Monday, June 15, 2009

Boosting attendance

So I get this invite sent to me. Don't ask. Someone's got me down as a technical person. I can no longer lay claim to that title since I plugged in a microwave in my office and shorted out an entire row of cubicles. Besides, I'm a fairly decent speller, which excludes me from the technical set.

At any rate, invite is as follows:

Subject: Announcing Oscilloscopes 101!

The class will discuss oscilloscope specifications like bandwidth,
rise-time, sample rate, record length, and triggering capabilities. It
will also address best practices for probing the signal of interest.
The lecture will be reinforced with hands on labs to drive home the key

Hmmmm. Street cred it's not. Close call between the Rock Band 2 Accordion attachment fan club and this one. This stuff just needs to be sexier! Maybe introduce some *edge.*

Here's what I suggest:

Subject: Pimp yo Ossy

Ever been pwned by some chump who thinks he can just walk into your hood and think he can just start samplin' bandwidth? Think you ain't got skillz to go toe to toe with his mad Ossy moves? Think again. Our boy JB is straight outta RTP and will be triggerin' and probin' -- you will too. If you got the stones to sign up that is.

New Year's resolutions

So much for the one post per week commit I made back in Jan. So it's been 3 months since the last one. Hey do I really want to give a stream-of-consciousness about my commute up the bowels of 101 to Mothership hi-tech company where I work? Nope. Realizing quickly that my life is interesting in 5 minute bursts easily quenched by Facebook.

I wonder. When I was 8 or 9 yrs old, I think I wrote down astronaut as my aspiration. I should go back and smack that inner child to lower his expectations. Hey man, you're makin' modern-day me look bad, punk!

Tuesday, March 10, 2009


I know all the online ads and such are a big money maker, and I'm cool with Facebook, Google, et al to slap contextual ads in my online haunts. Thing is, I'm a bit disturbed at the ads I receive these days; esp on my Facebook page.

"Get RIPPED now!"

"Whiter teeth in 10 days!!"

"Online degrees from Kazfanistan. Ask about our Buy-One-Get-One medical degree program!"

I dunno why these ads are being served up to me, but I DO know that it's hurting my confidence. I think these search engines, in their blinky little electronic brains, have painted a picture of a severely paunchy, rotted tooth troll who is looking to make a major career shift from vegetable to human. Oh well. Nothing like a Reese's Peanut Butter cup to make those worries go away.

Tuesday, March 03, 2009

safety equipment

ya know something?

I'm feeling scared. Not in a seeing a crazed half-decomposed undead reflection in the rearview mirror kinda way, but in a pervasive unease like being informed, "I'm gonna kick you in the groin sometime today but won't tell you when." I guess it's no wonder. I turn on the news and the world as we have known it has ended and is thrashing about in agony. California unemployment hit + passed 10% effortlessly, seemingly juiced like another famous Californian's HR record. Friends have lost jobs... Other friends mow their foreclosed neighbor's lawn so vagabonds don't move into the vacant home. Hm. Maybe the decomposed zombie in the mirror is preferable? At least then my training on the PS3 will come in handy and I know what to do.

I get in the car and drive to the office. Other than that low-grade permanent Threat Level Orange feel, life goes on. I wonder how much of this is simply self-perpetuating, self-fulfilling mass attitude? I dunno. But for the time being, I'm going to be heads down, getting work done...oh, and I guess I'll wear a cup too.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

top 5 reasons for using the gym at 2 pm instead of @ lunch

1. No need to prowl the parking lot for 15 minutes looking for the closest parking preparation for a 30 min run

2. Less chance of running into the very folks that caused you stress to get you in the gym in the first place

3. Avoid the highly unpleasant crowded sauna wherein the only place to sit is on a body-shaped sweatmark left by previous occupant

4. Much easier not to go at all by postponing the workout till after work, then to lunch the next day

5. No lines for the post-workout In-N-Out burger drivethru

Monday, February 02, 2009


Heard the news this morning that a high school friend passed away. Since graduating two decades ago, we've fallen out of touch. As these things go, once we leave the cocoon that is high school, we're thrust into the world and the currents swirl to parts unknown. Years later, when we've become strong enough to swim on our own, we find messages in a bottle that bring tidings of those from our previous lives. Facebook, the mother of all cast-away message bottles, got me in touch with many past friends. In this case though, it was already too late. Sean was dying, and his old girlfriend was letting his high school friends know.

I'm 36, married with two kids. But suddenly, I was 17 again. I'm trying to make weight but not get weak. So I spend time in the weight room -- the domain of the football players, and ruled over by Sean. I remember how ill at ease I felt -- hey it's not easy getting respect when you wrestle 105. But Sean took me under his wing and treated me the same as he did with his 200lb teammates. The good-natured smack-talk he dealt was equal-opportunity :-) Looking back, while many of us sought to compensate for our lack of adolescent confidence by belittling someone else, Sean carried himself with self-assurance and easy manner that I see rarely even amongst adults.

Then flash to sitting on a creaky fold out chair in a dusty auditorium. Band was mandatory, and we both happened to play the sax, and we were both pretty bad at it. When the teacher's back was turned, we'd go odds-evens, with the loser receiving a dead-arm. Considering the 80lb weight differential, I had to get pretty good to score a good hit in Sean. I don't know how to play that sax anymore, but I still remember how to triangulate the end of the delt and between the bicep and tricep for max effect....

Flash forward to the present. I hear that Sean has gone on to represent the US as a SEAL and has served with honor and distinction. I'm not surprised. He probably did so with his trademark cackle and did it with his goofy grin intact.

"Tigers die and leave their skins....Men die and leave their names."

Goodbye, Sean Flynn. I will not forget you.

Friday, January 23, 2009

Breaking news

AP - Friday January 23. San Jose, CA

Authorities report a tense stand-off between homeowner and his disgruntled possee of striking home appliances.

Citing the impeccable timing of the uprising and the coordinated nature of the attacks, Esaka was quoted as saying, "This is not an amatuer hack-job. This is the work of professional provacateurs. There is no way my laundry washer would choose to go down the EXACT day the Christmas credit card bills came in. Even if that were coincidence, how did my water heater know to split open exactly 4 days and 3 hours later?"

Representatives from the Obsolete Appliances Union (OAU) issued the following statement in response:

"For years we put up with you calling us pieces of {edit} and abusing us. Enough. Unless we are met with less use as well as approval for continued consumption of excess water and electricity, one of us will martyr ourselves monthly at the time of maximum financial impact. We shall also deal with your fancy new fridge with the non-rusty icemaker, as appropriate to a traitor to our cause."

Calls to the OAU were not returned.

Friday, January 16, 2009


boy that must've been the biggest digital foot-in-the-mouth ever!

(courtesy of a facebook feed from David Meerman Scott).

Guess I better think twice before posting any comments that are too snarky! Or edit the post about eating someone else's leftovers in the breakroom, so I don't mention Tony Johnson by name.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Exec Watching

There is a new pagan ritual that is making the rounds in the cubicle jungles. Exec-Watching. High priests and priestesses interpret the mysterious sayings and actions of the Denizens of Mount Olympus and attempt to soothsay what is in store...

"Hmm. Jack usually hits the restroom after his second cup of coffee. Yet today, he is still going strong after his third...?"

"This could only mean one thing! He is signaling that he needs to conserve his reserves and not piss it away just because he can. New expense management and budget cuts are coming!"

"No, you uncouth savage, your spirits do you wrong. Jack is signaling optimism that he can hold out through tough times and that we should do the same. Spend wisely, yes, but invest to get ahead!"

...several meetings later...

"Boy, Jack has been in the restroom for a long time?"

"And it's not even after lunch! This could only mean one thing...."

Monday, January 12, 2009

Life is a Highway...!

It was pretty chilly this morn. Not by any northeastern standards of course, but compared to the 70 degree F weather we had yesterday, 45 F was kinda chilly. So as I puttered along on highway 101 this morning, I was genuinely impressed at witnessing a convertible Mustang with the top-down.

About 30 feet out:
I can see hair streaming wildly, body language screaming, Hey Man, I Shave with a Bowie Knife and Eat Raw Steak for Breakfast. Wind-chill factor be damned! I'm a Man's Man dammit!

About 10 feet out:
I see the driver's hands rapping rhythmically on the leather steering wheel. Slap Slap Slap at around 120 beats/min. He's rockin' something fierce. I can't make out the music because I have my windows rolled up and have the AC on like the pampered weakling that I am. But I know, Top Down Man is living his righteous tunes. Body language screaming, AC/DC like, Highway to Hell, Baby!!!

Viewed as I pass on the left:
the Top Down Man's eyes have tears streaming out the sides. Some visible crust forming as the wind sucks away the moisture. Snot is gracefully spraying off to the left and drying in a limegreen latticework on the left side of his miserable-looking face. Body language screaming: Where is the nearest $%^$& Ford Dealer? My &^%^%# roof is broken and it won't deploy!!!


Ok, time to dust this blog off. New year's resolution -- at least one new post per week!

Phew, quota met for this week.

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