Fun and Games Dept

I always have dreams of writing a blog entry at lunchtime now that i am equipped with an iPad but it doesn’t work out. I was ready to jump into something breathtakingly amazing just 30 minutes ago but the WordPress software on the iPad, which was recently updated, doesn’t want me to do that and would prefer to be as vague as possible in it’s messages to me so i can feel like a dumb shit.

This dumb shit feel has been exacerbated by the fact that since I have since fixed the software glitch (screaming at the iPad doesn’t work, one must throw it), i have completely forgotten what I was going to write about. My delusions of grandeur with a riveting entry were obviously heavy on the ‘delusion’ and light on the ‘grandeur’. So instead im going to watch a rerun of the Hollywood Squares where Charles Nelson Reilly and Brett Somers shared the lower right hand square when they were still alive. It’s a shame it’s so taboo to be so outwardly drunk on stage these days. I know that the American public would rather just see some crass naked humor, but I miss the days when a martini or four made the afternoon go by quickly. Perhaps a martini would help me understand these cryptic software messages more easily.

“Samantha, make it a double.”

Hi, my name is J.P. In some places on the internet I’m known as Machias, in other places I’m known as iMachias and in other places I have a secret pseudonym that few know about.

I have been maintaining this blog since August 2001. It’s been called “Life Is Such A Sweet Insanity” since that first post, though it has lived on several servers and has sported many looks over the years. I’d like you to take a moment to look around the edges of this blog entry (if you’re not on the mobile or RSS versions) and take a notice of something.

I have no ads on my site. I never have and I never will. This site is funded out of our pockets and we get nothing but comments, emails and any occasional nastygram in return. I’m not looking for ratings and I’m not looking to make a living by what I feel should be just a contribution.

You see, I believe that every person has a positive contribution to make to the human equation, even if they seem like they’re one of the most crankiest people you’ve ever met. (Those folks teach us patience, for example). I think that providing this little window to our life through this blog thingee here is one of my hopefully many positive contributions. I enjoy writing. I enjoy expressing myself. And the universe knows I love to rant.

One of the things that I pride myself on is keeping this blog relatively up-to-date with current blogging trends. For example, if you’ve stumbled across my blog with a mobile device such as a Droid or any iPhone, you’ll note that I have a special template just for you to make it easier for you to navigate my prose with a tiny screen. It only took me about five minutes to install the necessary plugin and it made me feel good. A positive contribution. One would think that someone making a significant amount of money would take the time to do the same with his or her blog, but that’s not the case. They’re too busy making room for more ads.

I have been doing this sort of thing for nearly 15 years but I still can’t get used to it. Earl has left for Minneapolis-St. Paul until late tomorrow night. It’s not even 48 hours that he’ll be gone but nonetheless I still feel something missing.

It’s funny, we occasionally travel on vacation separately and it doesn’t bother me, but when it happens during the week I feel more of an impact. I guess it’s easier to find something to occupy your time when you don’t have to worry about work the next day.

So tonight I will be a geek and idle my motor until he comes home. I hope Jamie likes popcorn for supper.

A view at lunch time. I love the colors that signify the beginning of autumn.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

I mentioned to Earl last night that it had been a long, long while since we had a bucket of supper so tonight he made a run to the local Kentucky Fried Chicken for just that: a bucket of supper.

I don’t know if it was the mention of such a supper in a Reba song I was listening to the other day that jogged a memory or two of enjoying a bucket of chicken with the family when I was a kid but something made me crave a choice of original or extra crispy. I remember sharing a couple of buckets of chicken at Grandma City’s house on a Saturday night or Sunday afternoon on a couple of occasions. The Kentucky Fried Chicken wasn’t too far away; since this was the mid to late 1970s it was the older style establishment with the big bucket on top of the pole. This particular restaurant sat on the corner of Old Liverpool Road and the then-modern-sounding Electronics Parkway (which led to Electronics Park). I don’t remember the restaurant having a seating area but since it was 35 years or so ago, my memories might be a little hazy.

Earl and I took a somewhat healthy approach to our bucket of supper tonight: we supplemented the chicken with green beans and cole slaw. There were no mashed potatoes or gravy to be found. That’s okay though because it was just as good as I remembered it back in the day.

From Picasa Web.