Egg thief!!!

As you can see, the criminal punishment for stealing eggs in Malta is quite severe. The accused must bow down in an egg coloured robe and apologize to the person she stole the egg from. This form of public humiliation works quite well here on this small island where everyone knows almost everyone else. People will watch carefully their breakfast around this one.

Once more into the breach!!

Live finds me once again on another crappy flight, winging my way towards someplace (in this case Oakland) on a night flight from Kansas.

I do wonder about the people near and around me. What brought them on this flight or to this location?

Sydney Harbour Dragon Boat Races

Ahhh.. I wish I could have joined.. (and given that almost anyone can join up, I could have.. but well.. this cramp.. yeah.. the cramp.. and the pain in the leg... ohh. and the wine I had last night. Umm. yeah.. I wish I could have joined.. but alas.. it was not ment to be.

Greetings from Sydney

Welcome to Sydney.

This boys and girls is why I do love travel. Ahhh the joys of work, travel, adventure, sipping a wonderful glass of wine while fighting the day's battles. The only thing more perfect if the misses were here.

Next Time... Definately Next Time

Australian Navy Ship

Yes folks, the HMS Endevor still proudly serves the Australian Navy. Nuclear powered she is not, but still dangerious regardless. I think even with my meager engineering skills, I can help improve the lot here.

The Sydney Bridge Walk '08 Part 2

For you people who doubt me.. see.. I'm the one waving second person from the far left.

The Hotel in Sydney

This is why you do NOT let the Bean Counters at work choose the hotel accomodations.
Upside: Nice view.
Downside: Drafty, A little damp, and the ride to and from is not a simple deal. Thank Goodness for Water Taxies.

Sydney Bridge Walk '08 Part 1

If you look carefully, I'm the third guy on the left. Go on.... Squint if you have to..

It was a terriffic if somewhat frightening climb.. but well worth the money.. (still 150 AUD is not a cheap ticket. Next time, I'll just get the postcard).

A note to the next person: Beer helps, and the more beer you have, the easier the climb is on the nerves. (for medicinal purposes ONLY)

My pretty wife.. (revised)

She does make me smile. This one is with the Puppy

Mr. An-An.

a new entry from world of mobile tech

heheh.. the world will never be the same.

Moving? Why god.. why?

How many of you have moved in the last 10 years?

In the last 5?

In the last year?

In the last 6 months?

This little bit is more about some of the pains that moving inflicts upon a person. (and begs the question, why do we do it?). Some possible reasons for the move would be work (new and existing), love (you crazy fool you), cost of living (yeah, those veggie snacks are getting expensive) and some just for a change of scenery. (its why I travel, besides the paycheck)

So lets get to it.

I'll skip the issues of where.. that's your problem. I won't bore you with mine. If you know me, then you know where.. if you don't, please send 5 USD to Sam Spade. Your first hurdle will be the choice of mover.

You pick from the super deluxe, do everything mover. They will want your first and second born, plus their usual fee of approx. 2 million USD. The upside is that your belongings will get the full spa treatment. They will be lovingly and gently transported to your new city/location with the care they deserve. The movers will lovely box your items with paper, wrap, blankets, the blood of virgins, and other items "guaranteed" to prevent harm to your antique cherry wood desk and your computer. They will be spritz with the scent of choice and will be cushioned against all manner of damage, curses, and evil spirits. Or so the brochure says. The reality is, they are boxed and flung on-board the moving van with all the care and respect a southwest airline baggage handler who knows he's fired tomorrow will give your suitcase. And that scent is not lavender and is illegal in 48 states. If all the pieces arrive to city at the same time you do, consider yourself lucky. (the screws are on the next truck, so no worries.. *smile*).

Your second choice in this tail of woe would be your mid tier mover. These are the ones that claim to move everything carefully, but the crew that arrives at your house looks remarkably similar to the extras in a Rob Zombie movie, and your not really sure if you should let them in, or call a priest (tis why I keep some holy water on hand.. if it burns, well, at least you know before they take your stuff) They are usually not too bad, not too expensive, and not quick. But as you watch them pack, you realize your items are not just being packed, but extras like floor sweepings, and rodents are being added for "cushion". (trust me, 30 mice do not make for an acceptable cushion for that charming 1 of a kind vase you picked up in Hong Kong). And don't forget.. you need to WAIT for these guys. The delivery date given is somewhere between tomorrow and December 31st 2040. Care to make a wager on where you fit in on that schedule? I'll wait while you think... Hint: Think soon. I need a new hot tub anyway.

And lastly, we come to the bottom of the barrel guys. The ones that have been under new management for the last 40 years. The ones that seem to be known by 200 names and using the same phone number (ironically, 1 digit off from a phone sex line, but that is another story). These are the ones that really scare you..they yell from the street "just drop the box, Dave will catch it" (only.... Dave does not seem to be anywhere near the "landing zone" or even in the neighborhood for that matter). That faint "help me" echoing from your boxes should be a clue. If you have books before you start, you will have pulp when they arrive. If you have glass before, you will have chips at the end, if you have computer gear before, you will have a self-assembly kit when it is delivered. During one of my moves, this group managed to break EVERY single item I had (including several Craftsman tools (sadly the warranty does NOT cover acts of Movers) EXCEPT for one small glass cup. (now that people, takes talent.. $15,000 worth of items destroyed and a .99 cent glass cup manages to survive). I highly recommend insurance for these guys.

And this segways nicely into the other group in this tale of horror. Moving insurance. These guys make Microsoft marketers seem like saints.

Let's experiment... trust me.. *evil laugh* Hold out your wallet, take out the credit card with the highest limit (or use a charge card, it will be easier). Remove whatever cash you may have on your person. Place these items into a paper bag. You can put a smiley face on it to make yourself feel better. Now, go into the kitchen and take a chop stick and jab your finger until it bleeds.. Let approx. 1 pint of blood fall into the bag. (why a chopstick I hear you ask, it hurts more to get the blood silly..) Finally, walk outside and find a machete and return to the paper bag. Proceed to hack your hair off and let these "clippings" fall into the bag (for my follically challenged readers, call your local best friend.. (he/she won't be your friend for long, so might as well give them a parting gift). now that you have this melange of items in this rather disgusting paper bag, take it to the park. (any park you like, but preferably one with muggers, rapists, and lawyers.. If none are around, yell out "My sexy girlfriend/boyfriend has lost their wallet near the hot-dog stand" (trust me, you will be surrounded by more of the above than you can handle). Walk 5 paces north east of this group of upstanding citizens and proceed to dig with all your might to a depth of approx. 10 feet using only your hands. If there is concrete, keep moving north east until you hit dirt. (why your hands? see the chopstick reference above... now don't make me pull this entry over young man). Once you have reached the specified depth, drop your bag in the hole, and cover with dirt. Now return home and wait.. patience... There.. do you feel it?.. the feeling that what you have just done made no sense what so ever, and now you are poorer, faint from the loss of blood and in pain, and looking used in a very bad way. That my friends is what moving insurance is.

But consider the alternative... *evil grin*

So my friend, buck up.. its only moving. Feel good knowing that you are giving employment to others and take solace in that at the end of this move, you will proceed to sell/give away/throw away because of the above the items you have hauled some 3000 miles away. Doesn't that feel wonderful?

I need a glass of sherry.

And now, a word from one of our sponsors, PADAP - (Youngish) Professionals Against Drunken Art Purchases

The time has come my fellow humans, we much make a stand against this most serious of global issues. (right behind ending wars and famine, and eliminating those pesky American Idol people)

I am sure you are quite familar with the senario.

You stop in to a wine bar, or your local watering hole. And of course, some local artist has their works on display.

As the evening (and alcohol) progresses, that peiece that you initially glanced at with a little interest becomes more attractive and you start to consider where to place it in your home. (next to the dining room, or perhaps in the den, where is not important, but the fact is, you have decided on a location to place it). Quickly you assess the damage. "Its only $900.00, and its supporting the local artistic scene" you rationalize. The hint of a sale quickly brings the artist and perhaps a glass or two of your favourite poison into your increasingly bured vision and you chat about work.

The artist, seeing you waver, quickly expresses the pain and sacrifies they have made to produce the work "I didn't eat for 45 days just to paint that piece" (you notice that it hasn't seem to have have made any significant impact in their rather portly 270lb frame) or "I practically lost a finger to Tony Saprano becuase I was so involved in making that painting I didn't pay off my loan shark" (Ummm.. that name seems to ring a bell.. but from where?)

And then the (used car) salesman comes out: "Well, because I like you, and you seem so interested in this work, what if I knock off saaayyyy.... $200.00. Just for you" The artist says to you. As your eyes become blurry due to the amount of alcohol you have injested, that painting that was originally $900 is now $700.00. "Well, its a lovely peice, and its at a discount" you say to yourself.

Where a more level (and sober) mind might have haggled more or logically reasoned: No.. that is at least 1 plane ticket to my favourite destination (ok, that is what mine.. err. I mean someone I spoke to.. said)

You on the other hand, swayed by your set of 20/20 beer goggles, and the "beauty" of the art work decide.. "What the heck, its mine!". You clasp hands with the artist in agreement, and quick as an assains blade, a pen is presented to you to sign the agreement, and you swear you smell a hint of sulfer and you see a horn protruding from their head.. but you shake it off as exhaustion and inebrieation. You jot your X on the document, making the typical drunken promises of love and appreciation, and you swagger out of the venue, feeling proud of your purchase tucked under your arm, and as you reach home, you rest it against the bed and collapse. Ahhh.. the gentle and painful bliss of an alcohol induced sleep. Yes, you know it well. (and shamefully so)

But, there is always the morning after. (I am sure many of you have similar experiences but with agreements of flesh rather than paint and canvas).

You awake to stare at your "wonderful" work of art. You look over.. feeling that inital twinge of fear and nausia. "Oh god, what did I do...". If you are a religious person, you quickly pray that the sight you are staring at is just a dream.. a bad one.. (especially as you glance at the receipt hanging from the work like an accusing finger). If you are not religious, you momentarily become so just to curse the sky and every diety that your sleep deprived and alcohol sloshed mind can bring to bear "Buddah, Zues, Jupiter, Yahwa, Bill Gates.... How could you let me do this? Damn windows.. Damn you Gates."

But alas, tis to no avail... the booty is yours. The artist is singing happily at the purchase, your checkbook (and/or credit card) is creeking under the purchase (so much for that flight to Hong Kong), and you, my friend, have a peice of work that, try as you might, you can't seem to find an appropriate location to display it:

• The Kitchen: No, you can't cook with that thing in there... though on the plus side, you might loose weight from your reluctantance of entering the kitchen.

• The Living room: No.. it will scare the guests and you will have to explain it to everyone. And you are just not up to the talk of AA and psychological testing. (though if this is your 2nd or 3rd such painting purchased under such circumstances, you may want too look into that AA thing)
  

• The Bathroom: Well, it will certainly wake you up, but once again, you will have to explain it to family and friends. (of course, it may reduce the amount of impromptu visits by family members)

• The Office: Yeah... and HR (and Maintanance) might want to have a word with you. And you still have to pay off the bloody bill.
  

• The Basement: That's right.. tick off the insects.. never wise. they know where you live and reasoning with them is out of the question (And if you are thinking this, you may want to take note about my comment above regarding psychological testing and discussions of AA)

Ladies and Gentlemen, such actions must end. And we, at PADAP can help you.

This is not a call to end art purchases.. Oh no.. not at all. But we must be in a sober and sane state of mind. Our purchases should be with reason, and not under the influense of products from California, Mexico, Spain, Ten. Billy's Basement (or any location where you favourite (or acceptable) alcohol may come from.

So join my plea...Yes, VISA will curse your name. American Express will shake their fist at you in disgust. Mastercard will stare at you with contempt. Discover Card? (well, who takes them anyway?) But won't you feel better knowing that you did right by your finances? That you won't have to explain your purchase with the preface of..."Well.. its a funny story and one that I don't quite remember." when your guests ask "What in the world were you thinking?"

Yes my fellow lush's. Live, drink and be Merry.. but keep your art purchases confined to the sober moments in your life.

Jedi or Sith?

Well, it’s been a while hasn't it?
Gallivanting about the globe, harassing people, pets, and computers (and sometimes all three at the same time) ahhh... Seattle, what a sweet as..errr well anyway). But anyway, this is an old one that I have shelved, it’s not strong, but I'll drop it out here for viewing anyway.

As watch the Star Wars movies for the umpteenth time, I'm thinking, perhaps George Lucas in his stories has a social point that is applicable. The parallels seem a little too similar between what is happening now and the stories (specifically the prequels). So Star Wars fans, rejoice. I am on your side... ahh... but which side.

You don't follow? Ahh, then allow me to explain for a sec.

In the prequel stories, we have the emperor (excuse me, "senator") Palpatine, who is seemingly an innocent that is encouraged through a chain of events to assume the role of chancellor, then Supreme Chancellor, then as we know later, emperor.

Notions of the force aside, it’s been done by the careful manipulation of various groups and a lot of FUD ("Fear, Uncertainty, and Doubt" for you less acronym savvy people) being passed to the masses that just want to feel "secure" and "safe". So what does he do? He creates a war and works very hard to frighten the masses. These same masses through fear, allow him to "consolidate" his power so he has the authority to "protect" the people while lessening the bonds of bureaucracy under the "promise" that the powers granted will be relinquished once the crisis has abated. Sound familiar to anyone? (2006 Military Commissions Act, the P.A.T.R.O.I.T Act, the FISA Courts, and many many others)

Now let’s look at this a little more closely.

1. A war was brought to the people of naboo who then decided to appoint a more "forceful/effective" member to the senate. What we find out later was the war was instigated by Darth Sideous (i.e.: palpatine) who gave them a reason to create a separatist movement (i.e.: the way the republic works was wrong). But again, on the surface, everything looked plausible and reasonable. Bad guys over there committing "terrorist" acts, we don't know, so we have to lock it all down... "for the sake of the children" (By the way: When you hear these words from anyone, assume they are an alien and run fast and far from them as quickly as your legs/car/airplane/magic carpet can take you. The aliens are wise now; they don't say "Take me to your leader" anymore. These days that can be anyone).

2. This same "effective/forceful" senate member then quickly appoints other members to his cabinet to take over key roles in the senate. These same members all have connections to the "bad guys" (in this case the Trade Federation, etc...).

3. The war gets fresh blood to intensify by the creation of a clone army. The creation of this army helps to show the people that action is being taken, it puts their faith in their choice (i.e.: palpatine), but also serves to lengthen the war and drive people to the breaking point of wanting it to end at any cost.

4. As the war intensifies (which we know was through palpatine's influence and his cronies) people fear for their lives. So many relinquish their freedom and grant palpatine more power who then institutes "death camps" and mass society spying calling anyone with a dissenting viewpoint a separatist. The few that are above the rabble get enveloped into a senate that will eventually get dismantled. The ones that cheer the most for the new changes have the greatest the gain. (Producing the eventual Death Star, Genetic modifications for Storm Troopers, etc... (e.g.: Military and related suppliers).

5. During this time, their charter or constitution is re-written to grant further powers and to reduce or eliminate potential opposition. (e.g.: I just changed the law, so you see, I am acting within the confines of the law). This greatly lessens (and in some cases eliminates the senate in all but name).

6. Finally things reach a head where people, have been duped into believing that he is their only salvation, and so they turn over all power, converting the republic into an empire (singular rule vs. democratic). Sith influence true... but a smooth talker with a very persuasive argument and a scared population are pretty much what is needed...

So, now that we have established the timeline of events... lets take a little look at our situation:

1. A war was brought to the people and so they decided to elect a "forceful and effective leader". We don't know for sure if the elected official instigated said war of beliefs or merely encouraged it. What we do know is that Bush has been running quite a campaigning on "Peace and Security" (quite similar to what his father ran on I might add, but that is a different topic).

2. This same "effective/forceful" leader then quickly appoints other members to his cabinet to take over key roles in the government. These same members all have connections in some fashion to the "bad guys". (i.e.: Halliburton (Donald Rumsfeld) , "Big Oil" (Bush himself and Condoleezza Rice), other groups which provided arms and funding to the "bad guys" through various means. Sounds a little too close to a conflict of interest to me, but hey, what do I know).

3. The war gets fresh blood to intensify the battle by service recall notices to various members of armed forces and massive military spending. The recall of these people helps to show the people that action is being taken, it puts their faith in their choice, but also serves to lengthen the war and drive people to the breaking point of wanting it to end at any cost.

4. As the war intensifies (which we know part of which is due to the actions of the current leader) people fear for their lives. so they quickly relinquish much of their freedom under the guise of "preserving freedom" and grant the leader more power who then institutes "mass public spying, wiretapping, a "concentration camp", and calling anyone with a dissenting viewpoint unpatriotic and quietly threatening them which detainment (note: I said detainment, not incarceration. Detainment can be indefinite (we can hold you as long as we need to for your "protection" and for "evidence"), vs. incarceration falls under the "charge me or let me go" rule).

5. During this time, the constitution is being re-written to grant further powers and to reduce or eliminate potential opposition. (e.g.: If the law is changed to allow me to do this, then I am acting in a completely legal fashion). This greatly lessens (and in some cases eliminates the judicial and legislative branches in all but name)

And now boys and girls, we are at step six. If things continue to follow the path of these movies, it’s not going to look good as I think things got a LOT worse before they got better.

So I ask, do you think the US is under the control of a Sith Lord?

The Magic that is me

I've been accused of being somewhat obsessed with my computer. Nothing could be further from the truth. (after all, its through this wonderful device that such words of prose echo). *Will you PLEASE stop the snickering?*

So in the interest of admitting that perhaps I do have a small (microscopic, ittybitty) problem, I am posting a little cartoon from the wonderful people over at Userfriendly.

I have to say, after reading this.. I am a little ashamed.
Will I stop? Of course not.. don't be ridiculous.
But I am a little ashamed.
I'm much better now... (I have a PDA that does the same thing)

The Flinstones, Meet the Flintstones, a modern Stone Age Family....

*The lights dim and the crowd goes into their pre-performance hush, a few small coughs come from the back row as the standard banter gives way to the hushed tones preceeding the performance.

A well dressed figure walks from the side of the stage to the podium with a stack of papers in his hand. The papers look slightly dishevelled and unkempt which is in contrast to the surroundings and the person holding them.

When he reaches the podium, he sets the papers down and takes a sip of water. He looks at the crowd as they grow silent. The crowd looks expectantly as he adjusts his glasses and coughs softly to clear his throat. The speech is mostly outline. The bulk comes from his mind so concentration is important. He over looks the crowd once more picking out the friendly faces he can key in to gauge the audience, picks up the little remote control for his prepared slides and begins to speak*

Hey y'all.

Ok.. So I can't pull of a southern accent (nor would I try).

This little entry is about my family. I've never written specifically of them and I am sure after this, I will have to change my name (any suggestions?... any CLEAN suggestions?) So let us begin shall we?

The main people in my family. My Parents (mother and father), my Sister and yours truly. There are are numerous aunts, uncles, cousins, second cousins, nephews, nieces, great uncles, great aunts, not-so-great uncles and aunts. (The list is long, extensive, and not the subject for this entry. If you want to know more, please send $10.00 USD to me. ($55.00 if you want addresses too))

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My parents:
They are an interesting study in contrasts. Both are mirrors and composites for each other.

• Where my father is strong my mother is weak.
• Where my mother is direct and blunt (sometimes to a fault) my father is diplomatic and sometimes evasive (again sometimes to a fault).
• Where my father is furious my mother is calm (shocking, I know)
• Where my mother is the sheath (comforting, enveloping, protecting), my father is the sword (direct, powerful, serene)
• Where my father is knowledgeable and knowing, my mother is intuitive and cunning.
• Where my mother is savvy and wise, my father is playful.
• Where my father has a dry wit, my mother is more conventional in her humour.
• Where my mother is fearful and trepidatious my father is fearless and bold.
• Where my father enjoys actual travel, my mother enjoys the concept of travel.
  

To say they work well together and go together is a bit like saying "Rice and Beans are good together" or "Rice and Pickles makes a dandy dish" (or any other combo you can think of). Your immediate impression once you know them is "Well, DUH!!!" They seem to get the job done. My formidable and formative dynamic Duo (Batman and Robin has nothing on these two) .

Between these two pillars, I've learned much about the world; both its dark places and its light. They are my staunchest allies, my harshest critics, my most insightful mentors, and my most cherished friends. They have been both my anchor and my motor. Not to say it was all sunshine and roses (well, in my case, cheap computer parts and free airfare, but you get the idea), but for all the bad times (some I am reluctant to admit were my own doing, HAPPY? I admit it ok? Yes, I put the water in the oil tank... The rest of it was not me. Is it my fault that everyone that can corroborate the stories about me are either missing or dead?) There were far more memorable times.

I value them greatly and look to them as my models for what I can be, what my family life can be, and what I can accomplish with the right foundation.

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My sister
She and I are reflections of our parents and are composites and mirrors of each other as well. There are times when if I said "black" I'll give you 10:1 odds on any amount of money you care to name that she will say "white" (unfortunately I never won this bet, no one would take me up on it... we're siblings not telepathic)

I have the utmost respect for her and what she has accomplished and will yet accomplish in her life and in some ways I am a little envious. I think she would say the same about me in someway. (A little sibling rivalry... it makes life fun).

When younger, she was the shy one and I was the outgoing one (yes it’s true; I was the extrovert as a child). As we grew up, she became the extrovert (a la mother) and I became the introvert (a la my father). Time has settled us with a halfway point for us. (She being a cautious extrovert and I being a introvert with extrovert like tendencies)

She is very adaptable and capable woman, gifted in linguistics (meaning the subtleties of language) and seems to understand the core of people intuitively. (VERY envious of this, I could take over the world if I had that power, but she has little interest for world domination... the pay is great, but the stress... Oy'vey.)

She is most similar to my mother in personality, temperament (thankfully she also has a healthy dose of my father's calm), and perspective. Both share similar abilities and strengths (which as you might expect, has pros and cons)You know that thing you hate about yourself.... what happens when you deal with someone who has the exact same trait?... and its your mother/daughter?... think on it, I'll come back)

I don't often write about her because she is my sister and my writing cuts a little too quick to the bone at times (and the fact that she has an uncanny ability to track people down means my life wouldn't be worth a fiat dollar if I said the wrong thing . I think she is in the wrong business, she needs to be a counter-intelligence spy or a bounty hunter), but she keeps me grounded to reality and helps me to gain perspective and understanding (and quite a large amount of patience... I repeat, we are SIBLINGS. The fact that we have both survived without killing each other ("that which does not kill you makes you stronger"), or destroying a house (though there was that one time... err.. nevermind) is a testimony to my our abilities, my parents, and lots and lots of Valium and the fine people at Sears and Pergaments *Sam, you did a great job on that roof and the windows in 79, 83, 87, and 89. Mary, we hardly knew you, but those bars on the doors... EXCELLENT job and almost impervious to acetylene torches. Mr. Fitzgerald, sorry about the noise and about those rocks. Mark, the shockgards were top notch amigo, and Judge Hernandez, Thanks for understanding that siblings will be siblings* What?.. This never happened to you?

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Me:
Well, what can I say that has not already been said? To know me is to know my family. (Scared aren't you?) We are jokesters, kidders, we can be your best ally, your fiercest supporter, or your most dangerous enemy (Let "poison Pen Sally" (i.e.: my sister) have a whack at them, they will be so distraught that only strong will stay; the weak will crawl away and seek someplace dark to live out their days). As my sister leans more towards my mother in abilities, temperament, and personality, I lean more towards my father. Similar reading materials, similar hobbies, same dark and somewhat quirky sense of humour, similar interests. He has been my father, my tutor, my mentor, and my blood brother. Mother always did claim I beat her poor stomach as an infant (in the womb) but that my father's hand would calm me down. And to some extent this is true. I am most alike to our father as my sister is most alike to our mother.

My family I would not trade for all the tea in India. Now the computer parts in Taiwan? umm.. no.. no.. Really?.. all of it? Umm.. no.. no.

Where else can you be praised, chastised, beaten and kissed, loved, and hated, engage in a battle of witty remarks and sly comebacks and also be reminded "if you ever...." than one's own family. They are secret club I am glad to be part of. (I’ll sell you the secret handshake for those parts in Taiwan) They are the comedy club that I have a backstage pass to.

For all the good and bad, they are my best friends and my comfort.
No? What about just half of the parts in Taiwan? come on, I won't tell.
Oh damn
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The Fools.. How Dare they..

Once again, the US government, in all its finite wisdom, and limited sense of perspective, has decided to make air travel just a little more difficult and unsafe for us all.

Its times like this that I do wonder how we even function. Prohibiting Toothpaste?.. Hair Gel, on carry on luggage? I mean come on, its KILLING the business traveler. Mom and Dad on their vacation with noisy Johnny and brat Jane can avoid to stuff everything in cargo (Dad and perhaps even Mom at times) I'm sure wishes he could stuff the kids there too, giving them a little private time.

Ummm...... I thought all of those little gadgets that sniff and check for trace amounts of drugs and explosive compounds, that check for electronics that don't look quite right (read: X-Ray machines and now Gamma Ray machines for cargo). All of the metal detectors and pat downs (hey, I made some new friends when traveling this way.. Sadly all men. *No George, I will NOT call you back. You patted me down, that entitles you to one drink that's all*) was supposed to... say it with me: PROTECT the passengers.

So if that is the case, why can't I,

• as a heavy business traveler (frequency not weight thank you very much Megan);
• as a person who does not want to wait the additional HOUR (max time was 2 hours on a US domestic flight. Don't get me started on international flights to/from the US. Ironically international domestic flights always get my luggage within 35 minutes or less... Perhaps the domino's guys got a new gig) to get my luggage at the endpoint of my flight;
• as a person who does not trust the screeners and handlers from stealing items from my checked in luggage (its happened to me three times and all the TSA says is: "well, it can't be helped, we don't control everything");
• as a person who is pulled for "random" screening almost every time; (yeah, I only WISH my luck was that good. I would be in Vegas at the Craps Table instead of writing this cra..err. I mean putting to prose this wonderful blog);
• as a person who deals with this on a weekly (and sometimes daily) basis.
• as a person who NEEDS to get on that plane to keep himself from going bonkers. (its on my HMO plan, so shut up alright?)

continue to use the existing "security" setup and definitions?

Because they want to appear busy. I seem to recall a line in Mel Brook's History of the World (funny movie) where something tragic happened to the town of Rockridge. His words were "Gentlemen, we have to do something. We have to protect our phony baloney jobs"

A joke, but I think its pretty much dead on right now with the TSA.

My own personal vote, (and don't think it won't come to pass.. just wait):

1. Treat us all like criminals (we already are, we just have not been finger printed, ID's taken and given an orange (or the colour of your local prison) jumpsuit. Ummm.. on second thought, just the jumpsuit. Everything else has already been done.


2. Anesthetize everyone when boarding, stack the bodies like the morgue. (the airlines will LOVE that. More bodies, less complaints. No feeding, or peeing, or anything. Just look at the little LEDs: Green is good. Red is Bad. If no one is awake, no one can pull any triggers, or set any explosives. And it means the Red Eye Flight is no different than any other flight. One upside to this, no screaming baby that we all want to eject. (Invite him in to play with the blue water) The downside, you can't chatup that cute girl who is setting next to you in my dreams only. (every flight I have ever been on, she's walking 10 rows ahead or behind me. and I sit next to the hyper chatty Mr. Gab. Or the Somber Mr. Gloom, or the "husky" Mr. Flab. They all reek of chilly or garlic or Gin (or in some strange cases all three) and I'm sure their mother's were hampsters and their father's smelled of elderberries.


3. More leg room.
   


4. No More Crappy movies. (I'm downright insulted by some of the movies that were playing. To be in their presence while playing made me feel dirty and cheap. Damn you Delta. Damn you to hell)


5. No more bad airline food. (trust me, your doctors will thank you later for this)


6. Makes the argument of who sits where a little less important. (Most annoying when you have a prime location (first exit row, aisle seat, next to that smashingly cute lady I mentioned before, and you are just about to whip out your best Noel Coward witty banter) and some tribe of 30 rolls down the aisle and wants to sit together. Your seating choices are now:
   
1. Next to the toilet (you might meet that lady again, but I think your topics of conversation are limited and just a bit hurried)
   
2. Next to that fat guy that reeks of the items I mentioned above.
   

You now have to be either a nice guy and send Delta the dry cleaning bill to rid your clothes of the smell. (on a 2 hour flight, its not bad, on a 14 hour flight, you want to send our little rotund and fragrant friend to the shower) Or be a complete bastard and tell them to shove off, its mine. In which case, you will have little Johnny or Jane (or even dad in one case) kick your chair constantly by "accident" to show how "upset" they are. Either way, you are paying an expensive bill.

So just wait my friends. Someone on high in the TSA or even their lapdog, the FAA will make this suggestion, put the right spin on it, and then you and I my fellow travelers are frequent flyer-sicles.

Its a wonder I leave the house huh?

The State of the Union

This pretty much goes with my long standing opinion that the US is a country of OVER correction.

"One little fly got in.. wait, there must be millions of them, so get the biggest, nastiest, flyswatter you can and flatten all of them.. So what if a few million innocients get killed, at least we got that one fly and it acts as a deterrant to the other million that "MAY" be waiting".

Logical thought never works in the presence of a military mind which says that ANYONE who is not part of our system (eg: the military) is a potential threat and therefore must be watched and controlled. We are all variables sadly, and to many, a variable is something that must be reduced or eliminated before targeting the real problem. It works on paper, but somewhere along the line, its forgotten that these are actually people not just a notion in an equation.

The police are merely an extension of that thought. As much as I hate to quote movies, there does seem to be one eliment of truth in one: The Usual Suspects. The character says something on the order of: "To the police the truth is never that complicated, if you BELIEVE the guy did it, you will find out he really did" (nothing about the truth, just if you believe). Yes yes, I know, the eternal seekers of truth and justice... Bullshit. Police are humans, and as many have already pointed out, most are jaded from dealing with the sum who should be put away (perminately in some cases). All the more reason to police the police. Oh yes, there are some honest ones who actually use intelligent thought and try to arrive at the truth instead of a quota. (I actually have some as my friends and associates) But that number is small by comparison and they are usually overruled by their colleagues. (Birds of a feather and all that).

A lot of the public just rolls over and says "Oh yeah, just like that" because they want to feel safe, a notion I can sympathize with. And to them, any action is good. They are the ones saying "Well, if you are innocient..." or "Its not as bad as all that..."

Power, once granted regardless of the reasons for giving it, tends to require actions to accquire more power (or at the VERY LEAST maintain). There is a reason the consistution gives limited powers to various different groups and require them to reach some level of consesus. Its because it takes into the account the desires of the average human (and yes ladies, I said humans, women are just as guilty as men in this regard, lack of a opportunity to execute does not mean lack of intent or ability.) Its designed under the notion that they can't ALL be nuts. Well guess what, I think we've reached that breaking point. With the lower elected ones looking for the job rather than justice. With the higher level ones doing the same, but with big business and military backing them. With all of them reacting to the unwashed masses just simply wanting something, anything done. Which means right now, they are all nuts. Virtually anyone that raises a dissenting arguement is branded a herotic and a sympathizer (ummm... sounds a little familar, don't you think? Nono.. don't all raise your hands at once). Which leaves the "leaders" mearly reacting, and the rest joining this conga line of stupidity because they love their jobs more than what is (History majors, here is your chance, if you get it right you get a cookie) "right, fair, and just".

Family, Culture, and Life

The central players in this little play:

Me, a person of some years (not that old you git) Engineer (IT) who's interests and hand(s) have been in quite a number of pots (and not all of them in IT). If you know me, then you know the rest, if you don't know me:

Nanana booboo!!!

Her, a *erased by her censorship squad* year old Real Estate (Finance) Professional. The rest you will discover from this entry. What you don't know from this little entry is your problem. (*sticking my tongue out*)

Things are moving along quite nicely I must say... some minor little hiccups here and there, but overall quite well. She's a a wonderful person with strengths and flaws that sadly we both share, I must admit. Its the downside of being very similar, which is ironic considering how different we both are and were come from.

For example, the differences:

• Myself, I am Costa Rican with a little bit of everything tossed in (go far enough up the tree and the only group that my family doesn't have in our little melting pot is Chinese or Japanese. (Or Taiwanese for that matter) ironic given my particular bent, but that is a blog for another time). She on the otherhand is 100% Taiwanese. Though again, I suspect if you go far enough up the tree some other fruit may fall. But again, another blog, another time, with permission.

• I've made it a goal and my life's work (both professionally and personally) to explore and learn as much as I can about this little planet and all its cultural differences. VS. She is most decidedly a home body (I am as well, to a large degree, but my home ranges all over the planet *grin*). Not to say she has no desire to travel (simply not true as my first love, a Ms. Delta and her sisters (Continental, Singapore Air, JAL, Asiana, ANA, BMI, and Northwest) would disown me), but where my second thought when waking is "Where can/do I go today?" (My first thought is about her, and that is none of your business) her's is more domestic and local. But she is willing, so I don't have to give up my mistresses. YEAH!!! (was a man ever so blessed?)
  

• My (extended: Cousins, aunts, uncles, etc...) family is more loosenit. We are close, but not that close. A person or twenty may drop off the map (sometimes its a good thing), and its no harm, no foul. Her family (extended, and I do mean extended) is much more cohesive, with constant checks and reports. Some of this, I am sure, is due to her being an unmarried female living alone, but the main thing is the family is just very close. (Personally, I vote for the middle ground: very close to the family, but with some distance so you can control the frequency, duration, and timing of the checks)

• Naturally our approaches to conflict are different, more from a gender separation than a cultural one. (ahhh, the eternal struggle between man and woman)
  

• We have different interests, expected given that she is herself and I am myself. (Its an easy cheap one, but I'll add it here to round things out)
  

Now for the similarities:

• Both of us have a strong sense of family (and our desires and interests are identical)
• Both of us have an identical deep sense of honour and respect
• Both of us have similar financial aspirations, though we differ a little on where we would spend money: With me, its electronics, with her its clothes and shoes. (Anyone shocked yet?)
• Both of us have similar educational goals and our respetive career paths are pretty compatible. She a Master's in Mathematics, me a Doctorate of Computer Science. She handles the real estate and how to get the home, I can handle what to do with the home once we get it. (see, it works!)
  
• Both of us have similar home styles (we are Condo/Townhome people, not "Yard" people. Lazy sods we are)
  
• Both of us value, cherish, and demand our privacy (ironically this is a slight source of conflict we are also trying to relax this more between us)
• Both of us have similar asthetic styles, though she is more utilitarian than me. I've been hanging around too many artists. (mother always did say if you lay with dogs, you will get fleas)
  
• Both of us want to see the world. I've seen a bigger part of it so far and still have a LOT more to go, but now I want to see it with someone else. Someone to share my "world" with as well as teach. (I should have changed professions, I knew it)
  
• Our sense of humour is nearly identical and we both suffer a similar problem of accepting the joke as literal some times. (which can be bad, as we both tell such darkly humorous lines regarding the "other man or the other woman" (I suspect this feeds into our own insecurities))
  
• Both of us believe in being polite and civil for its own sake, though she has a much shorter fuse than me.
  
• Our cuisine preferences are very similar (though I will eat raw fish, she will not. Hey, I said SIMILAR, not identical)
  
• Even our families are very similar: Strong matriarchal structure with a firm patriarch at the head. (Think queen, and her right hand hatchet man). Both of our familes enjoy humour, laughter, and the same "round table" like banter at the dinner table.
• Our family sizes are similar but uneven. (Mine is immense on one side and small on the other, vs. her's is large all over.
• And for a cheap one: We are both April babies; 3 years and 3 days apart (and I think even 3 hours apart, but I am not sure)
  
• And there are many many other similarities, I won't go into them all or this poor blog entry will be much much longer, and I am sure I won't live to see the next day once she reads it.
  

And now that we have established the players in our little drama:

What strikes me as amusing is just how culturally similar we are. I am less surprised by this than her (mostly because I've seen enough in this world to realize that the only think that separates me from other person is a name and a location, otherwise, we are all pretty much the same). Because of her surprise, I have to ask the question: WHY?

Now granted, I am not the worlds best person to go down this route, given my hobbies, interests, and strong desire to experience and learn about all cultures all around this world (and if possible, a few beyond. That's right NASA and SETI, get your arse's in gear.. ok? Flying car my rosy rear end. I was jipped.. Jipped I say. 2005.. bleah!) And granted, she's been more isolated than I have in terms of experiencing the world and various cultures. Family restrictions.

Much of what goes on in the world is repeated numerous times by all. As chere papa quite often quips:

"Nothing exists in a vacuum"

or to put it another by a quote from the same man (not sure its his, but I'll attribute it to him anyway, if its not, don't correct me, I pack an OED and a rifle. A man's quotes are not to be abused):

"Great minds think alike"

All of this is to say, despite a trick of geography which has given us different starts, it does not negate the notion that ultimately we are both humans (stop laughing), and humans, for good or bad, are the same. Similar desires, similar interests, similar aspirations, etc... ad nasuisum. In fact, I can prove to you with math (not fair, as I can prove pretty much anything mathematically. Now whether its socially sound is another story) that pretty much all of human endeavors and drives stem from probably about 5 - 7 core drivers. (and not windows you freak).
If you think hard enough, I am sure you can name a few without furling your brow. How does a happy safe family sound? What about some recognition? Sex anyone? (not offering, just saying) Anyone want a child? (I got two real cheap from the flight I was on, whiny little bas.. err.. I mean such angels)

These are some basic drives. For what purpose you want those things, how you go about getting them, and in what percentages you want them or to what extent they play in your life are unique to you. (I don't want to know... really.. I have my own problems)

Some want to bang everything and everyone in sight. (I highly recommend never drinking with these people, you may experience more than you want. But hey, its your life, all I ask is photos for later. A man has to make money some how). For some, their family is their goal, but they view money as the path to achieve such success. (Trust me, it never works. At best, little Johnny or Jane is not in jail... at worst, you are dog food. Anyone remember the menendez brothers? 'nuff said)

So we've established to some degree that despite locale, age, gender, race, creed, or religion, we are all pretty the same animals drinking from the same trough. This natrually (huh?) loops back to the question of our similarities. If everything in human history (damn monkey's) has been done before, merely the tools used and the approach differ, why should she be surprised that excepting some minor differences we are pretty much the same and that once I accept those differences I ("L" word) her?

I suppose it comes down to numbers. (yumm... Number O's) And, what wine do you have by the bottle?)

I once mentioned to a friend of mine (you know who you are) that the odds of me meeting someone of mutual interest, someone of intelligence, hell, lets wrap it all up into "someone of quality" (see the similarities above, my fingers hurt) is pretty low to nill (so how did I get her?.. would you believe voodoo? what about bribery? I kidnapped her? Oh come on...) here is how I break it down:

On any given day, I meet about 150 people (I'm rounding here so shut up Alexi)

Out of that 150 people, lets assume about half of that number is male (sorry folks, me down swing that way. They make good friends, colleagues, even drinking buddies and travel guys, but for my bedmate, I prefer someone soft with three PHYSICAL parts (stop giggling) I don't possess.

So that leaves us with about 75 people. Now out of that number, lets assume I have even a passing interest in about half of them. (this is based on limited factors: age, apparent intelligence, decorum, appearance, etc...)

So that drops it to 37.5 people. (isn't math fun?) From that number we have to deal with their interest in me. I am a great guy (its on my business card.. right there, in small print. Well, use the magnifying glass, but trust me its there) but some people just don't get my particular brand of me'ness and the reasons are varied and far ranging:

• From the stupid: Wrong colour (Their words, not mine. Sucks don't it?)
• To the mundane: "I don't like people in IT" (I will refrain from commenting as this is a family blog... mostly)
• To the moronic: "I didn't know people of that colour were intelligent" (this is an actual statement a lady said to me once when I was in phoenix. The world can be a lousy place at times)
• To the confusing "You are almost what I want, but not quite" (again an actual statement, this time by a lady in Miami while we were in the airport)
• To the direct "No, sorry, not interested" (I laughed at this because I met her not more than 2 seconds and my total interaction time with her was saying that most hated and vile of words "Hello". Some people are just so jaded that any attempts to engage them are met with WOMD).

So given all of that, lets chop that number to a third shall we? Which leaves 12.5 possible people.

Now we enter into the other factors.

Timing = -4 (I miss her on the train, she misses me at the wine club, etc... Plus I travel a great deal, which makes it even more difficult.

Circumstance = -2 (A great person, but one or both of us had a hard day and so we are a little more snappish than what we normally would be, or some other extenuating factor. Or its at work and she's a vendor/client/bosses daughter (hey, its happened. How? The less said the better))

Ability = -2 (I am not a Romeo (Destined), I'm not a Cassanova (Suave), I am not a lothario (Persistant and charming), I am not even a Garfield (hey, they cat is lazy, but he talks to everyone.. trust me, he's getting a little kitty on the side of his Pasta). In almost every case I have "chatted up" a lady, there has been some reason to engage her in conversation. I am too old world English (read: prude) to just speak to a lady like that. I love a good conversation, I enjoy debate, but there must be an obvious and stated reason to do so. Anything less would be improper.

Situation = -2 (You meet someone, she is great. Stimulating conversation, great sense of humour, a body that would make a priest kick little johnny, a smile that could melt a glacier and have it begging to come back. The kind of woman that men have been known to propose to on the spot. BUT, she's a co-worker (Rule #22: NEVER date a co-worker, don't even think in that direction, in fact, you have no "female" (or "male" for my female readers) co-workers, just waldos). See my client/bosses daughter line above. (Old Line Quoted by The Shadow #89901: Never dip your pen in the company ink)

Luck = -1 (Don't ignore luck! Many a Battle, Job, Yen (or dollar for you other people), or fair heart have been won/saved through pure dumb luck. Don't believe me? Example: You break through your fear and trepidation and strike up a conversation with someone that meets all of the above qualities (and she has to, I'm picky).. Its a great conversation with the lady. You have incredible chemistry, she's got a body, yadda yadda yadda... and "Oh, and here is Bob, my husband, Bob say hello to the shadow" And well, you can imagine how the rest went. ("...tail between the legs" about sums it up) Bob that bum got there first. Especially when you find out that Bob was a former college mate of yours and moved into the building across the street and while you were gallivanting about the globe looking for the next great adventure, bob, was out there wooing Ms. Right. *breathing to calm myself* But I digress, that little example my friends is dumb luck. Don't discount it.

So we are left with 1 possible person per day.. 1 out of our 150. Not good odds I would say. And with that 1 person, its down to lots of other factors I won't even mention or this entry will get longer than it already is).

So, how did I meet this little wonder that I plan on making an "honest woman"? Remember my small speech about luck? (if you do, you get a cookie, send me an email and we discuss terms and flavours) It cuts both ways. So yes, I had to to some 5500+ miles away.. shorten to only 2200 because I'm a nice guy (see, right there) to find her but I found her. Difficult to find, a slippery little thing, but worth hanging on to.

And despite all the hoopla, all the potential differences (paper does not match the reality), all the dumb luck (again with the luck thing), all the reasons I can think of that we both should run
like the wind, hide our heads in the sand singing loudly to make it all go away. Dispite all of that, we are so similar it is frightening (remember that luck thing? I told you not to discount it) and I think we want the best for each other.

I can't wait to see what happens next.
It should be fun.

Now, if you will excuse me, Daddy's gotta go kick some keister.
Ciao Ciao

Another Blog to view..

For More fun reading and serious enjoyment. *Hey, you in the back.. shutup*.
Check out Demi's Blog: http://blog.myspace.com/demi316

Its also featured on my Links List.

Seeking Knowledge...

Perhaps someone can explain more to me the seeminly perpetual state of confusion I live in when dealing with women?.

I understand them... to a degree
I get them... to a degree
I even believe they are correct... to a degree

But notice the similarity of all those statements.. to a degree, and in most cases that degree is somewhere between 0-25. (closer to the o than the 25).

Anyway.. if anyone, even some members of the other camp... (hey, knowledge is knowledge, I don't question its source, only its intent) care to chime in.. I am all ears.