Ponderings and Musings

We picked up a carton of orange juice at the local convenience store. It’s your usual (in the states) half gallon sized orange juice and it comes in a waxed cardboard carton. We usually use the returnable glass bottles but we were lazy this time around. The carton has a plastic spout drilled into the side of it.

I am curious about this.

For decades there was a marking on one end of the carton that had two little circles and it said “press here to form spout”. The task was as simple as implied; push in the correct spot with your fingers and the cleverly folded waxed cardboard will pop out into a convenient spout that allows you to accurately pour into the vessel in which the liquid is going to be contained. (How’s that for fancy writing!)

I fail to understand why we have gone from this cardboard spout setup and have decided to include a piece of plastic in this formerly easily recycled container. Has the dumbing down of the American public resulted in the failure to comprehend the instructions of “press here to form spout”, complete with two little pictures? Were people trying to do this on the wrong side of the carton? Will some lack of plastic throw of the delicate chemistry involved in the unnatural preservatives contained within, thereby nullifying the impossibly long expiration period? Was the simplicity of the carton not sexy enough? I miss that simplicity.

I’m going to remember the glass bottles next time.

One of the things that I didn’t expect to happen so quickly with my change in work schedule is my becoming a morning person so quickly. Did you know that every morning the sun rises in the east like a big ball of, well, sunshine and bathes the landscape in glorious light bringing the, well, light of a new day to all that are fortunate enough to behold it?

Wow!

My commute involves driving east in the morning and west in the evening so I get to do this whole ‘bathed in light’ thing in both directions of the commute. When augmented with my lunch break I have to say that I feel quite nice.

I have never been a morning person. I think it’s because I have always subscribed to the fact and insisted that I was a night person. My friend Dave from old work says it’s all in your head and I never bought into that, but I think he may be on to something. I now get up each morning at 5:30. I used to get up at 7:00. Now, I set my alarm each morning for 5:30 in an effort to make sure I get to work on time. But here’s the thing. Starting on Wednesday, I awoke before the alarm. Yes, I woke up at 5:24. Now, I don’t know if there is a plane flying over at that time or if Tom is ramming around the house or if it’s my own circadian rhythm getting in sync with my desires but ’tis true, I am now waking up my own at 5:24.

It is Saturday as of this writing. I went to bed last night around midnight.

I woke up at 5:24 this morning. I tried to nap and I did for a little bit but I couldn’t sleep past 7:00. As a result of this two thoughts come to mind: I have either officially become a morning person or I am getting older. I have always equated getting up early with older people because that’s what they do.

Whatever the reason, I think it’s pretty nifty seeing the sunrise each morning.

So I’m sitting in the Jeep during my lunch hour. The forecast I caught on the way into work this morning said we’d be getting snow showers. It’s currently around 45 degrees and sunny. This sneak peek at spring has done much to accentuate an already brilliant day.

My body is slowly acclimating to the new schedule. I found it a little bit easier to get up at 5:30 a.m. than yesterday- though I went to bed relatively early last night. Let’s see how I do after Daylight Saving Time strikes in a few weeks.

The second day at the new job is going along well. I work in a busy group so I’m doing all I can to go at it on my own when others are busy. They hooked up my phone today and gave me some other doodads for the cubicle; the model phone I now have is the same that I had back when I enjoyed working at the other job except in black. Apparently I’m lucky to have a brand new phone. Everyone has been very nice and very helpful. I am already feeling comfortable with my coworkers. I think this will be a good gig.

I’m still working out my daily routine and trying to figure out when I’m going to blog and take care of household business and all that. Towards the end of my tenure at my last job I was in the habit of just shuttling back and forth between the office and house at lunch time, but my commute now longer allows that so now I’m finding other ways to amuse myself. While today is quite nice, I’m excited for when the weather breaks and I can drink in some sunshine during my lunch hour.

Technology allows us the opportunity to maintain with those that have become part of our past. I’m exchanging e-mails with my friends back at the old job and of course updating folks via Facebook and Twitter and all that. It’s good to use technology for these purposes. That’s what social networking is all about – reaching out. It’s like letting your fingers do the walking, but with pictures.

Speaking of which, I’m going to try to do a little bit of night photography tonight if the weather conditions permit. I’m really enjoying the new camera. It’s a good creative outlet.

Earl, Jamie and I have been in Buffalo for a good part of the weekend. We were here to see the Buffalo Bandits take on the Philadelphia Wings in a lacrosse match at HSBC Arena. The cheering was divided last night as Earl was cheering on the Wings and Jamie was cheering on the Bandits. I would utter “go S U” from time to time because the orange clothing was confusing me. Buffalo lost and Earl ended up with a tub of popcorn turned upside down over his head. He found popcorn in his underwear this morning.

We stayed at the Embassy Suites in downtown Buffalo. Jamie stated that this is one of the nicest hotels in Buffalo. The suite was nice but the breakfast buffet was a little bit of an experience.

When there was food there were no plates, when there were plates there was no cutlery, when there was an omelette chef there was a line and when there was oatmeal and it was extra watery.

Oh, and there wasn’t a set of tongs to grab the bread to make toast. This sort of bugs me. Now, it’s not because I’m some sort of germophobe because that is hardly the case (though I have been known to douse people in Lysol if they seemed pukey to me), but I think that if one finds themselves in a buffet like environment without the appropriate utensils to grab food, you have two choices.

1. Ask for the appropriate utensils and use them when they arrive.

2. If you’re impatient (like me), grab a napkin and use that to grab the bread or the muffin or the fruit from the serving area. I don’t recommend this approach with salad items, soup or chili.

So there was a stack of bread in the little bread holder and this woman with really big hair in line in front of me. The smell of Aqua Net did not go unnoticed. Faced with the dilemma described above, she opted for her own approach.

With her bare hands, she grabbed a handful of bread slices, counted out how many she wanted, and then threw the rest back into the bread box.

Ewwww. Actually, I think I uttered a “Wow” that went relatively unnoticed. I don’t know where her hands as been but I certainly knew where they had just gone. I didn’t like that.

Not to be deterred, she jammed her pawed up bread onto the conveyor like toaster and watched it make it’s way through the little heater. I walked around her, grabbed a napkin and found some unpawed wheat bread (she predictably went for the white bread, noticed the snob in me) and loaded to pieces of wheat bread on the conveyor. Her toast plopped out the bottom of the machine at the same time and she heaved a sigh of disgust at the tanning of the bread so she put it through again and cranked the heat to high. I could see my wheat bread getting uncomfortably warm as it made it’s way through.

“I don’t think it’s charcoal season yet”, I said wryly, as I turned down the toaster to a reasonable level. I always have to interject a little humor before I fly into hysterics. Think of my humor as a warning shot across the bow. You can usually tell the difference between a true attempt of me being funny versus the use of humor to control my temper. She gave me an icy glare and blew some Aqua Net fumes at me.

My bread plopped out the bottom of the toaster a few moments later and I extended courtesy and cranked the heat back up.

“Bon appétit”, I shared with her, trying to be courteous.

The effort went unnoticed.

So today at 5:00 p.m. I shut my computer down, grabbed the belongings in the box that was sitting next to my desk, and walked out of the half of cubicle for the last time. My time at the job I have had for roughly the past five years has come to an end.

It was a bittersweet day for me. I was taken out to lunch by the manager of the group; I had a lengthy exit interview with one of the VPs and the President of the company shook my hand and visited with me a number of times throughout the day.

I think I did good for the company. I hope they enjoyed my stay as much as I did.

My new job begins Monday morning. It is finally sinking in that I have a new job and I will have a new cubicle and new co-workers in an entirely new environment.

I’m stoked.

The National Weather Service has issued a Winter Storm Warning for our area. We are expected to get …

… drum roll please …

… six to 12 inches of snow before Wednesday morning.

I don’t know when half a foot of snow became such an urgent matter in Upstate New York but the warning has blared on the Emergency Alert System and has been blasted on radio and television stations in the area.

I get it if downstate gets that much snow, they’re not used to it. But up here? That’s what we are known for!

When did this region become so pussified?

My alarm clock is set to wake me to the local NPR station. Honestly, it’s a waste of the alarm clock to use the local NPR station as the station of choice because the alarm clock has HD radio built into it and the sound quality of our NPR station is anything but “HD”. Because of obsession with time, my alarm clock is set precisely to the atomic clock. When the alarm goes off at the top of the hour, NPR is firing off the national news. I usually listen to that, then the local weather forecast, before hopping out of bed and starting my day.

I’m not a huge fan of the weatherman on the local station. He tends to be overly dramatic whenever there’s anything more than a stray puffy cloud in the sky. I don’t want that. I want the forecast delivered in a calm, rational manner. If I want hysteria I can certainly find it elsewhere.

This morning this weatherman went on and on about storms moving into the area. He was quite concerned about snowstorms moving into the area, even though it is February here in Upstate New York and we have seen snow here as late as Mother’s Day.

As he went on and on and he got more and more excited. I pictured him jumping up and down with excitement in his little home studio from where he calls his forecast into the stations that contract him. I wondered if he was wearing sweatpants.

He then started talking about the “Grand Daddy of all storms” moving up from the Carolinas. There was something about Western New England and some swirling over the Hudson Valley, a retrograde and then some Atlantic moisture.

This “Grand Daddy Of All Storms” was going to dump … wait for it… “possibly as much as a foot of snow in some parts of the listening area.”

Big friggin’ whoopdie doo.

“Grand Daddy Of All Storms”? “Up to a foot”?

In 1994 our area had over four feet dumped on us in less than 12 hours.

In 2008 or 2009 (senile moment), parts of the listening area had nine feet dumped on them in 36 hours.

“Up to a foot?”

I had visions of having to contract a road snow plow to clean out our driveway before he announced expected accumulation. I had thoughts of 2012 coming early with this Grand Daddy Of All Storms bringing a white armageddon down upon us. I was ready for Judgement Day.

“Grand Daddy Of All Storms”. “Up to a foot.”

It was then that I jumped out of bed, slammed my finger down on the power button and then reprogrammed the radio to a different station for further alarm duties.

I don’t need unwarranted hysteria like that in the morning and especially from an NPR affiliate.

So yesterday it became official and I can now openly talk about this: I gave my resignation yesterday. My last day with my current employer is February 26, 2010.

I start my new job on March 1, 2010.

I am going to be working in a similar environment as the Network Operations Center that I currently work in, but on a much larger scale. I am very excited about the position as I will be a Tier II specialist. The salary bump is impressive and my commute has gone from 12 minutes to 55 minutes in each direction, but I am really excited about the opportunity. Honestly, I’m excited about the commute too because it will afford me the opportunity to gear up for and wind down from work.

I’m being vague about where I’m going to work because I tend to do that on my blog, being a tinfoil hat wearer and all. But the company I will now work for is publicly traded and is very large.

This is a really big step along my career path and I am most excited. I feel sad that I am leaving the group at my current job; I really like the folks I work with but I need to do what is best for me.

I should probably be upset but I’m not. I just got a speeding ticket whilst on my way from the office to home for lunch. I was driving 72 MPH in a 55 MPH. The freeway I was driving on is four lanes across at the point where I got stopped for speeding. He had a clear shot of me with the laser gun because no one else was on the road. The road was obviously designed to be posted 65 MPH but even it was I would still be exceeding the speed limit.

I wish I could say that I cared that I was stopped for speeding but I really don’t. I’ll just have to be a little more conscious of how fast I drive on open stretches of highway. It’s easier to be bunched up in traffic cruising along at 80. Then they have their pick of who to stop.

The trooper that stopped me is named Officer Geraldo Rivera. He probably has “G. RIVERA” on his name plate so he doesn’t catch shit for that. He looked younger than me, and the famous Geraldo Rivera wasn’t famous until well after my single digit years, so his parents probably didn’t know better. When I saw his name on the ticket I decided to not be snarky at him.

Since I was caught speeding in the left hand lane I pulled over to the left shoulder when he turned on his lights. This made him walk through a snowbank and a mud puddle.

Snark level achieved.

Like many folks I have been watching the Winter Olympics. I just finished watching a figure skating performance and found it quite impressive.

It made me remember 1979, the second winter in the house my father built for us. We had a hardwood floor in the family room (it’s still there as a matter of fact) and my sister and I were inspired by watching Randy Gardner and Tai Babilonia. Even though we lived in the great white north known as the Lake Ontario Snowbelt, we opted to ‘skate’ around the family room in our socks on the hardwood floor. With the furniture pushed aside and some 45 spinning on the GE Wildcat record player, we danced around like we were skating and did our best Randy and Tai impersonation. We were not as good as “Fire and Nice” from ‘Modern Family’ but we did our thing. Who needs ice. My mother was happy because it kept her from having to dust the floor.

I remember finally getting the nerve to lift my sister in the air during a slow motion, real estate limited routine when my mother immediately stopped the show. I think she was afraid we were going to knock the oddly placed, shaped and decorated chandelier that hung in front of the fireplace off the ceiling.

Randy and Tai were safe for another year.