A Lot Like Christmas

We’re still test-driving Max. “He is cute,” Kris admitted last night, as he snuggled next to her to watch Amelie. The other cats — Toto, Simon, and Nemo — aren’t convinced.

Actually, Toto is a little less growly at Max than she is at Nemo, though she’s still growly. Simon and Nemo were both cranky initially, and they’re still concerned, but their fears seem to be waning. Last night Max made blind jump onto a chair where Nemo was sleeping. Though Max stepped on him, Nemo maintained composure. Then, while we were getting ready to sleep, Max was stalking Simon’s tail. Simon was sleeping on a corner of the bed, and as he dreamed his tailed flicked gently. This was too much to resist apparently, and Maxie pounced. Simon snapped awake, but he didn’t growl or hiss — he simply glared.

Max loves to play, and I think that eventually his brothers will be pleased to have him around. Especially Nemo.

My wellness program is going well. Despite a week of temptations — some of which I succumbed to — my weight remains unchanged and I feel good. (The real benefit of this program is how I feel, actually, and not how much I weigh.)

I’ve re-discovered something I already knew: it’s a mistake to have anything tempting in the house at all. For example, I bought some hard candies for the Roth family Christmas on Saturday. Only a few got eaten, so all Sunday I munched on the leftovers. I have no self-control. This is my first real sugar lapse since starting six weeks ago. I intend to simply toss the candy when I get home tonight. Yes, it’s a waste of a couple bucks, but so what? The benefit is worth much more.

As I mentioned, we had Roth family Christmas on Saturday. It was actually rather nice. Since Tony moved his family to Bend, we don’t see him them very often. It was good to spend some time together. (This must be what it’s like for normal families — when you spend most of your waking hours with your siblings, holiday gatherings can be rather anticlimactic.)

I was startled at how much Tony’s oldest son, Michael, resembles me at that age. He’s in second grade, and looking at him is like looking at one of my school photos. I know lots of other kids, and like most of them, but looking at Michael is different. It’s eerie. It’s like looking at future J.D. Or past J.D. Or something.

The Wii was a hit, yet again. That sports game Nintendo included was a stroke of genius. It’s so easy that a four-year-old can play. Well, okay, not quite. But a five-year-old could. And a four-year-old can with the help of a parent. Until he’s bored and lays down in the middle of the floor where everyone else is trying to play tennis!

The problem with being a professional blogger (yes, I did just write that) is that there’s never any time off. A free Sunday afternoon? Should I get together with friends? Head down to Zion for sing-your-own-Messiah? Watch movies with Kris? Nope. Time to whip up a few entries because I know that I won’t have time during the day this week — I’ll be off playing Santa Claus with my customers.

Duke, R.I.P.

Amy Jo, Frykitty — go away. You don’t want to be here today.

When I got to work yesterday, Jeff gave me news I’d been dreading. “Those dumb cats came from across the road this morning.” He meant that the kittens (who are no longer kittens) had discovered the wide open field across from the shop. For the six months that they’ve lived with us, our babies have stayed close to the office. We gave them a base of operations back in the tool shed, far away from the road. They have a warm, dry place to sleep there, as well as plenty of food. The eventual fate of most cats in this neighborhood is a resting place on the road, so we did our best to discourage them from going near it. And for a few months, it worked.

“That’s not good,” I said. “It’s only a matter of time now.”

“I know,” Jeff said. “Plus, when I was pulling into my parking spot, Max was in the way. He froze in my headlights. He just stood there. I had to honk my horn to get him out of the way.”

A black cloud descended on the kitty-cat side of my brain. “Their days are numbered,” I thought. “Should I try again to convince Kris that we can take them home?”

This morning as I left for work, I told Kris about my worries. She’s not attached to my boys like I am, though, and to her it was just another story of life at the box factory.

It was a wet drive to work. The rain came down sideways in thick sheets. As I pulled into the parking lot, I breathed a sigh of relief that there were no little cat bodies on the road. My relief was short-lived. “Did you see Blackie?” Jeff asked.

“You’re kidding,” I said.

“No,” he said. “I put him on the side of the road, near the number marker.”

Though I’m dressed nicely today in order to play Santa Claus to my customers, I trudged out into the monsoon, grabbed a shovel, and found Duke’s body at the side of the road. It was rigid, like a board, which I take to mean that he’s been dead several hours at least. Like most cats that are hit here, he only seemed to be sleeping. There was no blood. Except for the fact that he was soaked through, he looked exactly as he always did, sleeping on the chair in my office.

I will miss how Duke slept on that chair (one of those from Mac and Pam) all day long.
I will miss the way he’d shriek in protest when Max woke him from a nap by chomping on his neck.
I will miss his soft and gentle trill, the way he always talked to me.
I will miss his passion for Chee-tos.
I will miss the way he barged open my office door when he wanted in — no tapping it open for him!
I will miss the way he forced himself onto my lap if I was sitting in his chair.
I will miss the way he was scared out of his wits of the new cat.
I will miss how every week the cleaning lady told me, “He’s so cute.”
I will miss the way he couldn’t figure out the water faucet — Max will drink from the stream, but Duke just climbed in and licked the sink while the water poured on top of his head.
I will miss how he and his brother were bonded like no other animals I’ve ever known.

I will miss that little cat. I didn’t know him long, but I knew him well.

Good-bye, little Dukie.

(Duke’s death brings to the forefront a huge moral quandary for me. I love Duke and Max. They’re great cats. I want to bring them home. Kris refuses. But if Toto were not there, she might be open to the idea. Toto is old an unpleasant. Ought I to get rid of her? But I’m bonded to her, no matter how much of a bitch she is. I’ve known her since the day she was born. She’s my familiar. But wouldn’t it make sense now to bring home Max and get rid of Toto? Which is more heartless? Leaving Max at the shop or abandoning my cat of thirteen years? Max loves it at the shop, though I don’t think he understand that Duke is gone. If I knew he’d be safe, I wouldn’t mind leaving him here. It’s a tough call.)

Dutch Treat

The MNF group got together last week for our annual holiday dinner and white elephant gift exchange. Some lovely items made the rounds. For example, Ron and I went home with matching garden ornaments, which Kristin and Roger had decided to purge from their yard.

Actually, I went home with the pair. While Kris was distracted, we stashed both statues on the trunk. “This is perfect,” I said. “I can hide them in the shrubbery around the border of our property. It will be a game for visiting children: find the little Dutch kids.”

I posted the photo of us holding the statues at Get Rich Slowly in an article about frugal Christmas traditions. One commenter (‘peewee’) wrote:

My family is the manufacturer of those statues!! I am from the Netherlands and we are exporting those figures all over the world. The are wearing old dutch clothing from the 19th century. We also have the correponding windmills and Amsterdam houses.

On Saturday, Kris and I attended book group at Andrew and Courtney‘s. We discussed José Saramago‘s strange Blindness. (Bookworms: there’s a sequel, Seeing.) After the discussion, as we were loading the car to leave, Kris spied the statues in the trunk. “I don’t want those,” she said. And then she got a sly grin on her face. “Let’s leave them for Andrew and Courtney.”

I snuck back up the driveway and planted the statues in a flower bed, taking care to pose them so that they kissing.

Who knows where they’ll end up next?

Children See, Children Do

Here’s a powerful public service spot, apparently out of Australia. It’s aimed at parents, but it should really be watched by everyone.

On a semi-related note, here’s a video that got Bill O’Reilly up-in-arms (not exactly a difficult task):

Leaving aside the fact that this is actually a thinly-disguised pitch for a music group‘s new album, I’m not sure how I feel about this. While I agree with some of the ideas espoused in the little girl’s tirade (which was quite clearly written by somebody else — is this not obvious to everyone?), I don’t agree with all of them. But I don’t think it’s meant to be taken seriously. I think it’s meant to get people riled up, to stir the pot. And it worked:

Bill, Bill, Bill. Don’t take the bait.

Can’t we all just get along?

[Public service spot via Dumb Little Man, ranting eight-year-old via Metafilter]

How to Walk

I took a day off work last week to get some errands done. Among other things, I swung by Pacesetter Athletic in Woodstock to get some instruction on how to use my shoes. That’s right: I needed remedial walking lessons.

I bought my shoes at the beginning of November during the store’s “20% off sale”. The owner helped me find an appropriate pair. “Listen to me,” he said, staring me in the eyes, “I want you to come back. I don’t have time to go over things with you now, but I want you to come back. You need to learn how to use these shoes. You need to learn how to walk.”

The only trouble was the owner wasn’t ever in his shop when I had free time. When I took a day off for other errands, I took the opportunity to drop by. At first he didn’t recognize me, but when he took a look at my old shoes, it all came back to him. “Oh yeah,” he said. “These shoes are crap. Look how they have these ‘air cushions’ in them. It’s all a gimmick. They don’t provide any support. Here — put them on again.”

And so I did.

He led me outside and had me walk back-and-forth. Then he had me jog back-and-forth. “Your feet wobble all over the place,” he told me. “Those shoes are awful. You have no support. Now try on your new shoes.”

I tried on my new shoes. I walked across the parking lot. I jogged across the parking lot. “See?” he said. “Isn’t that better. You were rolling your foot from the outside to the inside. This shoe helps correct that. But you’re still not walking properly. Let me show you how.”

The owner showed me how to walk. “You have to breathe deeply as you walk,” he said, and he made a big swooping motion with his arms, presumably filling up his lungs. “Also, you need to relax your shoulders. Keep your back straight. Keep your butt underneath you. You’re leaning forward like this.”

A light clicked. “Is that why I get shin splints?” I asked.

“Exactly!” he said, leading me inside. “Here, let me write this down for you. On a piece of paper he scrawled:

Checklist — every 5-10 minutes

  1. Breathe deep
  2. Relax shoulders
  3. Back straight
  4. Hip or butt underneath you

Keep BALANCE!!

He also sold me an insert for my shoe, a thick piece of foam with an additional piece of foam glued in place as an arch support. “I want you to try these,” he told me. “I think they’ll help you.”

He sent me on my merry way.

When I got home, I tried the shoes with the new arch support. I started my three-mile route down along River Forest Loop. I could tell there were problems immediately. My feet were cramping, just like they used to. The shoe felt tight. But after a mile of pain, I stopped and removed the arches. Everything was fine.

I walked.

I practiced mindfulness. Every few minutes, I did a mental inventory. Was I breathing deeply? Was I relaxing my shoulders? Was my back straight? Was my butt underneath me?

Mostly, I was able to do all these things. (I have some trouble understanding the “relax shoulders” bit. I feel like I have slouchy shoulders to begin with. Can you get more relaxed than that?) When I had finished the walk, I was pleased to realize that I was not sore. I did not have shin splints. Now I just need to walk more often.

The Decemberists and Stupid Pet Tricks

It’s YouTube day here at foldedspace! First up, for Kris, is The Decemberist’s recent appearance on David Letterman. Craig should like this, too. They perform “Valencia”.

Next, for my brother Jeff, is the stupidest dog in the world:

And, finally, for me there’s videos of funny cats. (The first clip is short and very, very funny):

I love cats.

I Love My MacBook Pro

Allow me to rave some more about my new computer. Again.

I’ve never purchased a top-of-the-line machine before, so this is new experience. I feel like I’m on the cutting edge. Admittedly, a lot of this stuff isn’t new — people have been doing these things for months or years — but it’s all new to me, and I’m wallowing in the wonder of it all.

Here are some of the things I love:

  • Video chat — You’ll recall that Mac, Joel, and I participated in videophone market research some years ago. That was a novelty, and showed promise, but ultimately was a hassle to use. Apple has removed all barriers. New iMacs and MacBooks ship with built-in video cameras at the top of the screen. Video chat is as easy to initiate as any other chat. And it’s fun! We don’t see Jeremy and Jennifer as often as we’d like, but last night we spent 45 minutes together via video chat. It was awesome. It’s a completely different experience than instant messaging or voice chat (which is just like telephone). I’m sold. I want all of my friends to rush out and buy MacBooks so that I can do video chat with them. Mac! Joel! This means you!
  • Windows — For years, Mac-users have been able to run Windows via a product called Virtual PC. The truth is Virtual PC sucks. It’s slow. It’s cumbersome. It’s a bother. Since Apple switched to Intel chips, the same chips that Windows PCs are built on, it’s much easier for programmers to make Windows work on a Mac. And that’s what they’ve done. Apple offers a free download of a product called Boot Camp, which lets you opt to start in either MacOS or Windows, but even better is a piece of software called Parallels. Parallels lets you run both MacOS and Windows at the same time. Not everyone needs to do this, but for a few this is a godsend. For example, I wrote all the Custom Box software in Visual Basic on a PC; now I can run those programs on my Mac.
  • Dashboard — I shouldn’t love this feature so much, but I do. The Mac “dashboard” is a collection of little mini-programs called “widgets”. When you press F12, your regular desktop fades to the background and your collection of widgets appears. I have a calendar widget, a dictionary widget, a Flickr widget, a Wikipedia widget, a weather report widget, a stock market widget, and a Google widget all running. If I need some info, I simply tap F12 and voila!! I have what I need. This is one of those jaw-droppingly simple things, like a scroll wheel on a mouse, that has revolutionized the way I work.
  • iTunes — I’ve always been ambivalent toward iTunes. I liked WinAmp on the PC, so I found the iTunes interface clunky and restrictive. But I’ve grown to embrace The iTunes Way. By giving up control of my files, I’ve gained accessibility. It’s easy to search for songs and albums and artists in iTunes. And though it’s mostly just eye-candy, I love the new album-art jukebox. It makes the experience more visceral, as if I’m actually flipping through my CD collection. It’s improved my relationship with iTunes immensely.
  • Speed — As I said, I’ve never bought a top-of-the-line machine before now. I’ve built PCs that were near the cutting edge, but they’ve generally had problems. This is the fastest laptop that Apple makes, and I packed it with 3gb of RAM, which is the most memory it could take. Things are silky s-m-o-o-t-h. It is a pleasure to use.
  • Wide screen — A few weeks ago, I bought an Apple 23″ Cinema Display, which has amazing resolution. You can fit a lot on that screen. It made me realize just how important screen space is to me. On a normal monitor (at 1024×768), I can work with only one program at a time. On a larger display, I can have multiple programs open side-by-side. For many people, this isn’t an issue. But for me, as I write my weblog entries, I want to be able to have my text editor open next to my web browser. On this wide-screen laptop, I can. When I go back to 1024×768 now, things feel cramped.

I’m like a raving fanboy. I don’t care. I’ve only had this machine three days, and already I know it’s the best computer I’ve ever owned. While the 17″ size is still rather large and cumbersome, I’m getting used to it. This computer will never be as convenient as the 12″ models I’ve had for the past five years, but the additional screen real estate is a fair compromise.

“You’ve come a long way since you switched back to Mac,” Jeremy said last night over video chat.

“Yeah,” I said. “When I first switched back, I found a lot of things frustrating. I wasn’t wholly sold on the Mac experience. I’m sold now.” And I am. This is the way computing should be: fun, exciting, and productive.

For the geeky, here are some comparative stats.

On 30 September 2002, I switched back to Mac by purchasing a 12″ iBook. It was a 700mhz G3 with 128mb RAM and a 20gb hard drive. The iBook had a DVD/CD-burner combo. It connected to the internet via internal modem or an ethernet cable. (I eventually bought an add-on wireless card and expanded the memory to 640mb.) I purchased very little software for the iBook; most of what I needed came with it.

On 27 November 2006, I purchased this 17″ widescreen MacBook Pro. It’s a 2.33ghz Intel core 2 duo with 3gb RAM and a 160gb hard drive. The machine comes with a fast wireless connection, built-in video camera, and who knows what else. I’ll purchase very little software for the MacBook Pro; most what I need comes with it.

The Long and Winding Road

A lot of people have been asking how much I’m making from my web sites. A vague answer is: enough to order a new pimped-out MacBook Pro.

My goal all along has been to earn enough to order a new computer. Not exactly reaching for the stars, I know, but a fella’s gotta start somewhere. My initial goal was to be able to do this by October 2007. But when Apple announced upgrades to their laptops on October 24th of this year, I realized that I could afford to buy one now. I placed an order that afternoon. (But not without some deliberation: should I go with the 7200rpm/100gb drive, the 5400rpm/160gb drive, or the 4200rpm/200gb drive? The choices we geeks face…)

I was eager to get my new machine. Because I was taking the second week of November off to write, I figured that would be a great time to break in my new computer. When I placed my order, I frowned at the estimated delivery date: November 7th, the Thursday of my week off. “Ah well,” I thought, “there’s plenty of time to get writing done early in the week, and then time to play with the new computer at the end of the week.”

During my vacation, I checked the order status several times every day, hoping that the computer would shipped early. It never did. In fact, it hadn’t shipped by November 7th, the day it was supposed to reach me, and then suddenly the ship date changed to November 12th! This made me sad, but it gave me an opportunity to alter my order. In the two weeks since placing it, I’d realized that I actually wanted a large hard drive, not a fast one, so I called Apple and made a small adjustment. No problem, right? Wrong.

By changing this one aspect of my order, the ship date was pushed out further still! The new ship date was November 22nd, the day before Thanksgiving.

Again I waited, hoping the machine might ship early. It didn’t. But it did ship from Shanghai on Wednesday morning. “Hot damn,” I thought. “It might reach me by Friday.” I watched the tracking reports as the computer flew to Anchorage, Alaska, then boarded a plane for Indianapolis. “It’s really going to do it,” I thought. “It’s really going to reach me by Friday.” When I went to sleep on Thanksgiving night, the computer was still in Indianapolis, but I had great confidence it would reach me the next day.

On Friday, I sat cold and alone in the Custom Box Service offices. (This is the deadest day of the year for us. Nobody calls. Nobody comes in to work. It’s just a ghost town.) The FedEx web site still promised delivery by noon. The FedEx telephone system said the same thing. But according to the tracking report, the computer was still in Indianapolis. “Maybe the tracking report is wrong,” I thought, but deep inside I knew the tracking reports are never wrong.

I waited in the office until one before I called FedEx again and paged through to an operator. “I’m sorry, sir,” she told me. “Your package has been delayed in Indianapolis.” I sighed and drove home.

For a time over the weekend, I actually forgot about the endless wait. (Forgot, that is, until Paul J. cruelly reminded me.)

I had a dentist appointment early this morning. FedEx usually comes to the shop late morning or early-afternoon. I expected to come back and still have to wait for the computer to arrive. But just as I was walking out the door, the FedEx truck pulled into the drive. Such torture! I signed for the package, opened it, looked at the shiny metal case, but then had to leave to get a filling. O cruel fate!

Eventually, of course, I was able to use my new computer. In fact, I’m typing this entry on it now. It’s quick and responsive. The screen is ginormous (1680×1050 &dmash; just imagine what this is going to be like when coupled with my 24″ cinema display). I love the new features in OS X.4 (I had never bothered to upgrade my other Macs).

I wish I had more time to play with the new computer right now, but I don’t. I have a lot of writing to do. But make no doubt: play with this beast, I shall!

I’m just happy that it’s finally here.

I ordered my MacBook Pro on the afternoon of October 24th. It finally reached me on the morning of November 27th. That’s a l-o-n-g wait.

You Win Some, You Lose Some

The extended holiday weekend gave me an opportunity to catch up with old friends.

On Wednesday, Andrew and Joann joined us for dinner. In August, they hosted us for a couple of nights during our trip to San Francisco; we were happy to return the hospitality. We decided to fix them a swell new dish: beef tenderloin stuffed with pine nuts and monterey jack cheese. Unfortunately, the dish was swell only in theory.

That’s right — we committed an entertainment faux pas by attempting to impress company with a meal we’d never tried before. We could have served Caprial’s beef tenderloin with pepper and port sauce, a dish we’ve made many times, a dish that we can nail, a dish that never fails to impress. But we got cocky and went for something new. The results were disastrous. Though we followed directions, the meat was bland and undercooked. I thought the balsamic vinegar clashed terribly with the other ingredients. It was a mess. We should have surrendered and ordered pizza, but we stuck it out, finishing the steaks. Andrew and Joann get gold stars for that.

After dinner, I preached the glory of the Wii. We had fun with Wii Sports, but when it came time to play something else, I realized I don’t have any other good multiplayer games yet. We tried to play the Monkeyball party games, but it was an exercise in frustration. None of them made any sense. And I hadn’t unlocked enough of the Rayman multiplayer games for it to be any fun. My top priority for this machine is to get another fun multiplayer game so that my evangelism can carry more weight.

My weekend food endeavors weren’t all bad. I made some yummy mashed potatoes for family Thanksgiving on Thursday. On Saturday, I surprised myself by mixing up a batch of damn good bean soup. It was easy! Here’s what I did:

J.D.’s Impromptu Bean Soup
Soak 2-1/2 cups Bob’s Red Mill 13-bean blend for six hours. Rinse. Add 2 quarts water. Bring to boil over high heat. While waiting for the boil, add the other ingredients as they become ready: 3 tablespoons Bob’s Red Mill Bean Soup Seasoning, 1 teaspoon hickory smoke salt, 1 yellow onion (diced), 3-5 cloves garlic (minced), 1 can tomato sauce, and about 1 pound of the pork product of your choice. (I used ham because we had some in the freezer. Bacon works. Fresh ham works.) Cook for about two hours, until beans are done to your liking. Remove from heat. For best flavor, store overnight in fridge.

It’s good stuff, I tell you — good stuff!

Yesterday we met up with Nicole Lindroos and her husband, Chris Pramas, for brunch at Wild Abandon in southeast Portland. Paul and Amy Jo joined us. I love to go out for breakfast. It’s a treat I don’t get very often because it’s Kris’ least favorite meal. It was an adjustment for me to order a breakfast with limited sugar. Normally I’d devour a huge stack of pancakes and then slather them in syrup. Yesterday I ordered a ham-and-cheese omelet with fried potatoes. The only real sugar came from ketchup and from a small blueberry scone. Still, the meal was good.

I should join Paul and Amy Jo for breakfast more often.