A view at lunch time. I love the colors that signify the beginning of autumn.
J.P.
Saturday.
So today is my Saturday even though yesterday was Wednesday. Even though it seems like it was a month ago, last weekend was a long weekend with that whole Labor Day thing going on and then I worked my regular hours on Tuesday. Yesterday I had the day off but worked second shift so I could do software upgrades (it’s what I’m paid to do, fortunately) and then I had today off. Tomorrow I start four days in a row of work so today is Saturday and then tomorrow is Tuesday because I have next Tuesday off.
This new version of on call week for me is much more confusing then just sitting up in bed all night and paying homage to the Motorola pager gods. I actually prefer this version of on call week much more than the previous version, but I’m still happy this only comes around every three months or so.
Whew!
I was rather productive on my day off, catching up on e-mail, shipping a computer I sold on ebay and listing another that I want to sell. This is all in an effort to keep the budget in check with the recent purchase of the iPad. I’m still loving the iPad, by the way, and I am quite pleased by my return to Mac allegiance.
The other day I noticed that it had been a year or so since my last HIV test so I decided to go ahead and grab a number at the county clinic today. Last year I was number 5, today I was number 2. I drove to the other county office building to accomplish since that’s where they were doing to the HIV testing today, whatever day it is.
I had a really good discussion with Shirley, the counselor and woman that conducted the test. It really boggles my mind as to why people don’t bother to get HIV tested, regardless of their level of promiscuity. It’s a really easy thing to do and as a gay man who watched several of his friends die from AIDS in the 80s and 90s, it seems like the right thing to do.
This is how it works here: you go in, grab a number and sit on a hard chair. They bark out your number and you fill out a modest form. Then you go back to a hard chair. They bark out your number again and you sign the form that says whether you’d like to confidential or anonymous. (I always choose confidential). More time in the hard chair, this time with a photocopied pamphlet on how HIV is transmitted, and then the number is barked out for the third and final time. You sit and asked to sign one more sheet that says you won’t commit suicide should the results come out to be positive, for it could be a false positive and further tests would have to be done for a positive positive. I signed and then my finger was pricked. A few drops of blood on the stick, a drop of special solution and then Shirley started the timer on her leopard skin covered iPhone. We need to wait ten minutes for the results, and that’s when Shirley and I discussed my sexual history over the past six months. What seems mundane to me sometimes evokes wide eyes, I wisely decided not to talk about the goats or swinging chandeliers this time, but I’m frank with my discussion and she goes through the importance of safer sex no matter what and I oblige. She’s right and I always do my best to follow the safer sex code to the letter, goat notwithstanding. During the conversation I am always scanning Shirley for any hesitation or nervous glances at The Stick, but she keeps her cool. Ten minutes are up and then she tells me my results. Since I didn’t know what indicated what on the stick, I asked her to explain and now I know what to look for on the stick in the future.
In today’s world it is important that each and every person, even if you’re 100 years old and doing things that only century old people can do in the bedroom, get tested for HIV. It’s easy to do, damn near free and honestly, the responsible thing to do.
Back.
There is a saying that goes something similar to “Once you go Mac, you never go back.” I’m not really going to focus on the gist of the original saying that since it’s not really applicable to what I’m writing about. Instead, I’m going to focus on one thing.
I went back to Mac.
It’s true that last week I sold my MacBook Pro to the fine people at Gazelle. I’m getting a good bit of money back for it. The MacBook Pro and I have never bonded in the way I had bonded with my PowerBook G4. I was never completely satisfied with the feel of that keyboard and quite frankly, I was always confused as to why Earl’s MacBook Pro, which was purchased at the same time that one way, had a much better keyboard than mine MacBook Pro did. So I wasn’t sad when I decided to sell that computer because we didn’t get along at times (it didn’t like talking to public wifi spots either).
I went on and on about my Lenovo desktop and later, my Lenovo laptop, both that are running the latest stable version of Ubuntu Linux. Ubuntu is cool in that you can make it work and act like a Mac or like Windows or like an Atari 2600 if you want to, but it has this unpolished feel to it that makes me a little crazy. I don’t like feeling crazy in front of a computer. Challenged, perhaps, but not crazy.
I did the Windows thing for a while and it was quaint but when Internet Explorer gets cranky I get cranky, especially when it’s 1 a.m. and I’m searching for porn. So the Windows thing and I didn’t last very long.
Which brings us to today. This morning I was trying to do some work on my Lenovo laptop when Ubuntu decided I shouldn’t be working on my e-mail and just crashed the e-mail program. That was the final straw for me. I ran upstairs, told Earl that anything in the house marked Lenovo was immediately for sale and that what I really wanted to do was use the studio iMac as my main computer, his old MacBook Pro (the one with a good keyboard), which I use for DJ gigs, as my laptop but more importantly, I wanted that iPad I had been hinting about.
We worked out the finances. I have promises to keep. But I am typing this blog entry on my brand new iPad 64GB wifi model.
I. LOVE. IT.
It’s good to be back home.
The WordPress app on the iPad affords me the opportunity to write more whilst on the go. I am hoping that this will inspire me to write more blog entries again. Earl also told me last night that Twitter makes me a little angry because I’m paying more attention to that instead of paying attention to life in general. In addition to the financial obligations of selling anything non-Mac in the house, I have also promised to slow down on the Tweeting.
Satire.
I stumbled across the commercial on YouTube today and I just love the 60s chic feel and the high camp they have going on.
Mrs. Clark is played by Patty Regan who appeared as a guest star in quite a few sitcoms of the era, including playing “Dolly”, the horse turned into a human, in an episode from the second season of Bewitched.
Bonus points to he or she that can identify the three commercials that are referenced in this commercial.
Jury Duty, Part 2.
Okay, so the trial went faster than anticipated and after only 10 minutes of deliberation, the jury found the accused guilty on two counts. The defendant flipped out and started yelling during closing statements and had to be removed from the room. He was back for the verdict where he remained calm.
I stared at him for a few moments trying to get a sense of what his deal was. He stared back. It was a little unnerving. I don’t know if I’m suppose to do that, but I did.
I was impressed with the eclectic group (the way it’s suppose to be!) of jurors. Everyone asked reasonable questions and we each had a turn to speak our piece.
Serving on a jury was an amazing experience and I won’t ever dread doing my part again. I kind of look forward to it and might request a release so I can do it in four years instead of eight. I have a new appreciation for our legal system and now to sound overly dramatic, but I also have a strong sense of patriotism again.
Jury Duty.
I received the summons a couple of weeks ago and I kind of took the “what a pain the ass” attitude. It was a call to jury duty for the last week of August. And here it is the last week of August.
I needed to start calling in nightly beginning on Friday. I called in Sunday night and was told by a pleasant voice on a recording that no jurors were needed for Monday 30 Aug 10. One down, four to go. I called in last night and was told that those holding numbers 1 through 110 had to report for jury selection at 9:00 on Tuesday. That would be today. Be prompt, but not before 8:30 and be sure to park in the designated parking area.
I arrived at 8:35, was scanned like I was stepping onto a 737 and went into the bowels of the County Courthouse, where I filled out a questionnaire and sat with the 109 other people that were awaiting their chance to do their civic duty. Once I got to the courthouse I have to admit that my attitude changed and I was kind of looking forward to the experience because it seemed quite interesting. After reciting the pledge of allegiance and a few opening remarks from the Commissioner of Jurors or something like that (and he looks way too much like a thug for that role, but that’s just my opinion), we watched a 20 minute video feature Ed Bradley, Diane Sawyer and a really important judge for the State of New York. The video was interesting and wasn’t too peppy. I wasn’t really in the mood to be waving the flag and of learning the importance of my patriotism complete with fireworks coming out of my ears and the video didn’t do much of that. It really just outlined what was expected of a juror and the importance of it.
The guy that looked like a thug informed us that jury selection was underway for a criminal trial and that we would be escorted up to the fifth floor of the courthouse to begin the selection. My number of 24 was randomly chosen and plopped me into the 9th seat in the jury box. I answered a few questions that were asked by the judge and then took my seat. Both sides asked those of us in the jury box a few questions, I didn’t have to answer any personal questions directly, and then they went into chambers where decisions were made.
When everyone returned to the courtroom, I found that I wasn’t excused from the trial. I am juror #7 and according to the judge, will be doing the legal thing until end of business tomorrow.
This is an interesting experience.
Autumn Breezes.
The air is starting to feel a bit like autumn. This is a good thing, since autumn is my favorite time of the year. There is a certain amount of magic on the winds of autumn and I revel in that magic. I find that while summertime affords the most amount of freedom as far as playing outside, there is a heaviness in the air that bogs me down slightly. Autumn is where I can soar, albeit while bundled up just a little bit.
This weekend it’s all about the camping. The schedule has been a mad race to do as much as possible before Labor Day. And then I’m up for jury duty starting Monday, ironically, the same day my latest speeding ticket gets called to the judge.
Perhaps I can throw myself in the slammer so I can get some rest.
Speak Up.
How many times have you gone into your assigned voting place, stared at the voting machine (or whatever newfangled version they’ve settled on now) and rolled your eyes as you pulled the lever, colored in the circle or touched the screen. As a proud American I know that I have on more occasions than I want to admit. Now why are you rolling your eyes? Because you’re picking from two candidates for an important office and quite frankly, you’re forced to vote for the one that sucks less. And that doesn’t leave you with a good, patriotic feeling, now does it. I know it doesn’t for me.
George Carlin used to quip that we had sixty brands of dog food to choose from on our supermarket aisles but basically only two candidates to choose from when it came to voting for President of the United States. And there’s a really good chance that those two candidates got up there by way of lots and lots of money.
Now, let’s swing this around a little bit. Up until about 10 or 12 years ago, if your average, middle-class American family wanted to do some shopping, they have several choices of department store chains to choose from. In 1990 when I worked for the Hills Department Store chain in the small western New York city of Jamestown, we were warned that if we screwed up and got fired, we wouldn’t be able to work at any of the chain stores in Jamestown or the surrounding areas, and that included Hills, Ames, Zayre, K-mart and Jamesway. Five department stores to choose from in a city of less than 35,000 people. We had choices and it was good.
Today, I live in a city of just over 60,000 and we basically have two chains to choose from: Wal*mart and Target. Admittedly, we also have a K-mart but it’s really depressing to go into that store. I have been told by several people over the years this is because the United States is headed in this direction: big corporations bring lower prices to consumers, which ultimately is a good thing for all involved. Except it’s not. Because while we are reveling at the fact that we bought at $10.00 toaster at Wal*Mart (Always White Trash, Always) and that it won’t blow up or electrocute anyone for at least a year, the fact remains in that we are settling for two things: having our choices narrowed down and/or dictated to us and items of mediocre value at best.
Now that we are down to two choices, we have to choose the lesser of two evils when they start playing their political tricks. Our friends at Target recently donated $150,000 to an anti-gay, anti-union candidate for governor in Minnesota. There is a growing movement to boycott Target and quite frankly, the reasons they outline I believe in. But that leaves me with one other choice: Wal*Mart. And lord knows that I don’t agree with many of Wal*Mart’s practices, including the low wages for their employees (urging them to find public assistance to compensate for their crappy benefits), their vendor lock out policies (if you don’t package it the Wal*Mart way, you’re out) and their basic sterilization of the American community where you’ll almost always find a Wal*Mart 1.2 miles outside of town, luring consumers away from whatever is left in your basic American downtown, ultimately leaving said once-thriving business district as a bunch of run-down empty buildings.
Yes, I over dramatize, but someone has to.
We are distracted from the control being taken away from the American people on a daily basis by news outlets that go on for DAYS about Dr. Laura saying the “N-word” (which, by the way, is her right though it is not something I agree with) and hourly updates on how Lindsey Lohan is doing in jail.
There are groups in the United States paying MILLIONS of dollars to prove and tell you that gays shouldn’t marry because their love isn’t valid. It isn’t natural. It isn’t real. Heterosexual people can marry eight, nine, ten or how many ever times it takes to “feel natural” but by god, my unequivocal, undeniable, “unnatural” love for Earl isn’t real.
Put these two choices on a ballot: allow gays to marry or allow them to declare themselves gay and pay only 75% of the taxes married couples pay. If we are not afforded the same rights then we shouldn’t pay the same amount of money to maintain those rights.
I have two nephews that I love dearly. And at times I feel horrible for them because this is such a screwed up world we are leaving for them. Ice chunks many times the size of Manhattan are breaking off the ice shelf, people are going around spreading messages of hate in the name of religion and people are working very hard to make everything either a black or white issue: you’re Christian or you’re not, you’re Republican or you’re a Democrat, you love your country or you down. Well I’m sorry, future generations deserve better than that, and the only way that is going to happen is if we make good choices and more importantly, we have many choices to choose from.
By the way, Saturday night we needed some dry goods that we would normally buy at Target. We skipped Target, avoided Wal*Mart and drove 30 miles round trip to go to a halfway decent K-mart.
It was the gray in a sea of black and white.
The Coyote’s After You.
This blog entry will be updated as this personal saga continues. We have Time Warner Roadrunner high speed (“turbo”!) Internet service. As of 2130 last night the speeds were down to a crawl. I called the local service number at 2210 after using my considerable geek skills to diagnose the issue: packet loss due to poor signal strength on the modem. Rebooting five times did not resolve the issue. Isolating the network to just one computer hooked to the modem resulted in the same deal. I was going to have to call.
Tue 10 Aug 10
2210: Dial my 10 digit home number, 2, 1, 2, 4. Waited on hold for 35 minutes listening to a badly chopped up marketing message and then I hung up. I know why the marketing message was chopped up and I can’t believe they’re still using that service.
Wed 11 Aug 10
0536: same dialing deal. Todd in Albany. Confirms my issues. Next appointment is between 0800 and 1200 on Tue 17 Aug. Call back after 0600 to talk to someone local since he’s on a skeleton crew and can’t really do much. A 24/7 service does not deserve 24/7 support.
0601: same dialing deal. Nancy. Use of IM makes me suspect she’s working from home. She needs me home phone number (even though I just typed it in) to confirm I am who I am. She says Tue 17 Aug because my speeds are slow instead of down completely. I offer to go outside and fully break it. She gasps. I ask for someone on the 13th since we can have someone at the house then. She says no, I have to be home today, take it or leave it. I lie and say yes though no one will be home. She’s not technical. No shit, but I give her credit for being mechanical.
0707: home phone, 2 1 2 2 4. Joe after 8 minute wait. In order to get an evening appointment you have to schedule your outage or trouble call in advance. (I wish I was joking about that). Reschedule for 13 Fri between 1000 and 1200. That sucks but because I didn’t plan my broken connection in advance its the best I can do. Apparently new customers are more important.
1244: An internal spy at Time Warner has confirmed that it looks like I have a problem in the outside wiring and that the 13th is the earliest date I can have for a trouble call. I appreciate the update very much but really? 48 hours is the earliest you can have someone out there? That makes me really want to sign up for that digital phone service the chopped up marketing message was trying to sell me.
