Or as my wife put it, 'they're going to nickel and dime us to death'.
It was day two and time to head for Cleveland Ohio. We'd already budgeted something like seven hours to drive there, assuming side trips. We hadn't budgeted the extra hour just to get back to the supposed starting point! An interesting drive nonetheless. I quite enjoyed the feeling of driving through the Chicago morning peak[^] and actually coping with it. Even the roadworks were fine. Indeed, they made it easier. If navigating a strange city slower traffic is better; it gives you time to read the signs ahead and decide which lane you need to be in.
Given that we knew we needed to be on I80/I90 East it was just follow the signs and incur the occasional wrath of a local who we inadvertantly cut off. Somewhere in Southern Chicago we saw a sign pointing to a 'skyway' which would eventually bring us to the I80. Little did we know this was the start of an interminable series of tollways.
Yeah, each individual tollway might only be a couple of bucks but there are so many of them through Indiana and into Ohio!
Along the way I was edified to drive an elevated section of the highway, just outside of Gary Indiana. On either side we could see the sewage treatment tanks! Strangely enough, that wasn't the only sewage treatment plant the interstate passes through; I wish I could remember where the second one was.
I'm not sure I should count Indiana as a state I've visited. To be sure we stopped more than once for pee breaks and Starbucks (the two might be related) but if the only parts of Indiana we saw were the travel plazas and the highway itself I have my doubts. But I'll let it count for now. Andrew, he of the little travel, is adamant it counts!
It was almost a disappointment to drive around the edge of Toledo. I was half expecting to see Max Klinger lounging around! Ok, so I'm joking but even when I was a kid I'd heard of Toledo Ohio; all the scales at the butchers, the green grocers and the fish shops seemed to be Toledo branded!
Late that afternoon we arrived in Cleveland just in time to cope with peak hour. Fortunately they don't seem to have much of a peak hour; that or we were heading in toward the city centre while everyone else was heading out.
We parked the car in the hotel car park and headed out to wander the streets in the city centre. I quite enjoyed it. If there's one thing I miss in Phoenix it's a real downtown. We don't have one! Given that I'm an unrepentant city boy you can see what a loss that is.
On the other hand, it was quite the pleasure to be wandering the streets during a downpour! Sonya and Andrew both acted like it was the end of the world and spent what seemed like hours complaining, at the chophouse we ended up in, at such minor inconviences as trickles of water running down their backs! At least it was warm water! I'd like to see them cope with a Melbourne downpour in the middle of winter!
An unmemorable dinner consumed we wandered back the hotel, only to be caught in the rain again. Frantic scurrying for shelter whilst I, made of sterner stuff, :-) walked along at my comfortable pace.
Monday, July 31, 2006
Leek and Salmon pie
is the most excellent dinner I've just eaten at Fionn McCools Irish pub, corner of The Esplanade and Church Streets, Toronto.
Indeed, notwithstanding my passion for ribs US style, I reckon that, save for the fish and chips I had in Australia last year, this is the best meal I've had in the past four or so years. It was that good!
Of course, the fact that I was seated in just the right position to ogle the young (female) waiting staff as they bustled about might have contributed to the enjoyment; but no, I won't admit that! :-)
From all of the foregoing you'd be correct in inferring that we've reached Toronto. It's been an exhausting few days. I knew there was a reason why, when I'm on holiday, I prefer to go where fancy takes me at the time. This planning a holiday out to the minutest detail quite six months before starting isn't for me.
It doesn't help when Expedia tell us that our booking is made and paid for and when we turn up at the hotel fresh from the airport the hotel is both full and has no record of a reservation. The paid for part was certainly true; anyone will take your money willingly! So Sonya got on the phone (I use my accent as a convenient excuse to not have to deal with that stuff) and after some initial claims that the booking had been made Expedia eventually agreed to find us somewhere else in the Chicago area.
I reckon the call must have been routed to somewhere a *long* way from Chicago; they assured us the substitute hotel was close by. If you're sitting in a call centre in India I reckon Waukegan *is* close by but when you're driving it it's a powerful long drive! But let's be charitable; we made a turn South from O'Hare imagining that near Chicago meant thataway. Of course, half an hour later and a call to the hotel it turned out that we should have turned North, away from Chicago. An hour and a half later and we found the hotel; right out in the middle of woop woop.
Internet access? You're kidding of course. I reckon we found the only hotel chain in North America that charges twice what Motel 8 does yet doesn't have internet access. You understand that I'm talking the substitute hotel. Our original booking does have it; fat lot of good that did us.
Indeed, notwithstanding my passion for ribs US style, I reckon that, save for the fish and chips I had in Australia last year, this is the best meal I've had in the past four or so years. It was that good!
Of course, the fact that I was seated in just the right position to ogle the young (female) waiting staff as they bustled about might have contributed to the enjoyment; but no, I won't admit that! :-)
From all of the foregoing you'd be correct in inferring that we've reached Toronto. It's been an exhausting few days. I knew there was a reason why, when I'm on holiday, I prefer to go where fancy takes me at the time. This planning a holiday out to the minutest detail quite six months before starting isn't for me.
It doesn't help when Expedia tell us that our booking is made and paid for and when we turn up at the hotel fresh from the airport the hotel is both full and has no record of a reservation. The paid for part was certainly true; anyone will take your money willingly! So Sonya got on the phone (I use my accent as a convenient excuse to not have to deal with that stuff) and after some initial claims that the booking had been made Expedia eventually agreed to find us somewhere else in the Chicago area.
I reckon the call must have been routed to somewhere a *long* way from Chicago; they assured us the substitute hotel was close by. If you're sitting in a call centre in India I reckon Waukegan *is* close by but when you're driving it it's a powerful long drive! But let's be charitable; we made a turn South from O'Hare imagining that near Chicago meant thataway. Of course, half an hour later and a call to the hotel it turned out that we should have turned North, away from Chicago. An hour and a half later and we found the hotel; right out in the middle of woop woop.
Internet access? You're kidding of course. I reckon we found the only hotel chain in North America that charges twice what Motel 8 does yet doesn't have internet access. You understand that I'm talking the substitute hotel. Our original booking does have it; fat lot of good that did us.
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Oh, the naivety of (not so young) youth
And there I was thinking I'd have time on this trip to write my usual quota of drivel. Truth is that, a mere day and a half in, time is lacking. I'm hoping things might simmer down once we get to Niagara Falls (I'm currently in Cleveland). Sorry for being such a tease but Sonya the slave-driver :-) is rousting us to finish packing so we can race off to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
And we're off!
to Chicago and parts east of there tomorrow. Fortunately the flight is at a civilised hour; about noon. It'll be quite the novelty travelling for a holiday instead of for business.
I swear I thought the last three hours of the working day would never end! I'd reached the logical end of the current task and there was little incentive to jump into the next task; insufficient time to complete it today and who knows how priorities will have changed between now and August 7th when I return to the office?
Thus a couple of hours of faking it followed by another installment of the meeting from hell. Uh huh, Tuesday again!
Y'know, with any luck I might have something worth writing about soon. Meanwhile, 107 hours of recording space remains on the HTPC; I reckon it'll be up to the task of recording whilst I'm away. They're running about 8 Marx Brothers movies while I'm away. I'll be in pig heaven when I return!
I swear I thought the last three hours of the working day would never end! I'd reached the logical end of the current task and there was little incentive to jump into the next task; insufficient time to complete it today and who knows how priorities will have changed between now and August 7th when I return to the office?
Thus a couple of hours of faking it followed by another installment of the meeting from hell. Uh huh, Tuesday again!
Y'know, with any luck I might have something worth writing about soon. Meanwhile, 107 hours of recording space remains on the HTPC; I reckon it'll be up to the task of recording whilst I'm away. They're running about 8 Marx Brothers movies while I'm away. I'll be in pig heaven when I return!
Creeping Australianism
I'll admit it up front; I'm a bad influence at the office.
At first, a couple of years ago, they found my language 'interesting'. I think I'd have been the first person most of them had ever met who used such phrases as 'poor bastard' and 'happy as a dog with two dicks'. That last phrase still raises laughter but I maintain that I'm not ashamed of my working class origins and such phrases were common enough when and where I grew up.
I eschew the use of the well known four letter words. Anyone can say those but not everyone can describe a customer as a 'whinging bastard' and expect to get away with it :-)
Along the way other words used frequently enough in the rest of the English speaking world but quite unknown here in Phoenix creep in. The one that puzzled em the most is bloke[^]. I explained it once or twice a while ago and pretty much forgot about it.
Until today.
Today, after a smoke with Randy out the back door, Garry gestured at us as we scuttled back into the cool of the building. Neither Randy nor I knew which of us he was signalling so we opened the door to his office. Randy said, 'which bloke were you wanting to talk to?'. And then he realised what he'd said!
I imagine he had much the same feeling that I have when I come out with some phrase I'd never had used four years ago. 'Say what?' is the one that springs to mind as the most common. At least I haven't descended to the level of the imperative 'what!' in place of the, to me, much more polite, 'pardon?'.
The punchline, such as it is, is that Garry pointed at Randy and said 'that bloke'!
At first, a couple of years ago, they found my language 'interesting'. I think I'd have been the first person most of them had ever met who used such phrases as 'poor bastard' and 'happy as a dog with two dicks'. That last phrase still raises laughter but I maintain that I'm not ashamed of my working class origins and such phrases were common enough when and where I grew up.
I eschew the use of the well known four letter words. Anyone can say those but not everyone can describe a customer as a 'whinging bastard' and expect to get away with it :-)
Along the way other words used frequently enough in the rest of the English speaking world but quite unknown here in Phoenix creep in. The one that puzzled em the most is bloke[^]. I explained it once or twice a while ago and pretty much forgot about it.
Until today.
Today, after a smoke with Randy out the back door, Garry gestured at us as we scuttled back into the cool of the building. Neither Randy nor I knew which of us he was signalling so we opened the door to his office. Randy said, 'which bloke were you wanting to talk to?'. And then he realised what he'd said!
I imagine he had much the same feeling that I have when I come out with some phrase I'd never had used four years ago. 'Say what?' is the one that springs to mind as the most common. At least I haven't descended to the level of the imperative 'what!' in place of the, to me, much more polite, 'pardon?'.
The punchline, such as it is, is that Garry pointed at Randy and said 'that bloke'!
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Old movies
In addition to obsessing about getting the metadata tags right in my music collection much of my time recently has been spent watching late 1940's and early 1950's film noir. Like that'd be a surprise given recent postings. These movies are even older than I am (though only just!).
As much as I can enjoy a Humphrey Bogart or a James Cagney film I reckon the more obscure titles from those ten or twelve years are 'better'. Better in the sense that, for the most part, they're better written than the 'star' vehicles, better performances, better lighting. Without the distraction of the studio image builders it feels as though everyone involved was concentrating on making movies.
I particularly enjoy the movies made by RKO Radio Pictures. Titles such as The Narrow Margin[^] and The Setup[^]. I sometimes find myself wondering if my father had seen these movies. Odds are that he did; they'd have been supporting features throughout the 1950's.
As much as I can enjoy a Humphrey Bogart or a James Cagney film I reckon the more obscure titles from those ten or twelve years are 'better'. Better in the sense that, for the most part, they're better written than the 'star' vehicles, better performances, better lighting. Without the distraction of the studio image builders it feels as though everyone involved was concentrating on making movies.
I particularly enjoy the movies made by RKO Radio Pictures. Titles such as The Narrow Margin[^] and The Setup[^]. I sometimes find myself wondering if my father had seen these movies. Odds are that he did; they'd have been supporting features throughout the 1950's.
Monday, July 24, 2006
The blue gardenia
If you're not familiar with the world of classical music it's easy enough to imagine that much of the music used by Hollywood, particularly in days long gone by, is from that world. I certainly did up until about 1975. The fact that I'd been listening to classical music from about 1970 and still thought that merely indicates that I'm slow on the uptake and that I was still learning.
The problem is that a piece of music written as a stand alone composition rarely fits the action. Music has its own momentum as does film and trying to make the one fit the other only works if the one is tailored to the others rhythms.
Hence the existence of large multi CD libraries of 30 second or less 'stings'. When we were making our movie in 1990/1991 I was still vainly trying to think of ways to make the music I knew so well fit in the edit suite. An impossible task.
Thus it's a pleasure when someone manages to pull it off. Fritz Lang did in this[^] movie.
Considerably simplified, the story concerns a girl who, whilst drunk, fights off an unwanted advance by a bloke and thinks, the next day, that she killed him. Her last memory of the event is Nat King Cole singing a song 'The Blue Gardenia'.
We, the audience are treated to the sight of George Reeves (of TV Superman fame) the next morning listening, in the fatal apartment, to an entirely different record. Nothing less than the Liebestod from Tristan und Isolde[^]!
Things for the girl go from bad to worse and the police are sure they have their villain. Until the newspaper guy remembers that she said she heard Nat King Cole and yet they found Wagner on the turntable! Thus follows some wierd stuff including a glimpse of a face we saw in the first 3 minutes of the movie and have totally forgotten; snap of the fingers and it all wraps up and the girl is innocent.
It was a pleasure not only to hear something I know so well as part of the story; it was also a pleasure the way that the music became integrated into the general soundtrack toward the end. Hey, I'm easily pleased!
The problem is that a piece of music written as a stand alone composition rarely fits the action. Music has its own momentum as does film and trying to make the one fit the other only works if the one is tailored to the others rhythms.
Hence the existence of large multi CD libraries of 30 second or less 'stings'. When we were making our movie in 1990/1991 I was still vainly trying to think of ways to make the music I knew so well fit in the edit suite. An impossible task.
Thus it's a pleasure when someone manages to pull it off. Fritz Lang did in this[^] movie.
Considerably simplified, the story concerns a girl who, whilst drunk, fights off an unwanted advance by a bloke and thinks, the next day, that she killed him. Her last memory of the event is Nat King Cole singing a song 'The Blue Gardenia'.
We, the audience are treated to the sight of George Reeves (of TV Superman fame) the next morning listening, in the fatal apartment, to an entirely different record. Nothing less than the Liebestod from Tristan und Isolde[^]!
Things for the girl go from bad to worse and the police are sure they have their villain. Until the newspaper guy remembers that she said she heard Nat King Cole and yet they found Wagner on the turntable! Thus follows some wierd stuff including a glimpse of a face we saw in the first 3 minutes of the movie and have totally forgotten; snap of the fingers and it all wraps up and the girl is innocent.
It was a pleasure not only to hear something I know so well as part of the story; it was also a pleasure the way that the music became integrated into the general soundtrack toward the end. Hey, I'm easily pleased!
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Finally
we hit 101 at midnight! Still 101 at 12:30 AM but we'd dropped to 100 at 1:00 AM.
Now that we've hit the magic number the weather is welcome to cool down! :-)
Now that we've hit the magic number the weather is welcome to cool down! :-)
Renumbering
I've admitted before that sometimes I'm a trifle slow on the uptake. Strangely enough the latest manifestation of this phenomenon occurred in the same context; digital music[^].
The penny dropped the other day, when, having reached the end of CD1 of Iolanthe and been forced to switch to the second CD it suddenly occurred to me that whilst the limitations of the CD format required that a 2 hour work be split across two surfaces such a split was by no means set in concrete. 30 years ago the LP format split the same performance across four surfaces.
In the brave new world of WMA and MP3 and 60 gig music players such a surface split is unnecessary.
Hence an afternoon spent renumbering tracks, both in filename and in track number metadata. All done the hard way, by hand. Yeah, I could have written a quickie program to iterate over the filenames, parse out the track number (always at the start of the filename) and add an offset. With enough searching of open source I could probably have found an MP3/WMA tag library to do the same for the tags. But I decided to do it by hand.
A decision made without realising quite how many multi-CD sets I actually have! My library track count didn't drop by even 1 but the album count did; from (currently) 434 to 366. But it's done now, backed up to bigboy (my HTPC) and burned in ripped form to DVDs.
But boy does my RSI wish I hadn't done it!
The penny dropped the other day, when, having reached the end of CD1 of Iolanthe and been forced to switch to the second CD it suddenly occurred to me that whilst the limitations of the CD format required that a 2 hour work be split across two surfaces such a split was by no means set in concrete. 30 years ago the LP format split the same performance across four surfaces.
In the brave new world of WMA and MP3 and 60 gig music players such a surface split is unnecessary.
Hence an afternoon spent renumbering tracks, both in filename and in track number metadata. All done the hard way, by hand. Yeah, I could have written a quickie program to iterate over the filenames, parse out the track number (always at the start of the filename) and add an offset. With enough searching of open source I could probably have found an MP3/WMA tag library to do the same for the tags. But I decided to do it by hand.
A decision made without realising quite how many multi-CD sets I actually have! My library track count didn't drop by even 1 but the album count did; from (currently) 434 to 366. But it's done now, backed up to bigboy (my HTPC) and burned in ripped form to DVDs.
But boy does my RSI wish I hadn't done it!
Saturday, July 22, 2006
A tenth of a turn
too little. Or, short story long, as is my wont :-)
A couple of weeks ago it was time for an oil change so I took the car to the local car repair joint. We've had reasonably good work from them over the last couple of years.
So yesterday whilst driving to work suddenly the car sounded different. A quick scan of the dash and the oil warning light was on! So I pulled over (thank god I wasn't trying to do that quick 'two lanes to the left' where SR143 joins I-10 just before the US60 exit; that's one dangerous manoeuvre to be trying on a daily basis!). Quick check of the dipstick (no, not a glance in the mirror!) and she's as dry as a bone!
Three hours later the tow truck finally arrives! As he's hooking the safety ties to keep my car on the back of the truck he notices the oil drain plug ain't there. Well, that explains the sudden loss of oil!
So we take it back to the oil change joint and, after some ducking and weaving in a vain attempt to not take responsibility they finally agree that yes, they didn't tighten the drain plug and they'll pay for the tow and fix it. I should think so! I couldn't persuade them to give me some kind of warranty in case of engine damage but they did agree to give me the next oil change for free. Great! Now I'll be checking that damn oil drain plug for the next n thousand miles.
A couple of weeks ago it was time for an oil change so I took the car to the local car repair joint. We've had reasonably good work from them over the last couple of years.
So yesterday whilst driving to work suddenly the car sounded different. A quick scan of the dash and the oil warning light was on! So I pulled over (thank god I wasn't trying to do that quick 'two lanes to the left' where SR143 joins I-10 just before the US60 exit; that's one dangerous manoeuvre to be trying on a daily basis!). Quick check of the dipstick (no, not a glance in the mirror!) and she's as dry as a bone!
Three hours later the tow truck finally arrives! As he's hooking the safety ties to keep my car on the back of the truck he notices the oil drain plug ain't there. Well, that explains the sudden loss of oil!
So we take it back to the oil change joint and, after some ducking and weaving in a vain attempt to not take responsibility they finally agree that yes, they didn't tighten the drain plug and they'll pay for the tow and fix it. I should think so! I couldn't persuade them to give me some kind of warranty in case of engine damage but they did agree to give me the next oil change for free. Great! Now I'll be checking that damn oil drain plug for the next n thousand miles.
LaMont lives
as we discovered last night at yet another get together of the 'boys'.
Our little Phoenix area bloggers group is growing. We're now up to four of us. I had, of course, already met LaMont[^] but for quite some time there he wasn't coming out to play. My theory was that he didn't like Vern; strangely enough Vern's theory was that he didn't like me! What does Vern know?
Perhaps, having read my initial report linked above wherein I drew certain inferences relating to the happenstance of the pair of them ambling off to the dunny simultaneously, he had reason for not wanting last nights meetup to take place at the gay bar[^] we ended up in last week! I couldn't possibly speculate!
So we gathered at Gallaghers over on 7th Street. Neither Vern nor I had been there before and because Vern isn't above asking me for a ride too and fro, casting me, the drinker, in the role of designated driver, we arrived together. Looked to both of us exactly like it could have been a suburban dentists office!
Doubtless worrying about the aforementioned impugning of his sexuality LaMont did evince considerable interest at the moment the barmaid, wearing no bra and a flimsy low cut top, bent toward him. Evince considerable interest? I thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head! In all fairness, all four of us took an enthusiastic gander. I fear that my fellow bloggers are sadly out of touch though; the speculation was that she was 18; I reckon 25 if she's a day! Not that there's anything wrong with being 25; if I try hard enough I can remember back that far! :-)
I learned a new phrase. You'll remember that I learned to say 'Screw you buddy!' in place of the rather coarser expression I'd have used four years ago in Australia. I now know the extended version. 'Screw you and the horse you rode in on, buddy!'. I'm told that the buddy part is optional. I tried it out at the office today; worked a treat, if causing insane laughter is the gauge of success!
But I reckon I'm going to have to bankroll the next get together. For various reasons it's happened that I've paid very little cash at the last few and I fear the rumours will start about Rob being a cheeseparing bastard. Knowing full well the Australian traditions around the 'shouting of drinks' I can't possibly let this state of affairs continue.
Interesting note; I went looking for a link to illustrate the Australian traditions and found this[^]. Don't ya love the internet??
Our little Phoenix area bloggers group is growing. We're now up to four of us. I had, of course, already met LaMont[^] but for quite some time there he wasn't coming out to play. My theory was that he didn't like Vern; strangely enough Vern's theory was that he didn't like me! What does Vern know?
Perhaps, having read my initial report linked above wherein I drew certain inferences relating to the happenstance of the pair of them ambling off to the dunny simultaneously, he had reason for not wanting last nights meetup to take place at the gay bar[^] we ended up in last week! I couldn't possibly speculate!
So we gathered at Gallaghers over on 7th Street. Neither Vern nor I had been there before and because Vern isn't above asking me for a ride too and fro, casting me, the drinker, in the role of designated driver, we arrived together. Looked to both of us exactly like it could have been a suburban dentists office!
Doubtless worrying about the aforementioned impugning of his sexuality LaMont did evince considerable interest at the moment the barmaid, wearing no bra and a flimsy low cut top, bent toward him. Evince considerable interest? I thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head! In all fairness, all four of us took an enthusiastic gander. I fear that my fellow bloggers are sadly out of touch though; the speculation was that she was 18; I reckon 25 if she's a day! Not that there's anything wrong with being 25; if I try hard enough I can remember back that far! :-)
I learned a new phrase. You'll remember that I learned to say 'Screw you buddy!' in place of the rather coarser expression I'd have used four years ago in Australia. I now know the extended version. 'Screw you and the horse you rode in on, buddy!'. I'm told that the buddy part is optional. I tried it out at the office today; worked a treat, if causing insane laughter is the gauge of success!
But I reckon I'm going to have to bankroll the next get together. For various reasons it's happened that I've paid very little cash at the last few and I fear the rumours will start about Rob being a cheeseparing bastard. Knowing full well the Australian traditions around the 'shouting of drinks' I can't possibly let this state of affairs continue.
Interesting note; I went looking for a link to illustrate the Australian traditions and found this[^]. Don't ya love the internet??
Thursday, July 20, 2006
A long weight
Monday, January 12th 1970. My first day at full-time work.
A very callow youth I was to be sure. But not, perhaps, as callow as my new workmates might have imagined.
As the first-year apprentice on his first day at work I was fair game. I don't argue with that proposition; the following year I was as hard on my successor as they'd been on me. Dog eat dog and all that.
The first hour or so of that day was spent in the bosses office being lectured on the importance of work. In one ear and out the other of course; what else would one expect of a 15 year old?
Lecture over and toolbox, workbench and mentor assigned I was left to the foremans mercy. His first question to me was, 'how old are you boy?'. I admitted my extreme youth. Some quick arithmetic and he informed me that I had 49 and a half years left until retirement. I thanked him for the information whilst privately thinking him a bastard. That opinion hasn't changed even if I'm a mere 13 years away from that formerly oh so distant date! I mean, what the hell? What was he trying to say? That I have 49 and a half years of misery ahead?
He assigned me a very important task indeed; that of going to the local hardware shop and purchasing, on account, some striped paint, a left handed screwdriver and a long weight.
Uh uh. He didn't fool me! He got his long weight! I caught the train to Flinders Street and spent a couple of hours in a bookshop long since gone, ferreting through Science Fiction novels. Followed by lunch.
A very callow youth I was to be sure. But not, perhaps, as callow as my new workmates might have imagined.
As the first-year apprentice on his first day at work I was fair game. I don't argue with that proposition; the following year I was as hard on my successor as they'd been on me. Dog eat dog and all that.
The first hour or so of that day was spent in the bosses office being lectured on the importance of work. In one ear and out the other of course; what else would one expect of a 15 year old?
Lecture over and toolbox, workbench and mentor assigned I was left to the foremans mercy. His first question to me was, 'how old are you boy?'. I admitted my extreme youth. Some quick arithmetic and he informed me that I had 49 and a half years left until retirement. I thanked him for the information whilst privately thinking him a bastard. That opinion hasn't changed even if I'm a mere 13 years away from that formerly oh so distant date! I mean, what the hell? What was he trying to say? That I have 49 and a half years of misery ahead?
He assigned me a very important task indeed; that of going to the local hardware shop and purchasing, on account, some striped paint, a left handed screwdriver and a long weight.
Uh uh. He didn't fool me! He got his long weight! I caught the train to Flinders Street and spent a couple of hours in a bookshop long since gone, ferreting through Science Fiction novels. Followed by lunch.
Only in Phoenix
would the failure of air-conditioning in an apartment building rate a mention on radio news. Going by the fact that they were playing the news at 9 AM as I drove to work and they had the same report playing when I drove home we can draw one of two conclusions; either there's no other news or the failure of the air-conditioning was an important news story.
Yeah, I'm making light of it. The fact is that the heat here doesn't bother me much but as Steve Kaschimer[^] pointed out in response to this[^] post, I have the advantage of air-conditioning.
So far this year I haven't heard all that much on the radio about the deaths of homeless people; but I certainly remember hearing about the subject last year; something in the order of 50 died from heat exhaustion and, probably, thirst.
Now that I think about it; I can remember seeing precious few drinking fountains around...
Yeah, I'm making light of it. The fact is that the heat here doesn't bother me much but as Steve Kaschimer[^] pointed out in response to this[^] post, I have the advantage of air-conditioning.
So far this year I haven't heard all that much on the radio about the deaths of homeless people; but I certainly remember hearing about the subject last year; something in the order of 50 died from heat exhaustion and, probably, thirst.
Now that I think about it; I can remember seeing precious few drinking fountains around...
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
The blue in the green
The blue in the green,
may never be seen,
and it's power is not of this world.
For the mark of your ticket,
shall capture the wicked,
and the mystery then shall unfold.
My god, such doggerel!
Written in haste one Sunday afternoon in, I think, July of 1990 as we were finalising the script[^] for our movie.
It tied all the elements together, if you were the scriptwriter. I imagine everyone in our audience who hadn't been present at the script writing totally missed the connections. (That means everyone except me, Heino, Garry and Robin).
The blue was a Black and Decker power drill encased in blue plastic, found by Scarless (me) in a bed of grass. Later dialog reveals that this isn't a standard power drill running on standard 240 Volt power, no sir. Nope, this is an 80 volt drill! (we chose 80 volts because I'd never heard of any country in the world with 80 volt mains).
Scarless, in a leap of intuition that would put the most dishonest clairvoyant to shame, realises that the criminal he's chasing has left his fingerprints on a railway ticket that he (Scarless) has just purchased.
But who would say such enigmatic words? Who indeed? Swami Muktunanda no less!
Ted played the role. He'd be at least 15 years my senior and he'd been one of the voices of sanity at Turtle Video committee meetings back in the 70's.
Scarless, the hard bitten practical crime fighter, was also a spiritual being; he deferred to the Swami and sought his advice when the crime was otherwise impenetrable. Thus to Saturday October 6 1990 as we drove to the You Yangs[^] mountain range a few miles west of Melbourne.
Of all our shooting days on the project that's the one I enjoyed the most even though I forgot my jodhpurs and we had to repair to Werribee to buy a passable substitute (a pair of long johns). Yes, I appeared on camera clad in nothing below the waist but for a pair of longies! That's the price you pay for being sufficiently unprofessional that you forget a vital part of the costume. Fortunately no one not in the know has ever spotted it! Of course, very few not in the know have even seen the movie!
My scenes and Daves (Festering Wound) shot we turned to Ted. All he had to do was repeat the doggerel shown above whilst sitting in a fair wind wearing a kaftan I'd contributed to the production!
I reckon we did 50 takes! Ted could not get even a single line out without mistakes, let alone the entire doggerel. I remember once when he'd stumbled, yet again, over the 'and the mystery then shall unfold' line, at the 'and', Heino, cameraman extraordinaire said 'and and and what????'. We exploded in laughter. Fortunately Ted did too!
We even tried recording the dialogue in the van toward the end of the day. Ted, script in hand, stumbled!
But we managed to fix it 'in post'. An amazing feat of splice and cut.
may never be seen,
and it's power is not of this world.
For the mark of your ticket,
shall capture the wicked,
and the mystery then shall unfold.
My god, such doggerel!
Written in haste one Sunday afternoon in, I think, July of 1990 as we were finalising the script[^] for our movie.
It tied all the elements together, if you were the scriptwriter. I imagine everyone in our audience who hadn't been present at the script writing totally missed the connections. (That means everyone except me, Heino, Garry and Robin).
The blue was a Black and Decker power drill encased in blue plastic, found by Scarless (me) in a bed of grass. Later dialog reveals that this isn't a standard power drill running on standard 240 Volt power, no sir. Nope, this is an 80 volt drill! (we chose 80 volts because I'd never heard of any country in the world with 80 volt mains).
Scarless, in a leap of intuition that would put the most dishonest clairvoyant to shame, realises that the criminal he's chasing has left his fingerprints on a railway ticket that he (Scarless) has just purchased.
But who would say such enigmatic words? Who indeed? Swami Muktunanda no less!
Ted played the role. He'd be at least 15 years my senior and he'd been one of the voices of sanity at Turtle Video committee meetings back in the 70's.
Scarless, the hard bitten practical crime fighter, was also a spiritual being; he deferred to the Swami and sought his advice when the crime was otherwise impenetrable. Thus to Saturday October 6 1990 as we drove to the You Yangs[^] mountain range a few miles west of Melbourne.
Of all our shooting days on the project that's the one I enjoyed the most even though I forgot my jodhpurs and we had to repair to Werribee to buy a passable substitute (a pair of long johns). Yes, I appeared on camera clad in nothing below the waist but for a pair of longies! That's the price you pay for being sufficiently unprofessional that you forget a vital part of the costume. Fortunately no one not in the know has ever spotted it! Of course, very few not in the know have even seen the movie!
My scenes and Daves (Festering Wound) shot we turned to Ted. All he had to do was repeat the doggerel shown above whilst sitting in a fair wind wearing a kaftan I'd contributed to the production!
I reckon we did 50 takes! Ted could not get even a single line out without mistakes, let alone the entire doggerel. I remember once when he'd stumbled, yet again, over the 'and the mystery then shall unfold' line, at the 'and', Heino, cameraman extraordinaire said 'and and and what????'. We exploded in laughter. Fortunately Ted did too!
We even tried recording the dialogue in the van toward the end of the day. Ted, script in hand, stumbled!
But we managed to fix it 'in post'. An amazing feat of splice and cut.
I still have the power
to shock Morgan. Despite her veneer of 'sophistication' she's still really a very naive 18 year old.
We're having a holiday from each other this week. She moved out tonight to go share a flat with some friends. It's only for a week though; she's moving back in on Wednesday of next week.
It just so happens that Wednesday next week is when Sonya, Andrew and I jet off to Chicago for 11 days of swanning around the mid-west, starting at Chicago aforesaid, taking in Cleveland (no prizes for guessing why Cleveland) and thence to Niagara Falls and Toronto. We return to Chicago in time for another family wedding and then fly back to Phoenix.
So in total we're having about 18 days of not having to sleep under the same roof. Who knows? I might even miss her!
I got home during the climax of the packing; my wifes Kia Sportage was a couple of inches closer to the ground as the suspension bowed to the superior force of gravity. It was quite the surprise to walk into the kitchen and see that the sink was still there!
Seriously, I've never seen anyone pack so much for a weeks sojourn to an address about 2 miles away! Indeed, three years ago when we were about to embark on our east coast tour[^] and I observed that Morgan had three (count em, 3) suitcases, I decided that we needed a new rule. You pack it, you carry it! After some sotto voce swearing she whittled it down to two suitcases. I manage on one small suitcase. So does my wife!
Sportage packed she was ready to depart on her grand adventure but she couldn't leave it at that. Nope, she came down to announce that she was out of my hair for an entire week, with a flourish that told me she expected me to go down on bended knees and thank god!
Despite what I've written in the past about Morgan I'm not about to go twist the knife but, on the other hand, she did need some encouragement.
So I said 'Ah, so that means me and Mom can have sex again? You have no idea what a contraceptive effect you and Ryan (her son) being around can have!'.
Poor girl didn't know what to say!
We're having a holiday from each other this week. She moved out tonight to go share a flat with some friends. It's only for a week though; she's moving back in on Wednesday of next week.
It just so happens that Wednesday next week is when Sonya, Andrew and I jet off to Chicago for 11 days of swanning around the mid-west, starting at Chicago aforesaid, taking in Cleveland (no prizes for guessing why Cleveland) and thence to Niagara Falls and Toronto. We return to Chicago in time for another family wedding and then fly back to Phoenix.
So in total we're having about 18 days of not having to sleep under the same roof. Who knows? I might even miss her!
I got home during the climax of the packing; my wifes Kia Sportage was a couple of inches closer to the ground as the suspension bowed to the superior force of gravity. It was quite the surprise to walk into the kitchen and see that the sink was still there!
Seriously, I've never seen anyone pack so much for a weeks sojourn to an address about 2 miles away! Indeed, three years ago when we were about to embark on our east coast tour[^] and I observed that Morgan had three (count em, 3) suitcases, I decided that we needed a new rule. You pack it, you carry it! After some sotto voce swearing she whittled it down to two suitcases. I manage on one small suitcase. So does my wife!
Sportage packed she was ready to depart on her grand adventure but she couldn't leave it at that. Nope, she came down to announce that she was out of my hair for an entire week, with a flourish that told me she expected me to go down on bended knees and thank god!
Despite what I've written in the past about Morgan I'm not about to go twist the knife but, on the other hand, she did need some encouragement.
So I said 'Ah, so that means me and Mom can have sex again? You have no idea what a contraceptive effect you and Ryan (her son) being around can have!'.
Poor girl didn't know what to say!
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
The chewing gum scene
In our movie[^] we had a scene where Scarless (me) has vegemite on his hand. For the purpose of the script it was soot but we used vegemite for no better reason than we could.
The mechanics of the scene were simple; my sidekick and I are in the forensic lab with the Professor and his sidekick. We shake hands.
'Scarless, Professor' (Professor and I shake hands).
'Scarless, Beaker' (Beaker and I shake hands).
'Professor, Festering Wound' (The Professor and Festering Wound shake hands).
'Festering Wound, Beaker' (Festering Wound and Beaker shake hands).
You, the audience, are supposed to have seen that I start the scene with vegemite on my hand, it's transferred to the Professors hand, thence to Festering Wounds and finally to Beaker.
We stole the idea shamelessly from this movie[^] which, it should come as no surprise whatsoever, I watched tonight. First time I've seen it in probably 20 years which doubtless explains why it was that I could not, for the life of me, remember the movie from which we'd stolen the scene.
The source movie does it rather better than we did but then again, we condensed a five minute segment into somewhat less than a minute. In the source the 'heroine' takes her chewing gum out of her mouth and sticks it under a table in a cafe (disgusting habit). Then we get to see that chewing gum do the rounds of at least a dozen sets of fingers before it returns to under the table.
Of course, as the gang leave the cafe she reaches under the table to retrieve the gum and..... but no, if you want to know the punchline see the movie! :-)
The mechanics of the scene were simple; my sidekick and I are in the forensic lab with the Professor and his sidekick. We shake hands.
'Scarless, Professor' (Professor and I shake hands).
'Scarless, Beaker' (Beaker and I shake hands).
'Professor, Festering Wound' (The Professor and Festering Wound shake hands).
'Festering Wound, Beaker' (Festering Wound and Beaker shake hands).
You, the audience, are supposed to have seen that I start the scene with vegemite on my hand, it's transferred to the Professors hand, thence to Festering Wounds and finally to Beaker.
We stole the idea shamelessly from this movie[^] which, it should come as no surprise whatsoever, I watched tonight. First time I've seen it in probably 20 years which doubtless explains why it was that I could not, for the life of me, remember the movie from which we'd stolen the scene.
The source movie does it rather better than we did but then again, we condensed a five minute segment into somewhat less than a minute. In the source the 'heroine' takes her chewing gum out of her mouth and sticks it under a table in a cafe (disgusting habit). Then we get to see that chewing gum do the rounds of at least a dozen sets of fingers before it returns to under the table.
Of course, as the gang leave the cafe she reaches under the table to retrieve the gum and..... but no, if you want to know the punchline see the movie! :-)
This doesn't add up
But I'm not complaining!
The latest update on priority dates for the N400 Application for Naturalisation at the Phoenix Office of USCIS (US Citizenship and Immigration Service), issued on July 17th, indicates they're processing applications received on or before January 14th 2006.
So quite how it happens that my application, which has a priority date of May 18th 2006, has advanced to the point of interview is a source of considerable puzzlement.
Meantime I'm doing my rote learning over dinner. I think Andrew's enjoying being the questioner rather than the questioned though we often disagree and have to resort to our friend Google to prove that I'm right and he's wrong. Bastard did get me on the number of constitutional amendments though; I had 37 and he had 27. Confusion over whether the Bill of Rights were the first 10 or not...
The scariest question that may come up is to name the original 13 colonies. Let's see how I do (and I'm writing this from memory, no cheat sheet).
New Hampshire, New York, New Jersey, Massachussets, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Delaware, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia.
Easy enough to remember; think of the three News, then stick to the East Coast and work southward...
Now if only I can remember that it was the 18th amendment that ushered in Prohibition and the 19th that gave women the vote! (Yes, I did have to look those numbers up). Oh, and blessed be the 21st amendment!
The latest update on priority dates for the N400 Application for Naturalisation at the Phoenix Office of USCIS (US Citizenship and Immigration Service), issued on July 17th, indicates they're processing applications received on or before January 14th 2006.
So quite how it happens that my application, which has a priority date of May 18th 2006, has advanced to the point of interview is a source of considerable puzzlement.
Meantime I'm doing my rote learning over dinner. I think Andrew's enjoying being the questioner rather than the questioned though we often disagree and have to resort to our friend Google to prove that I'm right and he's wrong. Bastard did get me on the number of constitutional amendments though; I had 37 and he had 27. Confusion over whether the Bill of Rights were the first 10 or not...
The scariest question that may come up is to name the original 13 colonies. Let's see how I do (and I'm writing this from memory, no cheat sheet).
New Hampshire, New York, New Jersey, Massachussets, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Delaware, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia.
Easy enough to remember; think of the three News, then stick to the East Coast and work southward...
Now if only I can remember that it was the 18th amendment that ushered in Prohibition and the 19th that gave women the vote! (Yes, I did have to look those numbers up). Oh, and blessed be the 21st amendment!
Monday, July 17, 2006
Gotta love the odd anachronism
A lazy sunday afternoon spent alternating between watching movies and napping. Dunno why but I seem to take a lot more short naps these days than I used to. Probably compensation for getting less than 6 hours sleep a night on average.
On the other hand, split sleep is nothing new to me; I used, back in 1976, to sleep for three or so hours in the early evening so I could be awake for the late night movies[^]. Back then I had the excuse that the technology to record the stuff was prohibitively expensive.
One of tonights movies was The Great Garrick[^]. A better movie than the precis would indicate but not great by any means. I note that one of the peripheral but still important to the plot actors was born in 1856! Man, that's a long time ago, even for me!
I have to admit that Hollywood did try. The movie is set in France in about the year 1750. Someone on the staff somewhere must have pointed out that in France they measure distance by the metric system, for there in closeup early in the movie is a sign pointing to Paris, 160 KM. Full points for trying but a deduction for not realising that in 1750 the metric system was still about half a century into the future. Uh huh, a Napoleonic era invention.
The other anachronism is a trifle more subtle. There's music in the soundtrack and music 'in' the action. I can go with the incidental music being of the wrong era but when the orchestra strikes up a tune to accompany David Garrick onto the stage and it's obvious that a 1750 orchestra is playing music that could not have been written earlier than 1800 I have to smile.
I enjoyed the movie. I'll probably watch it again sometime.
On the other hand, split sleep is nothing new to me; I used, back in 1976, to sleep for three or so hours in the early evening so I could be awake for the late night movies[^]. Back then I had the excuse that the technology to record the stuff was prohibitively expensive.
One of tonights movies was The Great Garrick[^]. A better movie than the precis would indicate but not great by any means. I note that one of the peripheral but still important to the plot actors was born in 1856! Man, that's a long time ago, even for me!
I have to admit that Hollywood did try. The movie is set in France in about the year 1750. Someone on the staff somewhere must have pointed out that in France they measure distance by the metric system, for there in closeup early in the movie is a sign pointing to Paris, 160 KM. Full points for trying but a deduction for not realising that in 1750 the metric system was still about half a century into the future. Uh huh, a Napoleonic era invention.
The other anachronism is a trifle more subtle. There's music in the soundtrack and music 'in' the action. I can go with the incidental music being of the wrong era but when the orchestra strikes up a tune to accompany David Garrick onto the stage and it's obvious that a 1750 orchestra is playing music that could not have been written earlier than 1800 I have to smile.
I enjoyed the movie. I'll probably watch it again sometime.
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Not even close
Last night[^] I mentioned the possibility that we might hit 100 F at midnight.
It was looking likely; Friday we peaked at 113 and today I think the peak was 115. Certainly it was bloody hot about 1 PM when I went to the library to return some CD's and borrow some more.
But later in the afternoon my wife mentioned that it was 'spitting' outside. I'm not going to miss an expectoration and sure enough there were a few drops of rain falling. Lasted maybe 5 minutes and 5 minutes after that the pavement was dry again.
We went out for dinner and when we emerged from Chilis the temperature seemed to have dropped a trifle. Enough to encourage me to venture on a walk. It's been hot enough of late that I haven't done my nightly walk in nearly a week.
Thus, headphones on, music player churning out a piece of music I haven't heard for 30 years, Richard Strauss's 'Tod Und Verklärung'. I don't exaggerate when I say that at the climax I felt a chill running down my spine despite the perspiration!
Returned home, sweat pouring down my face and my ponytail saturated, it was time for a shower. I thought I'd never get the shirt off my back the way it was sticking!
Having soared the heights of late German Romantic music it was time to settle in for British Comedy Night on PBS. Watched in the comfort of air conditioning and my hair down to let it dry.
At midnight it was time to check the temperature. Unfortunately it was Saturday night and none of the channels I checked were displaying the temperature. Do they think we only care about the temperature on weeknights?
But I record that walking outside wasn't like stepping into pea soup. My wife commented that it was a lot cooler than 100; I'm guessing no more than 90. MSNBC localised to Phoenix reports, at the time of writing, that it's only 89.
It was looking likely; Friday we peaked at 113 and today I think the peak was 115. Certainly it was bloody hot about 1 PM when I went to the library to return some CD's and borrow some more.
But later in the afternoon my wife mentioned that it was 'spitting' outside. I'm not going to miss an expectoration and sure enough there were a few drops of rain falling. Lasted maybe 5 minutes and 5 minutes after that the pavement was dry again.
We went out for dinner and when we emerged from Chilis the temperature seemed to have dropped a trifle. Enough to encourage me to venture on a walk. It's been hot enough of late that I haven't done my nightly walk in nearly a week.
Thus, headphones on, music player churning out a piece of music I haven't heard for 30 years, Richard Strauss's 'Tod Und Verklärung'. I don't exaggerate when I say that at the climax I felt a chill running down my spine despite the perspiration!
Returned home, sweat pouring down my face and my ponytail saturated, it was time for a shower. I thought I'd never get the shirt off my back the way it was sticking!
Having soared the heights of late German Romantic music it was time to settle in for British Comedy Night on PBS. Watched in the comfort of air conditioning and my hair down to let it dry.
At midnight it was time to check the temperature. Unfortunately it was Saturday night and none of the channels I checked were displaying the temperature. Do they think we only care about the temperature on weeknights?
But I record that walking outside wasn't like stepping into pea soup. My wife commented that it was a lot cooler than 100; I'm guessing no more than 90. MSNBC localised to Phoenix reports, at the time of writing, that it's only 89.
Singing on the phone
wouldn't be recommended for the best singer in the world, given the quality of the average phone line. For the rest of us it's something best eschewed completely.
It was, nonetheless, a pleasure when the phone rang a couple of weeks ago. Unknown number in the display and I damn near didn't pick up. Fortunately I did, to hear Heino singing 'Happy Birthday to you' as unmelodiously as that tune is always sung. A day late my time, two days late his time, but who am I to complain?
One returns a favour when one can. Thus it was my pleasure to call Heino today (Saturday) two days late my time, three days late his, and sing 'Happy Birthday to you' right back at him!
Laughter and the obligatory mmmmaaaaaaaatttttteeeeeeeee! :-)
And so the conversation proceeded. We have a 'schtick' we go through. How's it hanging? All the way to the ground! Leaving furrows? And so on... It really doesn't matter who asks the questions or who gives the answers :-)
It works for us!
That out of the way we got down to more serious stuff. It was about this time that I became aware of some strange sounds in the background. I didn't have to wait long for an explanation.
You see, I'd called during that time in Heino's morning when certain functions must be performed and, rather than do the polite thing and leave me hanging on a silent phone for five minutes he'd taken it with him to the smallest room in the house!
Much laughter a couple of minutes later when his wife yelled 'Heino! That's disgusting!' after she realised what was happening.
You know you're talking with a best mate when a little thing like the need to take a crap doesn't get in the way. That said, next time I'm in Australia I'm definitely not accompanying him to the smallest room! He's on his own!
It was, nonetheless, a pleasure when the phone rang a couple of weeks ago. Unknown number in the display and I damn near didn't pick up. Fortunately I did, to hear Heino singing 'Happy Birthday to you' as unmelodiously as that tune is always sung. A day late my time, two days late his time, but who am I to complain?
One returns a favour when one can. Thus it was my pleasure to call Heino today (Saturday) two days late my time, three days late his, and sing 'Happy Birthday to you' right back at him!
Laughter and the obligatory mmmmaaaaaaaatttttteeeeeeeee! :-)
And so the conversation proceeded. We have a 'schtick' we go through. How's it hanging? All the way to the ground! Leaving furrows? And so on... It really doesn't matter who asks the questions or who gives the answers :-)
It works for us!
That out of the way we got down to more serious stuff. It was about this time that I became aware of some strange sounds in the background. I didn't have to wait long for an explanation.
You see, I'd called during that time in Heino's morning when certain functions must be performed and, rather than do the polite thing and leave me hanging on a silent phone for five minutes he'd taken it with him to the smallest room in the house!
Much laughter a couple of minutes later when his wife yelled 'Heino! That's disgusting!' after she realised what was happening.
You know you're talking with a best mate when a little thing like the need to take a crap doesn't get in the way. That said, next time I'm in Australia I'm definitely not accompanying him to the smallest room! He's on his own!
Am I cheating?
with this post which, at the time of writing, will show 15 of the 25 posts on the Wdevs front page as being written by me? Of course I am!
Not the first time[^] though! :-)
Not the first time[^] though! :-)
Saturday, July 15, 2006
The Visual Studio 2005 launch
Even though I've pretty much lost interest in new releases of any development environment as such I still work in the industry and I do try to keep up with the news as it relates to my area of specialisation.
'Twasn't always so of course; I was one of the very first purchasers of Visual Basic 1 and I used to pay extortionate international dial up rates to download the latest release of Zortech C++ (both events of 1991).
I've been using Visual Studio since before it was even called that! Visual C in early 1992. MSVC in various versions, most long forgotten, including MFC 1.0 which, as I recall it, came on 20 floppies and took more than ten hours to install if you didn't have smartdrv installed. Installing smartdrv cut the install time to about 2 hours.
I attended the Phoenix VS2005 launch which happened the day after the product was officially released. A free event; all one had to do was register ahead of time, print out the form with a bar code and front up on the day.
I've never really enjoyed the Microsoft events; too much time to impart too little information. The bait that got me to go to the VS2005 launch was that they were giving away a full copy, not time limited, of VS2005 professional. Always nice to have the latest.
Microsoft have learned a thing or two over the years; at previous launches they'd give out the freebies first and then do the presentations; but not this time. If we wanted the freebie we had to sit through the entire lecture. Bite the arm off at the shoulder time!
So up I fronted, at a movie theatre complex over near the 101 on Indian School Road. Microsoft had booked two theatres for the day; one live, the other for the overflow crowd who would get to see the live theatre presentation on video.
Once we'd checked in we were each handed a coupon good for popcorn and a soft drink.
There are few sadder sights in the world than the sight of a thousand overweight bearded developers, each clutching a 46 ounce bucket of popcorn in one hand and a 16 ounce drink in the other!
'Twasn't always so of course; I was one of the very first purchasers of Visual Basic 1 and I used to pay extortionate international dial up rates to download the latest release of Zortech C++ (both events of 1991).
I've been using Visual Studio since before it was even called that! Visual C in early 1992. MSVC in various versions, most long forgotten, including MFC 1.0 which, as I recall it, came on 20 floppies and took more than ten hours to install if you didn't have smartdrv installed. Installing smartdrv cut the install time to about 2 hours.
I attended the Phoenix VS2005 launch which happened the day after the product was officially released. A free event; all one had to do was register ahead of time, print out the form with a bar code and front up on the day.
I've never really enjoyed the Microsoft events; too much time to impart too little information. The bait that got me to go to the VS2005 launch was that they were giving away a full copy, not time limited, of VS2005 professional. Always nice to have the latest.
Microsoft have learned a thing or two over the years; at previous launches they'd give out the freebies first and then do the presentations; but not this time. If we wanted the freebie we had to sit through the entire lecture. Bite the arm off at the shoulder time!
So up I fronted, at a movie theatre complex over near the 101 on Indian School Road. Microsoft had booked two theatres for the day; one live, the other for the overflow crowd who would get to see the live theatre presentation on video.
Once we'd checked in we were each handed a coupon good for popcorn and a soft drink.
There are few sadder sights in the world than the sight of a thousand overweight bearded developers, each clutching a 46 ounce bucket of popcorn in one hand and a 16 ounce drink in the other!
Not a surprise
 | You scored as atheism. You are... an atheist, though you probably already knew this. Also, you probably have several people praying daily for your soul. Instead of simply being "nonreligious," atheists strongly believe in the lack of existence of a higher being, or God.
Which religion is the right one for you? (new version) created with QuizFarm.com |
Close, oh so close
But not, so far, a cigar.
I've been keeping an eye on the temperature reported at midnight in the lower right hand corner on KSAZ-TV Phoenix.
I used, a while ago, before I had my HTPC, to watch KSAZ in the 11:00 PM to 1:00 AM timeframe a lot. Nowadays I usually have anything up to 70 hours of recorded movies waiting in the queue so watching the sixth repeat of M*A*S*H doesn't cut it anymore.
KSAZ however remains my reference for the midnight temperature. Not that I believe KSAZ has an accuracy unavailable to other sources; it's merely so that I'm comparing apples with apples.
I also don't believe that what they show necessarily matches the temperature right here. It's merely a convenient approximate resource.
I've been watching the midnight temperature edge ever so closer to the magic 100 F at midnight. Got damn close tonight - 99! Warmish though that may be it's not the magical century!
Maybe tomorrow night - they're predicting 115 at Phoenix Sky Harbour International Airport.
I've been keeping an eye on the temperature reported at midnight in the lower right hand corner on KSAZ-TV Phoenix.
I used, a while ago, before I had my HTPC, to watch KSAZ in the 11:00 PM to 1:00 AM timeframe a lot. Nowadays I usually have anything up to 70 hours of recorded movies waiting in the queue so watching the sixth repeat of M*A*S*H doesn't cut it anymore.
KSAZ however remains my reference for the midnight temperature. Not that I believe KSAZ has an accuracy unavailable to other sources; it's merely so that I'm comparing apples with apples.
I also don't believe that what they show necessarily matches the temperature right here. It's merely a convenient approximate resource.
I've been watching the midnight temperature edge ever so closer to the magic 100 F at midnight. Got damn close tonight - 99! Warmish though that may be it's not the magical century!
Maybe tomorrow night - they're predicting 115 at Phoenix Sky Harbour International Airport.
Friday, July 14, 2006
Well, that was a lot sooner than I expected
When I arrived home tonight it was to find another letter from the Department of Homeland Security, summoning me to a naturalisation interview at the end of August.
Considering that the Phoenix USCIS website[^] is still quoting, at the time of writing, priority dates of June 30th 2005 for naturalisation applications and further considering that my priority date is May 18th 2006 I'm more than a little surprised the interview is so soon.
Do they run the security and background check in parallel with the other processing? Seems unlikely. So, much to the surprise of my closer friends and aquaintances, it would seem that the FBI found nothing against me. This is no surprise; I've never been arrested.
I guess it's time I brushed up on my US History and form of Government, to say nothing of the names of Representatives and Senators for Arizona.
Considering that the Phoenix USCIS website[^] is still quoting, at the time of writing, priority dates of June 30th 2005 for naturalisation applications and further considering that my priority date is May 18th 2006 I'm more than a little surprised the interview is so soon.
Do they run the security and background check in parallel with the other processing? Seems unlikely. So, much to the surprise of my closer friends and aquaintances, it would seem that the FBI found nothing against me. This is no surprise; I've never been arrested.
I guess it's time I brushed up on my US History and form of Government, to say nothing of the names of Representatives and Senators for Arizona.
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