Ponderings and Musings

Earl doesn’t know this yet but we are never stepping foot in the local chain-run movie theatres again. It’s too gross.

These theatres have been around for three years or so and basically put the other big theatres out of business because they’re the only ones that have stadium seating. The popcorn sucks and they don’t show any previews on the big projection screen in the lobby because the theatre workers find it annoying, but the sound in each theatre is decent and hey, it’s basically the only modern game in town.

The problem with this theatre is the with the advertisements they show prior to the previews. Now, the ads are basically a PowerPoint presentation repeating over and over again, so sometimes you get to see the same ads multiple times before the show starts. I don’t mind the ads for the local colleges very much, especially because there’s a really cute bear in a hardhat working in a powerplant in one of them. And I’ve mentioned before that I despise the ads for Open MRIs. “Sweetheart, I must leave RIGHT NOW and get an MRI. I must GO! Watch MI:III without me, I need to have my head examined RIGHT NOW with an Open MRI!” Well now they’ve added ads for varicose vein removals.

Make me barf my buttered and lightly salted popcorn up.

I must be out of touch with reality or something, but I really don’t see the need to have some person’s nasty looking, bump covered, hairy leg plastered up on a movie screen while a doctor draws maps on it with a magic marker, followed by a bird’s eye view of some new medical gizmo that goes down through the vein and pops them out. Why? Why! Why?

Medically related advertisements shouldn’t exist and at the very least they shouldn’t be up on a movie screen in glorious technicolor. I don’t want to hear that you may get explosive bowels if you take a pill that cures acne. I don’t want to perk myself up with a happy purple pill just because it’s raining outside. And I certainly don’t want a bird’s eye view of the innards of someone’s veins while I’m trying to enjoy my popcorn, strategically balanced diet pop and Junior Mints.

So we are going to the local theatre when we stay in town to catch a movie. I don’t care if they forget to turn off the lights when the movie starts. I don’t mind the fact that the screen is in the southeast corner of the theatre and the seats point southwest.

At least I don’t have to watch anyone getting dissected before the show.

Inspired by In The Thick of It this morning, I did further research on the threat to the Internet’s First Amendment: Network Neutraility. Surprisingly, one of the blog entries I came across on the topic belongs to Alyssa Milano. I found her dialog on the subject to be very well written and inspiring.

The news is often peppered with word about how evil the internet is. Sexual predators here, pornography there, here snatch, there a dick, everywhere an ass ass. Yes, there’s a mind-boggling selection of porn on the internet and for those that enjoy it, I say good for you, enjoy it all you want as long as you’re not infringing on the rights of others.

But the real beauty of the internet is that it provides a venue for anyone to say anything about any subject they want. Grandparents sharing recipes, mothers and fathers showing off the accomplishments of their offspring, gays and lesbians letting their voices be heard, it’s all a good thing. Everyone has a voice in the land of network neutrality, without fear of oppression. Of course, this freedom goes hand in hand with personal responsibility, so I’m always advocating telling the truth when you’re out there looking to be heard. It’s easier than having to keep track of a pack of lies.

One of the blogs I read on a daily basis belongs to Rosie O’Donnell. For the past couple of months she’s hosted “Ask Ro”, where you can ask her anything. She answers a number of the questions on just about a daily basis. She doesn’t censor them, we get a chance to see the personal questions and we get a chance to see the hateful (and occasionally unbelievable) comments. I’ve always been a fan of Rosie and as I’ve followed along with her on her blog my admiration for her has grown. She’s doing good things for many different causes. I admire that.

I’m very intrigued by Alyssa Milano’s web site. I’m looking forward to doing more reading tonight, which will probably lead to more celebrity websites being added to my blogroll.

And this is my last pitch – if you believe in a neutral internet, please be sure to visit Move On’s Save The Internet site and let your voice be heard.

You know it kind of sucks when it rains on the weekend. I’ve been making the best of it though by working on my roadgeek website and whatnot, but it’s just not the same as getting out there and enjoying some fun in the sun.

Oh well, tomorrow is another day.

There are people in the world that believe cats and dogs are “just animals”. They have no personality, they have no free will, they’re here to be the pet of a human being. In fact, years ago a woman once chimed in on a newspaper commentary call-in column that animals don’t have a soul. I personally looked that woman up in the local phone book and called her, just to tell her that she’s a cold, cold woman, but that’s another story.

Boy, are those people wrong.

I can say without a trace of doubt in my voice that our cherished feline and canine friends certainly do have a personality. Some of them even have a sense of humor. For example, our cat Tom found a new way to terrorize me in the early hours of the morning today. He now jumps on the weather station control station display in the bedroom, causing it to emit various beeps and bonks as it’s confused about the commands it’s receiving. While I was having a wonderful dream that had something to do with “Charmed”, I was interrupted by Tom’s new game. Stumbling over to the weather station to shoo him off, I was intrigued that he apparently prefers metric, as he had converted the temperature display to celsius and the wind speed to clicks (kmh). I haven’t the foggiest idea on how to do that, or change it back for that matter, so now I have to do math when it comes to determining whether I should wear a parka or board shorts to the office.

A little kitty cat humor.

You’d think that being an older cat he’d be settled in his bag of tricks, but no, he’s blessing us with new things on a weekly basis. Last week, the gentle tap-tap-tap on my chin while I’m sleeping was replaced with a claws-extended push, push, scratch. At least my beard covers any scars that may accumulate through this phase of his. A couple of months ago, he discovered the piano and that walking across the ivories made music. I’m afraid that his next trick will involve sending an e-mail to my family or something. “FOOD SUCKS. SEND SOMETHING TASTY FOR A CHANGE.”

Does this all make me crazy? Not really. Would I change it in any way? Not on your life.

So to those people that don’t see any personality in their cat or dog, I say you’re nuts. Stop treating them as “just a pet” and just let them be. Even if they make things go ‘bonk’ in the night.

Today I had lunch with my friends Susan and Jeff. I used to work at the radio station with them both; Susan still works for the same company and Jeff has moved on to another position in a different industry. I had seen Susan a couple of weeks before the Jeep tour, but I hadn’t seen Jeff in a year or so. It was wonderful to get together with both of them at the swanky restaurant across from my office building. We laughed, shared stories and basically caught each other up with the various states of our existence. It was wonderful.

However, not coming home at lunch time threw my timing all off.

Now, I’m not at the point where I’m going to be going “Time for Wapner, Time for Wapner”, somewhere in the rural midwest. That would just be silly. I don’t think that Judge Wapner is even still alive. But I have a schedule that I like to follow. While I like to live spontaneously as much as possible, I do try to have it all mapped out. I enjoying writing my blog entries as I’m munching down my lunch and playing the “in and out game” with the cat. It keeps me grounded a little bit. Throw me off schedule a little bit and I get all crazy at work and then I actually start thinking about what I’m doing instead of just milling through the day like it’s just another day in paradise. Why, I even used a paper towel AND 409 to clean the schmutz off my desk today, and my elbow wasn’t even stuck down or anything! Today was kind of an odd day at work anyways, as it was the first day of the new experience: taking two different technical support centers and officially uniting them into one unified force to be reckoned with. We’ve been in the same area since the beginning of the year, but now we have to actually interact with one another and work on the same projects as one team. It’s not unpleasant in any way, though there is a learning curve that sometimes I feel is more like a curveball. I think it’s going to go o.k., but today had an odd “first day at the new job” feel to it that was amplified by having lunch with old co-workers.

Tomorrow I’m back on my schedule and taking my lunch hour at home. Maybe I’ll be spontaneous and do it naked or something.

I stuck to my plan and was productive today! The deck is officially decked out with plants and flowers and if I do say so myself, looks quite good.

I even cooked supper tonight and everyone involved survived. I just love grilling out on the deck. I’m thinking of trying to grill a tossed salad this weekend to see how it turns out. Stay tuned.

Tomorrow it’s back to work on the early shift and I’ve just finished my chores so I’m ready to call it a night. Tonight I’m keeping it short and sweet.

I had visions of Earl and I going on a picnic today; just the two of us in the Jeep. We’d take some sandwiches, a little macaroni salad and make some iced tea. We’d frolic in the fields, welcoming the unofficial start to summer.

Instead we worked around the house, getting the deck ready for the season. The debit card has skid marks on it.

When the original owners of our house built the deck, they never completed the project. The floor part is there, it’s a reasonable size and it offers wonderful access to the pool, but they never put a railing on it. So we have posts of varying length sticking up where the railing should go. We decided to do something about the posts. Now don’t get ahead of me now and think that we built the railing and walls and all that. We’re not that handy nor crazy. No, instead we made a virtual railing, installing the hangers for hanging plants and mounting solar powered lamps on top of the posts.

I’m taking the day off from work tomorrow, using a little comp time. Originally I was going to go for a road trip and do some research for my road geek web site. Instead I’ll continue the deck project and buy some plants and such. When I’m through it’ll be “J.P.’s Jungle”.

Sometimes staying local isn’t that bad.

Today is one of those days that I like at work, everyone is gearing up for the long Memorial Day weekend and basically in “maintenance mode”. Half of the people in the office have taken the day off, the other half are doing what needs to get done and then keeping busy with important projects like interjecting comments on the American Idol message board, checking the progress of ebay auctions and searching for a new computer for my their mother on Retrobox. Naturally these are all arbitrary examples that I am unfamiliar with.

Memorial Day has been set aside to remember those that have died in our nation’s service. There are thousands and thousands of men and women that have passed on while fighting for the American Way. While researching Memorial Day on the internet, I found this site which outlines the history of Memorial Day, including it’s official birthplace of Waterloo, New York, not too far west from here. Before reading this I thought Waterloo was cool for being in the famed Finger Lakes and having a big outlet shopping center.

I’ve often wondered why we celebrate Memorial Day by buying cheap refrigerators and low-priced automobiles. At least that’s what the advertisements would have you believe; screw the family picnics and whatnot, you need to get your butt out there and buy something now! I mean, nothing says “remember our fallen heroes” like a cheap Datsun. (Notice the use of an obsolete car manufacturer’s name in order to avoid complaints. I’m so clever.) I mean, does attending a parade through town honor those that have served followed by attending the memorial service at the local cemetary and then going to Montgomery Ward (still clever) for a discounted microwave all go hand-in-hand? “One of these things just doesn’t belong…”, I believe is how the song goes.

Anyways, no matter how you celebrate Memorial Day this weekend, let’s all just take a brief, reflective moment and thank the diety of your choosing for blessing us with the life we have and remembering those that have served our country to make it better.

Then we all can dig into the ribs and baked beans at the family picnic.

It’s 6:29 a.m. I’m on the brink of cowering in fear under the sheets and blankets, knowing that any second the alarm is going to go off, signaling the fact that I need to get out of bed. Being the freak geek that I am, the alarm clock is set to the atomic standard, so it’s right in sync with the local NPR station. The alarm goes off just as their joyous news music kicks in and “This in NPR News, I’m Jean Cochran…” blares out of the 15 year old device.

I’ve been semi-awake for the past 29 minutes as Earl got out of bed at 6:00, stirring Tom, who has been pawing at my face and making noises that sound like he’s been strangled; it’s his way of saying that he’s hungry.

“Shut up! Stop making noise! Leave for work! Don’t you have a breakfast meeting?” my brain screams as I muster all my energy to make an effort to be civil in the morning as I say, “Good morning sweetheart.” I even manage a weak smile. Truth of the matter is, it’s not Earl’s fault that I have to get up and go to work at this ungodly hour of 8:00 a.m. I could easily abandon this lunacy and get a real job as a greeter in a 24 hour Wal*Mart Supercenter, but no, I go for the challenge of a normal workday.

Still trying to be civil, I stumble into the bathroom to do my thing, which makes Tom utter more strangling noises. I tell him “I’m using my litterbox”, trying to use familiar terms for His Impatientness, but he doesn’t care. There’s kibble to be poured.

After putzing around the house and catching up on e-mail and whatnot for a half hour or so, I find the sanctity of the shower. The water is like magic as it washes away the waking crankies. While I won’t be truly awake until after lunchtime, at least I feel like I’m able to make an effort now.

As I was looking at old pictures the other night, I came across this photo from sometime between 1978 and 1980.. It was taken at the local airport where my dad was taking flight lessons at the time. All the guys pictured in this photo had had their weekly flight lesson with the local instructor (in the yellow shirt) as they worked toward their private pilot’s license. A little young for a flight lesson, but always eager to fly, I had sat in the pilot’s seat of the Cessna 150 pictured and had flown the plane with the flight instructor riding along and making sure I kept the plane in the air. He didn’t touch the wheel at all and helped me handle the plane when the stall warning horn went off on take-off.

We didn’t crash.

I vividly remember this picture being taken and feeling for the first time in my life that I was just one of the guys.