November 2007

Good Geek.

I’m often commenting on how I feel that the abuse of current technology is sort of ruining our society. Well maybe “ruining” is too strong a word, perhaps “changing it considerably” is more applicable. People are engaging in less face to face interaction and are relying more and more on the latest technological advances through instant messaging, social networking websites and the likes of all that.

While I often harp on the negative aspects of the introduction of this medium to everyday life (ignorant drivers on cell phones, etc), there are a great deal of positive spins on this as well. For example, I have been a “roadgeek” all my life. Roads, transportation and to an extent, networks of just about anything, fascinate me to no end and it’s because of this fascination that I returned to school earlier in the year for a civil engineering degree. Growing up I thought I was the only one in the world that took photos of road signs and begged my parents to drive through construction zones. With the internet explosion, I discovered that I wasn’t alone in this passion and I regularly chat with others with similar interests and I maintain my roadgeek website documenting our little corner of the world. Technology has given me the opportunity to network and share with others interested in the same subjects as I.

The same holds true for the gay, and to a bigger extent, gay bear community. It was through the olden days of the BBS (bulletin-board service) that I first met like minded individuals online back in 1986 (let’s hear it for the Commodore 64!) at 300 baud and today Earl and I enjoy the company of many people we have met recently that have similar interests as we do. I mean, think about it, as I sit here at my computer, I am able to chat with my friend Steve in Buffalo and carry on as if we were sitting across the supper table from one another. We can see each other if we want to, or we can just type little quips back and forth. Back in the day we’d have to let our fingers do the walking and wait until the rates dropped after 5.

This weekend was another example of bringing people together through technology, as Earl and I met up with Greg and Bob in Connecticut. Greg and I have chatted for a couple of years online and we have met up for lunch and whatnot on several occasions. Last night was the first night that all four of us met up as a group and quite frankly we had an outstanding time. Earl and I would have never met Greg and Bob if it weren’t for the technology available to us.

So I have to remember that when I complain about the occasional gross abuse of technology around me, there’s also a great benefit for many others.

Now if we could just do something about the La Cucaracha ring tones.

Encore! Encore!

With less than five weeks left in this semester and the bulk of my required projects done I am eagerly looking forward to my next semester which starts at the end of January. The college began class registration this week and I was online nice and early to make sure I had the prime seats I had my eye on.

I’ve mentioned before that my experience with my math professor has been interesting in that he has a unique teaching style that could be summed up in one word: “null”. Last I knew my grade in this class was decent (he hasn’t returned homework, quizzes or tests in two or three weeks) but I’m confident that I’ll at least get through the course and not have to repeat it. So I went ahead and scheduled myself in the next required math course in the sequence, which is also my (thank the universe) last required math course.

There’s one class available with 30 seats. And guess who the professor is! Naturally it’s Professor Frightful and his cast of voices that live in the chalkboard. I can’t even escape to the sanctuary called distance learning over the internet.

Many of my classmates are skipping the next math class next semester but I really can’t do that if I want to graduate on time so I’m going to have to suck it up and do my best.

I’m still looking forward to the next slate of classes. My schedule is a little more balanced next semester and I believe I’ll have ample time to devote the time necessary to my coursework.

Flashback.

One of my favorite workout songs and one of the first tracks I played as a baby DJ, here’s “Right Back Where We Started From” by Sinitta, from 1989.

Glutton for Punishment.

Earl is out of town on business this evening, though just moments ago he surprised me by saying he was taking a late flight tonight instead of coming home tomorrow afternoon as originally scheduled. Naturally I’m delighted by this news. Unfortunately he isn’t arriving home early enough to join me for supper. I wasn’t really in the mood for popcorn and beer though I did briefly consider the temptation. In the mood for an internet cafe experience I ended up heading to our local Panera, where I have been irked on several occasions earlier this week.

I guess I’m a glutton for punishment.

The restaurant is packed to the gills with people this evening. There’s a wide selection of screaming kids, big haired women and hyper macho men that think talking as if they’re from Brooklyn makes them exceedingly sexy. What do I know, perhaps the big haired women like these guys. They’re not my cup of tea though.

The cutie bear that was working on his PowerBook this past Monday night in the corner is still there tonight, even though it appears that he changed his clothes. I am seriously considering taking a picture of him with the iPhone though I fear that may prove to cross some line that I’m vaguely aware of.

I did notice that the “courtesy” cups I mentioned from my last visit here at no longer available. So much for giving the customers a free cup of water. I guess the old adage of “You abuse it, you lose it” holds true in this case.

I have to admit that I love eavesdropping on the conversations around me. I guess that’s why I don’t have bionic hearing, I’d probably abuse the privilege. Since I have plain ol’ human hearing (that’s holding up quite well) I’m forced to limit my eavesdropping to the tables around me but the chats I’m hearing are quite interesting. I’m intrigued by the liberal use of the f-bomb at a table seemingly populated by a family. Now I use the word quite a bit in everyday conversation but these are going quite crazy with it. This is interesting to me because the family looks like the type that was offended by Janet Jackson’s wardrobe malfunction that seriously fucked up broadcast television and radio.

The other thing I’m noticing with these conversations around me is the accent. Aside from the Brooklyn wannabes, there’s the overpowering flat “a” sound that’s quite common in this area (merry, mary and marry all sound the same here). I guess that’s to be expected, since I’m the native land of that sound, but there’s also quite a bit of what I call “fake Italian” going on, where they drop the trailing vowel off of every word that ends in a vowel. “Cannoli” becomes “canole”, “ricotta” becomes ricott, marinara becomes “mon-non” (both syllables rhyme with “on”) which I don’t find in Upstate New York outside of our immediate area. I’ve never been to Italy so maybe what I perceive to be “fake Italian” could be the real mccoy but I’ve never heard anyone portraying an Italian character on television speak this way.

I guess this Panera experience has moved up a notch from frustrated/irritated to perplexed. The feeling isn’t unpleasant.

Official.

It’s officially snowing here in the Mohawk Valley. Nothing is sticking to the ground yet, but there’s flakes in the air. The higher hills have snow on them.

I’m officially iMachias all over, the last transition being made last night when Microsoft came out with the @live.com e-mail addresses. I don’t use the service, but I do use Live Messenger once in a while (to keep in touch with my family who also use it), and I didn’t want another @hotmail.com address on there. So imachias@live.com it is for Windows Messenger.

We officially did not make Rosie and Friends in NYC last night due to a last minute scheduling conflict. Earl is out of town for rest of the week and it would have made it quite difficult on both of us to try to squeeze in a quick trip to New York. The money for the tickets went to a good cause, so there’s no harm done.

I’m officially catching up on my homework and quite pleased with myself.

This Ain’t McDonalds.

Earl and I like to go out to supper after we do the voting thing. It’s become a tradition of sorts and we keep the dinner low key.

Tonight we went to the local Panera.

I’ve mentioned before that I find our Panera to be a little frustrating. Actually, I find the customers of the local Panera to be frustrating. True to form, the queue was 15-20 people deep and few knew what they were going to order before standing in front of the register with their mouth agape. Tonight’s featured question was “What’s gorgonzola cheese?”

Panera has been kind enough to put out “courtesy cups”, these little plastic cups for patrons to use for little sips of water. They’re smaller than those Dixie cups that used to be dispensed in the kitchen (and there’s no jokes along the side to read.) Many feel that these cups are for iced tea and pop, even if it involves 8, 9 or ten trips to the soda fountain to refill them due to the size of the cup.

I found this infuriating.

I also noticed that several people just left their garbage on the table instead of taking it to the trash bins as most of the other customers do. While we were waiting in line to order I glared at a woman who left her garbage spread out all over the table. She looked at me defiantly. I continued to glare and she softened her return stare. She didn’t do anything about the garbage but I made her feel sufficiently guilty. When another party left their garbage I proclaimed loudly, “Why don’t they just rip down the Panera sign and serve nothing but Happy Meals since everyone is intent on making this place a DUMP.” That garnered a few startled glances that made me feel quite proud of myself.

All in all the meal was enjoyable, the company was extraordinary (Earl is always a good date) but the clientele was frustrating. Earl says I can’t change the world but I’m going to keep on trying.

To Oprah. To Milk Duds.

Lately I’ve been inspired to pursue my long buried musical aspirations. Between the piano getting fixed up and the prompting from several that I should start singing again (outside of the shower), I’ve been timidly looking around for something fun to do to see if I can handle being on a stage again without dying of fright, whether it be community theatre, a gay men’s chorus or going somewhere for karaoke night (Guinness optional).

One of my favorite musicals of all time is “Rent”. I love each piece of the production and I often sing selected songs from the soundtrack during my commute to school. I occasionally amuse myself by watching local community groups perform songs from the show. Due to some of the content and lyrics of the music, “Rent” is not a show you often see performed by high school drama clubs. However, once in a while a rogue, daring music teacher will make the leap with interesting results. During my latest look through YouTube, I got a kick out of a change in lyrics to “La Vie Boheme”.

To hand-crafted beers made in local breweries
To yoga, to yogurt, to rice and beans and cheese
To leather, to dildos, To curry Vindaloo
To Huevos Rancheros and Maya Angelou

became

To hand-crafted beers made in local breweries
To yoga, to yogurt, to rice and beans and cheese
To Oprah, to milk duds, To curry Vindaloo
To Huevos Rancheros and Maya Angelou

I’m curious if the script was changed before or after it was practiced in the high school auditorium. For some reason the change just cracks me up.

Crazy.

Since all is right with the world (we’ve switched back to Standard Time, which puts the sun relatively close to where it should be) I was up bright and early before sunrise at 6:30. Some may scoff at my attempt to get up early but I feel that getting up at 6:30 is an accomplishment for this night owl. I had no choice in the matter, as I had a paw in my eye. It was time for tuna.

Anyway, not only am I up and about at this ungodly hour, I just realised that I have been cleaning my office/studio for the past thirty minutes. I’ve organised all my school papers and work from past semesters, I’ve thrown out hundreds of 3 1/2-inch floppy disks (I kept the 5 1/4-inch ones, just kidding they were the old 8-inch ones) and I think I might actually dust and vacuum the rooms in the basement tonight.

Let’s see if I can stay up beyond 7:00.

1313 Mockingbird Lane.

The neighbors down the street have augmented their now outdated Halloween display with various tacky Christmas monstrosities. They have snow globes, puffed up santas, twinkling lights of every color, dancing penguins and scary looking snowmen mixed in with the puffed ghouls, witches and goblins leftover from the last festive commercial venture. I decided that all this could mean only one thing: I needed to take down our cobwebs too.

I wish I could say the cobwebs were up to add to the Halloween atmosphere of the week but that would be a bit of a fib, since it would mean that I’ve been decorating for Halloween since June. I sort of think cobwebs add to the gaiety of watching the dust bunny races we have nightly in the “Great Room”. In fact, think that’s what makes the room great, built in dust bunny races. It’s better than that old television show Bowling For Dollars.

So, trying to avoid doing homework I decided to unbury the vacuum cleaner, dust it off and go for a spin around the house. I even swiffed before vacuuming for that extra touch.

I think it’s time for a party or two.