November 2005 Archives

The forecasts were not looking so good for this morning's run. The actual weather didn't disappoint. It was supposed to be an easy run; a nice 5K to help support the Technology Education Foundation. Instead it turned into a frigid stomp on cold, hard asphalt. It was 12°F when I left and the wind gusts reaching 40 miles per hour. Rather than have a time as a goal, the new goal was refined to finish as fast as comfortably possible. Then find the nearest cup of hot chocolate.

I donned the most warm stuff I could comfortably run in, and still froze waiting for the start. Twenty-five minutes later, I was done and within thirty seconds, had a cup of hot chocolate in my hand. (The water bottle I grabbed had ice in it.) Final results: 25:02 (8:04 pace), 6th in AG (now 30-34), and 105th overall. I think that's enough racing outside until next spring.

As a kid, I had the typical white-hot blonde hair. We all did. Though I never really thought I was a "blonde," in the way the jokes describe, the last twelve hours have made me think that some of the blonde roots are still there.

For example. I put a load of laudry in the machine and started it. That's all. Nothing else. It took me five minutes to realize that I didn't put detergent in.

Then, I woke up, ready to go swimming. But, my alarm hadn't gone off so I figured I had a few minutes and stayed in bed, paying no attention that it was brighter that it should be for 6 AM. When the alarm did go off, one hour later than it was supposed to, I missed out on my opportunity to swim.

And finally, I keep my keys and sunglasses in the same basket for easy placement and retrieval. Leaving for work I grabbed my keys and left, leaving the sunglasses behind on the overcast day. Just outside the door, I fumbled through all my pockets looking for my keys I know I just grabbed from the basket. After a bit, I went back in, took of my sunglasses and grabbed my keys, locked the door behind me and left for work.

Is it Friday yet?

Scott Adam (of Dilbert) just released his book, God's Debris, free for download in PDF. Looks like a good read, even though it can't be classified:

Frankly, this is the hardest book in the world to market. When it first came out in hardcover, booksellers couldn't decide if it was fiction or nonfiction. Was it philosophy or religion? It's a religion/science book written by a cartoonist, using hypnosis techniques in the writing. It's a thought experiment. It's unlike anything you've ever read. How do you sell something that can't be explained?

Now I have to figure out how to print out 5"x7" sheets side-by-side on a printer.

As you can see, there's been some changes on the front page here. Moved some stuff around, added some colors, added some pictures, and took out a couple of things. Including:

• The pictures in the upper right corner are from my flickr stream. They change with every reload of this page.
• The quick links moved to the top of the page. This allows for more space and gives them some more attention.
• The navigation moved from the bottom to the top, where it should be.
• The footer expanded with links to RSS & Atom feeds to this site and the quick links. (Learn more about RSS)

The archive pages will be updated as well, since they're a couple of updates behind and look awful. In the mean time, if anything looks funky, leave a comment. I'd appreciate the feedback.

Update: (11/18/2005) I've updated the individual archives (click on the date below each post), but seemed to have busted the footer in the process. It's too late to fix now, so I'll leave it for later.

Proud of myself for actually getting out of bed on time, I got ready and climbed back in with all my clothes on until the alarm went off one last time. I struggled to get the car door open from the frozen rain, even needing two hands to get the trunk open to access the ice scraper. Damn, it's cold.

Once inside the friendly chlorinated confines of the Nat, the swimming felt good. Long, strong strokes were actually producing surprisingly efficient strokes. A quick set of harder 50s (two lengths) sparked the body into motion. The 400 that followed was a pleasantly fast 4:50 (1:12.5 pace). I need to pick that up if I'm to beat my 5:48 at the Alumni meet, though.

Is there any better show on TV right now than "The Office"? I laugh and squirm at all the uncomfortable and downright hilarious antics that the Dunder Mifflin crew get themselves into.

If you saw last week's episode of Michael blundering his way into a branch-office saving deal, you might recall at the end how Jim was reminiscing his "date" with Pam. Jim reviewed how it had 1) Food, 2) Movie (the screenplay), and 3) dancing/swaying.

Anyways, I checking out the show's website and found Dwight's blog, along with B.J. Novak's articles at TV Guide's Insider. In the first post, he talks about the writing and location shoot for the Dundees episode. It was in a Chili's restaurant with real Chili's waitresses from around the country playing themselves. Apparently, one had a bit of a crush on John (Jim), and eventually "left" him a note:

Perhaps you'd join me for a night of romance?
A dinner, a movie... maybe a dance?

Sounds eerily familiar, no? Well, as B.J. explains, it was just another crew member and Steve (Michael) playing a joke. But it's interesting to see how the writers get their inspiration and how things get written into the show.

An excellent report in this morning's paper about the Mayor and his struggles of late. One quote was the most disturbing:

"The challenge won't come from people who think I'm ineffective, but from people who think I'm too effective at things they disagree with."

The Mayor sees the potential political challenges as a compliment. His ego is getting in the way. By admitting that he's effective at getting his way, he's losing the support of those he needs the most.

Responding to comments that he looks down at those that don't see an issue his way, the Mayor said:

"...If it's an issue I care enough about, I've got a well-developed point of view on it. I believe in my point of view. I'm scratching my head and thinking, 'How can they disagree with that beautiful argument?' (But) I try not to stew over it."

Now that's a Mayor everyone can get behind, right? I mean, doesn't everyone want a mayor that thinks your opinion doesn't count, but takes it as a compliment, making his idea all that much better?

I've given myself two days to ponder Madison's annual Halloween bash over the weekend. I seem to support all the views except the Mayor's:

"What does it cost us, literally, as a city?" (He estimated that the weekend will cost Madison $350,000.) "Neither does it take into account the tremendous drain on his time, Police Chief Noble Wray's time and that of their assistants. The cost is one thing. The other thing, For what? What does all this money go for? It goes for a huge public drunk and I'm really concerned about the impact on young people."

The mayor wants to shut down the entire street, businesses and all for next year's Halloween. Businesses claim their best business over this weekend. The Mayor would, in effect, be canceling Christmas for these business owners. This is after the City enacted a stricter ventilation ordinance, prohibited weekend drink specials, and finally outlawed smoking in public buildings. I would have to believe that the Tavern League's collective heads would blow up.

The Capitol Times today summed up the collective thoughts of everyone: Chill Out Mr. Mayor. It basically says that for any other event, the cost to the City is worth the sold-out hotels, crowded streets, and 100,000 people from all over the world spreading the good word about Madison.

I'm thinking about printing that out and sending that to his office, just to make sure he gets the message. I would add the fact that a controlled party with gates, a private security company and a entrance fee would solve most of the Mayor's problems.

$350,000 or not, something should be done about the horse shit. I would not miss the putrid smell of the horse shit that covered the street under the lights. The mass stomped through the piles, dragging across the entire street, preventing any step hitting clean pavement. I purposely ran down State Street the next morning to see the aftermath. Kids were dazed, clutching their overnight and sleeping bags as they found breakfast and rides home. The street itself was still covered in a layer of horse shit. All the cracks were filled with it, and there was a faint hue of greenish-brown that glistened in the sun. It's great to know that will all wash into the lakes with the next rainfall. So, thanks for that, Mr. Mayor.