Month: August 2006

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Game one in the books

Well, game one of the back-to-being-single era is done. Boise State won big, which was good. But I would be completely lying if I said I wasn’t a little sad. I’ve told everyone a thousand times (and written it here) just how much I loved tailgating. Frankly, I really do miss it. While the game is going, it is easy to be distracted and enjoy it. But as I was walking to the stadium (and walking back to my car after), I was bummed out. I knew football season would be hard, so I was expecting it, but that doesn’t make it fun.

I had a thought, I guess I kinda equate tailgating to my form of camping. I enjoyed everything about it. From cooking the day before, to loading up the car. Setting up when you get there and tearing down when you leave. I looked at none of it as a hassle. I like to think I brought something to the table with those events, but now I can’t be sure. Who knows. Maybe I was just a pain all the way around.

I do kinda wish my seats were somewhere else. I’m directly across the stadium from where I used, and they still all sit. As much as I didn’t want too, I did take a peek at them occasionally. Even if it was from 80 yards away through binoculars. I would also be lying if I said I didn’t miss all of them. Even her. Especially her, I guess I should say. Those were just some really good times. And to have it all gone in the blink of an eye is still tough to deal with. I frankly think that home football games will be harder than the actual impending holidays. Just hard to describe.

And yes, as I entered the stadium, I did glance over at the tailgate spot. Granted, I was a ways away, but it looked like business as usual. Not sure what I expected it to look like, but still… Of course, my mind was working on ways to fix my situation and unfortunately, there aren’t many options. Unless I meet some people who are already doing it up, I won’t be able to put something together myself. Even if I could get a parking pass in the stadium, it would be a paltry knockoff. I guess I’ll just have to live with the disappointment for a while.

It was nice to sit with family. I do enjoy them. But its just not the same as sitting with your wife. I guess thats the bottom line. Perhaps the football deal is just a symptom of the actual problem. Walking back to the car alone just sort of drove that home.
Oh well… onward and upward I suppose…

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Game day is HERE

I’m giddy. I woke up this morning a full hour before my alarm went off. It feels like Christmas. The countdown clock is winding down. 0 weeks, 0 days, 10 hours, 12 minutes, 34 seconds until kick off.

Click here to feel the love

Fight Broncos, celebrate the orange and blue
Boise will stand up and cheer for BSU!
Fight for distinction and our Alma Mater
Bravely defending BSU!
Fight on courageously for Boise State
Success and honor make her great!
Boise’s proud tradition
Heads-up competition
Glory to BSU!

Go Orange, Go Big Blue, Fight! Fight! BSU!

I’ve often wondered if when you get to heaven you will get statistics on your life. How many miles you walked, what meal you had the most often, etc. etc. In that vein, I’ve wondered what song I’ve heard the most times in my life. More than likely for most people it would be something boring and mundane like ‘Happy Birthday’, or if they’re big sports fans, maybe the Star Spangled Banner. I can guarantee what my song will be. It’s the BSU Fight Song. Doing some rough math, I haven’t missed a home football game in 14 years, so say 6 per year is 84 games. I usually am able to catch at least one road game so we’ll call that an even 100. Before that, I went to a bunch of games as a kid, say another 50. 150 Boise State football games, the song had to have been played by the band at least 20 times a game, which is probably a conservative number. That’s 3000 times. Not to mention the hundreds of BSU Basketball games, the parades, the on campus events, hell, even the NCAA College Football video game plays the song (my team is obviously Boise State) on an endless loop. Given all that, I have to figure I’ve easily topped 10,000 times I’ve heard that tune. Probably more. And I’m only 32. In fact, I’ve listened to it another dozen times since I’ve been writing this. If I’m lucky, by the time I finally kick off, I may have heard the song 50,000? 70,000? Who knows. Just put me in an orange and blue coffin and call it a day.

All this week, I have been wearing a different orange shirt to get ramped up. How many people in my office noticed? Zero. But dammit, I didn’t do this for others. I did it for me, and my team. Boise State football is my only true love in life. Other fans may have multiple teams that they love. One in each sport. But growing up in Idaho, isolated from all other pro and college sports, there was one game in town. I have ‘sports monogamy’ to the nth degree. I love sports, but simply do not have a favorite team in each one to root for. I might need a ruling on if that makes me less of a sports fan or not. I just say I’m a product of my environment. For me, the world stops when Boise State is playing.

This year is different. I’m moving on in life and that includes my gameday experience. See, the ex-laws always did a big tailgate, that grew exponentially when I was there. The first year was low key, but by the time last year rolled around, it was a serious deal. For me, those 6 days a year WERE better than Christmas. We would spend all day in the parking lot tailgating. We would get there at 9am for a 6pm kickoff. I love the atmosphere. The friends. The food. The beer. Capped off by the game (plus the fact that we are 45-2 at home since 1999) then more beer and food postgame… just an unbelieveable experience.

But, now I’m on my own to figure out how to get the most of the gameday. I’m disappointed the be on the outs now, but goddamnit, I’m not going to let it ruin Boise State Football for me. So, maybe now I’ll get to see a few more national games on TV. Maybe I’ll find some other friends to tailgate with. Who knows. But I do know one thing. I love Boise State football more than anything else. Bottom line.

And for me, that makes today VERY special.

Go Broncos.

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Lost Weekend

Well, the big weekend is over and I’m finally getting back to normal. It was quite a ride. Here’s a rundown of how things went.

Thursday. John arrives in town (a couple hours late due to weather problems) and we immediately head to Round Table Pizza. He said he was craving that like a mofo since there isn’t a RTP within 2000 miles of his house. Somehow, I don’t think that is in their delivery area… A couple of people from the corporate office of his (that’s here) met us at the pizza joint in Eagle. So, we sat around, shot the shit and he piled away half a large pizza. After a couple hours, his plan was to spend the evening with his brother and family, so I was free for the evening.

Friday morning, we met on the golf course (Ridgecrest) at 7am. Man, that was early. I wasn’t expecting much, since I had golfed exactly 13 holes since last September. It was just good to hang out with John and talk trash to each other, even though he can kick my ass up and down the course. Remarkably, I didn’t lose a ball until the 12th hole. Thats when the wheels started coming off. I think I started to get tired. Which is ironic since I’m in better shape now than I have been in years, but I’m not in golf shape. Those twisting muscles weren’t working by the end of the round.

John had to go into the office after golf for an hour or so, so I just hung out waiting for him to come back. On his way to my apartment, he called and asked if I had eaten anything. When I said no, he said he would bring some food. Cool. What does he show up with? 2 more large pepperoni Round Table pizzas. Hell, I love pizza. We go to work on it. After, we blew out to go see the new Cabella’s Store that has opened in Boise. That place is pretty impressive. I’m not even much of an outdoor guy anymore but it was still pretty cool. We then jetted to the mall so he could stop by the Blue and Orange Store (Boise State gear) to get hats and shirts and whatnot for his family back home. Upon getting the proper equipment, we headed to the movie.

We saw ‘Invincible’ staring Mark Wahlberg as Vince Papale, a Philly native who walked on and made the Eagles in 76. Good movie. Not quite as inspiring as ‘Rudy’ but not much is. Still, very enjoyable.

After the movie, we had plans to hit a poker party put together by all of his co-workers here. This was a good time. We played Guts, which is a very simple game. Everyone at the table anties and gets 2 cards. You go around the table and everyone just says if they’re in (playing) or out (folding). Best 2 card hand wins, poker values. High pairs best. The catch is, if more than one person stays in, the losers must match the pot. So, if 7 guys antie 2 bucks, there is $14 in the pot. 3 people stay in, one guy wins that $14, and the other two match, meaning there is now $28 in the pot. As you can imagine, the pots can get pretty big. I won on like the 4th or 5th hand with a pair of queens (the 3rd highest hand you can have). Won a nice stack of chips. I also won again later when we were playing ‘Low’, meaning the opposite of ‘High’. In that case, a pair is bad and a 2-3 is good. I won there with a 4-3 (which is the 4th lowest hand you could have.) I was quite lucky that night. Except of course for the 9 or 10 beers I had. That wasn’t so lucky. More like stupid. As the end of the evening became a blur, John hoisted me up and got me home, and poured me into bed.

We had a scheduled tee time of 8:30 Saturday morning, but there was no way I was going to make that. I slept until 11:30. When I finally awoke, I found $60 more in my pocket than I had when I started the evening. That’s a positive. Of course, I paid for that cash the hard way with the way I was feeling. Woo… hadn’t done that in a long time. I might have gotten a little carried away.

When John got done golfing, he came by the apartment to kill some time before he had his family BBQ to attend. Let’s see if you can guess what he brought with him… If you said Round Table Pizza, you would be correct! At this point, even the pizza-freak I am started to wilt a bit. On the plus side, however, he pulls a hundred dollar bill from his wallet and hands it to me. The rest of my winnings from the previous night. Now THAT’S what I’m talkin about! After some more pizza, he was off to spend some time with his family, and I was back to lounging on the couch.

He returned that evening after, and we just hung around, watched a movie and chilled. We had grand plans for going out again that night, but neither of us really felt up for it. Plus, we had yet another tee time at 8 on Sunday morning.

Kinda strange how good golf sounds when you’re making the tee times, but when it rolls around, you don’t think it sounds near as fun as it did. That was the case Sunday morning. Nobody played worth a damn. John added at least 25 strokes from his Thursday score, and I lost at least a dozen balls. Neither of us exacty were Tiger here.

But, Sunday evening was the whole point of the weekend. The party my folks threw in my honor. As mom called it at the time, my ‘coming out’ party. Whoa mom… ease up there… I’m divorced… not ‘coming out’ of anything. Luckily, she didn’t put that on the invitations. It was a good time. Lots of friends and family there. Plus, we were toddler-heavy there which kept everyone distracted. It wasn’t exactly Mitch-a-pa-looza from ‘Old School’, but it was fun. George was wondering if perhaps my folks had some nice 26 year old catholic girl waiting for me, but no joy. There were no ladies for me. Way to drop the ball, everyone. Sheesh.

Following the successful weekend, John had to be at the rental car joint at 6am on monday morning. So, he had me set my alarm for 4:30 for him to get up and get ready. I gotta tell you, he is such a woman getting ready in the morning. If I had to leave the apartment at 5:30am? I’m getting out of bed at 5:15am. Bing bang boom, out the door. So, since I was awake after he left, I just decided to go to work. Spent the day with my eyes half closed, still sluggish from all the pizza. When I got home that afternoon, I napped for 3 straight hours, and I’m not a nap guy. But, it was necessary.

I’m still readjusting to normal life. Its a good thing he didn’t stay longer. John, I love you man, but if you were here for a full week, I think I would have slipped into a coma.

More later…

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Magic Refrigerator

When I got my apartment, I was really only concerned with getting in as soon as possible, and living close to where I work. I live a 4 minute drive from my office (or a 20 minute walk from my door to my desk) and I was able to move in in less than a week.

Though I was really not keen to be back into an apartment again, the situation was dictated to me. Frankly, I really lucked into my situation here, although I was unaware of it at the time. I have many advantages here. First, my apartment is on the third floor, which means that there is no one above me stomping around. Second, my apartment is on the far north east corner of the building, meaning that I only have a neighbor on one wall, and I don’t get any sun directly heating my apartment to sauna like proportions every afternoon. Plus, I’m on the far back side of the complex, which means if you look out every window I have, you don’t see any other apartment buildings. So, I can almost imagine looking out over the tree filled corporate parks behind me that I’m in a high priced condo or something.

I also lucked out with the parking situation. Any of you who have lived in a large complex knows that parking is always a pain in the ass. In this place, each apartment gets one covered parking spot. Pretty standard. However, my spot is directly at the bottom of the stairs to my apartment. I didn’t realize how good that was until I saw my neighbor leave his apartment the other day, and have to walk clear across the parking lot to his assigned place (about 60 yards away). I guess its not a huge deal, but when you’re lugging bags of groceries or something, its nice to park close.

However, the most amazing and perplexing ‘feature’ of this apartment is my apparently magic fridge. Let me explain. I am obviously a re-newly formed bachelor. Yes, I do fall into some of the stereotypes. I admit it.

Long time readers might remember my early eating/cooking adventures after the bomb was dropped. The first meal I cooked was 5 weeks after I moved in, I whipped up some tacos to celebrate Cinco de Mayo. Well, I had all the fixin’s. Meat, lettuce, shredded cheese, refried beans, tomatoes, salsa, etc etc. I think you can see where I’m going here. The cheese and beans have remained in the fridge since that very day. Unused. Uneaten. Not even looked at. Needless to say, when you only have beer, pepsi and ketchup, you aren’t hurting for extra fridge space. So, they just hung out. I finally did something about them this past week, nearly 4 whole months later. Normally, these things should have sprouted legs and made a break for it long ago. However, something magic happened. The cheese, I bought one of those pre-shredded bags of ‘mexican’ cheese with the zip close top. When I pulled it out, it looked as fresh as new. Not one speck of green anywhere in there. If you were to put it back on the shelf, you couldn’t tell the difference. I was astounded. You would think it was never opened. Of course, I still threw it away. I wasn’t taking any chances.

Perhaps even more astounding was the refried beans. They were in a pyrex bowl with plastic wrap over them. Not exactly hermetically sealed or anything. As they literally ‘chilled’ pressed to the back of the fridge for about 110 days, I figured the mold would eventually blast through the plastic wrap like the eruption of Mt. St. Helens. But, it never came. I pulled it out and except for some slight discoloring of the surface, again, not a hint of mold. Astounding. Granted, these beans certainly do not look like new and I definitely wouldn’t eat them. But still…

The only answer is that the fridge is magic. A bachelor’s dream. Throw stuff into it, and forget about it. Instead of forcing one to remain ever vigilant against the insidious spread of noxious fungus, you can continue to go in for beers and gleefully let things sit for months on end. Perhaps I’ll only have to clean it out come spring. This is really making me want to try some experiments. Although, now that I’m in the dating pool again, that might not be the best idea. Something like that might be tough to explain away.

So, next time you’re pulling that 6 day old mold encrusted leftover from your fridge, think about me. Footloose and fancy free. Storing perishable food with no concern of spoilage. Of course, the real danger here is that I will forget just how long something has been in there and mistakenly eat it. When that happens, I’ll probably freak out as the walls burst into showers of pink elephants chewing on my toes, that for some reason have the faces of the Brady Bunch on them.

See ya in the emergency room.

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Black Wind – Clive Cussler

Black Wind – Clive Cussler

In my series of book reviews (aka bitching about what makes me crazy in the books I read) up next is a book called Black Wind by Clive Cussler. If you plan to read this book, don’t read this review. Just saying.

I have never read a Cussler book. Before I started, I sought out a few opinions from friends and family and pretty much always got the same response. “Dirk Pitt is a superman who always has a wisecrack after beating the current foe”. Ok, I thought, I could live with that. I’ve read books like that before. More on this in a minute.

Here is the paperback synopsis:

In the waning days of World War II, the Japanese tried a last desperate measure — sending two submarines to the United states armed with a new biological virus. Neither sub made it to the designated target. But that does not mean that they were lost. Someone knows where the subs might be, and has an extraordinary plan for the virus — a scheme that could reshape the world as we know it. All that stands in the way are three people: a marine biologist named Summer, a marine engineer named Dirk, and their father, Dirk Pitt, the new head of NUMA. Pitt has faced devastating enemies before, and has even teamed up with his children to track them down. But never before has he looked upon the face of pure evil… until now.

Ok… sounds pretty exciting, I thought. Which was why I bought the book.

Going in, not having read any of the other “Dirk Pitt” novels, I don’t have any history with him or his kids. I’m only going by what is in this book. Apparently, “marine engineers” are not what I thought they were. I kind of picture a guy with a weathered face, an anchor tattoo and clothes that smell like motor oil and fish. Obviously, I’m way behind the times. This guy, Dirk Junior, is so much more. We first meet him as he is piloting a helicopter that is shot down, which he survives without a scratch. This was to be only the first of many such escapes. Later, he identifies a ‘tail’ of two bad guys, then proceeds to out drive the two assassins while they are peppering his car with automatic gun fire (who both die in the resulting crash). He also can drive any submersible craft in existence (demonstrated multiple times). I’m getting ahead of myself here. That was only the first 200 pages of this 600 page book.

Let me give you a more detailed synopsis. Basically an obscenely rich South Korean business owner, who is really a North Korean agent, is hatching this plan. His plan is to simultaneously turn the South Korean peoples’ opinion against the US forces, attack the US with biological WMD’s, framing Japan for said attacks, all in an effort to get Korea to vote out the US military to allow the North to sweep in and reunite the country, counting on the US being too distracted by the millions of deaths from small pox to respond. Pretty simple, right? So, Kang, the evil mastermind behind it all, has some diplomats killed in Japan. Frames a US Serviceman for a rape/murder in Seoul, and exerts influence on a bunch of South Korean politicians he has in his pocket. Of course, no one knows he is a North Korean Agent. The ball is in motion.

His plan hinges on recovering these biological agents from the sunken submarines. Long story short, he gets them. With the Pitts right on his tail. Dirk and Summer are actually recovering the virus bombs from the second submarine when their research ship is attacked by the bad guys. Bad guys take Dirk and Summer hostage and seal the rest of the crew in a hold and sink the ship before leaving. (of course, the crew escapes a the last second thanks to Dirk) Dirk and Summer get taken back to Kang’s cliff side lair on the Han river outside of Seoul.

Up until this point, the book is fairly decent. The only thing that made me cringe was a scene when Dirk goes to visit a professor friend of his looking for research information on the Japanese biological efforts in WWII. Well, according to the book, this professor has developed something that is simply amazing to anyone who understands computers, programming and the like:

… Max was an artificial intelligence system with a virtual interface in the form of a holographic image. The brainchild of Yeager to aid in researching voluminous databases, he had cleverly modeled the visual interfaces after his wife, Elsie, adding a sensual voice and saucy personality. On a platform opposite the horseshoe console, and attractive woman with auburn hair and topaz eyes suddenly appeared. She was dressed in a skimpy halter top that revealed her navel and a very short leather skirt.
“Good Morning Gentlemen,” the three dimensional image murmured.
“Hi Max. You remember the younger Dirk Pitt?”
“Of course. Nice to see you again, Dirk.”
“You’re looking good, Max.”
“I’d look better if Hiram would stop dressing me in Britney Spears outfits,” she replied with distain, rolling her hands down her body.

Good god. Now this book was set in 2007. I’m no authority, but artificial intelligence still can only do what it is programmed to do. The amount of programming and processing power to simulate a personality, voice, face (and gender) recognition, generate a 3d holographic image (detailed enough to have “topaz eyes”), spew pop culture references, and search thousands of public and private databases would be unbelievably immense. If the book was set in 2017? Maybe. Now? No way in hell. Not only can it speak, it can search all of these databases, then instantly summarize all of that data and speak the results to you like you would expect a teacher to do who just read a encyclopedia entry. Simply put, this technology does not exist. To think that a single guy put this together by 2007 is laughable. I actually had to go back and check when this book was set, and make sure I read that this was a virtual person. I did laugh out loud when I read it. But I digress.

Upon reaching Kang’s compound, they have dinner with their host. Here comes the exceedingly obvious James-Bond-villain-explains-the-whole-plot-to-the-heroes-because-he-plans-to-kill-them-anyway scene. In this case, he plans to drown them as the tide comes in by chaining them to a concrete block. All I’m thinking while reading this scene is Austin Powers…

Dr. Evil: Scott, I want you to meet daddy’s nemesis, Austin Powers
Scott Evil: What? Are you feeding him? Why don’t you just kill him?
Dr. Evil: I have an even better idea. I’m going to place him in an easily escapable situation involving an overly elaborate and exotic death.
…
Dr. Evil: All right guard, begin the unnecessarily slow-moving dipping mechanism.
[guard starts dipping mechanism]
Dr. Evil: Close the tank!
Scott Evil: Wait, aren’t you even going to watch them? They could get away!
Dr. Evil: No no no, I’m going to leave them alone and not actually witness them dying, I’m just gonna assume it all went to plan. What?
Scott Evil: I have a gun, in my room, you give me five seconds, I’ll get it, I’ll come back down here, BOOM, I’ll blow their brains out!
Dr. Evil: Scott, you just don’t get it, do ya? You don’t.

Anyway, being marine type people they can hold their breaths and swim like champions, so they escape the rising tide with the help of a small metal nail file to saw through the iron shackles. All in the nick of time, of course. That was handy.

As they’re swimming across this 5 mile wide river at night being chased by Dr. Evil… er… I mean Kang’s henchmen in a speedboat, they are picked up by a sloop that his puttering along the river. In the most ego-centric move I have ever run across in a book, the character that rescues them is named… “Clive Cussler”. That’s right. He put HIMSELF in the book! Unbelievable. He even described himself with “blue-green eyes, which seemed to twinkle with mischief…” Give me a break. If the Austin Powers routine wasn’t enough, this maneuver completely destroyed any faith I had left in the story.

So, they escape and make it back to Washington DC and fully brief the government on what they’ve learned. Not only have the bad guys recovered the virus from the submarines, they have in less than a few weeks, completely re-engineered it to be immune to current small pox vaccines AND added HIV into it which will kill all of the people who survive the small pox. Amazingly efficient, this evil organization is. Especially with nobody the wiser.

Upon learning that someone is specifically planning on launching some sort of biological attack that will kill millions upon MILLIONS and essentially destroy our entire civilization, what do they do? Send a few coast guard cutters and a blimp to protect the entire western seaboard. Pitifully small response, you’re thinking? Gee… so was I. But if there were war ships and aircraft and thousands of sailors and marines guarding us, how could the Pitts be the heroes?

All that came to my mind right here is this… why wouldn’t the President simply issue a statement to the world saying they have credible evidence of an impending biological attack against the US. All he would have to say is if there is a single case of small pox anywhere on US soil, we are immediately launching a nuclear strike against Pyongyang (N. Korea capitol). See, that is the thing. When a state is sponsoring such actions, you know where to find them! This isn’t bin Laden in the middle of the desert. I guarantee, this would put a crimp in their plans. Perhaps they think twice about launching such a strike. Game over. End of story. Drive home safely. I guess I have read too many of these books. Besides, I think I should mention that this plan is WAY overkill for what they are trying to accomplish. I mean, the KISS rule (keep it simple, stupid) has never been violated more flagrantly.

Again, long story short, the bad guys hijack a sea based satellite launching platform and sail it just off Santa Nicolas island, 75 miles west of LA. The platform is spotted by the blimp (flown by Dirk Sr. of course) and when they check with the company that owns it, they learn that the platform is supposed to be on the equator for launch. Platform is approached by a coast guard ship which is promptly blown out of the water with a surface to surface missile. What is our response upon learning that they are obviously going to use a giant rocket to deliver the virus and launch is in an hour and a half (thanks to the clichéd big red digital readout countdown), you ask? Let me tell you… NOTHING. The entire might of the US military decides to leave it up to the Dirks armed only with a small research submarine and a blimp to save the day. You might be aware of the fact that within a short flight of this position there are Vandenberg, Los Angeles and Edwards Air Force Bases, not to mention El Centro and Point Magu Naval Air Stations, and of course, Miramar (aka Top Gun) Naval Air Station. All told, there are probably some 500 military aircraft within 200 miles, not to mention all the navy bases with ships armed with long range cruise missiles. Also, a quick google search tells me that San Nicolas island is also used by the military and is practically bristling with search radars and missile installations. How many planes or missiles do we launch to protect the motherland from this obvious and insidious threat? Zero.

Dirk the marine engineer, who at this point has survived being shot down in a helicopter, shot at during a road race (jumping the car and landing on a ferry), trapped at the bottom of the sea in a submersible, and escaped the rising tide by a nail file, makes his way onto the platform. Bad guys were still on the platform and capture him YET AGAIN. Do they kill him? Nah… see above. They decide to tie him to the supports that are under the rocket and let the exhaust do the dirty work. Can someone please explain to me why the villains are prepared to kill millions of people indiscriminately, yet can’t see fit to put a bullet in this guys head who has caused them so much of a headache?

So, upon being left alone again, the blimp being flown by his dad, lands and rescues him yet again, and rescues the rest of the crew. Dirk Sr. then goes down to the submarine still tied to the platform and uses the handy drilling mechanism on the front to drill holes and flood the supports of the platform. He is able to flood it enough that when the launch happens, the rocket is out of balance and blows up, saving the day. Exciting? Sure. Realistic? Hardly.

But it doesn’t end there! The US finally decides to take action, and sends the navy seals against Kang’s compound. And, since the US government is completely batshit crazy at this point, they let the marine engineer tag long with the seal team on the strike. Oh, but they won’t allow him to have a gun because he is a civilian. I’ll save you the ludicrous details, but the seals essentially owe the success of the mission to, you guessed it, the only unqualified member of the force. I’m sure the seals must be proud to read this book.

I know I wrote a little too much about this book. But when something makes you as crazy as this made me, I just had to vent about it. I didn’t even mention all of the smart-ass quips that Dirk comes up with in the heat of the moment. At this point, I’m just happy I finished the entire book. And now I know, I don’t ever have to read another Cussler book again.

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Hey you… say hello!

Interesting occurance. I like to peruse my stats for my little blog here often. You can see them if you click on ‘view my stats’ at the bottom of this page. I’ve always really enjoyed stats… wait… I’ve always really enjoyed little bits of information. Stats, as in the college level business math courses, I NEVER enjoyed. As evidenced by the 2 times I had to take both stats 1 and 2. So, I like to know about things.

This morning, I see that there was a google search for me from an IP address in Stamford Connecticut. I don’t think I know anyone in Stamford Connecticut. Someone searched “jason haberman blog boise”. Now, I’ve had other searches for “jason haberman” but never got too excited about those. Apparently, according to google there are many jason habermans out there, which I find quite interesting since I have never met a Haberman that I wasn’t related to, let alone another Jason. Apparently, one is a neuroscientist at UC Davis, one a violinist at Colgate, one plays foosball in California. I just sit on my computer in Idaho. (wouldn’t it be weird if one of them looked exactly like me? Spooky… ) Anyway, I realize that just because the IP originated in Stamford, that doesn’t necessarily mean the person was there as well. Ya see, this here internet isn’t a truck to dump things on. its a series of tubes. But, it is plainly obvious that whoever this was was specifically looking for me. I’m pretty sure there are no other Jason Habermans living in Boise who have a stupid ass blog going. I’ve cornered that market.

I guess what I’m saying is, say hi. If someone I might know has found me, drop me a line. Even if you just want to say hello. I can be hit at jason(at)jasonhaberman(dot)com. (Non clickable since all those damn spiders out there harvesting email addresses would find it and I would get a never ending stream of spam). I always like getting email that doesn’t consist of someone offering me cheap v1iagr@ or LOW LOW MORTGATE RATES. Or, you could always just leave a comment on the site.

So, if you know me, say hi. If you’d like to know me? Say hi. Enjoyed something you read here? Say so. Think I’m a gasseous windbag? I suppose you could tell me so, but just remember that I’m fragile.

On a side note, this is the second time I had to write this post. The first one was eaten by the internet gnomes. Damn shame too, since that one was far superior in every possible way. But, you’ll never know the genius that was that post, you just have to live with this poorly scribed knock off. Such is life.

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My goofball nephew

I had my sister, her husband and my nephew over Saturday evening. A nice little diversion. We had some pizza, hung out, just had a good time.

However, Zach, my nephew is a total nut. Specifically, he is a water freak. This was his favorite part of the evening. Sitting in the bathroom sink, faucet on, dunking his head in the water.

Apparently, according to my sister, this is the same kid who fights tooth and nail to not get his hair washed. Go figure. I told them they just need to throw some soap in the sink and let him go to town.

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Card

I got this funny card from some family friends. I don’t usually find greeting cards all that humorous, but this one made me laugh out loud.

Front: Hang in there… Sometimes life hand you lemons, but then you can make lemonade.

Inside: Of course, sometimes life pulls down your pants, runs a power sander across your naked butt, then pours lemon juice on your raw, abraded buttocks.

In that case, a cool citrus drink wouldn’t really help, but darn it… you’ve got to hang in there anyway!

Thanks Goydens. Very funny.

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Solo part Deux

I wrote about how I’m getting into doing things solo.Well, I’ve expanded on that lately. The past two days, I’ve gone to see 2 separate movies that I’ve wanted to see. Now, they were both mediocre, but that is beside the point.The point is I was out and about, mono-style.

Sunday, I woke up and was bored. I killed some time… watched some football (but its still preseason and sucks. Side note, watching 2 games now I can say, good lord the Raiders suck. Holy Cow. That is a 3 win team if I’ve ever seen one. They couldn’t even move the ball against 2nd string defenses. Brooks has completed 2 passes in the preseason. Good luck Raider fan… gonna be a loooong year.). I decide I would just take in a flick. So, I looked at the listings and decided I would catch Pirates of the Caribbean on the digital screen here in town. So, 2:00 rolls around and I motor out the house. A large drink and a small popcorn later, I’m taking in this so-so movie. Plot was kinda confusing. They might have been trying too hard. However, it was probably worth the matinée price of admission.

Then, Monday while at work, I decided I had a good time on Sunday, that I might as well do it again. So, I lined up to head directly from work to catch Miami Vice. It kinda sounds strange, but it was kinda liberating to be able to leave work and go to a movie. No checking in with anyone. No asking if anyone else wants to do it. Nothing. Just go. Mini review of the movie is this: it is ‘Miami Vice’ in name only. Little to nothing to do with the TV show other than the character names. The way they played it, neither Crockett (Farrell) or Tubbs (Foxx) had one ounce of personality. Especially Farrell. He could not have played that roll any more boringly. Tried way to hard to be ‘cool’, but mainly came off as bored. I remember Crockett being the wisecracking, womanizing cop who lived on a boat with his pet gator Elvis. None of that came through here. Not to mention, the movie has ZERO of the flash and style of Miami, which again was a major part of the show. You’re telling me you couldn’t work in one scene where Crockett is driving the Ferrari on deserted Miami freeways while some great music is playing? Really? Oh yeah, the music. Again, boring. I think the old theme perfectly set the tone for the show. The movie is a tuneless mess.

Alright, I’d better stop writing about it. The more I write, the less and less I like the movie. I’m glad I saw it, but don’t know if I’d recommend it.

Anyway, the point of this post is I’m still getting my ‘single’ on. Would I rather have someone on tap to do these things with? Absolutely. Am I gonna sit around and piss and moan about it? No. I’m through with that shit. If I stay single, well, then I stay single. Ain’t the end of the world. I believe I was single with nary a date from 1995 to 2000. (Full time work and full time school will do that to ya) Didn’t kill me. I just gotta learn how to do that all over again.

Onward and upward.

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Terrorism Ambivalence?

Reading the news today, I was just wondering something. Is it possible that as more and more terrorist incidents happen (or almost happen as the case may be) the less people will care?

Follow me on this one. We all agree that terrorism is a horrible abomination. No argument there. It is terrible and sad when people are killed by fanatics. However, reading about these recent arrests that were announced late last week and seeing what has happened since, I’ve noticed something.

On Friday, the stock market actually went UP. Granted, airline stocks got hammered, but overall, people weren’t all that worried (and if you don’t think where people put their money isn’t an indicator of how they feel, you’re crazy). Then, today I read that despite a “security threat level” of “severe” (whatever that means) in Europe, that European air traffic has rebounded to normal. Its been 4 days.

What I’m wondering is if the acts of terror will just sorta become ‘one of those things’. Not that killing people is ever just a non-event. I’m not saying that. What I’m saying is that they have already killed thousands upon thousands of people. They leveled 2 symbolistic buildings. Blown up trains and cars and whatnot. And, are obviously still attempting to do more. Yet, we are sort of paying little attention. Pretty much business as usual.

Maybe this is a good thing. I mean, the whole point of terrorism is to disrupt the larger society by commiting acts of violence. If those acts are diminishing in their impact, if we choose to not give the terrorist the ‘mind space’, don’t we win? Granted, this may push them to try bigger and bigger displays. But, I have to imagine that those are much more difficult and far more expensive to plan and execute than some jackoffs with box cutters.

I dunno… maybe I’m crazy. Maybe I’m just losing interest and failing to be as scared as I was in 2001. I do know that there is no way in hell another airplane in this country gets hijacked without every passenger going batshit and doing something about it. I guess thats why they’ve changed to just trying to blow planes up again.