Intellectual Poison

Edwards endorsement pays off for Obama and should send another strong signal to the Hillary camp that now is the time to display some grace in defeat and bow out of the race so you can retain a shred of dignity.

As it is, every day that goes by and Hillary keeps on fighting an unwinnable battle, the GOP snickers and laughs and keeps planning their swift boat assault on Barack once the in-fighting has ceased.

Hillary, for the love of democracy, you need to quit the race. It isn't a race anymore, its a flogging and your ass is the one getting beat. Quit now, quit soon, quit so the party can come back together and pound the snot out of the GOP so we can start to repair 8 years of Bush stupidity and ego-wanking.

Please, Hillary. I don't want to hate you but I'm finding it increasingly hard to not see you as a shrill, double standard holding, selfish and self-absorbed party cancer. Which is a shame because I used to hold you in pretty high regard. How quickly your stock has fallen and it certainly hasn't been helped by jumping up and down and all the screeching and poor behavior.

Tomorrow is Bike-Walk to Work Day and you are highly encouraged to get your butt in the saddle and work up a sweat on the way to work instead of cooling your heels in your SUV.

I rode in this morning as I am at my nearby school today and there's no chance I'm riding tomorrow (the official Bike to Work Day) as that would mean a 16+ mile ride out on Freedom Blvd where people drive like idiots and there are long, long hills.

I'm all for bicycling where possible but I'm not so much for riding where the roads are really poorly set up to accommodate cyclists. Its just too easy for a distracted jackass to run you down and not even notice it.

But I got my ride in already, got here in pretty good time and feel pretty good about myself for doing it. Plus, it is going to be a freakin' scorcher today (it was over 80 degrees in Santa Rosa at 7 am this morning!) and I needed the excuse to wear shorts and a tank top.

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Jenna Bush's wedding photos
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Anything to do with Jennifer Lopez
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Anything to do with Madonna unless its her neighbors publicly calling for her eviction
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American Idol
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The Sex and the City movie or anything to do with Horseface Jessica Parker
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The sham that is the Olympics in China
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Whether John McCain wears boxers, briefs or Depends
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Jennifer Aniston
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How loud you can play your bad music while you cruise around doing nothing all night in your oversized, gas-sucking SUV
......

Labels: do not care

I've been summoned by the government to potentially serve on a jury in United States District Court in San Jose. Which would be kind of interesting and somewhat cool if I wasn't working, lived closer and the trial was interesting.

But I live in Watsonville, which is like forty miles away from San Jose, I have a job that's winding down and I need to get as many work days in while I can.

The "compensation" for jury duty is a joke, of course, but they also reimburse for travel expenses so it wouldn't be a total wash. Still, I'd rather be working than sitting in judgment of someone else's misdeeds. No wait, I don't mind judging others, I just need to get paid more for it.

But I was supposed to call in on Sunday to find out if I'd been selected. Since I was sick all of last week, it slipped my mind and I finally called in last night, expecting them to rip me a freshie but got a recording telling me I haven't been selected yet and to call back after 5 in a couple of days.

I'm not against civil service and jury duty in general but its a bit on the ridiculous side to expect someone to travel such a long distance, especially if the trial starts at 8 or 9 every morning. That would mean a ridiculously early departure, slogging through the gnarly commute over 17 and then a long, late drive home as well. All for a piddling $40? No thanks.

So keep your fingers crossed that they do not require my particular services this time around.

Labels: jury duty

Pitching to Lance Berkman is almost as stupid as pitching to Barry Bonds when he had his A game swing going. The Giants lost last night's game despite an excellent effort from Barry Zito (who looked good and carried himself with confidence that's been missing for the last few months) because they tried to pitch to Berkman.

The guy is absolutely white-hot right now. Do not give him any pitches to hit. Walk him. Frustrate him. Do not try to beat him, let him beat himself.

Unless its Cain or Lincecum pitching AND its early in the game (i.e. fresh arms) there's just no upside to going after him, most especially with a man on because that makes his dongers more painful.

Other than that, I think Zito pitched a helluva game and hope he's turned a corner and will resume some of his swagger from when he had his confidence and could throw that big old nasty curve on ya.

Note, I'm advising the Giants in direct opposition to my fantasy baseball needs as Berkman is one of my studs (along with Josh Hamilton). I love the Giants THAT much!

Labels: baseball, fantasy baseball

One of the most difficult aspects of job hunting for me is trying to narrow down my search into a single job title. Professionally my experience pegs me as a Public Relations/Marketing wonk but the lines between my PR/Marketing skills blur considerably when you toss in my recent and relevant site tech support work, my previous data analysis and regurgitation, the conferences I've organized and run, my photography experience and a dozen other skills that are relevant but make me harder to pigeonhole.

Add into my experiences, the intangibles that I bring to the table, my creativity, my positivity, my drive, my ability to either step up and run the show or work in the background, my inherent geekiness and love of technology, my evangelism and innate curiosity and I end up in a pile of possible job titles that can be applied to me but none quite fit me as perfectly as I'd like.

My ideal job position at this stage would be to work as the business equivalent of the sweeper position in soccer. The sweeper can go to where he/she is needed the most, either in direct support of the offensive effort or getting back and providing extra horsepower on defense.

My ideal job title will be a mouthful: PR/marketing/tech/advertising projects leader generalist with evangelism, training and tech-passion.

My ideal company would be: a smaller tech-focused company just on the cusp of greater things, in need of workers with vision, flexibility and capability to shepherd multiple concurrent projects.

Oh yeah, and to top the whole work thing off. I met with my boss on Friday and he was happy to tell me that there will very likely be a job for me in the fall if I'm still looking for work. Which is nice to know. It won't be at my current schools as two of the three have lost the funding for my position but that's alright. At this point, I'm going to keep my current job in my back pocket and hope I don't have to play it though its nice to know I do have it, sort of.

Labels: job title, work

We've been on a little bit of a movie watching tear of late, a tear for us is getting through two or three movies in a week.

Part of this tear is because our local supermarket has installed an easy means of movie renting and returning without the need to interact with anyone (have I ever mentioned how many people I talk to in a given day? it can be somewhat overwhelming). Choose your movie, swipe your card, get your movie and go.

Plus, I'm not(oops) checking movie reviews via iPhone before choosing one to help cut down on the crappy movies.

We watched The Waterhorse the other night and I rather liked it though they really stretched the family rating with the violence and gunfire towards the end. Not especially appropriate for the younger viewers like Grady. But gorgeous scenery and pretty well done, if a little maudlin at times but that's part of the Scottish culture so it fit.

The movie we watched last night was okay and suffered because it tried to be more than it needed to be while leaping past important story elements. The movie was Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium starring Dustin Hoffman and the effervescent Natalie Portman (sporting a slick Aubrey Hepburn-esque look and hairstyle). The movie had its moments where it was entertaining and beautiful but it also had too many moments where it felt like it was trying (and failing) to be a new Willy Wonka.

But, amid the pap and trying-too-hard-Hoffman, there were a couple of quotes that I really liked and stuck with me.

The first is:

Your life is an occasion. Rise to it.

The second is actually a mini scene:

Mr. Edward Magorium: 37 seconds.
Molly Mahoney: Great. Well done. Now we wait.
Mr. Edward Magorium: No. We breathe. We pulse. We regenerate. Our hearts beat. Our minds create. Our souls ingest. 37 seconds, well used, is a lifetime.

The movie could have been better, it could have developed more characters from the cardboard cutouts (Jason Bateman needed to thaw alot earlier and more noticeably). But at least they had some memorable lines. Some movies don't even have any of those.

Or my name ain't Nathan Arizona! Yes, Peter, that was for you.

Labels: movie, quote

A rare forward from my busy brother....(my comments in italics)

Baseball's All-Scandal Team featuring:

First base: Mark McGwire Mob informers are easier to find than Big Mac
Second base: Billy Martin
Shortstop: Miquel Tejada The only active player on the list
Third base: Wade Boggs
Catcher: Paul Lo Duca Lo Duca was news to me but it makes sense
Left field: Barry Bonds Even without the steroid taint, he's got more skeletons than a coroner
Center field: Ty Cobb Truly one of the nastiest and least sportsmanlike stars of all time
Right field: Darryl Strawberry Should have been named Sniffberry but they got the straw part right
Designated snitchhitter: Jose Canseco Self-absorbed bitter needle junkie with terrible hair and a penchant for turning on former friends and teammates
Pitcher: Roger Clemens The poster child for bluster, lies, obfuscation and, eventually, tearful admissions and then jailtime, I hope
Pitcher: Dwight Gooden Dr. Feelgood and Straw were like a coke sniffing baseball star duo, they strike out and hit home runs during the day and snort massive piles of Columbian flake
Pitcher: John Rocker Racism IS alive and well in major league sports
Bench: Albert Belle, Rafael Palmiero, Sammy Sosa, Mickey Mantle Palmiero is the poster child for stupidity and hypocrisy, Sosa's the poster child for post-steroid pump shrinkage (he turned into his little brother when he went off the juice) and Albert Belle's the poster child for 'roid rage
Manager: Pete Rose I believe Pete Rose has gotten a raw deal and should be in the Hall for his accomplishments as a player and its a joke he's being held out because of a personal vendetta
Owner: George Steinbrenner Owners should own, players should play, coaches should coach and the Steinbrenners should SHUT THE HELL UP ALREADY!
Trainer: Brian McNamee I have no animosity towards McNamee except for that his injections helped the Yankees cheat and win more games than they had a right to. On second thought, burn him!

I skipped over some of the lessor known and not so contemporary players to focus on these fellas. I find it rather interesting that, of all of those listed above, one is still playing, Miquel Tejeda. The rest have gone into hiding or are scaring the shit out of local yokels on company teams (can you imagine facing John Rocker at the company picnic?).

It may not be actually true but it seems like the majority ran afoul of cocaine and hot chicks (or in Clemens' case, HGH and fugly country singers).

Who else should be on the list?
I'd say Ken Caminiti's one, Jeff Kent should get an honorable mention for being such an ornery liar (broke his wrist riding his motorcycle in contradiction to his contract and lied about it), Scott Boras (not a ball player but he's done as much more harm to the game than any other non-player by disvirtue of his contract negotiations and escalating salaries) and Bud Selig (complicit and profited from rampant steroid use as owner and commissioner). I'm sure there are plenty, plenty more that could be added here.

[Update: Big Joe read the post before I'd had a chance to amend it to remove Tony Gwynn from the list. I'd crossed my wires and was thinking about Kirby Puckett who got crazy after his retirement and might have been crazy during his playing days. Apologies to Padres fans and fans of Mr. Gwynn. My brain isn't quite up to full speed after last week's meltdown.]

Labels: baseball, cheaters, cocaine, steroids

It feels like I've been through a battle (the likes of which I'll not disturb you with) and I'm still a bit sore from the whole thing. But I am back on my feet again and not half doubled over in pain anymore, which is kind of a refreshing change.

And just in time to go back to work tomorrow. Some interesting happenings on that front.

It feels like spring has just sprung or I just got a new pacemaker or something. I'm pretty damned happy to be alive again.

Labels: health

Neccophilia - a compulsion to have sex with a Necco wafer or wafers.

Not a word for widespread use and likely not even a new word but it made me smile a little bit and that's all I need.

Labels: nwotd

You do not, in fact or theory, own the road. You do not, in any way, shape or form, own the parking lot outside Safeway and you most definitely do not have any right to treat crosswalks and people in them like personal insults.

You'd do well to slow down, learn that other people exist in the universe and not try to run people, like me, over just because you're too high and goddamned mighty to depress your brake pedal in your expensive ego-stroke of a car.

Or, if you do, don't look so pissed off when someone, like me, reminds you what a crosswalk is all about. Or just keep your windows rolled up and your wraparound sunglasses firmly in place. Or you could just run me over and we'll see how long you keep that car while cooling your heels in jail for attempted manslaughter. Or you could just slow down and show a mote of grace when someone is in a crosswalk in front of you.

As it is, you provided a moment's entertainment to a mother and her daughter who overheard my spur of the moment education I attempted to impart to you about crosswalk manners. I'm sure the lesson was lost when it bounced off your coif or your superiority complex though.

Seriously though, show some class, show some societal concern, show some manners, slow down, cede the right of way and quit being such an uptight lead-footed bitch.

Sincerely,
Erik

Labels: crosswalk, driving, manners

During my long day of complaining, my wife mentioned that she had a stomachache around this time two years ago. If you can call being nine months pregnant a stomachache.

Sullivan was born the next day and will turn two friggin' years old tomorrow. To say that the kid is a pistol is an understatement.

The delight he takes in baiting his big brother and the twinkle he gets in his eye when he grabs the centerpiece toy from Grady and runs like only he can run. His grin gets even bigger when Grady chases him screaming. This happens pretty regularly but we are working on teaching Grady how to not react which will, hopefully, convince Sully to find another way to have fun.

Happy Birthday, Sullivan. May your next year see you find a wee bit of restraint and some way to take just the top edge off your scream (or you can choose to employ your scream less often, that would be alright too). Either way, you never fail to make me smile even when you're being a wicked little bugger.

Labels: birthday, raising children

I've been pretty quiet this week and especially the last few days. The main reason for this is that I've had the worst case of gastro upset I've had in the last five or ten years.

What this means in my moment to moment is that it feels like someone has been kicking me in the stomach for the last few hours, they switched to my kidneys for an hour or two and then back to kicking me in the stomach again.

To say that this week has sucked would be pretty strong understatement. I stayed home from work yesterday, will stay home again today and really just want to stop feeling like I got run over by kicking machine. Oh and I wouldn't mind if my bowels stopped their rebellion as well.

Lovely post, eh? Be glad you're not living it.

Labels: nausea, sick

100 Hypermiling / ecodriving tips & techniques for better mpg.

Good info on how to make the most of your car's efficiency to get every last inch out of that gas that is going to do nothing but get more expensive.

Be careful with the over-inflation of tires though. Too much pressure plus too much speed plus too much heat build up can equal a really, really bad day and a car rolling multiple times.

Once upon a time there was almost nothing more important to me than page views, entry pages, exit pages and time spent on site. I had a compulsion to check my SiteMeter stats multiple times per hour, dozens of times per day.

Because there was, at the time, a sense of clicks = cash. And there still is an equation that relates greater income production to higher click throughs.

Only, somewhere along the way, I stopped caring in the least about traffic. I stopped caring who read my blogs and started caring alot more about who comments, who comes back and who has their own blog I can read as well.

I can't remember the last time I checked my site stats nor can I remember the last time I got a check from Google AdSense for the traffic I do generate on my alternative blogs but I'm sure another will show up some day and it'll be nice to have a "free" $100 to spend. Usually it just goes back into the tech, either some new widget or webspace or a domain registration.

Anyway, I just thought it was kind of an interesting evolution of my blogging to have cared soooooo much about traffic to now not giving it the slightest thought.

Labels: blogging, traffic