8.31.2013
8.30.2013
Password Management
I hate passwords. More accurately, I hate password maintenance policies.
I understand the significance of passwords, and the ever important need of strong passwords. Almost all of my personal information is stored online in one way or another; my health records, bank statements, emails, photos, etc. Any combination of these can provide access to even more information over time. Password-cracking programs have grown sophisticated over the years, and increased processor speeds mean even a basic laptop is capable of cracking a simple password in a matter of hours.
I get it. I need a strong password. I even get why I need to change them from time to time, and why I need different passwords for different sites.
But it is just SO difficult to remember which passwords I use for various sites. And it becomes even more difficult to remember which passwords I've used in the past.
My company, like almost all companies, has a policy on how long passwords need to be, how many different kinds of characters they need to have, and how infrequently I can reuse passwords. I won't post the actual policy here; I would hate to offer hackers any real visibility into the nature of passwords at my company, but I assure you that the rules are complex.
I had to change my password today to comply with the policy. No... it isn't 12345. That would be the combination to the air vault in Spaceballs.
Since changing my password this morning, I have already forgotten to type it a handful of times. I keep trying my last one. I usually get to the point just before I hit enter when I realize I changed it.
My backspace key is getting a workout. Having Monday off for Labor Day, it will probably take me all of next week before the new password becomes rote.
Just in time for me to change it again.
I understand the significance of passwords, and the ever important need of strong passwords. Almost all of my personal information is stored online in one way or another; my health records, bank statements, emails, photos, etc. Any combination of these can provide access to even more information over time. Password-cracking programs have grown sophisticated over the years, and increased processor speeds mean even a basic laptop is capable of cracking a simple password in a matter of hours.
I get it. I need a strong password. I even get why I need to change them from time to time, and why I need different passwords for different sites.
But it is just SO difficult to remember which passwords I use for various sites. And it becomes even more difficult to remember which passwords I've used in the past.
My company, like almost all companies, has a policy on how long passwords need to be, how many different kinds of characters they need to have, and how infrequently I can reuse passwords. I won't post the actual policy here; I would hate to offer hackers any real visibility into the nature of passwords at my company, but I assure you that the rules are complex.
I had to change my password today to comply with the policy. No... it isn't 12345. That would be the combination to the air vault in Spaceballs.
Since changing my password this morning, I have already forgotten to type it a handful of times. I keep trying my last one. I usually get to the point just before I hit enter when I realize I changed it.
My backspace key is getting a workout. Having Monday off for Labor Day, it will probably take me all of next week before the new password becomes rote.
Just in time for me to change it again.
Grayson: First Blood
As a parent, you are theoretically aware that certain things will most certainly happen throughout the course of your child's life. They will walk and talk. They will go to school. They will learn to drive, then they will get into a car accident. They will fall in love (hopefully) and have their heart broken. They will learn and grow; they will make mistakes. They will fall. They will scrape a knee. They will bleed.
But nothing can quite prepare you to see their blood for the first time.
Last night, Stacy and I were preparing to head out to the State Fair for a second time this year. We were going to take Grayson back, so he could see some things he hadn't seen yet, and so we could see some things we didn't get a chance to look at with a full family in tow. I was trying, as quickly as possible, to change into some shorts and pack Grayson's diaper bag. Stacy was upstairs changing. I did what I've done a hundred times; I put Grayson down on the floor of the family room in front of his toys. I didn't think twice about him. I was on the couch about to put on my shoes when I caught him from the corner of my eye toppling over an inflated cylinder (with bells that jingle as you roll it).
Grayson fell face first into the carpet. I think his pacifier may have been in his mouth. He stopped his fall with his teeth. There was a slight pause. Then he began to cry, face still buried in the carpet. Stacy had come back downstairs by now, and she picked him up to comfort him. At this point, neither of us thought he had hurt himself. I'm sure he falls at least twice a day.
But then I looked at his face. There was blood on both sides of his mouth. His gums were bloody. One of his front teeth looked off, but it might have just been the blood. I tried not to panic. After we cleaned him up a bit and gave him some ibuprofen, I called our dentist. I was reassured that these things happen, and that his teeth are probably just fine. Even better, our dentist will be up north this weekend should we need to have Grayson checked out. (I love Dr. Pink by the way... great dentist. Crimson Dental in Maple Grove.)
So we can check a new milestone off the list. Grayson: First Blood - August 29, 2013.
I think we all survived.
But nothing can quite prepare you to see their blood for the first time.
Last night, Stacy and I were preparing to head out to the State Fair for a second time this year. We were going to take Grayson back, so he could see some things he hadn't seen yet, and so we could see some things we didn't get a chance to look at with a full family in tow. I was trying, as quickly as possible, to change into some shorts and pack Grayson's diaper bag. Stacy was upstairs changing. I did what I've done a hundred times; I put Grayson down on the floor of the family room in front of his toys. I didn't think twice about him. I was on the couch about to put on my shoes when I caught him from the corner of my eye toppling over an inflated cylinder (with bells that jingle as you roll it).
Grayson fell face first into the carpet. I think his pacifier may have been in his mouth. He stopped his fall with his teeth. There was a slight pause. Then he began to cry, face still buried in the carpet. Stacy had come back downstairs by now, and she picked him up to comfort him. At this point, neither of us thought he had hurt himself. I'm sure he falls at least twice a day.
But then I looked at his face. There was blood on both sides of his mouth. His gums were bloody. One of his front teeth looked off, but it might have just been the blood. I tried not to panic. After we cleaned him up a bit and gave him some ibuprofen, I called our dentist. I was reassured that these things happen, and that his teeth are probably just fine. Even better, our dentist will be up north this weekend should we need to have Grayson checked out. (I love Dr. Pink by the way... great dentist. Crimson Dental in Maple Grove.)
So we can check a new milestone off the list. Grayson: First Blood - August 29, 2013.
I think we all survived.
8.28.2013
Wednesday... or Tuesday. I'm behind!
I threw this particular post up on Wednesday as a placeholder. I failed to do even that on Tuesday.
The week has quickly flown by, every night seeming busier than the last. It really just boils down to the fact that I haven't carved out time during my evenings to write anything. By the time I'm able to sit down and write, my eyes are heavy, and all I want to do is veg out or go to sleep.
I'm hoping that I can get back on track this weekend, but we are headed to the fair tonight then up to the lake tomorrow, so who knows when I will find time.
I think I'm 3 posts behind, but I'll double-check.
Overall, though, I think I've managed to accomplish my goal, at least for the first 3+ months. I'm writing almost every day, and I feel good about that.
The week has quickly flown by, every night seeming busier than the last. It really just boils down to the fact that I haven't carved out time during my evenings to write anything. By the time I'm able to sit down and write, my eyes are heavy, and all I want to do is veg out or go to sleep.
I'm hoping that I can get back on track this weekend, but we are headed to the fair tonight then up to the lake tomorrow, so who knows when I will find time.
I think I'm 3 posts behind, but I'll double-check.
Overall, though, I think I've managed to accomplish my goal, at least for the first 3+ months. I'm writing almost every day, and I feel good about that.
8.26.2013
The Smell of Death
Today, the temperature reached 98 degrees in the Twin Cities setting a record high for this date that had lasted 65 years (1948). With the heat index, it felt closer to 110 degrees. The low for the day was 79 degrees. This is my way of saying today was HOT! It was the kind of heat that takes your breath away, and it makes me so thankful that I can afford air conditioning.
But not everyone can afford it, nor do they have the means to stay cool. Heat-related illnesses were reported throughout the state today, and I wouldn't be surprises if a few people actually died from it.
Animals are no strangers to heat-related deaths. Including some sort of small animal that made its way into my attic but couldn't make its way back out.
Stacy and I got home to find the upstairs bathroom permeated with a stench that can only be brought about by rotting and heat. It was stronger closer to the ceiling. Something had clearly died in the attic, and the heat wave was cooking it in the rafters.
Our first thought was something crawled into our vent stack, so I climbed up on the roof, covered in black shingles, while the air temperature was still well above 90 degrees. Much to my dismay, I didn't find anything but a clear pipe. I went back inside, grabbed a glass of water, and I mentally prepared for the task ahead of me.
I was heading up into the attic.
When temps push 100 degrees outside, even a well-ventilated attic will get into the 120s and 130s. Because we have blown fiberglass insulation in our attic, I needed to make sure I was covered head to toe before I went up there. I put on some jeans, a hooded sweatshirt and some gloves. I wriggled my way up a ladder in my closet through the access point and into the sauna of darkness. Our roof pitch isn't tall enough for me to stand, so I crawled from the access point to the ceiling above the bathroom. The insulation not only kept the searing heat from my house, it also kept any odors at bay... this is both good (in that I didn't throw up in my attic) and bad (in that I couldn't use my nose to locate the carcass).
After searching for maybe only 10 minutes, I had to get out of there. I was a puddle of sweat, and I couldn't catch my breath. I was unable to find whatever had died buried in the insulation. The only thing I can do for the rest of tonight is bring some coal into the bathroom to act as an odor-eater.
Pray for me that I'm able to find it without tearing into my ceiling. Pray for the soul of this little creature that it act as a warning to its family and friends. Pray for this heat wave to pass...
But not everyone can afford it, nor do they have the means to stay cool. Heat-related illnesses were reported throughout the state today, and I wouldn't be surprises if a few people actually died from it.
Animals are no strangers to heat-related deaths. Including some sort of small animal that made its way into my attic but couldn't make its way back out.
Stacy and I got home to find the upstairs bathroom permeated with a stench that can only be brought about by rotting and heat. It was stronger closer to the ceiling. Something had clearly died in the attic, and the heat wave was cooking it in the rafters.
Our first thought was something crawled into our vent stack, so I climbed up on the roof, covered in black shingles, while the air temperature was still well above 90 degrees. Much to my dismay, I didn't find anything but a clear pipe. I went back inside, grabbed a glass of water, and I mentally prepared for the task ahead of me.
I was heading up into the attic.
When temps push 100 degrees outside, even a well-ventilated attic will get into the 120s and 130s. Because we have blown fiberglass insulation in our attic, I needed to make sure I was covered head to toe before I went up there. I put on some jeans, a hooded sweatshirt and some gloves. I wriggled my way up a ladder in my closet through the access point and into the sauna of darkness. Our roof pitch isn't tall enough for me to stand, so I crawled from the access point to the ceiling above the bathroom. The insulation not only kept the searing heat from my house, it also kept any odors at bay... this is both good (in that I didn't throw up in my attic) and bad (in that I couldn't use my nose to locate the carcass).
After searching for maybe only 10 minutes, I had to get out of there. I was a puddle of sweat, and I couldn't catch my breath. I was unable to find whatever had died buried in the insulation. The only thing I can do for the rest of tonight is bring some coal into the bathroom to act as an odor-eater.
Pray for me that I'm able to find it without tearing into my ceiling. Pray for the soul of this little creature that it act as a warning to its family and friends. Pray for this heat wave to pass...
Date Night
Saturday night, Stacy and I were surprised with a date night! I don't remember how long it had been since we had gone out for a nice dinner, just the two of us... we made last-minute reservations at 8:00 for Sunsets in Wayzata (pronounced why-Zet-ah for those of you out of state). We ate outside on the patio, our table facing Wayzata Bay on Lake Minnetonka. I had a ribeye; Stacy had shrimp. Adult beverages were consumed, and we actually had an adult conversation that lasted longer than a few minutes. It was the perfect end to a perfect day.
How did this come about? I have a very flexible mother and aunt!
Stacy and I will be taking a trip in October to visit my sister, Jen in New York City. Even though Jen has lived there for five years already, we haven't been out to see her yet for a whole host of reasons (excuses). The trip is long overdue. My mother and aunt have agreed to watch Grayson while we are away, but they had not yet experienced the joy of an overnight with Mr. G. A few weeks back, they asked to have a trial run or two before our trip. Stacy and I agreed that this was a wonderful idea for many reasons, one of which being a free date night.
Looking over our calendar, even though we were doing the fair, Saturday was the best night for everyone involved, especially if we wanted to do a second trial run. I just forgot one simple thing: I tell my mom. Oops. Walking around the fair in the morning, my mother-in-law asked me what Stacy and I were doing that evening sans child. It took me a minute to figure out what she was talking about, but it dawned on me. Then it hit me that I hadn't confirmed in any way, shape or form yet. Bad son. As soon as I got my mom on the phone, though, she (and especially my aunt) were thrilled to get a chance to take Grayson for the night.
I'm so blessed to have such a wonderful family (both sides) who live close and love Grayson so much.
The night went off without a hitch.
Someone remind me to schedule trial run #2 in advance....
How did this come about? I have a very flexible mother and aunt!
Stacy and I will be taking a trip in October to visit my sister, Jen in New York City. Even though Jen has lived there for five years already, we haven't been out to see her yet for a whole host of reasons (excuses). The trip is long overdue. My mother and aunt have agreed to watch Grayson while we are away, but they had not yet experienced the joy of an overnight with Mr. G. A few weeks back, they asked to have a trial run or two before our trip. Stacy and I agreed that this was a wonderful idea for many reasons, one of which being a free date night.
Looking over our calendar, even though we were doing the fair, Saturday was the best night for everyone involved, especially if we wanted to do a second trial run. I just forgot one simple thing: I tell my mom. Oops. Walking around the fair in the morning, my mother-in-law asked me what Stacy and I were doing that evening sans child. It took me a minute to figure out what she was talking about, but it dawned on me. Then it hit me that I hadn't confirmed in any way, shape or form yet. Bad son. As soon as I got my mom on the phone, though, she (and especially my aunt) were thrilled to get a chance to take Grayson for the night.
I'm so blessed to have such a wonderful family (both sides) who live close and love Grayson so much.
The night went off without a hitch.
Someone remind me to schedule trial run #2 in advance....
Grayson's First Fair!
Here is Grayson entering the fair:
Here is Grayson waiting for roasted corn on the cob! (Breakfast of champions!):
Grayson taking a much-earned late morning nap!:
Grayson watching his Grandfather's alma mater's marching band start the afternoon parade outside the dairy building. (Malts and Sundaes were had...):
Grayson couldn't leave the fair without getting some cheese curds!:
Grayson had a wonderful day, as did the whole family. His favorite part of the fair was definitely the horses. He was enthralled with such large, beautiful animals. He may just ride them one day, as his mother did when she was younger. He also met a goat named Drake who was ultra charming.
His second favorite part of the fair? People-watching... of course.
My favorite part of the fair? Watching my son take in all the sights, sounds and smells... a perfect day!
8.24.2013
Poker Night
Anyone who knows me knows that I love playing cards. Any cards. My grandmother, Gigi, taught me various kinds of solitaire as a child. I watched my mother play 500 as a kid. My dad played gin rummy, and my uncle taught me cribbage. I like just about any kind of card game you can imagine. But I really enjoy playing poker. There are so many things you have to consider when playing poker; there is math with odds and implied odds. There is psychology with reading other players, posturing and just the fatigue that comes with keeping your head in the game at all times. I don't play often enough to be good, but I'm not bad, and most times I play, I come out ahead.
Tonight, Stacy watched Grayson while I went to the local casino to play Limit Texas Hold 'Em. I'm proud to say I was up tonight. A whole $29 up, but up is still up! This wasn't always the case, though. The night had plenty of ups and downs for me. I haven't played in a while, and my ability to read the table is rusty. Even the fact that I ended up on the night, I still couldn't read the table consistently.
Early in the night, I was playing well. I was able to disguise my hands, identify bad players, and bluff a few pots too. (Bluffing is more challenging in limit poker because you can't make large bet to get a player off a hand... you have to sell your bluff the whole way.) Soon, though, my cards went cold, the bad players were replaced by better players, and I had lost most of my table presence. I was quickly becoming the mark at the table, the person that everyone takes a shot at, and I did little to protect myself from it.
Basically, I had resigned myself to being down for the night. In truly bad form, I decided I was going to take a flier. I had a decent hand to disguise, 8-7 suited, but there were some pre-flop raises in front of me, so I knew that I was going to be up against some bigger hands. Mentally, I was done playing cards, and I had committed myself to seeing this out. The flop came K-8-7 with two hearts (not my suit). Betting ensued. I caught enough to be dangerous. I could only lose at the moment to pocket Ks, 8s or 7s. The turn came up the 6 of diamonds, making a possible straight on the board. With two pair, and so much money in the pot, I was committed to calling and seeing the river. The river was the 4 of hearts. My two pair looked miserably weak. There was a flush on the board; any 5 would have made a straight. And I was still losing to Ks, 8s, or 7s... plus anyone with a K and any other card on the board.
I knew I was dead. I was last to act. The first guy bet out. The second guy called. I made the call of $6 out of pure frustration at this point. I had resigned to losing, and I had resigned to walking away at this point. The bettor didn't even show his cards. He mucked his bluff. The next guy turned over big slick (A-K). I was shocked. I couldn't believe that I had won. I flipped over my cards, called my hand, and raked in the pot. It was one of the worst hands I played all night, and I managed to win my largest pot. This got me back to even and better... after tipping the dealer, I was up $29 for the night. I had just played my button. It was time to go home.
Sometimes, it is better to be lucky than good.
Tonight, Stacy watched Grayson while I went to the local casino to play Limit Texas Hold 'Em. I'm proud to say I was up tonight. A whole $29 up, but up is still up! This wasn't always the case, though. The night had plenty of ups and downs for me. I haven't played in a while, and my ability to read the table is rusty. Even the fact that I ended up on the night, I still couldn't read the table consistently.
Early in the night, I was playing well. I was able to disguise my hands, identify bad players, and bluff a few pots too. (Bluffing is more challenging in limit poker because you can't make large bet to get a player off a hand... you have to sell your bluff the whole way.) Soon, though, my cards went cold, the bad players were replaced by better players, and I had lost most of my table presence. I was quickly becoming the mark at the table, the person that everyone takes a shot at, and I did little to protect myself from it.
Basically, I had resigned myself to being down for the night. In truly bad form, I decided I was going to take a flier. I had a decent hand to disguise, 8-7 suited, but there were some pre-flop raises in front of me, so I knew that I was going to be up against some bigger hands. Mentally, I was done playing cards, and I had committed myself to seeing this out. The flop came K-8-7 with two hearts (not my suit). Betting ensued. I caught enough to be dangerous. I could only lose at the moment to pocket Ks, 8s or 7s. The turn came up the 6 of diamonds, making a possible straight on the board. With two pair, and so much money in the pot, I was committed to calling and seeing the river. The river was the 4 of hearts. My two pair looked miserably weak. There was a flush on the board; any 5 would have made a straight. And I was still losing to Ks, 8s, or 7s... plus anyone with a K and any other card on the board.
I knew I was dead. I was last to act. The first guy bet out. The second guy called. I made the call of $6 out of pure frustration at this point. I had resigned to losing, and I had resigned to walking away at this point. The bettor didn't even show his cards. He mucked his bluff. The next guy turned over big slick (A-K). I was shocked. I couldn't believe that I had won. I flipped over my cards, called my hand, and raked in the pot. It was one of the worst hands I played all night, and I managed to win my largest pot. This got me back to even and better... after tipping the dealer, I was up $29 for the night. I had just played my button. It was time to go home.
Sometimes, it is better to be lucky than good.
8.23.2013
The Great Minnesota Get-Together!
As a Minnesotan, I know that summer is coming to an end when the State Fair begins. As someone who lives in Roseville (is that a Rosevillian or a Rosevillite?), I know that the State Fair has begun when my commute time on Hwy 36 triples! I don't even think about going to Rosedale, Target or Rainbow during this 12 day stretch....
Yesterday, the State Fair began. Over a million people will attend the fair. Last year, 1,788,512 people attended. Stacy and I were two of them. Grayson attended in-utero, so it was really like 1,788.512.5 attended last year!
Tomorrow, Grayson will attend for the first time as a whole person, and I can't wait to see the look on his face as he takes in the smells of everything being fried and sees a horse for the first time. I'm hoping that the Fair becomes an annual tradition for him. I can't wait to see him go down the green slide for the first time (probably a bit young for that yet, but within the next few years, he will take a trip down it). In a few years, he will taste a corn dog and a pronto pup; he will have to decide if he will stick with one or the other for the rest of his life, or maybe he will enjoy them for their nuanced differences. There will be Martha's cookies, a bucket of french fries... all the milk he can drink. We will also have to stop by Ole's Canoles just to say hello to an old friend.
Looking forward to reporting on his first trip tomorrow evening. Until then, avoid Snelling.
Yesterday, the State Fair began. Over a million people will attend the fair. Last year, 1,788,512 people attended. Stacy and I were two of them. Grayson attended in-utero, so it was really like 1,788.512.5 attended last year!
Tomorrow, Grayson will attend for the first time as a whole person, and I can't wait to see the look on his face as he takes in the smells of everything being fried and sees a horse for the first time. I'm hoping that the Fair becomes an annual tradition for him. I can't wait to see him go down the green slide for the first time (probably a bit young for that yet, but within the next few years, he will take a trip down it). In a few years, he will taste a corn dog and a pronto pup; he will have to decide if he will stick with one or the other for the rest of his life, or maybe he will enjoy them for their nuanced differences. There will be Martha's cookies, a bucket of french fries... all the milk he can drink. We will also have to stop by Ole's Canoles just to say hello to an old friend.
Looking forward to reporting on his first trip tomorrow evening. Until then, avoid Snelling.
8.21.2013
Nursery Rhymes... SOOOO Creepy
I'm finding myself in a rut where I'm a half day behind... maybe I can catch up this weekend. Basically, I created this post last night (8/21), but am writing it this morning (8/22).
Last night, Stacy and I were having dinner and feeding Grayson. We've discovered how much Grayson enjoys music, so we've been alternating between pop songs and children's songs. Last night was nursery rhymes on Pandora. (What a wonderful invention: Pandora.com)
Most of the songs that came up were very familiar to Stacy and I. We sung them as children, and, save for a different key or a syncopated rhythm, they are just as we remembered them. As an adult, though, I'm paying attention to the lyrics and the themes of these songs. I'm a bit mortified by what I'm hearing. So much loss, depth, fear.
Ring around the rosy/
a pocket full of posies/
Ashes to ashes/
We all fall down
Wow. Just wow. Here kids! Life goes on like you know it, having fun, but be sure to carry some flowers so you don't stink nearly as bad when you die... because we all die, and you will too someday!
One of my favorite childhood memories is my mother singing to me before bed. The song I always remember her singing (and can still hear in my head to this day) is You Are My Sunshine. The melody is sweet and tender; my mother's voice was always soft and pure. As a child, I found great comfort in this song, and when it came on Pandora last night, I began to sing it to my son. But this song was clearly written before stalking laws were prevalent. Written in 1940 by a former governor of Louisiana, You Are My Sunshine juxtaposes a sweet melody with lyrics that are riddled with guilt and loss.
The whole lyrics can be found here, but I want to highlight one verse in particular:
I'll always love you/
And make you happy/
If you will only say the same/
But if you leave me/
To love another/
You'll regret it all some day
It reminds me of the scene in Wedding Crashers where Gloria Cleary says to Jeremy Gray in her creepiest voice, "Don't ever leave me... because I'll find you!"
I think for dinner tonight, we will just listen to heavy metal backwards; I think it will have less of a negative impact on Grayson...
Last night, Stacy and I were having dinner and feeding Grayson. We've discovered how much Grayson enjoys music, so we've been alternating between pop songs and children's songs. Last night was nursery rhymes on Pandora. (What a wonderful invention: Pandora.com)
Most of the songs that came up were very familiar to Stacy and I. We sung them as children, and, save for a different key or a syncopated rhythm, they are just as we remembered them. As an adult, though, I'm paying attention to the lyrics and the themes of these songs. I'm a bit mortified by what I'm hearing. So much loss, depth, fear.
Ring around the rosy/
a pocket full of posies/
Ashes to ashes/
We all fall down
Wow. Just wow. Here kids! Life goes on like you know it, having fun, but be sure to carry some flowers so you don't stink nearly as bad when you die... because we all die, and you will too someday!
One of my favorite childhood memories is my mother singing to me before bed. The song I always remember her singing (and can still hear in my head to this day) is You Are My Sunshine. The melody is sweet and tender; my mother's voice was always soft and pure. As a child, I found great comfort in this song, and when it came on Pandora last night, I began to sing it to my son. But this song was clearly written before stalking laws were prevalent. Written in 1940 by a former governor of Louisiana, You Are My Sunshine juxtaposes a sweet melody with lyrics that are riddled with guilt and loss.
The whole lyrics can be found here, but I want to highlight one verse in particular:
I'll always love you/
And make you happy/
If you will only say the same/
But if you leave me/
To love another/
You'll regret it all some day
It reminds me of the scene in Wedding Crashers where Gloria Cleary says to Jeremy Gray in her creepiest voice, "Don't ever leave me... because I'll find you!"
I think for dinner tonight, we will just listen to heavy metal backwards; I think it will have less of a negative impact on Grayson...
8.20.2013
Hot Summer Nights
After Stacy finished nursing Grayson and put him to bed, the two of us sat outside on our front porch drinking chilled beverages and watching Delilah scan the yard for signs of life.
I've never been one to do this in the heat of summer. I prefer fall evenings with a little nip in the air. Last night was probably one of the worst nights to try something like this; the temperature had settled into the high 70s, but the humidity from the day only seemed to be worse as the air cooled. It was like sitting in a sauna that had been shut off about an hour ago.
Oddly,though, I found the whole experience refreshing. Stacy and I actually got to talk about our days. Delilah seemed to have fun. It felt, in many ways, like a meditation... like my personal sweat lodge. I guess when the air gets that thick, everything just slows down a bit.
I might have to suggest it again tonight.
I've never been one to do this in the heat of summer. I prefer fall evenings with a little nip in the air. Last night was probably one of the worst nights to try something like this; the temperature had settled into the high 70s, but the humidity from the day only seemed to be worse as the air cooled. It was like sitting in a sauna that had been shut off about an hour ago.
Oddly,though, I found the whole experience refreshing. Stacy and I actually got to talk about our days. Delilah seemed to have fun. It felt, in many ways, like a meditation... like my personal sweat lodge. I guess when the air gets that thick, everything just slows down a bit.
I might have to suggest it again tonight.
8.19.2013
I'll write something later
It's later, and I'm writing something. I'm not writing something of substance, but I'm writing.
I saw an interesting post on Buzzfeed.com today, sponsored by Virgin Mobile, so it can be taken with a grain of salt... 15 Creepiest Facebook Graph Searches. For those that aren't aware, Facebook recently rolled out a search function that allows you to use plain English to probe the depths of public information on the site and the private information that your friends allow you to see.
I think I'm going to review my likes and purge them!
Read the article. It truly is creepy.
I saw an interesting post on Buzzfeed.com today, sponsored by Virgin Mobile, so it can be taken with a grain of salt... 15 Creepiest Facebook Graph Searches. For those that aren't aware, Facebook recently rolled out a search function that allows you to use plain English to probe the depths of public information on the site and the private information that your friends allow you to see.
I think I'm going to review my likes and purge them!
Read the article. It truly is creepy.
8.18.2013
Zipper Merge
Everyone who's lived in Minnesota for any length of time knows that the state has two seasons: winter and road construction. Both seem to last longer than they should, and both make driving pretty miserable.
Road construction makes trips to the lake a game of Russian Roulette. Technology has made this game a little more predictable, but you still take a risk of getting stuck in traffic you don't expect. Driving home today, Stacy and I were presented with two main options, neither of which seemed pleasant, but one looked like it had just a few minutes of delay at the point where construction started. We chose this option.
Hwy 10, through Anoka, is down to one lane for a handful of miles. Once you get down to one lane, though, traffic moves pretty well. There are signs that warn you of the lane closure, but there are also signs that advise you to continue in the lane until it ends.
This concept is called the zipper merge. It is widely publicized by MNDOT. You can read about it here: http://www.dot.state.mn.us/zippermerge/
I wish that the driver of a late 2000s Chevy Suburban heeded this advice.
When I approached the point of merge, the cars in front of me behaved like they should. It's as if they all passed kindergarten; they took turns. One car from the right, then one from the left. Everyone had to wait just a second, but everyone got on their way. Then it was my turn. The Suburban in the right lane (the lane that continued) hugged the bumper of the car in front of him. I had my blinker on, and I figured he would yield. I was wrong. He almost ran me (and Stacy, Delilah and Grayson) off the road.
I honked hoping it would do something. It didn't. I was left to live with my frustration and disgust. What can you do?
Then Pandora played the ukulele version of Somewhere Over the Rainbow, as if it knew I needed to calm down.
We made it safely home.
I can only hope the owner of that Suburban reads this post...
Road construction makes trips to the lake a game of Russian Roulette. Technology has made this game a little more predictable, but you still take a risk of getting stuck in traffic you don't expect. Driving home today, Stacy and I were presented with two main options, neither of which seemed pleasant, but one looked like it had just a few minutes of delay at the point where construction started. We chose this option.
Hwy 10, through Anoka, is down to one lane for a handful of miles. Once you get down to one lane, though, traffic moves pretty well. There are signs that warn you of the lane closure, but there are also signs that advise you to continue in the lane until it ends.
This concept is called the zipper merge. It is widely publicized by MNDOT. You can read about it here: http://www.dot.state.mn.us/zippermerge/
I wish that the driver of a late 2000s Chevy Suburban heeded this advice.
When I approached the point of merge, the cars in front of me behaved like they should. It's as if they all passed kindergarten; they took turns. One car from the right, then one from the left. Everyone had to wait just a second, but everyone got on their way. Then it was my turn. The Suburban in the right lane (the lane that continued) hugged the bumper of the car in front of him. I had my blinker on, and I figured he would yield. I was wrong. He almost ran me (and Stacy, Delilah and Grayson) off the road.
I honked hoping it would do something. It didn't. I was left to live with my frustration and disgust. What can you do?
Then Pandora played the ukulele version of Somewhere Over the Rainbow, as if it knew I needed to calm down.
We made it safely home.
I can only hope the owner of that Suburban reads this post...
8.17.2013
Perfect Day
We are up north this weekend, and today was the perfect day.
I had the pleasure of waking up with my son, bonding for a time before everyone else got up. I had a chocolate pastry for breakfast with a few cups of coffee. We relaxed for the morning, made lunch, then took a cruise on the pontoon under slightly cloudy skies.
I took a nap!
There was a block party where I got to meet a lot of the neighbors around the lake. Appetizers were aplenty. We grilled chicken for dinner, then Stacy and I met friends for ice cream at a traditional candy shop and ice cream parlor.
We capped off the night with a cocktail at the local bar.
Ahhhh....
8.16.2013
Gut Punch
When I was in the 6th grade, I was being bullied by a kid. He was pushing me, shoving me, blocking my path. Pretty typical for bullying, and nothing too horrific, but it felt awful at the time. One day in class, we were lining up for something, and he lined up behind me. Almost immediately, the shoving began. I had put up with this for weeks now, and I had reached a boiling point. I quickly spun around with a clenched fist, and I hit him square in the stomach.
I audibly knocked the wind out of him. Ugh. And I thoroughly pissed him off.
He threw me to the grown and started pounding on me.
The teacher quickly broke it up, and we were sent to the Principal's office. After much finagling, and some outright lying, this kid and I convinced Paul Scharest that it was all a big misunderstanding. We avoided detention, and it seemed like, to a degree, we had reached a tenuous truce. It was the first time I had hit somebody, and it was the first time I had stood up to a bully.
I got punched in the gut today. I'm still trying to catch my breath.
I received word about the internal position for which I had applied. I didn't get the position. Turns out, as far as I'm told, nobody did. This team received word yesterday that they would not be allowed to fill any open positions for the remainder of the year, and they aren't even sure if they will be able to fill them next year.
To say I'm disappointed is a bit of an understatement. Part of me wishes they had just chosen the other candidate. I know that sounds weird, but I guess I would have preferred to lose to something other than a shift in budget; at least that way, I would know that it was in my control. The thing that most upsets me is the fact that I was allowed to go so far down the process. Obviously decisions come down when they come down, and I'm sure the hiring manager had no idea two weeks ago when they started the interview process... but it seems odd to me that I would go through the rigors of interviewing only to have the position remain open.
I still have a job, and today is Friday, so it isn't all clouds around here, but I'm staggered. I've had the wind knocked out of me.
Hopefully a weekend up north will help me breathe again.
I audibly knocked the wind out of him. Ugh. And I thoroughly pissed him off.
He threw me to the grown and started pounding on me.
The teacher quickly broke it up, and we were sent to the Principal's office. After much finagling, and some outright lying, this kid and I convinced Paul Scharest that it was all a big misunderstanding. We avoided detention, and it seemed like, to a degree, we had reached a tenuous truce. It was the first time I had hit somebody, and it was the first time I had stood up to a bully.
I got punched in the gut today. I'm still trying to catch my breath.
I received word about the internal position for which I had applied. I didn't get the position. Turns out, as far as I'm told, nobody did. This team received word yesterday that they would not be allowed to fill any open positions for the remainder of the year, and they aren't even sure if they will be able to fill them next year.
To say I'm disappointed is a bit of an understatement. Part of me wishes they had just chosen the other candidate. I know that sounds weird, but I guess I would have preferred to lose to something other than a shift in budget; at least that way, I would know that it was in my control. The thing that most upsets me is the fact that I was allowed to go so far down the process. Obviously decisions come down when they come down, and I'm sure the hiring manager had no idea two weeks ago when they started the interview process... but it seems odd to me that I would go through the rigors of interviewing only to have the position remain open.
I still have a job, and today is Friday, so it isn't all clouds around here, but I'm staggered. I've had the wind knocked out of me.
Hopefully a weekend up north will help me breathe again.
8.15.2013
Feeding Yourself
Grayson fed himself for the first time tonight. More accurately, we let him play with the spoon. I purchased a bowl with a suction cup on the bottom to prevent it from being flung across the room. I want to paint the dining room, but I don't necessarily want to paint it in carrots.
The bowl stayed in place. This was cool. The food, however, made it all over Grayson and the highchair. Stacy was smart enough to remove Grayson's shirt first, but an immediate bath was mandatory as soon as dinner was done.
Overall, I would say that the first venture into self-feeding was a success. Grayson had decent hand-eye coordination. He even got the correct end of the spoon most of the time. I don't, however, think this will be an every meal thing right away. For every spoonful, there was also a handful. I guess we taught him well how to eat finger food. Now we just have to teach him that pureed turkey is NOT finger food.
Enjoying this ride called parenthood...
The bowl stayed in place. This was cool. The food, however, made it all over Grayson and the highchair. Stacy was smart enough to remove Grayson's shirt first, but an immediate bath was mandatory as soon as dinner was done.
Overall, I would say that the first venture into self-feeding was a success. Grayson had decent hand-eye coordination. He even got the correct end of the spoon most of the time. I don't, however, think this will be an every meal thing right away. For every spoonful, there was also a handful. I guess we taught him well how to eat finger food. Now we just have to teach him that pureed turkey is NOT finger food.
Enjoying this ride called parenthood...
8.14.2013
Calm on the outside...
I heard a rumor that today was the day that a decision was being made about the job for which I applied. I'm trying my hardest to remain calm, to project an attitude of so-be-it-ness. I've done the best I can do, and if that isn't good enough, then there must have been a better candidate.
But I want this job. Badly. I think I'd make a great fit.
So my Joe Cool exterior is merely a facade, a projection of confidence and nonchalance. Inside, I'm freaking out. My stomach is a mess. I'm twitchy. I keep checking the internal job-posting site for updates to my status. I just want to know.
I have a difficult time being patient, but patience is all I have.
So I'll wait. Maybe there will be news sometime tomorrow. It will be challenging to remain focused at work.
Is my face turning red? Or am I still pretending to the world that I'm the pinnacle of calm?
But I want this job. Badly. I think I'd make a great fit.
So my Joe Cool exterior is merely a facade, a projection of confidence and nonchalance. Inside, I'm freaking out. My stomach is a mess. I'm twitchy. I keep checking the internal job-posting site for updates to my status. I just want to know.
I have a difficult time being patient, but patience is all I have.
So I'll wait. Maybe there will be news sometime tomorrow. It will be challenging to remain focused at work.
Is my face turning red? Or am I still pretending to the world that I'm the pinnacle of calm?
8.13.2013
Interview Update
My day today was hectic, so much so that I forgot I drove into work today. I took the bus all the way to my park and ride, walked up to where I normally parked, then ran back to the bus I just got off so I could take it all the way back downtown. I added an extra hour to my commute.
I had meetings at 7:00, 8:30, 10:00, 12:00, 1:00 and 2:00 with interviews at 8:00, 9:00 and 11:00. I barely got around to answering emails today. It's no wonder I forgot where I left my car. (One of these days, I'll write about the time in college when I lost my car.)
Despite my absentmindedness at the end of the day, I think I was spot on for my interviews. Of the three I had today, I nailed the last two, and I think I did pretty well in my first.
The decision will come down soon. Rumor has it the interviewers are meeting tomorrow. They've promised to let me know by the end of the week. I'll keep everyone posted, but I like my chances when I am the last candidate to interview; good or bad, they are comparing me against everyone else with the thought in their heads that it's decision time.
Hopefully I will remember where I put my car tomorrow.
I had meetings at 7:00, 8:30, 10:00, 12:00, 1:00 and 2:00 with interviews at 8:00, 9:00 and 11:00. I barely got around to answering emails today. It's no wonder I forgot where I left my car. (One of these days, I'll write about the time in college when I lost my car.)
Despite my absentmindedness at the end of the day, I think I was spot on for my interviews. Of the three I had today, I nailed the last two, and I think I did pretty well in my first.
The decision will come down soon. Rumor has it the interviewers are meeting tomorrow. They've promised to let me know by the end of the week. I'll keep everyone posted, but I like my chances when I am the last candidate to interview; good or bad, they are comparing me against everyone else with the thought in their heads that it's decision time.
Hopefully I will remember where I put my car tomorrow.
8.12.2013
Interviewing
When I was hired at Target last December, I knew that I was being hired for a project-funded role. This meant that my job had a fixed duration; once the project was done, I would need to find something else to do at Target. I am very much a full-time Target employee with an annual salary like most at headquarters... I was just hired into a role that had a defined end date. Target is committed to me as a team member, and this role is just the first in what I hope will be a long career at Target.
I was hired in Dec. It was a 12-18 month role. WAS.
Projects change; scope gets shifted, and time lines get truncated. If all goes as currently planned, my project will be complete sometime in September or October.
This means that I've been looking for my next opportunity for a few months or so, but in earnest over the last 4 weeks. My manager has been great, encouraging me to meet with a host of people, but it is the the people I know from outside of work that have led to the most promising leads.
Tomorrow morning, one of those leads is paying off. I have three interviews: 8:00, 9:00 and 11:00. These are face-to-face discussions, and I think I'm well qualified for the role. I just have to convince three people of this fact.
I'm not nervous. I rarely am for an interview. I just don't see the purpose of getting all worked up and edgy. I am full of energy, though. I'm hoping to get a good night's sleep.
I should know within a week or so whether I will get this job or have to continue looking... I'll keep you posted.
I was hired in Dec. It was a 12-18 month role. WAS.
Projects change; scope gets shifted, and time lines get truncated. If all goes as currently planned, my project will be complete sometime in September or October.
This means that I've been looking for my next opportunity for a few months or so, but in earnest over the last 4 weeks. My manager has been great, encouraging me to meet with a host of people, but it is the the people I know from outside of work that have led to the most promising leads.
Tomorrow morning, one of those leads is paying off. I have three interviews: 8:00, 9:00 and 11:00. These are face-to-face discussions, and I think I'm well qualified for the role. I just have to convince three people of this fact.
I'm not nervous. I rarely am for an interview. I just don't see the purpose of getting all worked up and edgy. I am full of energy, though. I'm hoping to get a good night's sleep.
I should know within a week or so whether I will get this job or have to continue looking... I'll keep you posted.
8.11.2013
Falling Behind
This concept of writing every day is tough. Grayson was sick last week; this sapped all of his energy, but it also sapped his parents' energy!
Friday, I went to bed at 9:30. Saturday, it was 9:15. Last night (tonight by the date stamp on this post), even though Grayson was in bed by 8:30 (and Stacy put him down), I was too tired to think, let alone write. I willfully put it off.
I'm caught up now, save for the one post I still have lingering from a few weeks ago, but I'm feeling pretty guilty about it. The whole intent of my experiment was to carve out time every day to write something, regardless of quality. Lately, I've been failing to do that. For those of you who checked my blog without the prompting of a link on Facebook, you were greeted with placeholder posts. This was my way of cheating the timestamps; even when I edit a post, the original timestamp appears in the header of the post. Certainly the "last edited" date will reflect when I made my last change, but at first glance, it will appear as though I wrote every day.
This is my third post this morning. (After a 7:00am conference call, work has been a bit slow...)
One thing that I'm learning about grandiose proclamations that span a good deal of time: sometimes life gets in the way!
Yesterday's sermon dealt with faith, and the church has been actively engaged in thought around forgiveness. So I'm forgiving myself for not living up to my pledge to carve out time, recognizing that I'm doing the best I can to live up to the spirit of my promise to carve out time to write, and I'm taking it on faith that I will continue to work toward this goal for the next 9 months.
That's right... I'm only 3 months into this endeavor. Pray for me...
Friday, I went to bed at 9:30. Saturday, it was 9:15. Last night (tonight by the date stamp on this post), even though Grayson was in bed by 8:30 (and Stacy put him down), I was too tired to think, let alone write. I willfully put it off.
I'm caught up now, save for the one post I still have lingering from a few weeks ago, but I'm feeling pretty guilty about it. The whole intent of my experiment was to carve out time every day to write something, regardless of quality. Lately, I've been failing to do that. For those of you who checked my blog without the prompting of a link on Facebook, you were greeted with placeholder posts. This was my way of cheating the timestamps; even when I edit a post, the original timestamp appears in the header of the post. Certainly the "last edited" date will reflect when I made my last change, but at first glance, it will appear as though I wrote every day.
This is my third post this morning. (After a 7:00am conference call, work has been a bit slow...)
One thing that I'm learning about grandiose proclamations that span a good deal of time: sometimes life gets in the way!
Yesterday's sermon dealt with faith, and the church has been actively engaged in thought around forgiveness. So I'm forgiving myself for not living up to my pledge to carve out time, recognizing that I'm doing the best I can to live up to the spirit of my promise to carve out time to write, and I'm taking it on faith that I will continue to work toward this goal for the next 9 months.
That's right... I'm only 3 months into this endeavor. Pray for me...
8.10.2013
Cousins
Today, Grayson went to the park with his two cousins, Logan and Brynn. Grayson went on a swing for the first time, and he went down his first slide (in Daddy's lap, of course). After the park and some naps, the cousins came over to our place to splash around in our kiddie pool. The water was frigid, fresh out of the hose, but the kids seemed to have lots of fun. Nana and I made dinner for everyone, and we watched an Elmo movie on DVD. It was a great day!
I can already tell that all three kids are going to have tons of fun as they grow older. Even though we don't live in the same state, the cousins come up often enough that they will see each other a handful of times every year. Logan, the oldest at three and a half years, is already interacting with Grayson, and G is fascinated with an older version of himself. When they play together, they have the same laugh. As they grow older, I know that they will be trouble! I can only begin to imagine what they will be like as teenagers up at the lake chasing dogs and frogs, fishing, swimming, and generally terrorizing the neighborhood. Brynn will fit in nicely, sandwiched between the two in age; she is already trying to do everything her older brother does. No fear.
This doesn't even account for Grayson's older cousin in Illinois (Belle) or any future cousins he may have.
I'm jealous. I only have two cousins. The one that is closest in age to me has never really spent time around my side of the family; divorce was the primary culprit there. My other cousin is much younger than me, and she lives in Ohio. Even though I saw her once or twice a year, we are something like 13 years apart in age, so she wasn't exactly a partner in crime for me.
I've heard that cousins are your closest friends growing up. I can already see that with Grayson and the gang. I'm looking forward to the next 18+ years of watching them grow and play, and challenge each other and their parents.
Today was just another glimpse.
I can already tell that all three kids are going to have tons of fun as they grow older. Even though we don't live in the same state, the cousins come up often enough that they will see each other a handful of times every year. Logan, the oldest at three and a half years, is already interacting with Grayson, and G is fascinated with an older version of himself. When they play together, they have the same laugh. As they grow older, I know that they will be trouble! I can only begin to imagine what they will be like as teenagers up at the lake chasing dogs and frogs, fishing, swimming, and generally terrorizing the neighborhood. Brynn will fit in nicely, sandwiched between the two in age; she is already trying to do everything her older brother does. No fear.
This doesn't even account for Grayson's older cousin in Illinois (Belle) or any future cousins he may have.
I'm jealous. I only have two cousins. The one that is closest in age to me has never really spent time around my side of the family; divorce was the primary culprit there. My other cousin is much younger than me, and she lives in Ohio. Even though I saw her once or twice a year, we are something like 13 years apart in age, so she wasn't exactly a partner in crime for me.
I've heard that cousins are your closest friends growing up. I can already see that with Grayson and the gang. I'm looking forward to the next 18+ years of watching them grow and play, and challenge each other and their parents.
Today was just another glimpse.
8.09.2013
Pre-Season
The NFL just entered the first full week of pre-season football, and the sports media world is happy once again.
Football is the most popular sport in America by far; a regular season game between two random teams gets better TV ratings than the finals of any other sport in the country. Only soccer seems more loved worldwide. Because of this passion for football, throngs of Americans tune into sports radio to hear about the tiniest snippets of information about their favorite teams. Turn the channel to ESPN or the NFL Network, and I promise you will see a story about any prominent player and how his relationship status is affecting his play within 15 minutes.
Pre-season is the primer. The games are "meaningless," in the fact that wins and losses do not factor into any standings. Starters never play a full game. Some superstars might not play a single snap of football during the pre-season; the main fear from teams is the risk of injury during meaningless games. The main point of pre-season football seems to be the evaluation of a handful of players that are on the borderline of making the team... but even the majority of these decisions are made primarily based on practice.
The real point of pre-season football, from a team and league perspective, is to make 4 extra games worth of money.
You see, despite the fact these games mean nothing, and despite the fact that most starters don't play a full game (tonight for the Vikings, the starting offense played two snaps), the NFL charges full, regular season prices for the tickets.
Yep. Less than half the product. All the cash outlay.
For any fan that purchases single-game tickets, this isn't a big deal, but the NFL is smart. The NFL realizes that pre-season tickets are harder to sell, so they tie these tickets to other, more popular tickets. If you want to buy season tickets, you are forced to buy pre-season tickets with them. Post-season tickets, though, are extra; they are not included in your season ticket package, and the often cost double (or more). Also, some teams will tie pre-season tickets to popular single-game tickets during the regular season. Do you want to see the Packers at Vikings during the regular season? There are "single" game tickets available for purchase... but you have to buy at least one pre-season ticket as well.
There are three more weeks of games before they begin to count... unless you are counting the dollars flying out of your bank account. Like the players getting into game shape, though, the fans have an opportunity to try out new cheers or bathroom line strategies.
I just wish I could do it at half price.
Football is the most popular sport in America by far; a regular season game between two random teams gets better TV ratings than the finals of any other sport in the country. Only soccer seems more loved worldwide. Because of this passion for football, throngs of Americans tune into sports radio to hear about the tiniest snippets of information about their favorite teams. Turn the channel to ESPN or the NFL Network, and I promise you will see a story about any prominent player and how his relationship status is affecting his play within 15 minutes.
Pre-season is the primer. The games are "meaningless," in the fact that wins and losses do not factor into any standings. Starters never play a full game. Some superstars might not play a single snap of football during the pre-season; the main fear from teams is the risk of injury during meaningless games. The main point of pre-season football seems to be the evaluation of a handful of players that are on the borderline of making the team... but even the majority of these decisions are made primarily based on practice.
The real point of pre-season football, from a team and league perspective, is to make 4 extra games worth of money.
You see, despite the fact these games mean nothing, and despite the fact that most starters don't play a full game (tonight for the Vikings, the starting offense played two snaps), the NFL charges full, regular season prices for the tickets.
Yep. Less than half the product. All the cash outlay.
For any fan that purchases single-game tickets, this isn't a big deal, but the NFL is smart. The NFL realizes that pre-season tickets are harder to sell, so they tie these tickets to other, more popular tickets. If you want to buy season tickets, you are forced to buy pre-season tickets with them. Post-season tickets, though, are extra; they are not included in your season ticket package, and the often cost double (or more). Also, some teams will tie pre-season tickets to popular single-game tickets during the regular season. Do you want to see the Packers at Vikings during the regular season? There are "single" game tickets available for purchase... but you have to buy at least one pre-season ticket as well.
There are three more weeks of games before they begin to count... unless you are counting the dollars flying out of your bank account. Like the players getting into game shape, though, the fans have an opportunity to try out new cheers or bathroom line strategies.
I just wish I could do it at half price.
8.08.2013
Sick Kid
Stacy and I were supposed to have dinner with the old gang tonight. A few years back a group of 9 started a dinner club. The basic premise was a new restaurant every month recommended by a member of the group. Tonight, we were getting the gang back together.
Grayson made other plans. He was ruining a fever.
Plans change. We felt as though we couldn't leaveJimk
8.07.2013
I Think I'm Crazy
I downloaded an app yesterday. I have over 150 on my phone, so the act of downloading an app isn't reason for alarm. I'll listen to arguments about the number of apps though...
The crazy comes with the kind of app I downloaded: a fitness app. Specifically, I now have C25K. Couch to 5K. (I'm writing this on my couch right now.) for those that know me, they know I'm not a runner. I'm far from it. My experiences with running are painful memories. I have bad knees, so the impact isn't easy. I have scars on my right hip from a run/sprint.
No word yet on whether I'll use the app. Maybe yoga is more my speed. But I'm considering it. Befriending my enemy.
Maybe I'll be competitive in my next 5K...
8.06.2013
Cheaters Always Win
I read an interesting article today in the USAToday, not necessarily well-written, but an intriguing argument. The gist of the theorem: MLB players will continue to use performance-enhancing drugs because the rewards far outweigh the penalties. A-Rod, even after serving a potential 211 game suspension, will stand to make an additional $60M+. Nelson Cruz will be a free agent after a 50 game suspension; he stands to sign a multi-year, multi-million dollar contract. These contracts are based on statistics. Numbers. Production. Performance. Enhanced with drugs. The kicker: these contracts are guaranteed.
Why wouldn't you cheat? You get fame and notoriety. You get swimming pools filled with cash. You risk your health, to a degree, but you have all this money to spend on top-notch medical care after you retire. Sure... your "manhood" may get smaller, but that will always look small next to the stacks of cash on your nightstand.
When I was in high school, I took pre-calculus and calculus from the same teacher. Mr. Skie. He was a great teacher, and he had a tried and true method to get students to understand the subject matter. In fact, he even encouraged his students to call him at home with math questions. He spent years refining his grading policy. It was simple. There were three tests each quarter worth 40 points each. He also gave you 20 points for homework automatically, but he took away points when assignments were not complete. You could not, however, lose any more than 6 points a quarter for missing assignments.
He guaranteed his students 14 points. You could spit in his face, and you wouldn't lose more than 6 points. (You'd probably get detention though.)
As long as you got at least 116 of 120 points on tests, you would still receive a mathematical A. If you managed to get 112 points on tests, you were guaranteed an A-.
I used this to my advantage. I rarely did my homework. In fact, I only did so much as was needed to understand the math lessons. This was probably his point all along; as long as you knew the material, you should be able to receive an A.
Mr. Skie, though, was irked by my lack of effort and the apparent ease with which I comprehended calculus. (I can't even complete a simple derivative today.) My parents often came home from conferences demanding that I do more homework.
My response was simple: what more did they want from me than an A? If Mr. Skie was so upset about it, he should change his grading policies. He should make the penalties for not completing homework more punitive.
Until then, I would continue to bend the rules to my benefit.
Until MLB makes the penalties stronger with longer suspensions and greater fines (or limiting the amount of future contracts to a league minimum), players will continue to be incentivize to use PEDs. For them, it pays to cheat.
Why wouldn't you cheat? You get fame and notoriety. You get swimming pools filled with cash. You risk your health, to a degree, but you have all this money to spend on top-notch medical care after you retire. Sure... your "manhood" may get smaller, but that will always look small next to the stacks of cash on your nightstand.
When I was in high school, I took pre-calculus and calculus from the same teacher. Mr. Skie. He was a great teacher, and he had a tried and true method to get students to understand the subject matter. In fact, he even encouraged his students to call him at home with math questions. He spent years refining his grading policy. It was simple. There were three tests each quarter worth 40 points each. He also gave you 20 points for homework automatically, but he took away points when assignments were not complete. You could not, however, lose any more than 6 points a quarter for missing assignments.
He guaranteed his students 14 points. You could spit in his face, and you wouldn't lose more than 6 points. (You'd probably get detention though.)
As long as you got at least 116 of 120 points on tests, you would still receive a mathematical A. If you managed to get 112 points on tests, you were guaranteed an A-.
I used this to my advantage. I rarely did my homework. In fact, I only did so much as was needed to understand the math lessons. This was probably his point all along; as long as you knew the material, you should be able to receive an A.
Mr. Skie, though, was irked by my lack of effort and the apparent ease with which I comprehended calculus. (I can't even complete a simple derivative today.) My parents often came home from conferences demanding that I do more homework.
My response was simple: what more did they want from me than an A? If Mr. Skie was so upset about it, he should change his grading policies. He should make the penalties for not completing homework more punitive.
Until then, I would continue to bend the rules to my benefit.
Until MLB makes the penalties stronger with longer suspensions and greater fines (or limiting the amount of future contracts to a league minimum), players will continue to be incentivize to use PEDs. For them, it pays to cheat.
8.05.2013
Gaining Perspective
I heard a caller on a talk radio show say something to the effect that with age comes perspective. The host seemed to agree, as if perspective is something that can be learned or earned over time. In this sense, perspective seems equal to experience or, better yet, wisdom. They were trying to answer the question of whether it is better to burn out or fade away, and the consensus seemed to be that youth was in the moment, but that age gained perspective to reach to proper conclusion that it is better to fade away.
I certainly hope that, over time, I gain experience and wisdom. I like to think that now that I'm 35, I make better decisions than when I was 25. Or 20, 18, 15.
But experience and wisdom aren't perspective. They are one or more perspectives.
By definition, perspective is a vantage point; it is the angle by which an object or situation is viewed. Just ask any artist, any photographer. In fact, artistic perspective is just about the only kind of perspective that is learned over time. I remember pulling out rulers in art class, drawing perspective lines that met at an infinite horizon. When I joined these lines with perfect vertical lines, I got a pretty realistic streetscape. Yay for me. This wasn't wisdom; it was hardly art.
Perspective in life is something that every person possesses regardless of age, experience or wisdom. My perspective is uniquely mine at this point in space and time. It is different than Stacy's or Grayson's, but theirs is no less valid or correct than mine. To disregard their perspective as anything less than mine because they are younger (yes... I married a younger woman) is pretentious at best. To dismiss theirs now would be to dismiss my current perspective tomorrow... and I think my perspective is pretty valid right now.
I didn't have the time to call into the radio show and offer my perspective on perspectives... so I have this blog, and my perspective is this:
We all have perspectives; it isn't something that is gathered over time. It is just something that changes over time. At this moment in time, I'd prefer to fade away.
Tomorrow, though, I might prefer to burn out.
Both will be valid to me in the moment, and that is all that matters.
I certainly hope that, over time, I gain experience and wisdom. I like to think that now that I'm 35, I make better decisions than when I was 25. Or 20, 18, 15.
But experience and wisdom aren't perspective. They are one or more perspectives.
By definition, perspective is a vantage point; it is the angle by which an object or situation is viewed. Just ask any artist, any photographer. In fact, artistic perspective is just about the only kind of perspective that is learned over time. I remember pulling out rulers in art class, drawing perspective lines that met at an infinite horizon. When I joined these lines with perfect vertical lines, I got a pretty realistic streetscape. Yay for me. This wasn't wisdom; it was hardly art.
Perspective in life is something that every person possesses regardless of age, experience or wisdom. My perspective is uniquely mine at this point in space and time. It is different than Stacy's or Grayson's, but theirs is no less valid or correct than mine. To disregard their perspective as anything less than mine because they are younger (yes... I married a younger woman) is pretentious at best. To dismiss theirs now would be to dismiss my current perspective tomorrow... and I think my perspective is pretty valid right now.
I didn't have the time to call into the radio show and offer my perspective on perspectives... so I have this blog, and my perspective is this:
We all have perspectives; it isn't something that is gathered over time. It is just something that changes over time. At this moment in time, I'd prefer to fade away.
Tomorrow, though, I might prefer to burn out.
Both will be valid to me in the moment, and that is all that matters.
8.04.2013
Sunburn
Sunburn is nature's hangover. You have to pay for the fun you had the day before.
Sure... we have sunscreen. It is a wonderful invention, but it is rarely as effective as you think. Personally, I forget to reapply as the day wears on... I think I'm fine. My skin feels warm, but that is the point of being in the sun, right?
Today was a sneaky day... the sun was warm, but the clouds were just thick enough where the sun wasn't too bright. AND there was a breeze. I didn't put on nearly enough sunscreen. My neck is a bit crisp today.
The worst part about it, though... Grayson got his first sunburn. It isn't bad, but he certainly has a rosy glow to his cheeks and nose.
The good news is that he doesn't seem bothered by it. It isn't bad at all, and it will be gone by Tuesday for sure. Of all the firsts we've been tracking (first "mama", first banana, first time rolling over), this is one that probably won't make the baby book. It is, however, something that will happen more, especially with summers at the lake.
Welcome to your first summer "hangover." I still think the boat ride was worth it.
Sure... we have sunscreen. It is a wonderful invention, but it is rarely as effective as you think. Personally, I forget to reapply as the day wears on... I think I'm fine. My skin feels warm, but that is the point of being in the sun, right?
Today was a sneaky day... the sun was warm, but the clouds were just thick enough where the sun wasn't too bright. AND there was a breeze. I didn't put on nearly enough sunscreen. My neck is a bit crisp today.
The worst part about it, though... Grayson got his first sunburn. It isn't bad, but he certainly has a rosy glow to his cheeks and nose.
The good news is that he doesn't seem bothered by it. It isn't bad at all, and it will be gone by Tuesday for sure. Of all the firsts we've been tracking (first "mama", first banana, first time rolling over), this is one that probably won't make the baby book. It is, however, something that will happen more, especially with summers at the lake.
Welcome to your first summer "hangover." I still think the boat ride was worth it.
8.03.2013
Something I Haven't Done in a Long Time
Today: I read.
Okay, so I read every day. I read headlines and the occasional article. I read countless emails and a handful of blog posts/buzz feeds. I read every day.
But I rarely read a book. For pleasure.
Today, the extended family took a boat ride around the lakes; Stacy and Grayson took a nap. Delilah laid at my feet. I got to sit on the deck and read a book (hardcover!). I was able to pick up the book I referenced about 8 weeks ago: "Tell My Sons." I had read the forward and a handful of pages, no more than two at a time, but I hadn't really gotten to sit down with the book.
In about an hour, I was able to read about 50 pages. I never was a speed reader, but I'm clearly rusty. Regardless, I was able to get into a rhythm, to sense the author's style, to see themes develop. The first few chapters are both heart-wrenching and awe-inspiring. I can't wait to carve out time to read more. Knowing now that the author recently lost his battle with cancer, I'm even more intrigued to we how he ends the book, his message to his sons. I want to see if he stays true to his word that the book would act as a reference later in life.
The lesson I learned today: I can still enjoy reading.
8.02.2013
Up North
This is more status update than blog post. I'll claim it's because I'm mobile, but it has more to do with it already being 11:00.
We are up north this weekend. Left the cities around 7:00. Made great time. It's a full house this weekend: Nana and Papa, uncle Brian and aunt Erica, cousins Logan and Brynn. And, or course, Delilah.
Time for bed. The lake and a car show tomorrow. Papa gets to show off his 1965 LeMans.
8.01.2013
3 Big Things Today
1. Grayson discontinued his cranial cap. That's right. G won't be wearing a helmet anymore. His head is as close to perfect as we are going to get it, and he has reached an age where the helmet would less effective. Basically, his head's growth rate has slowed significantly. This is a huge day for him, and for us as parents. I can't count the number of times I've been asked why G had a helmet... was it because he has seizures? I understand why people ask, but it gets tiring trying to explain that your son is normal, that he doesn't have a neurological or mental disorder that requires him to protect his head. No more. G gets to feel the wind in his hair (and the edge of the coffee table on his forehead).
2. Gay marriage became a thing in Minnesota today. I've written enough about this in the past, so I won't write much... but this is a big day. Starting at midnight, 42 couples were married at Minneapolis City Hall by the mayor. Crowds cheered. Couples kissed. Love was recognized, honored and celebrated. Yay. I can't wait to see more couples get married. I have a feeling in 50 years, people will look back on this day the way they look back on Rosa Parks today. Also, yay to Rhode Island. Same thing; different state.
3. Grayson was born 10 months ago. This means that he has officially spent more time outside the womb than he spent in it. I can't believe how much he has changed and grown, especially over the last 2 months. He is about ready to walk; you can see his mind churning, working to figure out how he is going to get around. Talking is also around the corned. Life will change. Again. Loving every minute of it.
2. Gay marriage became a thing in Minnesota today. I've written enough about this in the past, so I won't write much... but this is a big day. Starting at midnight, 42 couples were married at Minneapolis City Hall by the mayor. Crowds cheered. Couples kissed. Love was recognized, honored and celebrated. Yay. I can't wait to see more couples get married. I have a feeling in 50 years, people will look back on this day the way they look back on Rosa Parks today. Also, yay to Rhode Island. Same thing; different state.
3. Grayson was born 10 months ago. This means that he has officially spent more time outside the womb than he spent in it. I can't believe how much he has changed and grown, especially over the last 2 months. He is about ready to walk; you can see his mind churning, working to figure out how he is going to get around. Talking is also around the corned. Life will change. Again. Loving every minute of it.
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