Amperage
1 day ago
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Happy but not too
The TV actress said she would "happily" take a pay cut if it meant more people could afford to see her on stage.
I notice that nowhere does it say "she happily volunteered to do this for the Proletariat at minimum wage".
"Oh, la, it's so horrible making a living wage. Sure, I would work for less, if I had to. Oh, sorry, got to go, my Blackberry is calling me. We'll chat later about my pay ..."
What crap.
This self-congratulatory blather is more elitist than "give me £50 for a ticket." I've never paid that much for one. Not even the Phantom of the Opera production in Toronto. She's totally living in a financial disconnect with reality.
Sure, I know that theater tickets go for $100 (£50), which is probably cheap in some locations. I've seen great theater in Lansing & East Lansing. Paying $100 presumes that I want to go see some big-name production. Because I, as a connesieur of theater couldn't possibly be bored with the mundane production of Laundry and Bourbon by some Lansing theater group. And the production of Jesus Christ Superstar at Lansing Community College couldn't possibly have been better than the off-Broadway production in the big professional auditorium, could it? [well, parts were] Even the Stratford Shakespeare Festival, which is big-time, only charged $45 or $50 for great seats. I think we paid $30 for good ones.
And then she - and the rest of the throw $100 at a theater ticket crowd - can go pat themselves on the back for being One Of the People when they deign to visit one of the little theaters with such quaint productions.
It's not the price of a ticket. I don't care if you pay $250. I suppose it's possible that I might drop a hundred dollars for one, but I really can't imagine doing so. To see the Red Wings in the playoffs at The Joe? Hell, yes, I'd pay $100. But no one is expecting Chris Osgood to suddenly say "I'd take a pay cut if it meant making hockey more accessible".
It's the self-righteous superiority of "well, I would ..." Who the hell wants to make lower wages? I'm not taking a pay cut so that some company can make workplace safety "more accessible" and "less elitist". I'm sure KAS isn't going to take a pay cut so that some movie studio can make their tickets more accessible. By what? "I'll pay him $7.25/hr, and then we can charge $8.99999999999999999999999, rather than $9?"
The only people who prattle on about "elitistism" are either the elitists themselves, who don't want to be painted as such, or run-down disenfranchised marxists who are pissed that capitalism seems to work.
I notice that nowhere does it say "she happily volunteered to do this for the Proletariat at minimum wage".
"Oh, la, it's so horrible making a living wage. Sure, I would work for less, if I had to. Oh, sorry, got to go, my Blackberry is calling me. We'll chat later about my pay ..."
What crap.
This self-congratulatory blather is more elitist than "give me £50 for a ticket." I've never paid that much for one. Not even the Phantom of the Opera production in Toronto. She's totally living in a financial disconnect with reality.
Sure, I know that theater tickets go for $100 (£50), which is probably cheap in some locations. I've seen great theater in Lansing & East Lansing. Paying $100 presumes that I want to go see some big-name production. Because I, as a connesieur of theater couldn't possibly be bored with the mundane production of Laundry and Bourbon by some Lansing theater group. And the production of Jesus Christ Superstar at Lansing Community College couldn't possibly have been better than the off-Broadway production in the big professional auditorium, could it? [well, parts were] Even the Stratford Shakespeare Festival, which is big-time, only charged $45 or $50 for great seats. I think we paid $30 for good ones.
And then she - and the rest of the throw $100 at a theater ticket crowd - can go pat themselves on the back for being One Of the People when they deign to visit one of the little theaters with such quaint productions.
It's not the price of a ticket. I don't care if you pay $250. I suppose it's possible that I might drop a hundred dollars for one, but I really can't imagine doing so. To see the Red Wings in the playoffs at The Joe? Hell, yes, I'd pay $100. But no one is expecting Chris Osgood to suddenly say "I'd take a pay cut if it meant making hockey more accessible".
It's the self-righteous superiority of "well, I would ..." Who the hell wants to make lower wages? I'm not taking a pay cut so that some company can make workplace safety "more accessible" and "less elitist". I'm sure KAS isn't going to take a pay cut so that some movie studio can make their tickets more accessible. By what? "I'll pay him $7.25/hr, and then we can charge $8.99999999999999999999999, rather than $9?"
The only people who prattle on about "elitistism" are either the elitists themselves, who don't want to be painted as such, or run-down disenfranchised marxists who are pissed that capitalism seems to work.
cell phones & peanut butter
In that case, Moriarty says, an undercover officer was offered $200 for a cell phone — and only $50 for heroin.
And who still thinks technology hasn't altered the American Economy?
And who still thinks technology hasn't altered the American Economy?
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
4th of July
We survived a 2 day camping expedition into the great northern woods of Minnesota. Well, actually, we managed to not kill each other while at the Father Hennepin State Park up near Brainard (2 hr. north of the Twin Cities).
Gregor had never been camping before; Michael last did more than 2 years ago. Which was also the last time Peter & I did.
A total fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants preparation found us without some of the more important items, like dish soap or fuel for the cooker.
Not being intimidated by the prospect of creating fire from combustible solid hydrocarbons, I simply purchased a small packet of extremely expensive firewood. Oh, make that extremely expensive wet firewood. Even the little bits pulled off to make kindling were kind of ... soggy. The family next door took pity on me, and gave me a little gizmo to help start it. Worked wonders, for about 10 minutes. The fellow came back over with a couple pieces of dry lumber (read: old 2x4 with, no doubt, lead-based paint). Worked wonders. For another 5 minutes. I’m sitting there, embarrassed, and wanting to defend my ineptitude by weakly stating that ‘no, really, I can start a fire’. After his assistance, he still couldn't get it to light. He walks away, and returns with the ultimate combustion intervention: charcoal lighter fluid. Splash, spray, whoom! Less than 5 minutes later, there’s no fire. At this point, I am no longer embarrassed. Yet another 10 minutes later, with a bunch of super-dry kindling and little twigs and one of those gizmos, I had a fire. Barely. the whole time it was lackadaisically burning, I could hear the hissing of the moisture in the wood. Luckily, there was enough heat to manage to cook our dinner.
While walking along the shore of Lake Mille Lacs (one of those “you’re from Minnesota if you can pronounce this ‘right’” location names), Michael got to see many different things of nature: Monster-sized white mushrooms, and boy, do I mean monster-sized. A couple families of ducks. Crayfish (I didn’t realize they could live this far north and survive winter). Little fish. Dead crayfish and equally dead fish. Rocks. A bald eagle. Spiders. Fishing dock, a boat ramp. And, apparently his favorite, the playground swings.
Both boys had a blast playing at the beach. Gregor kept piling sand on himself. And his shoes. And down his overalls. Michael on the 2nd day, simply did away with the clothing, and proceeded to run back and forth between rolling in the sand and washing it all off in the lake. The cold lake, I might add. July 4 is not far enough into Summer to warm up any lake here.
Peter and I got to enjoy the walks in the woods, and mused that in a few years, we might actually get to see more of the woods once both boys are capable of walking with a bit more endurance.
On the evening of the 4th, after returning from the camping trip, we were sorting out piles and trying to get the boys in the bathtub, when someone knocks on the front door. There’s some man standing there as our neighbor hollers “there’s someone here to talk to you”. My initial thought is “who? none of my classmates or friends know where my new house is ...?” It’s a fellow we met at Mass last Sunday, who lives on the next block. They were having a neighborhood potluck-barbeque and thought we might like to join them. So, finish scrubbing the initial layer of grunge off the boys, and walked up a few houses on the other block and had dinner/wine/wading pool/beer with the neighbors & a pile of children. Our new neighborhood is certainly a ... diverse place. Hmmm ... Peter & I are straight and both white, making us, if not a minority, distinctly not a majority. Melanin content, sexual flavor or preference, or geographical origin not withstanding, we had a great time. Michael got to try his first Sparkler. A good warm-up for the fireworks.
After the potluck, we headed up another 2 blocks to the large city park where there would be some fireworks. Michael was not at all happy about this, having totally berserk freaked out the last 2 times we’ve seen fireworks. This went much better, all things considered.
At Powderhorn Lake, waiting for the fireworks.
At Minnehaha Falls, at south end of Minneapolis, where it flows into the Mississippi.
Gregor had never been camping before; Michael last did more than 2 years ago. Which was also the last time Peter & I did.
A total fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants preparation found us without some of the more important items, like dish soap or fuel for the cooker.
Not being intimidated by the prospect of creating fire from combustible solid hydrocarbons, I simply purchased a small packet of extremely expensive firewood. Oh, make that extremely expensive wet firewood. Even the little bits pulled off to make kindling were kind of ... soggy. The family next door took pity on me, and gave me a little gizmo to help start it. Worked wonders, for about 10 minutes. The fellow came back over with a couple pieces of dry lumber (read: old 2x4 with, no doubt, lead-based paint). Worked wonders. For another 5 minutes. I’m sitting there, embarrassed, and wanting to defend my ineptitude by weakly stating that ‘no, really, I can start a fire’. After his assistance, he still couldn't get it to light. He walks away, and returns with the ultimate combustion intervention: charcoal lighter fluid. Splash, spray, whoom! Less than 5 minutes later, there’s no fire. At this point, I am no longer embarrassed. Yet another 10 minutes later, with a bunch of super-dry kindling and little twigs and one of those gizmos, I had a fire. Barely. the whole time it was lackadaisically burning, I could hear the hissing of the moisture in the wood. Luckily, there was enough heat to manage to cook our dinner.
While walking along the shore of Lake Mille Lacs (one of those “you’re from Minnesota if you can pronounce this ‘right’” location names), Michael got to see many different things of nature: Monster-sized white mushrooms, and boy, do I mean monster-sized. A couple families of ducks. Crayfish (I didn’t realize they could live this far north and survive winter). Little fish. Dead crayfish and equally dead fish. Rocks. A bald eagle. Spiders. Fishing dock, a boat ramp. And, apparently his favorite, the playground swings.
Both boys had a blast playing at the beach. Gregor kept piling sand on himself. And his shoes. And down his overalls. Michael on the 2nd day, simply did away with the clothing, and proceeded to run back and forth between rolling in the sand and washing it all off in the lake. The cold lake, I might add. July 4 is not far enough into Summer to warm up any lake here.
Peter and I got to enjoy the walks in the woods, and mused that in a few years, we might actually get to see more of the woods once both boys are capable of walking with a bit more endurance.
On the evening of the 4th, after returning from the camping trip, we were sorting out piles and trying to get the boys in the bathtub, when someone knocks on the front door. There’s some man standing there as our neighbor hollers “there’s someone here to talk to you”. My initial thought is “who? none of my classmates or friends know where my new house is ...?” It’s a fellow we met at Mass last Sunday, who lives on the next block. They were having a neighborhood potluck-barbeque and thought we might like to join them. So, finish scrubbing the initial layer of grunge off the boys, and walked up a few houses on the other block and had dinner/wine/wading pool/beer with the neighbors & a pile of children. Our new neighborhood is certainly a ... diverse place. Hmmm ... Peter & I are straight and both white, making us, if not a minority, distinctly not a majority. Melanin content, sexual flavor or preference, or geographical origin not withstanding, we had a great time. Michael got to try his first Sparkler. A good warm-up for the fireworks.
After the potluck, we headed up another 2 blocks to the large city park where there would be some fireworks. Michael was not at all happy about this, having totally berserk freaked out the last 2 times we’ve seen fireworks. This went much better, all things considered.
At Powderhorn Lake, waiting for the fireworks.
At Minnehaha Falls, at south end of Minneapolis, where it flows into the Mississippi.
Monday, July 7, 2008
You Bet Your Life ... and mine
For summary comparison purposes:
Barack Obama plays one of the only games it's possible to win at; plays it in a way that avoids negative expected value; and by all accounts, plays it pretty well. (poker)
John McCain is intensely dedicated to a game that is expensive to play, consumes inordinate amounts of time, and is mathematically impossible to win over the long term. (craps)
Barack Obama plays one of the only games it's possible to win at; plays it in a way that avoids negative expected value; and by all accounts, plays it pretty well. (poker)
John McCain is intensely dedicated to a game that is expensive to play, consumes inordinate amounts of time, and is mathematically impossible to win over the long term. (craps)
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Stupidity of half-time interviews
While Der Spiegel managed to ridicule all of these, I think some are rather amusing, even if they started off as flip answers or verbal faux pas.
The ball is round, and the game lasts 90 minutes.
Der Ball ist rund und das Spiel dauert 90 Minuten. - Sepp herberger
After the game is before the game.
Nach dem Spiel ist vor dem Spiel. S. Herberger
The round thing needs to go in the square thing.
Das Rund muß ins Eckige - S. Herberger oder J. Derwal
You can win any game. You can loose any game.
Man kann jedes Spiel gewinnen. Man kann jedes spiel verlieren. - F. Beckenbauer
Soccer is like chess, with out the dice.
Fußbal ist wie Schach, nur ohne Würfel. - L. Podalski
There's only one possiblity: victory, defeat, or a tie.
Es gibt nur eine Möglichkeit: Sieg, Niederlage under Unentschieden. - F. Beckenbauer
Sometimes you lose; sometimes the other fellow wins.
Mal verliert man und mal gewinnt die anderen. - O. Rehhagel
Afterall, when it comes to goals, you rarely have to count above three, while with yellow cards, to count to two is sufficient. - explination why soccer players apparently can't count.
At the moment it's 1:1. But it could have gone the other way.
Es steht im augenblick 1:1. Aber es Hätte auch ungekhert laufen können. = H. Fassbender
The ball is round, and the game lasts 90 minutes.
Der Ball ist rund und das Spiel dauert 90 Minuten. - Sepp herberger
After the game is before the game.
Nach dem Spiel ist vor dem Spiel. S. Herberger
The round thing needs to go in the square thing.
Das Rund muß ins Eckige - S. Herberger oder J. Derwal
You can win any game. You can loose any game.
Man kann jedes Spiel gewinnen. Man kann jedes spiel verlieren. - F. Beckenbauer
Soccer is like chess, with out the dice.
Fußbal ist wie Schach, nur ohne Würfel. - L. Podalski
There's only one possiblity: victory, defeat, or a tie.
Es gibt nur eine Möglichkeit: Sieg, Niederlage under Unentschieden. - F. Beckenbauer
Sometimes you lose; sometimes the other fellow wins.
Mal verliert man und mal gewinnt die anderen. - O. Rehhagel
Afterall, when it comes to goals, you rarely have to count above three, while with yellow cards, to count to two is sufficient. - explination why soccer players apparently can't count.
At the moment it's 1:1. But it could have gone the other way.
Es steht im augenblick 1:1. Aber es Hätte auch ungekhert laufen können. = H. Fassbender
Synonyms
Super Party Size = Big Fat Butt Size
got me thinking about other synonyms.
Wind-swept look = didn’t bother to comb hair this a.m.
decadent = expensive
splurge = extra fat
indulge = higher profit margin
"flaws are unique and contribute to the beauty of [object you just bought]" = our quality control sucks, but since we only pay 15 cents/hour, we're going to laugh at you westerners for buying our 3rd world junk
multi-cultural event = us white folks want to hang with everyone else in an environment which allows us to maintain a numerical superiority
traditional food = as long as you're the only white person in the joint, yummmmm
traditional food from some European country where they're white anyway = something with the same name, but makes the natives' eyebrows raise
low-fat = too much sugar
handicap parking = why doesn't being 8 month pregnant count?
vegetarian = someone who still salivates at the smell of bacon
30% seasonal clearance sale = we already make our profit quota on all the other schmucks who wanted a swimsuit in March.
Death toll = body count
got me thinking about other synonyms.
Wind-swept look = didn’t bother to comb hair this a.m.
decadent = expensive
splurge = extra fat
indulge = higher profit margin
"flaws are unique and contribute to the beauty of [object you just bought]" = our quality control sucks, but since we only pay 15 cents/hour, we're going to laugh at you westerners for buying our 3rd world junk
multi-cultural event = us white folks want to hang with everyone else in an environment which allows us to maintain a numerical superiority
traditional food = as long as you're the only white person in the joint, yummmmm
traditional food from some European country where they're white anyway = something with the same name, but makes the natives' eyebrows raise
low-fat = too much sugar
handicap parking = why doesn't being 8 month pregnant count?
vegetarian = someone who still salivates at the smell of bacon
30% seasonal clearance sale = we already make our profit quota on all the other schmucks who wanted a swimsuit in March.
Death toll = body count
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Never Forgotten
The black & white bumper stickers w/ the POW/MIA logo & inscription: Not Forgotten are commonplace. A far more concrete commitment is an effort to fulfill this promise. There's a funeral for a US soldier next week at Fort Snelling National Cemetery (like Arlington, but in Minnesota). He was MIA in 1950 in Korea.
A while ago the identification was made of the Vietnam soldier buried at the Tomb of the Unknown at Arlington. It was questioned whether or not we could have such a monument in the future, due to the marvel of DNA identification testing. I suppose we would be better off being able to de-commission it. Ideally, because we weren't killing our fellow citizens; but at a minimum, because no one was left in the limbo of anonymity.
A while ago the identification was made of the Vietnam soldier buried at the Tomb of the Unknown at Arlington. It was questioned whether or not we could have such a monument in the future, due to the marvel of DNA identification testing. I suppose we would be better off being able to de-commission it. Ideally, because we weren't killing our fellow citizens; but at a minimum, because no one was left in the limbo of anonymity.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
What else do they have of mine?
I've had enough problems in my life with computers. Mix my driving record with some felon and spend the night in jail: do not pass go, definitely don't get $200. Have I mentioned recently that I hate Comcast? What total fuck-ups.
The information to anyone astonishes me.http://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif Okay, so don't care where Al Franken was living 2 years ago. I really could care less where Dr. Phil votes, although I would care that he only gets one. Still - what are these people doing for a life? Wouldn't you rather go to the movies than request FOI documents on Dr. Phil's voting record? How's that workin' for you?
The information to anyone astonishes me.http://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif Okay, so don't care where Al Franken was living 2 years ago. I really could care less where Dr. Phil votes, although I would care that he only gets one. Still - what are these people doing for a life? Wouldn't you rather go to the movies than request FOI documents on Dr. Phil's voting record? How's that workin' for you?
Monday, June 23, 2008
True Love
Our Son #1 has obviously discovered True Love. This evening, finishing dinner, he announced that he wanted to go outside and play with Josie (the next-door neighbor's youngest daughter). She's also 4. No big deal, happens every evening.
He then announced he wanted dessert. Obviously no surprise. He then stated his intention of going outside to share his dessert with Josie. Wow.
15 minutes later, upon receipt of his cookie, he pitched a fit that it got broken to share with Son #2. But .... he then asked Papa to break his piece in half. Why? So that he could take it outside and share with Josie.
Swappin' spit ain't got nothin' on sharing Pepperidge Farm cookies.
He then announced he wanted dessert. Obviously no surprise. He then stated his intention of going outside to share his dessert with Josie. Wow.
15 minutes later, upon receipt of his cookie, he pitched a fit that it got broken to share with Son #2. But .... he then asked Papa to break his piece in half. Why? So that he could take it outside and share with Josie.
Swappin' spit ain't got nothin' on sharing Pepperidge Farm cookies.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Beginning or End?
The boys' newest video wonder is Jungle Book. The original. well, not the one with pages... The Bear Necessities version. (auf Deutsch)
The video starts playing, the credits start rolling, and Michael starts demanding that I start the video, that 'it's the end!'
Of course, having been made before I was born, the movie credits are ... at the beginning.
The video starts playing, the credits start rolling, and Michael starts demanding that I start the video, that 'it's the end!'
Of course, having been made before I was born, the movie credits are ... at the beginning.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Political videos: ordinary, not-as-advertized, wow, and finally, well done
Ordinary:
Nice, old-fashioned 'get your attention' method, but it's still around because it works.
Not-as-advertised
"Shock" ad? Who is MoveOn.org kidding? This isn't shocking. Give the mom the same script and then ending with the 12-month old little Alex in baby-sized desert fatigues, lying dead in Faluja ... that would have been shocking. Or end it with an adult man in desert fatigues lying dead in some hell-hole in Iraq, with the mom saying "and I didn't want you to have little Alex's daddy either." Less shocking, more relevant.
Wow
You want a shock ad? Try this one. Right after the Hispanic/Latino/Mexican group, Somalis are the next biggest social/ethnic group in the Twin Cities. (nothing astonishing in the script, just the fact it was made)
Well done
okay, so we already know I'd rather vote for the Zipper/Chewy ticket than McCain/X . But this was better done than most I've seen, even if the computer editing isn't. The title caught my eye initially: "McCain: How he stopped worrying and learned to hate YouTube"
Nice, old-fashioned 'get your attention' method, but it's still around because it works.
Not-as-advertised
"Shock" ad? Who is MoveOn.org kidding? This isn't shocking. Give the mom the same script and then ending with the 12-month old little Alex in baby-sized desert fatigues, lying dead in Faluja ... that would have been shocking. Or end it with an adult man in desert fatigues lying dead in some hell-hole in Iraq, with the mom saying "and I didn't want you to have little Alex's daddy either." Less shocking, more relevant.
Wow
You want a shock ad? Try this one. Right after the Hispanic/Latino/Mexican group, Somalis are the next biggest social/ethnic group in the Twin Cities. (nothing astonishing in the script, just the fact it was made)
Well done
okay, so we already know I'd rather vote for the Zipper/Chewy ticket than McCain/X . But this was better done than most I've seen, even if the computer editing isn't. The title caught my eye initially: "McCain: How he stopped worrying and learned to hate YouTube"
The Imperial Jesus
'The Family' appears to be an interesting book, of the flavor 'god, just kill me now, before they destroy my life and the world'.
The Minnesota Independent ran a long article with the author. Toward the end is his reflections on how H. Clinton fits in with the conservative Christian group of his book.
The Minnesota Independent ran a long article with the author. Toward the end is his reflections on how H. Clinton fits in with the conservative Christian group of his book.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Total Guilt Trip
So, Friday rolls around, and I would have succeeded in completing my first full week of work in 4 years when I came home that night. The boys are eating breakfast. Peter is having a cup o' joe. I am heading out the door, saying good-bye.
Michael: Where are you going, Mama?
Me: I'm going to work. [there's a phrase unused for 4 years]
Michael: I don't want you to go to work!
Me: why not?
Michael: You need to stay here.
Me: why?
very long, thoughtful pause.
Michael: to be with me.
Four years old!!
four years old!
I don't do the good old-fashion Catholic guilt-trip! Where the hell did he learn it from!?? Where? Cut my heart out and pour Drain-O on it! I'm a horrible mother! He isn't even going to be at home! He's going to be @ Kinderstube (the german pre-school)!
God, this shit sucks.
I like my job, though.
Sunday morning, 2 days later:
Me: Come on, boys, it's time to get up & get dressed.
Michael: Where are we going?
Me: It's Sunday. We're going to church.
Michael: I don't want to go to church. I want to go to Kinderstube.
Gregor doesn't fling himself at me, when I come home anymore. The last 2 times he's run, arms out, joyfully across the yard, right up to me, and then zoomed around me, to catch the cat. Again today.
I like my job, though.
So, I signed this confidentiality-thing as a condition of employment at Honeywell. Which means I can't actually tell you exactly what I do for work. But, I was watching my boss today, and as he hectically told me for the 3rd time today that he would need to postpone our meeting, I simply said, "I used to have your job. I so totally sympathize."
I like my job.
Michael: Where are you going, Mama?
Me: I'm going to work. [there's a phrase unused for 4 years]
Michael: I don't want you to go to work!
Me: why not?
Michael: You need to stay here.
Me: why?
very long, thoughtful pause.
Michael: to be with me.
Four years old!!
four years old!
I don't do the good old-fashion Catholic guilt-trip! Where the hell did he learn it from!?? Where? Cut my heart out and pour Drain-O on it! I'm a horrible mother! He isn't even going to be at home! He's going to be @ Kinderstube (the german pre-school)!
God, this shit sucks.
I like my job, though.
Sunday morning, 2 days later:
Me: Come on, boys, it's time to get up & get dressed.
Michael: Where are we going?
Me: It's Sunday. We're going to church.
Michael: I don't want to go to church. I want to go to Kinderstube.
Gregor doesn't fling himself at me, when I come home anymore. The last 2 times he's run, arms out, joyfully across the yard, right up to me, and then zoomed around me, to catch the cat. Again today.
I like my job, though.
So, I signed this confidentiality-thing as a condition of employment at Honeywell. Which means I can't actually tell you exactly what I do for work. But, I was watching my boss today, and as he hectically told me for the 3rd time today that he would need to postpone our meeting, I simply said, "I used to have your job. I so totally sympathize."
I like my job.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
1.2 million sq. ft.
1,200,000 sq. ft. =
27.55 acres =
0.11 sq. km =
11.2 hectares =
1,111.111 times bigger than our house in Lansing =
1,114,836,480,000,000,038,753,601,580,957,696.00 barns*
Or
1.2 million sq. ft. = 10 minute walk from my office to the front door of the Honeywell plant in Golden Valley.
I've gotten lost very single time I've walked more than 20 feet out of my office door. With a map. Luckily there's a bathroom in the safety department's area, or else I'd have exploded or resorted to leaving a trail of breadcrumbs. Which would probably have gotten run over by the NASCAR forklift truck speedway.
*no clue what this 'barns' is, but it's awful damn small. It was just an option on the 'unit conversion' program.
27.55 acres =
0.11 sq. km =
11.2 hectares =
1,111.111 times bigger than our house in Lansing =
1,114,836,480,000,000,038,753,601,580,957,696.00 barns*
Or
1.2 million sq. ft. = 10 minute walk from my office to the front door of the Honeywell plant in Golden Valley.
I've gotten lost very single time I've walked more than 20 feet out of my office door. With a map. Luckily there's a bathroom in the safety department's area, or else I'd have exploded or resorted to leaving a trail of breadcrumbs. Which would probably have gotten run over by the NASCAR forklift truck speedway.
*no clue what this 'barns' is, but it's awful damn small. It was just an option on the 'unit conversion' program.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Enjoying our new home
We can sit in our front yard, watch the boys play, and the dogs & cats & bunnies stroll down the sidewalk, listen to the neighbors chatting, and enjoy life on a warm summer evening.
don't know why the front image doesn't show up ... this one has more Gregor.
don't know why the front image doesn't show up ... this one has more Gregor.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
DE 2:0 PO
Peter & I spent a few hours today @ the Glockenspiel pub in St. Paul watching the Germany:Poland game in the group games for the European championship. It would have been more enjoyable if the TV hadn't repeatedly shut off. Including shutting off for one of the goals. The crowd roars in frustration for the 3rd of 4th time the t.v. goes blank. A couple minutes pass. Several men decide they need to pee. Silence in the pub. Then a woman's voice in the corner yells "It's 2:0!" There is a groan of joy mixed with anguish at the fact we can't see it. The fellows in the john hear us screaming, and figure Germany just scored a 2nd goal. Nope. We screamed in jubilation simply because the game came back on.
All in all, it was fun. A small hoard of German ex-pats made a lively group. Who needs the Olympics? UEFA & World Cup are where it's at.
All in all, it was fun. A small hoard of German ex-pats made a lively group. Who needs the Olympics? UEFA & World Cup are where it's at.
Miraculous change? or simply depressing status quo?
I started to write "As a lighthearted Summer activity..."
I then read all the way through Sen. Nelson's legislation highlights including the elimination of the electoral college.
Go write you legislator. and mine. all of them. the 2 presidential candidates. Anyone else who will listen. tell them to fix the damn system.
This includes just about everything I think is fucked up with the Great American Democratic "I Might Get My Vote Counted" system. For a group of men who were so totally focused on "No Taxation Without Representation", it's amazing that the electoral college has lasted this long. My vote doesn't actually count. I am therefore without representation. I shouldn't be required to pay taxes. [well, at the moment the IRS is screwing that up too, but that's another story ...] What about that old "one person one vote"? Perhaps that only counts for the oligarchs in the country.
Or, as someone else put it, create a Constitutional crisis, if we get a repeat of 2000.
I then read all the way through Sen. Nelson's legislation highlights including the elimination of the electoral college.
Go write you legislator. and mine. all of them. the 2 presidential candidates. Anyone else who will listen. tell them to fix the damn system.
This includes just about everything I think is fucked up with the Great American Democratic "I Might Get My Vote Counted" system. For a group of men who were so totally focused on "No Taxation Without Representation", it's amazing that the electoral college has lasted this long. My vote doesn't actually count. I am therefore without representation. I shouldn't be required to pay taxes. [well, at the moment the IRS is screwing that up too, but that's another story ...] What about that old "one person one vote"? Perhaps that only counts for the oligarchs in the country.
Or, as someone else put it, create a Constitutional crisis, if we get a repeat of 2000.
15 seconds of fame
On Friday, I attended a forum hosted by Minnesota Public Radio regarding the current relationship between the Media and the Public. One of the media people there was taking notes. It was a chat about how We The People see the current and the desired relationship between the public and the media. It was interesting. Certainly biased simply based upon the fact all 14 of us are MPR listeners and are (with one or 2 exceptions) college educated and interested in politics/media. That said, it was still interesting. If you look about 80% of the way down the page linked above, one of the things I said got quoted. If it ever gets broadcast, I'll let you know.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
