The Interview

We are in the process of hiring for the Enterprise. This is a very involved process. It takes weeks from start to finish. We do what's called an N+2. What this means is that for every person hired, three are interviewed. It's the process of interviewing that is most interesting.

Of course the people being interviewed put their best foot forward, well they try to anyway.

There was a case of a guy trying to impress. When he was asked a question about databases. "What kind of databases are you familiar with? Are you familiar with DB2?"

"Yeah, sure" he said "DB2, DB3, whatever it takes." Right. Of course, there is no such thing as a DB3.

Today another guy was being interviewed. When asked what kind of programmer he was:

"Well, you know" he said "there are two types of programmers."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, there is the average programmer and then there is the one that does what that guys says." He then pointed straight up. "There is only one god" he continued "and he's the one that I listen to. If he wants a bug in the program, then there will be a bug in the program."

O...kay.

...dave
The trouble with programmers is that you can never tell what a programmer is doing until it's too late. (Seymour Cray)

Katrina Aftermath

One of the alarming aspects of the disaster is the looters. Although unjustified, many people are going after things they need to survive.

Then It occurred to me, Why not open all stores for free access? Think of how this would work.

In the event of a natural disaster, open all stores to everyone. Here are the advantages:

1) People have immediate access to their daily needs
2) They could distribute the items to others close at hand
3) Eliminates the black market. All things are free, no one can charge or price gouge.
4) Gives Federal and charity relief time to reach the affected areas

But will not businesses go bankrupt? Some will. Some do now. Big businesses already have charity programs. so Items given away free in a disaster could be reimbursed by those programs. Small businesses could be reimbursed by the Federal government.

Of course, there will be people that hoard and try to sell the items. But this is happening now. It would be no different opening all stores to everyone, it certainly would not be worse.

I really can't think of a reason why this would not work.

...dave
"Sorrow comes to all...Perfect relief is not possible, except with time. You cannot now realize that you will ever feel better and yet you are sure to be happy again." -Abraham Lincoln

Katrina

Georgia was hit by the storm. In Carroll County one news story showed a huge chicken farm wiped out. Evidently the owner went out to check on them just as the tornado touched down and burred him under debris. He is in critical condition. I can't imagine what he thought he could do out there. His bobcat was picked up and then thrown down 200 feet away. His truck was flipped upside down by the tornado. There is extensive damage through out the area. Carroll County is about an hour away from us.

In Spalding Country, just about an hour and a half south of us, a house was picked up by a tornado 200 feet in the air, with two people in it, and slammed down again. There was nothing left. Unbelievably, the people survived.

Trailers are everywhere in Georgia. They didn't fair well. They disintegrated, like balsa wood and rice paper run over by a steamroller.

So much damage has occurred already at 4:00 p.m. today, about the time I left from work.

In Mobile, Alabama, the floods are greater than in 90 years previous.

In Louisiana, some reports say the storm is bigger then Ivan last year. 250,000 people without power. Some of the waterworks use pumps. One oil rig came loose and wedged itself under a bridge.

Cell phones are down, so much for wireless.

...dave
As soon as there is life there is danger. -Ralph Waldo Emerson

Open House

On the way back from town we decided to stop in on a few open houses. We're thinking it might be an education in what people do to prepare their homes for the market.

When we aren't looking for an open house, the signs for them are pointing in every direction and appear on every corner. We did find a few. One in particular stood out.

As we drove into the cal-de-sack a group of teenagers were climbing into a car. Some of them were yelling to their friends in the house. Two houses over was the open house. As we walked up the driveway, a car pealed out. Some of the teens came out of the house, jumped into another car and pealed out after them, but in reverse! They yelled out of the car: "Don't buy that house, it's a bad neighborhood."

I looked over my shoulder just as the car spun around forward. A teen in the passenger's seat tossed a glass bottle out the window, it exploded in a crash in the street. Do I even want to continue up the driveway?

The people were friendly, in their 60s. They had done several things to upgrade the house. The place was immaculate. As Ruth followed the wife through the house I asked the man: "How's the neighborhood?" He grimmiced. I'm so bad.

We looked at several other homes and then stopped into a new subdivision. We just wanted to check out how they are building these new units. What I didn't expect was the cost of the HOA (homeowner's association fee). First she wanted me to fill out all kinds of stuff. I asked her: "Do I have to fill out all this stuff?" I gave her some info, but very little. Finally she started to tell me that the HOA is $1200 a year! But get this, they charge $1000 dollars initially. That means that it would cost $2200 in the first month of move in just for HOA. They must be crazy. Yet there are some people that have already moved in. I'm just not seeing it. The only reason I can think of that would enable them to get this kind of cash is the golf course the homes were built around. But who wants a golf ball in their window. And here's the thing, you have to sign a waiver that says you, the homeowner, is responsible for repairs to your home. Yeah, I'm up for that, where do I sign?

When we got home, I took a fresh look at our house. I donned my jeans and t-shirt and went out and mowed the lawn

...dave
To believe in one's dreams is to spend all of one's life asleep. -Chinese Proverb

Art Booth

Eric decided to rent a booth in Grant Park to display his art pieces. He spent some bucks painting, copying, mounting, and matting them. Then he spent hours in Grant Park, in the heat, watching people pass by. It was a bit discouraging. The good thing is that he got a little education in the process. An education such as: what people look for, how to display, how to encourage folks to 'come on in and look around' even though it was just a 10x10 tent.

Ruth and I went down to check it out. The area used to be a rough part of town but it's coming back.

The art work included some good stuff. Paintings, photography, and welded iron pieces were some of the stuff that attracted me. One booth included some rough yarn sewn into life-sized people and animals. What would I do with it? I don't even know what it is. Is it carpet or wall hangings? I asked a few people. They were clueless, they responded: Who knows?

When I cruise by these booths, I take a glance and make a decision about going inside in about a second. I can tell right away if there is anything in there that would appeal to me. Jewelry? Skate right by. Scarfs? Not interested. And that was a strange one. This lady was selling multi-colored scarfs in 94 degree weather! What is she thinking? She sat alone, with the scratchy thing wrapped around her neck for display.

There was everything there, including booths selling food. I even saw "Genuine Hawaiian Shave Ice" for sale. That's what the booth said. They even had a genuine Hawaiian grass skirt draped across the machine, so it must be true. I was trying to figure out how on earth they'd get the ice here FROM Hawaii. But it was good stuff, not as good as Haleiwa shave ice though.

I remember the last time I was in Hawaii. I took a motorcycle tour around the island. When I stopped in Halaeva I got their shave ice. They put a little real ice cream at the bottom of the cone. It gives the icy treat a creamy taste. THAT'S genuine Hawaiian Shave Ice.

I bought one of Eric's pieces. It's a picture of a shark dressed in a suit sitting at the top of a step ladder. He's holding a briefcase. His dorcel fin rests on his knee. Below him, at the base of the ladder, is a small fish skeleton. I'm going to put it up in my work cube for my boss to see it.

...dave
I found I could say things with color and shapes that I couldn't say any other way.. things I had no words for. -Georgia O'Keeffe

Posthumous Pardon

Lena Baker will receive a posthumous pardon 60 years after the State of Georgia electrocuted her for killing her "master" in self-defense. But really, a posthumous pardon? Who is being pardoned? She is dead, how will she "receive" the pardon.

Yeah, I know we are splitting hairs here and it's a way for the State to admit wrong. I know it's good for the families to receive the pardon but like one of the descendants said: "No sheaf of papers will bring anyone back."

It's appalling. When I read about what happened the day and night of the death of her "master" I feel a churning in my gut. Such atrocities. How much of this stuff occurs each day? Unnoticed?

Said one source: "Ms Baker was tried by an all white male jury and no forensic evidence was supplied.   Her family were not permitted to mark her grave with her name until 1998 and only received a proper funeral in 2003."

One blogger called it an irrevocable error. Lena Baker was excuted less than 7 months after the sentencing. She was the first and only women excuted by the state of Georgia.

...dave
I am somehow less interested in the weight and convolutions of Einstein's brain than in the near certainty that people of equal talent have lived and died in cotton fields and sweatshops. -Stephen Jay Gould

Habitat Helper

Whew...my back is killing me.

Our company assists with the Habitat program. This program builds houses for needy families. As sort of a "Team Building" exercise, our IT Department was assigned a day this week. I was a bit apprehensive for many reasons. One of them being that since I work in an office, swinging a hammer on an extension ladder makes me hurt.

We had to car pool and our driver was one of those morning people, but none of us were. He was all chipper and all. "Which radio station would you like to listen to?" He said in a piercing tone. I only had a cup of oatmeal breakfast and no coffee. I wasn't feeling it. He wouldn't fire up the air conditioner, it was 85, because in his words: "You may as well get used to it now." That's how the day started.

When we got there we found a house up on a mound of Georgia clay and set back about 30 feet from the street. The neighborhood looks like a war zone, single family homes crumbling on either side of the street. One of the houses across the street had one of those blue tarps for roofing material. You get the picture.

The first job was to cart all the tools up the hill, about 20 feet above street level. There was a little safety meeting about how to use a ladder and we were off to unload the materials from the semi truck.

I had mentioned to someone that I needed coffee. They offered their thermos in their van. While I was away drinking my coffee, they assigned people to shingle the roof and install the insulation. Cool. When I got back I was assigned to exterior siding. We cut and nailed what's called hardy plank. It's a pressboard material that's been primed. Not really great quality.

After climbing up and down ladders for four hours we got a little bag lunch. As I sat down on the grass and started to eat my sandwich, I had to fight off ten files at every bite. If I stopped to sip a soda, I had to wrap the sandwich up in paper. If I didn't, five of them would land on my meat. I later learned that there are several cesspools in the area that were not properly maintained. (No wonder it smells like a pig farm out back.)

After lunch there were group pictures and then back to work. Oh how hard it is to get moving again.

I was able to make it through the day without pounding any of my fingers (others were less fortunate), but I've got blisters on every finger on my right hand.

By 3:30 we had put planks on three sides of the house and the contractors seemed happy with our progress. It was about time to end it all. My hand and arm were cramping up. Several others had the same problem. They were pounding in nails with two hands or trying to switch hit with the other non-dominant hand. This lead to great problems like cracked planks, bent nails, and purple thumbs. Me and my buddy were the last two to walk off the job.

We were so hot we left the sliding van doors open as we snaked through the narrow lanes. A zealous motorcycle cop saw us through a cross street, raised his gloved finger, pointed at us, and said through is windscreen: "You, close those doors." Sheesh. These cops sure have a power trip going on. "Lighten up buddy. It's only a tiny neighborhood lane! Don't you have some murderers to chase?"

On the trip back we got air conditioning, There would have been a mutiny if he didn't switch it on. I was grateful.

All in all I really had a great time. I enjoy working in the building trades. There is a great deal of satisfaction when you look back at your work, like the side of house you've just completed. That's pretty tough to do with software. I mean, you can't really see those bits and bytes GOING anywhere. Its so ethereal.

Besides, it's good to do good for others. The householder was a happy camper.

...dave
The best way to keep good acts in memory is to refresh them with new. -Cato

Habitat

Tomorrow is the Habitat build. I've never done one of these so don't know what to expect. Just a lot of back breaking work I'm sure. It's a project that builds a house for a needy family.

It's sponsored by the Enterprise. They want IT to support it. I'm bringing my tool belt, gloves, and boots.

Hey, maybe afterward I can convince some to join me at my house to finish off a few projects.

...dave
Sure I'm for helping the elderly. I'm going to be old myself someday. - Lillian Carter, Jimmy Carter's mother at age 85

Chinese Talk Aftermath

Chinese talk is over. As I read with knitted brow, all in attendance patiently listened and nodded, maybe they were sleeping. I later asked them if they could understand me. They all said: "Yes, we can understand what you say." but they were just being polite.

At work I have several opportunities to speak with Chinese associates. They seem to understand. In fact, today I met our IT Director in China. We had a chance to speak briefly. I'm hoping for a lunch with him next week. It's at the ground level over there. He's the only guy in IT.

Today someone gave me an assignment to translate ten Chinese characters. When you can't even read the characters this is a challenge. I have a great dictionary though, so I'm making progress. I'll have it done by morning, if I don't sleep.

...dave

Chinese Talk

I've got my first Chinese talk tomorrow. It's supposed to be five minutes but if I go any slower it'll be an hour talk. I've been working hard on it, but it's depressing just how hard this stuff is, at least for me.

But this ain't so with others it seems. A 15 year old giggles when I comment. My wife picks this stuff up while sleeping. She's just going to read it. My reading in Chinese is strained and choppy.

I'm jealous over little Erin. She's a little two year old who's father teaches Chinese. She is exposed to Japanese, Chinese, and English. She's only two years old. Did I already say that? If only my parents had sent me to a Chinese school when I was two, then my troubles would be over. Then these Chinese words would roll off my tongue and I could spend my time in other fruitful endeavors, like writing daily blogs for example.

But until that, and that will prove to me some time from now for sure, I'll have to be satisfied with blood, sweat and tears.

...dave
I personally believe we developed language because of our deep inner need to complain.  ~Jane Wagner

Business Buzzwords

We make fun of them, we laugh at them, and sometimes we try to put them all in one sentence just for fun. At every meeting I hear someone use (or shall I say, overuse) these buzzwords. Now, I get ill just thinking of them. They've become meaningless.

But I forget about those who are not from this country. They are totally lost when they hear these terms. They could attend an entire meeting, listen to a string of these terms and not get anything out of the meeting. Not that anyone does. These terms have lost all meaning. They are just, how shall I say, ear candy.

Turn of the crank, bottom line, P&L, block and tackle, zilch, nada, nothing. What do these mean to anyone? It's like eating cotton candy. It looks like substance but it turns to sweet air as soon as you put it into your mouth. Here are a few more:

team dynamics - team
push the envelope - be creative
best of breed - best software/hardware for a given task
drill down - understand the meaning
dog and pony show - a presentation with lots of glitz (usually a Microsoft Power Point with animated stuff)
herding cats - can't get organized
train wreck - disaster without recovery
future-proof - plan for the future, (It indicates that what is presented is a sure thing, but what is?)
vision statement - plans
think outside the box - be creative (see: push the envelope)
leverage - use
involuntary retirement - forced out of the company
dash-boarding - quick reference of key numbers/graphs
work smarter - more work with less pay
same page - understanding each other
synergy - working together

...and more. When business people string this stuff together by eyes begin to form a glaze over them. The people in the room grow out of focus, and the din of the speaker is barely perceptible. Are they talking a foreign language? What are they saying? It takes so much energy translating this stuff in my head, I just bail (tune out).

Most of it is euphemisms. An interesting exercise would be to translate each one and provide a glossary to new people to the Enterprise.

Maybe I could charge for it!

...dave
'It's not a nontrivial task." What? This is a hard way to say it's easy.

Where to Die

We were talking tonight over dinner about suddenly dying. It came up because someone keeled over at work. He got dizzy and nauseous. Someone called the paramedics. They arrived and carted him off but he was dead on arrival at the hospital.

So then we got to talking about where we wanted to die, if we had a choice. Does it really matter? I mean, if you are about to pass out, there are other more pressing concerns. Like, What's wrong with me? Will I make it home tonight?

But then again, if I were walking down the street and suddenly passed out, that would not be a good thing. I'd rather be at home with my family. I've always imagined I'd be in some foreign country on a deserted alley, just about to pass out. I'd attract the attention of a street gang member, who peering over me, would check my pants pockets for my wallet. I'm somehow paralyzed and can't do a thing about it. That's an ugly feeling.

They are still looking into the cause of the guy's death today at work. One of the guys at work asked:

"What if you were working next to him? That would be intense!"

Initially, you might not realize that anything is wrong:

"Hey dude, what's up with the naps? Hello?"

...dave
Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome. -Isaac Asimov

Mower Headlights

That's what I'm going to install, lawn mower headlights. Because, after all, the rows are hard to see after dark and you can never rely on the street lamps for light.

Since the sun sets in the front of the house, the heat is intense by the time I get home from work. I waited until 7:00 but then the thunder storms came. It doesn't seem the course of prudence to be chopping the grass with a machine running by spark plug and a long metal handle serving as lightening rod. So I waited. The rain never came.

Eric usually cuts the grass but since his accident, it's grown so long I'm going to have to use a sickle to hack it down. I began my first row but before I could reach the end the mower coughed and sputtered, then stopped. At the end of every row I emptied the grass catcher. This is going to take a long time.

I ran out of gas. A trip to the gas station and back but now the light has left me. This is taking forever. I've been out here for two hours now. My lawn is so huge I swear it grows another inch by the time I finish mowing. I'm making circular patterns so that I don't have to stop at the end of the rows. Besides it looks cool.

Wait, what happened to my handle? It's loose. No, it's coming apart. It's missing the screw. Where is that bolt? I can hardly see out here. Here I"m feeling around the grass in the last swath of lawn behind me. Here is the knob, where is the bolt? Never mind. Let me find another one in my little shop downstairs. Here's one that will work. It's the bolt from a toilet. Back to the lawn.

Each time I filled up the wheelbarrow I ran it down the hill to the back of the house. I can't even count the number of trips I took. This is getting old. Meanwhile I re-start the mower when I get back.

My neighbors have come home late from work, their headlights shine over the stripes in my lawn and reveal rows that look like a corn field. I wonder what time it is?

The porch light shines on a third of the lawn and the street lamp blinks on and off, like a street lamp in the red light district. Will this lawn ever end?

Finally I make my final pass across the grass to neaten the rows. I come in and drink a gallon of water. I glance at the time. It's 10:00!

I'm just fortunate no neighbor came out with a shotgun! After all, in Kennesaw it's actually a law that everyone own one.

...dave
A lawn is nature under totalitarian rule. -Michael Pollan

Writing a Journal

I know it really sounds strange but journals keep my head on straight. It's the place to explore ideas and thoughts before I expose them to the general public for consumption. (This blog is the exception. I don't give this too much thought before a post, just a general look through. Can you tell?)

I like reading other people's journals, when invited to do so that is. It's interesting to read what others put in journals. So, my library includes books of other journals and books about what to put into your own.

Here are some great titles, if you are thinking about starting, but haven't, or are looking for new directions for your own journals:

The New Diary by Tristine Rainer
A Book Of One's Own by Thomas Mallon
Writing Your Life by Lou Willett Stanek
Writing Alone by Pat Schneider
Leaving A Trace by Alexandra Johnson

I'm hoping my friends and relatives write their lives down. I can't think of a better gift to leave behind than a book for close friends to read. A suggestion in Leaving a Trace was to go through your journal entries and cull the ones you want to share. Then put them into a separate book for posterity.

If you don't keep a diary or journal you can get books to help you remember the past so as to leave behind a trace for your kids. Mom asked me once what I wanted them to leave behind in their will. I can think of nothing better than a book about themselves.

Read Leaving a Trace or A Book of One's Own and tell me you don't agree.

...dave
After the writer's death, reading his journal is like receiving a long letter. -Jean Cocteau

The World is Flat

I've been reading a new book, The World is Flat by Thomas L. Friedman. It's true, it is. Really! Well not from a geometric perspective but from a technological perspective.

Just to give a little taste. Here's a quote from the first chapter "While I was sleeping"

"If you are an American, you better be good at the touchy-feely service stuff, because anything that can be digitized can be outsourced to either the smartest or the cheapest producer, or both."

His point, clearly made here, is that activities that can be digitized and decomposed will move around the world (thus the flatness) wherever and whenever a cheaper place is found.

Oddly enough, he makes some very interesting comparisons with Christopher Columbus and his world travels. It's not just interesting but well written.

...dave
"Riches don't make a man rich, they only make him busier." -Christopher Columbus

Foreign Experiences

Just last night we were all talking about some of the experiences we've all had visiting and living in foreign countries. There are so many things here in America that we just simply take for granted. Things we do every day that are just not common experiences in third-world countries.

My favorite experience, and one that clearly communicates how much we take for granted here, is from my sister and her husband. I certainly can't tell it like them but you'll get the idea.

They went to visit some friends in Peru. Travel is rough at best and public transportation is nothing more that an old bus traveling over pot holes in the bush. Some roads become washed out and the bus has to constantly re-route to circumvent the missing paths. In Peru you don't flush your toilet paper but dispose of it in a bin next to the John. This is because the sewage treatment can't handle the paper. It'll often back up.

Anyway they were traveling in a bus over a rough road when my brother-in-law had to use the can. He went to the back of the bus and was gone for some time. My sister was beginning to worry about him when finally he returned holding his stomach. He'd had a hard time back there. Now he was back.

She glanced down at where his pants met his shoes and was puzzled so asked: "Where is your socks?"

But he responded, without skipping a beat: "Don't ask."

...dave

Forest for the Trees

Just finished the book Forest for the Trees by Betsy Lerner. Very interesting account of what it takes to get a book into print. It's very hard. She says that if you think your book will make you money, you are better off investing in stocks. The chances are higher with stocks.

Every year there are 150,000 books that are released in the U.S. That's about 411 books a day! That's what's released, NOT was was rejected by editors. Even if you get someone to publish your book, the chances of making it big are remote. Next, buyers representing the various brick and mortars must purchase the book for their shelves, on which space is a premium. How many they buy is limited, unless your a known author.

Sometimes it takes many years and repeated rejections before you make it into publishing. In one case it was ten years and many revisions. Then there is the design of the jacket, the road tours, book store appearances, etc.

You really have to believe that you have something to say, or are prolific, to get published.

Still, it would be great.

...dave
Every person has a book inside of them, which is where it ought to stay.

Two guys with a mute button

There's never a day that goes by without finding something to laugh at. It's often a buddy of mine that provides all the entertainment at the office. Today was a great example.

We were on a conference call with two vendors in California. We are working on a joint project and they wanted us to provide some data to them. In fact, they want ALL our HR data. This is lunacy as anyone with a half a brain will deduce, if you consider the size of this Enterprise of ours. My buddy (I'll call him "Jerry") says to the seven people on the other end of the phone line:

"My concern here is the size of our systems. I mean, we have literally 50 different systems of HR data. Some of our data is here, some of it is external. It's big, it's huge."

"Yeah we know" was the reply "but we've done this before."

Well, if that were really true, they wouldn't be asking for all our data! They'd know how ridiculous this request is.

"Oh I'm sure you have, and we want to give you what you folks need." Jerry was saying to pacify them. "But we are talking millions and millions of rows of data here. We have data going back to 1986. It's never been deleted. This is not something that will just fit on a CD and sent along through the mail."

Jerry puts the phone on mute and looks at me and says: "Am I being ugly here? Am I being an idiot? Tell me and I'll shut up."

"No, no." I tell him. "They've got to be able to narrow it down better than that. Otherwise we'd need a semi truck full of CDs."

Jerry un-mutes the phone and we hear the others talking over each other trying to figure it out. One guy, the brilliant one, says:

"I'm really happy about all your data."

Jerry mutes the phone: "He likes our data! I'm so happy he likes it." He un-mutes the phone while I start to giggle.

The guy continues: "We do understand that your data is deep as well as wide. It sounds to be voluminous."

Jerry puts the phone back on mute while we begin to loose it. This guy said nothing but just repeated what we told him, and I'm not even sure he said that much. Just as soon as the phone is muted, Jerry mimics him like a good Saturday Night satire: "Well, yes, the data is deep as well as wide."

Then I retort: "It would be voluminous."

And then we just laugh and laugh.

We are having way too much fun.

...dave
I'm not a complete idiot, some parts are missing!

The Cigarette Lady

She's everything you imagine her to be, The Cigarette Lady is. She smokes like a oil burning car. Black soot is exhaled from her muffler, her mouth and nose. She's slumped over and sits on the concrete wall in the parking garage, with the other air polluting carcasses, the cars.

She's there every morning and afternoon. I see her at 7:00 a.m. when I walk in at the start of my day. She doesn't see me. She's reading her latest novel. She reads one a day because I never see her with the same book. It's always different.

Sitting next to her is the bucket of sand where she snuffs out her cancer sticks. This morning there were 23 butts sticking up out of the sand like tombstones. She didn't notice me, even when I walk right by her. She's engrossed in the pages of her story.

When I go out to lunch I sometimes walk by the same spot, and again at 4:00, she's there. When does she work? I don't know. She comes, punches in, and smokes and reads, then goes. How sad, how boring.

The Cigarette Lady

...dave
If you must smoke, take your butt outside.  ~Author Unknown

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

Last night we decided to use my AMC Theater golden tickets (the free tickets I got from work) to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Odd, my AMC passes were actually chocolaty looking. Anyway, we went to the 9:45 showing but I was disappointed.

I really enjoyed Johnny Depp in Pirates but I didn't find him very convincing as Willy Wonka. I liked Gene Wilder in the original film much better. He was stranger, more convincing, and funnier. I didn't like the fact that one guy plays all of the Umpa Lumpas either. They should have been different people, just like the original. Were they shaving dollars in the budget and so decided to use the same guy, just duplicated?

The songs were great -- except I couldn't understand all the words. It's not just that I'm getting old and can't hear so well (although I am) because I asked Lewis (Eric's friend) and he agreed that the words were difficult to make out.

The special effects were very good, especially the glass elevator. However, the candies, didn't look delectable. When I saw the candy garden I wasn't drawn to any of the sweet treats as I am in a real candy store, and that's really what the candy garden was supposed to be. Or maybe not. Maybe it was supposed to make you ill. Watching these people stuff their faces with creams and chocolate made me nauseous.

The ending didn't hold closely to the book either, although it was a good ending.

One of the funniest lines was when Willy Wonka (Johnny Depp) told Charlie that everything in the garden was eatable. He said: "Even I am eatable, but that's called cannibalism, and some cultures frown on that."

That's the kind of humor I was looking for in this movie. I was looking for the crazy nonsense that makes you think sort of humor. There were many key elements left out entirely. Slugworth didn't make an appearance. And Charlie and his grandpa didn't drink any Fuzzy Lifting Liquid, nor did they get in trouble.

Nope, I'll stick with the original flick.

...dave
You should never, never doubt what nobody is sure about. - Willy Wonka (Gene Wilder)
A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men. - Willy Wonka (Gene Wilder)

Drinkmor

Just down the street from the office are all kinds of free WiFi access points. I found this one just four minutes from work. Drinkmor is a coffee shop with a few gourmet sandwiches. "Gourmet sandwiches" I guess because the meat is on a croissant and the sandwich is served on a glass plate. The coffee is good, and there's even free refills.

I do worry about free WiFi places. Here is where bits are sent through the air. Anyone with a wireless computer can also monitor what you're sending, including the password to your email if it's not encrypted. There are a couple of guys here in baggy jeans and baseball hats also browsing the Internet. I just never know how technical any of these guys are. Usually they are better then most if they are hanging out in a free Internet access coffee shop. By the way, Drinkmor also supplies computers as well, so that if you don't bring yours you can use the ones here. The place is clean and the music volume is . . . mercifully low.

Since my computer usually tries to connect to my mail service as soon as I open it, that's a problem. I'll need to figure out how to login securely so that my password is not passed in the clear. Or at least not use the client and just browse to the secure yahoo page.

I don't carry around any music on my computer anymore. If you share your iTunes music, anyone in the place can also play music from your machine. Most folks don't care, I really wouldn't either. Fact is, none of these kids would even like the music on my machine. I worry that most of the places with the free Internet access don't have the best security controls in place. This may be one of them.

Fact is, I ain't doing much on the Internet that would be of interest to snoops, or snorters. Snorting tools (think of a pig rutting through a garden) is software used to sniff for electronic messages traveling through the wires, on in this case, through the air!

Really though, who cares about my email account? Even if someone got the password and sent an email, they could embarrass me at worst. Changing the password fixes that.

So if you get any messages that don't sound like me, you know what happened.

...dave
I feel like a pig, sometimes looking for truffles, maybe just kind of snorting around in the mud. -John Glover

One screw too tight

Okay, I admit it, it's true. I get just a little up tight sometimes. Someone read my blog and later told me that now they know what's wrong with me.

"It's not that you have one screw loose, it's just that one of your screws is too tight!"

Yeah, thanks for the psychoanalysis, dude, it's just what the doctor ordered.

Unfortunately, and this is the scary thing, my wife agrees.

...dave
You can never tell which way the train went by looking at the track

Coffee Friends

We were talking the other day about the types of friends we have. Some are coffee friends, others are dinner friends, and still others are day friends. Now you may be wondering: What kind of people are these? Believe me when I tell you, you have them too.

A Coffee friend is a friend that is good to visit with over a cup - but no longer. For whatever reason, you can't take much more than about 15 minutes with them.

A Dinner friend is different. Being with them is a little less stressful so you can last through a meal and it's no big deal. After that though, the ear membrane grows thin.

Now a Day friend is someone you can spend an entire 12 hours with. There is no problem being with them. Their laugh, their smile, their honest appraisal of themselves and of you, all make them appealing, even soothing, to be with.

Of course, Day friends rarely, if ever, get to spend an entire day with you. Why? Because they are in high demand. Everyone wants to be with them (whether they know about the coffee, dinner or day friends we speak of here).

So the key here is, be a Day friend. Oh, and please give me a call if you are. I'm always looking for more Day friends.

...dave
A friend is one who knows us, but loves us anyway. -- Fr. Jerome Cummings

Redensification?

The Enterprise has become a police state. They've "densified" (comes from making dense) our cubes. You say that you don't know what redensified means? Neither did any of us BEFORE the redensification. That's probably because if everyone DID know, there would be a riot. The Enterprise has decided to make our cubes 35% smaller! The cubes are 6x7 which is 42 square feet. Just enough for a chair and a work surface. The shelves hang from the cube panel.

What fun is this? I work in a closet. My walk-in closet at home is larger than my entire work area at the Enterprise.

But it's called Redensification. (I'm unsure if there has been a prior densification, thus the REdensification classification.) I may not be spelling it correctly because it doesn't exist in any dictionary I looked in. But I guess it sounds better then "pack them in like sardines." Oh, and that's another thing.

The cube cops came around and told the folks to get rid of their fish tank. No more natural things to look at while working. They want heads down, full-throttle, production producing drones. They don't want folks sprinkling fish flakes into a fish tank and dreaming of better environments. Oh, and while we are talking about fish and water, no more water cooler. Nope, it's an OSHA hazard. Too many empty water jugs loitering near the windows. We can't have that. Someone is liable to trip over a two and a half foot high water jug on the way to the bathroom. That'll never do.

So we're resigned to work in our steamer trunks, steaming, while the executives eat steaks on the top floors. Oh no, don't worry about us down here in the pits of despair. We'll manage. We'll just keep pumping out the code.

Never mind that all of this goes against the studies about office space in Peopleware by DeMarco.

One of the guys has decided to remove the work surface and replace it with a six foot couch and coffee table. Then he'll prop his feet up and do his work on his notebook in his lap. Kind of a passive aggressive approach.

...dave
The beatings will continue until morale improves.