“For the Galaxy” – Stall Tactics

In 1991 and 1992, I wrote what may be considered “a book” by some low standards. Printed out, it was 180 pages single spaced. The title of the book is “AllardWorks – For The Galaxy”. It’s a science-fiction/comedy affair, and featured my good friends of the time. I am hardly in touch with any of those people any longer. I wasn’t in the story. My last name is in the title. That’s enough.

Rereading it would probably be painful, but I stand by the story and most of the gags that I remember.

A lot of the story was based on alter egos and parodies. There was a big Indiana-Jones like scene in a restaurant. There was a Rambo scene in a city environment; he low-crawls through the streets on a mission; people keep interrupting him to ask him for the time, etc. Errrr… I think there were more parodies, but those are the two that jump out at me. There are several other jokes that persist the entire story that I really like.

I was rushing to finish the story before heading to basic training in April of 1992. I mostly finished it, but not quite. I was thinking about the sequel.

To be young and naive... I never finished the first and never started the second. I got pretty caught up with the computer programming thing.

In the passing years, I’ve attempted to write some stuff, but it never gets too far off the ground. I think the primary reason is that I’m just not that good of a writer, but I am a good coder. Its easier to just go back and write code in which I can see tangible results.  I can write funny and I can write witty, but it tires itself out after the length of an email.

There are several stories that I’ve been mentally developing for years and have tried writing more than once.

• TSAD – this is the oldest. I wrote the original of this in high school
• BATTLE CHRISTMAS – my biggest problem with BC is setting up the back story in order to justify the primary story. I’m having real trouble answering “how did we get here?”
• SAVIOR – despite its long mental existence, it only recently got a name. I wrote chapter 1 a few months ago. I like this story a lot… not the part I wrote, but the 1000 parts I didn’t write.
• SUICIDE HERO – that’s a working title; i doubt it will stick, but it is growing on me. I wrote a little bit of that a few weeks ago. (I just wrote a paragraph describing what this is about, then deleted it in fear of it being stolen. As-if.)
• BOYNTON BEACH ZOMBIES – with all of the zombie movies these days, how could I not think about one? I wrote the first couple scenes of a screenplay about a year ago. It quickly became apparent that there’s no way I could make it, so stopped writing it.
• OTHER ZOMBIE PROJECT – this is the newest one that I only recently started kicking around. It’s a first-person zombie story from the zombie’s perspective. I have a few paragraphs on it.

Stephen King could write all of these in about a week and have most of them transferred to the screen within a year. I can’t do any of them, at least not now.

But maybe I can do FTG. The thing that’s different about FOR THE GALAXY is that it was funny, at least in theory. It was a fully flushed out story with a lot of characters, but there was a lot of foolishness and it was fun to write. So, recently I’ve been thinking that maybe that’s the one I should focus on.

A lot is going to have to change. The alter-egos and parodies have to go away, and the number of characters has to be reduced. The title has to change; AllardWorks will need to be replaced with something not involving my last name. Also, a significant part of the plot has to be gutted. I’ll have to eliminate time travel. In 1992, Time Travel stories didn’t completely appall me. Now they do. As soon as a movie involves time travel, I cringe. The recent STAR TREK movie wasn’t so bad because they didn’t use time travel as a cheesy way to right a wrong or as a cheap way out of a predicament. I let that one slide. But, to get back on point, “For the Galaxy” did somewhat involve time travel. Time travel never happened, but there was a machine that could do it, and it probably would’ve in the sequel. I don’t want to be appalled by my own work.

I’ve recently become discouraged about my non-work related endeavors in the technology world. I think I’m ready for a break, so now may be the time to take another swing at writing something readable. Or maybe not. Maybe this blog entry will be as far as I get. But, at least for this brief moment in time, I’m excited to consider rewriting FOR THE GALAXY. I just created a new Google doc and wrote the name of a character that I haven’t written since 1992. I considered changing this character name, but didn’t.

In another window, I’m installing MICROSOFT ONE NOTE. I haven’t used it before, but I’m hoping it will help me keep track of things; characters, plot points, etc. We’ll see.

And, in this window I’m writing a blog.

What do one note and Windows Live Writer have in common? They are both a means of stalling from doing the actual task at hand, which is to try to do something productive. As I write this closing paragraph, I’m trying to think of something else I can do in preparation of the story without actually writing it. If nothing else, at least I wrote some character names.

Why I Love The Kindle

Greetings

Check out this book: http://www.amazon.com/Arcot-Morey-Wade-Complete-Invaders/dp/1846774934/ref=pd_rhf_p_t_3

Incase you don’t want to click the link, it’s called "ARCOT MOREY & WADE”, a collection of 3 books. It costs $23.99

Now, check out this KINDLE download

http://www.amazon.com/Ultimate-Science-Fiction-Collection-ebook/dp/B002ZNJO48/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1261201290&sr=1-2-spell

Incase you don’t want to click this link either, it’s “The Ultimate Science Fiction Collection: Volume 1 to 3 (80+ Books).

80+ books. That’s more than 80 books by my count. The cost of this? $1.99. That’s less than 2 dollars. (I love math). And, guess what the first 3 books of the 80+ are? They are the “ARCOT, MOREY & WADE” books. My word.

I didn’t actually by this collection of books. I should’ve, but didn’t see it. Instead, I bought just VOLUME 1 for $1.00. For another 99 cents, I could’ve had 60 more books.

I’ve read 2 of the three books. The KINDLE shows me that I’m 4% through everything. I don’t know how many pages the first 3 books are, but my sense is that they’re pretty small.

These books, the first 3 in particular, are from the early 1950’s. Time were different then. Their idea of cutting-edge and advanced technology was quite different than how it planned out. Its extremely interesting and fresh. Its fresh because no one today can write what they did back then because most of its just plain wrong.

50 years from now we’ll probably look back at the books of today and say the same thing. You can already see it en-masse in the movies. How about those monochrome monitors in the ALIEN movies?

These books, written in the 1950, take place in the future. In the future:

• Planes are still the primary mode of transportation, but they’re much bigger. To accommodate the larger size, they have more propellers.
• When they go to Venus, the bad guys have absolutely massive air planes… they completely dwarf anything earth has ever come up. They have even more propellers.
• Nothing is known about the other planets. They are believed to have life and oceans, etc.
• There is no concept of satellites. Even when the cast because space borne, they can only communicate with earth via line of site. So, they have multiple listening stations around to earth
• Lots of talk about radio tubes, transformers and relays. No mention of computers.

They also have lots of things that never came to be, and still seem kind of clever. After a failed alien invasion, we learn that the alien space ships are powered by captured condensed light. This is called light electricity instead of matter electricity. (that might not be exactly right, but you get the idea).

It must’ve been liberating to be able to write anything you want about anything you want without science and facts and evidence getting in the way. To do that today, you’d have to venture out to another solar system or another time.

Its a real pleasure reading these books. I have no idea what’s coming next in the 20 or so books I bought for a dollar. That’s kind of liberating too; just keep reading these stories by authors that I’ve never heard of, and gain some perspective on yesteryear at the same time. There aren’t any new books that I get excited about; if Tom Clancy ever writes again, I’d be into that, but I can’t think of anything else I’d run out to buy. I could read any of the hundreds of novels that Stephen King released this month for $8 each, or browse the bookshelf hoping to come across something good, but there’s no need. My queue is full with many books. If I start to run low, another dollar will get me through another year. How can you beat that? Even at used book store, a single book will cost you 50 cents or so.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go find out what happens next. The combined forces of Earth and Venus just repelled an invasion of an unknown alien race. The downed alien space cruisers are blowing up on a massive scale. The main characters are busy at work trying to devise a weapon to more effectively deal with the remaining cruise ships. Maybe if I’m lucky, they’ll listen to some AM radio.

Funny Blockbuster Email Exchange

Greetings

A friend sent this link to me. I don’t know if it’s a true story or not, but very funny regardless

http://www.27bslash6.com/blockbuster.html

San Francisco – First Impressions

Its big.

NOTE: I just wrote this as fast as I could. I haven’t proof read it yet. If you choose to read it now, set aside your grammatical ethics.

When I stepped out of the airport and into the shuttle-bus area, I didn’t really know what to expect or to look for. I was hoping the hotel would provide a shuttle, but settled for the first thing I came across. The first thing I came across was the blue-van version of a taxi.

I piled in with 5 other people and attempted small talk. It failed miserably. That was a common theme throughout the day, so clearly it was me. I was off my game, so I sat in silence. I spent the time posting updates to Facebook.

Unfortunately, I arrived in the evening, so couldn’t get too good a look at the place. Even if it were daylight, though, I don’t know that it would’ve helped because the cab “driver” was a complete maniac. Everything was blurring by as someone punched the hyper drive.

San Francisco is as it looks on TV…. lots and lots of very steep hills. It seems that when going down hill, you can let the laws of gravity do most of the work. But no, you can’t. Apparently, in San Francisco you’re obligated to floor your gas pedal the instant the light turns green, regardless of the angle of the incline that you are currently descending. Another smaller cab made the mistake of pulling up next to our cab. Every time the light turned green, the race was on. It really was out of control, and also it would seem not uncommon. As I walked around this evening, I saw more of the same: everyone flooring it as hard as they can as soon as it turns green. Fortunately, for the most part the do abide the stop lines and red lights, unlike in Florida where such traffic controls are merely suggestive requests. My theory is that there are so many pedestrians, and that the traffic controls favor the pedestrians, so the drivers have to make best use of the time.

I have to imagine that the average driver replaces their brakes monthly and transmissions annually.

Anyway, back to the drive.

Before entering the terror of the city streets, I spent time being terrified by the freeway driving. I was trying to get a glimpse of the fabled “Golden Gate Bridge”, but didn’t have any luck. Finally, we took a turn towards the GG BRIDGE, which I thought was promising, but we didn’t make it far enough.

Somewhere along the way, we passed a sign for “Candlestick Park”. That served as a reminder that I was in an earthquake zone. I was going to ask the driver if any earthquakes were scheduled for this week, but as we already established, I was off my game and didn’t want to put myself in an awkward position. So I saved that gem for the blog. I hope you enjoyed it.

Despite the fact that I lost 5 pounds due to sweating during the drive, I do have to acknowledge the driver’s navigational ability. He dropped off 3 of the 5 people at these little apartments along the way. He never had to ask for directions or clarification, he knew where everything was.

Naturally, I was the last to get dropped off. Along the way, it seemed like we passed signs for MARKET STREET several times, often while going in the same direction. It’s possible that San Francisco is the site of a hidden black hole that distorts the plane of existence to a measurable extent.

At last, I arrived at the hotel. The driver slowed down so I could dive out safely. After executing a near perfect tuck-and-roll, I checked in.

I’m on the 21st floor.  The reminds me; its an Earthquake zone.

I got to my room at about 9:45pm pst. The back wall of the room is mostly a single window reaching from the floor to the ceiling. Its a nice view. The room is very decent, although the close door is unfortunately positioned. There’s a nice flat screen tv that comes with 20 channels of nothing I’m interested in. Except maybe ESPN, but after that Patriot’s loss, why would I want to watch ESPN?

Today I spent the day in a DDD tutorial, but who that reads this blog cares about that? I wouldn’t. So, we’ll fast forward to the end of the day.

My co-workers and I, after much negotiation, came to the agreement that we would meet in the lobby at 7pm and venture out for our evening meal. That left about 3 hours for me to keep myself busy.

I returned to my room and fired up the laptop. I’m being pretty literal when I say “fire up”, because the thing is hot. I tried using it on the plane. It quickly elevated my body temperature by 37 degrees; a matter of concern. I setup the webcam and called Gina and Jack. Jack was at the table in his height chair, the camera well positioned. It was pretty cool. It took him a few minutes to understand what was going on, but once he got it, he interacted with me at about 75% of normal capacity. We did all our tricks together (clapping, motorcycle noises, waving, etc). I showed him a toy that I found in my laptop bag during the conference today. I don’t think he was too interested in that since he had several better ones already at his disposal. Yay for technology. Yay for Skype.

After that, I wanted to go to the gym so that I could embarrass myself in front of strangers. But, I felt obligated to do some exploration instead. When I went to Seattle a few years ago, I didn’t have any time to look around until the very last day. I didn’t want to make that mistake again.

By the time I got out the door, it was about 5pm. The immediate concern was to not get lost. Anyone who knows me knows that I’m pretty absent minded about that stuff because, for the most part, I just don’t care. All roads lead somewhere. I’m usually not in enough of a rush to pay attention to that kind of thing. But, this time I was on a schedule, so had to make sure that I knew how to get back. So, I took mental notes of landmarks and intersections. (Quick Aside; the WESTIN AT MARKET STREET is actually on THIRD street…. unless that’s just a side entrance. It looks like the main entrance though). Then, I remembered that my trusty Verizon Voyager has a built in GPS system. So, I plotted a course back to the hotel and put it my pocket. At that point, I ceased taking mental notes of where I was.

And I began walking.  There are lots of people on the street, lots of buildings, and lots of traffic. Its a full blown city. I only leave my house for about 14 minutes a week, so I’m not longer use to this urban lifestyle. It was refreshing. Its colder out, also refreshing.

There are a few chain restaurants, and a lot of big retail stores. Between them, there are a lot of little places perhaps of the mom-and-pop genre.

While on the move, I tried to get a picture of one store called FCUK. It came out to blurry and I wasn’t going to stop for it. “Oh, another silly tourist taking a picture of our sign”. It looked like a high class join with a non-dyslexia friendly name. FCUK. Who’s idea was that? It reminds me of the SNL skit with the “kids” in lettered sweatshirts who keep almost arranging themselves in such a way that would bring down the wrath of the FCC.

The number of WALGREENS around here is comical. Just on the first random street I chose, I walked by 3 of them all within a minute of each other. I suppose that’s just good marketing. Suppose you’re walking down the street and you think “wow, I really could use an ab-roller as-seen-on-tv. Should I stop now?" If you say no definitively, then you’re ok. But, if you’re on the fence, then Walgreens takes two more swings at you within the next two minutes. You can resist it once… but can you resist it 3 times? In my case, its simpler. My question was “Do you want an Arizona Iced Tea”. The answer was definitively yes, so I stopped and bought one.

I didn’t really have a goal in mind when I set out, so had to make one up. “Get to the highest elevation I can find”. So, I started climbing the hill.

I can’t imagine this place in the winter. Everything is on a giant hill and a fierce angle. The calves in this city must be massive.

I didn’t-dally with my stroll up the hill. This was a gym-alternative, so I walked fast. It was a loop: walk to the light; rest while waiting for the pedestrian light, cross the street, repeat.

On one block, I walked past a guy and a woman. The guy suddenly turned around and angrily yelled “will you shutup!?!?”. I didn’t know what he was talking about. I looked back and saw who he was talking to. It was a mentally handicapped young woman. I played a few scenarios in my head trying to wonder what prompted the outburst. Maybe she wasn’t with them and was harassing them or something. Then she said “I think we made a wrong turn”, without acknowledging the outburst. She was definitely with them.

Crap. I hate stuff like that. What should I do? I probably should’ve just kept my mouth shut and mind my own business. I could spend some paragraphs discussing the virtues of that, but it would be an exercise in futility. A more interesting discussion would be about what I actually did. We stopped at the next light to wait for the pedestrian crossing. The girl caught up. I looked over to her and said “Hello”, in a very positive way. She looked back and smiled and said “hello” back, very enthusiastically. Then she looked looked to the other woman and said “He said hello to me!”, as if no one had ever done it before. At that point the guy looked over at me, and I forced eye contact. “Yes sir, you’re a ****, and I caught it.” I didn’t have to say it. He knew it. He immediately looked away. You can substitute the **** with the derogatory term of your choice. I have a particular one in mind, but I will respect your creative substitution.

After that, I kept moving up. The top of the hill was in sight. I made it to the top and was disappointed to see that there wasn’t a grand view of anything special. I looked to the left and right and saw that there were a couple more blocks of elevation to the left. So, I tackled that, and my disappointed continued. I don’t know what I was hoping to find, but whatever it was, it wasn’t there. I could see some body of water in the distance, but it wasn’t breathtaking from that vantage point.

The climb was breathtaking, though. Between the exertion and the cold air, my lungs made their presence known. Just in time to start working my way back down.

Descending the hill isn’t any easier than climbing it. You have to stop yourself from falling face first and tumbling over a 1/2 mile of asphalt. But, it is a fresh perspective. You get to hurt a whole different set of muscles.

I back towards the general direction of the hotel. None of the landmarks that I made a point of identifying jumped out at me, so I pulled out the GPS. The GPS didn’t work exactly as planned. First of all, its designed for driving not for walking. I think it was having trouble determining which direction I was going. Also, all of the tall buildings weren’t helping the reception. But, it got me back to the ballpark of what I was looking for. I walked past 19 Walgreens, including the 3 I mentioned earlier, and made my way back to third street.

It was a little after 6pm when I got to my room. I spent 3 minutes pondering the wonders of Easter Island, then sat down to write a blog entry. I started with a title of “San Franciso – First Impressions: it’s big.” Then I elaborated over many paragraphs until, finally, I reached the end, which is now: 6:48pm

He said “Let There Be Chuck”, and there was. (Scrubs, too)

If Chuck was cancelled, it would’ve been the most disappointing television event of last year. They ended up giving it another 13 episodes. Now, they just gave them 6 more. 19 episodes… that’s almost a full season. If it were on FX, that’d probably count as 7 seasons.

Scrubs is back on December 1st, too. I’ve said my +good byes to SCRUBS. I’ll have to judge the new season as a new show.

Info about CHUCK and SCRUBS

http://www.comingsoon.net/news/tvnews.php?id=60461

My previous SCRUBS rant

http://jayallard.blogspot.com/2009/05/is-scrubs-sitcom-version-of-brett-favre.html

Zach Braff isn’t dead!

http://jayallard.blogspot.com/2009/10/moment-of-silence-for-zach-braff.html

New Phone Number

[BEGIN TRANSMISSION]

[28-OCT-2009]

[RE: PHONE # UPDATE]

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Jay Allard (tm), a wholly owned subsidiary of planet earth has, after a lengthy negotiation process with AT&T (Nasadaq:ATT), obtained a new land based telephone number.

"While the old phone number was sufficient in some ways, it didn't read well. A phone number should not only be functional, but it should roll off the tongue as if it were poetry." said Jay Allard, in a recent interview with himself.

Financial analysts, who were alerted of this change prior to the public release despite multiple SEC laws and regulations, have responded with mixed sentiments. While most agree that this change will ultimately affect the gross value of Jay Allard, the magnitude of change and the timing thereof remains to be seen. In the end, it will be difficult to discern the actual affect of this monumental change due to all of the parallel projects (such as his new shoes) of similar significance.

Said one analyst, who is also named Jay Allard:

"There will be a certain adjustment period as we transition from the old inferior phone number to the new superior phone number. There will be times that we use the old digits simply out of habit. When we receive the "out of service message" from the phone company, we may at first respond negatively by hurling the phone through a window. But then we will remember that we were duly notified of the change and the fault is ours, not Jay Allard’s. We will then calm down and dial the correct number. Then we will replace the window.".

It has been rumored by Jay Allard industry specialists that the new phone number cannot be entirely attributed to desire for a finer rhythmic quality when saying the number out loud. Behind closed doors, it has been speculated that the new number was more in response to poor Comcast (Nadaq:SUCKS) service. Jay Allard may not say such in a public forum, but a strong possibility exists that, in an effort to save money for his parent company, phone service was bundled with internet service resulting in a lower bill and a phone that never worked properly. But, such rumors cannot be confirmed. Such negative public comments are not the style of Jay Allard, so it is more reasonable to expect them to say "We didn't like the old number" rather than "Comcast really sucks and if I had an opportunity to strike one company with a Texas-sized meteor, Comcast would be it". Maybe future generations will look back upon then unclassified documents and learn the truth, but we of the 21st century can only speculate.

This media outlet has learned that the new phone number will be announced tomorrow at a news conference scheduled to conflict with your favorite show. We have obtained a copy of the 337 page announcement, and have learned that the new rhythmic number is:

561.xxx.xxxx

A keen eye may observe the presence of periods rather than dashes between the major segments. This is not by accident as people generally emphasise things differently when confronted with the less-oft used period. 3 out of 5 dentists agree that this reflex reaction contributes to the desired rhythmic quality of reciting the number, once again demonstrating Jay Allard's commitment to pleasing his callers world wide.

The new number has been secretly broadcast to http://aaaa.com, and to the Lotus Notes aaa directory. Jay Allard really wishes he didn't have to use notes, but he is so excited about the new working phone number that he will decline further comments. (Its called email... not "a memo").

[END TRANSMISSION]

Confessions of a Sony Hater

I’m currently celebrating my 17th year of not buying any SONY products, with the notable exception of the PS3.

As previously blogged, I didn’t want to buy a PS3, but I did want' a blu-ray player. The PS3 was the only logical choice. It was among the cheapest blu-ray players, plus its a gaming system. No brainer. Today, you can get a blu-ray player for $100 less than a PS3, but that still seems cost ineffective to me. (Unless, of course, you have 0 interest in gaming or any of the other features of the PS3)

My primary gaming system has continued to be the XBOX 360. But, lately I’ve had a lot of opportunity to use my PS3: Resistance, Resistance 2, Uncharted, and the trial of BIG LITTLE PLANET (or something like that).

As a SONY hater, I’ve had to come to terms with certain facts.

#1: I’m not afraid of the PS3. Every time I turn on the XBOX, I hold my breath and hope for the best. With the PS3, I just turn it on.

#2: No matter how you look at it, things just look better on the PS3. This one isn’t really a fair comparison, though. The PS3 is hooked up to my computer monitor via HDMI. The XBOX is on a 7 year old 61 inch Toshiba with a component connection. We’re not comparing apples to apples here, but even that considered, I think the PS3 just looks better

#3: This is the latest realization that prompted this blog entry. I had been saying that the PS3 is a better machine, but I thought the software for the XBOX was better. Last night I hooked up the PS3 to my router and downloaded all of the updates. I gotta say, its a very nice interface. Its crisp and professional looking. Maybe I like it because its different, but I think I like it because its very good.

The core problem here is that I love Microsoft and I hate Sony. I work with Microsoft products every day, and I am a die-hard fan. Despite that, the PS3 appears to be the better machine on all fronts. Maybe it doesn’t have as many good games, but the games it has are gorgeous. I downloaded the 1gig demo of LITTLE BIG PLANET yesterday, and was blown away by it after just a couple minutes. (I haven’t actually played it much yet, but the presentation exceptional.) The visuals on UNCHARTED are completely gorgeous, and I’ve been told that UNCHARTED 2 is even better. I didn’t care for MGS4, but I thought that was the best looking game I had played until that point.

People who know me well know how I feel about SONY. My position hasn’t changed. My problem isn’t with their products, it with how they support them. Well, at least, how they supported them 17 years ago. Now you can return anything to the retailer and not worry about it, but when I had the VCR incident, such conveniences had not yet been established. I was just a wee lad with nay a dollar in my satchel, and they robbed me of it.

So, will my grudge against SONY ever end? Sure. If they send me a check for $400 to compensate for the piece of crap VCR they sold me in 1992, then I can move on. Until then, my association is limited to this neat little thing called the PS3

Incidentally, my so-called “devoted wife” has recently demonstrated a decreased commitment to my clearly established ethical guidelines pertaining to SONY and SONY products. She bought a PSP because, apparently, we had too much empty space in our nightstand. Intense therapy got us past that. More recently, she bought a SONY digital card reader. Really? Ok, the PSP is a unique device. If you want to buy a PSP that you’re never going to use, then you don’t have a choice but to buy the SONY version since that’s the only version there is. But a card reader? There are so many to choose from… why choose that? It hurts.

A Word About Stargate Universe

In a word: Excellent.

Stargate SG1 is a classic. It ran a little too long, and it lost its creativity at the end. (Hey, we just defeated a race of false gods! Lets tackle another race of false gods!)

I enjoyed Atlantis, to an extent, but it was never able to cross over from “decent lightweight” to “serious contender”. I remember one season where they made a big deal about taking a different direction with it; I remember being of the impression that it was going to get more serious; more hard-core. But it didn’t. There were a couple good fight scenes, but it was same-old same-ole.

At the very end, I thought it’d be great if Atlantis came to earth in full view. It didn’t happen, but I hope they make a movie or such that finally reveals the stargates and Atlantis to the world.

SGU in no way diminishes the integrity of SG1. It brings it to a whole new level, though. Obviously influenced by Battlestar Galactica, its visually stunning. The sounds and music are great, and the characters are all excellent (if not a bit whiny).

The key to its success, as with all recent super hero movies (and BSG), is that they take the material seriously. Sure, there is comic relief, but the plot is serious and the characters are serious. Dr. Rush is a complete jerk. He’s not a misunderstood jerk with a kind heart that every one likes (ie: rodney); the guy really is a jerk. He gives you a bad feeling and you don’t trust him. This is perfectly demonstrated by the end of episode 4 where the captain realizes that Rush may have known about Destiny’s purpose to visit the sun all along.

I find every episode exciting and gripping. There are little things here and there that I could pick on, but I find the whole experience so rewarding that I don’t want to pick on it. I want to enjoy it.

This really is, so far, a great piece of science fiction. The first 4 episodes have been setting up the series. Now that everyone’s on board and they’ve worked out the power problems in destiny, it may now fall into a routine. Stop the ship; visit a planet; get back on the ship in 12 hours; move on. Let’s see how they keep that fresh and exciting. It can go wrong, but it started very strong.

A Moment of Silence for Zach Braff

No, he’s not dead. But, there was a period of about 3 minutes when I thought he was. ComingSoon.net had a headline saying he had killed himself, which I reacted too. A search for additional information quickly revealed that it was just a hoax.

But still… what a disappointing 3 minutes. Heath Ledger didn’t really bother me. That’s the risk of drugs. My usual response is “poor you and your millions”. That would’ve ultimately been my opinion of a Zach Braff suicide, but that wasn’t my immediate response. My immediate response was “holy crap”, as I replayed 7 seasons of scrubs in my head. Such a funny show; such a funny guy. Or, at the least, a very funny character. Zach Braff may be a jerk for all I know, though I’d like to think not.

I’m obviously glad that it was hoax. I’d hate to see JD go out that way.

Movie News to be Excited About!

I don’t actually get too excited about movies anymore. Transfomers? Sure. That’s exciting. Transfomers 2? Not so much. Transformers 3? That’s good news (July 1st, 2011), but exciting? Not really.

A few minutes ago I was catching up with my RSS feeds and came across a Quentin Tarantino interview on an Italian talk show. The interviewer asked him about prequels and sequels, but she did not ask about Kill Bill (perhaps because Bill has been Killed), so he lead her to ask. She asked, and he said there will be a Kill Bill 3.

Oh yes! Kill Bill 3. At long last, we have a film that is excitement worthy.

I’ll try to refrain from spewing my usual dribble about how fantastic the first one is. That was followed up by a good, but disappointing sequel.

It will take place 10 years after Kill Bill 2. The article read speculated 2014. The plot might be predictable; After The Bride killed Vivica Fox, she told her daughter “If you grow up and have a problem with this, then come find me”. But after 10 years, how old is the daughter? 16? 18? (that largely depends on how old she was in Kill Bill 1.) Is that enough time?

I’m not the biggest QT fan in the world, but when it comes to Kill Bill, I’m a believer. A lot of comments on said article stated that its a bad idea. I disagree. My only regret is that I may have to wait 5 years for it, but I’m eager to wait.

House for Rent

These pictures were taken by my phone, with poor white balance.

If you or someone you would like to know is interested in renting it, we’re interested in renting it to them, so that should work out pretty well.

Front

Internal view from the front door. The side walls are a very pale blue color. The back wall is a darker blue.

The living room, closer up.

The kitchen

Master Bath, two sinks

Master Bath, Tub

Master Bath, Shower

Master Bedroom

Living Room, Back to Front

Bedroom #1

Bedroom #2 (from the entrance)

Bedroom #2 It may first look like a big crack in the wall, but that’s actually the chain for the light. (The picture threw me when I first looked at it)

Guest Bathroom

Guest Vanity

Office. The colors are a steel blue type color. (Here it looks more green than what it really is)

The pool. Solar heated, lit

Arrangements have been made to clean the yard, and maintain it month to month. I’ll add yard pictures once its presentable.

2012 Trailer - So good, yet I fear it

The trailer for 2012 is really something special. Its going to be a sfx extravaganza, and it even has some people in it.

It looks like they're doing a NOAH'S ARK type of thing. You can see a giraffe being air-lifted into the boat; I'm concerned about that part of it.

Roland Emmerich is a hit or miss directory; usually miss. I was willing to overlook THE DAY AFTER TOMORROW and give 2012 the benefit of the doubt. But then, while flipping through the channels, I came across 10,000 BC and remembered that Roland Emmerich directed that too. Good lord... can I really overlook THE DAY AFTER TOMORROW and 10,000 BC?!!? That's asking a lot from me, a mere mortal.

The seed of fear that was planted when I saw the giraffe in the trailer how now sprouted. There are going to have to be a lot of SFX to overcome the atrocious story line, if it proves to be as atrocious as I now expect it to be. Maybe this is the come back movie... but have you seen his last 2 movies? Why will this one be better?

Bring on the SFX. Skip the dialog and plot.

The New House

We bought a new house today, and started the moving process. Loads of fun.

We’ve been looking at houses since January. The prices are really low; good for buyers, bad for sellers. But, we’re buyers, so it worked out. We had an offer on another house that we waited on for 3 months (short-sale), but the realtor was incompetent so we cancelled the offer and dropped her. A friend from Poker, as it turns out, is a Realtor, and he did a far superior job. He actually knows how to deal with short sales and foreclosures, and was exceptionally diligent about getting everything done.

The house was originally sold in March 2006 for 536,000. That didn’t work out for whoever bought it, so it foreclosed, and we picked it up for less than the older smaller house we’re living in now.

We’ve always joked about the size of our current house. For years, it was just the two of us. There were 2 bedrooms we never used. I referred to them as the west wing. Now, there are three of us, and we still have sufficient room. One room went to jack, and the other is rarely-used guest bedroom (although we did have some recent opportunity to share it). If we have another kid, though, we’d be out of extra space. But, in all honesty, we don’t really need a new house. But, with the way the market is, now is the time to get one. It became WANT over NEED. Its a much bigger house for less money; now is the time. This will give us 2 extra bedrooms and the loft. If we had another TV, the loft could be a video game room or something; maybe the nieces and nephews will hangout there.

I never mentioned the upcoming purchase to my family because I thought it would be a nice surprise when someone comes down to visit, but no one has any short-term plans to do so. Instead, I waited until after we closed before sharing. It was a done deal at that point, so no reason for anyone to be anxious about it. Several times along the way I was tempted to tell people about it, but after a while it became a challenge not to. (In the interest of full disclosure, Dawn knew about it because she was here as we were working on it.)

The new house is about 3,000 square feet, which is bigger than our current house of about 2,000 square feet. It doesn’t have a pool, but the community pool is nearby, and we have a lake view.

Rooms

• 3.5 bathrooms
• 5 bedrooms (1 to be an office)
• kitchen and a pantry-like closet
• living room
• dining room
• 2 car garage
• laundry room
• some other room next to the kitchen… for eating breakfast?
• 2 walk in closets in the master bedroom (there are other closets throughout, but these ones are small rooms by themselves)

Features

• Built in 2006
• Central Vacuum
• Intercom/audio system throughout
• Granite countertops
• Roman tub
• Lake view
• Probably a bunch of other stuff that I forgot, but Gina would love to address

Issues

• The carpets are trashed. Even if the weren’t, though, we can’t have carpets on the first floor due to the dogs. Flooring is being installed tomorrow. Something needs to be done on the second floor eventually, but no time soon
• We need a fence in the back yard again due to the dogs
• There’s some water damage in one of the bathrooms. We need a roofer to make sure its no longer an active leak (inspector doesn’t think it is), and repair the damage
• Needs some paint and some touch ups, but nothing drastic
• There aren’t any ceiling fans, and lighting is minimal (no rush, again)

We’ll move some stuff Thursday and Friday, but the big day is Saturday. Gina has been at work setting up the utilities, etc.

The old house needs some work, then we’ll see about renting it. If that doesn’t work out, then we’ll hold off as long as we can to see if the market recovers at all before selling it.

Here are some pictures. They don’t really give an accurate representation of size. I missed the kitchen and the back yard. (I have some on my phone, but not this camera)

Gina and Jack at the closing

Exterior Front

Back of the house looking to the front. (The stairs are for both UP and DOWN commuting)

1/3rd of the master bathroom

Jack’s new room

If not for the color, this would be my new office. (Yes, I know it can be painted, but I’m not known for motivation about such tasks)

This will probably be the office (notice the intercom)

Or maybe this one

Loft

Master Bedroom looking towards the closets and bathroom

One of the non-master bathrooms

Jack hanging out in the floor of his new house. This was a bad snap shot… he wasn’t upset, just looks it for some reason. He was quite happy tonight.

First floor 1/2 bathroom. We’re thinking about removing the door just to freak people out

Dining room looking into the living room

Random picture of 1/2 naked Jack

Hey… Look… Lights!

So, here’s what happened.

A few weeks ago, Gina plugged a treadmill into a bedroom wall outlet. The treadmill went through a series of emotions; it started as being confused and groggy after such a long slumber. When the fog of slumber cleared, it became angry at the prospect of having to do work for the first time at its advanced age. After some thoughtful reflection, the anger dissipated to acceptance, then to amusement, and then to extreme laughter as it realized it was about to become a high-powered clothes-hanger. So-is the usual emotional life cycle of most exercise equipment; its as predictable as not using said equipment. Unfortunately, the rapid progression through the emotional cycle was too much for the house to take. The house was taken aback… “Why is that clothes hanger laughing so uncontrollably?”. Its a 19 year old house. Its mental facilities are not what they used to be, nor is its reaction time. The house reacted in a knee-jerk fashion and killed the circuit. The treadmill shutdown (abruptly interrupting its hyena-like cackles), as did multiple outlets around the house.

Mistake #1 was asking me to look into the problem. As I often say, if it doesn’t have a keyboard, I’m really not that useful. Needless to say, the house doesn’t have a keyboard. But, I’m a grown adult. I’ve been able to accomplish some handyman-like things without seriously injuring myself or loved ones. I headed to the breaker box and looked for an off breaker. There were none. That pretty much exhausted my entire fountain of knowledge, but I continued to at least pretend I knew what I was doing.

We turned on every light in the house, and I flipped through all of the circuit breakers looking for one that didn’t do anything. I found it, killed the main, and took it out. I’m a genius.

I suppose at that point I could’ve just gone to Home Depot and bought a new one, but that’s not my style. I wanted to prove the problem first, so I ran a coat hanger across the terminals to see what would happen. Kidding! Ha! that would be irresponsible. What I really did was look for something that I could test the breaker with. I settled on the hard wired garage door opener in the garage. It looked low voltage. What’s the worse that can happen? (Yes, I can see volts).I took the button off the wall, took the wires off the button, then jammed the wires into each side of the circuit breaker. I flipped the switch and the garage door opened. I’m not an electrician, but that suggested to me that the breaker was fine. It feels like a mechanical device, not an electronic. If it was electronic, then maybe it only stopped working at high voltage or something, but I didn’t think that was the case. I replaced it anyway, and as expected, nothing happened.

Weeks passed. Amidst another endeavor, I learned that any outlet within 5 feet of a water source needs to be on a GFI circuit. Our kitchen has a GFI outlet… that’s tripped before, and I already checked it. That wasn’t the problem. Then it occurred to me that maybe there’s another one. I looked around all of the outlets in the known affected areas. Nothing. Then, a few nights ago, I remembered there was an outlet by the pool outside the bedroom. With a little excitement, I ran out to check that, and it wasn’t a GFI. Also, the nite-lite I had been using to test wouldn’t fit through the cover, so I didn’t even know if it was on or not. So much for the GFI idea.

Days passed

Our friend Chris came over tonight. He’s an A/C and Electrician type person. He came equipped. He checked all of the circuit breakers, and they were good. Then he checked the outlets, and saw they were bad. So far, I hadn’t missed anything obvious.

He began a manhunt around the house insisting that there was a GFI outlet somewhere that we were missing. I believed him, but I had no idea where it was. 2 seconds later he found one behind the BBQ. “Huh”, I thought. He hit the button and nothing happened. I was relieved because I wanted it to be more of a challenge after being out for 3 weeks. He took apart the outlet and confirmed that there wasn’t any juice.Sweet.

But, the manhunt continued with renewed vigor. He circled the house on the outside, then started working through the inside. When we got to the garage we went separate directions and I found it. It was right next to the breaker box behind some cabinets. As soon as I saw it, I knew it had to be. After all, it was a foot away from where I spent 90% of my time trying to solve the problem. Of course it would be right there.

I snuck my hand back there, hit the button, and everything started working.

I guess I should feel silly for not finding it on my own, but I don’t. Its just one of those things. If I knew that it had to be a GFI outlet somewhere, then I would’ve found it (at least, I think I would’ve), but I had no idea what was wrong. I only looked for it previously because I thought that might’ve been it, not because I knew it. Chris knew for sure, and was on a quest as if Indiana Jones looking for a Crystal Skull of some sort. It was inspirational and changed my life in a positive way. I may join a commune.

Now I know that:

• My house has more than one GFI circuits
• One of the circuits has 2 switches on it
• Any outlet within 5 feet of water must be on a GFI circuit (learned that last week in an unrelated story)
• GFI circuits go all around the house. I always though circuits were pretty localized.
• There’s an outlet behind our cabinets
• I have no business trying to solve house hold problems

Although it may be silly to people with IQs, at least I had fun and didn’t burn the house down.

The treadmill wasn’t available for comment.

Is SCRUBS the sitcom version of Brett Favre?

I love the show scrubs. For a while, I thought it was the funniest show on tv. Its early seasons were excellent. When I come across the reruns, I almost always watch them.

But, its not what it used to be. It hasn’t been as funny or as good in the last few seasons. Every time Sarah Chalke attempts to act by tilting her head sideways with a seriously dramatic puzzled look, its almost disturbing.

Even the Dr. Cox stuff got old, and he’s a funny character. Some of his bits got so old that eventually the characters started mocking them. Kelso pointed out to him: “We get it Perry. You’re going to say a long list of funny things”. In fact, that was only one of many self referential jokes over the last couple seasons.

So, they started coming up with new types of jokes. In the 8th season, they introduced some new interns. The show never falls below decent, but it rarely achieves the greatness of its younger years. It has gotten goofier and goofier. The goofiness is occasionally interrupted by attempts at drama and serious TV.

So, when I heard that SCRUBS was ending after the eighth season, I was disappointed, but I couldn’t fault the decision. Its time to wrap it up. In fact, I got a little excited about the prospect of buying the entire series in a box set in a year or two; I have always said I’d be the first in line when the release that box set.

The 1 hour series finale was on last week. My optimistic acceptance of its ending was compromised by it being a great episode. The last few minutes were spectacular. They went out with a bang.

Over the last week, I read a rumor that they might continue the show with the interns and maybe some guest appearances from the main stars. Oh sure. That’ll work. Let’s recap successes of shows that tried to go on without its stars: X-FILES, AFTER MASH, THAT 70’S SHOW. Huh. That’s all I can think of. There must be more.

Then, just a few short moments ago, I read that Scrubs will probably be renewed, and most of the leads are signing back on. Some of them have other pilots pending; if the pilots get picked up, they’ll go to the new show. JD is signed for 6 episodes (supposedly).

Crap. I have mixed feelings on this. While a small part of me (lets say, my left thigh and perhaps part of an elbow) is looking forward to it, the rest of me would rather just move on.

To make it worse, it looks like they’re going to mess with the format. I have always appreciated that there was never a laugh-track or a studio audience. I’ve discussed this 2 times recently with different people. I typically don’t like other people laughing at a show I’m watching in an effort to get me to laugh. If its funny, I’ll laugh. If its not funny, I won’t laugh, and the laugh track will annoy me. I have a friend that really likes TWO AND A HALF MEN. Due to his praises, I’ve tried to watch it more than once. I find it not funny, and the fact that the audience (or laugh track) laughs at all of the non-funniness is distracting. An exception is “HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER”. Its not distracting there because I laugh at nearly every joke.

I’ll try to get back on point: I’ve always appreciated the no-fake laughing in Scrubs. I never realized it until today, but now I’m retrospectively appreciating that it was a one camera show. It always had a unique style about it; I suppose that’s why. Now, for season 9, they’re talking about trying a different format. Maybe multiple cameras. Maybe a studio audience. If I had to pick one or the other, i’d go with the multi-cameras. A laugh track that laughs at unfunny jokes will be disrespectful to years of funny jokes. It will cheapen the experience.

So, which way should I go on this. Do I want them to renew it or not? Fortunately, there’s no need for me to figure it out because whatever is going to happen will happen regardless of my opinion. If it comes back, I will watch it and hope for the best. If they don’t, then I’ll eagerly await the day that I can buy the complete series on DVD.

They want their two dollars!!

Yesterday, Gina, Chris, Liz and I went to City Place in West Palm Beach to participate in the American past-time of “dinner and a movie”.

We started off at the always enjoyable Cheesecake Factory, then walked over to the Muvico theater for the 7:30pm showing of “X-Men Origins: Wolverine”.

Other than the 2-story tall loud mouth a few rows back, it was quite an enjoyable experience. How could it possibly go wrong?

It went wrong in a funny way.

When you go into the garage, you hit a button, and a miracle of modern technology gives birth to a piece of paper with a strategically located magnetic strip of parking garage related information. I can only imagine the plethora of information that fills its bits:

1. The date and time you parked

That’s all I can really come up with.

Anyway, on your way out of the garage, you give that piece of paper to the garage attendant who is usually (but not always) a miserable person hardly out of high school. They usually just don’t want to be there. Sometimes they don’t say a word at all; they’re just waiting for you to go away so they can get back to reading a book or biting their nails. (As I said, that is “usually”. There are some pleasant people that deserve honorable mention.)

We parked on the fifth floor of the garage, because I’m really particular about where I park and a qualifying spot could not be found any lower. It is a Chrysler 300, after all. As we loaded up, someone realized that we didn’t get the ticket validated. Oh well, we can pay a few dollars… or can we? (Insert ominous fore-shadowing music).

I looked in my wallet and all of my pockets, but couldn’t find the ticket. So, I checked them again in reverse order. When that didn’t work, I checked the console and the floor. No ticket. Oops. Then, everyone got in on the action in a not-so-desperate search for the ticket.

So the ticket was lost. These things happen. Surely this couldn’t be the first time in the history of City Place that someone lost a ticket. So, we began the clock-wise descent down the parking garage. I quipped that hopefully it would be a lady so I could turn on the J-Charm (tm) and woo our way out of there. Unfortunately, it turned out it was a young lady. I say  “unfortunate” because J-Charm doesn’t actually exist; its a myth. Big foot is more factual than J-Charm, and then I found myself in the unfortunate position of having the demonstrate its lack of existence.

The girl at the gate seemed like she was 16 or 17. Maybe she was actually older; I’m very bad at determining people’s age. I’m not even sure how old I am. I pulled up to the window, gave her the “howdayado”, then told her that we lost the ticket.

I was mistaken. She wasn’t a 16 year old girl. Oh no. She was a Judge Dredd incarnate; no small talk; no sympathizing; no reasoning. She is the law. She passed judgment. “That’ll be $10”.

Its important to note here that I was wrong. I lost the card. If I had $10, I would hand it over. But, the fact is that this is the year 2009 and cash isn’t as necessary as it was way back in 2008 and 2007. We, as Americans, relish in the convenience of debit cards. City Place Parking, apparently, is anti-American and accepts only cash. They are very lucky that McCarthyism has past.

Despite my wrongness, the girl was without reason. I was prepared to present 4 movie stubs and a $100 receipt from Cheesecake factory, but she wasn’t interested. There were 4 adults in the car, and none of us had cash. I was sure we could scrape up a few dollars in change from the console, but she didn’t want to even talk. She just kept repeating “I AM THE LAW! I AM THE LAW”. Rob Shneider backed her up.

Since speaking civilly wasn’t an option, the only reasonable thing left to do was to ask for the supervisor. (Incase your wondering, aborting the mission and finding an ATM isn’t “reasonable” to me.). When I asked for the supervisor, her request/response programming took over, and she said she’d call him.

A few seconds later, the supervisor pulled up on his huffy bike and stepped into the booth to see what was going on. If the girl was 17, then he was 18. He was in awkward spot, though, because he had to back his employee. As I explained the situation to him, he relied on his many months of experience to relate to me as a person and tell me that he understood; if it was up to him, we’d work something out, but of course there are the books to consider. His job was at stake; he could get audited, and being short a few dollars would not be a good career move for him. But, we all know that’s bull. There are procedures to handle this type of thing.

I challenged that there must be a button to press that opens the gate. After all, security guards get in and out. He responded that the guards have a badge that opens automatically. Oh. That didn’t work. Strike 1.

It would appear that we were amidst a West Palm Beach stand off. The supervisor suggested that I backup and go back to the ATM. Again, I lost the ticket, so that would be the right thing to do… but surely there has to be something less extreme than that. I ignored his suggestion like it never happened.

Suddenly, the supervisor suggested that he could let me out for $6. I told him I don’t think we have $6, but we’d try. So, 4 full grown adults with full time jobs started digging through all of their personal belongings and every nook and cranny of a 35k car, pulling together a growing pile of change. At that point, it was ridiculous, but the only way to get out of this was to actually find $6, or exceed his patience. (I now realize that he could’ve called security or something, but that didn’t occur to me until later). At one point, I asked him he accepted food stamps. He said yes. Bummer. That back fired. I didn’t have any food stamps. In fact, I don’t even know if they exist anymore; isn’t it all electronic now… like cash? Strike 2.

At last count, we had $4.80. Chris thought it was $5.80, but I don’t remember it being that close. It was a silly pile of mostly small change. Finally, the guy asked how much we had, and I told him. He conceded to “Just give me $2. We’ll work something out”. $2 is, probably exactly what we owed. The first hour is free, then its a dollar each hour after that. Perfect. We gave him the $2, and the gate opened. He started lecturing me about the value of the ticket, and tried to convince me that he was probably going to get fired for letting me out. “Next time, treat the ticket like gold”. I didn’t appreciate that at all. I’ve been there a hundred times and never lost a ticket. I told him that, but he was too busy counting nickels to care. He got his little lecture in, so probably felt pretty good about himself.

In the previous paragraphs, I poke fun at the people in various ways, but I don’t mean it maliciously. The girl was not at all friendly, but she was, I suppose, professional. She was as personable as her Skynet programming would allow. The supervisor did the best he could, and was polite and did participate in the banter. But, neither of them had any chance of convincing me that there was no reasonable way out of this situation. Its a garage, not a court of law or the pentagon. Look at the evidence and gauge the situation, and then log that a ticket was lost. I could’ve mailed a check if it was that important, though I don’t know if City Place has the means of processing such an advanced technology.

Note to City Place: Look into things like “debit cards” and “credit cards”. The year is 2009; they’re common place. If you want to charge us a little extra for inconveniencing you with the wonders of modern technology rather than cash, then that would be preferable to the foolishness that happened last night. Again, I understand that I shouldn’t have lost the ticket, but you could be more accommodating. Its an imperfect world; people lose tickets. I would’ve been happy to pay the $10 on a debit card rather than $2 in nickels. (But, I would not have been happy to have to backup and go to an ATM because the parking garage is stuck in 1975). You’re located in West Palm Beach; its a modern shopping and entertainment part of town. Patrons have been spotted with cell phones, computers, sneakers that light up when you put your foot down, and other space-aged wonders. A lot of them got to City Place by using a thing called “GPS”. These may seem like scary times to your cash-carrying visionaries, but I assure you, it is all quite normal. Credit cards, too, are normal. Providing it as an option isn’t going to scare anyone or confuse them to such an extent that they will no longer go to City Place. In fact, to some, it might even be considered a good service. To others, such as myself, its an expected service.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to take my horse and buggy to wall street so that I can trade in my bag of cash to purchase some stock certificates. This week I’m going to invest in lead paint futures.

Funny THE ONION headline

I don't actually read THE ONION anymore. But, I read the headlines via my RSS reader. Few of them actually make me laugh, but this one did.

In Focus: Casual Friday Claims Lives Of 13 Nuclear-Waste-Disposal Technicians

I haven't read the article. The headline is good enough for me.

Betrayed by WII FIT

I don’t like to complain. As a general rule, I’m a passive person. I have my pet-peeves, sure, but I try to be reasonable about them. And, when I am unreasonable from time to time, I feel bad about it.

The troublesome issue of which I now speak is not such a pet peeve; it exceeds pet-peeve. It legitimately warrants my displeasure. I have thought rationally about it and can say, with confidence, that I will not regret writing this post when I wake up tomorrow morning. The WII FIT exercise game has left me no choice but to rant, and rant I shall.

Those of you who play WII FIT may guess (dare I say unsuccessfully) as to the target of my complaint. Perhaps you, too, find the amount of warnings, dialogs, and A buttons is excessive. Or, maybe you are bothered by the blatantly low-def graphics that make you yearn for your XBOX 360. Or, maybe… just maybe… you find it odd that your WII FIT AGE ranges +/- 15 years from one day to the next. With those complaints I sympathize, but they are merely nuisances compared to the actual problem of this game. Had I spent any significant time complaining about those other types of things, surely I would feel regret the pettiness.

I’m afraid that my issue is much more severe. It may have been experienced and discarded by other players as just a fact of gaming, but I hope my perspective on it will cause some of them to reconsider their position and treat it as a serious offense as I have.

I am referring to the occasional unavailability of the female trainer. When I signed up with the WII FIT, I was given the option of two trainers: male and female. After carefully considering their credentials, I chose the female to be my capable guide on the road to fitness success. It wasn’t a decision I made lightly; it was a crucial decision at a crucial time; there were a lot of things that I had to consider such as “which one is a girl” and “which one is not a guy” and “which one is a girl”. After mentally compiling the results, I selected the female. Anatomically, she is both a girl and not a guy which fits my criteria perfectly. And, as a bonus, she is a girl.

The relationship started strong. It is, after all, a business relationship founded on cold hard cash. Whenever I wanted to play, I would start it up, and she would be there waiting. We’d do some yoga and some strength exercises; she’d find nice ways to say “you suck” after doing pushups, and verbally applaud me after the balance exercises. It was better than cordial; I believe there was a mutual respect that, over time, evolved towards a friendship.

Then one day last week, I started an exercise, and I was presented with the male trainer. He stood before me flaunting his non-female’ness in a subtle but unavoidable way. Sure, he was polite and professional, but it was just a mask. He apologized for the absence of the female trainer, and hoped that he would be sufficient. Of course, the WII FIT didn’t allow me to respond; it just assumed that I would be ok with it and proceeded without giving a second’s pause.

I reluctantly bit my lip and did the exercise. I didn’t want to overreact. But it bothered me and threatened to bubble over.

Fortunately, the female trainer returned for the next exercise. I didn’t say anything… what could I say that wouldn’t sound whiny? But, things weren’t the same from then on. I knew it, and she knew it after a couple more exercises. The relationship had been damaged, but I didn’t think irreparably. In time, I thought we could recover.

And then she did it to me again 3 days later! The nerve! What else does she have to do that she can’t show up for my work out? Is she in another WII Channel playing Donkey Kong? (Incidentally, even though Donkey Kong is 30 years old, I can’t get past level 2). The first time I was willing to accept the betrayal as a fluke occurrence. But, the second time… the second time was maddening. How dare she! After all of those promises of “If you ever want a fitness tip, I’ll be here” and “Whenever you want to work on trimming your waist line, I’ll be here”. Well, I wanted a fitness tip. She wasn’t there. I wanted to trim my waistline. She wasn’t there. Talk is cheap.

But I am partly to blame, for even after the first offense, I was a gullible sucker, believing her every word. I trusted in the sanctity of the trainer/trainee bond, and she spat on it. And then she wanted to do the SUN SALUATION yoga pose as-if nothing had happened.

Well, I can play that game too. Sure, go ahead, do your yoga poses and say your randomly selected insincere lines. Tell me how strong I am, and how great my center of balance is. Go ahead. Keep on saying it. I’ll listen, and I’ll play nice. But know this: once I shut off the WII, you are dead to me. You are no longer a friend, a trainer, or even a person; you are just bits on a DVD. When I’m done with you, I’m going to play with my XBOX 360. The XBOX 360 is HI-DEF, peasant! It doesn’t toy with my emotions. It delivers what it says its going to deliver. When I pick a game, it doesn’t say “no, play this game instead”. What it lacks in personality it compensates for with integrity. And when it comes to game systems, integrity is what is important.

So you take your fancy-shmancy balance board, and tell your lies and make your false promises. I now see the real you; while the outside you is moderately hot (as far as video games go, but you’re no Lara Croft), the inside you is just plain ugly, and I will waste no more thought on you. All that’s left between us is the workout. We could’ve had something special, but you ruined it.

But be warned: do it again, and maybe I’ll start poking around in your personal life; see what you do when the WII goes off. Find out who your friends are. Where you like to hang out. What are your dirty little secrets? This is the information age, and I know how to google. Go ahead. Try me. Don’t show up one more time and lets see what we can dig up.

Jay’s Right Foot – A Documentary

Greetings

I’ve mentioned this story more than once. I’m going through all of my files and trying to get things organized; remove duplicates, etc. I could never remember if it was my left foot or right foot, so at least we’ve been able to answer that.

I came across the foot story, and read it. I have mixed feelings on it. It demonstrates what I was capable of at the time, though I don’t know if that’s a good thing. Parts are funny, other parts fall apart. The BOSTON TEA PARTY line is a real cringer. I have a favorite line that I’ve always remembered (I’ll post it in the comments as not to ruin a punch line)

I have a TEXT version and an HTML version. I’m pasting the text version. It has hard coded line breaks, so I don’t expect it to look too good, but we’ll see.

So here it is. Its 14 years old. Vintage jay. Unedited for content.

 

Jays Right Foot: A documentary.

   by Jay Allard

     Monday morning, April 23, 1995, I was the victim of an
accident that will forever change my life... a life that I am
lucky to still possess.  In this article I will walk you through
this tragedy, relay my thoughts on several aspects, and fight my
way through the more grisly details in hopes of preventing a
similar incident.  I hope you, as the reader, will take the
following text to heart.
     I woke up Monday morning the same way I wake up most Monday
mornings... with my feet out the window, and my head under the
rug.  I am not sure how this keeps on happening, but a
superstitious person may contend that there is no reason other
than the infamous bad luck that has become synonymous with
"Monday Morning".  After relaxing for several minutes as my body
built up it's desire to move, I finally got up and wiped the rug
lint off of my face.  I stretched for a moment, and then
proceeded to the door.  At the time, I didn't realize I was a
mere few steps from tragedy.
     I flipped the light switch expecting illumination but
receiving none.  A blown bulb?  Perhaps.  A broken light switch?
Maybe.  Black out?  A possibility.  Destiny?...  The Random House
Dictionary (Concise Edition) describes destiny as "(n) 1.
Something that is to happen to a particular person or thing."  At
the time I thought it was just a blown bulb, but in retrospect I
now believe that destiny takes the credit.
     In the last 8 years I have walked up and down the stairs
many times, usually without incident, so I merely hesitated in
the darkness, disregarded all concerns, and then proceeded down
stairs.  With each step, the stairs creaked, slightly disturbing
the early morning silence as I steadily advanced upon the second
floor.  I was about half way to my goal when the goal itself
became insignificant in comparison to my fight for survival as I
tripped over a foreign object and plunged to the bottom of the
flight amidst a haphazard combination of flips, splits, and
random limbs bouncing off the walls and floor.
     I don't know how long it took for me to wake up after
impact.  It probably would have been longer if not for a distant
voice beckoning me.  Where was the voice coming from?  Was I at
the hospital?  Was a doctor or nurse holding my hand, their face
a mask of concern as they yelled, encouraging me to fight, to
hold on?  Or was it beyond that... did the voice come from not
somewhere local, but from somewhere beyond the realm of Earth?
Could it have been the angels of heaven, arms open, their sweet
voices singing to me, welcoming me to the world beyond, promising
an end to all pain and misery and an afterlife of joy, serenity,
and free Pepsi?  At first the words were unintelligible and
despite all my effort I couldn't tell, but then I summoned an
inner strength that all behold, but few ever use, and I fought my
way to consciousness where the words became clear.  "Quiet down!
I'm trying to sleep!"
     Alas, the truth became clear.  I was at the bottom of the
stairs and my mother was complaining about the noise of the fall
 
as she tried to resume her slumber.
     The details slowly came back to me as I examined my
surroundings.  The second floor looked pretty much the same as it
always does, except I was seeing it at eye level.  Feeling mostly
in tact, I sat up... and that's when I saw the blood gushing
freely from my right foot, creating a massive puddle.  It was as
red and hideous as hell itself.  It took all of my will power not
to release a stomach churning scream reminiscent of a Nightmare
on Elm Street movie... which definitely would have waken my
mother.  Instead, being the trooper I am known to be, I pulled
myself to a vertical position, keeping the weight on my left
foot, and limped to the kitchen to examine the grotesque wound.
     As soon as I saw the blood I accepted the fact that this was
an injury of great repercussions.  I would probably have to spend
quite some time in the hospital and undergo several
reconstructive operations as distraught doctors worked to return
my foot to it's original form.  Hence, I would have to take
significant time off from work which would raise much concern
among my fellow workers, and more than likely dampen their usual
high performance (except for Rick) which would, in turn, hurt the
customers.
     All of this danced through my mind as I used 2 ply extra
absorbent Bounty to wipe up the blood from my foot and the floor.
As I pondered how I was going to pay the medical bills that were
sure to accumulate at record speed, the magnitude of my injury
became more obvious, and I suddenly realized that there was
enough change buried between the cushions of the couch to pay for
the two band aids that I would need to close up the wound.  The
miracles of the bodies ability to heal itself continue to amaze
me.  It occurred to me that it might not be as bad as I
originally conceived.
     But many subjects still demanded attention.  Foremost, what
did I trip on, and what cut my foot?  Would the answer to both
questions be the same, or entirely different?  Or maybe was the
cut on my foot just a coincidence, unrelated to the trip?  With
renewed energy I stood up and limped over the scene of the
accident.  At first I couldn't look... the accident was only a
few minutes earlier and painfully vivid in my memory.  I realized
the recollection of me tumbling down the stairs would forever
haunt me, but I overpowered the urge to look away, and sought the
answers.
     Careful not to slip on the blood at the bottom of the
stairs, I turned the corner and confronted the foreign object
which had damned me.  A minor gasp escaped as I grabbed the wall
for additional strength.  I stared at the object, and it stared
back... as if mocking me, knowing what it had done, relishing in
the throws of victory.  And there I stood, all my weight on one
foot, the two band aids symbolizing my defeat.  I don't know how
long I stood there staring into the eyes of the enemy... staring
into the eyes of a food processor, but despite the seemingly
never ending duration of time, it probably wasn't more than a few
seconds.  My eye found the double blades of the food processor,
red with blood.. my blood...dripping..."drip"..."drip"... and I
could take the pressure no more!  I picked up the various parts
of the processor, limped to the kitchen and threw them away.  The
food processor had cut me, but somehow I took comfort knowing
that it was at the bottom of a trash barrel, and I was not.

     That was a week ago. It has been a long week of healing...
both physically and emotionally.  The food processor blade broke
my life into a pile of puzzle pieces, and I have spent the last
week putting them back together.  Doing the frame was easy, it
always is, but filling in the middle has been far more difficult
than I expected.  As I write this essay, I feel some of the
remaining few pieces falling back into place.
     Many people believe that everything happens for a reason.
If someone gets hit by a speeding car, it means that it's time to
install a speed bump.  If someone gets struck by lighting, it
means it's time for them to stop dancing naked on the top of a
hill in the middle of a electrical storm holding a television
antenna high over their head.  If someone accidentally glues
their face to the highway and gets run over by a bus... well,
this world doesn't really need people like that anyway.  The
point of all this is as follows:  Earlier I said that I think the
light in the hallway was broken because of destiny.  Consistent
with that theory, I now feel that I cut my foot and fell down the
stairs for a reason.  The reason wasn't immediately obvious, but
yesterday as I was sitting at the kitchen table eating a peanut
butter and jelly sandwich (wishing I had some bread), it occurred
to me...  The accident happened so that I can prevent other
people, such as you, from having the same accident!
     The statistics are scary.   The number of food processor
related foot injuries has steadily been on the rise since the
late 1700's.  The first recorded incident was on a ship in Boston
Harbor.  A merchant was unloading some tea, tripped on a food
processor, and fell into the ocean, bringing the tea with him.
The injury necessitated not two, but three band aids!  This led
to an uprising most commonly referred to as "The Boston Tea
Party".
     I recently talked Doctor Jules, an esteemed podiatrist at
Mass General Hospital.  He was more than happy to offer a few
minutes of his time before he had to go attend to a priority 3
hang nail.  I told him the gruesome story of my injury and my
concerns about food processor related foot injuries, and he was
more than sympathetic.  He said that just twenty three years ago
he treated a young lady with a similar injury.  Apparently, her
house had burned down, and as she trekked through the wreckage
the blade of a food processor pierced her sole and dug deep into
her foot.  Doctors were very concerned about the injury and spent
much time contemplating a treatment.  The final decision was to
use one "extra large" band aid.
     Twenty three years.  I hope by now you can see my point.
The first injury was in 1776.  The second in 1972.  The third in
1995.  The duration between injuries is becoming smaller and
smaller.   At this rate, the next injury should be in or about
the year 2003.  That's four injuries.  By the year 2500, the
numbers could be as high as 25.  Looking beyond that they become
frightful.  A computer simulation predicts that by the year 3119,
there is the distinct possibility that there will be up to 587
food processor related foot injuries, and by the year 99,214, the
numbers could be in the hundreds of thousands.  In fact, by the
time I'm 300,000 years old, there may have been more food
processor related foot injuries, than there were lives taken by
the plague.
     This is a very serious matter that I hope you consider each
and every time you use a food processor, or any other small
kitchen appliance.  Take care of your food processor.  If you
take care of it, it will take care of you.  Always know where the
blade is, this is very important.  And, whatever you do, do not
store it on the stairs.

4/30/95