Incoherent Thoughts and other Hints of Insight

No Sleep For Me

2007-11-09T05:04:00.000-06:00

At the sound of the tone the time will be: 5:05am.

Crap. I've been awake since 3. This never happens. I can usually fall asleep within minutes and not stop until my f'in alarm wakes me up in the morning (no doubt I could sleep a few more hours longer). Not tonight. Nope. I fell asleep around 9:30 on my couch, woke up a half an hour later to relocate to my bed and only managed to squeak another four hours of sleep. I hate nights like this. It's going to be a long, tired Friday.

I seem to have a lot on my mind tonight. A matter of personal reflection. It was another one of those "what makes me me" moments that have always had a tendency to crawl in my head and grab hold of the part of my brain which prevents me from sleeping and enjoying myself in general. Knowing who I am shouldn't be this difficult. I know who I don't want to be and I know who I would like to be in the future, but defining the here and now is the most difficult thing I've ever tried to do.

I'm reading a book on improvisational theater right now. Given my background in engineering and NASA and all things non-artistic you'd think this was a grand departure from my normal endeavors. You'd be right (except for that improv class I took last year). It really is a fascinating book though, pointing out what tends to be the more obvious points in life that we overlook because of what we've been taught. Namely, spontaneity is one of the greatest talents we possess. Truth is, everyone possesses it. We just tend to suppress it because of social anxiety, the fear of looking stupid, or the belief that anything outside the norm is unacceptable. The outcome, of course, is just a bunch of boring people following the herd that we call adulthood. I know, it's not really that simple. People express themselves in a variety of ways and no one is a closed up as this theory would have us believe. Still, I think we all have in us at least a small touch of doubt when it comes to fully opening ourselves up to people. I know I'm certainly guilty of that and that's really where I'm trying to go to with all this. I know who I am. I've had just about 30 years to figure that out. I like who I am and although I've never doubted who I was as a person I have had to figure out what it was about myself that made my who I am. I know that may sound silly but in a world full of uniformity and conformity it hasn't been easy to figure out why I never stand in with the pack. Because of this, because of not knowing where I fit in with the world I've had a difficult time expressing myself in a manner that would make sense to anyone. In a world with a million voices, how do I make mine heard?

I have a bizarre mind. My attention span is like that of a four year old child until I hit a certain point, a level of concentration, and then the world around me ceases to exist. Anyone who has seen me work knows that I can become incredibly focused and determined (a little too much sometimes). And I love to work. That's not to mean that I like to be at work. Those are two different things. Going to work is a means of making a living. It helps that I enjoy what I'm doing but given the option of working for a living or just receiving a paycheck for no reason, I'd probably choose the latter. Life fascinates me, along with all the ideas and gadgets and mysteries and problems that come with it. I say that because I'm also fascinated by solutions and ingenuity. Everything can be broken down into a problem with symptoms and ultimately a solution. Some problems are just a little more complicated than others. Given enough time, however, nothing has proven to be unsolvable. I realize how engineering-ish that sounds but I believe it to be absolutely true. This, of course, gets me into a lot of trouble in terms of settling on any one particularly thing to do with myself. There are so many! I have the hardest time focusing my brain on any one. I want to do this. I want to do that. I want to learn this. I want to try that. I'm very proud of my inquisitiveness but, really, a lot of the time I'd be happy to be able to focus on one thing that made me happy and go with that. The side effect of this is restlessness. There's never time to relax because there's always something else to do. Something else to think about. Something else to solve!

I put up my wish list not too long ago. It's not difficult to realize that the "things" I want are not things at all, but obstacles I'd like to overcome and ideas I'd like to investigate. Material possessions dropped from my interests a long time ago. In themselves, they are useless. I love my camera not because of its hardware, but because of what I can create from it. I can't imagine living without my iPod, not because of the "cool" factor, but because of all the emotions it provides me through the music stored within it. Things are things and emotions are emotions and it's a tragedy when the two aren't separated.

What gets me into trouble is not a lack of determination but the fact that people aren't problems to be solved. I know how incredibly obvious that is but it's a paradigm that my brain doesn't readily admit. I ask a lot of questions but I like getting to the bottom of things. People have no "bottom". They are who they are. Getting to know someone is exactly that and shouldn't be used as a front to analyze their brains. I'm always looking to explain and, as a result, I can sometimes miss the person that I'm trying to connect with. It's something I'd like to change and improve upon. Perhaps if I thought of it as an obstacle to overcome, I could reason out the cause and come up with a solution. Or I could just shut my brain off and be. Not think. Just be.

Sounds like something to figure out to me.

Tight lipped

2007-11-08T21:08:00.000-06:00

The tongue is an amazing thing. For one, it's just a large, slimy exposed muscle stuck in our mouths. Possibly the least sexiest of all muscles it's arguably one of the most important. It helps us eat, talk, and a few other things that don't need to be mentioned though are guaranteed to make life more enjoyable. Sometimes it can be eloquent, other times bumbling, and sometimes when it's most needed it can be aggravatingly silent. Words need to be spoken in certain situations and when they are not, well, it can leave you kicking yourself. Hard. In the ass. Because you didn't say something you wanted to say. My fingers never seem to have that problem which makes me wonder where the disconnect is occurring.

I have never been good at talking about myself. I'm modest to a fault and I know my history, my story and I find it much more interesting to listen to other people tell me about themselves. Especially if they like talking about themselves (to a certain extent, at least). Despite the fact that I know the other person may be thinking the same thing I still have trouble opening myself up and sharing what is within me. It's something I'd like to change but in the interest of reality I'd be happy for the smallest advancement.

That's how it is. I wanted to write a little something and that's what came out. Go figure.

2007-11-02T00:16:00.001-05:00

For the past week I’ve been forced to trick my body into believing it should be awake at hours it has no desire to witness. As I hope everyone is aware, we are in the middle of the current space shuttle mission. We have Discovery (STS-120 for those of you keeping score) docked to the International Space Station so that a new module (code name: Harmony) can be delivered and installed. Things are not going so well which means the mission is actually getting media coverage. Go figure. I’ve been assigned to what has to be the most boring shift and I find myself working from 7:30pm to 4:30am, a time period which is half filled with the crew sleeping. The other half, well, varies from mind numbingly dull to somewhat interesting. Only 6 more days to go (out of a total of 13). I need a vacation.

The following is a list of things I want to do (or just want):
-Establish a RAID array on my computer to improve my back up system, which currently doesn’t exist. I’m not entirely sure what this means yet but I read about it in a magazine and I’m oddly intrigued.

-Beef up my home media system. That somewhat ties in with the first bullet. I want to figure out a way to improve the quality of media coming from my computer to my home entertainment system. I’m not going to think about this one too much yet. Part of this goal involves taking a large chunk of my CDs and ripping them onto my computer in a lossless format. I currently have them all my music in the lossy MP3s format (this includes music that did not come off a CD via iTunes or other undisclosed sources). Seeing how I really can’t hear the difference between MP3 and anything else, I’m not pushing this one too fast.

-Take an improve comedy course. This one is in the works. I’ve started attending shows at a tiny venue in mid-town Houston. Each show consists of three to four troupes of varying experience and skill. Some are a lot of fun to watch and others, well, let’s just say they’re earning valuable experience. The ring leader, the founder of the show, offers classes. I figure what’s the point of trying to be funny unless you can pay a lot of money to do it? Classes are supposed to start in the beginning of December. I’m looking forward to it.

-Become a master photographer. This will take time. It’ll start by the acquisition of a flash and a couple new lenses, along with learning more technique and getting more use out of my camera. I’m going through a creative dry spell though, having grown tired of simply taking landscape shots. I need to brainstorm and think of something else I can express through photography. This is a work in progress.

-Find a new job and get married. I’d say the former is more likely than the latter but since neither look like they’re going to happen any time soon, I’ll just bunch them together and call it a day.

Is this asking too much?

-Red Rocks Park, Denver, CO

An Idle Mind Does Wander

2007-10-12T21:21:00.000-05:00

It's been a not-so-great week. In fact, I'd say the past month or so has been a collection of peaks in a otherwise uneventful and monotonous life. If I was being honest with myself I'd admit that this has been going on for longer than a month. But I'm not being honest with myself because denial is always the easiest way of dealing with just about anything and I'm nothing if not easy. You know what I mean.

The highlight of the most recent past is my recent trip to Denver where I got to witness one of the most incredible things left to us in this world: Red Rocks Park. Right, and some great friends of mine got married also. In fact, two of my closest friends here in Houston and I had the honor of being part of the wedding. Someone has to park cars, right? Though were nice enough to let me be a groomsman and in an impromptu move on the Reverend's part I ended up holding a bucket of holy water for a good five minutes which I'm sure reverted back to plain tap water as soon as it touched my hands. I'm not saying I'm cursed but my relationship with God has had worse reception lately than my AT&T cellphone service. Actually, that's being nice about it but I'm not here to discuss my religious beliefs. I'll leave that for people holier than me with more desire to connect with an all powerful being. For now, I'll just wallow in my disbelief and wonder how any omnipotent being would allow the most watched sitcom on TV to star Charlie Sheen. I'm reading a book right now (which I'll save for another discussion) about God in general which raises a very good argument: despite the claim that God is all knowing and all powerful, it is logically flawed for the Almighty to actually be all knowing and all powerful. Discuss (and if you're curious as to why this "can't" be, ask me and I'll be happy to try to explain it).

The return from my trip to Denver was, to say the least, sorrowful. Not that anything particularly bad happened in Houston other than the fact that as soon as I stepped off the plane I was dismayed to realize that, in fact, my four day absence wasn't enough time for Houston to stop being a shit hole. Go figure. I've only been to Denver twice and I've loved it both times. That's not to say that I got that same gushy feeling of destiny like I did when I visited Boston for the first time in my adult life just prior to college graduation. But still, how can I not love a city that puts so much emphasis on conservation especially since everything surrounding the city (like the Rockies) begs you to not spend any actual time within the city? It's a city full of people who admire good health, good environment, and good beer. As a comparison, Houston's focus is on chicken fried steak, oil refineries, and Bud Light. As the Astros are used to hearing: strike three, you're out!

I've had my share of illnesses in my relatively short life, the most recent of which I won't bother going into since it really falls under the category of "chronic disease" and is none of your business. Unless I've already told you about it, then in that case, it is your business and I send my apologies for being so snippy (which is not a side effect of the disease and is only the result of me being confined to my apartment for the week...I'm getting to it). On Monday I left work at the normal time feeling like Death was taking up residence in my chest cavity. It was only until half way home (about 2.5 minutes into my 5 minute commute) where Death decided to finger that part of my brain that controls nausea like it was, well, something you'd finger because you like it. Never have I gotten sick so quickly (in recent memory) which, fortunately for me, had just about passed by morning though it's taken me all week to fully recover (almost there). I hate being sick because it confines me to my already too small apartment and it gives me a horrible, manic feeling, something I compare to being stuck in a really small and secluded dwelling, like a cabin, with a intense inner burning feeling, like a fever. Someone should come up with an expression for that...

Which brings me to today when I'm just about to crack because I realize how much I've been cramped up in my place and how secluded I've actually become and, surprise surprise, I really don't like that. It's a terrible feeling of loneliness that I would only wish upon my worst enemies. And Mitt Romney. I just don't like that guy. It all hit me while I was folding socks that had been sitting on my bedroom floor for at least a week and half, six of which had no apparent mate and would be forced to submit to a life of widowhood. As I'm wont to do while folding laundry, I started thinking of my upcoming annual review at work which, as we all know, if the ultimate test of worthiness is any corporate worker bee's life. Despite my high profile, super exciting job (sarcasm?) I too fit into this mold. What would my boss ask me? "So Dave, what do you think of your performance over this last year? What did you accomplish? What do you wish to accomplish over the next year? Blah blah blah blah blah...." It's the same questions every year though, admittedly, my answers have changed since I've been able to mature in my job since I began and I've experienced some great personal and professional growth. I'm grateful for that and I hope I've made that obvious in the past. However, I started wondering what I would say this year. Truth is, my position has just about run itself dry. On the large checklist of "things to do before I leave" there are only a handful of boxes that remain unchecked and an even smaller set that I know are even possible given the way my company and our contract work. What, then, is my incentive for continuing and what will I say to my boss when he asks me about my plans for the next year?

This really isn't a story about my annual review. I couldn't give a rat's ass about that because its role in my life is to determine if I get a raise of 3.2% or 3.4%. I'll survive either way. It's the bigger picture that gets me. I have no incentive to really exceed (other than that "personal satisfaction" garbage which is only great in the Land of Fairies and Lollipops...the corporate world has a way of minimizing the joy in it). In fact, the entire corporate structure is intended to keep the status quo and only allows for bouts of greatness in critical situations or when no one is really paying attention. What's so ironic about this is that so many of us trained for this, lived our lives in a manner that brought us to this very point, that we are prepared to doing nothing but great work and are stuck in a system which doesn't allow for it. I've always hated the question "what do you do?" because none of us should be defined by the work we do. Truth is, though, in an idea world what you do for work is what you love and is a large part of who you are. Ain't no shame in being defined that way. It's just criminal that too many of my peers, colleagues, and friends have inspirational creativity and intelligence and are not being given the tools or resources to take advantage of either.

I'm not asking for a world that rewards great work. I tend to believe that anything gained out of financial incentive is the work of an ulterior motive, however noble the creator may be. The accomplishments we make should be the result of nothing more than our desire to make the world better. We should break free from the desks that keep us from standing and be allowed to explorer. Each of us is capable of so much and if current conditions don't allow for the expansion our of minds then the only thing to do is change our current conditions. Life is not here for us to squander. Contentness is not good thing, for it makes us idle. We need to find our interests and run with them, failing or succeeding, it doesn't matter as long as we taste as much as we can before we no longer can.

It wasn't until I was folding that last set of socks, an overly worn set of argyle, that I realized all this talk of "we" and "us" should have been replaced with "I" and "me". I have no power over anyone else, just me. If I did, no one would wear socks with sandals and the word "desirement" would be outlawed. If I'm feeling like this then perhaps it is time for me to start making some changes. Leave Houston? In time; that trip is unavoidable. Baby steps, perhaps. Which direction those steps are in I have yet to determine but maybe, just maybe, it will be the curious mind that wanders. And that wouldn't be such a bad thing.

A balmy fall evening in my living room

2007-09-30T23:12:00.000-05:00

It's just about the beginning of October and the weather in Houston has finally transformed into that wonderful phase I like to call "the end of summer". Most places in this country have already gone through that transition but here in Houston we like to be different. Winter? Who needs it? Leave that snow for all the pansies up in the north that can't stand the heat. Unfortunately, I'm one of those pansies. Right now the Fall air has reached a comfortable temperature somewhere in the mid-70s. My apartment, on the other hand, is still hovering in the mid- to high-80s. "Why is that" you ask? It's for no better reason than my air conditioner broke. Good times.

This is a boring post. Thanks God no one reads this thing anymore. There's so much to write and a brilliant topic that popped into my head and silently slipped out my ear and is hanging around my apartment somewhere. As soon as I find it I'll be sure to throw it your way.

Still here

2007-09-23T22:52:00.000-05:00

Thinking a little these days. So much has happened in the past 7 months, I don't even know where to start. So much is going to happen in the next 7 months I don't know where to start. This is turning out to be one of those sleepless nights due to an overactive mind and despite an over-exhausted body.

Plus, I've delved into the world of Linux and it's totally kicking my ass. That's completely off topic but it's still a pain in my arse. Chew on that.,

Enough is enough

2007-02-07T06:32:00.000-06:00

As everyone knows, I work here at the Johnson Space Center at the southeastern reaches of the hot and humid city of Houston where the motto is, "I reckon' it sure is hot and humid outside". I'm not particular proud of this fact but it's something I've learned to live with over my three and a half years working here. It's not always where you are, but who you're with and working here at NASA means I've surrounded myself with some incredibly unique and incredible people. These are the people that make me proud of what we all do here, people whose intelligence is only outweighed by their heart and dedication. We work hard here, earn less than we're worth, and put up with interminable beauracracy because we have a passion for the space industry and an overwhelming desire to get our astronauts in space and to keep them healthy. Because, really, everything thing we do here, all the procedure writing and console support, is done with the goal of making our astronauts happy. We wouldn't be anything without them and this fact is not lost on them. Of the astronauts I've had the pleasure to meet and work with, not one of them is blind to the fact that we bust our butts for them and the appreciation we get from them because of this is second to none.

As I grew up, I always had a fascination with space (like many young children) and astronauts were surely up on a pedestal in my little world. I carried that reverance throughout my life, even bringing it with me the day I started working here. It wasn't until I finally got to start working with these astronauts that an incontrovertrible truth finally dawned on me: despite the aura of mystique that surrounds them, astronauts are only human. And, like any human, they sometimes make mistakes. I'm sure by now you've all heard about one of them and I'm just appalled by the media coverage this is getting.

NASA has numerous space probes travelling through the cosmos, a space shuttle launch every three months, and a space station that has been in continuous operation for 7 years. I rarely see a mention of any of these in the evening news. I've seen astronauts pull off amazing feats performing space walks and the only mention they get is an over-exaggerated headline of a 'toxic leak' which had little effect on anyone. Sadly, the most media exposure they get is when one of them has an emotional break down and gets involved in some rather unfortunate events. It's a tragedy, really, and I'd expect the media to jump on this one, but the extent and nature of the coverage has left me even more disgusted with the news than ever before.

Although I have not had the pleasure of working with Lisa Nowak, I know she is a highly respected member of the NASA community. Why she would take this course of action everyone is still trying to figure out and no doubt the answers will come slowly and, even then, the whole story will probably only be known by a small group of people. Despite the limited amount of information that is known at this point, the media outlets are overloading the airwaves and front pages with 'coverage', basically rehashing the limited known facts repeatedly, delving into her professional career, and interviewing neighbors who, as expected, have nothing to say other than they didn't see it coming. I've seen computer generated mapped routes between Houston and Orlando, news segments dubbed 'Space Oddity', repeated reference to the diapers she wore during the car ride (interesting fact: astronauts wear them during shuttle launches and spacewalks), and that demeaning mug shot. There have been psychological profiling, endless speculation, and *gasp* shock that an astronaut could do something like this. Yes, I admit it's strange. No, not strange, unfortunate and very sad. It's never easy to see a family member (we're all part of the NASA family around here, in a non-sappy way) go through something like this but it's almost as hard seeing her name get dragged through the mud without any shred of fact being released about the case.

No doubt drama like this occurs throughout the country on a daily basis. I rarely hear about it on the news. This case is different, of course, because it involved a fall from a pedestal. Same thing would have happened if a movie star tried to pull this off. I can accept that. What really pisses me off, and this is what it comes down to, is that the only time these brave people get recognized for anything is when they mess up, as all humans are bound to do. Looks like Letterman did a top ten list on how you know if an astronaut is trying to kill you. Funny? Maybe. Appropriate? Definitely not. Leave her alone. Please.

With all that's going on in this world I would hope that Americans have more vital issues to follow than this little soap opera scenario. But that's just American society, isn't it? Forget about the war, there's some good dirt on a semi-famous person. It's the same old story. Perhaps Lisa Nowak isn't the only person guilty of bad judgement.

Had Enough Yet?

2007-02-06T05:41:00.000-06:00

Alright. That last post hardly fulfilled my intention of filling you in on my life and all that's happened over the past four months. Sadly, it was probably the highpoint of that time period. To summarize, this is what I've been doing since October:
1) Returned to Houston from Germany
2) Flew to NY. Flew back to Houston. Saw the family in between.
3) Once again spent Christmas at work. Bah-humbug.
4) Started a Netflix subscription.
5) Flew to Denver. Flew back to Houston. Went to a conference and did some skiing in between.

My life sounds rather dull when I lay it out like this. I should also mention that I'm working the midnight shift this week and by brain is quietly shutting down as the night progresses. Those works of art you would normally expect in this blog, and a fresh posting full of mind-numbing insight, are conspicuously absent today. I'll get back to you on that one.

This is where I summarize the last four months of my life

2007-02-04T07:03:00.000-06:00

My hand swatted at the alarm clock in a feeble attempt to turn the damn thing off. The lack of NPR emanating from the speakers told me that my aim must have been pretty good despite the early hour and complete darkness. Nothing is worse than waking up in complete darkness, which is why I like to sleep with the blinds open. If there's any sunlight to sneak its way into my bedroom I'm going to make sure my door is open for it. My body felt tired and my head was full of that sleep-induced haze which requires minutes of unconsciousness to form but hours to totally clear away. It couldn't be morning already; my brain was still aching for some rest and comfort of my bed. The clock did say 6:00 A.M., didn't it? It must have, the alarm went off and I'm awake. I think. Regardless, I'm awake now which only means it's time to jump into the everyday routine of brushing my teeth and taking a shower, maybe throw in a shave if I have to look particularly clean that day. Getting out of bed wasn't easy, room temperature never being nearly as warm as it should be and the cold linoleum of the bathroom floor as inviting as a dead fish down the pants. I know it must be done but, really, something just doesn't feel right. It's as if time itself was playing some cruel practical joke on me and managed to freeze the world so I was the only thing animated, with no hope of actually getting to my destination. Even with my mouth full of toothpaste I couldn't shake the feeling that I was out of place, that someone was watching me from a one-way mirror and having a good laugh. With toothbrush dangling from my teeth I headed back into the bedroom, where my mortal enemy the alarm clock sat on my nightstand, within screaming distance of the indentation on my pillow where my head used to be. Eyes still have closed by the cobwebs of lethargy I tried to convince myself that the clock didn't actually read 12:30 A.M. If that was true then I had no earthly reason to be brushing my teeth or, for that matter, looking at clocks. How could a clock suddenly turn back six hours and could I possibly be the luckiest person alive, having discovered I still had a few hours to rest my bones? I wasn't convinced and the evidence was puzzling at best. My brain said morning, my clock said night; a classic case of man vs. machine though this time the former had an overwhelming desire to be on the losing end. There was only one way to settling this precarious situation: best two out of three. A quick romp into the living revealed a cell phone, and a small brightly glowing LCD screen which screamed out the time in all its neon glory. 12:30 A.M.! 12:30 A.M.? Why they hell am I brushing my teeth at this time of the night! I was seconds away from jumping in the shower. If I didn't bother checking I could have been halfway to work before I realized that my morning ritual was six hours premature. Most disturbing, though, is the thought that I must have, all in my sleep mind you, 'heard' my alarm, 'hit' the off button, 'looked' at the clock, and decided that it was time to wake up and get dressed. Not my greatest accomplishment ever but certainly not the worst given my past performances.

Teaser

2006-11-10T13:13:00.000-06:00

Coming soon: The Rube 2.0 - Soaring to new heights.

Thoughts of an American in Germany

2006-09-07T15:31:00.001-05:00

I’m sitting here in a Chinese Imbiss right next to my apartment, waiting for my food to be prepared. It’s cheap food but rather good. And the owner speaks English quite well. And Chinese. And German. That always amazes me. I wish I spoke more languages. English gets you pretty far, but there’s something to say about being able to say something in another country and blending in. I’ve decided that I want to learn a language and spend a year living somewhere whose primary means of communication is that language. I figure my best bet is Italy since I have the most experience with the language. It’s been a while but, as far as countries go, I could do worse.

The thing about foreign countries is that it’s real easy to get pissed off at them for not doing things your way. Why would anyone in the right mind yield to the car on their right when coming to an intersection, especially when you’re on the main road? You’re not turning, the other car is, yet you have to yield for them. We don’t do that in American, why would they want to do it that way in Germany? Why do I have to pay for a glass of water (more than a glass of beer) when I can get all the water I want for free in any restaurant back in the U.S.? Who the fuck came up with that idea?

But that’s the rub, isn’t it? That’s what makes them foreign, love it or hate it. If everyone did everything the same way across the globe, the tourism industry would take a nose dive. What’s interesting is that common sense has an accent. It's more or less the same where ever you go, but every region, every locale, every little town, has a slightly different way of looking at the world and suiting it to fit their way of life. That's why there will always be conflict in the world. Differences will exist and, as we all know, it's more fun to pick on the different kid. It's just a matter of human nature. Fortunately, for all of us, most people embrace the differences as oppposed to rejecting them. It's just more fun that way.

My train of thought has run out of steam. Had a late night last night due to conversations with a certain member of the female gender. I think she's upset that I never mention her here, so here you go Amira. You've now officiallly made it into the blog. Now everyone knows you exist. Congratulations:)

One that note, I shall bid you all a good night and happy dreams.

2006-09-04T15:18:00.000-05:00

The sun set over the spires of the Dom hours ago but my feet were still looking for their destination. Hard to find, really, in an unknown city with darken streets full of ridiculous looking cars, almost too small to be believable. All I wanted was a beer. No, not just a beer, a Koelsch beer. Disregard the fact that every block in this city has at least three bars that sell one particular label of the unique beverage. A centuries old tradition that has remained constant as the city has changed. The rules were set a long time ago and the beer has been set in its ways. Not a bad thing considering how delicious it is.

My last entry was month(s?) ago. Hard to believe how hard life has bitch slapped me when it comes to taking up my free time. Is ‘free time’ an oxymoron? It’s a simple matter of economic supply and demand. As demand increases, so do prices. It’s only those things that we really want (not need) that increase astronomically in price. Water is still incredibly inexpensive if you get it from your tap (I do). I can buy clothes second hand for virtually nothing (I don’t). These things exist in great abundance. So does time, yet nobody seems to have any. No, time isn’t free. If McDonalds could find a way to market it they’d make millions.

I’ve been living in Koln for over a week now, but it feels like my time has just begun. For a week I had my coworker Stephanie living with me. Or, rather, I was living with her. She had exhausted her six months in Koln and it was my turn to take over. Having lived her for some long (relatively speaking) she had absorbed a certain bit of knowledge about the city. Compared to me, she could have been a tour guide, and a tour guide she was during our overlap here, pouring an unending amount of information into my head which quickly got lost in a mire of jet lag and terminal bewilderment that only comes about when immersed in a city that doesn’t speak your language. She left on Saturday, leaving me on my own to fend for myself in a world of strange traffic laws and menu items.

I miss living in a city. Kind of.

I have had every opportunity to live in downtown Houston. Or midtown Houston. The only things holding me back are the commute and the money to rent an apartment there. And the subconscious knowledge that my location in Houston probably won’t make any different. No matter where I live, I still have to drive to get anywhere interesting. Not Boston. Not Koln. I have a car here. Rather, my company is renting a car for me to drive while I’m here. It’s a black VW Golf, but not what you’d expect in the States. A little larger. That’s not saying much in a European city where the largest car is could fit in the trunk of your average American SUV. That’s what I like about Europe. They refrain from being absolutely ridiculous though, in all fairness, it’s more out of practicality than anything. The streets and alleys just aren’t big enough to support a Ford Expedition. Or a Chevy Tahoe. Or a Cadillac Escalade. They’re forced to be sensible. It’s a nice change. These streets, they probably used to be grazing lanes for cattle and sheep and goats. Anything that could produce milk or meat or some other substance that could provide sustenance to a farmer. Kind of like Boston. Houston’s streets where meant for rolling oil barrels. I could get used to Koln.

The move to Boston wasn’t difficult, but it had been some time since I had to start my life over. Living in a big city was a first for me though I eventually teamed up with my fellow grad students to overcome the fact that none of us had any friends in the city. Friends by circumstance, really, but it got the job done. We were no longer lonely. Kind of. In retrospect, Houston was a cake walk compared to Boston. My coworkers have been amazing from the start and life in Houston has never been lonely. Now I’m in Koln. Briefly, of course, but still the source of a new beginning. Life is inherently lonely in a city that doesn’t know your name or your language, although it probably knows your name in its own language. That’s not to say that no one here speaks English. In fact, quite a large portion of the population here does to some extent. I just haven’t found any of them yet. Either that, or they get some kind of deranged pleasure out of watching me squirm my way ordering some pad thai. Whatever gets your rocks off.

I used to spend days at a time in Boston not saying a word to another human being. Wandering the streets, with camera in hand, I would do my best to blend, to walk among the walking, and become part of the city. If that didn’t work, I always had the life line of being able to open my mouth and communicate. Of breaking free and becoming a presence in the city. It’s a much different experience sitting at a café, listening to people speak, and not having any idea what they’re saying. Not a single word. Loneliness is unavoidable, a simple side effect of the situation. Uselessness is the much bigger problem. Not being able to communicate what you are thinking, that’s even worse.

I wouldn’t trade this for the world.

I’d give my left leg to be here with a friend. Make that an arm (I want to be able to walk). I’ve always been that kind of person, drawing excitement from those around me. I like exploring, but only if I get to share it with someone. You’ll see the pictures, some better than others, but it’s not really the same. You can find them at my photo website: www.alwaysgoodtimes.smugmug.com. I suggest you check out the Cologne, Germany area. No promises on quality yet as most of them have been taken with my brand spanking new point and shoot which has a rockin’ 6 megapixels but the quality, of course, of a point and shoot. Still, not too shabby. I think they’ll get more interesting once I get myself together and start traveling. It’s taking more effort than I expected, partially because I’m still so turned around from being in a new place.

Here are places I’d like to visit or been told to visit: Belgium, Berlin, Aachen, Portugal, Athens, Prague, Budapest, Istanbul, Morocco, Grenada, Frankfurt, Dusseldorf, Amsterdam, Brussels, Oslo, Copenhagen, various cities in Italy, and Paris. Those are the ones I can remember. The trick will be narrowing it down. I’m not used to being a world traveler. This should get interesting.

Who would have thought that, after this long break, my resurfacing would result in such an introspective entry. That’s not like me. Blame it on the Koelsch. Being here has obviously not affected my email status so please send me a note (in English) telling me how you’re doing. It’ll help me feel a little closer to home. Until next time, tscheuss!

Hypocrisy of the Week

2006-07-20T05:42:00.000-05:00

As everyone has by now heard, this country is going to shit because of the wild judicial decisions made by activist judges. At least, that's what our right-wing friends and their leader, Emperor Bush, would like us to believe. Although I haven't found an exact definition of what an activist judge is, Wikipedia's entry on this subject contains the following line: "a term used perforatively to describe rulings or decisions which are perceived to endorse or implement a particular social or political agenda".

Despite the fact that the whole Judicial Activism entry in Wikipedia is being contested as not being "neutral", I think the definition given is somewhat accurate. An activist judge is someone who basis his or her decision on personal opinion and motivation, not on Constitutional arguments. Not that I think judicial activism is as rampant in this country as some would have us believe. In fact, I think it's a diversion used by our 'leaders' who just don't agree with the fact that judges from all levels of our judicial system have found certain legislation unconstitutional. That's their job and if they rule as such then we're in the position to accept it or appeal it, not make false claims that those making these highly important decisions are biased. Perhaps that asking too much.

But let's go back to that definition again. A activist judge, in his or her simplest form, is someone who ignore Constitutional precedent to form an judicial opinion tainted with personal opinion and bias. It comes as no surprise, of course, that the person leading the way in this finger pointing is our fearless president. It seems strange to me that the issue of activist judges hasn't actually been a issue at all until this current presidency. Could it have anything to do with the questionable legislative practices of our resident Republican majority Congress? We'll let smarter people than myself make that judgement.

I propose a new term, maybe one that will take us to the end of Bush's second and final term: activist President. Is it possible to be an activist President? In other words, can a President choose a course of action based on personal opinion and not necessarily popular support nor overwhelming precedent or evidence? Of course. It happens all the time, though some President's decisions have more impact than others. Mr. Bush has proven once again that he isn't concerned about the will of the American public nor making policy to make the public happy. Instead, he panders to his major supporters (right wing Christians, big business, etc.). For instance, Bush recently vetoed a bill to provide federal funding to stem cell research despite the legislation being approved by both the Senate and House of Representatives by overwhelming majorities. The people we voted into office to represent us, the people of the United States, decided that we would like more federal funding to go into research that could potentially lead to cures of all sorts of diseases and maladies. Despite this fact, Bush decided to veto the bill because it violated his personal beliefs and those of his supporters. If the man had any credibility before this, it's gone now.

But the truth is that stem cell research is here and it's going to stay. Maybe not in the U.S. but in many other countries around the world. Eventually, when we elect a leader who has at least one foot in reality, we too will join the effort. Of course, there is still some hope left in Bush. If his major contributers ever become so arthritic (a condition potentially cured through stem cell research) that they can no longer sign a donation check, Bush may change his mind. His lack of credibility won't be cured, but it would give the rest of us hope for the future.

So much to do, so little time.

2006-07-03T01:32:00.000-05:00

I don't know where to begin. Needless to say, I've been busy. Has anything been worth writing about? It's questionable, but I'll try anyway and let you be the judge.

I finally got the accident report from the Houston Police Department from when I was rear-ended by a car that was rear-ended by the drunken whore. Now I can finally deal with my insurance company who will deal with the DW's insurance company. Best case scenario, she pays for everything and this is resolved before I go to Germany. Worst case scenario, I'm about the $500 deductable I'll have to pay when my insurance company determines that the DW is incapable of paying for the damages and my policy will have to cover them. It's not something I really want to deal with but such is life.

Engineers Without Borders. It's consuming my life, but not in a bad way. The only real aggravating part is that I'm essentially trying to do the work of three or four people, which means that not enough is getting done. As the "Outreach Coordinator" I'm in charge of the P.R. for the group. It's not something I'm used to doing and I'll be the first to admit that I have no idea how to go about doing it. That's assuming, of course, that I know what "it" is. In the meantime I've been focusing on organizing our bi-monthly engineering seminars, the last of which occurred Thursday. It was a huge success, drawing in twentyone paying attendees. I know, twentyone isn't a very large number, but it is significantly more people than we had at our last seminar so I'm very happy. Not that we made much of a profit from this thing, but the exposure is great and we've even managed to draw in new members so it's all been worth it. Now that this seminar is over, it's time to start working on the next one. Like I said, too much to do, not enough time. I have some ideas and it would be incredibly useful to find others to help me implement them. Priorities are a complicated thing, and choosing them even more complicated.

The highlight of the week, however, occured this past Friday when I got to head up to Walter's on Washington, a little dive bar in a questionable part of town, and see The-Future-Mrs. The Rube perform. Yes, I'm talking about Tristan Prettyman, the San Diego beauty with voice of an angel and looks that could stop a man dead in his tracks. You can imagine the excited response she got from the men in the room when she announced that she was newly single. So you're saying there's a chance...I really can't say enough about this girl. She's only 24 so she has (hopefully) a long career ahead of her. Although I love seeing her perform at small venues, I wish her the best of luck in finding her groove and exposing herself to the world (musically, of course) for everyone to enjoy. She'll be performing at this years Austin City Limits so, if you plan on attending, please check her out and support a great and relatively unknown musician.

I'll admit this is a relatively boring post. Consider it a summary of the week, one that was busy but not exciting to anyone but possibly myself. Perhaps there is one thing that everyone would love to hear about (excluding the majority of my readers who I actually work with) and that is the impending shuttle launch. First, and foremost, I want to point out that the Shuttle does NOT launch from Houston. I've started seeing this girl who thought we launched from Galveston. This relationship isn't going to last long (I hope she doesn't read this...it was a joke, really!) No, my friends, we launch (as we always have) from the Kennedy Space Center at Cape Canaveral, Florida. As you aleady know, we failed to launch both Saturday and Sunday due to weather (we have VERY conservative constraints on weather) and the next attempt will be made on Tuesday. Although Monday is a viable launch date, having the shuttle all gassed up and ready to go on the launch pad for two days results in the need for a little maintenance. This will be done on Monday and the shuttle will be good to go for a few more days. Keep your fingers crossed. It's been some time since the last launch and despite what you may have heard about safety issues with the launch, everyone here is confident that we will get the crew into space safely. Nobody would have given a thumbs up for launch if they felt otherwise. For those of you with some concerns, let me put this in perspective. The space shuttle has over a million parts. That's 1,000,000 pieces of cabling and wires, and nuts and bolts and gears and valves and sensors and anything else you could possibly think of in a mechanical system. Even if you had a 0.001% failure rate (that is, 99.999% of the parts experienced no issues) that still leaves 1,000 pieces of hardware with the potential for causing issues. For those of you non-engineers, 99.999% is a ridiculously impossible number to sustain in any engineering system. Things break. That's a natural law. In fact, at the risk of shattering your faith in modern engineering, I'll divulge a little secret: everything you buy is designed to break. That's not to say you're being screwed everytime you buy something, but nothing lasts forever and the trick of successful engineering is to design something that fails in a known and control fashion. That's the only way you can predict failure and successfully prevent it. The break pads on your car will fail eventually but since the people who create them know this, and understand the mechanism, they can recommend how often you should be changing them out. Rather convenient, don't you think. On the other hand, because nothing is 100% reliable, more often than not redundancy is built into a system. So, when you hear about a malfunctioning temp sensor onboard the shuttle, be concerned but also understand that there are ways to get around it and rest assured that there are many, many people on the ground working around the clock to figure out a solution.

Whew...I didn't expect to write so much. I hope that shed's some light on the current situation. Someone asked me to write a little about my work so I hope that was informative. I'll gladly take any requests to write more. I can't get enough of this stuff ;)

Another downside to our failure to launch is that I know have to work the midnight shift this week...sort of. I'm working it tonight (Sunday night/Monday morning) but then I get Tuesday off due to the holiday. If we don't launch on Tuesday then I'm coming back in Wednesday and then through the rest of the week until we launch. It wouldnt' be all that bad if I didn't have a day on shift, then a day off shift, and then back on shift. If you hear from me this week, I may be a bit out of it. Now you know why.

For some reason I'm once again unable to uplink photos to the site. I'm getting sick of this. I know the blog has been looking a little bland lately so I'll do what I can to spruce it up. Until then you're stuck looking at boring text.

Have a great 4th of July! Don't forget that it's possible to love your country even if you don't agree with everything it's doing. America has fought long and hard to get where it is now. People have sacrificed, they've died, and they've spoken out and supported causes despite the danger it might have put them in. This holiday isn't just about the American Revolution. It's about the greatness of this nation and it's humble beginnings. It's about the love and dedication its people have felt and pledged for over two hundred years. I love my country because there's no other like it but there are many things about us that I can't stand and you can be sure that I'll invoke my Constitutional right as an American to rant and rave about them here for your enjoyment.

-The Rube

It's the little things...

2006-06-22T10:47:00.000-05:00

...that piss me off. I don't want to start out the day on a negative note, but I will anyway. As you all know, I work at the Johnson Space Center. Yeah, woo-hoo, I know. This week, like many weeks before, I am pulling a shift in Mission Control. One of the perks of doing this is a reserved parking spot close to the building. We have these reserved parking spots to make it easy for us to, well, find a parking spot. If we're coming in for a shift it's useful if we don't have to waste our time searching for somewhere to put our car. Necessary? Probably not, but we'll take it as long as it's available. As such, this spot allows me the freedom to show up just minutes before my shift and not have to worry about parking a half mile from the building. Yes, it's the small comforts in life that keep me going.

You can imagine my angst, then, when I arrived this morning only to find another car in my spot. Let me repeat that: there was another car in my spot! This meant that I had to waste another five minutes looking for a spot further way and showed up slightly late to my shift. Really, not a big deal, but it's all about principle. The spot is clearly marked as reserved and anybody who's been here for any amount of time knows how sacred that is. If I was any more of a bastard I would've had the car towed or, at least, ticketed. I can do that, you know. Being the nice guy I am, though, I just left a semi-nasty note on their windshield. Let's see if they park there again. If they do they will have found another place to park their car: the impound yard.

"Physics 101"

2006-06-11T00:19:00.000-05:00

or
"Action/Reaction"
or
"Next time you decide to have a few drinks don't get behind the fucking wheel, whore."

This post is going to be a lesson in common sense and accountability. It's also going to be a recount of the final hours of the previous Friday night's activities. Events, I should mention, were by all means ordinary and unexciting until some intoxicated bi-otch decided to make my night a little more lively. Normally, you'd a expect a good story to come from a line like that. Not this time.

A guy I know is only days away from heading out of Houston and starting a new life in a far away state. Somewhere up north where there are no cowboys and "y'all" probably isn't a word. Can't say I blame him. As a semi-final farewell, or just an excuse to try out a new bar, someone decided to hit up a little place downtown (midtown?) for a few drinks. The location was sketchy, at best, and the beer was expensive, but the night was pleasant and I got to catch up with some friends I haven't hung out with in a long time. I should mention that because of work I had to show up late and by myself. That is, I drove so I couldn't drink very much. Remember this. I knew that I had to drive home so I was responsible enough to limit my beer intake and prevent intoxication. This will be important later on.

As any good night goes, 2.a.m. quickly came about and we were forced to leave the bar. I decided to head home, others opted to grab some food. This is also important. Remember it. Now, when I say "head home" what I reallly mean is get into my car and roam the streets of downtown Houston looking for the entrance onto the highway. I'm convinced that, much like the streets of Boston during the Big Dig, the entrance is constantly changing. This is the only way I can explain my chronic inability to find the highway that I need at any given time. As expected, I followed the road that I thought would take me to the highway only to end up, basically, as far away from the highway as I could possibly get in a terrestial vehicle. I'm talented, that's all there is to it. And like most nights, I eventually found a road I knew, an intersection that was familiar, or a strip club that I've crossed many times, and the path to the road home was in my sights. Sort of. There was still a traffic light to get through. This is very important. If you're going to remember one thing, this is it. Quick: what were the other two things I told you to remember? You really should start paying attention. It's important.

Traffic light. As far as life goes, one of the more routine nuisances, but one which we obey because, when we don't, bad shit happens. That's foreshadowing. You catching on yet? The light was red at the intersection of San Jacinto and Wellesly when I approached it. So I stopped. Keyword: Stopped. Strangely enough, so did the black BMW behind me, albeit a little too close to me. But this is a city and that's to be expected. I was calm, I was content, I was only moments away from having a really shitty night.

That's when I heard the thud. Everyone knows this sound. It's the sound that causes you to look into your rearview mirror with the horrible feeling that something bad is about to happen. As I looked up into the reflection I saw the passengers in the car behind me lunge forward. Then came the second thud.

Thud.

That was the sound of my car lunging forward. I didn't like that sound.

The rest of this story is as you would expect it to be at a random intersection at 2:15 in the morning. Some girl in a late model Toyota failed to notice the red light and not one, but two, cars stopped at that light. As she stumbled her way out of her car she apologized profusely and said she would take care of everything and that I really shouldn't call the cops because she didn't want to go to jail. Did Imention that she had already mentioned that she had been drinking? Apparantly not all of us are responsible. Right. So, after she got through apologizing and promising us that she would pay for everything I informed her that, much to her chagrine, I had already called the cops and they were on their way to take care of everything. Oh, I'm sorry, that might mean you're going to jail tonight because, guess what, you fucked up and now you have to pay the consequences. What's that? You're sorry and you don't think the cops are necessary? Perhaps I didn't mention that you FUCKED UP and now you're going to pay for it. Now, I'm not a vindictive person, but I believe strongly in accountability and when you drive drunk you're going to eventually end up buying me a new bumper.

And lest you think I'm a total asshole, I'm not the one who threatened to beat the crap out of her. No, those were the girls behind me. Their BMW was in much worse shape than my Jetta and they were Pisssed (yes, that's with a capital "p"). Fortunately, they had enough sense not to act on it.

To put all your minds at ease, no one was injured and my car had, at worse, some cosmetic damages to the rear bumper that will be replaced by the drunken whore. The BMW was in bad shape and had to be towed (a moment of silence, please), along with Drunky McDrunster automobile. And what happened to Tipsy O'Drinksalot? She was given a ticket for what I image was reckless driving. Turns out the cops didnt' want to take her in because she wasn't drunk enough. By the time they could've administered the test she probably would have been sober enough to pass and, at that point, they couldn't give her a ticket. So, they decided to just stick her with the ticket up front. I would've prefered to see her in the back of the black and white but the cops know what they are doing so I trust they did what's best.

I feel a little better now. Trust me, this could have gone on forever but I wanted to write something you'd actually make it through and believe that I'm not a total a-hole.
Like most things in life there is a moral to this story. I wouldn't have bothered writing if there wasn't. Don't drink and drive. Yes, it's a universal truth and one that I wish more people would heed. But perhaps, more importantly, there's this one: if it's 2am and your friends decide that it would be a good idea for the bunch of you to head out and grab something greasy (and probably Mexican) to shove down your gullet, do it. It could save you a whole lot of trouble.

I told you that would be important.

When I finally take a photo of my bumber I'll post it here. Perhaps not as interesting a standard Rube photo, but an important lesson to all the inebriated fuckheads and Sloshy Sloshbergs out there.

Religion is dead

2006-06-08T21:49:00.000-05:00

Of course, I'm being facetious. Anyone who lives in Houston can tell you that religion is alive and well and currently resides in mammoth churches roughly the size of a professional sports stadium. You think I'm joking, don't you? The expression "everything is bigger in Texas" isn't just an empty boast. If you don't believe me, come down and check it out yourself. On second thought, don't. Houston really isn't worth the trip.

The reason I brought this up, suprisingly, is because of something I saw on everyone's favorite gameshow "The Family Feud". (Maybe it's everyone's second favorite game show...hard to beat Bob Barker and his Barker's Beauties.) Working the evening shift I have the luxury of watching an immense amount of bad TV while taking care of many things at home during the day. It's a guilty pleasure, but when there's work to be done at home I have no issues with keeping the TV on in the background. But I digress. As the two lovely ladies walk up to the podium with the big red buzzers and platform for the idle, yet waiting, hand, our pleasant and witty in that daytime TV kind of way host announces with a smile that the top nine answers are on the board for the following category: Name something you'd find on the front of a Christmas card.

Now, any idiot can probably come up with all nine answers, which is to say that neither of these families was able to do so. They definitely aim for a target audience with these shows and the contestants really aren't allowed to be too smart. As the round goes on they ramble off those things you'd imagine would be on the front of a Christmas card: Santa Claus, a christmas tree, presents...Jesus? Yes, of course, Jesus. It's only fair since he's the guy that put the Christ in Christmas. Remember, this was a survey of 100 ordinary people. Take a guess where Jesus fell on the list. That's right, number 8, which amounted to something like 9 people out of 100. Sad to say, when thoughts of Christmas float around the heads of this representative (I hope not) sample of the American population, only 9% actually associated Christmas with the man (god?) for which the holiday is intended.

Of course, I am by no means a religious man and don't claim to be a good Christian (or any type of Christian at all...us Jews are funny that way) but even I associate Christmas with Jesus. Maybe it's because I'm not Christian and I haven't been brainwashed by our American commercial culture to believe that the holiday is all about buying and, well, more buying. That's not to say, of course, that there's no one left who believes in the sanctity of the holiday but, like most aspects of American life, we tend to forget the origin of thinks and look forward to the sales at Target.

Somehow my belittling the people on the Family Feud turned into an attack on American Christians. Didn't see that coming...sorry, didn't mean to offend anyone, unless you were on Family Feud.

Today there was a category asking what store married women wished their husbands owned. Two contestants said Target and Walmart. Ugh. People have no taste anymore...

Still can't upload photos.

Enough already

2006-06-07T21:40:00.000-05:00

In case any of you are getting sick of the bitching and moaning from my previous entries, here's a little good news for you all. As you might have noticed, in addition to my desire to spread my views across our fair planet to anyone who might listen, I spend a little time with a camera in my hand capturing what I like to think are snapshots of that same fair planet. It recently came to my attention that one of the local art centers was having what's called a juried exhibition. This is fancy talk for an art show in which absolutely anyone can submit their respective pieces of 'art' for review by a jurist or jury. Yes, it's a way for us to be judged and either vindicated or shot down by someone we don't know and, before today, cared nothing of their opinion.

After so many pieces of questionable creative and skillful works are submitted, this jury reviews them all and decides which deserve wall space and which should be chucked out into space. I saw some of the submissions. Like most art galleries, some make you question your existence and some make you question their existence. I won't say which one my stuff fits into.

I submitted three photographs with no preconceived notion of how well they'd do. In fact, being the undying optimist I am, I assumed they would all be rejected. So, you can only imagine how shocked I was when I found out that two of them had actually been accepted! Granted, this isn't exactly the MOMA, but it was my first attempt at being an actual photographic artist and I'm very happy with the results. It's just good to know that I'm not the only person who thinks my photos kick ass :)

I highly recommend you drop by The Arts Alliance Center of Clear Lake sometime starting next Thursday and check out all the accomplished artists that had their work submitted. But, if anybody asks, you like mine the best.

These are the two I submitted. I think you've seen them before but you can't experience greatness too many times, can you? Oh, and before I forget, a special Thank you very much goes out to Sleepybear who helped me pick out these photos. On the other hand, I hold her personally responsible for choosing the third shot that did not get accepted. She has great taste in art, but only 2/3 of the time.

Just a few thoughts

2006-06-02T18:17:00.000-05:00

I promised you this post and I try not to disappoint. This is my moment of reflection, introspect, and wisdom. Or, at least, an attempt at all three. The events, or lack thereof, of the past couple of weeks have showed me once again how fragile the human condition is despite our belief otherwise. Self-image is only as reliable as the mirror we look into, and often times the reflection is distorted by our hopes of what we'd like to see. I thought I was a strong person. No, that's not the right term. I thought that I had set up a rather solid emotional wall, protecting myself from those powers that exist to hurt us on a personal level. I'm not completely closed off, of course, but I'm usually very careful as to who and what I open my doors to. Vulnerability was not even considered and for some time now I let myself think that I was impenetrable. I was wrong.

My thoughts last week had been for from comforting. Keep in mind, however, that what sparked all this was not unique or earth shattering. On the surface it was rather mundane in the grand scale of things (though enough to shake me up a bit). But isn't that how life usually works? We look out for major changes and it's the small ones that end up kicking us in the proverbial nuts? I think it's because the big stuff is obvious. We're expecting it. We've planned for and if or when it comes we're ready. When we don't see it coming, that's when it hurts the most. Especially since I haven't quite figured out what actually happened. Seriously, it's like it faked with the left and punched with the right and through in an ass kick for good measure. Didn't know where that came from....

Nothing is ever easy. If it is, you're doing it wrong. I think someone great once said that. Or maybe it was someone ordinary who had a little more insight into the world around him than those of us who sometimes forget certain inalienable truths. Sometimes you open your heart, even just a crack, to let something in and, well, sometimes it just never comes. That doesn't mean it needs to close. Perhaps it just means it wasn't open nearly enough. Or maybe it means those punk ass kids from down the street are ringing the bell and running again...Really, though, what we invite inside doesn't always want to come, as difficult as that might be to come to terms with. That doesn't mean you stop sending out invitations. Or stick a pissed off Doberman in the front yard. You know, the one with the big teeth that barks all the time? We're all told that, growing up, that one day we'll find our perfect match, regardless of whether or not we know it at first. What if we never do? But we will. And we'll keep believing that because it gets us out of bed in the morning.

Enough already. I know that's what you're thinking. I gotta stop harping on this thing. It's true, but I'm good when it comes to analyzing a situation beyond any reasonable necessity. Deal with it. For now, just do your best to refrain from making jokes about the size of my crack.

My computer is psychic

2006-05-29T17:38:00.000-05:00

I wrote an entry just now. Not a very good entry, but an entry. I wouldn't even say it was honest since it obviously was skirting many issues that I'm dealing with right now without having the courage to come out and just expose them. Not that I'm comfortable doing that here in the public domain It might be cathartic. I don't know.

But I wrote the entry and realized that it was neither useful to myself nor entertaining to anyone else. Who wants to read something vague and uninteresting? Not myself. I decided to erase it. Apparantly so did my computer because before I even got a chance to hit the delete key the text disappeared from the screen.

It's good to know that there's at least one thing out there that I can connect with.

Into the ether

2006-05-28T22:26:00.000-05:00

Perhaps I was imagining the whole thing. The fat lady never showed up because apparantly there never was anything to see...

Like a duck in hunting season...

2006-05-27T18:27:00.000-05:00

...I was shot down. At least, I'm 90% sure I was. The other 10% is just unquenching optimism that I'm reading this all wrong. In other words, it's denial. Not very happy about it, really. Not at all.

I'm sure I'll have more to say about this later, with a Rube-induced philosophical twist, but right now I'm still letting things play out. No fat ladies have sung yet...

Subtlety

2006-05-24T22:04:00.000-05:00

You ever try to be subtle about something even when you want to be blatantly obvious about it but then you realize that you don't want it unnoticed so you try to be obvious but in a sly kind of way because you don't want to be too obvious but you don't want to be so subtle that no one can tell what you're trying to do?

Yeah, I feel like that all the time. Especially tonight. Ugh.

Selectivity is not my proclivity

2006-05-22T22:23:00.000-05:00

In my new found desire to explore and improve my photography skills I've discovered the (not so hidden) cost of this wonderful hobby. Apart from the time required to take the photos, sort through the raw material, make any appropriate edits, and head down to the local developer, photography comes with a large price tag. First, there's the equipment itself. I have a Canon G3 which is somewhere between a point-and-click and a full-blown digital SLR. Ok, it's closer to the point-and-click than the SLR. If cameras were cars, the point-and-click would be a shiny Geo Metro and the digital SLR would be the bad ass Porsche 911. My camera would be a Honda Civic. The analogy made more sense before I wrote it.

My point is, that by all methods of comparision, I have a fairly simple and relatively inexpensive camera. I say "relativey" because in the world of electronic goods nothing is cheap. But I'm happy (for now) despite my intense longing for the Nikon D50, the entry level digital SLR that would make me the photographer I've always wished to be. In the meantime I'll have to salivate over the photos my friend Fiasco captures with her bitchin' digital SLR. But I digress. Of course, the greatest advantage of the digital camera of its film-based predecessors is the lack of film and cost thereof. I love this aspect. No more film. No more paying for film. No more conserving my shots because of the prohibitive cost of purchasing and then developing film. I can now take photos with reckless abandon with absolutely no concern for what is located in my viewfinder/viewscreen. And I do, which only leads me to my current situation: way too many photos.

I know what you're thinking: "But Rube, we love your photos! The more the better!" You're too kind, really. The truth is, though, like most people in this world of digitization, I am losing my discrimination when it comes to choosing subjects. It doesn't cost me anymore to take that extra shot of the mountain top or the car driving down the street even though it's virtually identical to the previous shots. But what's the harm!?!? First, when it's that easy to take a photo there's no reason to choose your subjects wisely and when I say "your" I mean "my" because I'm the one taking the shot. So I end up with a couple of extra image files on my memory card. Big frickin' deal.

Yes, big frickin' deal. The reason why is that I just learend that I have absolutely no restraint when it comes to printing out my photos. I just got my photos back from the Big Bend trip. All 120 of them. I'd say out of the bunch there are 40 unique shots. Out of those there are 20 decent shots and of those, 10 that I really like. I've already posted three of them. Although the price of printing shots has decreased it's still not free. Not that this is breaking the bank just yet but I can see that may eventually be a problem.

So, dear reader, I want to make a promise to you and to myself: from now on I will show more discrimination when it comes to which photos I deem "print worthy" and I will be more honest when designating certain photos as "crap". Yes, it's true, even I, the Great Rube, have the tendency to produce crap every now and then. For those of you who don't believe me, try reading some of my older posts. In the meantime, below you'll find a photo which I feel whole-heartedly deserves to remain in the "hey, that's not too bad" category. I hope you agree. If not, feel feel to leave a comment or write your opinion on the back of a Nikon D50 6.1-megapixel digital SLR camera with 18-55mm and 55-200mm DX Zoom Nikkor lenses, complete with circular polarizer and haze reducer filters and a 1Gig Compact Flash memory card and send it to my apartment.

Too late to be thinking

2006-05-18T05:39:00.000-05:00

But I do it anyway. I'm kind of stupid that way. I have to admit, though, that my brain activity is at a minimum right now. The shift is almost over and I really couldn't tell you where all the time went. All I know is that I'm feeling pretty good (I couldn't say the same for last night) and I'm calm. The kind of calm you can only feel when you've just spent the past six hours barely saying a word with only the thoughts in your head to keep you awake. Calm is good. Let's see if the rest of the day goes this smoothly.

Normalcy is good. Not exciting, but good. Sometimes that's all I'm looking for.

The midnight shift strikes again!

2006-05-17T03:15:00.000-05:00

Yes, it is once again 3am and I am not where I should be: in my big, comfortable bed dreaming of sugar plums and beautiful women (not necessary in that order). Instead, I am fulfilling my NASA-born duties as a Flight Controller and working the midnight shift here in Mission Control. Quick, turn on your TVs to the NASA channel and maybe you can see me. Or, better yet, remain sleeping and don't bother with any of this. You decide.

I always feel like there's more to write here than I have time to actually do it. Most of it's the boring day-to-day activities of a humdrum life (I've never used the word "humdrum" in a sentence before...it may never happen again). Buried within, though, I can usually uncover some nuggets of wisdom or entertainment for your reading pleasure. What you're reading how is what is usually referred to in the publishing industry as "filler". No real substance yet I'm still retaining your attention. Scary, huh? Consider a side-effect of our TV-driven society in which you can spend six hours in front of the television and still only get about 5 minutes of real content. I sometimes think my life would be so much better without television, but that requires missing Smallville and there are only so many sacrifices I'm willing to make.

Here's a little tidbit I just learned while writing this post: It may be a bad idea to use alchohol-based hand santizer on hands with newly opened blisters. My excursion to the rock gym today was a bit brutal on my hands and that apparantly did not agree with my desire to sanitize. Live and learn.

On another totally random note for all you fans of "The Rube's strange nocturnal habits", I thought I experienced another "episode" the other night. I woke up in bed, laying on my back, with a couple of t-shirts and a pillow case in the area of my body that would be considered my lap if I was sitting down. Of course, reaching behind my head I noticed that the pillow I was using was missing its pillow case. Now, I know all you loyal readers are thinking that I've once again performed some unnatural feat in my sleep that should be followed up with nothing short of an exorcism. Have no fear. I quickly realized that the pillow I was using actually started the night without a pillow case (I don't know either) so I did not, in fact, remove it while sleeping. And the t-shirts? Well, I think I had just dumped a load of clean laundry on my bed and I must have missed a couple items while putting it all away. This only leaves us to ponder the facts that the pillow I started the night with was different from the one I woke up with and, for some reason, I felt the need to place a bundle of t-shirts on my body while sleeping. I knew you'd enjoy that.

I think I had mentioned before that I went on a camping trip to Bi g Bend National Park a couple of weekends ago. Well, it's true. I don't know what to say about it other than Texas does have it's beautiful areas, contrary to popular opinion. I went with three friends of mine from or related-to work. The details of the trip are quite inconsequential and not very entertaining. All I know is that my feet were done at the end of our hike. That, and we came up with a great screenplay for a film tentatively titled "Attack of the Killer Caterpillars". Eerily enough, while discussing this future epic masterpiece we were being followed by a butterfly. We hiked for miles and we could not lose this one butterfly. Spooky.

On our last evening there we visited the hot spring which, as it's name implies, is actually quite hot. After all that hiking, though, it felt good on our weary muscles. We also got to swim in the Rio Grande at the risk of accidently crossing over to Mexico. My friend Kenny was a Mexican citizen for just about five seconds. I almost had to call the border patrol on him. Fortunately, he was able to recite the national anthem and could name the first president so I welcomed him back to the U.S.A. with opened arms.
Anyway, after 20+ miles of hiking and just as many hours in a rented minivan we found ourselves back in Houston. On behalf of the four of us, I'd like to formally apologize to whoever rents the van after us. We hadn't showered in days and by the time we returned home the vehicle acquired a permanent reek of sweat, feet, and stale cheetos. Along the way we stopped at the most ridiculous gas station/rest stop I have ever been to called Buc-ees which you can find an immense assortment of jerky along with all kinds of unnecessary Texas paraphernalia. Good stuff, really.

All in all, I'm just happy that we survived. The sun was hot, the air was dry, and the blisters were hurting. The trails were steep, both up and down, though I know we welcomed the drastic elevation changes as a great departure from the Houston landscape. Yes, it's a great national park and probably one that doesn't get nearly enough attention, though that surely keeps it relatively pristine. I recommend it to everyone who's looking for a change of scenery. Just watch out for those caterpillars.

Sunset at Big Bend

Texas can be beautiful...go figure

2006-05-09T21:37:00.000-05:00

Just got back from a four day trip to gorgeous Big Bend National Park in west Texas. I'm exhausted and dirty and still in awe over the beauty of the desert mountains. Many photos to come but I wanted to check in with everyone and say hello and promise you that I'll be sharing the highlights of this trip when I get the chance.

I also want to thank everyone for their advice from my last post. As generic as I tried to make it sound it seems like many of you are very perceptive. That fact doesn't necessarily make my life any easier as I've been able to do some thinking this weekend and realized how ridiculous the whole situation may or may not be, but it's definitely nice to know everyone's listening.

Have a great night and I'll get back to you soon.

-The Rube

Because I know how much you worry...

2006-05-04T21:11:00.000-05:00

...I wanted to check in with everyone. It's been a strange couple of weeks and I won't do you the disservice of actually accounting for them. All you need to know is that they involved a horrible cold, a painful plane ride, and ear infection (my first in twenty years), and many, many tissues.

Scattered in there you'll find a trip to Boston to see some friends and do a little recruiting and a side trip to NY to see my family which includes what might possibly be the cutest three year old ever to be born (I haven't downloaded the photos yet).

I'll write about those later...maybe. What actually prompted me to write is, well, let's just say something prompted me to write. I'll leave out the details for now to protect my own interests. I have a question to pose and perhaps my four faithful readers will have to some thoughts to share: have you ever been in a situation in which you wanted something despite the fact that you know it could possible be a bad idea to begin with? And, if the answer is 'yes', what did you do about it?

I expect very few people, if any, to understand the reason for that question but I have a feeling that many of you have faced that question in your own individual pasts. Discuss.

Only two days...

2006-04-25T15:43:00.000-05:00

...until my trip to Boston/NY. My company has graciously allowed me to travel to Boston to do a little recruiting. Very exciting. And while I'm there I'll be taking a trip to NY to see the family. Now I get to see my family, some grad school friends and some high school friends. Gotta love weekends like these.

Actually, I'm just curious to know what an interview feels like from the other side. Beware the wrath of interviewer Dave!!! Bwah-ha-ha-ha!

A rose by any other name...

2006-04-19T22:27:00.000-05:00

To all my faithful readers out there, I have something to confess. You've spent your precious time reading through my anecdotes and rants and raves and general incoherentness and I never had the decency to be honest with everyone. You see, my name isn't actually "The Rube". Nor is it just "Rube" or any derivative thereof. My name is Dave. Dave Rubin. Hello, it's good to meet you.

I bring this up due to something that happened to me the other day. Perhaps some of you share similar stories and I'd love to hear them if you do, but this is my version. As you can imagine, there are no shortages of guys named "David" in this world. It's a great name, biblical, of course, and no one can resist the temptation to use it to label their newborn sons. What it lacks in originality it makes up for in simplicity, with an undertone of history and a touch of nostalgia.

Being a popular name, it should come as no surprise that another friend of mine is also named David. Of course, you're thinking to yourself "how can someone get your, and only your, attention when, upon calling the name 'Dave', two heads turn around?" The answer, as you may have expected, is to use my last name: Rubin. Even the name Rubin has, over time, lost it's flair and has morphed into a variety of flavors.

What I find interesting, however, is how quickly my nicknames become the norm. No longer am I Dave. I am now Rubin. "Have you spoken to Rubin?" "How's it going, Rubin?" And my favorite: "Have you two met? No? Oh, this is my friend Rubin." Can you see where this is going? Yes, it seems that my friends have become so accustomed to calling me by my last name that my first name has lost all relevance. My parents, so proud of their decision to name me after the great biblical king (and my great-grandfather) have no idea that their decision was in vain. All that being said, I have no issues with this nomenclature. What I find most entertaining, though, is that there are some people out there who believe my first name is actually 'Rubin'. That's how I was introduced to them and that's how they know me. They have no reason to believe otherwise and I have no reason to change their reality.

Now, as Shakespeare so eloquently pointed out, a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet (pardon me if I butchered that one). In otherwords, if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, regardless of what you call it, it's still a duck. But I began to wonder, is this really true? Is a name immaterial? Does it have no bearing on the fundamental relationship between an object and the world around it? Perhaps not always.

I am Rubin. I am The Rube. I am Rubey. They're nicknames, and everyone loves a nickname. It means that you're one of the gang. A compadre. You're finally "in". You mean enough in certain people's lives that they took the time to come up with something to call you and it stuck. It's endearing. On the surface you accept it for what it is: just another label to which you respond when you hear it yelled across the room. I bet that you couldn't find a single person who, if you dig deep enough subconsciously, doesn't cheer up in even the slightest fasion when they hear this term of endearment from a friend. That's just how we are as humans.

We may look like ducks and we may sound like ducks, but I know at least one of them who'll answer to "The Rube."

-Dave

(everyone acts goofy sometimes, even The Rube)

Let's narrow it down...

2006-04-14T11:18:00.000-05:00

Here are some basic guidelines to use while determining if an online "match" is actually a good one:

1) She is not taller than 5'5". I recently got "matched" to a girl who is 5'9". I have nothing against women taller than me but, really, the mechanics would be mind boggling.

2) She doesn't mention anything about "finding a man". The phrase itself, "a man", makes me think that the concept of a man is more important than who the person actually is. Yes, I am a man, but I'm more than that and it's about time someone notices :)

3) She's not looking for a God-fearing man. As far from being religious as I am, I have nothing against someone who has a strong faith. However, if your goal is to fear God, then you must not have a very nice God and I'd rather stay out of his circle.

4) Her profile lacks photos of her posing on the hood of any kind of motored vehicle. That's only attractive in White Snake videos and it comes to close to a twisted NASCAR fantasy.

I recently signed up for eHarmony on the assumption that, if the less expensive dating sites are n't doing me any good, I'm probably just not spending enough money. eHarmony took care of that no problem. Now, if eH can just take these four criteria into account I'll be finding the love of my life in no time. It's about time I find myself a woman.

It happened again.

2006-04-10T21:37:00.000-05:00

I went to sleep wearing a t-shirt (can you see where this is going?). This morning I woke up in a sluggish daze, with the feeling that the weekend had not yet passed, and my t-shirt no where to be found.

I discovered it bunched up into a ball on the floor of my bathroom. I don't know what I do when I sleep but apparantly it makes me warm.

And I wonder why I'll be eternally single...

2006-04-07T23:57:00.000-05:00

The other day a friend was explaining to me that, although she had missed the latest round of cuts at her relatively new job, she had been receiving numerous calls from headhunters and other such holders of employment givers. She isn't sure how these people have acquired her name and phone number, but it appears that they are trying to scoop up those ex-employees who might be looking for a new career. They haven't received the memo that she still has a job.

My friend was pondering this at loud over a beer. Why, she wondered, was she being offered so many jobs when it took her a considerable amount of time to find the one she currently holds. I proceeded to explain that jobs are like women. When you need one, they're no where to be found but the minute you get one, the rest come out of the woodwork and they're throwing themselves at you. I received a quizzical look at this that I interpreted to mean that, although subconsciously she agreed with my statement, on the surface she was midly disgusted with the analogy.

No need to wonder any more.

New Paltz, NY (One of my favorite places)

All the way to the bank...

2006-04-06T23:06:00.000-05:00

I just want to think all my friends tonight who graciously allowed me to pocket their money in our weekly poker game. My skill was unpredecented, my hand was hot, and my wallet was full. Good times.

Instead of my usual photograph (usual in the sense that I've done it for a few days now) I'd like to post what may be the defining page in the textbook to be eventually titled "The History of the Rube". It was done by the ever so talented Colleen and, with her eventual permission (I hope) I present it here for everyone to enjoy and wonder what I was doing on a stage in my sweatpants.

There's always tomorrow...

2006-04-04T23:05:00.000-05:00

The Astro's sucked a big one today. I'm talking huge. They lost 11-2, and to make it worse, Andy Pettitte, who has a special place in my heart for being an ex-Yankee, more or less bent over and took it up the pooper with the way he pitched tonight.

Looking forward to game 3.

Random photo of the day:

La Jolla, CA

That's definitely one way of looking at it...

2006-04-03T22:53:00.000-05:00

A friend of mine just informed me that Jesus was the original zombie. I mention this due to the upcoming Easter holidy (although Easter 'season' started a month ago). I know this puts me at risk of alienating all my Christ-believing friends (I like to call them 'Christians') but it does raise a very good point. Any man who dies then becomes re-animated is a zombie in my book, even if he may be the son of God.

In all fairness, though, I don't really believe that Jesus was the original zombie. The very notion is just ridiculous. Zombies pre-dated Christ by thousands of years...

Random photos of the day:

In honor of the Astro's opening night

In honor of dogs everywhere who may or may not be watching the Astro's opening night

A little background

2006-04-01T00:29:00.000-06:00

Now that you've seen the photos (or a small fraction of them, at least) I'd like to tell you about their origin. It's a long story so lean back, put your feet on the desk, grab a drink, and relax. This is going to be fun...

As I've mentioned before in the past, I belong to the Central Houston chapter an organization called Engineers Without Borders (give us money). In addition to my duties in this chapter, I am also the mentor to a student group at Rice University, which is currently working with a community called Piedritas in the state of Coahuila. For those of you who do not know your Mexican geography, Piedritas can be found about 30 miles south of Big Bend National Park. For those of you keeping score at home, that's more or less in the desert. Anyone remember that Far Side cartoon of the couple in a car, with the wife in the passenger seat with a big map entitled "Nowhere" and a sign on the side of the road that read: "Entering: The Middle"? That was me and my posse.

Anyway, the reason why we made the trip down there was to help this impoverished community gain some semblance of clean drinking water. They have a well though the water is less than clean with increased levels of various contimants including E. coli (that's bad). Our goal was to perform some water sampling, biuld a prototype filter, and take a lot of photographs. It just so happens that, as barren as the area is, it's surrounded by beautiful mountains and crystal blue skies. The full moon was only a bonus.

If you're an engineer and you are interested in having some impact on the world around you (and maybe bring a smile to a child's face) go to the Engineers Withour Borders-USA website to find a chapter near you. Otherwise, we can always use more cash. It's not easy by a non-profit organization these days.

And I promise that you'll get more of the Rube posts that I know you've grown to love over the past few months. They've been sparse and dry lately and I'll blame that on a lack of time to give you anything more interesting. But I will try because I have grown to enjoy this method of expression and I miss sharing my wisdom with all my loyal (and possibly misguided) fans and friends.

Until then, I'll continue posting some of my favorite photos (or at least the ones I've been able to transfer to my computer).

-Rube

Piedritas, Mexico

Seabrook, TX

My karma ran over your dogma

2006-03-30T23:19:00.000-06:00

Even Houston can be pretty sometimes. Go figure.

Too tired to write...

2006-03-30T23:00:00.000-06:00

...so I'll just give you this instead. Have a good night ;)

Comfy

2006-03-29T17:06:00.000-06:00

Last night, somewhere along the journey my mind took in slumber, I had convinced myself that today was Saturday. As the soothing voices of NPR newscasters eminated from my alarm clock this morning I made the unregretable decision to sleep in an extra thirty minutes. I awoke with a feeling of calmness from thoughts of a day lacking in responsibility and a contentness that comes from very few places in this life.

Still alive...

2006-03-21T21:29:00.000-06:00

But too busy to explain. So I won't. But here are a few photos from my recent trip to Mexico to tide you over until I can actually find time for a real post...about my trip to Mexico.

A Guest Post

2006-03-01T20:26:00.000-06:00

Today I'm going to try something new. Instead of posting my unique (read: crazy) thoughts into this entry I'm going to defer to the words of a friend. She sent me this little essay because she wanted to share her experience with fire arms in the city of Philly. Since I live in Texas she thought I could possibly relate seeing how everyone down here is a gun-toting maniac. Well, not quite, but possibly in her mind we are.

This friend of mine, the venerable Dr. Tang, and I go way back, all the way to grad school. Maybe not too far back in time, but if feels that way as we've both finished up school and since moved away from Beantown. What makes her essay so interesting is the fact that she is not U.S. born. A citizen of China, she came to the U.S. to pursue her degree and to experience the myriad of cultures we have here in America. I was fortunate enough to be part of that. And, as her essay shows, she continues to explore the corners and cracks of our culture that a lot of us take for granted. It's an interesting work and I hope she produces more. Enjoy.

************************************************************************************

A Gun Store
by
Min Tang

Here I am, Girard Avenue, which runs along the Delaware River. I took orders from Girard College all the time. “Ja-rahd… Spell it? G-I-R-A…-A-R-D. No. R-A-R-D…What? I mean G, not J.” It’s one of those street names I have trouble remembering. Try to say it yourself. I bet you need one more sugar in your coffee to make your stiff Chinese tongue curl around those two “R’s.”

“Yah, those people can be difficult. It is a boarding school, and they usually ask for big orders. Get to ask them what hall and their names. … Safe? You mean are they in good or bad areas? Yah. Nasty area. Don’t go there.”

Here I am, walking down Girard Avenue on a bright and warm Wednesday afternoon. Do I feel safe? No, not at all. Everyone on the street has darker skin than I, I need to be vigilant. “Notice your whereabouts,” I was told by a local. That is why I need to look around, check the street names, for example. Poplar, Myrtle, Parrish—Wow, every single one of them could make me bite my tongue! God bless I don’t get calls from those places.

“Pistol Range” An arrow curled towards the right pointed to a rusty iron door. Next to it was an empty garage—think of the kind in which drug deals are done in movies. I hesitated and remembered seeing a police car parked at the corner a minute ago. So I turned the rusty knob and climbed the bare metal stairs. Another glass door, locked from inside. I pressed the door-bell.

“Gun Safety Control…” I was reading the posters while the guy behind the counter (black) was talking to a female customer, black again. Forgive my hypersensitivity to skin colors - I cannot help it when mine is the fairest, for the first time in my life.

“Hey, ma’am,” he called out as she was leaving.
“You know that it’s against the law if you buy a gun for someone else?”
“Oh?”
“So, if you buy a gun for your friend, and if your friend uses the gun to kill someone, you will be charged with a crime as well. You know that?”
“Oh… No.”
“Yah, remember that before you buy a gun.”
She smiled knowingly and left.

“How can I help you, ma’am?” he looked at me. This tall middle-aged man gave me a big and friendly smile. I liked him immediately, I guess, because of his clean look, like everyone else. He was in a jacket, just the right length to his waist, and the cuffs of his sleeves just reached his wrists. He didn’t look like the ones on the street, with their jackets reaching down to the knees. He had no hat, and he wasn’t wearing a hoodie, like the guy who robbed me three months ago.

“Just look around…interesting,” I said as I scanned the rifles and pistols hanging on the wall, “many people come here?” I started to regret my ignorance of weapons: caliber, recoil, range, German-made, M17, AK10, they are jumbles of letters that make no sense to me, and why should I care?

I looked into the eyes of this friendly black man—who are you? Who are those people coming here to shoot? For what purpose do they come? How does it feel when you pull the trigger? Bang! Does your mind turn blank? Do you feel a rush of adrenaline, like falling off a cliff, or winning a million dollars? Tell me, tell me about the human souls that maneuver the cold, hard, dark metal…would you?

In his eyes I see nothing more than a professional readiness to serve a customer; I think of seeing myself behind the counter in the pizza shop.

“Well, the guns…oh…where are they from? I guess there must be some better than others.”
“They are from everywhere. American, German. Austrian, those are good. Yah, we get some from China too. You from China?”
“Hah, my accent must have said so.” I laughed. He is certainly more experienced with people. How many Chinese come here? I wanted to ask but didn’t.
“You know. If you want to buy a gun, you get to try it first. Come here and try different kinds until you find the kind you want. It’s an investment, ya know. It doesn’t hurt to be careful.”
“There must be a gun store around here.” What makes him think that I want to buy a gun?
“Yah, next door.”
“You guys owned by the same people?”
He was silent for a minute, then he nodded with a sly smile.

The gun store looked into the street with the same worn-out facade as every other store along the street: old paint was peeling, long-forgotten plants dried out at the corners of the walls. Not far away I saw the police car I remembered from earlier. Again, I was buzzed in. Two guys, black, were examining the guns at the counter and talking to each other. A woman, white, was scurrying around behind the counter. Nobody seemed to notice me. Nobody seemed to notice each other, or anything other than a potential buy-and-sell deal. “All Sales Final” “No Arms Carried Inside Store” Black and white signs like those from a second-hand store. Guns, hung on the wall or lay on the hard wood inside the counter. Different lengths and sizes, perfectly still, reminded me of the dead fish I once saw in a fishery store; it is scary for either of them to turn around and stare at you.

“So what do I need to buy a gun?”
“A photo id, your alien card, and three utility bills from three consecutive months.”
“Well, the thing is I don’t have my alien card yet. It may take a few months.”
“You need it absolutely.”
“What kind you recommend for a woman my size?”
“Get all papers first, then we’ll talk about it.”
“Well, I kind want to know more before…”
“No more questions, honey. I’m sorry I can’t answer any question until I get the papers.” She hadn’t looked me once during the whole conversation. Buffs and bluffs, she seemed to know that I wasn’t serious.

Sure, I wasn’t serious. I’m not serious about guns, but I am serious about understanding the kind of life that “necessitates” owning a gun. And I am serious about the kind of people who lead that kind of life.

“Hi, you, get a gun?”
I turned, a black man was yelling at me. For a moment I couldn’t recognize him. “It’s me, the guy from the Pistol Range.” He touched his baseball cap. “You!” I wanted to tell him that all black men look the same to me, “just like all Asians look the same to you, right?” But I didn’t. I’ve gotten a little smarter after years of living in the US. Once I joked to a friend about being “a stingy Jew, just like us stingy Chinese”. Later I had to apologize profusely by self-deprecation, by mocking my ancestors, all the way back to my great-great-grandfather’s generation.
“No, not yet. I don’t have all the papers they want. You have a gun too?”
“Sure. I have it with me now,” he patted his butt. “I’m going to the bank, lots of money on me, ya know.”
“Ever used it?”
“Sure…But I can’t tell you about that now.” He winked at me, “you?”
“Well, I was robbed three months ago in Boston.”
“Wow, it must have hit you bad. Now you’re in Philly and you need a gun. Come to the range. I’ll help you.”
“Sure.”

I said good-bye. Should I tell him I was a lieutanent in China, and that I completed a month of firearms training, and that guns do nothing to me? Oh well…I’ll visit him again.

Flying High

2006-02-26T22:04:00.000-06:00

Last Friday was fun. Kind of. It had been one of those weeks where you can't quite pinpoint where your time had gone, but you know it was longer around and along with it was all semblance of energy. So, after a long day of just of minimal activity I was invited to join a few of the flight surgeons on a little field trip to the T-38 simulator at the space center. For those of you unaware, a T-38 is an airplane. In fact, it's the type of craft used by the astronaut crew for flight training. It looks like this:

It turns out that we have a simulator at the space center. I did not know this. It just so happens that many of a docs are pilots themselves and one of them just happened to have full access to the simulator. So, if you want to know what made Friday interesting, I'd say it was being able to land a T-38 at Ellington airfield. Virtually, at least.

May the Force be with you

2006-02-18T21:51:00.000-06:00

This post is a long time in the coming. Some of you may remember that I was in our nation's capitol for this past New Year's.
Good friends, good times, and good beer. A good time was had by all, no doubt. But that's not what I came here to write about.

As you all probably know, Washington D.C. is the home of one of our country's greatest national treasures: crooked politicians. If you get tired of them, however, there's always the Smithsonian. My favorite, not surprisingly, the National Air & Space Museum where you can see incredible feats of human engineering such as a model of the Apollo 11 Eagle moon lander.

Yes, surely something every space geek should see in his or her life. Now, as a special treat to all us NASA fans, our federal government has thrown a little money into the pot and opened up an annex to the Air & Space Museum located somewhere near Dulles airport. Fitting, really, since it contains what must be roughly a hundred different types of airplanes, including the one and only SR-71 Blackbird.

For those of you who don't know airplanes, the SR-71 was a top-secret military spy plane was that mostly known for it's ability to leak like a sieve. This was fortunately, ironically enough, since it wasn't able to actually take off with a full tank of fuel. But it looks really cool and it scared the crap out of the commies so it served its purpose.

Now, not quite as well known in the U.S. military spy fleet, but just as effective is this little gem:

It's a little known fact that this aircraft, dubbed the SR-72, actually won the second world war for us. Seriously. Would I lie to you?

Oh, you reader's are too smart for me. Of course, this is not actually a U.S. spy plane. Who was I kidding? It was a Naval battleship. Very advanced. Covert. Top secret.

Still don't believe me? I can never fool you guys. If you don't recognize it, it just happens to be the scale model used during the filming of Spielberg's Close Encouter of the Third Kind. If you've seen the movie then you know this is the truth. If you haven't seen it, then hop in your car and head to Blockbuster. It really is a sci-fi classic. What this is doing in the Smithsonian, I really don't know. However, I'm always up for seeing historical movie memoriabilia. What got my interest, though, was the plaque on the case of this exhibit:

Huh? Inside jokes, sure, but are they serious? Of course they are.

Now I've seen it all.

2006-02-17T19:17:00.000-06:00

I stole this little snippet from an AP article written today. Let's see how many ridiculous things you can find in it. I've bold faced the more obvious ones.

In Pakistan, Mohammed Yousaf Qureshi announced the bounty for killing a cartoonist to about 1,000 people outside the historic Mohabat Khan mosque in the northwestern city of Peshawar.

He said the mosque and the religious school he leads would give a $25,000 reward and a car for killing the cartoonist who drew the caricatures — considered blasphemous by Muslims. He said a local jewelers' association would also give $1 million, but no representative of the association was available to confirm the offer.

"Whoever has done this despicable and shameful act, he has challenged the honor of Muslims. Whoever will kill this cursed man, he will get $1 million dollars from the association of the jewelers bazaar, one million rupees ($16,700) from Masjid Mohabat Khan and 500,000 rupees ($8,350) and a car from Jamia Ashrafia as a reward," Qureshi said.

"This is a unanimous decision of by all imams of Islam that whoever insults the prophets deserves to be killed and whoever will take this insulting man to his end, will get this prize," he said.

Qureshi did not name any cartoonist in his announcement and he did not appear aware that 12 different people had drawn the pictures.

This popped into my mind (a little Pink Floyd)...

2006-02-12T02:36:00.000-06:00

...and you run and run, to catch up with the sun but it's sinking. Fritter and waste your hours in an off-hand way. The sun is the same, in a relative way, but you're older. Shorter of breath and one day closer to death.

Chuck Norris

2006-02-09T22:50:00.000-06:00

yes, that's right. The title of this entry is Chuck Norris. Perhaps you've already seen this, but my favorite website these days is the random Chuck Norris Fact Page. You can find the top 100 here. Just make sure you're in a place where it's socially acceptable to just about wet your pants due to laughing so hard.

Who's the boss?

2006-02-07T21:02:00.000-06:00

My blogging life is being cut short these days. Not for lack of caring, but for lack of time. Fact is, I find writing here very cathartic even if the threat of someone actually reading this is very low. The idea of someone enjoying is secondary; I write for myself, as an avenue for releasing my thoughts into a form I can sift through and sort out. If anyone else derives any insight from it then I consider a side effect though it would please me to no end.

If you haven't picked it up by now, my entries are about ideas for the most part. As a scientist I shouldn't be saying this, but facts bore me. Truth is easy to find (however disputable it may be) but the excitement lies between the lines, in that grey space that makes us question the words we say. I'm also terrible with them. Anyone who knows me can attest to the fact that my memory is faulty at best, non-existant at worst. Whether or not I dislike facts because of a bad memory or because I have a bad memory because my brain just doesn't want to bother with them is to yet to be determined and undoubtedly not important. I have deep respect for the brain (mine in particular, of course) and if it wants to act a certain way, then so be it.

Given the incredible aptitude of the brain I know (or does the brain know?) how unwise it may be fuck with it. Now Dave, why would you say something like that? Is there something going on in your life that would bring up such a discussion? I'm glad you asked.

I've recently signed up to be a test subject in a particular experiment being performed at my company. Rest assured, all you concerned readers, that there is nothing funny being injected into my arm, no pills being placed on my tongue and, most importantly, nothing being shoved up my ass. No, this is a neuroscience experiment whose intent it is to probe into the inner workings of mind in order to reshape and train it to suit a scientist's hypothesis. My brain is being retrained for the sake of future astronauts who may one day being to avoid one of the unfortunate side effects of long duration space flight upon reaching ground: vertigo. I'll avoid the discussion on this other than to say that in space there is no up, down or sideways simply because there's no gravity. Over time, astronauts get used to this and when they finally come home their brains have to readjust, a process that might be avoided given the proper countermeasures.

But I diverge. The study consists of me walking on a treadmill in front of a giant projection screen. Upon this screen is projected a virtual reality-derived room or hallway, depending on the day. I walk on a treadmill for twenty minutes while staring at this screen. Sounds easy, right? I will also mention that today the room on the screen was rotating counterclockwise continuously as I stared at it. That is, the floor become the ceiling which became the floor and so on and so forth. I'd say it rotated completely every 7 seconds or so. As you may guess, it isn't easy to walk straight when you're brain thinks you are flipping upside down every so often. No, in fact your body starts leaning towards the direction of the rotation because your brain believes you are falling in that direction and it wants to keep up with the floor.

You can imagine how disconcerting that can be. It gets even worse once the screen stops rotating because your brain eventually gets used to it so when the motion stops, everything appears to be rotating in the total opposite direction. Now, the trippy thing is that my body and brain know I'm not rotating because they can sense that I"m not actually rotating. It's my eyes that are confused and they are sending their confused little signals to my brain who at some point understood where up was and now doesn't know my head from my ass. Like I said, it isn't wise to mess with your brian.

What's even trippier is the realization that I have absolutely no control of my body other than being able to not piss myself everytime I have to go to the bathroom. Even that I'm fully conscious of the fact that I am, and will always remain, perfectly upright during this experiment, my brain still has the gall to decide that this isn't the case. Everything in my being is cognizant of the fact that up is up and down is down and that the subterfuge I see in front of me is nothing more than a computer simulation. Yet, my brain decided otherwise. I think we know where the power lies in this relationship.

-Rube

So close, yet...

2006-01-30T21:22:00.000-06:00

No, Yahoo! Personals. Contrary to what you may think, a large black woman is not my ideal match. I hope she finds happiness, I really do, but it's just not going to be with me regardless of what your computers may say.

I don't know why I even bother..

Neverending youth

2006-01-26T04:28:00.000-06:00

Today I took a trip to my nieghborhood Barnes & Noble to buy some travel books for Europe and Germany. I figured it was a good idea for me to have some idea of the country I was going to be living in for a few months. I handed the books to the cashier who asked me if I was going to be studying in Germany. Studying?

I think it's fascinating that even at the age of 28 I'm still being confused with a college student. Of course, this just goes hand in hand with being carded at every bar I go to. As surprising as this is, though, it is nothing compared to be carded at a movie theater where you have to be the mature age of 17 to get into a rated R movie. That was definitely a low-point in my above-17 life.

Happy Thought Of The Day: When I'm 90 I'll be asked if I'm 70, and everybody loves a good looking 70 year old.

Quintessential me

2006-01-25T05:22:00.000-06:00

A little while back I put something down on my computer desk and told myself not to lose track of it because it was quite important. Ok, the 'something' was a collar-extender which resembles a button with a loop on it. It's used to increase the neck size of a dress shirt (what can I say, I have weird proportions...). I had this conversation with myself because where I put it down was not in it's usual spot so I thought I'd take extra special care not to forget where it was.

The next day I sat down by my computer and picked up this little object and absent mindedly just started playing with it in my hand. Just passing the time really, keeping my fingers entertained. I probably carried this thing around my entire apartment just playing with it. Of course, I got distracted by something and when I actually had to use this little object I had no idea what happened to it. Not a friggin' clue. One minute it had been in my hand, the next it was floating in the ether of "what the fuck?" land. That was four weeks ago. I still haven't found it.

If you happen to find a button with a loop on it floating around your house, it's probably mine. I'd like it back. Thanks.

Didn't see that one coming

2006-01-23T01:39:00.000-06:00

This weekend I watched the movie Sin City with a few friends. Or, should I say, 'ex-friends' because after choosing that one I'm sure they will not be hanging out with me anymore. That's not to say it was a bad movie. In fact, I think it was one of the most interesting movies I've seen in a longtime. The cinematography in itself was enough to deserve massive amounts of praise.

But don't deceive yourself, this ain't no Disney movie. In fact, it's gotten be the most disturbing movie outside of the pair of Kill Bill films. The only difference is that Tarantino threw in a dose of campiness into Kill Bill which diluted the disturbing nature that accompanies that much blood letting. Sin City doesn't pull any punches other than it's use of a comic book style of cinematography. So, although you don't necessary see large quantities of red blood (in fact, most of it isn't) you do see a lot of gore and otherwise disturbing images. People die, and in horrible ways. And although this film was only 'guest' directed by Tarantino, the order of the story board reeks of his influence. Linearity is put in a blender and puree'd. Like most Tarantino flicks, though, the end justifies the means. Confusing as it may be to follow the multiple story lines as they weave in and out of each other through the course of the story, their resolution in the end makes it clear that the method in which the story was told was of upmost necessity.

This movie isn't for everyone. Hell, it might not be for anyone. But if you're craving originality this should be towards the top of your list. See if with friends because to watch it alone is only asking for nightmares. But also make sure those friends are likely to enjoy this type of movie. Otherwise, you might end up with a few less friends.

It's about time I wrote something

2006-01-19T22:03:00.000-06:00

This post is a long time coming and I really have a million things to write. Or ten. Truth is, it's probably somewhere between the two. But it's about time I come clean with everyone and explain why it's taken me so long to write: I had all my fingers surgically removed so I could save money by not having to buy gloves. Now all I need is a pair of old tube socks to keep my stubby hands warm. I know you're jealous of my ingenuity.

Ok, that's obviously not true. I told the doctor to keep pointer fingers. That way I could still type these blog entries. Lucky you.

What I really wanted to do is elaborate on my recent announcement that I'm being shipped to Germany. I'll keep it short because I know it's not interesting to anyone other than myself and the people I work with. Here's the part that you'd be interested in: I head off in August (exact date: to be determined) and stay for approximately three months in the city of Cologne. I know nothing about the city other than what's been passed my way from people who have been there. That's enough to get me excited. Even more importantly, I plan to travel as much as I can while I'm over there. Sure, I'll be busy with all the work I'll be given for my job but once the weekend hits it's time to party and see as much as I can. Job? What job? I'm going to get my party on in Europe.

And this is the part that you'll really like: Consider this an open invitation to come visit me in Cologne, Germany. That includes all you random people who don't actually know me but still read my blog. You're all welcome, especially the young, attractive females. Come on, come all, and we'll have a great time, especially during Oktoberfest :)

Great gobs of goose shit!

2006-01-05T17:37:00.000-06:00

What's got two thumbs and is going to Germany for three months in July?

This guy...

More to come later. And bonus points if you got the reference...

Let's try something new

2005-12-29T23:10:00.000-06:00

Since the year 2006 is quickly approaching I thought I'd suggest we play a game in the new year. It's called "Find Dave a date". That should in no way be construed as sounding desperate. In fact, I tend to do quite well by myself. I've had a lot of time to practice. I just thought I'd take the dating world for a little spin and see how it suited me. So, if you know anyone who's available, in Houston, let me know.

And speaking of ridiculous things, there's a commercial they play down here in Texas that I need make everyone aware of. Perhaps you've seen something similar. I don't know, but it's the apex of ridicularity (yes, I invented a new word) that should be identified as such. Every city I've lived in has always been overrun with poorly produced public access commercials for desperate lawyers looking to get your lawsuit and provide settlements for car crashes and other such accidents. Opportunists of a sort and as much credibility as the televangelist who sells "miracle holy water".

Speaking of religion, it's no secret that Houston (and Texas in general) is rather strong on the religion front, especially in the form of Christianity. I can't explain why the Jews and the Muslims decided not to migrate towards the Gulf State but that's beside the point. What I find so absolutely fascinating is the telelawyer (another word I inventd) firm that prides itself on being "a good Christian law firm". Huh?

Apparantly your faith in Christ determines your quality as a lawyer. That's not a knock on Christian lawyers. I just don't see how religion has anything to do with procticing American law. Do you?

Stick a fork in me...

2005-12-24T03:48:00.000-06:00

I know a girl who "loooooves" her pets.

I had a friend in college who claims that if you're going to sodomize a sheep (or barnyard animal of your choice) you're better off doing it up in the loft of a barn. Just push that sucker to the edge and it'll push back, afraid it's going to fall off.

We always hoped he was joking about that.

That's about all my brain can come up with at 4 a.m.

Happy Thought of the Day/Morning: Last shift of the week...unless you count the half day I'm putting in tomorrow. Maybe not happy, per se, but definitely content

Incredibly Photogenic Family Picture of the Day:

Mental movies make me muse

2005-12-23T05:23:00.000-06:00

Last night I had a dream. I've decided to start telling everyone about my dreams. Not all my dreams, of course, because there are just some things that you don't need/want to know. I tend to have vivid dreams, most of which make absolutely little sense. Truth is, it's this total lack of coherency that makes me so interested in, and proud of, my nocturnal escapades.

Over the years I've wondered if dreams are, in fact, our brains trying to communicate with us while we slept. Of course, if that is the case then with whom (or what) exactly is it trying to communicate? If the brain is the thought center of our bodies then, by producing dreams, it has done nothing other than to create images for itself to experience. Are dreams simply the screen savers of our minds?

Dreams do come from the mind. There's no way of refuting that fact. Unless you can somehow prove that dreams are transmitted through space from the spaceship that hides behind the sun I accept them as unique manifestations from the organ that defines my sense of self. The brain, of course, is like a certain swamp-dwelling green ogre: layers. What you see is not always what you get. I truly believe that what we experience as a conscious being is far from the full depth of what our brain is capable of. Like any complex device, there are internal mechanisms that are hidden from view and are only important in the sense that they make the system fully functional. They don't need to be experienced directly. In the case of the brain, though, I think it is possible, albeit unintentional. Is it possible that dreams are simply these layers, the unseen parts of our minds, finally getting a chance to sneak out in the night and make themselves seen?

Not that they typically make any sense. Perhaps they're not supposed to. I can only imagine the mess of neurons and unconscious drivel that create the ridiculous thoughts that do make their way to my consciousness. So I'm not surprised that, when I dream (and it happens quite often) they are bright and fantastic and utterly nonsensical. I enjoy them because they appear to make no sense yet I can usually glean some type of message, usually fabricated after the fact by a conscious mind trying to remember what it had experienced in the night. Dreams are the mind letting go, allowing all types of thoughts to prance across the mental landscape, free of their daytime confines.

I've heard some people say that dreams are simply the brain releasing all information it no longer needs. A dump of non-critical data. If that was the case then I'd expect dreams to be even more random than they already are. Just the fact that I see discrete images within a context makes me believe there's some order to the process, not just a cascade of discarded neural overstock.

And speaking of discarded neural overstock, it's now almost 6am and the shift is coming to a close. Only one more night until my week is over. Kind of. I need to put another half day in on Sunday.

But I told you that I would describe last night's (day?) dream, so here goes. I had gotten a puppy. The thing was absolutely tiny. Like a chihuaha, just not as ugly. It reminded my of a friends miniatue pinscher. It was living in my apartment though I neglected to tell the management who requires a security deposit and increased rent in this situation. To make a long dream short, I took the dog outside and got caught by the two management ladies. Now, I didn't recognize the women though their faces were quite clear in the dream. However, the point is that I should be allowed to have a puppy in my dreams without the fear of being yelled at. It sucks to have a dream ruined by two fictional people yelling at me.

Mind-boggling thought of the day: It turns out that any judge who makes a ruling against right-wing Christian values is labelled as either 'left-wing secularist' or 'activist', regardless of the fact they might be a registered Republican who was appointed by George H.W. Bush. And they say liberals have an agenda...

Burning the midnight oil

2005-12-20T04:18:00.000-06:00

I was looking through some of the recent hits to my blog (yes, I AM watching you) and I noticed that someone came here through a Google search for sleep shifting (or something related to it). Since there seems to be so much interest in it I've decided to give you a step by step instruction on how to properly adjust your body for working through obscene hours of the night. This will go on the assumption that your shift begins around midnight on a Sunday.

Friday night: Party it up because the week ahead of you is going to suck. You'll be waking up and going to sleep at odd hours of the day and, due to this fact, your body won't know what to do with itself. Outside of work (and even this is questionable) you'll be useless. Have a good time tonight because it'll be your last opportunity for a while.

Saturday: See Friday night

Saturday Night: Don't forget to stretch because it's going to be a LONG night. The objective of this night is to stay awake as long as possible. I generally aim for 4-5a.m. I typically don't have a problem with this seeing how I'm very good at keeping myself busy with either movies or random projects to do around the apartment. The impressive part is that I do it entirely without the aid of caffeine. Don't drink it normally and I see no reason to start now. The key to staying awake: NO ALCOHOL. That might be obvious but if you think staying out late by hitting up a huge party is a good idea, think again. It might keep you awake but considering that you're already asking your body to adjust itself to odd sleep/wake cycles, you want to treat it as nicely as possible. Stay away from the booze.

Sunday Morning: Sleep in, but not too late. Make sure you're still tired through the day.

Sunday Evening: Take a nice, long nap. A few hours if you can. This should give your body that final chunk of rest it needs to make it through your first shift.

How you sleep after this is up to you. I end up staying awake for an hour or two after work and then putting in 7-8 hours of sleep during the day, but I also have no trouble sleeping in daylight so everyone will differ on this. The key is to make sure you get enough sleep. No point in putting more strain on your already tired body.

Now, wasn't that interesting?

Random partial lyric of the day:
When I'm deep inside of me
don't be too concerned.
I won't as for nothin' while I'm gone.
But when I want sincerity
tell me where else can I turn.
Because you're the one I depend upon.

When in doubt, do nothing

2005-12-20T03:01:00.000-06:00

I had a relatively major epiphany today (other than once again realizing that working the midnight shift is only as good as the drugs used to keep me awake). Maybe you share this trait, but I've always questioned my motivation for doing just about anything in life. I'm talking about everything from what to study in college to how much toothpaste to put on my toothbrush. As you can imagine, it's enough to drive a man insane though having an overactive brain does have its benefits, most of which I'm still trying to ascertain.

I bring this up because I feel that I differ from the general population when it comes to this and it's especially pronounced during this time of year. While others are out cramming the shopping malls and outlets force feeding their car trunks with generally superficial expressions of love, I do what I can to stay out of their way. All philosophy aside, I become a hermit this time of year mostly out of self-preservation. I've inherited my father's inability to be crammed in a mall surrounded by people for any period of time longer than what it takes to buy one thing and get the hell out of there. Granted, this usually results in more trips to the mall because I can only buy one thing at a time so I'll let you revel in the irony. In the end, however, I have my peace of mind and the will to continue living so I can't complain.

My point is that this time of the year prompts everyone to feel a need to come up with incredible gift ideas for everyone they've known since pre-school and expose themselves to the respective stress. I say that we should focus less on the holiday season and extend our gift giving throughout the entire year, giving when the mood and inspiration strikes us. But gift giving is only an example. Truth is, I tend to rely on this philosophy in most aspects of my life. My epiphany stems from the fact that I was finally able to put this in some sort of context. It's one thing to live a certain way but to actually define and make sense of it is an entirely novel experience.

Before I go on it's critical that I introduce one particular term to this discussion: entropy. As anyone who has taken a high school science course (and remembers more than throwing frog parts across the room) can tell you, entropy is (in its simplist form) the measure of disorder within a system. Nature, being the incredibly intelligent force that it is, prefers a system with high entropy (high disorder) much like the malls on Christmas Eve. Accordingly, a system can go from a state of high entropy to low entropy, but not vice-versa without the addition of energy. For example, in nature, a building cannot build itself without the aid of man, though, given enough time, it will come down through natural forces. Nature prefers that building to be a pile of rubbish because that is a less energetic state. If that wasn't clear enough, think of your body. Do you think it prefers to be standing or lying down? Lying down, of course, because that requires less effort.

Let me bring this back to my original discussion. I realized that I govern my life by a rule of high entropy. That's not to say that I aim for disorder. I actually abhor disorder, a trait that probably contributed signficantly to my foray into engineering. What I do tend to lean towards, however, are low energetic states and a more naturalistic lifestyle. Clear yet? No, I think not. Simply put, I try not to fill my life with those things that aren't necessary. The more things I have, the thinner I spread myself out with activities, the further from my most natural state I become. Don't confuse this with sheer laziness. In fact, I'm quite an active person, whether it be physically, socially, or culturally. Ok, maybe not so heavy on the social part, but I do what I can.

Maybe by now you can see why this was such an epiphany. I have no doubt that you're reading this, scratching your head, and realizing what sleep deprivation does to the mind. In the grand scheme of things, assigning the word 'entropy' to my thought process means very little though it now gives me a way to describe it to others. Everything I do is based on the underline assupmtion that I'm looking for the simplist way of completing the objective or performing the act and rejecting any contemplation of going for 'bigger and better' which, usually, is neither. Keep it simple. Low energy states. Entropy. Perhaps it's not the clearest metaphor. Perhaps it makes sense to no one other than myself and a handful of philosophical physicists. But it's enough to give me a little more awareness of my thought processes.

Now I think I'll go lie down.

Random image of the day:

The man can do no wrong

2005-12-18T04:12:00.000-06:00

I just saw King Kong tonight. That has to be, without a doubt, the quickest 3 hours I've spent in a movie theater. I'm not saying it's the greatest movie ever made but it was a damn fine way to spend my evening. There were some scenes in that movie that made my jaw drop, both for it's incredibly special effects and from the creative brilliance Peter Jackson and the rest of the WETA team possessed while making this movie. The acting is, at best, a minimal part of the movie. The visuals immediately draw you into the story and do an incredible job of not only stunning you with their realism and general "holy shit!" factor but actually become the main vehicle for telling of the story. The emotions are carried through in words but in subtleties in voice and facial expression. Noami Watts' acting is only surpassed by the emotional saturation of the face of King Kong. I know the dude was only computer animation, but they nailed it. The depth of soul of Kong in this movie makes you not only forget he is not a real creature, but makes you hope, deep down inside, that perhaps the ending of the story will change and the creature's life will be spared this time around.

It's a long movie but I definitely think it's worth taking the time out to see it. Quality. Peter Jackson is on a role. I can't wait to see what he plays with next.

Ranting of the day: What kind of jackasses take their small children to a 9:40pm showing of a 3 hour long movie with an obvious high level of violence? You have to know that there will be no way to keep those kid's mouth shut through the entire movie. I wanted to just turn around and smack the parents (smacking the kids would've been a little too harsh). I don't know whether to chalk it up to sheer stupidity (could they have not realized it would be an issue) or plain selfishness (they really wanted to see the movie, regardless of the effects on their children and all the other patrons). I'm guessing it's the latter but I couldn't say for sure. Either way, it's annoying especially when it's during a particularly intense scene. Moral of the story: Leave the kids at home. I don't want to hear'em.

And I quote:

2005-12-14T23:02:00.000-06:00

"This is the first time in 10 days I haven't had to feed a fish."

My apologies for the lack of entries. I'd like to say it was due to me having a life, but then I would just be lying. I have been incredibly busy with random life occurances which have left me with little or no time to write. I miss it, I really do. Heck, now and then I actually come up with things I want to write about and that you may actually enjoy reading! Gotta jump on that train when it comes my way but so far I've just been eating track dust. This is partly due to my recent introduction to sudoku but mostly because of my immersion into the world of improv comedy. And you thought being funny was just a hobby...

Of course, that is just a teaser as it's past my bedtime and I really like my sleep. Stay tuned for those topics and more! Really, this weekend, I promise. Now that the holiday season (read: Christmas) is approaching I'll have less and less to do seeing how all my Christian friends will be fleeing the state to see their families and my lonely Jewish self will be stuck in Houston. The good news is that I'll have nothing better to do than write an entry or two. Plus, I'll be working the midnight shift (again) next week which might afford me the opportunity to drip my mental saliva on the keyboard and share with you the thoughts in my head that only make their appearance during the wee hours of the night.

Key words for you to look out for: Improv, sudoku, high school reunion, EWB, and Germany. If I don't cover all those in the next few posts, give me a little kick and I'll get to it.

For your general viewing pleasure, I leave you with this:

And what blog entry would be complete without a little karaoke?

Temporarily Out of Service

2005-12-02T06:34:00.000-06:00

Please excuse The Rube's absence. We have our best technicians working on him right now and he should be back in service shortly.

Relocation time

2005-11-18T05:16:00.000-06:00

Last night of the midnight shift...for now, at least. My body can tell it's the last shift because it's on the verge of shutting down. The human body is just not meant to be awake at these hours and every time I work this shift I experience the consequences. Fortunately, I have it lucky. There are other flight controllers who work this shift 7 days straight, with two of those days being 12 hour shifts. I'll take five days over 7 anytime...

Tonight was special, though, because I got to witness a Soyuz relocate. I know that means very little to most people who read this and about as exciting as a mouse fart so I won't bore you with details. The Russian capsule that the crew members have been using to get to the space station is docked to a certain location on the ISS space station. For reasons not worth mentioning, it was moved to another location on the station. The reason why this is such a critical activity is because the crew has to get all suited up within the Soyuz in case something goes wrong, the Soyuz can't redock, and they have to come home. But that's not why I bring it up.

As you can imagine, there are multiple cameras on the outside surface of the space station, some of which were able to capture this relocate. In a word: breathtaking. The redocking took place as the space station was making it's way over the Sahara Desert and was complete somewhere over the western edge of the Mediterranian Sea. It's not the kind of view most people get to see everyday. Or anyday. The brown of the sand juxtaposed with the deep blue of the sea is an amazing site and really makes me appreciate the diversity of our planet. How can a land so dry border the ocean? Simply incredible.

Happy thought of the day: Getting off of work, hopping on a plane, and flying to New York for Thanksgiving

Song quote of the day: "The best thing about New York City is you and me."

A new way of looking at things

2005-11-17T03:51:00.000-06:00

Tonight I told someone that this morning around 5a.m., while playing an annoyingly addictive word game on Yahoo!, my brain just wasn't functioning at its maximum capacity. Not surprising since I had been up all night doing very little at work which is not something you're supposed to admit when your work is in Mission Control. However, the crew is usually very autonomous and the less I have to do, the better. But that's beside the point. What I had actually said was it felt like the inner workings of my brain were running at full speed, grinding away in all their cognitive glory, while the front end, the user interface, if you will, was doing nothing. Like the gear box connecting the two was missing so that while one part was at full capacity, nothing was happening up front. It's a strange metaphor but eerily accurate when it comes to how it actually felt.

On a separate note, have you ever looked at someone you know through the eyes of someone who does not know them? I've found (at it's no huge discovery) that the longer we get to know someone, the more comfortable our view of them becomes. When our gaze hits the face of a friend, our processing of the face not only involves the curves and lines and tones unique to that person, but their personality also. Everything we know about that person, all our experiences and memories, all contribute to how we perceive that person to look. Try looking at someone as if they were a stranger. Like you had never seen them before and you're scanning them to create a first impression of their attractiveness. It takes a little practice but the results are interestingly strange. Or strangely interesting.

It's kind of like looking at yourself in the mirror, I mean really staring yourself down, and having to wrestle with the concept of self. Your mind knows that the body it sees before itself is the physical manifestation of the entity you know to be yourself. That is, the body in the mirror is "you". If I stare long enough (and maybe it's just me) the little voice in my head begins to realize that the body it sees is only that, a body, and that the person I know to be myself, my consciousness, lies somewhere else. It doesn't quite realize that all this is going on in the brain which is, in fact, part of the body because my self isn't all that bright. All this makes me wonder if one day it will be possible remove the consciousness from this body and put it somewhere else. Not that I want to, of course, because I'm perfectly content with where I am. I just think that if a separation between mind and body does exist, then this moment of clarity while staring in the mirror is the greatest proof of it.

Like I said, it's amazing what I can come up with at four in the morning.

Happy thought of the day: Only one more night of midnight Mission Control.

Partial song lyric of the day: "Well I know these voices must be my soul..."

10 quick years have come and gone

2005-11-15T03:28:00.001-06:00

In a week and a half my high school class will be convening at a banquet hall to eat and drink and catch up with everyone after all these years. I will be going. I don't know why.

I do know why. It's because my friend wants to go and he wants me to come along. I couldn't convince my brother to go and after looking at the list of people who will be attending, I really don't blame the guy. These are people that I grew up with. I had some classmates who I went to school with from the first day of elementary school to the last day of high school. Others I met along the way. Most, however, had very little impact on my life. Those that were important to me have stuck around in my life. Mostly. There are some people that I lost touch with and this I regret, but such is the way of life. My point being that I really don't care if I ever see most of these people ever again. Before I saw the list I though it would be a good idea but now that I know that the people I would actually like to see aren't even going to be there I've lost my desire to attend. The only catch is that a friend of mine (you remember my friend?) has already payed his money and I don't want to ditch out on him. So I haven't. My money has been paid and I'm going to the reunion.

The thing that bothers me the most, and it bothers me that it bothers me, is that I feel like this is going to be one big judgement festival. Who's successful, who's not? Who's married? Who's still single? Who's in prison? Who's out on parole? You get the idea. Because, really, why else would anybody attend? Truth is, like myself, most people have kept in touch with the people that they wanted to keep in touch with. I'll admit that I'm curious to see how a few people turned out. I like to think that I've done a decent job with my life. I've gotten a few degrees, landed myself an interesting job, and well...that's it I guess. What I'm not looking forward to is spending three hours meeting everyone's significant others and hearing about the wonderful babies. Or repeating my story over and over again until I get to the point of just making things up to keep myself entertained.

I'm also partially embarrassed to admit that I'm still single. My situation is definitely not unique but I used to think that by this point in my life I would have made a little more progress in that area. I haven't. I'm not necessarily concerned what everyone thinks about this fact and I'm not conceited enough to think they even care. Just like I don't care about their spouses and babies (though I'm sure they're just adorable) my former peers aren't really going to give two shits about my marital status. It bothers me, especially as I quickly approach my 28th birthday in a week. It shouldn't bother me. I know this. On a day to day basis I don't even think about it as I tend to enjoy the things I get to do as a single person.

I'm not happy with this post but seeing how I've spent a good chunk of time writing it I'll keep it for now. This will be a lesson to myself not to write entries at 4am. Read it while you can because there' s a good chance it'll be gone be tomorrow.

The midnight shift strikes again!

2005-11-14T02:09:00.002-06:00

Expect a lot of posts this week. I'm working the graveyard shift once again and this is really the best way of keeping awake. That also means what I do write will be grossly incoherent and about as random as a donkey in a pinball factory.

Answer of the day: Ringmaster. I was a ringmaster. From a circus. On a side note, I apparantly wear a size 10 women's jacket (it's hard to get a bright red men's coat...).

Happy thought of the day: My loyal readers, who have pushed my hit counter above the 1000 mark. If you were that 1000th person, let me know. I have a toaster waiting for you.

The midnight shift strikes again!

2005-11-14T02:09:00.001-06:00

Expect a lot of posts this week. I'm working the graveyard shift once again and this is really the best way of keeping awake. That also means what I do write will be grossly incoherent and about as random as a donkey in a pinball factory.

Answer of the day: Ringmaster. I was a ringmaster. From a circus. On a side note, I apparantly wear a size 10 women's jacket (it's hard to get a bright red men's coat...).

Happy thought of the day: My loyal readers, who have pushed my hit counter above the 1000 mark. If you were that 1000th person, let me know. I have a toaster waiting for you.

The midnight shift strikes again!

2005-11-14T02:09:00.000-06:00

Expect a lot of posts this week. I'm working the graveyard shift once again and this is really the best way of keeping awake. That also means what I do write will be grossly incoherent and about as random as a donkey in a pinball factory.

Happy thought of the day: My loyal readers, who have pushed my hit counter above the 1000 mark. If you were that 1000th person, let me know. I have a toaster waiting for you.

A belated Halloween picture

2005-11-10T12:29:00.000-06:00

This year a friend of mine decided to throw a Murder Mystery Dinner for our Halloween party. It turned out to be quite interesting and everyone's costume was top notch. Well, almost everyone. I showed a picture of my costume to a friend and she thought I was going as a pimp. I was not a pimp. Here's the photo:

Riddle me this: Does this look like a pimp costume to you?
I'd like to know what you think I was actually going as.

Engineers Without Borders

2005-11-03T22:15:00.000-06:00

It's taken me far too long to post this but I've found myself with some time on my hands so this has turned into the perfect opportunity to tell you about an organization I'm a part of. We're called Engineers Without Borders, though the chapter I belong is is EWB-Houston Central.

Although we're not affiliated with the much more well known Doctors Without Borders, we do share a common goal: improving the lives of those less fortunate than us around the world. In our case, we do it through improvements in community infrastructure, whether it be building a school house, providing a means for energy production, or digging a well. We're not taking huge steps in changing the world but we do what we can, one village at a time.

We're currently involved in a variety of projects, the most pressing at this time (on the national level) is tsunami reconstruction. As you can imagine, these projects involve rebuilding the communities that were damaged/destroyed by the tsunami in Southeast Asia last December. But that's just one of the projects.

We are also working towards the construction of a retaining wall for a village outside the capitol of El Salvador. It's not very glamorous but to the people who can't travel on the road during the rainy season because half of it has eroded down the hillside, it's an important project.

Closer to my heart (because it involves power tools) is the construction of an windmill turbine.

The most impressive thing about this windmill is the fact that most of it was constructed in someone's living room. The impetus for constructing this windmill is to come up with alternative ways to produce electricity. When EWB goes into communities for this purpose, they typically install solar panels or gas-powered generators. The problem arises when these devices break. These communities will most likely not have the technology to repair a solar cell. The generator is mechanical enough where the village might have the resources to do some work on it. But then there's the issue of supplying fuel, which may be hard to come by and expensive. The theory behind the windmill is that it's technologically simple and maintenance costs are small or non-existant. Sounds like a good solution to me. Of course, windmills need wind so this type of device isn't appropriate for every location. That's in addition to the fact that we still need to determine if this type of electrical generation is adequate for a community's needs. It's a work in progress but it gives us a chance to get our hands dirty and actually build something.

Like any non-profit organization, we are in desperate need of money. If you're interested in making a donation (it's tax deductable) you can go here and make sure you specify the Houston-Central chapter. Or you can go to fundable.org and play a little donation game.

This really wasn't meant to be a plea for money, as I tend to shy away from hitting up my friends (yes, you are all my friends) for donations. My main intent was to make everyone aware that an organization like this exists, and chapters can be found around the country. If you are an engineer, or anyone with any kind of skill (financial, marketing, fundraising, etc.) and would like to be involved, please visit the EWB-USA site and find out how you can participate. It's a great organization with a great vision and the more people that get involved, the more we can make a difference in the world.

---------------

Ok Sara, I did it. Now get off my back.

The pictures are finally in!

2005-11-02T20:23:00.000-06:00

Most of them, at least. This is a continuation of my previous post of the zero gravity plane ride I took. I've finally collected the photos from everyone who took'em (minus one person who's taking her sweet time). If you want to check them out (and I don't see why you wouldn't) you can find them here:
http://alwaysgoodtimes.smugmug.com/gallery/885577

Yes, mom, I'm still alive...

2005-10-31T22:18:00.000-06:00

It's been a few days since I last posted, a fact caused by a recurring case of carpal-tunnel in my right hand. Actually, it was caused by the insane amount of hours I spend in front of a computer on the average day which only goes to prove on point: I need to start using the mouse with my left hand. That, or just get more a life that involves talking to real people and not organizing my music over and over again in iTunes.

The title of this post is inspired by the fact that if I don't talk to my mother for more than a week she thinks I'm lying dead in a gutter somewhere. That, or that I no longer love her anymore and have forsaken my family. This is reflected in my favorite voice mail message of all time which I got one day while in college:
Me: Hi. I'm not home right now so please leave your name and message.
Mom: Hi Dave. It's your mother. Remember me?

Yes, mom, I remember you. I know she was joking. She knows she was joking. But deep down inside we both know that it wasn't completely a joke. That's what's so great about mothers (and fathers, too). They have this inate ability to both have a powerful influence on your life, one that you know you couldn't have survived without, while also possessing a vulnerability which we all know revolves around the fact that their lives would be empty without you in them. They know this. We know this. And we all bask in the fact that we have such an immense influence on each other's lives.

I think it goes further than love. We love each other for reasons I still haven't figured out (but appreciate greatly). This vulnerability stems from the knowledge that we are who we are only because of the people that helped us get this way. Gratitude? Self-awareness? Take away one person from the course of your life and the outcome would have been greatly different. My friends and family are important to me not because they are great people (they are) but because it's only through their strengths (and weaknesses) that I was able to evolve into the boggling creature that types these very words.

Maybe that is love.

Speaking of evolving and love, I got to attend my first catholic mass this weekend (a non-sequiter? You decide...). My friend was getting married up in College Station (that's deep in the heart of Aggie-land) and, seeing how she was Catholic, it was held in a Catholic church. I had such mixed emotions while sitting through the mass. One part of me wished I was part of it, wished I was a believer, just so I could become part of this great tidal wave of belief and inclusion and feel part of something bigger than myself. It wasn't a very big part, though.

The words that were spoken ultimately created more questions in my mind about the existance of God. And before I piss anyone off, I think I would have had the same questions had it been any other type of church or synagogue. I find that a good chunk of religion is trying (in vain) to live up to God's expectations. Or, at least, man's interpretation of what God's expectations are. I see too many contradictions that my brain can't fathom. The overall message I get is that we humans, by nature, are bad and it's all we can to do force ourselves to be righteous in the eyes of God. The problem is that I can't see why many of the things we do are wrong. I can't buy into something that tells me that who I am as a person is fundamentally bad.

I know I've brought up religion in the past and I know it's the quickest way to alienate your friends, but I'm a sucker for questions and I live for knowledge. And I hold nothing higher in this world than truth. I'm not saying that truth and religion are mutually exlusive. That would be both insensitive and close-minded on my part. Truth exists everywhere, both in the books we read in science class and the religions that guide most people in this world. They might be different flavors, but I believe that the underlying tenet of everything is truth. I'm just still looking for the bridge that gaps them all.

And if NASA knew I was writing blog entries while at work they'd have me fired...

Happy thought of the day: Getting dressed up for Halloween
Random quote of the day: "I used to cry for a world without laughter when all I had to do was create my own."

They did it again...

2005-10-23T22:43:00.000-05:00

For the record, I am not an Astro's fan.

I'll root for them because, as a resident of Houston (which doesn't necessarily make me a Houstonian), it's good to see the home team do well during the season and I'll be more than happy to support a winning team. I think they have some great players on their team and I wish them the best of luck as they make their way to their first ever World Series win.

However, they have just lost their second game to the White Sox and, like the first game, there was no reason why they should have lost this one other than their basic inconsistency. If they're going to keep up with this then they deserve to lose. That's harsh, yes, but someone has to say it. A World Series Champion does not pull the shit they are pulling and the don't deserve to win a thing until they pull themselves together.

And, no, I'm not just bitter because my Yankees had their season ended prematurely. I just can't stand it when an excellent team stumbles due to their own inconsistent inadequacies.

That being said...Go 'stros! It ain't over yet and I have faith you'll pull this together. Otherwise your presence, and the failure I'll forever associate with it, might be one more reason to get out of this unholy city. Right, like I needed another reason...

For some things there are no words

2005-10-16T20:36:00.000-05:00

Yet, I still look for them.

Last Friday, I floated. There's no other way to describe it. I floated in apparent weightlessness. Perhaps a little background is appropriate. Part of my training as a Flight Controller for NASA, particularly in medical operations, is to understand the conditions in which astronauts will be performing our activities. This is accomplished in an incredible way.

Everybody knows centripetal force. It's the force pulling an object toward the center of a circular path as the object goes around the circle. For instance, everytime you take a long curve while driving and your body feels like it's being pulled away from the turn, that's centripetal force. Now, imagine making that turn, but in a vertical plane. This is achieved by flying a plane in large, parabolic flight paths. At the crest of the parabola the occupants experience a period of weightlessness since the force of gravity is being counterbalanced by the centripetal force. NASA has been conducting this type of training for 30 years now and although the airplane used has changed a couple of times, the nickname for it has not. This vessel is affectionately called the Vomit Comet. The origin of this name should be self-explanatory.

After about ten months of being scheduled to fly and then being pulled due to mechanical issues, I finally got my opportunity on Friday. This was, hands down, the most incredible thing I've done in my life. All I can do is give you the physics of this experience, which I've done, because I don't truly know how to describe it otherwise. You know that feeling you get in an elevator during that brief time it takes for the cabin to deccelerate it's upward movement and come to a stop? For that almost instantaneous moment your body is still moving in the upward direction while the cabin is stopping you can feel, however slight, all weight being removed from your body. Imagine that lasting twentyfive seconds. Imagine being able to stand on your hands with absolutely no effort. Imagine watching your friends float past you with the littlest of effort.

My words do it no justice. Nothing will other than my memories of the parabolic-induced increased gravity followed by the sudden feeling of blood pooling in my head and floating off the ground. That's all it is. Floating. Pushing off the cabin floor and only stopping when my body was impeded by the ceiling. These periods of weightlessness only lasted about 25 seconds, but they were repeated 40 times. Still, not enough time to truly get used to the feeling but just enough to get addicted.
No, there really are no words that accurately describe this experience. There never will be. But I will always remember the day I got to pretend I was in space and float like an astronaut. For that, no words are necessary.

Members wanted

2005-10-10T22:53:00.000-05:00

I'm starting a "I Hate A-Rod" fan club/support group. If a group like this already exists then I would be proud to start a Houston area chapter. Either way, there needs to be a grass roots collective effort to direct hatred towards the man from all states within this great country of ours.

I look forward to the day when his contract is finally up and the Yankees get rid of him.

Happy thought of the day: At least the Astros are still in it...

Nocturnal Positions

2005-10-09T22:00:00.000-05:00

I'm a strange guy. Really. No way around that fact. I'm going to use this space today to prove that fact. I know, a lot of proof is not necessary. You can more or less assume that I'm on the far side of the line separating the normals from the not-so-normals. There are a few habits I have, however, that are relatively unknown by the masses and rightfully so. For instance, I have a tendency of doing some incredibly strange things in bed.

That last sentence was to gross out the members of my family who read this. Raise your hand if you want to know about my sexual habits...riiight. That would be none of you. Let's keep it that way. What I really meant, though, was that I do some really strange things while sleeping. Oh, I know...you're thinking that there's nothing extraordinary about this since most people have weird sleeping habits and there's a good chance you believe that there's nothing I can tell you that you haven't already done yourself. It's possible, but I think I can give you a run for you money here.

For instance, it's not uncommon for me to wake up with less clothing than I went to sleep with. Sure, you've done that. The shirt you had one when you went to bed is now bunched up on the floor next to you. Maybe it got a little warm at night and you took the time to wake up and take it off and then just forgot about it in the morning. Have you ever woken up with more clothing on than when you started? Yup. Done that.

The other day I woke up lying the wrong way on my bed. That is, the end of the bed where my feet were at night was the end of the bed where my head was in the morning. This is not uncommon. This recent activity was a special case. I was laying diagonal across my bed with a balled up t-shirt in the crook of my elbow, much like I was carrying a football. This case was explainable due to the dream I had right before I woke up. I was playing football and there was a fumbled ball so I picked it up and started running down the field. Hence the pose on my bed. Interesting.

My greatest achievement is bound to amaze you. I have not found one story that parallels what I accomplished one night. Keep in mind, I vaguely remember this so the details are hazy. For some reason, I woke up one night and decided that my bed need to be turned around. I then proceeded to get out of bed, rotate the sucker 180 degrees, and then hopped back into bed and didn't wake up until morning. Did I mention that I had no idea in the morning how my bed got turned around? Now you're asking how I knew that my bed was rotate since a bed rotated 180 degrees is remarkably similar to a bed rotated 0 degrees. That's were bed sheets come into play. Yes, my dear Watson, the bed sheets gave it way. Would that be considered sleep-redecorating?

The list goes on and on but you get the point. Weird stuff.

Happy thought of the day: Yankees won tonight, game 5 tomorrow!

Willie's the man!

2005-10-04T21:04:00.000-05:00

I like trees. I like grass. I like the lazy sun rising over outstretched limbs of tall pine trees early in the morning. The fact that Houston is becoming more and more of a concrete paradise surely doesn't help my lack of desire to be in this city. The bigger slap in the face is that I haven't found one hint of concern from any community about the unending sprawl that is increasingly stealing any natural beauty this area once had. In fact, in my eyes Houston is simply the gas-guzzling Hummer of the U.S., tearing up everything it crosses.

Texas is oil. There are few other reasons why any city in Texas would have been developed if oil was not present. I like my vehicles with high efficiency and low emissions. Texans don't seem to care. The bigger the better. Now, you can imagine why surprise last Sunday morning when I came across a morning show discussing a town outside of Dallas named Carl's Corner. It's a very small town, established only so one man, Carl, could set up a truck stop along a major highway. The town hasn't grown much over the years but it has become a haven for truckers making their way slowly across the long Texas countryside. Sadly, the man has encountered many hardships in his life, including the loss of three sons. During this time of crisis he was visited by a very special man who was able to convince him that the truckstop made a difference in the lives of every truckdriver who came on down the road. That man was Willie Nelson.

I bet you didn't know that Willie Nelson has a tour bus that is fueled by something called biodiesel. This is a type of diesel gas created through a chemical process starting with vegetable oil and/or animal fat. Yes, Willie Nelson is a die hard hippie. He understands the criticality of eliminating our dependence on foriegn oil by creating our own renewable fuels. This is a fuel that would reduce emissions of tractor trailers, or any deisel vehicle, by signficant amounts without the need to alter the vehicle to support the fuel! Let me restate that. One of the enormous obstacles of the so-called hydrogen economy is creating an infrastructurde that can actually support it. Forget about the technological barriers we face right now to even use hydrogen to power our vehicles, we can't even create or distribute it efficiently currently. On the other hand, we have at our disposal a fuel that can be mixed with petroleum-based deisel or used by itself in vehicles currently on the road without any modifications.

I don't believe that biodiesel is the answer to our problems but I do think it's a start. In fact, I can't think of any reason to not produce this stuff on a mass scale and distribute it thoughout the U.S. to put at truckers' disposal. Why aren't we doing it? Not to sound like a conspiracy theorest, but I'm thinking that it has something to do with the oil lobby. How could they possibly benefit from this? We're not talking about some type of alternative petroleum product. This is something that's going to come out of our farms and restaurants (yes, used cooking oil can be converted to biodiesel). The petroleum industry has a lot to lose if biodeisel gets a foothold in the economy. I can only hope that the needs and desires of the consumers will be strong enough to overcome any pressure this industry can put on Congress and the gas stations.

Spread the word. We still have hope. The oil industry will one day be a shadow of what it is today and for once the U.S. will have it's independence on foreign oil reduced significantly and our farmers will once again play a central role in the strength of this country.

It's that time again

2005-10-04T20:20:00.000-05:00

The Yankees are at it again. Let's get this show started.

Of Monkeys and Men

2005-09-28T22:25:00.000-05:00

I had a lot of time to think last week, mainly due to the fact that I was stuck in a house with two other people and we eventually ran out of conversation topics. That's not to say that a good time wasn't had by all. It's just that when you're on day three of Operation Survive Rita, morale is low and the your telltale ticks of cabin fever are making Jack Nicholson in The Shining look like Mr. Rogers.

I don't remember the reason for it, but the friend whose house I was staying out pulled out his physiology book from college and we got into an interesting conversation of how that subject is absolutely fascinating. Just the idea that the human body is comprised of billions of cells that are being regulated by countless hormones, neurotransmitters, and other assorted chemicals all with the sole purpose of keeping you alive and functional. The thing that blows my mind is that it works. I definitely could not have come up with something that clever.

It was the following discussion that really caught my interest. My friend proceeded to tell me that it was because of this utter complexity, the sheer magnitude of ingenuity and inventiveness, that goes into the human body that he believed we must have had a creater, a sole provider of life. Only an omnipotent God has the ability and foresight to create such a complicated organism capability of doing all that we, as humans, have learned to do over the ages. I should say that this friend of mine is a very intelligent college graduate with a degree in engineering, a man who is no stranger to scientific theory and process.

I find this incredibly interesting because my opinion on this matter just happens to lie on the polar opposite side of the spectrum of this debate. I even went so far as to claim that the complexity of the human body is proof that we have developed through evolution. Only through a step by step process could such intricate systems have developed to support our bodies. I have no trouble believing that vision is the result of millions of years of development in which a number of cells were altered, one by one, until the final result of sight was achieved through an extensive series of hits and misses. No primordeal being ever requested to have vision; it was through a process of hereditary mutations that the ability to detect light and dark (and eventually patterns, shapes, and faces) became a necessary attribute for survival. Rather, there was never an ultimate goal of sight. It was just the by-product of survival. If we still lived in a world in which humans did not control their environment and we did not exist on top of the food chain, it's possible this function would have continued to evolve. Perhaps our range of vision would have extended into the infrared range. Conjecture, at best, but my point is that everything we know to be ourselves has developed over time.

My question, and maybe others can enlighten me on this, is if we were created by an all-powerful being, why would it/he/she have made us so complicated? Presumably, this god-like figure could do whatever the heck it/he/she would like so why not create an organism with sight, hearing, verbal ability, etc. that did not require such complicated specifications and constraints? Why couldn't a person just see, without the need for a retina, an optic nerve, and the occipital lobe? Why couldn't we smell, without the need for a nose and all the sensor cells and nerves that come along with it? These are questions I know I'll never be able to answer though I look forward to hearing anyone's feelings on the matter.

Truthfully, I didn't intend this post to be an evolution vs. creationism ranting and raving. What I thought was most interesting was that two normal, intelligent people with roughly the same world view and education background, can have two absolutely different views on a topic. It's these differences that make us unique as individuals and human beings in general. You don't see dogs fighting about whether people should be allowed to own guns. However, it just shows to me that it will be a long time before certain topics of debate will be put to rest. Fundamental beliefs across an entire nation vary considerably and to get them all to eventually align may never happen. It's a fact I welcome with open arms and despise at the same time. Although we never totally agree on certain things we do have the opportunity to debate them and that's what distinguishes us as intelligent, regardless of where we came from.

Author of the day: Haruki Murakami
Happy thought of the day: The Houston summer is coming to an end

Not Quite There And Back Again

2005-09-25T16:17:00.000-05:00

Or
A Rube's Tale

01:00
The alarm clock didn't go off. After a quick check at the switch on the back of the clock I realized I forgotten to turn on the alarm. Fortunately, my body has the uncanny ability of knowing when it needs to wake up (though it's ability to keep itself awake isn't quite as impressive). At one o'clock in the morning the world outside is at it's most calm but today is like no other day. I hope appearances are not deceiving. Hopping out of bed I take a cursory glance around the room knowing that some of what I see lying around needs to be bagged for protection against water damage in case the roof leaks.

02:30
Everything is all packed. Since my original entourage to Austin had already pulled out this was to be a solo trip. No bother. That'll just enable me to pack even more things into my car. Truth is, I don't know if my apartment will be here when I get back. I was surprised to see how little space the things that really mattered to me occupied. My important documents, my photographs, a guitar, a computer, some clothing...all of questionable financial or personal value. However, I had the extra room, and I used that room to save a few extraneous items that I otherwise would have left behind.

I can't deny that my apartment has basically become a storage shed for the driftwood that has accumulated on the shores of my life. Everything in it had a memory attached to it though total destruction could never take that away. Some could be replaced, others could not, and still others I'm really better off without. Less clutter. I would never be able to replace everything in my apartment if it was lost, but my life would be far from ravaged if the clutter that makes up my personal possessions were permanately removed from my charge.

With my body half out the door, the light switch flipped to the "off" position, and the clicking sound of the deadbolt my journey to Austin had begun. Before closing the door I said goodbye to my apartment. I'm talking the kind of scene you see on your favorite prime time sitcom at the final moments of it's final episode, right before it fades to black. Lights go off and the door closes, never to be looked upon again. It's sad that pop culture has taken away the sanctity of what should have been a truly sincere moment. Instead, it's turned into a game of reality copying entertainment copying reality.

03:30
On the road.

The first 25 miles of my trip were uneventful. More traffic than I would have expected for the wee hours of the morning but nothing to get me nervous. I was surprisingly awake despite having woken up so early. The sleep shifting all week had finally come in handy. I encountered only modest traffic around the 45/610 interchange, the first sign of the mass exodus from Houston. Despite this traffic, I eventually made the exit onto 610 and encounter absolutely no traffic for approximately 15 miles. If only the whole trip had gone this well.

It was at this time that I hit the kind of traffic that can only be expected when the entire population of a city leaves at one syncronous moment. In this case, however, "leaves" is only an expression as no one was actually going anywhere. The nature of this evacuation had me believing that the lack of movement might actually be due to a traffic light somewhere in the Austin area. I had no reason to believe the line of vehicles ended anywhere between here or there.

04:30
Going nowhere.
05:30
Still going nowhere.
06:30
Wait, I think I'm...no, not going anywhere.
07:30
I hate traffic.
08:30
I mean I REALLY hate traffic.
09:30
Still hate traffic.
10:30
Getting really sick of Cheerios and Reese's Pieces
11:30
Getting tired. Took a nap while waiting in traffic.
12:30
Sure is getting hot outside. It's a good thing I have the air conditioning on.
13:30
Crap. Now I understand why everyone else has their AC off and windows open. Gas is getting to be an issue.
14:30
Windows open. Sweating a lot. Getting worried about gas. Started reading a book.
15:30
Almost half a tank left. At the next opportunity I'll get off the highway and start looking for a gas station.
16:30
Still waiting for that next exit. Only half a tank left. I'm in trouble. At this rate there's no way I'll make it to Austin without getting any gas. Man on the radio says that gas is hard to find these days in the area between Houston, Austin, Dallas, and San Antonio. That's a large area. I wasn't very worried about this trip before I left. Now I'm concerned. This could get very messy.

17:00
Gas is non-existant. I creeped my way off the highway in search of fuel. Every gas station in a 10 mile radius is empty. No, every station is empty, I only had the heart to search the 10-mile radius. This isn't going to happen.

The plug has effectively been pulled on my weekend. After much thought I've come to the rational conclusion that I have two options: 1) Continue on to Austin and stall on the side of the road or 2) Turn around. I'm not a happy camper. I've been waiting a long time for Austin City Limits and I'm getting screwed because a hurricane had to hit Houston at absolutely the worst time. That's not to say that there's ever a good time for a hurricane, but it's all relative. Next weekend would have been much better.

The sad fact is that the hurricane is only the catalyst for the dilemma I'm now facing. Weather isn't stopping me, or anyone, from making it to their final destination. It's the lack of gas. The traffic is horrible, true, but we all have time. It's the needle pointing to "E" that screws us in the end. I thought that leaving when I did was a good idea. I was wrong.

I know I can't go on. I see too many vehicles on the side of the road with very hot, uncomfortable, and scared people waiting for help to come. I see too many vehicles waiting at gas stations for a tanker to come because they have no other option, despite already knowing that no tanker is on it's way.

17:30
For the first time in fifteen hours I've gone above 10 mph. Not surprisingly, the roads are empty on the way back into Houston. With the car parked in a parking lot and the cell phone running out of power, I managed to find my refuge. A friend (and coworker) of mine had previously offered a room at his house in southwest Houston. Not the best place to be in a hurricane, but at this point I had no other options, apart from returning to my apartment.

On a side note, it was very relieving to know that all my friends were frantically calling each other making sure that everyone was safe. I had a lot of people worried about my little head for some time today and I'm grateful for that. Disasters are never so bad when you know you've gt someone looking out for you.

Not surprisingly, traffic was non-existant back into Houston. I would have been cursing up a storm out of my frustration and disappointment if I wasn't so incredibly tired. I figure at this point I must have slept about 4-5 hours over the past two days. I'm not sure how I made it this long, but I did and I was only surviving on the fact that it would all be over soon.

18:00
My travels are over. Having arrived at my friend's house I'm now in the position to mentally prepare myself for the worst. As you may notice, my final position does not differ too dramatically from my starting point, though I am far enough way to put me potentially out of harm's way.

Now it's just a matter of waiting this bastard out and seeing how we pull through in the morning.

...Friday Morning
If you followed the news you know that Rita was downgraded to a category 3 before hitting land just east of Houston, but this city in a much better situation. In fact, I woke up to a powerless house and some moderate wind outside. After all the citizens of Houston had been through, the hurricane that was expected to ravage the city had hardly left a dent. In only thing flying around in the wind now was relief. The city could once again breath easy.

The story does continue, mostly with a lot of commentary on what had transgressed during my day between the traffic and the disappointment of not making it to Austin. However, I will hold off from posting that until a later date, like tomorrow. This entry has become a monster in itself and I'm better off just making a clean break and continuing later with an aftermath debrief.

For all those interested, both myself, my friends, and all our stuff have survived the hurricane. No need to worry any longer; all is well once again in the city of Houston.

Update

2005-09-21T19:46:00.000-05:00

Forget what I said. It's now a Category 5 storm. This is going to be interesting.

The big one?

2005-09-21T16:05:00.000-05:00

To my loyal reader(s), family, and friends:

As you know I live in the questionably justifiable city of Houston, TX. As you may have noticed, heading in our direction is the incarnation of the wrath of God, otherwise known as Hurricane Rita. Don't worry your pretty little heads off over me. As we speak I am in the process of moving most of my worldly possessions into the trunk of my VW Jetta. Sadly, the actually do fit into the trunk of a VW Jetta.

Now, Rita is currently a category 4 storm heading straight for downtown Galveston with an eye on really fucking up Houston. Even hurricanes hate Houston. Are we looking at another New Orleans type disaster? I hope not. For one, that was a category 5 storm and, with any luck, we won't reach that point. Also, New Orleans is 20 feet below sea level. Houston is at least 20 feet above sea level, not to mention about 20 miles inland. That being said, this will not be a walk in the park. There will be some serious damage in Houston, especially the area in which I live which is closer to the coast.

Most of the communities in this area have imposed mandatory evacuations. My neighborhood has not though if I cross the street from my apartment I'd pretty much be in one of those zones. As you can tell, an imaginary line separating one zone from another is not going to save my apartment. I live on the second floor so I'm not concerned about flooding. I see to worst case scenarios: 1) flying debris smashes my windows, soaking everything in the apartment and 2) the incredibly strong winds blow the roof of my questionably well built apartment complex, causing water to cascade from the 3rd floor to my apartment. A third scenario does exist, being the combination of the two, but it's too tragic to even think about so I won't mention it.

And for those of you who think that I'd be stupid enough to ride out the storm you should have more faith in my. Two million Houstonians can't be wrong, and if they're heading out of town, who am I to argue with them? As a fortunate coincidence, I was already planning on heading to Austin this weekend for the annual Austin City Limits festival. The good news is that I have a hotel for Friday and Saturday night's already. The bad news is that I have nothing for tonight or tomorrow and, although the concert will go on, it's going to be mighty wet. Throw in the fact that I've been working the midnight shift this week (the Johnson Space Center has been officially evacuated so no more work for me this week) and I've been so busy with departure preparations that I've only gotten about one hour of sleep in the past 24 hours. The plan right now is to finish up packing, take a little nap, and leave. Where I go, I'm not entirely sure. I'll probably head to Austin and find myself a place to stay. It's really not planned out so well. However, I can bum a hotel room tomorrow night and then I'm good to go.

This may be the last entry I write in some time, depending on how this plays out. The computer will be with me but will be quite useless, seeing how it'll be in the trunk of my car. If all goes to plan, I'll come back late Sunday evening and my apartment will still be here. I haven't begun to think of the alternatives.

The important part, though, is that you should now I'll be safe. Assuming, of course, that I get through the traffic out of Houston. I know this really isn't the best way of telling everyone but I'm a little rushed to get out of here and time is limited. I'll try to make a few calls during the guaranteed long car ride I have ahead of me. Feel free to call me and keep me awake. All I know it's going to be an interesting weekend. Until next time...

-Dave

When the moon hits your eye

2005-09-19T03:08:00.000-05:00

Yes, this is my second post in one night. You're going to see a lot of that this week. Working the wee hours of the night is dangerous. Not only is it the breeding ground for strange philosiphical thoughts but it also affords me plenty of opportunity to record them here. Just wait until Friday morning when I've been at this for a week. You'll be amazed at some of the things I can come up with.

As it is, I just wanted to mention one more reason why I work here. I try not to write about work too much because I know most people don't care about and those who do get enough of it at work where they don't need to read about it here. Them's the breaks...it's my blog, I'll do what I want. Oriting the Earth about 250miles above our heads is the International Space Station. Attached like barnacles to this structure you'll find numerous video cameras which, given the right satellite coverage, beam footage to the ground. Tonight I got to see such footage. In it's relentless race around the globe the ISS picks up many objects with its cameras, the moon being one of them. Tonight I got to see the station out run the Moon causing our only natural satellite to appear to set behind the Earth. For lack of better words, it was magnificent. As the moon started dipping into the bright haze of the sunlit Earthly atmosphere, it's outer limbs melted into the light that outshone the fullness of it's face. It only took a few seconds before it disappeared entirely.

I don't feel so bad about having to stay up all night anymore.

Late night thoughts

2005-09-19T02:36:00.000-05:00

Yes, it's true. The day has finally come when it's been agreed by all that I am capable of working in Mission Control all by myself. It took a lot of hard work and about two years of my life but I've finally made it.

Quick recap for the uninitiated: Grad school in Boston-->Houston to work at NASA-->Training as a Biomedical Flight Controller (fancy term for person who makes sure astronauts are still healthy while in space).

Am I nervous? A little. Confident I'll do a good job? Sure. The toughest thing I've discovered around here is determining the difference between they way my coworkers do something and the right way of doing it. Ah, before my coworkers get offended at this statement I will explain. First, let me say that I have nothing but respect for those with whom I work. They do an excellent job performing their duties and putting up with the many things we do. The simple fact, though, is that despite us performing the same duties we all have our unique ways of doing them. I've found that one of the most significant aspects of my training was being able to wean proper procedure from the final product, wound tightly with subtleties and personal flavor. But isn't that true for most things in life? Truth is relative, but basic fact is absolute. Everything we receive in life has been altered by the giver, changed in such a way as to hide its true nature. It's an unavoidable fact of life and not necesarily something to be wary of. However, it's critical to understand this fact in everything you do. Question everything, accept nothing at first glance. Only by knowing the fundamental nature of something can you fully understand the basic fact at its core.

But what do I know? It's 3am and I still have another four hours of work ahead of me.

Part of the Solution

2005-09-17T00:57:00.000-05:00

Before you get excited, this has nothing to do with solving the puzzles. There's still time for that. No, this is actually related to my recent switch to a new power company. Bear with me on this one.

Up until now, like most people in this country, the electricity I received came from a mixture of coal, natural gas, and nuclear power sources. Not one of those is so great for the environment. In fact, they are all pretty damn shitting over the long term. Coal is one of the dirtiest form of electricity production and what nuclear power lacks in carbon production it makes up in radioactive waste that will survive everyone of us. The current solution is to store it in mile long tunnels in a mountain in New Mexico and even that will probably not happen. All in all, not the greatest way of doing it.

Just a few days ago I switched to Green Mountain Energy. I don't know how it works in your state, but here in Texas you have your choice of energy suppliers. Every one of them produces electricity that goes into a large pool of community power referred to as "the grid". The consumer then uses electricity from the grid and pays the producer of their choice. So, technically, you end up using power from all types of sources but your money just goe s to one. Clear? Green Mountain Energy produces 100% of their electricity from water or wind power.

Why water or wind? Because it does not produce any pollution. A couple of years ago Green Mountain completed what is currently the largest wind farm in the U.S. I suggest checking out the link. The sheer size of these windmills will shock you. Granted, that is definitely one of the drawbacks of these type of production. The turbines are large and the farms take up a very large area of land. On the other hand, west Texas has a vast abundance of empty land and, if given the choice between a nuclear or coal power plant and a wind farm, I'd choose the wind farm. There's something magical about 160 wind turbines spinning effortlessly in the wind. I won't bore you with the statistics and I won't claim that 100% of our energy should be produced by wind, but it definitely is a method that should gain a foothold in this country considerin the current state of environmental damage and non-renewable resources.

I don't like pollution and I believe that this country is far behind in environmental causes than it should be. There's also nothing you can tell me to make me believe that we are holding ourselves back technologically from attaining a much greatly improved energy infrastructure. I'm not saying it's a conspiracy but between Congress and private industry there are a lot of people benefitting from the continuing usage of fossil fuels. Renewable energy is our future. The question is just how long will we put it off?

New Clues!

2005-09-15T10:48:00.000-05:00

After multiple pleas for help I've decided to provide more clues to my painfully easy puzzles that no one seems to be able to solve.

Puzzle #1:
I'm going to make this easy for everyone. The boy is speaking Spanish. What else is the boy doing? Building a gingerbread house? House? Hmm...what is the spanish word for house?

Puzzle #2:
This one is admittedly difficult. A lot of synonyms in this one. What's sticking out the most in the picture? Cartman's ass, of course. Let's play some word association with this one. Ass..butt...booty...Hmm, what other words come to mind?

Why would he write a poem? Seems rather strange, doesn't it? What's another word for poem?

I'm giving up on Puzzle #1 after this. If you can't get it with that clue then I might as well just tell you the answer. Puzzle #2...well, hopefully this will get you moving in the right direction at least.

Good luck!

Addendum

2005-09-13T23:22:00.000-05:00

In the name of fairness, I should probably mention that the fact that I did not contact the very nice girl for a week was probably not the only reason for our lack of a third date. Truth is, it could have been due to a number of other reasons and this just happened to be a good segue to nothingness. Would I have liked to see her again? Sure. But if it's not meant to be, then it's not meant to be. Life shall go on.

On another note, I noticed that no one is solving my puzzles, though I have had some creative feedback on them. This is not good. Expect some more clues in the next few days. You'll get the answers even if I have to walk you through them...

I blew it...big time

2005-09-12T21:06:00.000-05:00

For those of you who are concerned, I am finally pulling away from the clutches of the virus whose unholy presence occupied my body last week. I thought it was a cold. It was quite possibly the flu, which is strange because I'm not usually susceptable to the flu. Either way, it sucked, and it came at the worst possible moment. Last week was my final check out week for Mission Control. To save you all the unnecessarily boring details, as of Saturday I am now allowed to work in Mission Control by myself. No more people watching over me, making sure I don't screw up. Now, if I screw up, only I'll be there to fix it. As you can imagine, it was crucial that I perform to my highest potential last week and being sick did not help at all. Fortunately, it turns out that I'm so good at what I do that even in my incapacitated state I still shone. Damn I'm good...

But I said that I blew it, and I'll tell you why. I've told you about my two previous run ins with the very nice girl. That might be the end of it. Being sick and all, I have absolutely no ability to function outside of those processes necessary for life. That includes getting my ass of the couch after work and making any phone calls. You see where I'm going with this? I had told the very nice girl via email that I was sick early in the week. Then I proceeded to not have any contact with her the rest of the week. I never would've thought that this kiss of death would be my only kiss in the relationship. History has taught me that in order to have a healthy relationship one must actually communicate with the other person. I neglected to do that. In my defense, it was enough of an challenge to move myself from the couch to the bed. Even if I did call her it would have gone something like this:

Me: Hi there very nice girl.
VNG: Hi Dave.
Me: ugh, my body hurts.
VNG: Freak. Never call me again.

I've since tried contacting her. I'll let you know how it goes...

But like every cloud, there is a silver lining. Being sick last week afforded me the time to watch a few movies, like I Heart Huckabees, Stripes, and The Fellowship of the Ring and The Two Towers. There's nothing bad I can say about the last two. I Heart Huckabees is a great movie. One of those films that you watch and think, "what the hell did I just watch?" If Vin Diesel is your favorite actor I'd stay away from this one. Stripes is just classic Bill Murray. Can't go wrong with that. But the high point of the week was when everything was said and done and it was time to celebrate with a nice little barbecue amongst friends and coworkers. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I may be disgusted by much of what Houston stands for, but they sure can barbecue down here.

My coworker and friend has a smoker in his back yard. Due to his dedication and love of smoking, he cooked up some incredible brisket, chicken, and an obscene amount of sausages. The only thing more obscene was the sight of us ramming them down our throats. But they were good, damn good. It wasn't until I got down to Texas did I realize that I had never truly barbecued before. I had grilled. I had used a barbecued to cook burgers and sausages and an assortment of various types of meat and meat product. True barbecuing, never. When the day finally comes for me to leave Texas (not soon enough) I will look back with a tear in my eye at the sight of a brisket covered in bbq sauce.

Side dish of the day: Mashed potatoes

There's a spikey armadillo in my throat

2005-09-07T17:39:00.000-05:00

At least, that's what it feels like. That's in addition to the intense gravitational field surrounding my body making me weight six times I normally would. Did I mention the magnetic field that's screwing with my synapse slowing them down to a snail's pace?

Of course, it just happens to be a coincidence that this may just be on of the most important weeks of my two plus years here in NASA. Pure coincidence. It's a good thing it's only a four day week. Plenty of time on the weekend to recuperate. What's that? I had to work on Monday? Oh yeah. Five day week. No problem. At least there's the weekend. Except for the fact I'll be working on Saturday. Oh boy...it's a long week.

Quote of the day: We have so much time, and so little to do! Strike that, reverse it.

Big sisters rock!

2005-09-05T22:59:00.000-05:00

Really, need I say more? Especially when they want to know why I don't show this side of myself more often in real life. Can you imagine bringing up some of this stuff in conversation on a regular day? :) I'm glad I can give you a glimpse into my mind. Though, once you start into it there's no turning back...

Fun tip of the day: Dig a hole or two in a friend's yard and they'll make you dinner!

Status Report

2005-09-04T22:27:00.000-05:00

In keeping in line with the Sunday-only social life, date #2 with the very nice girl was tonight. In addition to continuing to be very nice I also learned that she also has a cute laugh.

She was also spared another date-by-committee as most of my friends didn't actually attend the comedy show tonight. Good for us, not so good for the group the money was going towards.

Will there be a date #3? Tune in and find out!

Recommended movie of the day: I ♥ Huckabees

Guys do NOT have diaries

2005-09-03T20:15:00.000-05:00

Crap. I think this has officially become my diary. It was never meant to be but this is the first thing I come to now when there's something on my mind. Second to friends, of course, but when they are not around, this is it.

The reason why I write that is because I have this interminable feeling of weight on my mind tonight that started somewhere around hour 1.5 at the mall today. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I just hate being in the mall. Ever since, though, I've been feeling downright horrible. Not sick, not depressed, no weary. Lost. That's probably the best way of describing it. I have this terrible feeling of my head spinning at a million miles an hour and it doesn't know where to stop. Or, rather, it has countless places to stop but doesn't know which is correct. It probably stems from the fact that is supposed to be a fun three day weekend and 1) I have to work on Monday and 2) I have nothing incredibly fun planned for tomorrow (or today for that matter). Not that this is something new. Usually I'm content with doing my own little thing. Not today. There's either something terribly wrong with the world or I have an internal chemical imbalance. I'm voting for chemical imbalance for everyone else's sake but I'm not taking any bets just yet. I'm willing to chalk it up to inhaling too much mall atmosphere. That stuff will kill ya'...

What really gets me, and I realize this, is that I feel like I wasted my entire day with work and the mall. I hate wasting my days though I couldn't tell you what else I would've done. No, I probably could tell you. There are a hundred things. That's what bothers me. There's too much to do and not enough good weekends to do them on and I feel like I'm blowing this one. I put WAY too much pressure on myself. Weekends are supposed to be fun and if too much emphasis is put on them being fun, they stop being fun.

Tonight I'm off with some friend(s) and an assortment of others that I don't know to have something. Fun? A beer? I hope so, but probably not in that order :)

Mood of the day: sideways

On a high note, I have date number two tomorrow night with the very nice girl. I'm really looking forward to it because, as it turns out, she's a pretty cool person. Let's hope she feels the same about me :) Let's also hope she's not reading this because that might be awkward...

It's go time

2005-09-01T21:17:00.000-05:00

Living in the Northeast for most of my life, I thought I had experienced some pretty severe weather. From the intense heat of summer to the blur of interminable blizzards, I have lived through some mighty impressive stuff. At least, so I thought. The minute I got to Houston I understood that I had never known what heat and humidity really was. Blizzards, well, are blizzards and will never be experienced in Houston. With blizzards, though, you end up maybe missing work, crashing your car, and losing power for a few days. Trivial impacts, nothing to be remembered as anything more than a slight inconvenience in the long run.

Welcome Hurricane Katrina. In New York we used to experience hurricanes, meaning that once they hit land somewhere around the Carolinas they eventually wandered up to the Northeast where they manifested themselves as a strong rain storm. Laughable, really. At least it is to the 25,000 people who will be coming to Houston over the next few days from New Orleans where everything they considered to be their lives is now under 20 feet of water. Another 25,000 will be making their way to Austin and it's anyone's guess where the others will go. The lucky ones escaped with the bare essentials: their lives and the lives of loved ones. The unlucky ones will be remembered as tragic casualties of a terrible event.

As a resident of Houston, I have the opportunity to volunteer my time to help out with all these displaced victims. I urge you to do what you can to help out. I know money is tight. It's always tight, especially with gas prices skyrocketing the way they are. But we have the luxury of buying gas, the luxury of driving, and the luxury of living normal lives. I know my readership is very modest, but I ask all of you to spread the word to your friends, post a request on your blogs, or do whatever it is you think will get people to make donations. From what I hear, monetary donations to the American Red Cross is really your best bet at this point.

Please, do what you can. Houston will be struggling for a while to support their new residents and we would all appreciate your help.

That's me without the Santa hat on

2005-08-31T22:02:00.000-05:00

For those of you who question the veracity of my claims of working in Mission Control here in Houston (who would lie about living in Houston?) I now have undeniable proof! As a testament to the power of Google (let us now bow down to the Google gods) I did a search using the following phrase: "mission control photo". On the first page of image results I came across the following photograph:

It's like a Where's Waldo book. Here's a task for those of you who know me personally. Submit a comment verifying that what I claim is true: that I am indeed in this picture. As a bonus, please point out to all those readers who haven't had the good fortune of meeting me which of these characters is me, using as many adjectives as you feel necessary. Here are some suggestions: handsome, studly, wicked cool, and hunka-hunka burning love. Please, for everyone's sake, do not hold back.

Quote of the day: What's the matter Colonel Sanders? Chicken!?!

Thought of the day: Sometimes I'm at my happiest when I totally submerge myself in my own little world. There's always room for others, it's even encouraged, but only if they can stand the Salvador Dali inspired architecture of my mind.

Puzzle Clues

2005-08-31T21:39:00.000-05:00

It occurred to me that I might be throwing you head first into these puzzles. Truth is, they aren't very easy. Only one person has gotten the correct answer for the first puzzle, with one other person pointing out that they are too difficult. I'll split the difference and say they are mildy tough. But, that being said, I will also provide a clue or two to get you rolling. I'd rather have you getting them with help than not getting them at all. To begin with, at least...

Puzzle #1:
Most things you see are not there by coincidence (apart from the occasional red herring). For instance:
a) Why is Spanish being used? Perhaps you can tie that in with what else is in the picture...
b) Why are there ghosts and what are they saying? Is that significant? Maybe.

Lastly, it might be useful to come up with various 10-letter movie titles and work backward from there. Like I said, only one person has come up with the answer and, although she is wicked smart, the puzzle isn't too hard. You can do it!

Puzzle #2

2005-08-30T21:57:00.000-05:00

I only got a smattering of responses for the last one. I expect more from everyone. Here's another one:

Ode to a summer's day

2005-08-28T17:30:00.000-05:00

A summer's walk I did take
in the park along the lake.
Gravelly trails and flora green,
were among the things I had seen

A squirrel's romp through the trees,
the moist air from the west wind's breeze.
The soil dark and the sky so bright,
made for a very calming sight.

All these things, so summer real,
hid the surprise that made me feel
a feeling that I could not foresee,
I had the crap scared out of me.

Golden spiders with legs of eight
hung from threads in the sun's bright light.
Webs as large as an open umbrella
bodies as hairy as a two ton gorilla.

Their many eyes staring me down
Their many bodies were all around.
My head, my body, my soul just shaking
I've never seen a spider quite so intimidating

These eigth-legged monsters gathered 'round,
my mouth agape made not a sound.
I had thoughts of Bilbo at my side
Because then I wouldn't have to run and hide.

But, alas, good friends, I did escape,
into the clearing with nary a scrape.
With collective voice did the spiders erupt,
they said, "you come back, we'll fuck you up!"

Dedicated to the very nice girl

2005-08-28T01:18:00.000-05:00

I had myself a nice long, wet evening down in Rice Village in the company of a very nice girl. I also had ten of my friends with their noses up against the window watching me being in the company of a very nice girl. The very nice girl was also a good enough sport to pretend that she was having a horrible time to amuse the ten of my friends with their noses up against the window. I could tell she was just pretending. Did I mention she was a very nice girl?

On a side note, for once the Houston rain finally came in handy.

Quote of the day: Sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don't.

Book of the day: Blink, by Malcolm Gladwell. Recommended for those who enjoy learning that what you think isn't always what you really think.

Show me your smarts

2005-08-27T01:39:00.000-05:00

I promised it so here you go. I actually got the idea of these from Games magazine. In fact, the example puzzle was stolen from them though I had to recreate the cartoon. Simply put, these are cartoon rebuses. Elements from each of cartoons can be combined to form the desired answer, of which the category and number of letters are given above the cartoon itself. Be warned: not everything you see will be used and some of those things that will be used aren't always intuitive. For example, the answer to the first puzzle:

is Vanity Fair (Van-it-E Fare). If that wasn't clear enough, I'll break it down even further: Van (moving van)-it (the word "it")-E (the letter "E" on the van)-fare (the cost of the taxi). That's how it goes. I'll leave another one for you to mull over. If I get enough responses I'll post a few more. Some of you have already seen this stuff so please refrain from posting the answer. In fact, why don't you just send me an email with your guesses instead of posting a comment though you're welcome to submit a plea for help there. The first person to send me the correct answer (guessing won't cut it, I want the breakdown of the answer) will get a prize of my choosing. Fare enough?

Puzzle #1:

CLUES!

Out of mind experience

2005-08-24T21:58:00.000-05:00

It occurred to me that I completely went astray on what I had intended to be the topic of my previous post, two posts ago. That's just a testament to the magnitude of the head ache I had that night. For those of you concerned, I finally made it to sleep at 3am and made it to work at 9. (this is where you pretend you were concerned).

What I had touched upon, and what I expect to continue here, was that the separation between mind and body is just that, a separation. We've evolved over millions of years, adapting to our environment, developing socialization skills (true for most people), and generally becoming overall good citizens of our respective countries. Over this time our congizance went from "ugh, rock" to "ugh, look, a rock". Admittedly, not a large advancement but enough to bring us such wondrous things such as fire, train engines, and the Slinky. Contrary to what the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy might say, we are far superior to mice in the sense that we don't eat our young though I've never seen a mouse jump on a chair when they saw a human in a room. Dolphins, on the other hand, are definitely giving us a run for our money on aerodynamic sleekness and overall cuteness. Ultimately, though, we trump them all with that ever so important detail that has really let us blossom from our earliest ancestors into the technological masters we are now: the burrito. Opposable thumbs have also come in handy.

What I'm getting to, however, is what is commonly considered the cherry on our sundae, the creamy center of our Twinkie, the chocolate chip in our cookie: our brains. Now, I'm not saying this applies to everyone because, frankly, I've known a few people with, well, a shortage of chocolate chips in their cookie if you get my drift and, although capable of not setting back the species, will not advance us any. On the whole, however, I think we're doing quite well. We've got this incredibly system of nerves bundled up in our heads more complicated than the New York subway system which we may never understand. How's that for a quandary? It's possible that we're being run by something that we are incapable of ever understanding. That would be God laughing at us.

If you're looking for a point to this ramble then keep looking...it's bound to turn up soon.

As I sat on my couch in utter agony the other night I was faced with the realization that I had absolutely control of my body. Usually, I am grateful for this fact since I have no desire to be consciously aware of every breath I take, every eyelid I blink, and heart contraction that keeps me alive and able to write dribble like this. Whoever designed that part was a genius (no, that was not an endorsement of intelligent design...I'll get to my feelings on that another time). What stuck me as, well, annoying (for lack of a better word) is that not only do I have no control over those functions, but we're severely limited elsewhere. I can flex some muscles. Not all of them, just enough to get me from place to place and lift a few heavy weights ever now and then. What I couldn't do was convince myself that the excruciating muscle cramping occuring in my neck the other night was something I could have done about. If my brain is so smart (at least smarter than my phone) then why couldn't I have decided to release whatever muscles were out of whack and let me sleep?

I know enough about physiology to understand that nothing is ever that simple. A muscle cramp isn't just a muscle cramp. It all has to do with chemical imbalances, stress, and over acting nerve fibers (reminds me of professional wrestling). I just don't see why my body couldn't have better resource management and fix that bastard up, or why my brain wasn't able to resolve it.

The moral of the story is this: you have absolutely no control over what your body does. Anything you consider to be free will is just a nerve have a seizure in the inner depths of your brain and your body doing something because of it. That ice cream cone you had the other day: too much seratonin. The car trip you took to Vegas with your best buddies and the one-legged hitchhiker named Misti with the lazy eye and totebag full of nachos? Not enough dopamine. Even everything I write here is just a consequence of something funky going in my body, most likely due to the week old sushi I had for dinner.

So, for those of you go-getters out there fighting to make your own destinies, be warned. Your body has basic driving needs and your life is simply a consequence of that. By no means am I telling you to give up, sit back, and enjoy the ride. Just be aware that what you think is your personality is simply an unconscious construct leading you towards that next chocolate chip.