Sanity Factory

I store things in piles, and I move things in boxes, I know how to bucket sort a data set and my files names are all comprised of the meta data concerning their content. Ultimately, categorization has been a friend and companion. So today, I lunch the newest category of blog entry here at the Sanity Factory. Shallow Waters will be used to collect all those little thoughts I need to jot down somewhere, but be warned they by definition lack depth.

This has special significance to me not only because it’s an entertaining cut from one of the best space movies ever shown on the silver screen, but because it has special workplace applicability.

“What’s a matter Colonel Sanders, chicken?”

Yep, it just keeps getting better and better. The economy in the crapper, sales down in all markets, and expansion of IT functionality is dictated by milestones that weren’t fully considered at their inception last fiscal year. We’re on our way to ludicrous speed.

“Bullshit, just stop this thing. I order you S-T-O-PPPPPPPP!”

While keeping track of Mr. RADAR I’m waiting to hear this. The other Space Balls near me are all wondering when this command is going to come down from above too I’d wager.

New favorite authors are required by immutable and unnamable natural laws to write in mediums that I can appreciate with all my favorite senses. I’ve been working my way through the codex of John Scalzi as time allows. Well, as time and the health of my eyes allow. I’d read more if there were enough eye drops around. I generally go to sleep with a book folded over my chest. Let me say that there’s been little that this man has written that I don’t like to push through my eye holes as fast as I can. Then when we’ve done it once I like to go back for a second slower, tender review even though I already know what’s going to happen to John Perry and his super interesting family.

Scalzi’s blog is both insightful and amusing. I read this regularly and as a result have even been known to wax quixotic about Ohio – a place I’m not in the least interested in spending much time in simply for its lack of soar-able mountains. Perhaps most importantly the man is able to maintain a constant supply of wit that tickles my funny bone.

So, as Halloween approaches I’m also reviewing movies, plays, music and other media that fits the festive nature of the holiday. Zombies being a particular favorite of mine, zombie movies are being played in the Netflix stream regularly. Today I broke out an old saw horse and began listening to an Audience Participation recording of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. If you haven’t been there don’t worry I won’t break your cherry. But then it occurred to me how well suited Scalzi is for a feat of intellectual and humorous information engineering as TRHPS was for its time.

• He has the subtle sense of timing that could make a story, rendered in this medium, not only possible, but successful
• Scalzi has a sublime ability to bring things down to the common man’s level making conceptualization a joy
• He’s already got a cult following on the internet. I’d show up just to watch him paste more bacon to a cat, but I’d drive cross country through snow storms to dress up and join in an APM written by him
• I suspect that there’s at least one musician in his global following who would be able and willing to put his words to music
• Add producer, a little investment money, and BAM! We’ve got cabaret à la Scalzi.

And if that wasn’t enough let me bait this stick with a carrot the size of Lake Superior. No one, not a single contemporary author anywhere roaming earth bound reaches of reality, is doing this right now. It’s better than bacon taped to a cat, better than a tall engineer dancing like a monkey, better even than a redaction of the ill-considered end to what should have been a much longer line of John Perry novels.

Some photos from this evening’s high country visit. I was able to get above snow line today in white out conditions. Really neat to see it happen. The ground was cold enough to accumulate the snow as soon as it started falling. Winter is well on its way.

So you don’t think I’m brave huh? You go find a drill, chuck a 9/32″ gold-alloy bit and proceed to drill eight, yes count ‘em out loud so everyone can hear you, holes in the hood of your vehicle.

Ponies not farting rainbows now, huh?

(Note: Ponies rarely actually ever fart rainbows, but you should watch just in case)

Anyway, I think it looks great (yea!), the Hi-Lift is out of the back of the rig (yea!), and I didn’t lose an inch of clearance (yea!)

I thought that the timeliness of the lyrics of one of my favorite bands of all time was limited to the Reagan years. Boy was I wrong. Or maybe we’re just reliving those years and the only thing that’s actually changed since then is my perspective on the whole affair.

STS-51-L had just disintegrated on its way through the upper atmosphere. Car bombs went off outside of police stations on several occasions. The Goldwater-Nichols Act was signed into existence increasing military spending nearly half the nation’s GNP. And, if I recall correctly, there was an “economic downturn” eroding the standard of living from the bottom up while fat cat execs walked away from the economic destruction pocketing record severance packages.

It also happens to be the same year that the band fIREHOSE release Rangin’ Full On which remains, as many things, a constant. Funny how things never really change.

Our kitchen isn’t a large one, it’s well laid out and both of us can work in it at the same time. That’s of course if one of us isn’t in the midst of filling or emptying the dishwasher. The door of the dishwasher, when open, leaves exactly enough space for one set of feet. No more, no less.

Late Sunday afternoon, I’m making a tasty sandwich and Tess has conspired to empty the dishwasher while she cooks some noodles. There are actually twelve pairs of legs frequenting this now excptionally limited space of the kitchen (her’s, mine, and two sets for two dogs paying attention to ham sandwiches under construction).

I robbled, I admit it, I sounded just like the Hamburglar there for a moment. But I assure everyone involved it was in no particular direction. Just a generally robble with no target in particular.

This morning I got an early start and on my way down the road for this week’s unscheduled office visits I decided to stop and grab a cup of Joe from everyone’s favorite coffee dispensing establishment. I pulled into SBUX drive through and projected my feeble morning voice as much as was possible at 5:30 AM toward the microphone in the little monolith standing before the order board.

“Hello welcome to Starbucks, blah blah blah blah blah,” her sentence went on after the greeting, but I don’t want to know where I’m at I want coffee. Now, please.

“Grande drip with two raw sugars and skim milk please.” I order the same thing; every time, all the time. Drip does the job. It doesn’t cost a mound of cash. I shouldn’t delay or inconvenience my order or the waiting line of people behind me. It’s simple, fast, and easy to understand.

“Uh, I heard ‘Grande coffee with two raw sugars’ and what was that?” The mini dark green monolith retorted.

“Skim milk!” I shout with my head outside the window nearly French kissing the microphone.

“I’m sorry we don’t have ’skim milk’” the perturbed monolith responds. “Do you want two-percent, half-and-half, or fat-free?”

Admittedly, I am no great intellect. I posses only average faculties and talents which have been widely distributed throughout the human gene pool. I have noted however, that the three varieties of milk offered me in this exchange are descriptive of the milk fat content found in the very same pasteurized dairy products. By way of an induction concerning skim milk we can also conclude the following.

1. Skimming is the process whereby milk fats are removed from dairy products.
2. Half-and-half is a mixture of 50% milk fat and 50% milk proteins in solution.
3. Two-percent is a mixture of milk protein in solution containing only 2% by some measure of milk fat.
4. And fat-free is a dairy solution that has no fat. Thus the fat must have been skimmed away thereby making it fat-free.

Now I realize that this whole encounter is probably caused by my upbringing and the point of sale ordering menu provided by SBUX to its employees. I grew up calling it skim milk, that’s what it said on the side of the carton. Their menu is probably labeled “Fat-Free” or something like that.

Why does the monolith have to make me say “yes, I want fat-free”? Why does the box have to get snarky with me when all I want is a cup of Joe with some milk in it that won’t ultimately make my belly fold over my belt?

Perhaps I’ll drop coffee all together and drink tea, but now I’m wondering how that kind of order might get screw up.

“Grande green tea please”

“Do you want the tea in a bag in your cup or should I just dump it in your hand as you drive by? Say ‘monkeys’ for me.”

Finally, I found it! I ordered a set of these so I can get my lift mounted on the bumper and out of the cargo area of my 4Runner. Looking forward to their arrival as there’s been snow flurries in the pass already. Thinking about painting the lift nice and black to match the trim.