Fans will know the reference of Dr. Orpheus “defeating” Iggy Pop. It’s a little goofiness at Somara’s desk I found funny.
Not only is it the last binary day on the calendar for almost a century (111111 = 63) yet there will be a special confluence of numbers next December, it’s most importantly the day dedicated to the legendary Spinal Tap guitarist! Then there’s something regarding the official end of WWI I heard about.
Anyway, I plan to celebrate at Alamo Drafthouse Lake Creek with a special showing of the moving in which we’re encouraged to quote and sing along. Who knows, maybe a special guest will show up to lead us in playing the air guitar for key jams. I’m bringing a spare from my Rock Band game.
May you all have as much fun as you can with this once in a lifetime opportunity.
Hi, I'm a slovenly Mac and John's a well-groomed PC
You probably don’t know John’s name but the role he did for Apple Computers during the mid- to late Aughts. Other times, he is a senior correspondent on The Daily Show when he is in New York. Last night he graced Austin with his wit, observations and to plug his latest book, That is All.
John’s book-signing was the longest I’ve ever attended in which the guest was the “cause” and not the long line to get a signature (Anne Rice, Alton Brown). This is a great thing. The guy is even more hilarious in person. First there was a whole getting ready routine, similar to how Cirque du Soleil messes with the audience. Next came his monologue, recording a pair of YouTube posts followed with readings from the book. John then generously used the podium to give Neal Pollack (an old friend, fellow author) time to promote his novel Jewball. Matters returned to John: Q&A, a moustache-judging contest and concluding the evening with a sing-along.
Originally I thought I was going to out of luck on this event. His appearance was announced last Thursday and was slated in five days. Jeremy scored the wristbands, tickets were just for seats, standing didn’t bother me, I sit all day at work. We were in the third group but John was willing to sign everyone’s copy because he was glad the crowd was there for him, not the upcoming Cake Boss guy.
My question for him was how he got to be on Battlestar Galactica. John played a brain surgeon who assisted Major Cottle remove a bullet from a Cylon’s head, the one married to Starbuck. He said he wrote about the show, met creator Ron Moore and it led to the opportunity (in short, paraphrased).
Meanwhile, should the opportunity arise that John Hodgman is coming to your city, I urge you to go. It’s equal to attending a solid stand-up routine but it’s more interactive.
iCal is adequate but its advantage with CalDAV (a protocol for communicating over networks/Internet) often was overshadowed by its lack of features, compared to Up2Date. Then I stumbled upon BusyCal which came with a 30-day trial.
BusyCal resembles iCal (Snow Leopard and earlier) yet what sold me was its ability to paste icons on to dates, weather forecasts and moon phases can be shown (up to five days and a month respectively), and notes. Plus it uses CalDAV or other cloud-based services if you wish.
The 30-day trial let me kick the tires for several weeks. Once I was convinced, Somara and I agreed to buy a family license (we saved $20). I’m still working out the kinks to get it to process invitations to people who do not belong to my server’s directory. This appears to be a gray area on what isn’t going through. However, if you receive something a Gmail address with this site as its name, fear not, it isn’t spam, it’s my calendar server inviting you to something one of us is coordinating.
Check it out here or the Mac App Store. The publishers have screenshots and it works with Lion.
The really nice couple we know over in Phoenix celebrate their marriage. I hope the weather is as nice today as it was the weekend they tied the knot. Being from Central Texas, the cool mornings, warm afternoons and mild evenings were par for the course. The Central Illinois contingent probably thought they could go swimming!
The gifts? Pottery, willow and leather. The latter is totally out because Rad is a vegetarian; if one doesn’t eat animals, wearing them probably isn’t cool. I’ll have to ask him since vegetarianism is like Atheism, it doesn’t have a known code of conduct all participants agree on, there’s no vegetarian pope or council to figure it out. Pottery? I guess a nice plant. Willow? Well, Rad is a fellow SciFi fan yet I think he would pass on a Blu-Ray copy of Willow.
We sent them a card but it’s a tad late. I hope they receive it, I put some effort into the gag. Meanwhile, if you know our friends, drop them a line, congratulate ’em! We hope they’ll make it to Vegas to celebrate with us in 2013. I do owe them a wedding.
Rental cars are cool when you’re on vacation but they suck big time as loaners while your main wheels have to be repaired.
If you recall, our Honda Fit was smacked by an unobservant SUV driver. Allstate dragged its collective ass on getting the claim processed, their commercials I’ve seen only raise my ire, more than Capitol One’s fraudulent claims; what’s in your walled? With all the identity thefts they’re involved with, I’d say, “not a valid photo ID!”
The good news was seeing the nice people at Masters again. They took care of the scratches last year when some dude’s red truck got whipped into the Honda. Gotta’ love the windy season! When we picked up our car this morning, it was fantastic looking, uber-clean and had the “new car” smell! Yes, I know, you can buy the scent in an aerosol can, they don’t make flatuscents…yet.
Meanwhile, the loaner we had for almost a week from Enterprise did Toyota no favors. Normally I look forward to their models. The Corolla was a disappointment. It handled and guzzled gas as if it were built by GM. Memories of the Alero readily came to mind. Then the coup de grace happened last week. After we parked it at work, I found a partially eaten cookie in the passenger-side compartment. Ugh! We’ll still stick with Enterprise in Las Vegas and at home, they’re up the street. We’ll remember to set our expectations differently. Sexy cars are in Vegas, near the airport. Mediocre, mules are in the ‘burbs.
Confucius didn't know that money talks, bullshit walks.
I feel comfortable enough to finally announce the good news, pardon me if I’ve already told some of you.
During the month of November (four weeks), I will be working in a back-fill capacity with an engineering-level team. We phone techs call them Tier Three because we occasionally escalate cases to that level if it entails matters outside the GUI, involves integration with a third-party OS (Active Directory readily comes to mind) or the customer has a special contract. Normally, when the word “engineer” is stated, people think of a designer, developer or programmer. I think it’s in their titles for salary and job-responsibility reasons because they do work with customers unlike a software designer would.
So what exactly will I be doing? Nothing terribly radical from what I already do. The difference is going to be the means and scope. Means: these engineers communicate by correspondence more often since their base prefers it, ergo, I will be drilled in writing etiquette by my Drill Sarge Dave. As you can tell, I love to write! This part I have no trouble with. Twenty-five years ago, I continued to turn in rewritten homework with my CoPA 001 teacher until I earned the grade I desired. My average was around once. Scope: the engineers work beyond the GUI frequently (their customers are versed in command line/Terminal), go the extra mile on solutions (the line stating the cut-off is “farther back”) and they file their findings with HQ directly; in my role, I submit mine through an intermediary engineering group. In short, these people are the Delta Force/Navy SEALs of technical support (SAS or GiGN in other nations).
Am I worried? I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t. Am I excited? You bet, this is the next level of challenges in what I’ve been doing for 18 years (I consider my DG gig the beginning). Do I want this spot permanently? Yes. I applied for an opening over the Summer, the interview went poorly. It didn’t bother me though. I got an interview! My foot was in the door and I had a great conversation with Sheree (she’s in the group and she has always been a supporter of my career over the last 10 years!); she explained the role which killed my initial fears and inhibitions. Inhibitions? Yeah. Over the last year, the managers of this team requested me for a backfill and I said, “thank you but I can’t, I have my duties and I’m not very smart.” Good thing those Tier Three people are nice and persistent.
I’ve digressed enough. It all starts tomorrow and I’m going to be working even harder than I already do. This may result in fewer updates, fewer e-mails being answered, rushed chats online/on the phone, etc. Please excuse me in advance and wish me luck. Everybody I know at Apple says, “You’ll be fine/great/successful.” They better know something I don’t! I keep hoping I will just black out for the month and go into the Avatar State, kicking ass as I go.
What would make this more awesome? The clerk applying this policy to future Has Been Katy Perry who has a scalping clause in her rider (a form of contract). I also love how the postscript snuffs out the hairsplitting these crooks can use on claiming to be a “broker.”
Don’t blame me entirely, these sickenly-cute parodies, remakes or tributes were referred to me from They Might be Giants’ Facebook posts. I wish I were better with Photoshop so I could do my own. Which album? Initially, I’m thinking Who’s Next due to the piss problem Nemo is having but it must be something which the artist’s face (or faces) are prominent.
Hmm…
Now I know! Moby’s best-selling album Play (it’s famous for having every track being licensed to commercials) which could easily have the singer/musician replaced by an action shot of the cat jumping! Am I good or what? It’s better than Pete Townshend’s more esoteric Empty Glass, replace the booze with milk.
Yeah, I haven’t posted in two days and this is the first piece of anything interesting I found to write about? With the rise of digital downloads, maybe it will matter a tad as an oddity? Call me a luddite and/or old fart but the instant-gratification iTunes, etc. gives people evaporates quickly compared to the long-term elation having a physical copy does. It’s due to my geeky nature for spending the time to go over the liner notes (nowadays called the CD booklet), find out if there’s guests participating.
Somara and I need to get back to work on Alexandria. All those CDs put away in shelves will be really cool.
Now to check out what arrived at Waterloo besides the long-awaited new album by Thomas Dolby and They Might Be Giants, two in one year for those guys!
Actually, I seem to be losing count with my health. During the Summer here I do pretty decently, maybe an occasional sore throat. But when the temperature drops, blech! Maybe I could classify this instance as a relapse from what I was suffering from earlier in October. Either way it sucked.
Last week I felt the symptoms coming on; sore throat, drainage and fatigue; there was little I could do about it. I managed to get most of Thursday off, tried to sleep it away which is the best pre-emptive strike. This worked until 3 PM because the cats decided, “Hey, you’re home! How about dinner?” ad nauseum. It’s as if they’re on the nursing home schedule for supper.
I felt adequate enough to get through Friday yet it was a nine-hour countdown to 5 PM, then Somara could take me home, make her awesome Sleepy-Time tea and zone out to Starblazers on Netflix. Fearing this wouldn’t be enough, I scheduled this Monday and Tuesday off while I spent the weekend in low gear. I was feeling better by Saturday morning which didn’t mean I was out of the woods. Past experience always reminds me about the times I did a 180 within hours, ergo, nothing but low-gear activity for those days. Sucked too. I missed a party, I couldn’t write as much (hard to focus thanks to the medication/fatigue) and chores were ignored. Anything which can make me break into a sweat, a hard lesson I learned in 1999.
Then you’d think life awesome after being on the mend. Sadly, it often the case for me. Over-the-counter stuff and abundant rest push me into the Depression zone. My doctor says it’s triggered by my going “on the hunt,” which is a polite way of thinking too much. Digging out becomes a struggle. It’s a major reason why I can’t watch Hoarders, I fear I could let it take control to the same extent it did to those unfortunate people.
So Picayune might go into a lower gear for a couple weeks with fewer updates. I need to go tackle some nagging concerns around the house, maybe get back on track with reading the Simon Pegg book I bought, clear the Netflix queue more and push the miles on the treadmill.
Good news will be coming soon. I just need to finalize it too.
The Deep South has often been on the wrong side of most American social issues (Slavery, Civil Rights, Mixed Marriages, Labor, etc.) but I readily admit the food is pretty awesome. President Clinton’s heart bypass proved how addictive it was.
One particular dessert they prefer has been immortalized in song by Southern Culture on the Skids and hits the spot whenever you have barbecue for lunch or a quick dinner…banana pudding, or as they say here ‘nanner puddin’. Personally, I also dig peach or blackberry cobbler with a scoop of Blue Bell vanilla yet it isn’t an option at Rudy’s (the McDonald’s of barbecue, for its ubiquitousness) and pudding can cater to a larger gathering.
Now there’s more to it than just getting a carton from the local grocery store or those little snack-packs. The real deal must have slices of banana mixed throughout and Vanilla Wafers lining the edges and surface, for dipping. Lastly, it has to age in the ‘fridge at least a day so the cookies can soak up the moisture in the pudding. I think something happens to the bananas too.
I’ve lived her for 16 years and never gave it much thought until my friend Mark M told me about a picnic he attended in Sacramento while he was with the Air Force. He grew up around here mostly so it was a logical dish to bring. I recall he said the other attendees expressed skepticism over his decision but the bowl was empty by the end of the gathering.
And so, the colors and picture of SCOTS’ drummer Dave Hartman enjoying a batch Somara made, will be what I am adorning Picayune with for November. Maybe I will bug my wife to make some too. She has a cake coming up and that usually means additional eggs we can’t let go to waste.
After today, all those temporary Halloween superstores close up and (to borrow an old Johnny Carson joke) will appear next year as H&R Blocks. I’ve killed some time in them this Fall while waiting to pick up my nephew or in yesterday’s case, helping Somara’s quest for a particular wig.
These pre-packaged, licensed getups are pretty amusing…in an awful way. I guess they serve a purpose, namely for those without a lot of spare time and/or imagination. I should talk, I hardly bother anymore. How could I top Patsy Stone in 1995? There was a costume which demonstrated the merits of creative shopping, calling in favors and finding the right audience.
Below, I couldn’t resist poking fun at the two Olive Oyl options offered at Party City. If you’ve seen the Robert Duval movie starring Robin Williams and Shelly Duval, you’d be quite grateful the filmmakers stuck with the latter option.
Maybe if Olive ate her spinach she would look this good.
The hours upon hours of Popeye cartoons I watched as a child (from the Thirties through the Seventies) could never convince me that Olive Oyl was attractive. What the pugnacious sailor saw in her was beyond us kids. When we got to high school, we figured Popeye must’ve been smoking spinach in his pipe. If I were single and a woman approached me in this, I think I would need to squint with one eye just stop from laughing. Now the one below isn’t as horrifying.
With this being the counter to sexy, shouldn't it be called Virgin Olive Oyl?
They forget to mention the Fran Drescher/Cyndi Lauper voice lessons as an accessory with either costume.
I fell short not from the lack of material but from a lack of trying. As always, life got in the way, especially this damned head cold I am recuperating from. Getting ill around Halloween is my body’s way of letting me know, “Fall has arrived in Central Texas!”
You may have briefly seen my playbook too when I let the draft/list article get published on the others I had scheduled under the headline of Famous WOPs. Smooth on my part. However, much like the N-word for Black Americans or the F-/G-word for Homosexuals, we Italians have taken ownership of WOP. It seems really silly too because it’s an acronym for Without Pass/Papers. Back when the mass migration of Italians happened (around the early 20th Century), the US starting taking a harder line on immigration for the usual reasons: fear, ignorance, paranoia, racism, anti-Catholicism and America’s biggest problem, the winner-loser attitude, meaning that in order for one person to have a nice lifestyle, some others have to be in the crapper. Numerous Italians hopped on the boat figuring it would work out since it did for the waves of Irish, Polish, Germans, Scots, Welsh and English who came before. Whoops! Turns out those people and their descendants were the runs beating the drums to keep the Italians away (sadly, I think I used to be friends with one such bigot). I suppose they were partially successful, about half did return to Italy much like the Norwegians and Swedes. Anyway, most couldn’t speak English, probably didn’t have a sponsor/relative to help and the derogatory term stuck as you hear it in movies.
I have a pretty good list for next year in 2012. I promise to do this again due to the positive reaction I received from a couple people.
I’ll close with my preferred joke about Italians…
Why are so many Italians named Tony? Since most didn’t speak English, they wrote “To NY” on their foreheads to make sure they got put on the boats to New York.
Definitely one of the better costume duos I’ve seen this year; a father and son I spotted at HEB. The man was amazed at how quickly I guessed. Actually, my mind was racing because my mouth almost blurted out Mr. Greenjeans from Captain Kangaroo.
Home-made costumes are always the best! Plus I’m sick of zombies and pirates, with one exception if I get a picture of the little Anne Bonny.
