SUV for a car that gets just 8 mpg better gas mileage can decrease the CO2 output from your vehicle by 3000 pounds per year.

The TV special itself was a variety show put on by comedians and actors to help raise awareness of the issue. They are using the Web site to form a virtual petition that can be presented to local, state, and federal governments to show them that a large percentage of the American people care about battling global warming. Their goal is one million; currently there are over 230,000 people registered. I signed up and wrote a note on my personal profile. Regardless of political ties, many prominent people are on the list. Many democratic and liberal leaders are on the list of course, but John McCain was also the third to sign up. Some of my local and state officials have signed up, which I am happy to see.

If we all start making small changes and sacrifices as individuals perhaps we can slow down the effects of global warming, and by attaching our names to an effort such as this we can also look to Washington to make major changes that could perhaps reverse the effects for future generations.

Mark vs. Anakin Skywalker

Jessica and I got our newphew Anakin Skywalker's Jedi fighter ship as a Christmas present, and so I needed to find Anakin to go with it. "It's not on his list," Jessica and her sister said. A boy can't have a ship without its captain!

This was a problem, though. We got the ship at Target and they didn't have an Anakin action figure in stock. After work yesterday I went to Wal-Mart and Toys R Us and didn't have any luck. Did I give up? Nope. I went to the other nearby Wal-Mart but still came up empty handed and checked those stores' online counterparts as well as amazon.com and starwars.com, but everyone was out of stock. Prices on eBay were $10 - $40 and so I still wanted to find it somewhere local.

I racked my brain trying to think of a store that still had a reasonable toy department. Most department stores don't carry toys anymore since Toys R Us and Wal-Mart gulped up the market (I remember running to the toy department at Sears and Bergner's to look at Star Wars and Transformers goodies). The only one I could think of was K-Mart. I drove over and zeroed in on their toy department, and sure enough I hit paydirt. I flipped through the boxes on the rows of hooks one by one, and Anakin was in the very back on the bottom right hook.

We are officially done Christmas shopping, which leaves me time to prepare my Uncle of the Year acceptance speech. ;-)

A quotable quote

Found today on a guide to writing unmaintainable code:

But you at so much you nearly split your pants

I was walking out the door to go to work and bent down to pick up my laptop bag.

"Mark, what happened?"

"What?"

"Your pants... They're split all the way down the middle!"

I wasn't convinced. I marched into the bathroom and checked things out for myself. I can honestly say that I never heard or felt a rip, and I've never had this happen before (honest!), but without going into too much detail my boxer shorts were peeking out at me through the gaping hole appearing where my dress pants should have been.

The worst part was that I had only worn the pants two times. They fit fairly baggy, too. Now I know why they were on sale for $25.

Jessica ran them by a sewing shop over her lunch hour (I'm lucky for her), and they're all patched up, resewn, and rebar reinforced for the rat race. I'm mustering up the courage to try them out again tomorrow.

Office 2003 sucks

I upgraded to Office 2003 recently and it's literally brought my laptop to its knees. Simple tasks like opening my calendar in Outlook and opening an Excel file take 2-3 minutes sometimes, and switching between Office applications locks up my machine for almost one minute every time. Some of the features are really cool, but it's noticeably lowered my productivity.

My laptop is pretty robust: the chip is only 1.2 GHz but I have 1 GB of RAM. I checked out the system requirements for XP Pro and Office 2003, and both require 233 MHz with 128 MB of RAM. Only 300 MHz is recommended for XP. I'm way over that; I feel for anyone out there that is running this configuration on an older computer (of course, owners of those computers probably don't have Office 2003).

On the plus side, maybe this will give me an excuse to get that G-ed out, Alienware command center in a box I've always wanted. ;-)

What's in your cookie?

Hey, things should soon be going great! I've cracked open the following three predictions in my fortune cookies over the last two weeks:

As a kid I couldn't wait to finish my meal at a Chinese restaurant and find out what bit of ancient wisdom was scrawled in machine typeset across the paper inside my fortune cookie. I even put some stock into what was printed there. Fate played a hand in what was printed, and then also in which one I happened to grab from the table, right?

Everyone probably does this to some degree, but I went that much further and kept my favorite ones in a little box in my sock drawer. They are in an envelope stuck in my nightstand with the pictures I've taken and received since starting college. These fortunes fit nicely next to my love of inspirational quotes.

Today, of course, they're a fun diversion at best (especially when you add the obligatory "... in bed" to the end of each one). One of my favorite quotes is also true when it comes to fortunes: the harder and more consistently you work, the luckier you get. I wonder sometimes if that is a selfish concept, or somewhat of an American one. To that eight year old boy scarfing down his chicken chow mein just so he could get his fortune cookie that might sound a little scary, but now it's liberating. There will always be external influences outside of our control, sometimes life changing, but we are each the navigator of our own fortunes more than any other individual. Like it or not, our lives turn out very much like we make them. If they're not turning out anything like we wanted them to, 1) we now want something different, or 2) we're not truly doing everything possible to make that dream a reality.

I may be rich one day or sell an idea with merit, but if so it will be by my own hand. The world owes me nothing, and I expect nothing from it. I can only ask something of myself, and so I intend to do everything I can to answer that request. If I printed my own cookie fortune, it would read something like this:

Kylie, gangsta rappa

I met my parents at Pizza Hut Friday night and they were babysitting my niece Kylie, who is now six and in first grade. A group of about forty people started coming in at the same time for a birthday party, and the place got pretty crazy pretty fast. There were two dozen kids running around, hip hop music cranking on the jukebox, and even a magician in one corner putting on a show.

Kylie made friends with one of the little girls in the bathroom and went back to her table to introduce herself (this is common). The girl's father was sporting some major bling; from our table I could see a few rings on his fingers and gold chains around his neck. Kylie came back and whispered into Jessica's ear: "Aunt Jessica, did you see that girl's dad? I want a gold tooth for Christmas."

I'm sure grandma and grandpa will jump at the chance.

I need a research topic

I need a research topic for my Artificial Intelligence class this semester. I'm absolutely stumped on what to research.

We've covered game playing almost the entire semester so far (this is my professor's field of research). I'm a little sick of that and would like to do something else, but nothing is floating my boat right now. I'd like something related to the Web or business, or even a fun diversion to motivate me through the end of the semester.

Any ideas? Off the wall suggestions are encouraged.

New look, same questionable taste!

Or... I reboot, therefore I am.

No, this isn't a test. Do not adjust your set. I present the new look for garmana::blog, fresh for the Fall 2005 CSS Reboot. Over the next six hours, almost one thousand site owners around the world are launching their new Web Standards-compliant designs.

If you're using a feed reader, please link to the site and check out the new digs.

For me, this was a long time coming. I launched the site almost a year and a half ago, and the old "design" was lackluster at best. I was new to coding CSS-based layouts and wanted to use the site as my training ground. My intent was to learn a few tricks of the trade and get something up quickly that was easier to look at.

Well, life got in the way and here we are. Many months, classes, packed weekends, and distractions later I'm finally ready with version two. The goal this time around is to not only display some of my creativity, but also to clean up my markup and show my respect for Web Standards. For non-Web type folks, that means I've taken the time and care to avoid being sloppy behind the scenes with my design and programming, and developed my Web site the way that true professionals develop them. If you are a Web professional and hesitant about Web Standards, I've also included thoughts on the subject with the new site.

If you're new to the site, welcome! If you're one of my five loyal readers, I'm glad you're here for the next iteration.

I should have prepared for this

Hey, things should soon be going great! I've cracked open the following three predictions in my fortune cookies over the last two weeks:




As a kid I couldn't wait to finish my meal at a Chinese restaurant and find out what bit of ancient wisdom was scrawled in machine typeset across the paper inside my fortune cookie. I even put some stock into what was printed there. Fate played a hand in what was printed, and then also in which one I happened to grab from the table, right?

Everyone probably does this to some degree, but I went that much further and kept my favorite ones in a little box in my sock drawer. They are in an envelope stuck in my nightstand with the pictures I've taken and received since starting college. These fortunes fit nicely next to my love of inspirational quotes.

Today, of course, they're a fun diversion at best (especially when you add the obligatory "... in bed" to the end of each one). One of my favorite quotes is also true when it comes to fortunes: the harder and more consistently you work, the luckier you get. I wonder sometimes if that is a selfish concept, or somewhat of an American one. To that eight year old boy scarfing down his chicken chow mein just so he could get his fortune cookie that might sound a little scary, but now it's liberating. There will always be external influences outside of our control, sometimes life changing, but we are each the navigator of our own fortunes more than any other individual. Like it or not, our lives turn out very much like we make them. If they're not turning out anything like we wanted them to, 1) we now want something different, or 2) we're not truly doing everything possible to make that dream a reality.

I may be rich one day or sell an idea with merit, but if so it will be by my own hand. The world owes me nothing, and I expect nothing from it. I can only ask something of myself, and so I intend to do everything I can to answer that request. If I printed my own cookie fortune, it would read something like this:

Days off = intangible gold

I have the good fortune in my job to have every other Friday off, and today has turned out to be a great day. No apartments to clean, no work to dial in and check up on, and a manageable amount of homework. I'm also working on my new design for the Fall 2005 CSS Reboot (note the link above and to the right).

It's been a productive and relaxing day. I caught a couple episodes of Seinfeld, ran, and read in between my to-do items, and I've also re-obssessed myself with The Dandy Warhols. I dug their sound my senior year of college, and then I got turned off for awhile when it became chic in Hollywood to say that you loved them. I got reacquainted with their first album last weekend and I downloaded the others today, and I have to say that they're all worth a listen. We shall see if the constant dose today affects my design for the better or worse...

Mark vs. the hamster wheel

My own mistakes are often the things that are hardest for me to deal with. Or, unfortunately, the easiest for me to not deal with. Large ones, small ones, silly ones; it doesn't matter. The only thing I hate more than making mistakes is admitting that I made them. I am people pleaser, and I usually equate making a mistake with letting someone down.

I came across this quote this morning and it struck a chord with me. Not that it's a magic wand that I can wave for a life-altering change in outlook, but it helps me put things a little more in perspective.



Mistakes are 100% natural. Learning and growth cannot occur without them, and more importantly, neither can success. We've all heard the stories of Thomas Edison's failed light bulb attempts and famous authors covering their walls with rejection letters. Some may unnaturally get lucky on their first attempts, but most roads to success are paved with pitfalls, perseverance, and lessons learned through mistakes.

So why am I waxing on about this? Am I striving to become the next Tony Robbins. With all due respect to Mr. Robbins, no way. I feel like my life is cruising along too much on autopilot. I have a lot of things going on, but they're not really moving me forward. I wonder whether I've subconsciously chosen things that keep me busy, but safe from sticking my neck too far out. I'm not unhappy and I don't pine for a drastic change in life, but I also recognize that life could be even better if I was following a focused course.

This site is evidence of that. I've been posting less frequently in the last six months. Some of the reason for that has been my schedule, but mostly it's been from lack of substance. I could continue to post about my day or upcoming movies and the latest gadgets, but that doesn't build interest for me or my readers. Those topics have their place, but I don't want them to dominate my content. I want to share my ideas and opinions, and I want those to come through in a variety of forms: posts, examples of my writing, and even other forms of multimedia. Those who know me well know that I dream of directing a movie, and this site is the perfect vehicle for getting that off the ground. I can elicit feedback on ideas, recruit help, and post the progress and final result. I'd like to go through the content on the site twenty years from now and see a progression instead of a procession.

I'm also asking you to walk down that road with me, loyal readers (all five of you). As I shift the focus of my site I'll be taking a risk but I have a feeling we'll all be much better off for it. I'll ask for feedback, do my best to take it all in constructively, and learn from my mistakes. I'm not looking for any personal fortune or glory from anything that comes out of it. I wouldn't refuse it of course, but that's secondary. Fulfillment and personal growth are the real rewards.

Absentee blogger

Between midterms, work, around-the-house activities the past couple weeks, my posts have been sparse again. A few people have asked; the climbing trip to Kentucky was great! I will post pictures and a few stories this week hopefully, probably after my last midterm Wednesday.

I came back with some good stories in my notebook from the trip, including one memorable exchange between Rich, David, and myself (me looking like a nube, of course):

What can I say? I haven't slept in a tent since I was 8.

We're all from slightly different planets

I'm not painting myself as an extreme sportsman, but I've been around my share of different extreme and outdoor sports to realize that each one carries its own subculture. Skiers are different than you and me. Skateboarders? Different. Skydivers? Crazy wack jobs hellbent on cheating death on a daily basis.

Rock climbers fall into the same family (or, out of I suppose?). They use their own lingo, treasure their own heroes, and are probably the most accepting, welcoming groups I've come across in this arena. Everyone I've come across at a climbing gym or outdoors has been friendly, wanting to swap stories, and helpful with recommendations on parks, gear, etc.

Friends David, Rich, and I are climbing down in Kentucky soon and we wanted to secure a campsite. David's conversation below seems typical for the proprieters of the climbing and camping areas down there:

Crash test dummies

I couldn't resist! For those of you using an RSS reader, open the entry and click to see my very own movie trailer!

For those of you reading the Net at work (and I know none of you do this), you'll need pretty recent or the most recent versions of Flash and Quicktime.

What jumped out of your cake?

You know you work in IT when you overhear the following on the escalator:

"Your wedding is in like a month. Unbelievable! What are you doing for your bachelor party?"

"I'm having a LAN party at my house."

"What? A LAN party??? You're not getting drunk or going to a strip club or anything?"

Of course, ribbing and hem hawing has to occur in a group of men at this point. It did occur, but not in the way you'd expect.

"Dude, lighten up. I had a LAN party for my bachelor party."

"I wanted to, but my best man wouldn't let me."

"What??? Why can't you at least get drunk like normal people?"

"Oh, we had beer. Trust me. Battlefield 1942 is soooo much better wasted. Talk about dog fights!"

And the entire space filled with gregarious laughter.

And it's not even February 2nd

Coming into work this morning was like deja vu all over again. I got behind the same bus #113 and waited for it to make a couple stops around the corner from my house before I could safely pass it. I drove into the parking lot at the same time as yesterday and parked behind the same silver Bonneville. A man and a woman I don't know walked into my line of sight from the right, we walked towards the building in different rows of the parking lot, and we converged at the front door within a few steps of each other. Just like yesterday. Before we crossed the street to get to our building the same balding guy in a security vehicle drove in front of us. Again.

"Good morning, Mark," one of the managers on my floor said from behind me as I got off the elevator. Chuckling, he added, "Hey, I think this was just a replay of yesterday wasn't it?"

If I run into an annoying guy from high school that just happens to sell insurance, I'm running home kicking and screaming. But I am looking forward to the piano and ice sculpting lessons.

This month's customer service award goes to...

One of Jessica's responsibilities at her new(ish) job is conducting orientation for new consultants coming to Central Illinois for the first time. Part of that usually includes breakfast or dinner, depending on when they come into town, and IHOP is right down the street from her office.

She took a new employee to IHOP for breakfast, and midway through his meal his omelette crunched. He had bitten into a roach.

Jessica waved their waitress over and showed her what happened. The response:

"Gosh, I'm really sorry. We keep calling Terminix but they just keep coming back."

That's not exactly the right thing to say if you want repeat customers. Needless to say, she's looking for a new breakfast spot.

A useful idea?

I have an unfortunate, notorious habit of coming up with a marketable idea 90 days after someone else. A keychain WiFi detector? Done. Using a digital camera for side and rear view mirrors? Done.

This morning Jessica was driving back from Chicago and got turned around trying to find the interstate. She called and I was using Google Maps to help her get back on track. She asked me how far it was from her current location to the next major street. I looked down at the legend and looked at the bar listing an inch as 500 ft. I furrowed my brow: she was seven or eight lengths away, how exactly would that translate into distance and time?

That's not an impossible calculation of course, but how cool would it be if you could trace along a route with your mouse and get the distance in real time? Very cool, in my humble opinion. I found Google's feedback form and sent my idea below. I'm planting my flag in that one. ;-)

Email submitted:



These already exist in the physical world, and so I'm likely not the first one to think of this either. But, maybe I'm the first one to suggest it to Google. Now, if only I could find someone willing to market that Web site that tracks the history of used cars. Oops, wait...

So, seven years ago I was...

Google is seven years old today. Google has accomplished huge goals in that timeframe, and it got me thinking: What was I doing seven years ago, and what have I accomplished in that time?

Seven years ago I was a recent college graduate living in an empty apartment, the living/dining room furnished with a kitchen table and two chairs, my rack stereo, and a 13" TV sitting on an end table. My bedroom had a bed, dresser and drafting table from childhood. Other than that, my apartment was bare. (Though it would soon be filled somewhat by a new room mate when Rich moved in right aboutt his time.)

At this time seven years ago I was single, and too overwhelmed with starting a new job and my new life to think about that all that much. I was out of training in my corporate IT job for about a month and attempting to figure out my place there. New job, new debt, old car, and new responsibilities. We all become adults on paper on our eighteenth birthdays here, but this was the real start of my adulthood.

In the time in between then and now a lot has changed. Jessica and I both grew up a lot, got back together, and got married. I jumped out of a perfectly good airplane (twice!). I became a homeowner. I got a position doing development work for my company's Web site, which I wanted day one walking in the door. I sat in the ruins of Ancient Rome and wrote in my notebook, soaking in the weight of the history around me. I gained 40 pounds and lost 30. I became an uncle three times over. I saw the Statue of Liberty and New York City's skyline without thinking about our country's mistakes and vulnerabilities. I learned how to replace a toilet, and frame and drywall a room. I learned my way around Chicago and found a place to get $2 bottles of beer (no simple feat). I tore down two farm houses with my dad and a cousin. I learned to ski. I grew a little more cynical about some things, and hopeful about others. I learned to laugh at myself and accept the fact that I can't do everything (though I'm still not happy about it). ;-)

What will the next seven years bring? Only time will tell, but of course I have a list of things I hope come true. I want to become a father. I want to finish my Masters. My parents will retire and I'll be nearing upon 40 (I don't want either to bother me). I want to continue growing in my career and make a difference outside of my company as well. I want to finish my novels. I want to finish a feature length film. I want to stay close to family and all of the great friends I've made along the way and find a handful of new ones, and laugh and cry and wonder and jump up and down with them and enjoy every minute we have. And most importantly, I want to look back on those last seven with a smile and a hopeful gaze at the next.

It's Fall, so...

It's time for a bad Autumn geek joke:

Q: What do you get when you divide a Jack o' Lantern's circumference by its diameter?

A: Pumpkin Pi.


I'm not sure that one even qualifies for Laffy Taffy (I apologize).

Jessica vs. the spider

All foes treacherous in our house have so far reared their ugly heads in the laundry room. Last night Jessica went downstairs to put towels into the dryer, and I heard a blood curdling scream from the basement.

"What's the matter?"

"Mark, hurry! There's a spider in the dryer!!!"

Jessica has a phobia of sorts for spiders. There are no horrific stories from her childhood involving an eight-legged creature, but she immediately freezes when she sees one (after the screaming...). The woman can jump out of an air plane and tell an angry mob of drunk college guys that they can't go into a concert, but she achieves full catatonia when an arachnid crosses her path.

I went downstairs and found a fairly big spider in the dryer, and it bolted immediately for the shelter of one of the blades inside the bin. I could just see it, but I couldn't hit it with a rolled up newspaper or coax it out in plain view with a hanger. It was an expert hider. After a few times painfully cracking my elbox against the mouth of the dryer trying to hit it, I knew I'd have to use something else.

I didn't want to spray chemicals into the dryer but I did want to use it again someday, and so I inhumanely did the next thing I thought of: I turned on the dryer. I figured I'd get the spider a little dizzy and then swat it.

To make a long story short, dryers quickly kill spiders. I opened the door after a few minutes and he was curled up into a ball at the base of the dryer bin. I scooped him up onto a newspaper and tossed him outside.

I felt a twinge of guilt -- I don't want to become a torturer of any animal, even if it's an unwelcomed spider -- but we did win the battle and regain the use of our dryer.

Anything but

pet peeve \pet · pev\ n - Attempting to renew your license plate sticker online to save on paperwork and postage only to find that there is a $1.75 "convenience fee" attached. syn backwards, inhibitive, behind the times. ant progressive, innovative, cutting edge.

I have to say, Illinois' cyberdriveillinois site was and is a great asset for various dealings with our Secretary of State, but I was disappointed to see that they are tacking on an extra fee to online license plate renewals. I don't understand this. It's great that they offer the online option, and what a wasted opportunity to encourage people to use the system and improve upon the red tape.

A good system requires development and maintenance costs, but it also eliminates a mountain of clerical work as a result. If you encourage more and more people to do things like this online (maybe with a $1.00 discount?), then you can reap a large ROI down the road on your development costs.

Taxes, concert tickets, and even movie tickets are the same. Come on already. Six to ten Web support people costs more than the same number of paper pushers, but if you get a good rate of adoption you might be able to reduce that number of paper pushers in half. Operating efficiencies are punishments to government bodies because they don't get as big a bucket in their budget the next year, but I would think this would be appealing to a business answering to investors.

Personally, I'll be filling out my card and attaching my 37-cent stamp, saving myself $1.38 and a trip to my bedroom to get my credit card number. It's a shame, really.

Attack of the fifty-foot script kiddies

My site was hacked for the first time recently. Someone used my site as a launching pad to send spam to be exact.

I received some odd emails last week auto-generated from the site with bogus "from" and "to" values in the message headers, and they all contained bergkoch8@aol.com as a bcc recipient. The message bodies themselves were just a short string of gibberish. Hmm...

I did some searching on that AOL email address and found that it is commonly used in spamming attempts. The spammer tries to hack your site's email form by adding extraneous email header values into the fields on the form, and then waits for an email to be delivered to that bcc address. If the email is delivered, the spammer can inspect the results to get information about your code and security, and adjust the bogus code accordingly. After it's tweaked enough the spammer can use your web form to send spam to any recipient he or she wants, and the owner of the web site is none the wiser.

Except I received the emails because I forward all undeliverable messages in my domain to an admin email account. It was my fault; I had an unplugged security hole in my contact form that was easily exploitable by any Mountain Dew guzzling fourteen year old without a social life. Time to do some patchwork with something other than my finger in the dam.

If this happens to you, the easiest line of defense is to replace any and all carriage returns in your form fields with empty strings. This breaks the email header format and the message cannot be delivered. This document provides some details on how the attack works and how to prevent it.

Not that I'm offering an invitation to prove me wrong, but this should take care of this problem at least. Of course this sucks; I hope there weren't too many people that received spam messages originated from my site. On the flip side, this is a bit like a graduation. Someone I don't know at least found the site. ;-)

Who's lurking about?

I came across this on the QuickBits section of simplebits.com: a cool new service called gVisit. The short, non-techy version: this free service shows markers on a Google Map indicating from where people are viewing your Web site.

The longer, geeky version: they map your IP to the geographical location allocated for that address and use Google Map's API to plot the points on the map. All I need to do is add a single line of Javascript to the page passing along my ID, and voila! If you're on a layover in Gnome, Alaska and pop in for a gander, I'll gnow about it. If you're on the coast of the Mediterranean, we'll sea you. The basic service is free which shows the last 20 locations of users hit