The Big Story That Isn't

Early this month Israel launched an attack against Syria.

On September 6, Israeli Air Force F-15 and F-16s conducted a devastating attack on targets deep inside Syria near the city of Dayr az-Zawr. Israel's military censors have muzzled the Israeli media, enforcing an extraordinary silence about the identity of the targets.

Considering that everything Israel does is front-page news, let alone an aggressive act, this story is amazingly quiet. And, perhaps more important, according to an article by Dr. Jack Wheeler is who besides the press is silent: Syria.

Why would the Syrian government be so tight-lipped about an act of war perpetrated on their soil? The first half of the answer lies in this story that appeared in the Israeli media last month (8/13): Syria's Antiaircraft System Most Advanced In World. Syria has gone on a profligate buying spree, spending vast sums on Russian systems, 'considered the cutting edge in aircraft interception technology.' ... While you're digesting that, take a look at the map of Syria: Notice how far away Dayr az-Zawr is from Israel. An F15/16 attack there is not a tiptoe across the border, but a deep, deep penetration of Syrian airspace. And guess what happened with the Russian super-hyper-sophisticated cutting edge antiaircraft missile batteries when that penetration took place on September 6th. Nothing.

El blanko. Silence. The systems didn't even light up, gave no indication whatever of any detection of enemy aircraft invading Syrian airspace, zip, zero, nada. The Israelis (with a little techie assistance from us) blinded the Russkie antiaircraft systems so completely the Syrians didn't even know they were blinded. Now you see why the Syrians have been scared speechless.

He goes on to note that Iran is nervous:

On Monday (9/17), a government website proclaimed that '600 Shihab-3 missiles' will be fired at targets in Israel in response to an attack upon Iran by the US/Israel. ... This was followed by Iranian deputy air force chief Gen. Mohammad Alavi announcing today (9/19) that 'we will attack their (Israeli) territory with our fighter bombers as a response to any attack.' A sure sign of panic is to make a threat that everyone knows is a bluff. So our and Tel Aviv's response to Iranian bluster is a thank-you-for-sharing yawn and a laugh. Few things rattle the mullahs' cages more than a yawn and a laugh.

It would be very interesting if the beginning of the end of the Iran Problem was so subtle that most of us missed it.

Impersonal Life

It occurred to me that I live a very insulated life. Most of my friends are online, and nearly all I've never met. Most of the people I interact with at work work in other buildings or other cities. When I come home I pull straight into the garage and seldom see my neighbors.

In short, many of the people who hold important roles in my life are little more than voices on the phone or posts on a chatboard. My circle of friends spans the nation and globe, living and working in places I may never see.

A hundred years ago most people never met anyone from outside their town, and yet they knew nearly everyone there personally. It is a strange and wonderful world.

Someone I never met but admired greatly died yesterday. Someone who has never really existed for me outside my own head is gone. The hole he leaves is real.

Sci-Fi Meets IT

I'm currently reading "Xenocide" by Orson Scott Card. In it they discover that an intelligent entity has somehow gained life while living among the faster-than-light communications connections throughout the galaxy. A major plot point revolves around an 80-day deadline before all the computers in the the network are taken offline and replaced with completely new computers in an effort to eliminate this entity.

Maybe I've been in IT too long, but this sounds to me like a recipe for disaster. I guess 3000 years in the future they'll have ironed out all the bugs in IT services, but I can't even begin to imagine the complexities and risks involved in doing such a widescale change-over. There's bound to be at least one screw up where someone bring the new computer online too soon or the removes the old one too late.

And then there's the impact to the galactic economy of having everything go down for several days and then brought up with only manual data input allowed thereafter. But we won't go into that.

I know, if you're going to read sci-fi you need to suspend disbelief--and believe me, in this book that's the least of your worries there--but it did just strike me as funny that they were so confident that this complicated, high-risk system swapout would go without any problems. Ah, the future!

Necrophiliac Sheiks!

Headline from MSNBC.com:
"Iraq sheik working with U.S. Slain"

Conjurs all sorts of images, not the least of which involves a sheik working with U.S. slain as an artistic medium. Or as part of a comedy duo: "He's a little dead, but I can work with him. He'll be my straight-man."

Anyway, it's been a bit of a crazy week. I've been on call for jury duty and trying to still get work done this week. Yesterday I was placed on standby--I went to work, then called in at 9:45 to see if they'd need me. They did, and I had to be at the courthouse by 10:30. I was part of the pool from which they selected a jury for a DUI case. I wasn't picked, and was far enough back in the line-up that I was never a serious consideration for a spot. Just as well, though it might have been an interesting experience.

The lady who was a member of MADD, didn't drink, had bad experiences with friends/family who did drink, and felt that policemen were more reliable witnesses than the average citizen was specifically requested to be dismissed. Who'd have seen that coming?

Anyway, because I was part of the original jury pool I'm excused for the rest of the week. I guess we'll try again in another three years.

Where Were You...

James Lileks is asking the question today.

I was at work. I'd just barely arrived and was settling in for the morning when I could hear the television on rather loudly in the conference room through the wall. After a few minutes it became evident that it was not some training video turned up extra loud, so I got curious. I wandered over to see what was going on.

I was not prepared for what I saw on the television. The first tower had already fallen, and the second was about to fall. We were under attack. I watched for awhile and then wandered back to my desk. I called my wife and talked to her about it for a while. A co-worker was listening to radio coverage and repeated the report that there were carbombs being set off all over Manhattan.

I called my wife. I don't recall what we said. I don't recall much about the day after that, other than an ex-marine in our company jokingly calling "Allahu Akbahr" or however it goes. I thought it in rather poor taste, but didn't bother to point it out. It didn't really matter.

That night my wife and I went out to dinner. It was our anniversary, and we were not about to drop out plans. The up-side was that we nearly had the restaurant to ourselves.

It's six years later and it's still our anniversary. I don't want to make light of what happened six years ago, but as grave as that day was, it's the event eight years ago I prefer to dwell on. Our 9-11 makes The 9-11 all that more poignant. It's the anniversary of the day when I suddenly had so much more to lose.

It's been an amazing eight years. Thank you, sweetheart!

Done...Done Done Done!

I finally finished the playhouse last night. Two coats of primer and a top coat. Meanwhile my wife has donated a tablecloth and a floral centerpiece to the endeavour, and it's starting to look quite cozy! She's debating making curtains next. Fortunately that one doesn't require me. I'm so far behind on my to-do list that I'll never catch up at this rate.

It's a long weekend again--just long enough to make you wish for more. We've got nothing particularly special planned. Just getting things done. After all, isn't that how you celebrate Labor Day? With labor?

At any rate, the week is nearly over, and that is perfectly fine by me.

The Seinfeld Post (A post about nothing)

I should post something. There's not much to talk about, but I should post. The playhouse walls have a third coat of paint now, so that project is nearly done finally. Labor Day weekend is coming up, but we're not doing anything much. Just housework, yardwork, and plant buying from the nursery Fall specials.

We bought me a new suit last weekend, which won't be ready until next week. It's the first new suit I've had in...yikes, ten to fifteen years? We first tried a department store, but not only did they not provide any service, but the suits just didn't sit right. We went somewhere else, and I'm glad we did.

We like to find small businesses that really deserve our business. We found one. Petersen's Clothing. The gentleman really bent over backwards to find me just the right suit, explaining the features, and making sure it would hide pet hair (a major concern) as well as possible. I'm getting a very nice suit that is well suited (no pun intended) to me. It looks and feels great. And I feel good about giving this guy our money. He earned it.

Autumn is in the air, but Summer is not going without a fight. We're still getting up into the 90's during the day, but down into the 40's at night now. The first tree on our street has changed color. It's coming! I'm looking forward to it. Autumn is like an old friend to me.

Tonight my wife uttered the words that should strike fear into the heart of most men: Honey, will you cut my hair?

I did. It looks...not bad! She's happy. She looks great! Life is good.

Parental Bias

It's both a blessing and a curse that parents are biased toward their children. It is difficult for us to see them objectively, to see them as others see them. We tend to focus on the behavioral problem they're exhibiting at the moment and not the unique talents they're developing. We remember the temper tantrum much longer than the impromptu hug and declaration of affection.

We're convinced that our children are the only ones who (mis)behave this way, and we're mortified that someone outside the family might see it. We react with pride mixed with disbelief when someone approaches us to tell us how wonderful our children are. We're glad they think so, but we wonder if they are really paying attention.

Instead it's probably we who are not paying attention. Or perhaps just me. Perhaps everyone gets it already and I'm the only slow one.

This morning I came upstairs to find my middle child in the hallway upstairs. From my vantage point down the hall and down a flight of stairs I was for a moment able to see him with a stranger's eyes. He is a cute little boy with a enthusiastic sparkle in his eyes. For a moment I wanted to run to him, gather him in my arms and hold him tight.

I didn't. But I probably should have. There may not be too many years left in which he'll let me.

Odd Juxtapositions

I was in a meeting at work today with someone from our infrastructure team. He related some of his experiences as a techie in the military to explain why he is so passionate about standardizing processes. Part of his job was to design network setup processes so that "during an assault if 80% of my people get killed I could still get the network up and running."

The idea of setting up computer networks under fire just struck me as odd, though in light of how today's military runs, I suppose it makes perfect sense.

Still, talk about your hardcore IT! Adds a whole new perspective on "excessive turnover."

Apocalyptic Moose

This one is just too good to pass up:

The poor old Scandinavian moose is now being blamed for climate change, with researchers in Norway claiming that a grown moose can produce 2,100 kilos of methane a year -- equivalent to the CO2 output resulting from a 13,000 kilometer car journey.

That's a lot of moose flatulence! This also makes me think twice about vacationing in Norway. Or at least about using an open flame.

Cat Behaving Badly

I realize this makes about as un-American as a person can get, but I really, really think it is time Garfield retired. The comic is simply not funny anymore. It hasn't been in years. It's so predictable that there's no need to print the last one or two frames. No really! Take today's strip for example:

Frame 1: Jon and Liz are at an aquarium (Hah! You already know where this is going, don't you!)
Frame 2: Liz comments that the rare fish in the tank before them must be hiding.
Frame 3: Take a wild guess who shows up having done what.

So predictable. So not funny. Not even the fact that Garfield wore a scuba outfit.

In fact there are only so many Garfield strips, which get repeated over and over again:
- Garfield is rude/violent toward Odie
- Garfield is rude/violent to ward Jon
- Garfield eats all of something
- Garfield is lazy
- Something slightly odd happens while Garfield watches, usually ending with Garfield killing the instigator

I did have some hope when Jon and Liz started getting serious lately. But nope, it generally the same strip, only with Jon and Liz witnessing Garfield's latest depravity.

Surely there is something better out there that deserves the spot this strip is hanging onto out of pure nostalgia (and because Garfield collectables still, inexplicably, provide lots of income).

Kill the cat! Please!

Friday And Feeling Fine

In light of my last several posts I should probably go on record as saying "I'm happy!" No, really!

Of course it probably helps that it's Friday. I was teasing people earlier this week about "Monday the 13th," insisting that THAT is the day you have to watch out for. Friday the 13th could never be a bad day because...well, because it's Friday!

But on top of that, after a bit of a rough week at work I'm starting to feel like a "really useful engine" again. It always helps when I have something tangible to show for my work, like maybe I'm really getting something done.

So what's on the agenda for the weekend? Gaming tonight with friends, The Fair tomorrow with the family, Date Night with my wife, and a moderately-relaxing Sunday. Sounds like just what the doctor ordered.

And finally:
What am I...
...reading: Nothing at the moment, but I just finished "A Beautiful Mind" by Sylvia Nassar. I can't recommend it, but don't feel it was a waste, either. While I can be sad about John Nash's mental illness and what he lost out on because of it, I had a hard time caring about him as a human being. There didn't seem to be much recommend him as a human before his illness, while he seemed much more likable after it.

...doing: Ignoring the playhouse, fighting a losing battle against squash bugs, and enjoying a greener lawn.

...wishing for: Sequencing software and a good collection of sounds--I really want to compose something.

...dreading: Writing test scripts and reverse-engineering system specifications at work.

...never getting around to: Washing the cars

...grateful for: A wife who loves me, three kids who forgive me, two cats who tolerate me, and a dog who truly appreciates attention. And a house big enough for all of us.

"Harold, I'm Not Content."

(Hat Tip: Dr. Helen) A study in Great Britain has concluded that men from 35-44 are the least happy of any age group:

Whether they are mourning the passing of their prime or struggling to cope with the demands of a job and young family, those aged 35-44 invariably hit a mid-life crisis when their happiness level plunges lower than at any other age, according to a study for the Government.

It makes them the least satisfied members of society, scoring well below teenagers, the elderly - and women of all ages.

Researchers found that it takes men until they reach the age of 65 to start enjoying life as much as they did in their late-teens and early-20s.

Well, that's...depressing. And to be honest, I can't say it's not true.

Smooth Criminal

I'm serious here when I say that I'm tired of people considering me worse than Hitler because I don't completely buy the Global Warming consensus. If this is a scientific fact, then why is it not open to healthy, scientific skepticism? Instead, I get this:

At the Live Earth concert in New Jersey last month, Robert F. Kennedy Jr. denounced climate-change skeptics as "corporate toadies" for "villainous" enemies of America and the human race. "This is treason," he shouted, "and we need to start treating them now as traitors."

Some environmentalists and commentators have suggested that global-warming "denial" be made a crime, much as Holocaust denial is in some countries. Others have proposed that climate-change dissidents be prosecuted in Nuremberg-style trials. The Weather Channel's Heidi Cullen has suggested that television meteorologists be stripped of their American Meteorological Society certification if they dare to question predictions of catastrophic global warming.

A few weeks ago, the Competitive Enterprise Institute's Marlo Lewis published an article opposing mandatory limits on carbon-dioxide emissions, arguing that Congress should not impose caps until the technology exists to produce energy that doesn't depend on carbon dioxide. In response to Lewis's reasonable piece, the president of the American Council on Renewable Energy, Michael Eckhart, issued a threat:

"Take this warning from me, Marlo. It is my intention to destroy your career as a liar. If you produce one more editorial against climate change, I will launch a campaign against your professional integrity. I will call you a liar and charlatan to the Harvard community of which you and I are members. I will call you out as a man who has been bought by Corporate America."

Oh yes, I SO want to throw in with these guys. Let's all get on our high horses and have us an old-fashioned pogrom! Dontcha know them Global Warming Denialists make a pretty good bonfire?! Hey, what should you throw a drowning Global Warming Denialist?! His wife and kids!! Oh, we're so funny!

People get on the conservatives for trying to legislate morality. I don't see how this is any difference. These people want to intimidate nature into compliance with their world view. Sorry, it doesn't work that way. In true science there is always room for skepticism.

These people above seem to forget that there was once a time when questioning religious beliefs was considered treason, a criminal act, and subject to death. Had we allowed the same reaction they're calling for we would still believe the flat earth is the center of the universe, and that anyone studying astronomy should be burned.

The more things change the more they stay the same. If you were wanting to bring me over to your way of thinking you might have considered NOT declaring war on me first. Now I'm tempted to close my mind as tightly as you have yours. What's the point of studying it out for myself? You've already decided that if I don't just blindly accept everything you say I'm worthy of death. Thank you. And in 20 - 50 years if we don't see any of the predicted signs, can I put YOU to death? Please? It's only fair!

And before you answer that, you're wonderful scientific certainty already declared that a natural consequence of global warming is an increase in the number and severity of hurricanes. That didn't happen, so suddenly you find a NEW study that says "uh, actually Global Warming will result in FEWER hurricanes."

How much more of your theory is based on such shaky science? You're willing to kill me over this, so make good and sure you really, really know what you're talking about.

Oops

It would seem that 1998 was NOT the warmest year on record after all. NASA has revised its figures:

"NASA has now silently released corrected figures, and the changes are truly astounding. The warmest year on record is now 1934. 1998 (long trumpeted by the media as record-breaking) moves to second place. 1921 takes third. In fact, 5 of the 10 warmest years on record now all occur before World War II."

It's details such as this that keep me from buying into the whole Global Warming idea. How much more of its hypothesis is based on faulty data? (According to some, most of it.)

I'd be a little more inclined to believe the GW crowd, too, if they'd be willing to admit when they don't know everything. But I've seen no mention of this story in the paper. In fact today's paper was giving dire predictions that 2009 will be hotter than 1998. Yeah, just like last year was supposed to be the worst year ever for hurricanes?

Well, let's talk again in 2010, then. If they're right I'll be willing to listen. If they're wrong--and they call themselves on it--I'll at least treat them with some respect. Which is more than they're doing for me.

UPDATE: Oh yeah, and let's make sure all our official measurements are not unduly influenced:

"Two months ago, I reported on an effort to validate this network. A volunteer group headed by meteorologist Anthony Watts had found serious problems. Not only did sites fail to meet the NCDC’s requirements, but encroaching development had put many in ridiculously unsuitable locations — on hot black asphalt, next to trash burn barrels, beside heat exhaust vents, even attached to hot chimneys and above outdoor grills.

Soon thereafter, a Seattle radio station interviewed the head of the NCDC, Dr. Thomas Peterson, informed him of the effort and quizzed him about the problems. Three days later, the NCDC removed all website access to station site locations, citing “privacy concerns.” Without this data (which had been public for years), the validation effort was blocked. No more stations could be located."


At the very least, is it okay for me to still be doubtful without being called an extremist nutjob or heavily in denial?

I Think That Was A Typo...

From an article on thinking like a marketer to get kids to eat healthy:

"Eating during meals is unhealthful for a variety of reasons."

So I guess my four-year-old had it right all along... He sure does he best not to eat during meals.

Incidentally, they were starting to talk about the effects of television and getting the television out of the kitchen, so I suspect that was not what they meant to say.

Mindless Rant

Okay, is it only me, or does anyone else look at the latest HP personal computer campaign and think "The Nightmare Before Christmas"? I swear it's the same font.

And I'm not sure how that is supposed to work with their slogan of "The PC is becoming personal again." I mean, is the new bootup sound file going to be written by Danny Elfman? Is Clippy going to be replaced by Jack Skellington? I just don't get how "creepy" equals "personal".

But what do I know? I'm just a consumer. And I did buy an HP. But only because Jared at CompUSA convinced me it was the best deal, not because Tim Burton produced their ad campaign.

Quote Of The Day

"The elitists are such boneheads they think literature exists to be admired. Wrong. Literature exists to create memories so true and important that we allow them to become part of ourselves, shaping our future actions because we remember that once someone we admired did this, and someone we hated and feared did that."
- Orson Scott Card

Maestro, some punctuation, s'il vois plait?

Subject line of recent spam: Ready to sell your Timeshare Terhi?

First of all, this is MY email account, not my wife's. Second of all, while she is a doll, she's never even seen a timeshare. Thirdly, no, I'd never sell her.

In other news now that I'm the homeowners association president I had someone call up today to complain about...me! Or at least my fence. The one I built nearly a year ago. I don't think they realized it was my fence. And they wouldn't listen long enough for my wife to explain that it was our fence they were complaining about.

Evidently my fence is an eyesore, and it sounds like she believes it's the reason why she hasn't been able to sell her house. (She's selling "by owner," which I'm sure has nothing to do with it). Never mind that another house that has a much better view of the longest span of the fence sold within days of going on the market (Hers, incidentally, can't even see our fence, unless perhaps you're standing on the roof).

My paranoia says we're likely to see a battle over this, but according to the C.C.&R.s we're covered. I did ask the previous president on at least two separate occasions. He did grant me permission both times. He saw the construction. He saw the paint color. There is no record in any of the books that he gave me that this person ever complained to him about it. I should be well and truly covered. Though of course this will all look terrible just because I'm the current president.

Anyway, it's definitely Monday. It's a good thing she also mentioned she'll be unable to attend the neighborhood block party tomorrow night. I'd hate to have her sour things for me and my family. Though with my luck she'll change her mind and come. Like Malificent at Briar Rose's birthday party.

Okay, perhaps I'm a little too paranoid.

The Cold War

The cold continues apace. No one in our household is completely over it yet. It casts a gloom over everything--even more than the thick smoke rolling in from a range fire just across the border. We are sick of being sick.

On the bright side, no bridges collapsed under me on the way home from work. Perspective is a good thing. I'm sure there are dozens of people in Minnesota would would love to just have a cold.

Unanswered Questions

I've been down with a cold. As usual, whenever I get sick I finally finish the book that's been sitting on my nightstand for months and months. This time it was "Flags of Our Fathers," by James Bradley. The book traces the lives of the six soldiers pictured in the famous "Flag Raising Over Iwo Jima" picture from WWII, of which one was the author's father.

The book provides a poignant and horrifying account of what the battle for Iwo Jima was like, but is ultimately about something else--fathers and children. His father, one of three flagraisers who survived Iwo Jima (the battle was by no means over when they posted the flag), nearly never spoke about his experiences, constantly dodged the press, and never acknowledged The Picture.

In short, there was an entire aspect of John Bradley his children never knew about. They knew he was in The Picture, but it was just something they took for granted--partly because their father didn't talk, but also because children seldom realize that anything about their lives is not normal.

In short, it summarizes the relationship I had with my father. My father was no one even remotely famous--that's not what I mean. I mean that while I knew a great deal about my father, I can't say that I really knew my father. It was not, in the case of John and James Bradley, because he didn't talk about himself. My dad was quite a talker.

I think the fault is mainly mine, because I don't think I ever viewed my dad as a normal person. I never questioned what I saw. How did he feel about working two or three jobs? Did he regret not having done something different with his life? Was he satisfied with the relationship he had with us children?

I could have found out easily enough. I'm sure he would have talked to me about it. But I never really had that kind of relationship with my dad. Not to mention it being hard to find those kinds of moments.

Part of the problem, too, was the context-gap. I didn't become a father myself until recently, and by then my dad was already going downhill. By the time I really started questioning my own life and wondering if his would offer any answers he wasn't really around to ask anymore.

Some of the questions didn't really come up until after he died. Talking to others who knew him brought up a lot of facets of my dad that I'd either forgotten or never realized were there. Sometimes what's right in front of your face is the hardest to see. When he was alive I never questioned. Now he's gone, and all I have is questions.

My mother is still alive. I still have a chance with her.

From the "Gee Whiz" File

I sat in on a presentation at work today where a colleague discussed the things he learned at a design and usability training seminar recently. It was, of course, interesting professionally, but something particular caught my eye.

At one point the speaker showed a list of all the organizations that have attended this workshop in the past year. One of the organizations listed was "LDS Church." So there you have it. Our church may be "backward" culturally, but we're "with it" when it comes to IT. Or at least getting with it. I will say that I've noticed a distinct improvement in the quality and functionality of the church's websites over the past few years.

In other news, we're gearing up to go to a family reunion soon. This is our immediate family's first attempt at such, so this could be interesting. According to weather.com it's "only" going to be in the mid-nineties where we're going. Did I already say this could be interesting?

What am I...

...reading: "The Eyre Affair" by Jasper Fforde. A quirky little alternate history tale with a bit of harsh language and occasional violations of narrative style--and the occasional dash of unexpected humor.

...doing: Still working on the playhouse and maintaining the lawn--when I get outside at all!

...planning: Family reunion next week.

...waiting on: Babylon 5, seasons 1 & 2

...still recovering from: Cracked ribs mentioned two weeks ago. I'm getting better, just slowly

...wishing for: Either rain or cooler weather...or both!

...lauging about: Subject line from spam: "Cash for Women!" Sounds like a good trade to me. Too bad I don't have any to spare.

Shine Fourth

The Fourth was a good day, if a hot one. We had our annual get-together with friends from our old neighborhood, and this was the first year that all three of our kids were able to fend for themselves. It helps immensely that our friends' kids are very good with our kids. There was plenty of food, good conversation, bearable shade, and plenty to do. The event ended with a mid-summer version of an easter-egg hunt: scouring the lawn for Airsoft pellets. My kids brought home at least a hundred--and are now proceeding to fight over them.

Afterward we went home and made some homemade ice cream. Or ice soy, really. It turned out quite well, and for considerably less than it costs in stores. Eeeeexcellent!

The kids wanted to stay up to watch fireworks. We didn't really want them to stay up that late, but decided to indulge them this once. Fortunately, between the Macy's Fireworks Spectacular (odd use of the word--like calling "CSI: Miami" a television dramatic) and our neighbors who lit theirs off early so their two-year-old could go to bed, our kids were satiated and crashed before the neighborhood bombardment began after dark.

This was our first Fourth with a dog. It could have been worse. She was quite disturbed by the noise, but was content to lay next to the bed and let us soothe here until it calmed down. I'm just glad our neighborhood is comparatively tame. Our old neigborhood was like that for several days before and after the holiday. With few exceptions it's been quiet until last night.

Only the youngest child was awake before I headed out for work this morning. All things considered I'm feeling fairly good. Except when I sneeze. My ribs still don't like that.

Cramming Cultural Cuisine

One person on my team at work lives in another city. He was in town this week, so we all went out to lunch together today. For whatever reason we ended up at an Indian restaurant. I've had Indian before, so I can't say I was surprised that it was good. More likely just surprised that I didn't learn my lesson last time not to eat so much. That's the trouble with buffets. I only tried most of the dishes, not all, but I'm still stuffed.

My ribs are still hurting, though not that much during the day. It just makes sleeping rather uncomfortable, as there are only about two positions that aren't painful. I don't really want to go see a doctor. We're still paying off my little adventure to the emergency room a couple months ago.

The weekend is nearly here. And then we get two very short workweeks next week, thanks to the Fourth of July falling in the middle of the week. So far the kids haven't asked if we can buy fireworks, but probably because no one in our subdivision has been lighting any off yet. Which is in itself amazing. The last neighborhood where we lived they'd start a couple weeks early.

I'm tired. It's been one of those weeks where, even though I've accomplished a fair deal, I still feel like I'm getting farther behind.

Two hours left to work today, and I'm struggling against the effects of a localized gravitational anomaly in the area of my eyelids.

Go Dogs Go!

Our group at work had a big meeting on Monday, followed by a "team-building" exercise at the local indoor go-cart track. The latter was not mandatory, but I decided to go anyway. And what did we learn? I'm the most cautious driver in our group. I wasn't surprised to see the various male managers blowing by me, but I was a bit surprised to find our female director was also a faster driver than me.

Not that I care. If my future with the company relies on my ability to screech a go cart around a track with as little braking as possible then I'm more than happy to move on to another company. I'm pleased that I was able to loosen up some and just go for it, however. My best lap time was 26.7 seconds, which was nearly five seconds slower than our crazed web design lead, but also ten seconds faster than my initial lap times. So I reckon for a rookie (and one who, by nature, is allergic to speed) I did okay.

Anyway, it was actually kind of fun--right up until I went to pull into pit row after the last lap. Someone coming up behind me lost control of their cart and T-boned me at full speed. Being a skinny person, there was extra side-to-side room in my seat that the seat-belt really couldn't help with. I got slammed into the side of my seat and bruised three or four ribs. My mobility is somewhat restricted, and I can only find one comfortable position to sleep in at night.

In spite of that I was able to finish the inside walls on the playhouse last night. Still, I'm looking forward to getting over my "racing injury." And I doubt I'll be going go-carting any time soon.

President For Life

My wife saw a small notice posted somewhere in our subdivision that our homeowners association was having elections today, but she didn't notice where. I couldn't find any trace of the sign, personally, but since I care about what happens in our neighborhood I decided to see if I could track it down. I found it mainly by whose cars were parked outside of whose house, and arrived ten minutes late.

I was just in time to be nominated and voted in as president. To be honest, I wasn't surprised, and was somewhat prepared for that eventuality. We have a small, vocal, but essentially chicken group of attendees at each meeting. They want someone to make sure that the CC&Rs are kept, but they don't want to be the one to have to deliver the message.

Fortunately they also nominated me a vice president who's a bit tougher-looking than I am (and drives a Harley), so I think we'll be all right. It'll largely be a thankless job, but there'll at least be ONE benefit: I don't have to ask anyone before I change anything on my property.

Mwah ha ha ha!!!!! The corruption begins!

Feelin' Snarky

My boys woke up too early again this morning, and in an effort to keep things at least mildly under control I put on some early-morning kids TV. In listening to the theme music as the singer extolled the virtues of a CGI kewpie-faced airplane I noticed repeated references to "magic" and "magical."

It seems that magic is a required element in kids programming, even if there is none. At least the only magic I noticed in the show was sparkles trailing from the airplane's wings. I guess it's easier to call it magic than have to explain condensation (or fuel leaks) to tots, but still. It's become such an overworked term that I'm getting kinda sick of it.

Like another stop-motion television series about a tank engine that will remain nameless. The place it occurs is billed as a "magical land where dreams come true." Except I've never seen any magic there, either. And your dreams only come true if they involve a bunch of talking trains that continually get into scrapes and personality conflicts.

Kids are no dummies. I'm pretty sure most kids are totally immune to "magic" these days. "Yeah dad, I know. The plane is magic. The trains are magic. This pencil is magic. Suzy's diapers are magic. Everything's magic."

Okay, perhaps the diapers are magic--the dark arts, to be sure.

"How Much Older Can I Get?"

Morgan Freeman offers some thoughts on aging gracefully and appreciating life...couched in golf terms.

Projectile Dieting

I've been putting on a little weight lately, but I'd have preferred to take it back off slowly. Instead I got stomach flu over the weekend, the same stuff my kids have been passing around for the last week. I'm still not entirely back up to snuff, as food still does not appeal at all, but at least I'm functional. And I've dropped five pounds. Uhm...yay?

Thanks But No Thanks!

It would seem that at least some people in Africa aren't so keen on foreign aid. I've taken enough college economics to see that he has a point. To quote Dr. McCoy, "Drilling holes in his head isn't the answer! The artery must be repaired!"

The Greatest Generation

Last night I got back to reading "Flags of Our Fathers," a book about the men in the famous "flag-raising on Iwo Jima" photo. I read about the battle for Tarawa, where we lost over 1000 men in three days. The American public was upset about the losses, and couldn't understand the point of sacrificing so much for a tiny little island.

It reminds me, of course, of the war we're in right now. Every single complaint applied to the War on Terror could be applied to World War II. Yet they continued the fight at a cost that makes the Iraq War look like playground fisticuffs.

I dare say that America today wouldn't have won WWII. That doesn't fill me with hope, considering that WWIII has already started.

Polar Bear Dung Destroys Planet!

One of my gripes about the Global Warming current (I'm not going to say debate, as that's no longer allowed) is that they focus entirely on greenhouse gasses causing everything. Another is that everything gets blamed on Global Warming, and hence, greenhouse gasses. The polar ice caps are melting? Blame CO2 emmissions!

Well, perhaps not. A new study indicates that dirty snow is contributing at least partly to the increasing temperatures worldwide and more significantly to warming at the poles. It's not encouraging, mind you, and it's no less a problem than whatever else is going on, but it just shows that if you oversimplify things and fail to do due scientific diligence you may end up with the mob all running in the wrong direction.

CO2 and particulate pollution are connected, I'm sure, but the differences could make quite a bit of difference.

Increased solar output, and now particulate pollution. Isn't it time we opened our minds again on Global Warming? Do we really know what we think we know?

Smattering of Elemental Strategy

(Why yes, I DO love the word "smattering." Why do you ask?)

Overheard:
Emma (to the cat): You are so sweet, Jynx!
Walter: I'm not Jynx!

Middle-East:
Michael Totten has a guest columnist on why we should worry about Iran.
Michael Yon rides with the Queen's Royal Lancers.
Michael Yon writes about the courage and intelligence of one of our commanders in Iraq.

What I'm Reading:
I just finished reading "The Psi Corps Trilogy" by J. Gregory Keyes, from an outline by J. Michael Straczynski. The series covers the early origins of the Psi Corps and details the rise of our favorite psi cop, Alfred Bester, from childhood to head of the Corps. The series is ultimately about Bester--the history is just to set the stage, really. This causes the book to be a bit choppy at times, and it skips over events you really wish it would have detailed.

For example, if you're hoping to find out the gory details of Lyta Alexander's bloody revenge on the Psi Corps, prepare to be disappointed. It's alluded to, but entirely skipped over.

Instead, what we have is a classic Straczynski B5 tale: It's all about choices. The book takes one of the most vile human beings and reminds you that he was just that--a human being. You find yourself almost cheering for Bester, even while he's giving you the creeps. You find yourself hoping that he can find redemption and happiness. What we get is a book that, while not exactly satisfying, fits very nicely within the B5 universe and the Straczynksi morality.

I'm glad I read it, even though I wish I hadn't needed to read the whole thing. But you do, and it's worth it.

Audio Book:
"Pattern Recognition" by William Gibson. I've already read this before, but it's a good story well told. It can be as haunting as the "footage" the story revolves around. It details the story of a free-lance "cool" hunter as she undertakes an international search for the creator of the mysterious but provacative "footage," short video segments that pop up on the internet from time to time and has gathered a devoted following.

The annoying beauty of this book, I think, is that not everything is there for a reason. While some things in the book are interconnected in a nearly impossible--yet somehow believable--manner, other things are just...there. There are loose edges, and the ending seems a bit too elysian, but there's something there that won't let you go until it's done.

Gibson has a gift for descriptive detail--not quite poetic like Ray Bradbury, but evocative and multi-leveled. I should probably buy this book someday so I can study the language. I could learn from Gibson.

Notable Quote:
"I suspect I have spent just about exactly as much time actually writing as the average person my age has spent watching television, and that, as much as anything, may be the real secret here" - William Gibson

Idiots Guide to Prophecy

I'm the GM for a D&D group I play with (which makes me a DM, not a GM, I know. So sue me. The game takes place above ground most of the time, so if you want to get technical, I'm really a Surface Master. So there!). As such, I've been developing a game world for the group to play in. In an attempt to round things out a bit more I've been developing some prophecies.

That's not easy task, really. Even without the decision to make each poetic in nature (and in different styles to denote different prophets) it's difficult to get the right balance of vagueness and near-universal applicability without making them meaningless altogether. There has to be enough there that the characters can actually believe they may be part of prophecy--and that the prophecy is helpful to choosing their actions--while leaving room to wiggle if they're really not.

After writing around ten of these I have to say I'm feeling an intense desire to write up one "anti-prophecy" just for fun. Something like:

"Lo, and Drea, Alcoraxis, Fevera, and Wedlin (but not Gaubin, who shall be dead by then) shall go forth to the town of Silverling. There they shall find a grumpy bartender, a genial serving girl, and a mysterious man in the corner, who, though claiming to be able to help them, shall pick their pockets and render no real information. The serving girl, however, if treated kindly and tipped well, will provide information about the location of the Talisman of Ascerotin which they seek, having been told once years ago by her father, god rest is his soul. They should avoid the stables, as a most unpleasant encounter involving a goat, three roosters, and lots of lice awaits them."

That would be fun, especially to see the reaction of the players upon receiving such specific information (especially Gaubin's player). They'd doubtlessly not trust it, and before long be begging for a more "traditional" prophecy. Especially after the lice.

Der Burgermeister

Several years ago I mounted a Mission Impossible-style infiltration of Burger King to steal the secret recipe for their veggie burgers (they've since changed suppliers, and the quality has dropped). It required great skill and a fair amount of luck, but I was able to walk away with their free nutritional information pamphlet which, thanks to the USDA, contains a list of ingredients.

What I didn't get is proportions, of course, so I've spent the last several years working on the recipe. Since each batch makes enough to keep us well stocked for about six months, it's taking awhile. To be honest, I don't know if my recipe even comes close to theirs now. I know the consistency is different. But it tastes pretty good.

Anyway, Memorial Day has become one of the two "Burger Days" when I whip up a batch of burgers. It takes me about 4 hours, but we wind up with about 14 meals worth. So yesterday I spent the afternoon in the kitchen chopping veggies, adding filler and "glue", and then cooking them up. The batch was proclaimed the best yet by my independent, impartial taste-tester (my wife), and since all the kids ate theirs as well I'm inclined to agree.

Last night I decided it was time to take my rather cryptic working notes and type them up into something a bit more workable. If anyone cares to give it a try, let me know. I'll gladly send you the recipe. Unfortunately I've never tried to make fewer than 40 patties, so it doesn't scale well to "let's try it for dinner some time."

Perhaps now I might try making soy cheese. Just kidding.

Russian Thuggery

I know, this is not the sort of stuff I usually get excited about, but this is different. I've been there. I know people there. They warned me several years ago that Russia would love nothing better than to get Estonia back.

So when the Estonians move a Soviet monument, they find themselves under widespread internet attack from Russia (via the Washington Post). Abnormally coordinated hackers? Russian Mafia? Russian Intelligence running field tests for cyberspace warfare? Does it really matter who? The fact is that someone can.

"These attacks were massive, well targeted and well organized," Jaak Aaviksoo, Estonia's minister of defense, said in an interview. They can't be viewed, he said, "as the spontaneous response of public discontent worldwide with the actions of the Estonian authorities" concerning the memorial. "Rather, we have to speak of organized attacks on basic modern infrastructures."

This next little bit is telling, not just for just how seriously this is being taken, but by whom:

The NATO alliance and the European Unionhave rushed information technology specialists to Estonia to observe and assist during the attacks, which have disrupted government e-mail and led financial institutions to shut down online banking.

I think we can expect to see more of this in years to come, and not just from Russia. And why don't I find the Russian response reassuring:

A Russian official who the Estonians say took part in the attacks said in an interview Friday that the assertion was groundless. "We know about the allegations, of course, and we checked our IP addresses," said Andrei Sosov, who works at the agency that handles information technology for the Russian government. His IP address was identified by the Estonians as having participated, according to documents obtained by The Washington Post.

"Our names and contact numbers are open resources. I am just saying that professional hackers could easily have used our IP addresses to spoil relations between Estonia and Russia."

Whether he's lying or telling the truth, the implications are still scary.

"The nature of the latest attacks is very different," said Linnar Viik, a government IT consultant, "and it's no longer a bunch of zombie computers, but things you can't buy from the black market," he said. "This is something that will be very deeply analyzed, because it's a new level of risk. In the 21st century, the understanding of a state is no longer only its territory and its airspace, but it's also its electronic infrastructure."

Or, to quote one of my all-time favorite movie characters, "I've got a bad feeling about this."

Pauper of the Bride

Last week for our date night my wife and I watched "Father of the Bride". I think we estimated that the wedding in the movie cost at least $100,000. I figured that was an exaggeration (remember, this was 15 years ago).

But then I saw this article online. It claims the average wedding in the US costs about $27,000. The average. In the US we spend more on weddings than the GNP of Lithuania. I understand, however, that Japanese weddings leave us in the dust.

I've got about 13 years to save up. Perhaps I should offer my daughter $10k to elope.

Litterature

Iowahawk has envisioned what a James Lileks news story might look like in this amusing parody.

He also channels a few other more famous writers to fill out the other beats. Not suitable for the below PG-13 crowd.

Progress and Appreciation

The playhouse is finished. At least the structural part. I need to give all the exposed wood a shot of primer, at the very least. But the verdict is in. My four year old declared it (or at least the porch railing I added on Saturday) "Outstanding!"

I wish for just a moment I could see the whole thing through his eyes instead of my own, which only see all the parts I goofed up on. It's so easy to forget to see things not in terms of mistakes but in possibilities. After all, growing up we had a lean-to shack cobbled onto the side of the house that was crammed full of old stuff and cobwebs. You could barely even get the door open. But it was the absolute coolest place!

Responsibility kills the inner child, I think. Or at least sends it to its room. It's hard to enjoy a playhouse when you're the one who had to build the playhouse. It's hard to live in the moment when you're expected to always be thinking several moments ahead. To quote Barry Manilow, "Oh, for the fun of them when I was one of them."

Instead I get stuck thinking of preparing bedtime snacks and getting kids ready for church rather than giving myself over to a good laugh with my wife over a linguistic near-miss.

Speaking of my wife, I'll extend Mother's Day just a bit and mention just how much I appreciate her. She is completely committed to giving the best to her kids (which far too often includes me). She's an amazing woman who approaches everything with a style and grace of a Golden Age starlet. She's my Grace Kelly, Katherine Hepburn, Ingrid Bergman, and Donna Reed, all rolled into one--dresses like them, too!

One of the advantages of being a husband is that you tend to catch glimpses of your wife's "press." It sufficeth to say that the general consensus is that I married well. I wish I could say the same about her. To quote Alan Jackson, "Be patient...I'm a work in progress."

What a Gas!

'Tis Spring! A time when gas prices climb and people start circulating the "National Gas-Out" email. Yes, let's all stick it to the big oil companies by buying our gas on Wednesday instead of on Tuesday. If ever there was a sign that the American Education System is failing, it's this lovely email. There are so many holes in it I don't even know where to start.

Fortunately, I don't have to. Someone who gets paid to write did it for me. Read all the way to the end for some ideas that really WILL impact our oil demand, and hence gas prices.

The one thing that cracks me up about the email is the line about how in 1997 they did this and it worked. That was ten years ago. Are you telling me, if this is so effective, we can't find any more current data? That's as good as saying "Hey, I drank water from the other side of a glass and it cured my hiccups....once....ten years ago." Anecdotal evidence is not evidence. And doing the same thing over and expecting different results is one definition of insanity. If it hasn't worked in ten years, perhaps--just perhaps--it was a coincidence?

Except, according the writer's research, it didn't even work then.

Building Frustration

I'm getting really tired of building this playhouse. I spent most of the day yesterday building a dutch door and to shutters, none of which look very good, in my opinion. The good news is that the kids don't care how it looks. The dutch door is a hit.

As it stands, though, this thing is going to eat up my free time for at least another week. Meanwhile the list of other projects that need doing continues to pile up. I just took vacation, but I need more.

More Microsoft Wit/Wisdom

I found another, not so funny ad from Microsoft today. This one was on repelling alien invasions. The only one that stood out this time was: When the aliens land, tell them the squirrels are in charge and that we humans are their slaves. While they start trying to negotiate with the squirrels, run like heck.

Little does Microsoft know how close they come to the truth.

Dude On A Hot Asphalt Roof

I have a new respect for roofers. On Saturday I tried shingling the roof on the playhouse. It was only in the 70's or so, but the roof quickly became unbearable. If I left my leg in one spot too long it would start to burn. Then I realized the asphalt itself was starting to melt, an that if I didn't tread carefully I'd scuff up the shingles.

So I moved to the other side, hoping the different angle to the sun would help. It did. I was able to get most of that side done before it again became too hot to stay up there. Now I need to wait for a cool evening or next weekend before I can finish that particular job.

On the other hand, I must say the roof is looking quite nice--what I've got finished. It really add to the look of the playhouse. As long as you don't look at the window that isn't quite parallel with the roofline you'd almost think it was professionally done. And if you stand back to where you don't notice the other little goofs. And squint your eyes a bit. And don't look at any other straight lines nearby.

The show I was in is over now. I'm glad, as it was taking up a lot of time, but I am glad I did it, too. It was fun to get up on stage again. And hanging out in the wings waiting to go on. And hanging with the rest of the cast in the green room. Good times.

I really, really need a haircut now.

Our Hearts We Cannot Steel

I'm currently on vacation working on a playhouse (I may have mentioned this). Today I was working out back putting up roof trusses when I heard gunshots. At first I was puzzled--gunshots? Here? Not in our sleepy little metropolis. Then I heard the bugle.

You see, we live about half a block from a cemetary. I'd never heard it before today--perhaps the wind direction helped carry it our way or something--but they were holding a graveside service with military honors. I usually get choked up pretty easily over "Taps", but suddenly I was reliving my father's graveside service in January. There I was, on top of a ladder with a drill in one hand, crying.

I don't know where I get the idea that I'm somehow different from other people. When people tell me it takes time to get over losing a loved one they're right. It doesn't matter that we were expecting it, that it was a merciful passing, that we had our chance to say goodbye first. There's a hole there, and it's going to be there awhile. Perhaps it's not overtly impacting my life every day, but it's still there.

I think the hardest thing to come to terms with was that I never did say goodbye. Not the way I had wanted to, anyway. The last time we visited I said it to his face, but while I said the words, there was a lot behind them that didn't get said. I started a letter to him several times and never finished it.

And his last night, after the family had a prayer around his bed, Mom even requested that we take some time to say goodbye. I didn't. It was too easy not to. There were family around I hadn't seen in some time. There was Mom to worry about. There was my sister and her little boy to help out with. There were plenty of excuses. I just didn't get around to it. I was scared. Of what, I'm not sure.

I wish I had. I guess I should take some comfort in knowing that I said much of what I would have said during the blessing we gave him the night before he died. I should take comfort in knowing that I'll have a chance to tell him again someday. But the comfort isn't there.

So now I can only add my voice to all those who I used to ignore: Never leave things unsaid. If you have your chance to say goodbye, take it.

One Advantage of Women's Lib

I've observed an interesting phenomenon (doot-dooooo-dah-doo-doo) these past few days. You see, I'm not exactly a big, burly, manly-man type. I'm 5'7" and 130 lbs, and while I don't consider myself a wimp, I'm not tough. I'm fine with that.

So when I go to Home Depot and wrestle 4'x8' sheet lumber I have to take my time and use the laws of physics rather than the law of the jungle. I can get it done. It just takes me longer.

Anyway, I've made three trips to Home Depot in the last four days. Each time the only workers to offer me help are women. Never the men. I don't know what it is. Is it an unwritten rule in the Brotherhood of Brothers that we never embarass each other by offering help? Is it just that women are more apt to realize that sheet lumber is heavy and therefore assume someone would want help? Is it just that women are more observant about what is going on around them? I don't have the answer, but it would be interesting to know.

I mentioned this to one of the women who stopped to help me today, and she apologized profusely (it was not my intention to see someone fall on their sword over it). And she rounded up a guy to help me while I was on the way to the checkstand so I could get help loading it all in the van. Yeah, I could have done it myself. But I was in a hurry to get the van back before Terhi needed it. So it was well appreciated.

Standard Disclaimer: I have no problem with women working at Home Depot. I have no problem with women lifting heavy objects for me or helping me lift them. I'm pretty sure if they're working at Home Depot they know what they're getting in for. They're either just fine with the lifting or they'll get someone bigger to do it. And if I need help, I'll accept whatever help is offered.

Allow Me To Demonstrate

Our company sponsored two classes yesterday; one on CPR, and another on First Aid. I signed up for both. The CPR class was kind of fun, really. Serious stuff, but good to know. The afternoon class on first aid, however, was an adventure.

The teacher was a paramedic, and so he had lots of "example" pictures. I started feeling a little sick, so I put my head down on my knees, hoping it would pass. It didn't. I passed out. I came to with paramedics surrounding me. I become coherent quickly enough, but I still felt lousy. When I didn't bounce back as fast as I should have, and when I told them about my heart condition, they decided I needed a trip to the E.R.

I spent the next three hours in the hospital. Three tries to put in an IV, a series of bloodtests (they're always ordering a CBC on "ER"--I still don't know what it is, but I got one!), an EKG, two x-rays, an IV of saline, and oxygen therapy later they decided that the class pictures had triggered a vasovagal episode, compounded by mild dehydration, otherwise known as "I got squeamish and passed out." On the other hand, they ruled out complications from my heart condition, which I guess is good to know.

I'm still a bit weak and frail today. I was describing what happened to someone this morning and started getting dizzy again. I guess I've really got to watch it for awhile. The good news? If you stop breathing for any reason--I'm your man!

I really, really hope this ends our run of bad luck for awhile.

Tips for the Ninja-besieged Enterprise

I ran across a Microsoft add in a trade magazine today that made me giggle. Yes, I' m a geek, as ninjas make me giggle. Especially the thought of them besieging my enterprise. Some sample tips:

Avoid Ninjas in the first place
Ask yourself--why have Ninjas chosen your company? Did you do something to offend a powerful warlord? Is a competitor particularly nasty? Who would send Ninjas after you? Answer this question and you'll be ready for next time.

Use your whiteboard as a shield
Ninjas love throwing stars, known as shuriken. They are sharp, and pointy, and when thrown they stick in deep and hurt a lot. Grab the nearest whiteboard and use it as a shield when the shuriken throwing begins. Yes, it'll ruin the whiteboard, but you can explain later.

Use your phone (to call for help)
Ninjas are tought--deadly actually--and no one will judge if, at a point when all hope seems lost, you call for help. Calling in reinforcements from branch offices, even the warehouse crew, can make the difference when Ninjas attack.

Use office plants as weapons
Those dusty-looking palms around your office may look harmless, but you can wield them as formidable weapons. The fronds can be used as pokers; aim for the Ninja's sensitive spots. Cacti are particularly useful for the Ninja-besieged enterprise. Throw them, pot and all, like grenades.


In other news, at least three people have stopped to comment on my computer desktop today. It shows the painting my sister did of our uncle's ranch, and it's drawing lots of positive comments. Congrats, sis! You're getting noticed!

Putting the "Civil" in Civilization

Don Imus is getting what he deserves (fired for racial slurs uttered on the air). Let me be clear about that. What saddens me about this case is that it's so isolated. There should be plenty of others tossed out along with him. We are no longer a civil people. We call each other the most horrible things and call it free speech. Or comedy. Or entertainment.

I've no doubt in my mind that had he said those things about a team of white women no one would have batted an eye. I have no doubt that if those things had been said by someone on Saturday Night Live no one would have cared.

We shouldn't have people saying things like that about anyone! We shouldn't need censorship because people should be watching their own mouths. We've become a nation of potty-mouths, and we have entire career fields stumbling over one another in a headlong race into the gutter.

We should have a culture where people are well and truly shocked by such language. But in reality, the only result I see from this is all the other shock jocks deconstructing the incident: "Where did he go too far? Was it adding in 'ho?' Can I call someone a 'nappy-headed weasel' and get away with it? How about a 'nazi-headed ho?'" How long, do you think, before we have SNL comedy sketches where men dressed up as old, white biddies sit around and call each other 'nappy-headed hos'? (In a way, I hope they do, though I doubt it would have the effect is should.)

If it were up to Thumper's mother, America would be known as The Silent Nation.

I can't say that I'd mind that.

What They Don't Tell You

It's big news to tout Bush's low poll numbers. They usually leave out the fact that congress polls even lower. Even with the change in majority they're still only slightly improved over-all. Could it be that we're just sick to death of politics?

Treading The Boards

It's been a long time since I was in anything theatrical. Getting close to ten years, now that I think of it. That's changing, and I must admit it feels good. Our church is organized such that the local congregation is called a "ward," and a grouping of wards is called a "stake." The stake we're in now is big enough (thirteen wards--nearly twice that of most stakes) to take on some fairly ambitious cultural activities.

One of their traditions is to do a musical revue every year. Last year was "The Best of Disney." This year is "The Best of Broadway." I wasn't going to be involved, but someone in the ward choir I direct got an idea to do a scene from a musical he just discovered and invited me to join (it requires men, and lots of them). It actually fit my schedule without too much adjustment, so I agreed. We had our first rehearsal yesterday.

The musical is called "For the Glory," and is built around various perspectives on the American Civil War. Our scene is about both sides as they prepare for the first Battle of Bull Run, one of the first battles in the war. It's fairly powerful music--and pretty dang high--and I'm going to thoroughly enjoy it. I'd love to do theater again, but to everything there is a season. I don't think I can stay away forever.

Meet Thy Doom!

Over breakfast this morning my three-year-old son looked up at me and intoned menacingly "I am Dooooom!" Evidently my doom is a little brown-haired boy with green eyes and a goofy grin. Strange. I always thought it would be puppies.

It turns out he was just misquoting a Charlie Brown special. ("I'm doomed!")

We got the lawnmower back from repairs last night. The verdict: Water in the gas tank--and the oil pan. The mechanic was puzzled. I was not. My Doom has a toy lawnmower, and he has a bottle of water he uses for his gas. He was helping daddy. It's hard to be upset about it--in fact I won't even try. He's a good kid, and he was pretty worried about the lawnmower when it broke. He wanted to follow the repairman to see where he was taking it.

Speaking of the repairman, I highly recommend "Timberwolf Small Engine Repair" for all your small engine repair or service needs. He's honest--he could have told me it was ANYTHING and I'd have believed him, but instead he solved my problem for the cost of a servicing. He's thorough--he even cleaned the thing up so it looks brand new. And he picks up and delivers for free! Granted, there's probably only one regular reader of this blog that is likely to care, but still.

The List Continues

We're having a bit of a bad run of luck lately, it seems:
- The computer died, had to buy a new computer
- Windows Vista doesn't support Outlook from Office '97. Had to buy Office 2007 to get our email back (on the bright side, my current employer is a Microsoft Partner, so it only cost me $20, as long as I stay employed there)
- Major windstorm pounds city for three days. Our deck swing is tattered, and we lost shingles in three places (would have lost more if I hadn't climbed up on the roof with landscaping blocks to hold the rest down)
- All three kids get colds, two of them getting ear infections
- Lawnmower ran for two minutes, then died, never to start again
- Our whiteboard calendar suddenly crashed to the floor tonight (granted this is minor, and possibly a good sign that the trend is losing steam?), breaking the frame in three places

I can't wait to see what this week brings!

Incidentally, though I haven't had a chance to really use it yet (other than Outlook), Office 2007 sports a totally new interface paradigm, and I think I may really like it.

Still Alive...Old...Friend!

Life's been crazy lately, but I'm still alive. Not the least of my worries has been the death of our computer. The power supply went out, and being both proprietary and out of production it would have been expensive to fix. Adding in the potential for additional damage beyond the power supply and the fact that the computer was old and slow, it just became easier to justify getting a new one.

Which we've done, and are still putting together. For now I've got the basics reinstalled, and then I'll see what we actually need before I install anything else. Retrieving all our old files was tricky enough. The hard drive from the old computer wouldn't come out of the case--at least not with the tools I have--so I had to use a power and IDE cable from the new computer to cross-patch the old hard drive into the new machine. The setup resembled two cars giving a jump-start with too-short jumper cables.

Then I had to call in a professional to figure out how to keep the new computer from trying to boot up with the old hard drive. Thank goodness for professionals--you know, those friends you have that you never call unless you have computer problems, and yet they still consider you friends. In my case it's St. Darryl of ASAssi.

Anyway, the up-side is we now have a flatscreen monitor. And a free printer which I've yet to install. :-P The downside is that I've got about $300 in rebates to file for, and the list of requirements reads like a Hogwarts potions recipe. I was out in the garage last night cutting UPC's off the old boxes--which I'm glad I kept. Today I have to make photo copies of the sales receipt, which of course is too long for the copier, so I have to use the reducing option to make it all fit.

Of course they want to make it difficult for you. And of course they want to take as long as they can getting your money back to you (they say 8-10 weeks--even the US Gov't doesn't take that long!). I understand the business reasons. But it's still a pain in the butt.

In other news, my mother in law is here for a couple of weeks. And my mother is in the hospital.

Confessional

I'm one of those nuts who still doubts all the claims around global warming. And yes, I base much of this off of Michael Crichton's book "State of Fear." And under the relentless assault of media I've been slowly been coming to doubt what I remembered reading. Not that I am willing to take the plunge and become a true Believer in Global Warming, either.

Let me just step aside for a moment and go on the record saying I'm all for sensible measures for minimizing our impact on nature. Nature is complicated enough without our adding to its volatility. So I'm for pollution controls, recycling, reducing waste and reliance on oil, etc. So long as it's done fairly and sensibly.

Now then, back to the science. Orson Scott Card published an essay citing evidence that the "Hockey Stick Report" that much of the Global Warming crowd accepts as the basic tenet of their faith is actually faulty, if not fraudulent. He cites some references, but unfortunately they're from books that will cost you money.

On the other hand, I have found a few articles lately that, if not disproving CO2 as the primary cause of global warming, at least cast doubt on it being the only cause. It seems Mars is experiencing global warming, too. And all our Mars explorers are solar powered, so you can't blame that one on us:

An article on MSNBC Online, which references an article in
National Geographic, as well as another related article on
Livescience.com.

Add to that the fact that a few scientists are coming forward to challenge Al Gore's claims (though most say he exaggerates, not is outright wrong) , and I'm feeling a little more confident in saying "Wait a second, are we getting ahead of ourselves a little here? Do we really know what's going on, or are we guessing, or worse, twisting data to suit our own ideals? Is it really as bad as all that, or are we just trying to scare people into doing something that, while not necessarily bad, may not be for pure motives?"

So yeah, let's see if we can't do some real science first and make sure we know what we're talking about before we all jump on the bandwagon, eh?

Smart As An Eight-Year-Old

The New York Times has an article about an eight-year-old genius and the math quiz he took to identify him as such. I got them all right, though the 5th question took me awhile to wrap my brain around it.

Actually, it's not clear if I got them all right. Question 6 he identifies as not being possible, which I didn't catch.

Still, I did much better than I anticipated. And I did it while recovering from a migraine. Try THAT, genius boy!

Lileksian Juxtaposition

I was reminded yet again why I read James Lileks' blog. He has a gift for jarring, anti-contextual, yet completely sensible extrapolations. In today's entry he was describing being outside at 10 pm shoveling snow when some pedestrians walk by and say hello:

...and then the guy said "hey, you're James Lileks." That's always nice to hear from strangers, unless of course they're assassins. Turned out they weren't.

First smile I cracked in far too long.

Stomach Bug Redux

Wednesday night I was feeling a little achy. Thursday morning I was feeling a little uneasy in the stomach, but not bad enough to stay home from work. By the time I was halfway down the street from our house, though, the stomach cramps hit. I wisely turned around and went home. Two hours later I was locked in the throes of major stomach flu.

I'm feeling mostly better today, though my stomach still yells "Whoa! Whoa! Careful there!" anytime I even think of grabbing some food. Cream of Wheat, a bagel, and a banana are about all I've managed to eat today.

I had this same stuff, only milder, a couple weeks ago. I really, really hope this is the last time for awhile. A looooong while. More importantly, I hope no one else in my family gets it. Again. We just barely got the couch cleaned from the last go-round.

More About Money

Well, it looks like the accidental bonus incident will be resolved peacefully. At least I'm hopeful. The HR people didn't seem terribly alarmed. So we'll see. For now the money is still sitting in my account.

My financial advisor has been trying to contact me, though between bad timing and lack of effort we still haven't connected. In an attempt to guess what he might be calling about I checked my investments. One stock that dropped about 50% after we got into it has collapsed even further. The collapse has not been quick, either.

This advisor has not been particularly great at communication. The last time I spoke to him he promised he'd call me soon to get together and review our plan. That was eleven months ago. I like the guy and all, but I think I could do better myself. It may be time to part company.

I Might Have Known

It was specifically called a retention bonus, so as best I can figure I just need to keep working here and keep being...me! Well okay, then!

Evidently that's not true. I need to keep working there and keep being...my brother! He's the one who signed a contract to stay with the company, but they got confused and gave me his money.

Interesting in hindsight that, in spite of having worked with the HR department for over a year, this being an outright error never occurred to me. I was much more willing to believe coporate cluelessness was cause.

Well, since I'm obviously a believer in corporate cluelessness, I'm having a hard time believing this is going to go well for me. Perhaps its time to polish up the resume again.

Gee, Thanks!

My company has given me a fairly impressive retention bonus. Can I just take the money and move on? No, of course not! I must overanalyze!

From what I can tell, this is NOT a general bonus. I've yet to talk to anyone else who's received it. My boss had no idea what I was talking about. I didn't know I was getting it until last week, and I didn't know how much until I got it.

Armed with that little bit of information I can't help but wonder what my company is hoping to accomplish. If it's not a general bonus across the board to everyone that's still with the company then it's not intended to be a "Hey, we made it! Hooray for us!" morale raiser. It's to specific people. But no one took me aside a year ago and told me "Hey, stick with us through the coming changes and there'll be something extra in it for you", so it can't have been an incentive to minimize turnover or retain targeted people.

So someone just dumped a sizable reward in my lap, but danged if I can figure out what I did to deserve it, or why others didn't. So how am I suppose to know what behavior they want continued? It was specifically called a retention bonus, so as best I can figure I just need to keep working here and keep being...me! Well okay, then!

Not to say I'm not very pleased and grateful. I am. It's just...well, I'm an analyst. It's what I do.

You Vomitous Mass

Tomato soup and stomach flu makes for interesting carpet stains. Let's just say our upstairs hallways looks like a crime scene.

I'm dubbing this the "Oh Yeah?!" Flu. You spend a day or two with it, then you think you're feeling better. To which it promptly responds "Oh yeah?!" and slaps you down again. Emma and I are on our second round, Walter's on his third round, at least, and Richard...well, he may have had one round. It's hard to know with him.

So far the only lucky one is Terhi. I'm not sure how she's managed to avoid this stuff, but I hope she continues to avoid it. If she goes down the whole place collapses.

On the up-side, I was able to finish a book I've been reading in fits and starts for about six months. "1776" by David McCullough is a good book if you're into history. It's only problem is that it's mis-titled. It should be titled "1775-1783"--not because the book covers that entire period, but because I wish it did. McCullough is a thorough historian who really gets into the personalities of the key characters. The only fault I can really find with the book is the lack of good maps. I'm a map/visual type of person, and while there were maps, I think they were period maps, and they were very hard to read.

I appreciate the way McCullough doesn't try to make up your mind for you. He presents facts and opinions, but leaves it up to you. He points out several events during that year that were considered "divine providence" at the time, but doesn't seem to take a stand either way himself. The book is certainly about George Washington, and there you can tell what McCullough believes, but he doesn't gloss over his bad points and mistakes, either. In fact, "1776" seems to be [i]about[/i] Washington's mistakes.

At any rate, I find myself wanting to know what happened next. I mean of course I know, but not really. A lot happened between the battles of Trenton and Yorktown. I'd like to fill in my knowledge a little. If anyone knows of a good book or two, feel free to let me know.

In the meanwhile, I'm listening to "Sea of Glory," by Nathaniel Philbrick, about the United States Exploration Expedition of 1836, which is fascinating so far. I was also given as a birthday present the book "Flags of our Fathers," by James Bradley, which traces the lives of the six soldiers in the famous picture of raising the flag on Iwo Jima (recently made into a film by Clint Eastwood). It looks like it will be quite good, too.

So I've got my work cut out for me for awhile.

Well, We're Still Here

A good pity-party, some more sleep, and a few good, long talks later, and the world is looking better. Thanks to a good friend who provided a sufficiently non-judgemental ear at the right time, I think we're back on track. And I watched "Groundhog Day" over the weekend. That is still very much a fun film.

The weather is flirting with Spring. I know it's just setting us up.

Groundhog Day!

It's Groundhog Day...again...

I have no idea what the groundhog did or didn't see, but I know I would very much like to go back to bed for six more weeks. If I had to find a name to put on what I'm feeling right now I'd say it's Depression.

And the movie Groundhog Day sums it up perfectly: "What would you do if you were stuck in one place and every day was exactly the same, and nothing that you did mattered?"

That about sums it up for me.

Nobody's Fool

Yesterday my daughter kept going on about this "baby egg" she got from a friend of hers at school. It appeared to me to be nothing more than a very small, green bead. But she insisted it was a baby egg, and that they start out very small and green, but then get bigger and whiter as they grow until they become a full sized egg. Her friend had told her this, and she seemed to believe it.

I was not sure how to handle it. Should I try and shatter her illusion now, or wait until she got concerned because it wasn't growing? I finally settled for saying something like "It probably won't grow unless it stays inside the chicken."

She suddenly got all serious. "Dad, can I tell you a secret? It's not really an egg. My friend and I found it on the playground and she thought it would be fun to pretend."

So there you go. My daughter is smart AND an actress.

Glad They Are There

This weekend I had a close encounter with a profession that no one ever wants to deal with, but when you have to, you're glad they're there: funeral directors.

I don't know if they're all this way, but these gentlemen were fantastic. They were dignified, respectful, and very careful of everything the did and said. At no time did I detect even a hint of insincerity.

Yes, you're putting your departed loved one in these gentlemen's hands, but even moreso you are putting your family in their hands. They recognize that they're not really in the burial business, but rather in the peace business. It's an amazingly noble calling to be willing to wade into the midst of grief and loss and help everyone involved begin their healing process. I could never do it. I don't care enough about other people. And I'd never be able to keep my mouth in check.

I'm also reminded of just how wonderful a family I have. Everyone has stepped up and come together. I won't say "effortlessly" because I'm sure beneath the surface each of us is dealing with emotions and thoughts we'd never want others to see. But each of us, in our own way, is doing what we can. It's not surprising, really. Just comforting, like reaching for the bedroom doorknob in the dark only to find it precisely where you expected it to be.

My father died this weekend, perhaps even while I was in the room. This is one of those significant life events that is held up in literature and movies as a defining moment, a transcendant moment, a grand Truth of life.

How do I feel? I feel nothing--certainly nothing defining, transcendant, or Truth-ful. Is it because I am incapable of feeling? Am I just not connected enough to reality? Is this something simply too immense and powerful to even register without overloading? Or do I on some visceral level simply understand that everything is exactly as it should be?

I can't answer that. Perhaps I never will. Perhaps there is no need.

The Empire Evades Direct Questions

***Spoiler Alert (If you don't know what about, then you're not a regular reader. Try Metamucil)***

Well, it appears my "wait and see" approach to Professor Advisor Vice President President Avril Torrent was the right one to take, since the book never answers the question. It also never answers the question of who killed the president--the first of three, anyway.

In short, it's an "un-book" in that there is no climax. There is no point at which we know if the protagonists are going to win or lose. Not really. Everyone works their butts off for the entire book to save the country only to...not know if they did or not.

It's a lot like life, but it stinks in a novel.

Unless there's a sequel coming.

Is it just me, or did the scene between Avril Torrent and Aldo Vieras (forgive me if I do not spell correctly--I listened to the audio book) stick out like a sore thumb? ONE scene in the entire book where we see Torrent without a protagonist around. The guy only appears in just a few scenes as is. What was the point? What did it really prove? How did it advance the story in any way? One bad guy thinks another guy is a bad guy. So what? Why should we care what his opinion is?

We don't get to see inside Torrent's mind--not really--so no damage done, really. But it just didn't fit the pattern. It's as if DeeNee Breen or Pres. Nielsen suddenly got a scene to themselves.

Of course it could just be me.

Anyway, good book, though he's preaching to the choir. While waiting for the oratorio he had already convinced me with a song.

Is This What We've Becoming?

An interesting "first impressions" from an American Idol newbie.

I've seen a little bit of the show, and I think it's spot on.

Involvement Meter

***"Empire" Spoiler Alert***

It's a sure sign of...something...when I find myself talking to a book. Such is the case with "Empire." These people who have been staying alive from sheer paranoia are suddenly not asking questions anymore, even after one of their own gets taken down by refusing to accept the possibility of someone not being trustworthy. They should be questioning everything they hear from everyone. I keep telling them this, and they do not listen.

When I left off one character was finally starting to ask some questions, and it's about time. It's as if everyone just suddenly forgot that the guy who got killed was getting orders from someone in the White House, and that person is still out there.

I'm going to have to hold off on the "Whose side is Professor Advisor Vice-President Torrent on" question. It's obvious he's on his own side. And while what clues we have all point to his wanting to become the First Emperor of the United States, it's also obvious that he has been carefully crafting the image he wants people to see, so Card's obviously trying to keep that secret in the bag as long as he can. And events are in motion that, depending on the outcome, will reveal one or the other. (My money's on Cole & Company's mission to Washington being a trap, just for the record.)

In regards to Torrent, though, one name from a text common and beloved to both Card and I keeps coming to mind and refuses to go away: Amalickiah.

More "Empire" Reactions

Spoiler Alert!




He killed off the main character! Serves me right. I was just thinking last night that the book was starting to get a little boring and predictable. I also remember thinking that the main character's refusal to distrust people he thinks he knows was going to come back to bite him--but I didn't imagine it would get him killed! He was the guy with the family, for crying out loud! Card isn't supposed to do that to families! But then he has no compunction against "colorful metaphores," so why not?

I didn't see it coming. I should have. Nice one, Card. You turkey.

Changing my vote, though. Professor Torrent is probably a good guy. Unless, of course, Pres. Idaho (gah, what's his name?) is a bad guy (entirely possible). Then all bets are off.

Hee hee! This is fun!

Bits and Pieces

Lady is settling in nicely, though it will take some work to redo the house-training that was undone during the last several years of her living outside. The cats still avoid her, though she is just dying to get acquainted. We're going to try a few things tonight to encourage the situation a little.

I learned over the weekend that the observation tower in Harlanharju, one of the places we visited last time we went to Finland, was destroyed by an arsonist. It's really unfortunate--even moreso since the person has evidently done this before at another site. It was quite a magnificent view from up there. It was a historical structure, so obviously something like that can't truly be replaced, but I hope they try.

We bought a DVR last week, and I'm slowly getting more and more used to how to run the thing. Soon we'll be able to bore our family with DVDs of our home videos! The kids enjoy the "reverse" function. Not that I do at all, of course. I certainly wasn't one of those who thought a substitute teacher was really cool if they'd run the movies backward in class. No, not me.

Today is Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. It's an official company holiday where I work. However, they also give us a lump sum of paid time off per year, which holidays are deducted from, so I'm not observing it. If I'm going to have to pay for my day off I'm going to save it for a more amenable month. I've got a playhouse to build in a few months, after all.

So sorry, Dr. King. Next time pick a better month for your holiday. Call me un-PC if you like.

I've been listening to O. S. Card's new book, "Empire" lately. It'll be interesting to see where it all winds up, but so far it's at least entertaining. I'm still waiting to see where the conspiratorial historian comes back into the book. He supposedly recruited our hero in the second chapter, but hasn't been seen since. Is he good or evil? At this point I'm betting "evil." And with that statement I can hear my brother and sister who've already finished the book smirking.

Smirk on, siblings!

New Arrival

Lady came to live with us today. Here's a picture:

Cats and Dogs...Sleeping Together...!

It would appear that we are about to become a dog household. Terhi has been teaching ballet for the past semester at a private studio in someone's house. Each week she and the kids notice the people's dog chained up in the yard and feel sorry for it. I think the owner has noticed their attention--and her own family's lack of attention--and decided to offer the dog to us. We're going to accept and see how our cats deal with it.

Just another step in our evil plan to make sure my allergy-ridden family never visits us again.

In other news, I took the Christmas lights down tonight. The wind was blowing from the south via the coffee factory. I know I'm a Mormon, and we don't drink coffee, but I don't see anything in the commandments about not sniffing it. Roasted coffee beans provide a mighty fine aroma. Fine enough that I didn't mind crawling around on the roof of the house so much.

Now Where Did He Hear That?!

Overheard from my three-year-old son this morning:

"I'm not a monster. I'm freaking out!"

Oh, De Toilette

The flusher handle thingie on the toilet in the kids' bathroom broke today. Had I know it was such a non-specialized part I could probably have picked one up on the way home from work with all my other errands in the same area as Home Depot. But I didn't, and so I spent half an hour making a special trip so that I could spend five minutes fixing it--and that includes hauling my toolbox up from the garage only to find out it didn't require any tools.

And I am blessed enough to have this be the biggest problem I've faced all day. What a country!

All Right, Back To Work, You Bum!

I've enjoyed being off work for the last week and a half, even if much of the time was spent catching up on the honey-do list. Had a wonderful Christmahannukwanzadanstice--it was even a week before the kids returned to not having anything to do! I've been reviewing and revising the budget, inventorying the food storage, and generally taking charge of a few things that have slipped over the past year.

We spent last night with friends. Every year (except one) we have a couple over to celebrate the wife's birthday. Since they keep agreeing to it each year I can only assume that they enjoy it as much as we do. There's an art to being good guests, and these two seem to have mastered it. Though they're technically my friends, they always do an excellent job of including Terhi and keeping the inside jokes/references to a minimum. We talk (a lot, for us), play games (rediscovered Mille Bornes this time), and consume mass quantities. Great fun!

Today we celebrated by going to the local discount supermarket and buying $160 of food storage items. We would have bought more, but were afraid of breaking the cart. Canned goods get heavy. Then we came home and took down the Christmas tree and all the decorations. I'm amazed at how big our living room feels now.

And tomorrow I go back to work. I'll be officially starting on my new assignment.

2007 is officially under weigh. I'm not as optimistic (or perhaps confident--and with very good cause) as Tiffany, but I think this will be a good year. To quote (the entity known as) David Bowman, "Something is going to happen. Something wonderful."

2006 Predictions Revisited

So, let's see if I'm any more psychic than last year:

1) The 2006 elections will provide no significant gains for either party.
Wrong. Unless you've been living in a cave, the Democrats won majorities in both chambers, and is well on target to squander the good will of the American people.

2) Britney Spears will not get divorced.
Wrong. If you've been living in a cave you'll know that the world ended this year when she announced she's splitting from Mr. Britney Spears.

3) Kevin Federline's album will enjoy mixed sales. He'll still make several million. He lands a contract for TV or a movie in the process. Will still be called "Mr. Britney Spears" by the media.
Jury is still out on this one. But since part of this one hinged on the previous one, I'll count this one as a miss, too.

4) Tom and Kate will not tie the knot.
Boy, I'm batting 1000 here. They did, in case you were in the aforementioned cave.

5) Iraq's new government will perform reasonably well, their army will step up, and U.S. Troop levels will be below 75,000 by the end of the year.
No, yes, no. That's another miss.

6) Saddam Hussein will be convicted and executed--over U.N. protest.
I got one! I really got one!

7) The U.N. will try again to gain control of the Internet.
Probably. I haven't heard, to be honest.

8) Joseph Lieberman will go Independent.
Got another one! Yes he did, and he won.

9) Iran will develop a nuclear weapon. Israel or the U.S. will take military action to keep them from using it.
Not enough information on the former, but definitely not the latter.

10)North Korea's government will collapse. China will send in troops to stabilize the country.
Don't I wish.

11) I will be working for a completely different company.
Technically true. It's the same old company bought by a completely different company, and acting like a new company.

12) I will finally figure out what I want to be when I grow up.
Nope. Still clueless....annnnnnd loving it!

13) Walter will become interested in something entirely different from tractors/trains/cars.
Yes and no. He's very much into "Babe" and "Charlotte's Web." But he still loves anything with an engine.

14) Emma will take to kindergarten like a duck to water.
Not a very difficult prediction, but quite true. She hates inservice and vacation days with a passion.

15) Terhi or I will start a side business.
Kinda true. Terhi is teaching ballet for someone else's studio.

16) There will be a major earthquake (6.0+) within in the U.S.
Unless I was in a cave, no.

17) There will be a foiled terrorist attack at the Torino Olympics.
Nope.

18) At least one major media organization will go out of business.
Not that I know of, though there were several mergers, buy-outs, and restructurings.

That's about 5 or 5.5 out of 18. I am officially less psychic than last year.

....annnnnnnnnd loving it!