Diary of a Network Geek

Oh, I wish I’d thought of this!
Okay, for those of you familiar with my resume, you know that I have a degree in Marketing, with a Minor in Psychology. (Scary thought, that, isn’t it?) As a result, I’m always playing around with Marketing ideas, like rewriting ads, “inventing” crazy products that no one could market, and thinking up outrageous marketing slogans that shock and disturb. I especially like the ones that disturb, but I’m twisted like that. So, you can imagine my co-mingled excitement and dissapointment upon finding the Advertising Slogan Generator. I was excited to have found it, but dissapointed that I hadn’t thought of it first! And, incidentally, these can work well as names for blogs, or even subtitles for blogs.

Anyway, what the heck, it’s Friday, click the link and suggest a new slogan for your business, department or project. What have you got to loose?

I finished Junky by William S. Burroughs this week.
As always, Burroughs is an entertaining, if somewhat disturbing, read. He is, of course, infamous for his drug inspired literature and with a title like Junkycould you expect anything less? The book jacket says that the work is “semi-autobiographical”, but, from what I know about Burroughs’ life, it’s pretty much dead on. Oh, some of the characters and specific situations might be fictional, but the meat of the work is pretty much real. Or, as real as anything ever is in his work. Of course, he was often writing while under the influence of heroin, which is the main subject of Junky, actually. Heroin addiction. It is, unfortunately a timely subject as H is on the rise again, or was a few years back. Thankfully, I’m somewhat removed from that world and don’t know what the “drug of choice” is among today’s up and coming addict. I am not, however, all that far removed from being driven by personal demons. Sadly, I understand this all too well and, in that way, Burroughs’ writing always resonates with me. When the main character, Burrough’s first-person alter-ego, describes everything in life being “gray” when not on H, I know what he means. How everything seems bland in comparison, even lesser “kicks” or highs don’t do as much as H. I get it when he talks about abandoning all else just to get that next fix. I recognize this landscape of pain, though I may not have walked it myself.
Honestly, this is as close as I can imagine it coming to seeing inside a junky’s head. Seeing the world as they see it. Seeing their drives and needs and how that prioritizes their life. It’s a little frightening at times as it describes over and over the process of needing to score and the mechanics of scoring then shooting up, though the depictions are far from graphic or obscene. If you have a strong spirit and want to see the bleak world an addict inhabits, this is a great read for you.

Now, though, I’ve started I Heard You Paint Houses : Frank “The Irishman” Sheeran and the Inside Story of the Mafia, the Teamsters, and the Final Ride of Jimmy Hoffa, so it’s more crime drama coming soon!

I’m tired.
I’m tired in that special way that brings mild hallucinations and, eventually, psychosis. Normally, when I get tired like this, I see small, dark shapes that the edge of my vision and get all jumpy and twitchy. Oddly enough, though, I never saw the shadows at the edge of my vision until I got to Houston. I think it’s a latent fear of giant cockroaches, which, incidentally, exist against the laws of God and nature, that leaks out when I get very tired. At least, I have a good reason for it this time around. Not staying up late to watch Adult Swim on Cartoon Network or almost anything on the SciFi Channel.
Starting last week, I’ve been trying to not allow myself to drift off back into a light nap before working out in the morning. I’ve also been trying to get to bed before 11:00pm, but that’s been less successful. Of course, my schedule hasn’t helped much. Thursday, I was at therapy and didn’t get home until almost 8:00pm, so, by the time I ate, checked e-mail and played with the poor, neglected puppy, it was suddenly late. Friday, I went to a men’s support group and met with someone afterward for coffee. Again, it was after 10:30pm when I finally got home and later after checking e-mail and playing with the dog. Then, it was up early on Saturday to go to another support group in the morning and home again to, uh, try and clean my house. And, to try and find all the things that my ex-wife wants me to ship to her. (I’m still trying to find the christening gown and cap. I know I’ve seen it in the house sometime and somewhere, but I can’t seem to find the damn thing!) Then, at about 4:00pm, it was off to the prayer meeting before church. Home again about 7:30pm, fully charged spiritually, and, after watching appropriate levels of cartoons, off to bed by 11:30pm, or so. Sunday, it was “Work In The Yard Day”. I cleaned the pond filters and did a minor repair on the slightly damaged roof of the carport. I also washed the car for the first time in weeks and worked for several hours on someone’s computer for them. So many folks had problems after Rita came and went with no effect to us that I can only imagine what it would have been like had she hit. Anyway, I didn’t manage to completely fix their problem, but I got them into better shape than they were. Now, it’s up to RoadRunner to replace the cable modem that I think is bad. After that, it was home again for a quick bite, and play with the dog, then off to another men’s group. That got me back home around 9:30pm, or so, and, somehow I got into bed around 11:00pm. I must have read a lot. Oh, and there was some ironing in there somewhere.
Monday, was a full day at the office and phone call after phone call after I got home. Again, it was almost 10:30pm before my time became my own again. Last night, it was a prayer group meeting after work, and a quick stop at the store, which got me home at about 9:45pm. So, check e-mail and play with dog and suddenly it’s 11:30pm again! But, the meeting was good, so it was worth it.
I do believe now, that I am a member of the Super Secret Inner Circle of the Prayer Team. I know the secret handshake, the password and have been through the Grand Ceremony, which I can only tell you involved a delicious artichoke dip followed by a very tasty shrimp casserole. There are benefits of membership! The upshot, however, of all this activity is that I’m exhausted and a bit edgy. And, now, I’m thinking I should add a category for the prayer team or Mercy Street at least…
Also, I noticed a pattern with that e-mail habit and playing with the dog. Hmm, I wonder if I could get an au pair girl to help with the dog? Maybe a nice girl from Denmark or Switzerland….
Sorry, I digressed a bit. So, all this means that I’m tired, in a kind of spiritually satisfying way, and I’ve managed to do my entire workout of pushups, situps and hand weights every morning this week, so far. Unfortunately, it also means that those of you who were waiting for pictures of me and my rakish goatee will have to wait. I’m off to bed early tonight and tomorrow is therapy and … Well, and then the cycle repeats itself with some minor variations. Aw, what the heck, as Warren Zevon sang, there’ll be time enough to sleep when I’m dead.

At least, before you resell it.
It’s always amazed me how many people don’t think about this. Honestly, do you want people you only know through eBay to have your old financial records? Or erotic e-mail you wrote your ex-husband? Or old pictures of you before you started your diet? Or any of a thousand other dangerous or embarassing things that you might leave behind on a drive. After all, all it takes is formatting the drive twice and it should be pretty safe. If you want to get close to government standards, format it nine times. That should pretty well make it impossible to read the old data. For most folks, this really shouldn’t be a big problem, since most folks don’t resell their hard drives, but, apparently, it’s become enough of an issue that the BBC News wrote an article about it.
If you’ve ever bought, or sold, a hard drive on eBay, or anywhere else, read this article. It should frighten you half to death. And, the problem doesn’t stop with hard drives. Any kind of data storage is at risk. Even those memory sticks in that digital camera you sold. Like the idea of your family pictures just floating around out there? Yeah, me neither. So, do yourself a favor and wipe your old data storage devices before you get rid of them. No matter how you dispose of them.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"The real art of conversation is not only to say the right thing in the right place but to leave unsaid the wrong thing at the tempting moment."
   --Lady Dorothy Nevill

Hmm, that is the question.
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer the razor burn of a goatee or simply maintain the facial-hair status quo. I am uncertain. I’ve worn this full beard since before I moved down here from Chicago, with a brief time out for a job some time back, and I’ve grown to like it. However, I think it adds years to my face. People see me with the full, gray beard and add ten to twenty years to my actual age. When I was married, I didn’t care, but if I ask a nice lady out and am denied based on an incorrectly percieved age, ah, that would be quite a tragedy. So, I’m debating it. If I weren’t late for church already, I’d post pictures appropriately altered to show the two states and solicit opinions from my throngs of eager readers. (Hey, my ex-wife might even chime in, as I’m almost positive that she still obsessively watches my site.)
Well, maybe I’ll pray about… Or, post the pictures after I get back from church.