It's great to be home. Even though I have a wild day ahead of me at work, it starts from the comfort of home and family.
Spring is sprung and all that. We have the window open overnight and the birds are getting louder by the day. It's nice to see the green showing up on the front lawn. The ground is very dry, so the new growth isn't bursting forth, but it's making progress. We may get some much-needed showers this evening and tomorrow. The dawn was red this morning.
One report concludes that spring in New England starts a week earlier than it did 150 years ago. Meteorological trend analysis is very challenging because 150 years are but a flicker in the earth's timescale. Nevertheless, it's clear that something is happening, even if our attempts to find a cause get all tangled up in our politics and economics.
Besides, New England has enough quirks and foibles, as show in the Strange New England web site, that, as the old song goes, believe half of what you see and none of what you hear.
I was on a conference call yesterday morning. One of the participants lives in Indiana, so we talked for a couple of minutes about this weekend's time change. For the first time in a long time, all counties in Indiana will observe daylight saving time. Not only is the state in two time zones, but the counties have been able to determine if they wanted to observe daylight saving time or not. The workarounds that the computer folks had developed to keep computer clocks in synch now no longer work.
Last night Sandra and I watched a PBS show that included a tour of a Washington D.C. historical site that is currently undergoing renovations. Interesting material. The guide, however, a U.S. Park Ranger, said the word "actually" at least 10 times in the four minute segment. (I counted 10, but there may have been one or two before I started counting.) The only times that I don't cringe when someone uses actually or actual is if that person is singing Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah. Then, pretty much everything is forgiven.
This hardware and software is intended to assist people with autism learn about social cues and interaction by providing indications when the other person appears to be getting bored or annoyed. I can also imagine a time when such a device would be standard issue for people in the workplace. Most nerds roll right over folks, barely noticing if the other person knows or cares what they're talking about. (Via.)
Friday, March 31, 2006
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
The view from Westchester County
I'm back in New York for a few days for training, my personal development goal for this quarter. It's been nearly 20 years since I've taken a programming course. So far, I'm keeping pace. It's a scripting course instead of a pure programming course, but few people in the course could tell you the difference.
This trip is more draining than most. I made the commitment to be here about a month ago, but really wish that I could be at home. I talk with Sandra a couple of times during the day and had a nice IM chat with Krista last evening, but it would still be better to be home.
The hotel continues its gentle decline toward its future as Fred and Ethel's Cadillac Motel and Bait Shop. The heat didn't work in my room yesterday morning. The latch on the window is missing a couple of screws. It's the not-caring about the little things that makes the difference.
A couple more notes on hitchhiking from Mondays's post. The first time that I hitchhiked anyplace was when I was 14. My father was working construction at UMass in Amherst and my mother was taking a summer course. I'd often go to the campus and hang out, sit in the student union, drink coffee, read newspapers, play songs on the jukebox, and watch people. One afternoon, I got bored and decided to go back to the camp, about 35 miles away. I left a note in my mother's car and headed out. I don't remember anything of the rides themselves, except that I got there safely and quickly enough.
Of course, if one of our grandkids who are in the 14-year-old range decided to hitchhike without permission, I would expect that the kid would be grounded until the Singularity.
On the trip to Toronto, we had some trouble getting through the border. The Vietnam War was on and there was a steady stream of young men crossing into Canada to avoid the draft. In fact, we were going to visit one, a guy who had come home on leave from the Army and slipped into Canada. He was working as a reporter for a left-wing paper. Canada was having its own crises at the time as turbulence among the Québec separatists would lead to the kidnapping and murder of the vice-premier and the suspensions of civil liberties in Québec. Me? After a week or so in Toronto, I got out of town, catching a rider with a trucker to Montréal and then re-entering the States at Swanton VT. The rest is kind of blurry. As David Crosby is credited with saying, if you can remember the 60s, you probably weren't there.
It was winter, so we weren't carrying bees. Now, even in the good weather, we can't bring bees from the states (except Hawaii) into Canada.
Grady Booch is a really smart guy. A few years ago, I spent a day working on a project at his house. He has the kind of workspace that you'd expect from an ÜberNerd - massive table, bookshelves on every non-windowed wall, wired and wireless networking, and, of course, Grady, who does his best work with 5"x7" index cards. He travels with the elite of technical world and, occasionally, touching the world of politics. Here, he tells the story of a meeting with Caspar Weinberger. The closest that I can get to that is remembering that my high school principal mispronounced my name at my graduation.
I offer this one without comment: a study reports that men read the news to stoke their anger, while women go to the news to chill out. (via)
That sound that you hear is the crunching of mental gears as depressives learn that eating chocolate can make your depression worse.
A sad note this morning: a former teacher at my high school and, later, a co-worker at a couple of high tech companies passed away on Monday. He was 64.
This trip is more draining than most. I made the commitment to be here about a month ago, but really wish that I could be at home. I talk with Sandra a couple of times during the day and had a nice IM chat with Krista last evening, but it would still be better to be home.
The hotel continues its gentle decline toward its future as Fred and Ethel's Cadillac Motel and Bait Shop. The heat didn't work in my room yesterday morning. The latch on the window is missing a couple of screws. It's the not-caring about the little things that makes the difference.
A couple more notes on hitchhiking from Mondays's post. The first time that I hitchhiked anyplace was when I was 14. My father was working construction at UMass in Amherst and my mother was taking a summer course. I'd often go to the campus and hang out, sit in the student union, drink coffee, read newspapers, play songs on the jukebox, and watch people. One afternoon, I got bored and decided to go back to the camp, about 35 miles away. I left a note in my mother's car and headed out. I don't remember anything of the rides themselves, except that I got there safely and quickly enough.
Of course, if one of our grandkids who are in the 14-year-old range decided to hitchhike without permission, I would expect that the kid would be grounded until the Singularity.
On the trip to Toronto, we had some trouble getting through the border. The Vietnam War was on and there was a steady stream of young men crossing into Canada to avoid the draft. In fact, we were going to visit one, a guy who had come home on leave from the Army and slipped into Canada. He was working as a reporter for a left-wing paper. Canada was having its own crises at the time as turbulence among the Québec separatists would lead to the kidnapping and murder of the vice-premier and the suspensions of civil liberties in Québec. Me? After a week or so in Toronto, I got out of town, catching a rider with a trucker to Montréal and then re-entering the States at Swanton VT. The rest is kind of blurry. As David Crosby is credited with saying, if you can remember the 60s, you probably weren't there.
It was winter, so we weren't carrying bees. Now, even in the good weather, we can't bring bees from the states (except Hawaii) into Canada.
Grady Booch is a really smart guy. A few years ago, I spent a day working on a project at his house. He has the kind of workspace that you'd expect from an ÜberNerd - massive table, bookshelves on every non-windowed wall, wired and wireless networking, and, of course, Grady, who does his best work with 5"x7" index cards. He travels with the elite of technical world and, occasionally, touching the world of politics. Here, he tells the story of a meeting with Caspar Weinberger. The closest that I can get to that is remembering that my high school principal mispronounced my name at my graduation.
I offer this one without comment: a study reports that men read the news to stoke their anger, while women go to the news to chill out. (via)
That sound that you hear is the crunching of mental gears as depressives learn that eating chocolate can make your depression worse.
A sad note this morning: a former teacher at my high school and, later, a co-worker at a couple of high tech companies passed away on Monday. He was 64.
Monday, March 27, 2006
Travel, as it was and as it is
When I was checking out of my hotel last Friday, I tried to use the automated system that you access through the television. After clicking through a half dozen menu selections, I get to this 404 page. A 404, in web parlance, is the error message means Page Not Found. The system could find the specific page that it was supposed to display and so puts up this default page instead.
The trip home was uneventful, except that it was another full flight. I had the middle seat in the very last row. There was cloud cover over central Massachusetts, so I couldn't see the camp or Mt. Wachusett as we followed Route 2 on our approach to Logan.
As I travel more, my sentiments toward my fellow travelers have soften. These are not intrinsically mean-spirited, self-centered, or feral people. They are, just like me, trying to get someplace and are working overly hard to make this alien world conform to something they can understand. So, after I left the airport and headed out on I-90, it was a nice Welcome Home touch to have someone cut me off at the toll booth.
I'm fortunate that I can drive or fly as I want or need to. For one job, working the graveyard shift, I would get off of work at 7AM, go home, sleep a bit, and then hitchhike to the restaurant so that I could borrow a car from someone working the evening shift, and then go back home until it was time for work. That way I didn't have to rely on hitchhiking at 10 at night. Hitchhiking is an unpredictable mode of transportation. A 10-mile trip could take anywhere from 15 minutes to however long it would take to walk 10 miles, not a good plan if you're trying to get to work on time.
My hitchhiker tales aren't terribly exciting. My longest trip was to Toronto and back (through) Montreal. We took a bus for part of the trip after spending all night standing at the entrance ramp to the New York Thruway. It was early January and the temperature was below zero for the whole night, warming up at dawn so that it could snow. Other trips were of the 50-200 mile variety. I never felt in great danger and never rode with anyone too much weirder than me. During the winter I could tuck my long hair under a knit cap so I would have a better chance of getting a ride. This writer provides some good tips for those few hitchhikers on the road these days. It's been a long time since I've traveled anyplace by thumb and almost as long since I picked up hitchhiker.
Haven't put enough into your IRA to retire comfortably? No problem. We now have learned that pet food is pretty good for you, better than most take-out offerings. Of course, no brand of cat or dog food has made it onto the list of the world's healthiest foods.
Why go to Easter Island when Dublin, Ohio is so close?
The trip home was uneventful, except that it was another full flight. I had the middle seat in the very last row. There was cloud cover over central Massachusetts, so I couldn't see the camp or Mt. Wachusett as we followed Route 2 on our approach to Logan.
As I travel more, my sentiments toward my fellow travelers have soften. These are not intrinsically mean-spirited, self-centered, or feral people. They are, just like me, trying to get someplace and are working overly hard to make this alien world conform to something they can understand. So, after I left the airport and headed out on I-90, it was a nice Welcome Home touch to have someone cut me off at the toll booth.
I'm fortunate that I can drive or fly as I want or need to. For one job, working the graveyard shift, I would get off of work at 7AM, go home, sleep a bit, and then hitchhike to the restaurant so that I could borrow a car from someone working the evening shift, and then go back home until it was time for work. That way I didn't have to rely on hitchhiking at 10 at night. Hitchhiking is an unpredictable mode of transportation. A 10-mile trip could take anywhere from 15 minutes to however long it would take to walk 10 miles, not a good plan if you're trying to get to work on time.
My hitchhiker tales aren't terribly exciting. My longest trip was to Toronto and back (through) Montreal. We took a bus for part of the trip after spending all night standing at the entrance ramp to the New York Thruway. It was early January and the temperature was below zero for the whole night, warming up at dawn so that it could snow. Other trips were of the 50-200 mile variety. I never felt in great danger and never rode with anyone too much weirder than me. During the winter I could tuck my long hair under a knit cap so I would have a better chance of getting a ride. This writer provides some good tips for those few hitchhikers on the road these days. It's been a long time since I've traveled anyplace by thumb and almost as long since I picked up hitchhiker.
Haven't put enough into your IRA to retire comfortably? No problem. We now have learned that pet food is pretty good for you, better than most take-out offerings. Of course, no brand of cat or dog food has made it onto the list of the world's healthiest foods.
Why go to Easter Island when Dublin, Ohio is so close?
Sunday, March 26, 2006
It's time for spring, whatever time it is
The snow flurries have stopped, the forsythia are showing a hint of color, and a bit of sunshine is peeking through. The ground, however, is still mostly frozen. We can't call it spring without the mud.
Nevertheless, some places, such as Europe, including the UK, are changing their clocks to Daylight Saving Time this week. Others, such as Australia, are not changing back to standard time because it might bring confusion to the Commonwealth Games, preferring instead to bring confusion to most of their computers. Next weekend, the U.S. will change, except for Arizona, Hawaii, and selected counties in Indiana. (The Navajo nation observes DST because it's spread over three states, one of them Arizona.) All this when there is little data to prove that DST saves any energy and much to suggest that people use more energy (drive) with the increased evening daylight. GMT is fine with me.
The travelers returned in good form yesterday afternoon. The house and other buildings survived the winter well. They left Canada before the start of the Great Seal Guts Battle of 2006. (It wouldn't surprise me if you didn't follow the link tot the story. The short version is that the losers, as always, are the seals.)
The votes are in regarding iPods in the workplace. They're OK or maybe not.
Of course, we could be in Denmark.
Want beef with your Rice Krispies? Didn't think so, particularly if you are a member of the Hare Krsna Society.Well, the same article reports that you can snack on unfrosted Pop-Tarts, even though the law may not let you hang around airport terminals anymore. (I have met a couple in Chicago's O'Hare airport.)
On the other end of the spectrum, my automated search for a technical documentation job found a listing for Director of Research and Development for Buffalo Wild Wings.
And, finally, in the "Lowells talk only to the Cabots and the Cabots talk only to God" Dept., we learn that 'Executive' monkeys are influenced by other executives and not by subordinates. Where are you on the monkey bars?
Nevertheless, some places, such as Europe, including the UK, are changing their clocks to Daylight Saving Time this week. Others, such as Australia, are not changing back to standard time because it might bring confusion to the Commonwealth Games, preferring instead to bring confusion to most of their computers. Next weekend, the U.S. will change, except for Arizona, Hawaii, and selected counties in Indiana. (The Navajo nation observes DST because it's spread over three states, one of them Arizona.) All this when there is little data to prove that DST saves any energy and much to suggest that people use more energy (drive) with the increased evening daylight. GMT is fine with me.
The travelers returned in good form yesterday afternoon. The house and other buildings survived the winter well. They left Canada before the start of the Great Seal Guts Battle of 2006. (It wouldn't surprise me if you didn't follow the link tot the story. The short version is that the losers, as always, are the seals.)
The votes are in regarding iPods in the workplace. They're OK or maybe not.
Of course, we could be in Denmark.
Want beef with your Rice Krispies? Didn't think so, particularly if you are a member of the Hare Krsna Society.Well, the same article reports that you can snack on unfrosted Pop-Tarts, even though the law may not let you hang around airport terminals anymore. (I have met a couple in Chicago's O'Hare airport.)
On the other end of the spectrum, my automated search for a technical documentation job found a listing for Director of Research and Development for Buffalo Wild Wings.
And, finally, in the "Lowells talk only to the Cabots and the Cabots talk only to God" Dept., we learn that 'Executive' monkeys are influenced by other executives and not by subordinates. Where are you on the monkey bars?
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