Monday, July 31st, 2000
Edited by common sense... This was a day where I worked fairly confident of my continued employment at my present employer.
Tuesday, August 1st, 2000
Happy Birthday, Emily. My sister is {mumble mumble}. Hey, she's married. It's her husband's job to annoy and embarrass her now...
Wednesday, August 2nd, 2000
The Beginning of the End.
The PHB calls me into his office today. Says we're just not "clicking" and he's decided to "nudge me from the nest". His nudge consists of a size eight loafer right up the old keister. My last day in the office is August 11, but there are other considerations which I cannot elaborate on. I will state that I'm being treated very fairly, all things considered. We'll leave it at that. While I originally wanted to use this as a platform from whence to launch my flamethrower attack, cooler, wiser, and wittier heads prevailed. For now, I must ponder the direction I'm taking.
Thursday, August 3rd, 2000
Well, that's just about the single most uncomfortable thing I've ever done, and let me remind you that I have sat through not only a C-section childbirth, but also gynecological appointments where I quite literally felt like a standard Minnesota woodduck in the rainforest jungle. I shall never again complain about 'turn your head and cough, please' no matter how cold the hand.
Anyway - walked into the office, and three or four people congratulate me. I forget momentarily for what, and ask why - they think I'm joking. Then they ask where I'm going. With the first one, the decision was made by my mouth, not my head. I tell her "I'm not sure where the hell I'm going. If you know of anything, let me know." With the second one, I'm a little more forthcoming. She asks "what opportunity I have" and I tell her that the opportunity is one to sink or swim. I keep telling myself the line my old boss used to use - "To every adversity there is an equal or greater benefit." I damned well hope so. I spend about 80% of my day pounding through former contacts from old workplaces, recently departed friends from this office, and leaning on some of my vendors. I am reminded by a friend of mine of his typical saying when adversity strikes - "To every adversity there is an equal or greater benefit". I certainly hope he's right.
Now that I've got this site, and hopefully it's cathartic enough for me, I hope to be able to move on. Once that happens, I'll update this with more fun information. Until then, check out This site or this one. If they're still there, that is. Apple's already suing various "John Does" for stealing trade secrets. Like they're worth the dots on a monitor...
Friday, August 4th, 2000
Well, now. I knew that when I left the company, I'd have to sign something, but the separation agreement they have placed in front of me is mumble pages long, and offers me mumble for mumble provided I keep my trap shut and agree not to sue. Damned curious, that. I'm offered to pass through the door as an employee one last time, and in reward for hauling my loutish carcass off the premises, I'm to be "compensated". Well.
I suppose some of you are wondering wherefore I dare abuse the poor people who use Apples. I'm not. I'm not even grinding the axe to wallop those poor folks who don't know any better. My chief complaint with the Mac-ite Jihadniks is the same that I have with the NT-ite Jihadniks, the rabid Linuxen, and those others who cling to their chosen operating system with the fervor of a battlefield berserker zealot.
For illustration, allow me this brief example. Young man whom I hired said "I like Macs. I started working with Macs and got good at it, and now people pay me. I like Macs, but I'm not one of those people who has to know why this does this or that does that. I have to enjoy my work. If they stopped making Apples next week, I'd probably retire and start that vineyard in Napa Valley." Good, level-headed attitude. Me, I prefer machines that work, and I bloody well better know why they do what they do when they do that. Interesting, I find it.
But the PHB Macite Jihadnik I work for has, with no rhyme nor reason, leapt into the fray with the complete conviction that can only come from ignorance. He chortles at the thought of shutting down a perfectly good and functional system, and replacing it with a weak and unreliable one.
Well, now I've got to do laundry. I live in an apartment and do it the Man's way - fire up four or more washers at once, and use my power-shout sprayer (small garden pressurized sprayer which works very well when pumped up and the nozzle is cranked WAY down - $10 at Frank's nursery and crafts). Power wash, power dry, and then limp at putting it in the closets. Ugh.
Saturday, August 5th, 2000
What a day. Actually very good. Arose early and checked out the net (after going to bed VERY late). Spent time looking around, and then got ready for the Farmer's Market. I read Dr. Keyboard and his regular jaunts through the South of France markets. Ours aren't quite nearly as charming. The farmer's market we hit on Saturday mornings is just off 35W South in Burnsville, along Burnsville Parkway, in the parking lot of the old Diamondhead Mall. It's been converted into a partial campus for the Burnsville schools to put their senior high school students somewhere (the high school's too bloody small any more). So...
We show up, and it's a neat mix. First we run into some friends who we know through Girl Scouts - good people. He recently had a traffic accident while driving for the construction company he works for - seems someone cut him off, and then slammed on their brakes. In this state, they assume that you're at fault for any accident where you strike a vehicle in front of you. So, he was terminated and then told that they'd rehire him as a mechanic. Cut his pay by $11,000 a year. Ouch. Two kids, house payments, etc., and they have only $46 in the grocery budget a month. We include them in our nightly prayers.
Then, we rush to the grocery store to pick up other fresh fruit/veggies we can't get at the Farmer's market, and find that Lettuce has doubled in price over the last week. Great - passed up a bag at the FM because it looked a little less than perfectly ripe. Could have saved 30 cents. That might be important later on...
So, then we go to mine sister's birthday party. Good food, some weird games, and other assorted bits of fun. Re the weird games - my sisters, somewhere, picked up this habit of playing "the dice game". You get two bowls, plates, or pie pans, and four dice. Pair up the dice, and pass the bowls/whatever with the dice in them. Your task is to roll the dice. Should you get doubles, you grab a bag from the pile in the middle. All identical or nearly so. Pass the dice on around the circle. After all bags are taken, a timer is set. You start the game over, but this time steal from one another when you get doubles. After three minutes, you stop, and open the bags.
Nine times out of ten, the bags contain something acquired at the local "Dollar or less" store. Neat gadgets, and such, but nothing hugely valuable. However, occasionally, you get a good thing. Now, one advantage we have is that my sisters have learned that my children do not like losing. Further, they like less when people steal from them, so they usually lose only one or two packages before getting mad about it - and people usually then stop stealing from them. So, in the end, my kids come home with a package of star wars underwear each (I think they ended up getting those either in trades or flat out given to them), as well as various candy bits, a yoyo, a mini-lantern flashlight, and a rocket which is launched with pressurized air/water. Flew all of three times, two of them less than four inches, and one all of six feet. Not a marvel of modern engineering. Since it was assembled from plastic parts, it's not surprising that mine son broke it in about 30 minutes.
After that, and a huge cake my mother baked and decorated (she can make beautiful flowers out of frosting - I'd tell you the secret, but I'm considering going into business with the methodology) a cake - fortunately, they didn't put all of the candles in it so we were OK there. Then, I apparently fell asleep for some time, and following that, we had to run off to church.
I'm not typically a very religious person. I believe in God, certainly, and I've got plenty of evidence which I have interpreted as proof enough for me that God exists. I also work with a gentleman who does not, and that's fine - that's up to him. I'm not going to cast asparagus on anyone's beliefs. But I'm Roman Catholic despite sixteen years of Catholic education (oh, stop laughing), and growing up in one of the most catholic areas of the country.
So, we went to church. And, during Mass, I found that I finally "GET" the transfiguration, and the whole "this is My Body" business.
After reading Stranger in a Strange Land I asked my father, in the relative bloom of youth (stupidity) why the Catholic Church WASN'T condoning cannibalism. He said "If you didn't cover that in school, then you're just not getting it." There's an answer you can deposit. So, I ignored the whole thing.
While in church, I finally came through with an interpretation which I can understand. As the Head of the Church, we follow Christ. As He is the Leader, the Head, we follow him, as the Body of the Church, and as such, we break bread to remind us that we share a common heritage.
Theologians be warned - don't mess me up on this one, OK? Thanks!
Sunday, August 6th, 2000
Last night, I experienced the lowest moment I could ever experience as a parent, short of one of my kids dying.
My son is a very sweet young boy. He shares, he's gentle and generous, and he's very loving. He's also got a mischievous streak about thirty-six inches wide. Given the fact he's just recently topped forty inches in height (went from yardstick to tape measure for measurement), that makes him almost totally a little demon... at times.
So, the little guy was getting ready to go to bed and we went to the bathroom to brush teeth, wash faces, etc. And lo and behold, there's softsoap all over the countertop. We immediately check - Rhiannon claims not to have done it, and stares me right in the eye without blinking while saying it - I don't know if it works or not, but I couldn't lie to my parents using that method. She seems to be of similar cloth. Jack claims to have had nothing to do with it "except" for the fact he's done this sort of thing before. We repeatedly question him, he claims, with less and less conviction, that he's innocent. We assume guilt, blame the little guy, and put him to bed, and are quite firm that he shouldn't lie.
Several hours later, after watching the "Trekkies" Documentary by Denise Crosby, we go to bed. During the course of this, my wife discovers the thing which makes both of us feel about two inches tall. A crack at the bottom of the soap dispenser, which allows the soap to leak. Jack had nothing to do with it.
When he awakes, we apologize profusely, allow him the choice of breakfast foods ("Peanut Butter Swammich" is his choice - I would have made Dad's super-special omletts, should he have agreed with the suggestion; he doesn't). He reminds us, earnestly this time, "Next time don't do that." I won't, Jack. Next time, I will believe you.
And of course, now my PC is choosing to act stupid. Lovely. Time to reinstall all of Windows from scratch... I hate this part. Positively hate it. I'm beginning to believe that the best method when it comes to upgrading is to buy a new computer, not just parts.
Hopefully, more later. Enjoy your Sunday!
Later: Well, after a long and busy day, some cleaning, and other things, I've discovered that I can walk about three miles without dying (though I'm rather wishing I hadn't). Down a hill, up a hill to a mall, around in a mall, back down the hill and up the hill, home, to dinner, and to discover that Obi-Wan Kenobi has finally passed on to holographic status. Alec Guiness passed away last night. It's a little odd, but I guess I have to admit much of my personal philosophy was formed by "Old Ben" and Fozzie Bear's alter-ego. "Do, or do not, there is no try." said Yoda. I guess it's true - when a giant falls, others grow to take their place; it just seems that the newer giants never manage to attain the stature of the old ones. Sad, but I guess that comes with the longer view of history.
And the best news - seems my PC has decided that rather than be blasted into oblivion, it will behave, at least for a while. Lovely. So NOW what do I do with that 45 gig hard drive I picked up? Oh, I guess I'll find Something. Mrs. D? About that new computer... I don't need a WHOLE one... ;-)
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2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, John Dominik.
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