When I was growing up

When I was growing up in Omaha, I would walk the mile or so from home
to school twice a day. I know. It sounds odd nowadays, doesn't it? A
kid walking
to a school that was a mile away from her house. But that was the way
it was back then. And no one thought twice about it. In fact, I still
see kids from my school, wearing the same uniforms we wore back then,
making that familiar trek. I hated the walk, though. Particularly on
the way home, as there was a huge hill, sloped at a daunting forty-two
degrees (we measured it one day with a protractor---I make no claims
for the accuracy of that measurement)that looked much like Mount
Everest when your backpack was crammed with heavy text books. But once
you crested that hill, you could breathe a huge sigh of relief as it
was smooth---flat---sailing all the way home. As far as walks go, I've
learned over the years that my walk to school was an interesting one in
an aesthetic sense. It could have been much worse. We could have walked
through slums. Instead, we had beautiful old houses in an old
neighborhood to look at. We could have been scorched by the hot
Nebraska sun. In reality, however, we had ample shade from all of the
established trees. We could have had to dodge five lanes of traffic on
an overly busy street with an exceedingly short light-cycle to get to
the school. Instead, we had an overpass that took us fifty feet above
the street and delivered us to the other side. We could have had vacant
lots to look at, but instead we had Memorial Park
and its famous rose gardens. Now, I never really thought all that much
about the "Memorial" in Memorial Park. It was just one of those places
I saw every day of my life. It was where we went sledding in the
winter. It was where we flew kites in March. It was where my brothers
would go to play a game of pickup soccer or football. It simply a park
that was next-door to my church and my school. It was the last place I
saw before I walked into school, and the first place I saw when I went
home. It wasn't until I was older that I realized that the huge,
gleaming, white colonnade was supposed to represent something. One
Saturday, when I was fourteen or so, I actually read the plaques that
are sparsley placed around the park and it was mildly surprising to
realize that it wasn't just a park after all. That this place I had
seen every day of my life actually had a purpose other than the one I
had assigned to it. I had thought it was just a huge expanse of green
space where people liked to go to play. That's all it meant to me at
that point. It honestly never occurred to me that it was meant to honor
those who had passed before us, giving their lives so that we might be
free. It was then that I stopped taking it for granted and appreciated
it all the more. It has struck me, over the years, how many people
continue to ignore places like Memorial Park. The most memorable
example is from college. At the Union at Iowa State, there is a
vestibule that leads out to the fountains and central campus. The Union
is a glorious old building and it was built in a time when
architectural beauty meant stone, marble and gleaming floors; it meant
sweeping staircases and large archways leading into high-cielinged
rooms replete with gracefully arched, twenty-foot windows. That
beautiful vestibule is meant to be the main entrance into the Union and
to denote its stature as such, it was built out of fine stone, smooth
to the touch, opaque to the eye, and meant to last. The names of those
Iowa State University students who died in WWI, WWII, Korea and Vietnam
are carved into the vestibule walls. Unfortunately, there is also a
small amount of blank space on that curved wall, left for those who
might die in future wars. But no one pays them any attention. Because
that vestibule also happens to be where a large, decorative bronze
relief of the Zodiac
was placed into the granite floor. School legend has it that if you
walk directly over the Zodiac, you will fail your next test. You can
stand there and watch the paranoia at work: every single person---even
the professors---who enters the Union by that door will take pains to
walk around the Zodiac and not over it. After all, you wouldn't
want to flunk your next test, would you? Unsurprisingly, the Zodiac
shows very little wear and tear. In the wintertime, the Union
janitorial staff even places the floor mats around the Zodiac, where
the people walk, and not over it. What would the point be? But this act
of paying heed to superstition brings these people within mere inches
of the names of those who died fighting for our freedom. Do people pay
attention? No. They're more interested in not flunking their next exam.
On this Memorial Day, I would simply ask you to pay attention to all
those things you pass by on a daily basis that were originally meant to
make you remember the sacrifices of those who came before you. Pay
attention and notice them, even if you pass them every day of your
life. Let those monuments to those who died for our freedom serve their
intended purpose: to make you remember how lucky you are that someone
was willing to fight so that you might live in freedom.

Posted by: Kathy at 11:38 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 971 words, total size 5 kb.

When I was growing up

When I was growing up in Omaha, I would walk the mile or so from home
to school twice a day. I know. It sounds odd nowadays, doesn't it? A
kid walking
to a school that was a mile away from her house. But that was the way
it was back then. And no one thought twice about it. In fact, I still
see kids from my school, wearing the same uniforms we wore back then,
making that familiar trek. I hated the walk, though. Particularly on
the way home, as there was a huge hill, sloped at a daunting forty-two
degrees (we measured it one day with a protractor---I make no claims
for the accuracy of that measurement)that looked much like Mount
Everest when your backpack was crammed with heavy text books. But once
you crested that hill, you could breathe a huge sigh of relief as it
was smooth---flat---sailing all the way home. As far as walks go, I've
learned over the years that my walk to school was an interesting one in
an aesthetic sense. It could have been much worse. We could have walked
through slums. Instead, we had beautiful old houses in an old
neighborhood to look at. We could have been scorched by the hot
Nebraska sun. In reality, however, we had ample shade from all of the
established trees. We could have had to dodge five lanes of traffic on
an overly busy street with an exceedingly short light-cycle to get to
the school. Instead, we had an overpass that took us fifty feet above
the street and delivered us to the other side. We could have had vacant
lots to look at, but instead we had Memorial Park
and its famous rose gardens. Now, I never really thought all that much
about the "Memorial" in Memorial Park. It was just one of those places
I saw every day of my life. It was where we went sledding in the
winter. It was where we flew kites in March. It was where my brothers
would go to play a game of pickup soccer or football. It simply a park
that was next-door to my church and my school. It was the last place I
saw before I walked into school, and the first place I saw when I went
home. It wasn't until I was older that I realized that the huge,
gleaming, white colonnade was supposed to represent something. One
Saturday, when I was fourteen or so, I actually read the plaques that
are sparsley placed around the park and it was mildly surprising to
realize that it wasn't just a park after all. That this place I had
seen every day of my life actually had a purpose other than the one I
had assigned to it. I had thought it was just a huge expanse of green
space where people liked to go to play. That's all it meant to me at
that point. It honestly never occurred to me that it was meant to honor
those who had passed before us, giving their lives so that we might be
free. It was then that I stopped taking it for granted and appreciated
it all the more. It has struck me, over the years, how many people
continue to ignore places like Memorial Park. The most memorable
example is from college. At the Union at Iowa State, there is a
vestibule that leads out to the fountains and central campus. The Union
is a glorious old building and it was built in a time when
architectural beauty meant stone, marble and gleaming floors; it meant
sweeping staircases and large archways leading into high-cielinged
rooms replete with gracefully arched, twenty-foot windows. That
beautiful vestibule is meant to be the main entrance into the Union and
to denote its stature as such, it was built out of fine stone, smooth
to the touch, opaque to the eye, and meant to last. The names of those
Iowa State University students who died in WWI, WWII, Korea and Vietnam
are carved into the vestibule walls. Unfortunately, there is also a
small amount of blank space on that curved wall, left for those who
might die in future wars. But no one pays them any attention. Because
that vestibule also happens to be where a large, decorative bronze
relief of the Zodiac
was placed into the granite floor. School legend has it that if you
walk directly over the Zodiac, you will fail your next test. You can
stand there and watch the paranoia at work: every single person---even
the professors---who enters the Union by that door will take pains to
walk around the Zodiac and not over it. After all, you wouldn't
want to flunk your next test, would you? Unsurprisingly, the Zodiac
shows very little wear and tear. In the wintertime, the Union
janitorial staff even places the floor mats around the Zodiac, where
the people walk, and not over it. What would the point be? But this act
of paying heed to superstition brings these people within mere inches
of the names of those who died fighting for our freedom. Do people pay
attention? No. They're more interested in not flunking their next exam.
On this Memorial Day, I would simply ask you to pay attention to all
those things you pass by on a daily basis that were originally meant to
make you remember the sacrifices of those who came before you. Pay
attention and notice them, even if you pass them every day of your
life. Let those monuments to those who died for our freedom serve their
intended purpose: to make you remember how lucky you are that someone
was willing to fight so that you might live in freedom.

Posted by: Kathy at 11:38 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 971 words, total size 5 kb.

Courtesy of Michele and Garrulitis

Courtesy of Michele and Garrulitis in response to this article.

NEW YORK — American athletes have been warned not to wave
the U.S. flag during their medal celebrations at this summer's Olympic
Games in Athens, for fear of provoking crowd hostility and harming the
country's already-battered public image. The spectacle of victorious
athletes grabbing a national flag and parading it around the stadium is
a familiar part of international sporting competition, but U.S. Olympic
officials have ordered their 550-strong team to exercise restraint and
avoid any jingoistic behavior.
The plan is part of a charm offensive aimed at repairing the country's
international reputation after the deepening crisis in Iraq and
damaging revelations of the mistreatment of Iraqi prisoners by U.S.
forces at the Abu Ghraib prison. "American athletes find themselves in
extraordinary circumstances in Athens in relation to the world as we
know it right now," said Mike Moran, a veteran former spokesman for the
United States Olympic Committee who has been retained as a consultant
to advise athletes how to behave. "Regardless of whether there is
anti-American sentiment in Athens or not, the world watches Americans a
lot now in terms of how they behave and our culture. What I am trying
to do with the athletes and coaches is to suggest to them that they
consider how the normal things they do at an event, including the
Olympics, might be viewed as confrontational or insulting or cause
embarrassment."

Forgive me for sounding like a jingo, but who in the name of God cares
what the rest of the world thinks about us. God, it's so effing
juvenile. Why on earth should we mount a "charm offensive" for people
who are never going to be impressed with us, no matter what we do or
what we say?
Are we, as a country, really so damn needy that it's essential for
everyone to like us?
Apparently, the USOC thinks so. Hence "the charm offensive." Don't wave
the flag around, don't jump up and down and hoot and holler and be
obnoxious about your victory. Don't piss anyone off, and then maybe
people will like you. Working under the Dennis Miller's theorem that
"life is just tall grade school," let's apply the lessons of grade
school to this problem. Grade school lesson #1: people will never like
you because you want them to like you. They will either like you or they won't. Simple fact o' life.

I was not a popular kid. Shocking, I know. I spent years
trying to get people to like me. I cried. I bent over backwards to
please the Gods of popularity. I wondered and wondered what I could do
to get people to like me. I worked at it and nothing ever came of it.
You know what finally worked? Just being myself and the attitude that
anyone who didn't like it could go hang. It's a brutal lesson to learn,
because you think it's your fault that people despise you and snicker
about you behind your back. You think that you should be able to change
people's impressions. The hard truth says otherwise: most of the time
it's not your fault. Yes, there are the moments when you are an ass and
you deserve the ridicule that you recieve, but those are far and few in
between when you're an unpopular kid. Trust me on this one. The amount
of ridicule I received never equalled the times I was an ass. Although,
it sure as hell didn't feel like it at the time. It always felt like I
deserved it.
What the situation essentially boils down to is that you are trying to
leap the insurmountable wall of other people's incorrect assumptions
and you will never get there. Not even if you're the school pole
vaulting champion. You will always knock down the bar and you will hit
the mat...hard. You eventually learn that you have absolute absolutely
no control over what anyone thinks of you. You just don't. Does this
give you license to act like an ass? No. But it doesn't mean that
you're automatically an idiot because someone says you are, either. I
am not a needy individual, nor do I think my fellow citizens on the
USOC should be so damn needy as to hire a consultant to teach athletes
not to flaunt their patriotism because they just want people to like
Americans.
Commenters over at Michele's place and on other blogs have said that we
should just boycott the Olympics altogether. No. This is the wrong
thing to do. We should go. Why? Because, like the UN, the idea behind
the Olympics is worthy of paying homage to.

According to the Olympic Charter,
established by Pierre de Coubertin, the goal of the Olympic Movement is
to contribute to building a peaceful and better world by educating
youth through sport practised without discrimination of any kind and in
the Olympic spirit, which requires mutual understanding with a spirit
of friendship, solidarity and fair play.

Never mind the practicalities, the ideals
are what has made humanity so damn good, and are also what has made the
Olympics something to watch and wonder about for reasons other than the
sporting events. It's one of those "big ideas" that changed the world.
Noting that discrimination and mutual understanding, solidarity and
fair play should be a part of international sport is a big idea.
America is a part of the Western world. We are a democracy. The ideals
of the Olympic games are modeled in democracy, not totalitarianism. Not
fascism. Not communism. Democracy. Our values are a part of
what makes the Olympic ideal something to be aspired to. If American
athletes should attend the games with bowed heads, apologetic hearts,
while whispering a prayer that they don't offend someone with their
ideals, what does that say about how highly we value ourselves and by
that right, our ideals? It says, in essence, that our ideals suck. That
we're sorry for having them. That, to me, is just wrong.

Posted by: Kathy at 11:37 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 1016 words, total size 6 kb.

Courtesy of Michele and Garrulitis

Courtesy of Michele and Garrulitis in response to this article.

NEW YORK — American athletes have been warned not to wave
the U.S. flag during their medal celebrations at this summer's Olympic
Games in Athens, for fear of provoking crowd hostility and harming the
country's already-battered public image. The spectacle of victorious
athletes grabbing a national flag and parading it around the stadium is
a familiar part of international sporting competition, but U.S. Olympic
officials have ordered their 550-strong team to exercise restraint and
avoid any jingoistic behavior.
The plan is part of a charm offensive aimed at repairing the country's
international reputation after the deepening crisis in Iraq and
damaging revelations of the mistreatment of Iraqi prisoners by U.S.
forces at the Abu Ghraib prison. "American athletes find themselves in
extraordinary circumstances in Athens in relation to the world as we
know it right now," said Mike Moran, a veteran former spokesman for the
United States Olympic Committee who has been retained as a consultant
to advise athletes how to behave. "Regardless of whether there is
anti-American sentiment in Athens or not, the world watches Americans a
lot now in terms of how they behave and our culture. What I am trying
to do with the athletes and coaches is to suggest to them that they
consider how the normal things they do at an event, including the
Olympics, might be viewed as confrontational or insulting or cause
embarrassment."

Forgive me for sounding like a jingo, but who in the name of God cares
what the rest of the world thinks about us. God, it's so effing
juvenile. Why on earth should we mount a "charm offensive" for people
who are never going to be impressed with us, no matter what we do or
what we say?
Are we, as a country, really so damn needy that it's essential for
everyone to like us?
Apparently, the USOC thinks so. Hence "the charm offensive." Don't wave
the flag around, don't jump up and down and hoot and holler and be
obnoxious about your victory. Don't piss anyone off, and then maybe
people will like you. Working under the Dennis Miller's theorem that
"life is just tall grade school," let's apply the lessons of grade
school to this problem. Grade school lesson #1: people will never like
you because you want them to like you. They will either like you or they won't. Simple fact o' life.

I was not a popular kid. Shocking, I know. I spent years
trying to get people to like me. I cried. I bent over backwards to
please the Gods of popularity. I wondered and wondered what I could do
to get people to like me. I worked at it and nothing ever came of it.
You know what finally worked? Just being myself and the attitude that
anyone who didn't like it could go hang. It's a brutal lesson to learn,
because you think it's your fault that people despise you and snicker
about you behind your back. You think that you should be able to change
people's impressions. The hard truth says otherwise: most of the time
it's not your fault. Yes, there are the moments when you are an ass and
you deserve the ridicule that you recieve, but those are far and few in
between when you're an unpopular kid. Trust me on this one. The amount
of ridicule I received never equalled the times I was an ass. Although,
it sure as hell didn't feel like it at the time. It always felt like I
deserved it.
What the situation essentially boils down to is that you are trying to
leap the insurmountable wall of other people's incorrect assumptions
and you will never get there. Not even if you're the school pole
vaulting champion. You will always knock down the bar and you will hit
the mat...hard. You eventually learn that you have absolute absolutely
no control over what anyone thinks of you. You just don't. Does this
give you license to act like an ass? No. But it doesn't mean that
you're automatically an idiot because someone says you are, either. I
am not a needy individual, nor do I think my fellow citizens on the
USOC should be so damn needy as to hire a consultant to teach athletes
not to flaunt their patriotism because they just want people to like
Americans.
Commenters over at Michele's place and on other blogs have said that we
should just boycott the Olympics altogether. No. This is the wrong
thing to do. We should go. Why? Because, like the UN, the idea behind
the Olympics is worthy of paying homage to.

According to the Olympic Charter,
established by Pierre de Coubertin, the goal of the Olympic Movement is
to contribute to building a peaceful and better world by educating
youth through sport practised without discrimination of any kind and in
the Olympic spirit, which requires mutual understanding with a spirit
of friendship, solidarity and fair play.

Never mind the practicalities, the ideals
are what has made humanity so damn good, and are also what has made the
Olympics something to watch and wonder about for reasons other than the
sporting events. It's one of those "big ideas" that changed the world.
Noting that discrimination and mutual understanding, solidarity and
fair play should be a part of international sport is a big idea.
America is a part of the Western world. We are a democracy. The ideals
of the Olympic games are modeled in democracy, not totalitarianism. Not
fascism. Not communism. Democracy. Our values are a part of
what makes the Olympic ideal something to be aspired to. If American
athletes should attend the games with bowed heads, apologetic hearts,
while whispering a prayer that they don't offend someone with their
ideals, what does that say about how highly we value ourselves and by
that right, our ideals? It says, in essence, that our ideals suck. That
we're sorry for having them. That, to me, is just wrong.

Posted by: Kathy at 11:37 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 1016 words, total size 6 kb.

Mr. H. loves roller coasters.

Mr. H. loves roller coasters. He goes out of his way to go to amusement
parks because he loves the adrenaline rush. For the past few years he's
been trying to get a group together to drive to Ohio to hit all the
coasters on King's Island (I think that's the name of it). Never mind
the fact that that's a really long drive from the Twin Cities, he wants
to go. In the past, he's actually volunteered to ferry ML's and the
Doctor's kids through Six Flags outside of Chicago (he had a blast,
too). So, this one is for him. Enjoy, darling. And know that if ever I
find out that you took part in trying to break this record, the
friendship's off. This
is not safe for gazing upon while you're at work or if you are a person
of strong moral value who does not like to look at pictures of naked
people. (Mom, don't open this one up)

Posted by: Kathy at 11:36 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 173 words, total size 1 kb.

Mr. H. loves roller coasters.

Mr. H. loves roller coasters. He goes out of his way to go to amusement
parks because he loves the adrenaline rush. For the past few years he's
been trying to get a group together to drive to Ohio to hit all the
coasters on King's Island (I think that's the name of it). Never mind
the fact that that's a really long drive from the Twin Cities, he wants
to go. In the past, he's actually volunteered to ferry ML's and the
Doctor's kids through Six Flags outside of Chicago (he had a blast,
too). So, this one is for him. Enjoy, darling. And know that if ever I
find out that you took part in trying to break this record, the
friendship's off. This
is not safe for gazing upon while you're at work or if you are a person
of strong moral value who does not like to look at pictures of naked
people. (Mom, don't open this one up)

Posted by: Kathy at 11:36 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 173 words, total size 1 kb.

And yes, I did mean

And yes, I did mean to put the "Majors" in her name. I'm not so out of
it that I didn't know she divorced the Six Million Dollar Man eons ago.
It's a direct tribute to that era of Farrah's hairstyle---she was
married to the guy, she was on Charlie's Angels
and she had the ultimate feathered-do.
The reference all comes together quite nicely, don't you think? Because
you thought of Farrah in her Charlie days, didn't you? I know you did.
Don't lie to me. Anyway, I've been growing my mane out for about a year
now, and since my old do was a nice layered job, the layers have grown
out and, at times, I look like a brunette Farrah.
This morning would be one of those times.
I can't decide whether I like this or not. I suppose, however, I'll
figure it out before I chop off all this freakin'
hair sometime this summer, after it becomes too hot for my poor neck.
(I have exceedingly thick, naturally curly hair---which is its own
frizzy trial on humid days)
I do however feel like sitting down on a sofa with my compadres, in
front of a speaker phone placed prominently on Bosley's desk, and doing
my darndest to solve a crime whilst simultaneously attempting to suss
out just what Charlie looks like.
It's going to be one of those days, folks. Beware.

Posted by: Kathy at 11:11 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 244 words, total size 1 kb.

And yes, I did mean

And yes, I did mean to put the "Majors" in her name. I'm not so out of
it that I didn't know she divorced the Six Million Dollar Man eons ago.
It's a direct tribute to that era of Farrah's hairstyle---she was
married to the guy, she was on Charlie's Angels
and she had the ultimate feathered-do.
The reference all comes together quite nicely, don't you think? Because
you thought of Farrah in her Charlie days, didn't you? I know you did.
Don't lie to me. Anyway, I've been growing my mane out for about a year
now, and since my old do was a nice layered job, the layers have grown
out and, at times, I look like a brunette Farrah.
This morning would be one of those times.
I can't decide whether I like this or not. I suppose, however, I'll
figure it out before I chop off all this freakin'
hair sometime this summer, after it becomes too hot for my poor neck.
(I have exceedingly thick, naturally curly hair---which is its own
frizzy trial on humid days)
I do however feel like sitting down on a sofa with my compadres, in
front of a speaker phone placed prominently on Bosley's desk, and doing
my darndest to solve a crime whilst simultaneously attempting to suss
out just what Charlie looks like.
It's going to be one of those days, folks. Beware.

Posted by: Kathy at 11:11 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 244 words, total size 1 kb.

...when I tell him this

...when I tell him this frightens me.

Mr Gates made a point of dwelling on blogs and said that
although they started in the technical community and have come to be a
broader social phenomenon, businesses can use them too. They had
advantages over more traditional ways of keeping in touch such as
e-mail and websites, he said. E-mail messages could be too imposing or
miss out key people who should be included, said Mr Gates. Websites
were a problem too, he added, because they demand that people visit
them regularly to find out if anything has changed and require regular
updating to avoid going stale. These problems could be solved, said Mr
Gates, by using blogs and Real Simple Syndication (RSS), that lets
people know when a favourite journal is updated. "What blogging and
these notifications are about is that you make it very easy to
communicate," he said. "The ultimate idea is that you should get the
information you want when you want it." {...}Microsoft currently does
not make any individual blogging tools but it is widely expected to
move into this space soon. If it does the move would pitch it into even
sharper competition with Google and others such as AOL.

I don't want Microsquash in this market. I really, really, really
don't. Gates has a habit of throwing money around to gain access to the
pie du jour for his sticky fingers. I don't want him goofing up the
blogging market with his gobs of cash. For months now, I've been
bitching about Blogger. It's a pretty low-tech excursion---or at least
it used to be. But all that's changed in the last two weeks. I adore
Blogger now that they've done the upgrade. I now have permalinks. I
have comments. I have a nifty template, but most of all, I have free
hosting. Blogger is free because they're ad-revenue based. Now I read I
get free photo hosting as
well. I have no idea how long Google's munificence is going to
last---I'm assuming that at some point in time they'll start charging
for all of this stuff, but right now I'm taking it while I can. But if
nerdboy wants into this market, well, that changes things. The husband,
Mr. IT Strategy, tells me this is nothing to worry about. That anything
Microsquash comes up with will mainly be for business apps, and they'll
eventually lose money because other services---Google---are offering
this service for free. He says that I should look at the history of
IM'ing to see what will ultimately happen with blogs. I dunno. What
happens in the meantime and what sort of turmoil will the rest of us
have to suffer through because nerdboy wants to rule the world? {hat
tip: Adam Curry}

Posted by: Kathy at 11:02 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 471 words, total size 3 kb.

...when I tell him this

...when I tell him this frightens me.

Mr Gates made a point of dwelling on blogs and said that
although they started in the technical community and have come to be a
broader social phenomenon, businesses can use them too. They had
advantages over more traditional ways of keeping in touch such as
e-mail and websites, he said. E-mail messages could be too imposing or
miss out key people who should be included, said Mr Gates. Websites
were a problem too, he added, because they demand that people visit
them regularly to find out if anything has changed and require regular
updating to avoid going stale. These problems could be solved, said Mr
Gates, by using blogs and Real Simple Syndication (RSS), that lets
people know when a favourite journal is updated. "What blogging and
these notifications are about is that you make it very easy to
communicate," he said. "The ultimate idea is that you should get the
information you want when you want it." {...}Microsoft currently does
not make any individual blogging tools but it is widely expected to
move into this space soon. If it does the move would pitch it into even
sharper competition with Google and others such as AOL.

I don't want Microsquash in this market. I really, really, really
don't. Gates has a habit of throwing money around to gain access to the
pie du jour for his sticky fingers. I don't want him goofing up the
blogging market with his gobs of cash. For months now, I've been
bitching about Blogger. It's a pretty low-tech excursion---or at least
it used to be. But all that's changed in the last two weeks. I adore
Blogger now that they've done the upgrade. I now have permalinks. I
have comments. I have a nifty template, but most of all, I have free
hosting. Blogger is free because they're ad-revenue based. Now I read I
get free photo hosting as
well. I have no idea how long Google's munificence is going to
last---I'm assuming that at some point in time they'll start charging
for all of this stuff, but right now I'm taking it while I can. But if
nerdboy wants into this market, well, that changes things. The husband,
Mr. IT Strategy, tells me this is nothing to worry about. That anything
Microsquash comes up with will mainly be for business apps, and they'll
eventually lose money because other services---Google---are offering
this service for free. He says that I should look at the history of
IM'ing to see what will ultimately happen with blogs. I dunno. What
happens in the meantime and what sort of turmoil will the rest of us
have to suffer through because nerdboy wants to rule the world? {hat
tip: Adam Curry}

Posted by: Kathy at 11:02 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 471 words, total size 3 kb.

There are days when I

There are days when I wonder if, in the human race, there are varying
sizes of brains. I read once that, in the natural kingdom, there can be
different brain sizes within the same species. The example they put
forth was that of squirrels. I wonder if this is true for humans. If
so, Hugo Chavez is in the tiny human brain category.

In his latest jibe against the U.S. leader, the outspoken
left-wing Venezuelan president urged Bush to use his planned visit to
the Vatican on June 4 to announce the withdrawal of U.S. troops from
Iraq.
"Even though he's not a Catholic ... he should ask God's forgiveness at
the Vatican ... go down on his knees in front of the Pope and ask for
the forgiveness of the world, not just the Iraqi people," Chavez told a
news conference Friday in Caracas.

{Insert hand going to forehead. SLAP!}

Posted by: Kathy at 11:00 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 161 words, total size 1 kb.

There are days when I

There are days when I wonder if, in the human race, there are varying
sizes of brains. I read once that, in the natural kingdom, there can be
different brain sizes within the same species. The example they put
forth was that of squirrels. I wonder if this is true for humans. If
so, Hugo Chavez is in the tiny human brain category.

In his latest jibe against the U.S. leader, the outspoken
left-wing Venezuelan president urged Bush to use his planned visit to
the Vatican on June 4 to announce the withdrawal of U.S. troops from
Iraq.
"Even though he's not a Catholic ... he should ask God's forgiveness at
the Vatican ... go down on his knees in front of the Pope and ask for
the forgiveness of the world, not just the Iraqi people," Chavez told a
news conference Friday in Caracas.

{Insert hand going to forehead. SLAP!}

Posted by: Kathy at 11:00 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 161 words, total size 1 kb.

Don't you just love it

Don't you just love it when you turn on your computer in the morning
and it decides to tell you that it can't open your settings because there's some corrupted memory file and it would prefer to open up an entirely new user in XP?

You just love it when that happens, right? To use Caribou speak: it's not a problem, it's a challenge!
Screw that. My former employers were always a little too chipper.
The husband is being the diligent master of all things computer-y right
now and is trying to reconstruct Wee Bastard to where it was last
night. He says he's about 95% there, but some of my stuff has to go.
That's fine---he's picking and choosing stuff that I haven't used in a
while---like the BMW Film Player I had to download when I wanted to
watch all those "Driver" films. After all, one of them was
Frankenheimer's last piece of work. That was important in more ways
than just the obvious time killing ones. But it has to go. Sigh. That's
fine. I'll live without it, I'm sure.
This happens at least once a year. Wee Bastard, a Compaq Armada laptop,
is a great computer most of the time---ever since we put XP on it. It
hasn't really deserved its name since 2001, but before that...well, it
wasn't pleasant. You see, Wee Bastard is one of those laptops the
husband kept because the company he was consulting for had decided not
to pay him. It was originally purchased in Kuwait City. It came with an
Arabic/English keyboard and a bastardized Arabic Enabled version of
Windows 98, which sucked bullets. I'd be working in Word, typing away,
and all of a sudden, I'd look up and there would be a whole page full
of Arabic characters. This of course, says nothing about how freaking
unstable the thing was...it was constantly crashing, and more so than a
regular version of 98. So, really, I've been fighting my own war with
the Arabs for the past couple of years, only they've gotten to me in
sneaky ways.
Ah, the husband tells me that I need to vamoose from his
computer---Gandalf---and go back to my own. Sigh. Thank goodness. It's
up, but we have to do maintenence this weekend. Relief. I was really
afraid there. When your computer decides it would really rather don a
Che T-shirt and become a full fledged member of the Rebellion, thank
you ever so much---you begin to worry.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:50 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 425 words, total size 2 kb.

Don't you just love it

Don't you just love it when you turn on your computer in the morning
and it decides to tell you that it can't open your settings because there's some corrupted memory file and it would prefer to open up an entirely new user in XP?

You just love it when that happens, right? To use Caribou speak: it's not a problem, it's a challenge!
Screw that. My former employers were always a little too chipper.
The husband is being the diligent master of all things computer-y right
now and is trying to reconstruct Wee Bastard to where it was last
night. He says he's about 95% there, but some of my stuff has to go.
That's fine---he's picking and choosing stuff that I haven't used in a
while---like the BMW Film Player I had to download when I wanted to
watch all those "Driver" films. After all, one of them was
Frankenheimer's last piece of work. That was important in more ways
than just the obvious time killing ones. But it has to go. Sigh. That's
fine. I'll live without it, I'm sure.
This happens at least once a year. Wee Bastard, a Compaq Armada laptop,
is a great computer most of the time---ever since we put XP on it. It
hasn't really deserved its name since 2001, but before that...well, it
wasn't pleasant. You see, Wee Bastard is one of those laptops the
husband kept because the company he was consulting for had decided not
to pay him. It was originally purchased in Kuwait City. It came with an
Arabic/English keyboard and a bastardized Arabic Enabled version of
Windows 98, which sucked bullets. I'd be working in Word, typing away,
and all of a sudden, I'd look up and there would be a whole page full
of Arabic characters. This of course, says nothing about how freaking
unstable the thing was...it was constantly crashing, and more so than a
regular version of 98. So, really, I've been fighting my own war with
the Arabs for the past couple of years, only they've gotten to me in
sneaky ways.
Ah, the husband tells me that I need to vamoose from his
computer---Gandalf---and go back to my own. Sigh. Thank goodness. It's
up, but we have to do maintenence this weekend. Relief. I was really
afraid there. When your computer decides it would really rather don a
Che T-shirt and become a full fledged member of the Rebellion, thank
you ever so much---you begin to worry.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:50 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 425 words, total size 2 kb.

--- More Silly Germans! I

--- More Silly Germans!

I forsee a whole new set of hook-up questions being asked as a result of this survey.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:40 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 31 words, total size 1 kb.

--- More Silly Germans! I

--- More Silly Germans!

I forsee a whole new set of hook-up questions being asked as a result of this survey.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:40 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 31 words, total size 1 kb.

--- Silly Germans! BERLIN (Reuters)

--- Silly Germans!

BERLIN (Reuters) - The German government's plans to levy fines on companies that fail to hire trainees will also be
applied to legal German brothels, Der Spiegel news magazine reported Sunday.

Brothels failing to employ a certain number of apprentices will not be exempted from the financial penalties that
Chancellor Gerhard Schroeder's government wants to introduce on all companies later this year, the magazine said.

The legislation drafted by the Social Democrats and their Greens coalition partners will fine companies that do not have
one apprentice for every 15 workers.

I'm not touching this one with a ten foot pole.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:34 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 113 words, total size 1 kb.

--- Silly Germans! BERLIN (Reuters)

--- Silly Germans!

BERLIN (Reuters) - The German government's plans to levy fines on companies that fail to hire trainees will also be
applied to legal German brothels, Der Spiegel news magazine reported Sunday.

Brothels failing to employ a certain number of apprentices will not be exempted from the financial penalties that
Chancellor Gerhard Schroeder's government wants to introduce on all companies later this year, the magazine said.

The legislation drafted by the Social Democrats and their Greens coalition partners will fine companies that do not have
one apprentice for every 15 workers.

I'm not touching this one with a ten foot pole.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:34 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 113 words, total size 1 kb.

--- Ah, Hippie Hollow. My

--- Ah, Hippie Hollow.
My sister and brother and their respective families live on Lake
Travis, so I'm pretty familiar with the area they're talking about.
I've been visiting Travis since I was ten years old and ultimately it's
where I would like to spend the rest of my days. It's gorgeous there.
(If you'd like to see what some of the area looks like, click here
and take a peek around. That's my sister and brother in law's company.)
Travis is a huge man made lake---it was created by damming off the
eastern branch of the Colorado river--- but because of the hilly
terrain in the area, there isn't a huge amount of beach area. In most
spots on Travis, you jump in and the bottom is sixty-five feet straight
down. You never touch. The terrain creates negative odds on there being
beaches at all, but Hippie Hollow is one of the few. So, not only is it
noteworthy to float by a beach on Travis, the fact one of the few is a
nudist beach makes it all the more interesting.
We've boated by Hippie Hollow, and I can testify that it is quite the
scene. Perhaps my nephew put it best when, at age five, he screamed, "MOMMY! MOMMY! Why is that man standing over there with his wiener hanging out?"

From the mouths of babes.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:24 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 239 words, total size 1 kb.

--- Ah, Hippie Hollow. My

--- Ah, Hippie Hollow.
My sister and brother and their respective families live on Lake
Travis, so I'm pretty familiar with the area they're talking about.
I've been visiting Travis since I was ten years old and ultimately it's
where I would like to spend the rest of my days. It's gorgeous there.
(If you'd like to see what some of the area looks like, click here
and take a peek around. That's my sister and brother in law's company.)
Travis is a huge man made lake---it was created by damming off the
eastern branch of the Colorado river--- but because of the hilly
terrain in the area, there isn't a huge amount of beach area. In most
spots on Travis, you jump in and the bottom is sixty-five feet straight
down. You never touch. The terrain creates negative odds on there being
beaches at all, but Hippie Hollow is one of the few. So, not only is it
noteworthy to float by a beach on Travis, the fact one of the few is a
nudist beach makes it all the more interesting.
We've boated by Hippie Hollow, and I can testify that it is quite the
scene. Perhaps my nephew put it best when, at age five, he screamed, "MOMMY! MOMMY! Why is that man standing over there with his wiener hanging out?"

From the mouths of babes.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:24 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 239 words, total size 1 kb.