Diary of a Network Geek

So, now I need a Private Investigator’s license to work on PCs?

Yeah, according to articles at ExtremeTech and CW33, a recently passed law in Texas requires that ALL shops which include PC repair technicians have a PI license. Just so you know, a PI License isn’t for an individual, but, rather a business and all the employees would work under that umbrella license. Still, it would mean that at least one person go through the process of licensing, which has the following requirements:

• three years of investigative experience or a bachelors degree in criminal justice for investigations company license
• two consecutive years of legally acceptable experience in the guard company business
• successful completion of a two-hundred-question examination testing ability of the manager applicant to operate the guard company under the provisions of the statute regulating them
• criminal background check
• submitting fingerprints to have on file with the FBI
• ~$500 in registration fees, subscription fees, application fees, and fingerprint fees, payable yearly

(All that is from an article at Citronix Computer Techs. )

Now, it’s important to understand, too, that this is a brand new law, sponsored by a Private Investigation professional organization who are afraid of their profession becoming obsolete. Thankfully, there are also techs who have professional organizations, one of which is challenging the law, at least, according to KVUE.com.

Funny, I’ve always thought about getting a PI license and now I may be forced to do so! On the other hand, the $4000+ fines and possible jail-time are a great excuse for why I can’t help people at work with their private PCs!

Strangers

Originally uploaded by Network Geek

Quite possibly the least frightening scary movie I’ve ever seen.

Well, Child’s Play may have been worse, but The Strangers really is a bad, bad movie.
Granted, I am not the biggest fan of so-called horror films because I find them sadly formulaic and predictable, not to mention generally not scary, either. Also, mostly, the people in these movies never seem to learn and they make giant, ridiculous mistakes. Sadly, as much as I hoped this movie might surprise me, it did not.

So, the basic premise of The Strangers is this: A “happy” couple has a bit of relationship trouble after a friend’s wedding but end up out in the country at an isolated house where they’re stalked by persons unknown. One of the many formulas for horror films. So, naturally, here’s this couple, played by Liv Tyler and Scott Speedman, and they’re having a fight about the fact that he’s asked her to marry him but she’s not ready to marry. And, of course, their fight leads them to sex. Well, almost… As they’re starting to get their freak on, a girl knocks at the door asking for some other girl by name, but, of course, not anyone the couple knows. That’s the last drama for almost an hour. Yes, that’s right, an hour. He goes out for cigarettes and she changes clothes while she dashes about the house hearing the usual “is someone there?” stuff that end up in horror movies. By the time he gets back with her cigarettes, she’s freaking out and we know that someone else is there. And, finally, there’s some hope that plot will occur and someone will die.

Well, there are finally a couple of deaths and a little bit of suspense and a bit of violence. But, let’s look at the mistakes now, shall we? First of all, they’re eating Bluebell Ice Cream. Now, that means that these folks are in the rural South somewhere, since that’s mostly where Bluebell is available. In fact, I’m betting they’re supposed to be in Texas, which is home to the Brenham-based dairy. So, that would mean that there should be guns in the house somewhere. Not just the shotgun they find, but one or more revolvers. I mean, seriously, can anyone believe that a rural Texas home doesn’t have more than just a shotgun? Really? Or that a guy would not have at least a passing understanding of how to use it? C’mon! I bet Live Tyler in real life has a better understanding of guns than the “hero” of this story!
Then, Liv Tyler spends most of the movie running around barefoot. Can you not take the time to put on shoes before trying to outrun a someone you think is going to kill you? I mean, seriously, am I going to make a mad dash to a barn over an unknown hillside trying to get away from a murderer without putting on shoes? Yeah, I don’t think so, either.
And, do I really need to go into the whole “stay together” thing? Or, do I need to reinforce what a good idea it is to keep your cellphone charged? Or how silly it is to stand by the windows when the killers are right outside and have an axe? Seriously, the two characters in this movie deserved to die. They were too stupid to live. It was just evolution in action.

Honestly, if this isn’t the worst movie I see all year, I’d be shocked. In fact, if I hadn’t only spent four dollars on the matinee to see The Strangers, I’d be really upset. Do yourself a favor, though, and don’t bother seeing this movie, or even renting it. Trust me.

…And the first of this year, in review.

First, there was the Simpson’s Movie. That was part of the Saddest Bachelor Party ever. Half of us didn’t drink, half of us were gay, and I wasn’t quite done with chemotherapy treatments. No alcohol, no strippers, and I looked like a walking corpse. Hell, I felt like a walking corpse.
I’ve never been a huge Simpsons fan, to be honest, though I love Futurama. We went at the request of the groom, J. I bought dinner at my new, favorite Thai restaurant and I bought J.’s ticket. The movie was hilarious. Everything that was ever good about the Simpsons crammed into one movie. At one point, Homer is trying to catch up to his family and save Springfield. He’s using a dog-sled to do so and driving the dogs hard. They run away in the night and Homer whines “Why does everything I whip run away?” I verbally sympathized. We missed the next five minutes of the film while we laughed. But, really, if you missed this one, rent it. It was good, even if you’re not a fan.

Next was Dragon Wars. This was a Korean import staring mainly unknown American actors, or B-movie actors that should have retired years ago. The best thing I can say about it is…
“Dragons! With rocket launchers on their shoulders!” It was our catch phrase for the evening. Don’t bother even renting this one unless you want to reenact Mystery Science Theater 3000.

Then, I went to see American Gangster with J. and L. just after Thanksgiving.
This was very, very good. It was so hyper-real that it was almost unbelievable. But, it’s pretty well all true. This is the story of the Black Mafia in Harlem in the Sixties and Seventies. It’s all about gangs, criminals, heroin, and the mob. Again, very real, very violent and very good. Another one to rent if you missed it in the theater.

After that, though, we started picking up speed.
Midway through December, I saw the disappointment of the year, the Golden Compass. After the massive build-up and comparisons to C.S. Lewis and the Chronicles of Narnia, I had high expectations for this film. I was betrayed.
The entire movie was rushed and it felt like huge sections of plot had been left out leaving indecipherable gaps. The only thing that saved me, frankly, was having talked to a friend who read the books about the premise of the first book, on which this movie was based. The CG was very good, but not good enough to distract me from the butchered plot and lack of real sparkle in the film despite some brilliant actors. To say that it was a huge disappointment is, at best, an understatement. If you haven’t seen it, but feel compelled, I’d wait to rent it.

On Christmas Day, I went with my mysterious artist friend, for whom I’m doing some creative work, to see No Country for Old Men. If you haven’t seen this yet, skip work this afternoon and go see it. Yes, it is that good. I hope to see it again while it’s still in the theaters and I almost never see a movie more than once in the theater. That is how good I think this movie is.
First of all, it stars two of my favorite actors, Tommy Lee Jones and Josh Brolin. Yes, Josh Brolin, son of James Brolin and husband of Diane Lane. Very, very under-rated actor, in my opinion. Also, I didn’t realize that this was a Coen Brothers’ movie until I was there with Mark. So, by the time I sat down in the theater, I had pretty high expectations. They were exceeded.
Now, true to their form, this is a violent film. And, a very realistically violent film. I’ve seen a lot of wounds, on myself and others, fresh and not quite so, and the effects in this film are very, very good and the most realistic I’ve seen outside of… Well, actually, they’re the best I’ve seen anywhere. Period. So, if you have a weak stomach, don’t plan on eating Italian after seeing this one. However, if you’re up for a bit of the old ultraviolence, then this movie is for you.
The story follows Brolin’s character, who finds a drug deal gone very wrong in the Texas scrub while hunting. He hunts around until he finds the money from the deal and takes it. The rest of the movie is about the consequences of that decision and that act. Brilliant work.
If you see no other movie in the next twelve months, see No Country for Old Men.

Now, to wrap things up, I started my year with I Am Legend.
The weakest thing about this movie was the CG. Based on a book, which I’m currently reading, by Richard Matheson, this is the story of biology gone wrong. Will Smith plays an Army doctor who is the only survivor in New York City after a plague sweeps the world. The plague, which is the side-effect of a reengineered virus meant to cure cancer, kills most people and transforms the rest into Dark Seekers, zombie-vampire-like creatures that feast on living flesh and hide from the day-light. A classic monster movie. From what I’ve read so far, the movie is only vaguely similar to the book. In fact, it’s more like the Charlton Heston version of this movie, The Omega Man. (Apparently, this was also a remake of an even earlier version of the story staring Vincent Price called The Last Man On Earth, but I haven’t seen this version. Yet.)
As far as the movie goes, it’s worth seeing. I won’t spoil anything, but it does end on an up-beat. I do recommend that you see this with a friend, though, not alone like I did. At least, not if you’re feeling depressed or lonely. This is a very, very lonely film and Smith gets that feeling of hopelessness and futility across to the audience very well. If they’d spent just a little more on the CG, this would have been a truly great film. As it is, if not for Will Smith’s fame, I doubt it would have done well.
Of course, I might have enjoyed the film more if not for two of my fellow audience members that intruded on the experience. The first was an older gentleman that kept asking his much younger companion, daughter I assume, what was happening. When he asked where all the people were in the opening scene, I almost asked him if he knew what movie he’d come to see. The next time he asked a similar question, I had to bite my tongue to keep from snapping back at him that if he’d just shut up and watch the movie, the plot might answer his damn question! The other audience disturbance was the non-English-speaking family that brought a toddler into the movie 3/4 of the way through. You know, right before the horde of monsters stormed the hero’s stronghold. Perfect timing to scar the kid for life.
Other than that, though, it was an enjoyable experience.

So, here’s to the new year and many great movies to be seen!

Scanned and sushi-ed.

So, I survived my PET scan just fine today. Actually, I had a chest x-ray and some blood drawn, too, but those were minor compared to the PET scan. I prefer that, though, to the CAT scan. Something about all that barium really messes up my insides for a couple of days. In fact, when I told my oncologist that, she agreed to stick with the PET scans, unless they showed something to be worried about so that I didn’t have to deal with the indigestion and, um, other attendant problems that came with the CAT.
In any case, I won’t get the results of that for a week.
Afterward, my driver of the moment, J., and I went to a sushi joint. It was a place on Kirby called Azuma. It was pretty good and not too expensive, even if we did get the lunch specials, with a little extra. It had a nice, relaxing atmosphere and the sushi was really top-notch.
And, I’ve been meaning to mention that I had sushi with an old friend from back East a couple of weeks ago, too. He’s a consultant doing work for highly-confidential clients. It’s something he takes pretty seriously, which is a good thing, but, as a result, he couldn’t tell me that he was in town until he was, well, in town. So it was a really nice surprise and I ran down to his hotel to pick him up for dinner. We went to a different sushi place, which is why I thought of it again. That time, it was Shimako‘s on Westheimer. Also a very good place for sushi. He paid, though, so I have no idea about the prices.
I’ve been pretty lucky with my friends over the years. Somehow, I manage to find the most loyal, giving people who weather some of the strangest, most uncomfortable times with me. I’m honestly not sure how that works, but, well, I’m just going to accept it and be grateful.

Speaking of being grateful, I had a lot to be grateful for this weekend.
First of all, I came into a little money unexpectedly.  Not enough to dig me out of debt completely, but enough to pay one, lingering, medical bill that I’ve been ignoring with enough left over to do some charity stuff and pay cash for Christmas.  It was a very, very pleasant surprise, though, I have to admit, I was a little skeptical at first.
In any case, that got me so pumped up that I managed to motivate myself to get something like eight boxes of my ex-wife’s books out of the house.  Even better, I took them to the local Half-Price Books, so I actually got $60 for them.  Not bad, especially for books I really didn’t want in the house any more.  After the first of the year, I’ll have a couple more boxes sorted and ready to get rid of, so I’ll head back.  Now, sadly, I admit, I spent that cash on books for myself.  Still, I figure, books that I like are a good trade for books I don’t.

Now, the funny thing is, one large box of books was, um, rather, ah, “adult”.  So, I warned the nice lady who was going to sort them and make me an offer.  I didn’t want her to accidentally expose any kids to those books and scar them for life.  But, to ease us past the social awkwardness of that moment, I joked that they’d scarred enough lives already.  That got a little laugh and a bit of curiosity on her part.
When she called me back to tell me how much they’d give me, she assured me that I didn’t have anything in there that they hadn’t seen before.  Now, that might have been a bit of an exaggeration, I knew that there probably wasn’t much in there that would shock her.  But, I laughed and shrugged and said, “Well, you know, ex-wife…”
She laughed and smiled and said, “Yeah, I know, ex-husband.”
And she was kind of cute, in a butch way, and had some nice tattoos, so…  Well, let’s just say I’m looking forward to bringing the next batch of books which are somewhat less, ah, exciting than this last batch.

But, I was still so charged up from what I managed in the morning, that I got my laundry done and folded and put away.  And, I managed to get the wireless card working in an old, spare laptop, so it’s going to become a Christmas present for my red-neck nephew.  He’ll be excited, because he can sit in the coffee shop in the little, rural town where he lives and use their free wifi.  Yes, a coffee shop with free wireless in a town of less than 4,000.  Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?
And, then I got the rest of my Christmas shopping done.  My siblings and their families will be getting something from Bell’s Farm, as usual.  I like sending Texas fruit to the poor folks up North for a couple of reasons.  First, because fruit is so expensive up there this time of year.  And, also, because I had an uncle in Florida who used to send fruit every year, too, and I liked the idea of carrying on the tradition.  Though, I have to admit, he sent fruit to more people than I do!

Anyway, it was a great weekend and I got tons and tons of stuff done.  I did so much that I already have plans for a similar weekend coming up!  Though, next weekend will be devoted to photography and web design and stuff for the Super Secret Creative Project of Doom.  And, possibly working on a map and some background material for a setting idea I have for fiction.  I hope making it more solid, more real, will help me come up with ideas for stories.  We’ll see.  Oh, and I’ll write another post later in the week about my planned charity with a portion of my unexpected bounty.
Until then, though, keep your holiday spirits bright!

Well, I had my CT scan this morning.

I headed over to my doctor’s office this morning, arriving very early.  In fact, a good thirty minutes before they opened.  So, I called work to make sure C. knew where I was at and gave her my cell number, in case there was an IT emergency.  Then, I had her transfer me over to the president’s voice-mail, since I report to him, I thought he should know where I was all morning.  Seemed reasonable.  Not that it’s a big deal.  I generally work more hours than all but two or three of the salaried people at my office, so they can afford to give me a little leeway about this pneumonia thing.
So, naturally, I’m on the phone with yet a third person when they open the office and a mess of people get in before me, so I sit and wait another thirty minutes just to get my blood drawn and my order for the CT scan.  Then, I hot-foot it over to the imaging center so I can wait a little more.  Something close to an hour and a half, but they got me in the same day, so it’s not so bad.  Oh, and apparently, my insurance doesn’t cover the CT scan so I had to cough up $450.  Thank God this is a month we get three paychecks!  Normally, I hate getting paid every two weeks, but this month it’s going to work out very well for me.
It was an “open” CT scan, which means it was basically just a donut they passed me through.  But, I had to lay flat on my back.  I got down on my back and immediately started breathing heavy.  The genius tech looked at me and asked if I was having trouble breathing.  I thought, yeah, moron, that’s what the funny look on my face means and why I’m making that strange whistling noise!  But, instead of saying that, I reminded him that I was here because I had pneumonia and probably a lung full of fluid.  So, he told me how the machine was going to ask me to hold my breath and that if I couldn’t, to just let it out slowly and breathe back in slowly, too.  While I couldn’t hold my breath all the way every time, I was able to get by with just a slow exhale to finish out the count for the nice machine overlord.

Now, the doctor didn’t say it, but I’m sure he was checking for cancer, since I have a family history of that.  The tech seemed to think it was just a lung full of fluid from the pneumonia.  I would be surprised at this point if I ended up with cancer.  A bit early for my family, and I’m much more aware of it than anyone else in my family and have made dietary changes to suit my family medical history.  High-fiber and, usually, light on the red meat.  More fish and chicken and even straight vegetarian sometimes.  I know, I know, heresy in Texas, but there you have it.  (Though I have to admit I do have a weakness for bacon.  “Bacon makes it better!”)
So, tomorrow morning at 11:30am, I go see the doctor to get the results.  And, no doubt, several prescriptions to drain the lung and fix whatever else ails me.  Hopefully, I won’t have to go into the hospital to get my lung drained, but whatever the doctor tells me to do, I’ll just do.  Now that I’m under a doctor’s care, it would be foolish to do any less.

What was interesting, though, was the call I got about 1:00pm.  C. had been out to lunch when I finally came back, so she didn’t know I was in the office.  She called on my cell phone to see how I was doing.  She lost her mother to cancer, so she knows why they tend to send folks for CT scans in situations like this.  It was a little surprising to me that she’d get worried.  Honestly, she’d started to get rather predictable, even going back to her old, less-than-kind  boyfriend when she was denied her work-related dating.  Took about as long as I thought it would, too.  Under two weeks.  Predictable.  But, the concern was a bit of a novelty.  She even apologized for not being as good a friend as she should have been when she saw me in person next.
The other surprise was the other girl who started at the same time C. did, O. coming by to check on me.  I don’t think I’ve ever done more than exchange a few pleasantries with her, maybe flirt a little, but she seemed quite genuinely concerned for my health.
Honestly, I had no idea so many people worried about me!  It’s sort of nice to know.  And, I’m sure my mother is relieved to know that people are looking out for me down here, so far away that she can’t.

So, still, no real news yet.  I’m sure I’ll have more tomorrow after seeing the sawbones tomorrow.

Some things never change.

You know, no matter how hard I try, it seems there are just some things about me that never change. Take, for instance, my terrible luck with the opposite sex. Okay, not so much “luck” as the results of a range of poor interpersonal skill and bad choices. Frankly, every time something like this happens, it’s just like Junior High. (I think they call that “Middle School” in Texas.)
There was a girl, naturally, who caught my fancy right at that special time when we were all “changing” and discovering all these new feelings about our opposite member. Her name was Julie. Nice gal, cute, popular, the works. Sadly, I was not cute nor popular. Only I hadn’t figured out that mattered yet. I was a late bloomer. So, throwing most of my caution to the wind, I wrote her a note, no doubt expressing my undying love for her with all the eloquence my little seventh-grade writing skills could muster. I think I can sum it up by saying I wrote something equivalent to “I like you. You’re pretty. Do you like me?”

I was subtle in my delivery of said note. No go between for me! Nope, I bravely told her she dropped something and handed her the note. Then, I believe I practically ran in the opposite direction. Then, for what felt like the next six years, Julie and her friends, the popular girls, all pointed and laughed and made me feel… Well, I guess they didn’t make me feel anything, but what I felt was strange, bad, small, and “less than”. It was a feeling that chased me all through the rest of Junior High and High School, too.
It was that feeling that made me feel good enough to help the cheerleader with her physics homework, but not good enough to be her actual date. No, that was reserved for her boyfriend who was too busy with his Advanced Placement Physics to help her figure out basic physics. Honestly, I doubt she even remembers my name today.
But, that’s pretty well how things played out over those years. I was the nice guy that all the girls felt safe around, and I worked at that, but, as a result, none of them really thought of me “that way”. In retrospect, I wonder how many of them thought I was gay. Regardless, that’s just how things were. No, I’m not whining about that “nice guys finish last” malarkey. It’s not that they didn’t like me, but, somehow, in being safe and careful with them, I just got shuffled off into another category where dating wasn’t a possibility.

So, flash forward about twenty years and several relationships, including one failed marriage. You’d expect that I’d have learned something, right? Apparently not. I discovered that I’ve made an ass of myself again, doing the same things that I did in Junior High.
I put myself out there. I was as real and genuine as I know how to be. I wore my heart on my sleeve. And, I even got a little response. Enough, at least, to keep me hooked. Oh, I put her on the prayer list at church. I prayed for her, at her request. I even sent prayers along to her. (Prayer and my relationship with God is actually a very private intimate thing that I don’t share with a lot of people.) I was caring and I listened to her problems. The whole nine yards. But, Monday morning, when I got into work, I found out she’d been to a Super Bowl party with someone else as her date. Her and her kids.
The guy who squealed had no idea that I was the most likely reason why she’d sworn him to secrecy, or I’m sure he wouldn’t have told me.
I’ll tell you true, faithful readers. I felt like a right jackass. I was embarrassed and ashamed. I was damn mad at myself for getting into that position yet again. And worse, for letting it get to me. And, yes, it really burns me up that after more than twenty years, when I do this to myself, I can still hear Julie and her friends laughing at me.

A friend told me, via e-mail, that it was just my turn to go through this. Again. Just like everyone else. And, honestly, I know that. Deep in my heart, I know he’s right. And, yes, I can hear my very own father saying “In a hundred years, who will care?” And, yes, I know that’s true, too.
But none of that makes it sting less today.
And, yes, just like in Junior High, I want to say something, do something, to make her see, make her understand how unfair it is. How I felt deceived. How I would have handled it all differently if I’d just known from the outset that I wasn’t dateable. But, I know, just like in Junior High, that none of that would be of any use anyway.
Okay, I’m done feeling sorry for myself today.
Thank you.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"Hating people is like burning down your house to get rid of a rat."
   --Harry Emerson Fosdick

(Note: This “post” was written over the space of two long waits in airports after gliding through easy and over-hyped security.)

08/11/06

Well, there wasn’t any free wifi at the airport that I could find, even using a cool new tool I found for Linux called Wifi-Radar. Super slick little proggie that scans for available open wifi networks and automagically attaches you to the network of your choice. Pretty cool. Anyway, security was a breeze. As usual, the blood-sucking, bottom-feeders in the alarmist media totally overhyped the delays. I got Hilda checked in, stopped for gas and slipped into the Park-N-Fly by about 10:45 AM. The shuttle got me to the airport no later than 11:15AM and I was checked in and through security in less than 20 minutes. That’s with an eTicket and a driver’s license that still has my last name misspelled with an extra letter. You’d think that would raise a red flag, right? Hell, it doesn’t even raise a damn eyebrow.

Feeling extra secure yet? So, we hear all kinds of stuff about how bad security is going to be, but, as far as I could see, the only thing added to security was that they were restricting fluids on the plane. Yeah, so, no drinks through security, which, of course, means that everyone was buying drinks in the terminal. I didn’t look at how much I was gouged for my bottle of water and masked the whole cost with a couple of magazines. No Maxim, though. Just PopSci, Scientific American, Men’s Health and Real Simple. You know, I may end up getting a subscription to Real Simple instead of Dwell. It’s more my style. Not quite so avant-garde and infinitely less expensive. I was very glad to have gotten my iPod back, though. And, I even managed to sync all of Tristan und Isolde to it before I took off in the morning. Sadly, I didn’t have quite enough time to create a playlist that let me listen to the entire opera in order, but, still, I have it in there. According to iTunes, I have almost three days worth of continuous music on my Nano. Based on the silly media hype, it sounded like I’d need it, so, I was thrilled.

The one interesting thing was that I was almost on the news. No, not because I tried to sneak something dangerous on the plane. Though, God knows, I have done just that so many times it really makes me question the supposed security training they give those TSA agents. Anyway, there was some cute, Hispanic news chic there with her cameraman interviewing passengers about the virtually non-existent security delays and they saw my “Sunguard Secure, Disaster Recovery Experts” shirt. Right away the camera guy is all “So are you a disaster recovery expert?” and I start laughing at them both. I explain that, yes, I am an IT disaster recovery expert, but not the kind they were looking for. Oh, sure, I could have gone on TV and made a credible security expert, but that’s mainly because I’m well read and I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about security for IT, which includes physical security, not because I’m a real anti-terrorist expert. But, why? Why the hell would I want to have my mug all over the TV news? I hate them, the alarmist fear-mongers always whipping the mass of unwashed humanity into a damn frenzy. Idiots. They’re not journalists anymore, just talking heads. It’s all about jumping on that fear-hype bandwagon, not about reporting real information that people can actually learn something from anymore. I don’t know, maybe it’s time to get a subscription to a local paper again. Ha! “A” local paper, that’s funny, isn’t it? It’s either the Chronicle or an out of town paper, like the Chicago Tribune or the Wall Street Journal. Oh, well, it’s almost all bad news anyway….

08/14/06

Well, here I am again, killing time in an airport waiting for my flight after breezing through security. I can’t tell if it’s just the media blowing things so far out of proportion or just people stupid enough to argue with the TSA agents and trying to break the rules. Honestly, I think it’s the TV news media who have to justify their existance by whipping everyone into a frenzy about the terrorists who weren’t even on US soil. Sure, I’ll grant you, getting blown up in a plane would really ruin my travel plans, but we’ve been living with this since 9/11 and, frankly, I think it’s about time we just adjust to higher security than we used to have. I mean, really, compared to most of the world, we’ve been skating along pretty free and easy. They’ve been dealing with terrorists in Europe for years and the British were more relaxed about this last incident than we were, even though it was their countrymen that were going to be blown up! This is just going to be a fact of life from now on. We need to get past the panic and fear and make our adjustments and move on with our lives, otherwise the terrorists have already won. So, in any case, I glided through security, in spite of not shaving, having a scruffy goatee and being loaded down with electronics. I guess it helps to just blank your face and go with the flow. Not like I have a choice, after all, so I might as well just accept the process and go with it. Seems to make things a lot easier. So, crazy security concerns aside, I had a good visit with the family.

Turns out, my parents were wrong and I wasn’t going to be presenting my nephew with his Eagle award, but it really did seem to mean a lot to him that I was there. Actually, it seemed to mean a lot to everyone to see me. I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised, but I never realized how important I was to my family. Of course, I spent some time setting up my parent’s new laptop and transferring settings and files over from the old one. I first thought that I’d be able to do that via a USB thumb drive, but there was just a little too much there to get onto a single one gig drive, so I had to use the network cable and crossover adapter that I’d brought with me. Good thing I have a little bit of experience being an IT consultant on the road and thought to bring some “extra” stuff I probably wouldn’t need, just in case. Sadly, I forgot to bring the copy of Word that I had for Mom and scratched the first CD of the Works install set, so I’ll have to ship them the CD and walk Mom through the install. Oh, the funny thing about her new laptop is the wireless connection. I cranked up that laptop and found five or six networks in the area with at least two that were unsecured, so I used that to piggy-back to the Internet. I think that ease of use just about convinced her to invest in broadband at their new house when the finally move in. They already have digital phone service through their cable, so I’m pretty sure they’d get a discount on the Internet connection, too. That along with a wireless router would really have them in the modern age of computing. And, I think they’d use their laptop more. Well, at least, Mom would. Dad mainly tells her what he wants and sends her off to do it, but he thinks he’s pretty high-tech, which is kind of funny. Actually, if you ever met either of my parents, it’d amuse you think of either of them being all that high-tech.

Though, somehow, they turned out at least two of us that make our living via technology. That’s just one of many things my brother and I have in common, though… It was nice talking with him some, though, I think we both wouldn’t have minded talking more. Eleven years apart and a vast difference in life experience, but we’re still the same in so many ways. Sadly, we both have many of the same things to fight through and over come. Both shy, each in our own way. Soft-spoken, but determined and, often, very single-minded of purpose. I honestly think that my brother has a PhD. because someone told him he couldn’t do it. We’re funny that way. Sometimes, that’s an asset, but not always.
Still, we often have very similar political views and, talking with my sole niece, Rachel, I was surprised to see how well our philosophies about kids meshed. That “little” girl has grown into quite a young woman. Just barely fifteen, but almost as tall as I am and, thankfully, looking more like her mother every day. I sat with her after her brother’s Eagle Ceremony and talked with her a bit, since I realized I didn’t really know her that well these days. The boys all center on me like iron filings on a magnet and that often seems to leave little room for Rachel. The last time I was home, she spent most of the time with Allison, my former step-daughter, and I didn’t get to talk to her. In any case, I took the opportunity to chat with her about a lot of different things, including driving, boys and her future plans. She didn’t have a boyfriend right now, but she’s already had two, which, at fifteen seemed like a good, slow start. She broke up with the last one, she told me, because he’d been smoking marijuana. Smart girl. Already learned that guys who smoke enough dope lose all motivation and ambition. It’s not just a stereotype. So, she was single, but didn’t seem in a big hurry to find the next guy, which I though was a good attitude, too. When I asked her about school and ideas for a career, she told me she wanted to go into nursing. Like I said, smart girl. It’s a good field and she has the right kind of personality for nursing. Even at fifteen, she was worried about her poor, old Uncle Jim standing when everyone else was sitting at the reception. I was glad for the chance to sit and talk with her. I just wish Allison had more of an opportunity to know her former cousin. I think Rachel would have been a good influence on her. Ah, well, maybe they’ll reconnect one day. Stranger things have happened.

Her little brother, Michael, my youngest nephew, is a whole different animal. This poor kid has no small amount of adversity to overcome. As a little guy, he got repeated ear infections and is, as I recall, legally deaf. But, since he was very small, he’s worn a hearing aid in each ear and does quite well. He has a very slight speech impediment, but he seems to make up for that with enthusiasm and volume. He certainly has no trouble making himself understood when he wants to get a point across! But, he also has a fairly rare back and spine condition that will require him to wear an obviously uncomfortable back brace for most of the next three years. He’s a good kid and doesn’t complain much when his parents tell him to get his brace back on, but it can’t be something he likes to do. I don’t know if any of the kids at school give him trouble for it, but I think his mother has already given her permission to pop the little wiseasses if they do sound off. And, if I ever hear about any grief, I tell you, Mike will have a mean uncle from Texas coming up to crack a couple of skulls for him. He’s a good boy and puts up just a tiny fuss at having to deal with all his physical troubles. And, in spite of all his reasons to be unhappy, I’d say he’s the most gregarious and, well, “jolly” of all my nephews. Always smiling and laughing and joking, even when irritation occasionally creases his forehead, it sure doesn’t cloud his world for very long at all. I know quite a few adults that could learn thing or two from this young man.

Then, there was my “redneck nephew”, as I like to call him.
John Dwight is a big kid. He looks slow and ponderous and even sounds a little thick, but he’s not. He’s a smart kid who lives in a town that doesn’t put much stock into “book learnin'” and it shows. Mainly, I think he’s just not very motivated. I think he sees the futility of his situation. He can only go so far in that little town outside of Rockford, Illinois. After that, if he wants more and bigger opportunities, he’ll have to leave. Based on how his mother and father have dealt with that decision, I doubt he’ll leave. Though, he is talking about enlisting in the military. He claims he wants to be a sniper, but with less than perfect vision, I think that’s not going to quite work out for him. He likes to work on cars, though, and seems to think he can bide his time waiting for the sniper program while being a mechanic. I don’t think he understands the military enough to know that once he starts as a mechanic, he’s likely to stay a mechanic, but, at least he’ll have a skill and a way to make a good living after mustering out. It would be a good way for hime to go.
He shadowed me for most of the time I was working on my Mom’s new laptop. I think partly because he wants to get a shiny, new laptop himself, but also because he’s interested. I talked with him about what I was doing and promised to send him one of the super cheap 1 Gig USB thumb-drives I’d found at MicroCenter and was using. He seemed genuinely excited about that. I’ll send that to him after I get back along with a Knoppix CD, so he can learn a little Linux. If he learns Linux and is still interested, I might send him an old Dell laptop with Redhat or Novell’s free OpenSuSE loaded on it. That would be another direction he could go. A little military experience and a couple of professional certifications and he could really go far.

Finally, my oldest nephew and godson, Bill…
As I write this, he’s on his way to his first year of college. He’ll be a Physics Major at Purdue University. Kid’s going to be a genius PhD, like his father. He has a girlfriend, Jenny, who’s nice enough, but tries a little too hard to be liked. When she forgets to work at it and relaxs, though, she’s a nice kid. Bill and I had a little talk on Friday night when his family came over for dinner. (Mom made “creole chicken”, a soulfood recipie that my grandmother picked up on the Southside of Chicago.) He’s so much like his father that it’s almost scary. I was touched Saturday when I figured out that he really just wanted me at the ceremony because he missed his Uncle Jim. I made sure to give him my cell number and told him he could call for anything but bail money. I hope he takes me up on the offer. I gave him the best advice I could for a Freshman going into that big, wide world of college. “Never go into a weekend without twenty bucks and a condom.” I explained that to him, but those stories will have to wait for another time on the blog. My plane is boarding, so I’m shutting down the laptop. Next stop, Houston!

Update:
Made it home safe and sound. Got my poor Hilda from the vet today. Apparently she barely ate, hid from the “keepers” and generally trusted no one. On the upside, she did learn to use the “doggie door” really well! That’s where she ran to get away from the people who were supposed to pamper her. *sigh* She wouldn’t even eat her home-made treats. Apparently, she just didn’t trust the kenel staff enough to take even the yummiest of muffins from them. (In fact, they said they smelled so good they almost ate some themselves!) She was so excited to see me, I could barely get her car harness on her. She wolfed food when we got home. And treats. And attacked a new rawhide chewie bone I’d gotten her. Well, she’s like her old dad, doesn’t trust anyone new and is loyal to a fault. She’s my dog, sure enough.
Glad to be home. And, finally, after all this time and all this trouble, this is home.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"A woman is like a teabag, you can not tell how strong she is until you put her in hot water."
   --Eleanor Roosevelt

Once again, I’ve agreed to something without realizing it.

Some of my long-time readers and old friends may know that I was a Boy Scout when I was a kid. In fact, I was an Eagle Scout, which is the highest award a boy can earn in Scouting. So was my older brother. We both became Eagles because my father didn’t. Much like going to college, it was just an accepted fact that this was something we were going to do. I don’t think either one of us even stopped to consider an alternative, honestly. Once Dad made up his mind, well, it was just going to happen. It’s a trait his sons learned, too, I’m afraid. Hell, I think his daughters might have picked it up as well. All four of us just tend to drop our heads and charge forward, no matter the odds, once we’ve made up our minds.
In any case, back when I did it, only one out of one-hundred boys in Scouting earned their Eagle. My troop had a slightly higher than normal ratio, but, mostly that percentage proved true. The Eagle Award Ceremony is a fairly big deal in Scouts, in part because of how few boys get it. My brother presented me my Eagle, which was another big deal, both to the Scouts there and my family. I don’t think Dad could have looked prouder. And, I think that event, more than any other, cemented the strange relationship my brother and I have. I admire him not just as a younger brother admires his more accomplished and experienced big brother, but as a man. In many respects, I look up to him as a role-model for the way a modern man should be. Intelligent, caring, concerned with family, loving in his own reserved way, and even funny in a rather unique, cerebral way. My father is from a different era, and I admire him, too, but in an entirely different way. And, I have to admit, there are times that my brother is a hard act to follow. He’s an actual genius, holding a PhD. in Physical Chemistry and responsible for the rewriting of quite a few Chemistry textbooks. Still, he’s my only brother and I love him. And I was extremely honored when he and his wife made me his oldest child’s godfather.

Well, that nephew of mine has finally gotten his Eagle. The award ceremony is coming up Saturday, August 12th. They very much wanted me to be there, but I simply couldn’t afford a ticket and all the other expenses right now. So, my brother bought me a ticket up for the weekend. I’ll be headed up North, home, for the first time in about three years. I certainly appreciated that, but, until Monday night, I couldn’t figure out what the fuss was all about. Then, while on my weekly call to the parental units, my mother enlightened me. Apparently, I’m going to be presenting my godson with his Eagle award! A-ha! Now, finally, the light goes on and I get it. So, I’ll need to get a suit cleaned and my good, white shirts cleaned and pressed. I’m afraid I might even be called on to make a small speech, which terrifies me, but which I’ll handle just fine, as I always seem to do.

Family is a funny thing. I have fought for years not to be a role-model for my nephews. I was so terrified that they’d make all the same mistakes I have and I couldn’t bear that. But, somehow, in fighting to make my own way and in my attempts to teach them not to follow any crazy path I might have taken, I’ve become someone important to them. That mythical, crazy uncle who took off for Texas in ’98. The wild-card. Strangely enough, somehow, the lovable rogue-adventurer who’s out there, somewhere, doing things his own way.
So, for a change, I don’t mind being Shanghaied into a little public speaking and, if I’m lucky, some admiration from a couple of incredible young men.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"When I look into the future, it's so bright it burns my eyes."
   --Oprah Winfrey

My house has become the Augean-Stable of suburban Texas.

LK has been very busy with her business lately and, as a consequence, has little time for me, but I haven’t been letting the time go to waste. Now that my roommate is gone, and I have no one else to blame for my mess, I’ve been cleaning. This is a much larger task than it would seem at first glance. In the past week, I’ve only managed to get three rooms mostly cleaned up: the kitchen, the bathroom and the living room. The kitchen, of course, got a little extra help from LK, who was in catering for 15+ years and couldn’t stand the horrible state I’d let things devolve into. I finished that and have maintained it quite nicely, though the floor could use a good scrubbing. I haven’t scrubbed the floor in the kitchen, though, because I spent that energy scrubbing the bathroom floor instead.

The living room has proven to be both quite a challenge and quite rewarding to clean as well. Clutter was my main enemy there. There is a price to pay for worshiping the written word: it tends to build up like sedimentary rock. I’ve spent the past four or five days going through more than five years worth of Wired, Writer’s Digest and assorted other magazines. Most got simply thrown out, of course, but I culled some good articles from others. I still have a short stack to finish going through. Some of what’s left have an article or two that I want to read, but don’t want to save. Others I still have to make a decision about keeping or discarding. If I’m in doubt, I’ve been opting for discard just to make room for something new. I seem to recall that someone told me the reason they call them “periodicals” is because, periodically, they should be thrown away. That’s some good advice!

Speaking of advice, I’m down to a single, regular magazine subscription : Wired. I let my Writer’s Digest run out and, after reviewing several year’s worth, I know I made a good decision. All the writing advice in those magazines repeats about every eighteen months. In that space of time, you can count on any topic being brought up again at least once. Besides, I have all that advice in books already. And, I’ve read most of it at least twice, if not more than twice. But, I like to have stimulating new ideas cycle through my house and brain, so I’m thinking about starting another subscription. I’ve started a poll on the sidebar so you all can offer your suggestions and vote on my thoughts. Please, help me!

Oh, now I’m off to an Independence Day picnic with the Prayer Mafia, er, “Team”, so you all enjoy your fireworks and be safe!

Speaking of music…
Some time ago, I mentioned buying a bunch of CDs at my favorite bookstore. Several of them were “local” talent, though, I think that covers a pretty broad geographic area. Anyway, I’ve finally listened to them enough to get a good feel for their sound and I’m totally ready to give you all a review. Or, at least, as ready as I’ll ever be.
The four CDs are To the Afterglow by SiennaBlu , Dance Cry Swing by Eileen Faxas, and The Storms Inside and A Little Gun Shy, both by Brian Douglas.

SiennaBlu reminds me of an unholy cross between Bon Jovi, REM and a high-school garage band. Though, they’re not bad at all, they do sound very raw and unpolished. There’s a lot of heart in their music, but, well, not much else. Don’t pay full price.

Dance Cry Swing by Eileen Faxas, though, is pretty good. This looks to be her first CD, but, if she keeps at it, she could be the Texas version of Gloria Estefan. No, really, her work has the same kind of sound and rythym. It’s not all that remarkable at this stage, but, you can see the potential here.

Of all these four, though, the two by Brian Douglas are my favorites. I have to admit, when I first got them, I didn’t realize they were the same guy. I purchased the second one, A Little Gun Shy, days after the first and just didn’t make the connection, until I heard the music. Douglas has a really personal sound, reminds me of Aqualung, a little bit, but with a lot heavier American influence. Mainly a balladeer, at least on these two CDs, his voice grabs hold of you and drags you down the paths of his memories, painful and joyful alike.