This week in New York, I've had meetings with J., one of our senior software architects. We're trying to clarify some of the processes associated with the way that we build and release our products. The fun part is that, along with writing the process manual, I have the chance to contribute some code. I'm a bit reticent, however, about telling my boss. Even though this is much needed work for the current release, I also have enough other work to drown a giraffe.
English is not the native language for this architect. His is a Yiddish/Russian accent, very pleasant to listen to. He speaks well and has good command of English, but idioms sometimes take him by surprise. In meetings that were addressing the competetive challenges ahead for our company, someone used the phrase, "It's a dog-eat-dog world." J. heard "Doggie Dog," which made no sense, nor did the rest of the meeting make sense because of that one odd phrase. He finally did ask another meeting-goer, who explained the phrase, enunciating clearly.
A few weeks ago, I received a letter informing me that I had achieved gold status in this hotel chain's frequent-stayer program. As a result of my elite rating, I now qualify for a gold-colored strip of paper that describes one of the amenities that I've been receiving all along. I just hadn't received the strip of paper before.
"Enjoy your sleep amenities," said the clerk when I'd completed the check-in process.
In a creepier occurrence, I tried to go down the stairway to leave the building by the back way. I'd been sitting all day and the walk down the stairs did me some good. I followed the emergency exit signs to the bottom. The door was jammed shut. I went back to the lobby and spoke to a clerk about this dangerous situation. He was more interested in letting me know that the other exit door was alarmed. I'll go back to the first stairwell today. If the door is not fixed, my next call will be to the city's building inspector.
Would you buy Reese's Peanut Butter Lip Balm? If you can't find it in your local stores, eBay can bring this magical palliative to your weary lips.
No Amnety: This picture has made its way around the Internet in the last few days. My first suspicion was that someone altered the picture with Photoshop or similar photo editing product. The site that's hosting the picture is the web site for The Republic, a newspaper in Columbus, Indiana. Access to the paper's archives are restricted to subscribers. I was able to get at letters to the editor, written the day after the photo was printed, indicating that the writers were seeing what we can see.
As I drove from my father's house to the camp recently, I passed by Ronnie's house. Ronnie moved to the midwest quite a while ago. I've lost track of what happened to his brother,
Jerry, and his parents. The large field next to Ronnie's house was our football field and baseball field. None of us went on to play sports in high school, so it was just a place for kids to have fun. The field now is on its way to becoming woods. I still see a field there.
Ronnie was a drummer, sometimes in rock-and-roll bands, more often in competitive drum corps. For his practice, he would play along with records. From his collection, I first heard the Yardbirds, playing "For Your Love," and the Shadows of Knight, playing a cover of a Van Morrison/Them tune, "Gloria."
So, in rock-and-roll bands in the 60s, we play Gloria and we played Louie Louie, by The Kingsmen. (As Bono would later explain it all, "All I got is a red guitar, three chords, and the truth.") What we lacked in talent we filled with earnestness. Anyway, as most of you know, Louie Louie was a controversial song in its time. Controversial because no one could understand a word of what the singer was singing. And, because no one could understand what he was singing, parents feared and kids hoped that the lyrics were dirty. Enter the FBI. Here are some of the files that the FBI collected about this venerable song. (Caution - some of the pages do contain language and descriptions that might be offensive.) Here are the real lyrics, according to the president of the record company. The FBI, with all the resources that the agency could bring, determined that it couldn't understand a word of what the singer was singing.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
North by northeast, north by northwest, southwest, and east
Sandra and Krista went to PEI on Thursday. When our grandchildren turn 10, Sandra takes them on a trip to the Island. They fly out Boston early, stop over in Halifax (long enough for a massage at the terminal, and then take one short flight to Charlottetown, where Woody and Marian meet them.
Thursday night's meal was the Whim Inn at Poole's Corner. The waitress who served this hungry crew was the same one who served us five years ago. The rolls are so big that it would take an African swallow to carry them. The meals are straight down the alley and good. (I might, however, give the liver and onions a miss. When my mother served liver, as she often did, the cat and I had a special arrangement - I'd drop a piece of liver on the floor and he'd eat it.)
On Friday, Woody and Krista went to local fishing spot. Krista caught three large Rainbow trout and learned how to clean them. Those trout were Friday night's supper.
On Saturday they went to a cousin's for afternoon tea and then to the local church for their annual lobster supper. The small church collects more than $10,000 in less than four hours, not bad in a village of 400 people.
Between the meals, there was fun in every corner. Krista brought her piano music, so she, Marian, and Sandra played and sang for a long time. There were card games, Monopoly, walks on the beach to collect shells. Woody and Marian are lovingly generous with their gifts and attention.
Sunday morning, on the 50km drive from Cardigan to the Charlottetown airport, they didn't pass a car. Sandra and Krista this time flew from Charlottetown to Toronto. After navigating the massive Pearson Airport, they went through U.S. customs, and then learned that the airline didn't have a pilot for the plane. When Sandra called me with this news, I went to the Massport (Boston) web site and signed up for flight notifications. The would send me email when the flight was rescheduled and when it would land. An hour and a half after we'd left Logan Airport and were in Mike and Lynn's back yard, I got an email saying that the plane had landed.
Just as Sandra and Krista were arriving in Charlottetown on Thursday, one of the storied shopping attractions was closing.
Dell had an insert in the Sunday papers. They offered a range of deals for household and business use. One system, the OptiplexTM GX520 Desktop for $599. Below the price was this mind-twizzler:
Dual-core capable business desktop; features managed transitions and average 15-month life cycles.I know what dual-core means, but managed transitions has me baffled and 15-month life cycles, if it's what I think it is (replace this machine every 15 months) is absolutely goofy. Whatever it means, Strunk and White surrender.
So, it's back to work after a restful long weekend. I can't imagine that this week can be more bizarre than last, but I couldn't imagine last week, either. One snippet - I was part of team from our company and a customer, working on a design document. We had a six and one-half hour conference call on Thursday. And the end of the meeting, around 4:30, one of the engineers said that she had some more information for me and would send it within the hour. At 6:15, she calls to say that she had been side-tracked on some other issues. "I wasn't able to get my work done," she said. "You'll still be able to have your work done by nine in the morning, won't you?"
We have lilies of the valley along the back corner of the MacGregors' part of the house. The fragrance is strong and sweet. Even a handful of blossoms will fill a room.
The weekend was restful, but also somber, of course, as we remember those who died in service and those who died as the result of their service.
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