Ponderings and Musings

Earl and I spending the night in the lovely city of Rochester, N.Y. We’re meeting up with our friends from Buffalo and heading to a local bar here for bear night. We’ve never been to bear night in Rochester before but it should prove to be a fun experience.

Beforehand we’re going to have dinner at the local P.F. Changs, the only one in Upstate New York. It’s the little things like this that make us happy.

I have my camera primed and ready to go for this evening. I hope to have lots of pictures to upload onto Flickr.

Sunshine

Originally uploaded by macwarriorny.

The sun brought me out of my hibernation mode today. For what it’s worth, I could see my shadow. I don’t know what happens when a bear sees his shadow on Groundhog Day, but it can’t be all bad. Not on a beautiful day like today!

All I know is that the bright sunshine today has done wonders for my mood, my outlook on life and my disposition. They say we are returning to winter starting this weekend. I don’t care.

I’m enjoying the sunshine today.

As an aside, I’ve gone from my “large” clothes to my “medium” clothes. I’m quite pumped about that.

O.k., so a couple of weeks ago, I ranted a little bit about why people should use revolving doors when the opportunity arises. Today we’re going to go a few steps further into the building and talk about the elevator.

As a kid I was absolutely fascinated with the elevator. You hopped in, pressed a button and faster than you can say “whoosh”, you were on your way to the selected floor. The elevator would bump around on the rails a little bit but you’d make it with the least amount of effort required. Since I grew up in a small town, the only time we really rode elevators is when we went to a hospital or office building in downtown Syracuse. It wasn’t very often.

Then when I was a sophomore in high school, we visited the local college to get a grip on what we wanted to do with the rest of our lives and 22 students piled into an elevator designed to hold less than that. The elevator got stuck between floors for 20 minutes or so and there was a burning smell coming from some place. We assumed the cables were burning through and we were going to plunge to our death. Needless to say, we got out of the situation unscathed but it freaked me out for the next five or ten years. I wouldn’t get on an elevator at all, opting to walk regardless of the number of stairs I had to climb. In fact, to this day I can’t get on a crowded elevator without thinking twice about it.

I eventually got over my fear of elevators for the most part. Prior to my current job, I worked on the top floor of a 16 story office building, and elevator etiquette fascinated me there as well. Quick side note: I did get stuck alone in the elevator in that building and being the brave soul that I am, I decided that the best way to get the elevator moving again was to jump. So I jumped up and down until it started moving. In fact everytime I jumped I chanted, “LET – ME – OUT”. But I never panicked.

Anyways, I find it amazing that some people just don’t “get” an elevator. At work, I’ll be going from our floor to the basement to work on some equipment and will almost always stop at the lobby to let others on the elevator off. About 75% of the time, those waiting for the elevator will either ask “Is this going up?” or will get on and then become annoyed because it’s heading down and not up. First of all, this is a standard elevator with colorful lights that indicate the direction of travel when the door is open. In fact, there are two sets of lights – one over the door in the lobby, and a second on the door frame inside the elevator. (I wonder what would happen if the two didn’t match?) There’s also a pleasing chime noise to keep people calm. Is it really that difficult to take note of the light flashing over the door to note which way the elevator is going?

Another thing that kind of intrigues me are these people that have no idea what floor they want to go to so they punch every button available to them, aside from STOP, and then look out from the door when the elevator stops at floor after floor. “No, this isn’t it.” “Nope, this isn’t it either.” They did that in the other building too, where several floors had been abandoned years ago and the only thing on those floors were cranky pigeons and lots of bird poop. “I guess this isn’t your floor, either.”

Then of course we have the people that are SO anxious to get to work that they refuse to let those on the arriving elevator out. They start jamming themselves in regardless of the fact that 1. the elevator is full and 2. the people on the elevator wish to get off. I would often see a similar situation on the subway, it was very popular on the Boston T at Government Center and at Alewife.

And what is it with people hogging the elevator buttons? They park themselves right in front of the control panel and then don’t say anything. Uh, how about a “what floor?” Instead you have to push them out of the way and select your floor. I’ve tried to set an example by standing in front of the buttons and asking the floor, but I’ve been ignored, glared at and shoved aside while the others select their own floor. Such bitterness in the world today.

And lastly, once in a while you’ll get some yo-yo that gets on the elevator apparently just to ride. (Must be they like the muzak or something). They don’t select a floor. They just get on and seemingly WILL the elevator to stop at their desired stop. Finally, they’ll croak out something like, “How do I get to the bank?” Since they walked by the bank to get on the elevator in the first place, I usually instruct them to press “B”.

I know, I’m mean.

You know, I find it a little humorous that I was sitting at home on Friday night thinking, “Gee, the entire weekend is stretched out in front of me and I’m sitting at home on call.” Next thing I know, it’s Sunday night and I’m in the midst of preparing for the work week.

I wish I could tell you what we did this weekend that made it fly by so quickly.

Looking back, I don’t really know what I’ve done that made the time pass. Laundry is caught up. I even washed the sheets for the second time this week. (Usually we wait until Tom makes burying motions with his paws, then we know the sheets are getting kind of gross.) I’ve sorted out the junk in the basement enough to know what computers are going to the dumpster and what computers are staying in my lab. I had eight computers down there. Only three are worth anything. The trash man is going to love me this week.

Last night we watched “Brother Bear” on DVD and then followed it up with an episode of the Superfriends, followed by the more cerebral but no less entertaining “SportsNight”.

I don’t feel like anything has been accomplished, but I do feel quite good about the weekend I guess. I just have no idea where it went.

I was just interviewed on the street for a segment on a local talk show.

Them: “What excuse do you like to use when you call in for work?”

Me: “I don’t want to work.” (Leave it to me to state the obvious).

Them: “So you tell your boss you don’t want to work.”

Me: “Yeah, I say ‘I’m not in the mood to work.'”

Them: “What if he’s not in the mood to pay you?”

Me: “Then I go to work.” (Again, leave it to me to state the obvious).

The interview then did one of those television chuckles. Ah ha ha ha ha ha. Where the mouth moves up and down abnormally. They then said thanks and moved on to their next victim.

I’m ready for my close up.

I am going to come absolutely clean right here in front of the world. I never thought I would ever say this to my partner Earl, let alone everyone that reads my blog or stumbles across this on a Google tangent, but the time has come and I must announce it.

I am totally infatuated with Paula Abdul with this season of American Idol.

There, I’ve said it.

She has entered the realm of diva-dom. And that’s a good thing.

Last year, Paula seemed a little bit off kilter. Well, let’s face facts, she seemed downright drugged and it was like she was in her own little euphoric haze and she didn’t share any with anyone else. Then the whole Corey what’s his name scandal started to bubble and she came out of the fog and into reality and it all eventually settled down. This season, it seems like Paula has pulled herself together and I think she is doing a great job on this seemingly mean run of American Idol auditions.

One thing about this season that is making me a little crazy is all this hoopla about Randy and Simon’s “anti-gay” comments, for example, that one guy that was named something like Brandy that looked and acted and sounded like a girl, which is perfectly fine, but Randy couldn’t tell what gender he was. I don’t know about you, but if I went out of my way to go to the hair salon and ask for my hair to be cut into a Dorothy Hammill haircut and had my eyebrows tweezed slimmer than the ladies’ from Abba’s, I wouldn’t be offended if someone made that mistake either. And now that I think about it, I’d probably still have a beard through all this, which wouldn’t help differentiate me from women in some parts of the country, so you can see the reason for some of the confusion. I mean come on, if you’re going to go out of your way to be as androgynous as possible, then don’t be upset if people guess ‘wrong’. I’m just saying.

But back to Paula. I found it very charming when the policeman last night wanted to dance with her and she responded with an “I’m not allowed” (I snickered). She was gratious and fully rooted into this dimension and reality. Eventually Randy and Simon dragged her up to the guy so she would dance but she was such a good sport about the whole thing.

She has gone out of her way to find something positive from some absolutely hideous auditions and I think that’s wonderful. She even tried to coach the boy with no teeth but he wasn’t having any.

Paula baby, you’re back on my playlist and cocked (no pun intended), locked and ready to rock in my CD player. I’m feeling the Vibology.

Earl and I have played it very low key today. We’ve basically done nothing, save for eating, getting laundry done and picking up the house. I’ve messed around with my computer, Earl has watched football and is now off to his weekly poker game. I haven’t even showered. I don’t think I smell bad.

Despite our laziness, we’re both in a great mood and ready for the work week. Sometimes you just need some down time.

I think I’m in a little bit of a mood today. Actually, I know I’m in a mood today. And it’s rather foul.

I try not to be foul. I try to be the happy, go-lucky, awwww shucks, swell type but sometimes there’s just a rant stirring inside of me that must be unleashed. For the first time ever I found work to be somewhat irritating and I’m sick of counting calories and fat grams so I’m going to let myself just enjoy my supper tonight and not obsess about what I am eating. Add the fact that Earl was out of town last night so I had to sleep without my favorite teddy bear and I’m finding myself rather snappish.

So BEAR with me but there’s some things going on in the world that I must get off my chest.

First of all, “ha ha ha ha ha Bush Lite!” Bin Laden made another tape and released it to the world, complete with threats of death and destruction. The man is a monster (Bin Laden, not Bush, the latter being somewhat debatable) and is damn near a perfect picture of Evil with a capital “E”, but the Bush administration wants us to forget about him and the fact that he’s still running loose in the world and concentrate on the people of Iraq instead as we introduce them to our (proper?) version of the Messiah. “Don’t look at the lunatic behind the curtain! He’s not important! It was Iraq! It was Iraq!”

Secondly, because of said activities in Iraq, there is a reporter from the Christian Science Monitor being held hostage with a mortal deadline of tomorrow. That just sickens me. I may not agree with the Christian Science Monitor, I don’t agree with the Iraqi war. I may think that it’s somewhat foolish to try to “get the scoop” in a war zone, but to hold someone’s life in the balance like that is very sickening. May the Universe save her.

Then we have municipalities here in Upstate New York looking to form their own utility companies, instead of relying on corporations like National Grid (which recently took over Niagara Mohawk), simply because utility bills are skyrocketing at an unprecedented rate this winter, and it’s not even cold outside! There are senior citizens living on their social security checks alone and finding that their energy bills are more than their entire monthly income! Now that’s showing respect to our elders if I’ve ever seen it before. Big corporations = big profits for corporations = begging and starving elderly! Beautiful.

While I’m on the topic of energy, I am officially boycotting a local oil company because they are artificially inflating the prices in the local market. They routinely raise their prices 3 or 4 cents above surrounding gas stations. The dumb folks around here still go to them, because after all, they are the most prevalent in the area, and then the other gas stations say “if they can raise the price 3 or 4 cents and still get business, them I’m going to also!” so then the price of gas goes higher for everyone involved. You can drive 20 miles in any direction from here and find the price of gas drop 10 to 20 cents per gallon. It’s horrible.

And lastly, it has been reported that the government wants access to logs of user’s searches on Google, in an effort to curb pornography on the internet away from children. HELLO! I don’t know about you, but I do not want Condocranky Rice browsing through logs of what I searched for on the internet, even if all I do is find answers to my Unix questions. (That’s what we all use Google for, right? Pornography? Why, I never even thought of that!) When did it become the responsibility of our government to raise our children? Funny, I always thought that it was the responsibility of the parents to raise the children. If you don’t know what your children are doing on the internet, you can’t figure out to know what your children are doing and you can’t do anything about it, then you shouldn’t have a computer in your house in the first place. If you can’t run the damn thing, then stay the hell away from it or learn how to surf responsibly and safely. This scenario is like expecting the government to keep track of the fact that you subscribe to Cinesleaze on the cable network, ignore the parental controls built into your cable box and then have a fit when your kid stumbles across a man, two women and a collection of bare breasts on the screen. Rumor has it that they’d also like to track how much anti-Bush Administration stuff there’s out there on the internet, but as I say, that’s just a rumor.

I feel a little better after getting all that off my chest. Thanks for listening.

I have a habit of judging people. It’s not a habit that I’m proud of and I certainly shouldn’t be judging anyone on cursory observations, but it’s just something I do and I keep to myself. Except when I write about it in my blog of course.

For instance, consider the people that work in the same building as I do.

We have three doors at the main entrance of our building. In the middle is large, revolving door which is flanked by two standard doors. The revolving door is the “old kind” in that a little effort must be given in order to actually push the door to make it revolve so that you’re not stuck in the middle part looking like a window display on Fifth Avenue.

Quick side note: believe it or not, I’ve seen people push the door a little bit expecting it to start moving on its own and after a few moments do realize that something is wrong once they’re stuck between the inside and outside between two panels of the door. They finally figure out that a little effort is required and starting pushing the door, which contradicts my theory that…

… People that don’t use the revolving door are dumb, people that do use the revolving door are smart.

There’s a couple of reasons the revolving door is there. First of all, it gives the appearance of a classy building. Important places have revolving doors. “There’s no common door to our building, we’re too good for that, we have a fancy revolving door.”

Secondly, revolving doors keep the outside air on the outside and the inside air on the inside. At a place such as the Carrier Dome, which is somewhat pressurized, this is important so that the roof doesn’t come crashing down on 60,000 football spectactors. In a building such as the office building I work at, it helps keep the temperature in the lobby under control; in the winter the warm air stays in and the cold air stays out. Using the standard doors on either side defeats any attempt at a happy environment in the building lobby. “Boy, I wish the landlord would heat this lobby!”, clueless people think.

The other day when it was extremely windy outside, I heard a woman complain that the standard door was hard to push open to get out of the building because the wind was holding it shut. She really felt that the landlord should build a vestibule of some sort so that the entrance of the building was protected from the wind. I bit my tongue to refrain from pointing out a couple of things to her; the entrance of the building is inset into the rest of the building by about 15 feet, creating an outside vestibule to protect those coming and going by the elements until they can get appropriate raingear or whatever on.

Secondly, the revolving door works just fine in windy conditions because that’s what it’s designed for.

So at quitting time when the offices in our building are emptying out and people are pushing those standard doors open and complaining about the cold air blowing in, I’m going to continue to bite my tongue and refrain from telling them that they should be using the revolving door. But I’ll continue to think that they’re a little dumb, stumbling through life without a clue as to what is going on around them.

I’ll save my theories on elevator etiquette for another time.

It’s amazing what a good attitude can do for one’s day. Why here it is after 12 noon already! The day is humming along nicely. This morning I went into the office with three primary goals. The first was to get my desk as organized as my state of mind this past weekend. So while I was Mr. Homemaker Saturday and Sunday and doing all sorts of domestic chores, I took that attitude into the office and did the same. I filed away extraneous papers, I cleaned out useless e-mail messages and I labeled file folders and folder bins. I wiped 18 months of crud off the back of my computer and I basically just got my workspace comfortable and organized again. The change is refreshing and my water cup no longer sticks to my desk.

Today is the day that two of our tech support groups combine into one and I approached the integration with a positive outlook and an open mind. At the very least there’s a huge opportunity for learning with this re-organization, as while we were for the same company, our two groups supported different types of customers (voice and data circuits vs internet and network connectivity). I believe our two groups now unified, while having different approaches to similar tasks, can learn from each other and be one step further ahead in this rat race we call the telecom industry.

And lastly, I’m pushing negative vibes and gloomy thoughts aside and ignoring them. I’ve jokingly (at least I think jokingly) been referred to as “Mary Sunshine” around the office in the past because of a positive outlook, a springy step and a smile on my face. Perhaps others not as content in their job would find me a little much. I don’t care. Enjoying your work makes the day go by much faster, helps you sleep better at night, makes the atmosphere around the office much more amicable and probably aids in digestion as well. A number of years ago I was known as the “Gloom and Doom Guy” because I always looked at the negative side of a situation. I like to think that I’ve changed since then and am now a positive influence on those around me.

I don’t know why I’m feeling more upbeat today; it could be because I’m eating healthier, I’m wearing new clothes or because the sun is shining. Who cares? Life is good.