Discretion.

I believe that under the right parameters, social media has a spot in the workplace, especially for folks in technology related fields and positions. One of the greatest assets at my job is that fact that if I am stuck on building a piece of code or trying to find documentation on a very old piece of equipment that I am trying to integrate into our network, I am able to reach out to others that have had the same kind of experience, whether it be through a Google search or reaching out on Twitter or a conversation in an IRC chat with geeks like me. This is one of many reasons that I have my Twitter account. I know that there are folks that like to use Twitter as an “enhanced chat room” where they publicly trade quips back and forth and occasional post photos of various parts, and that’s fine, but my personal work ethic dictates that that sort of interaction needs to be confined to off hours. It’s just the way I roll.

One other thing that I enjoy about Twitter (which is my favorite of the big, primarily word-based social networks), is that if you follow the right people, you’ll learn of news pretty quickly. I turn to Twitter before anywhere else when I hear that there may be late breaking news. When we had the little earthquake last year I saw “Earthquake!” (from a person in Virginia) on my Twitter feed at the same time as it was happening in the office. Kind of cool. I love following Twitter during political debates, discussions and other such events. I have a Twitter list set aside for my growing political information habit and that’s what I usually have scrolling by on my desktop. Oddly enough, these bits of information usually keep me focused on the task at hand, because it keeps my mind wandering when I’m doing tasks that don’t require a lot of brain cycles. It’s just the way I’m wired.

I was working on The Big Project yesterday when I saw my supervisor’s reflection in my super glossy monitor. He was standing behind me and that doesn’t really bother me because he’s a good guy and I enjoy working with him. I went to look someone up on iChat so we could drop them a line when my Twitter feed popped up over another window. Unfortunately, the Twitter name of the latest update was a little suggestive.

Oops.

Though it’s known that I follow Twitter at work for the reasons mentioned above and nothing was said about what had appeared on my screen, I felt somewhat ashamed of myself because I don’t believe that that sort of activity belongs in the workplace. Though I’m a goofball, I still believe that a high level of professionalism should always be maintained and this little thing was not demonstrating my beliefs. So last night I decided to clean out some of the racier accounts that I follow on Twitter and to make doubly sure that nothing like that happens again, I created a separate Google Talk account so that I could continue chatting with the vendor that uses Google Talk without having my former Google+ contacts pop up on the chat window list (what’s that about, anyways).

I always worry about offending people when I unfollow them on a social network, because it’s kind of like a slap in the face, especially without an explanation. And because I’m already rather selective as to who I follow on Twitter and the like, it’s not a huge deal for me, but nevertheless, I felt that this particular incident was less stellar than I strive for when I reach for the stars.

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Schedule.

I’m writing this blog entry nearly two hours later than usual. While I am very grateful that I have found room in today’s hectic work schedule for a lunch break, there is a small voice in the back of my head that reminds me that I am entitled to a lunch and that I should always find time to enjoy an hour of solace during the day. There’s an even louder voice that reminds me of my need for iced tea and to make it’s point my head hurts a little bit. The Dunkin’ Donuts iced tea will help this problem, though it’s kind of a shame that I’m getting caffeine headaches again.

I keep thinking about the fact that tomorrow is Friday. I’m proud to say that it appears that I am surviving the first full work week I’ve had since the week before Thanksgiving, but I still don’t know who decided that we should do this work five days/get two days off thing that is the accepted norm in society. Personally, I would function better under a 4 on/3 off schedule, but that’s just the way I work. I’ve never been able to function inside the box that everyone else lives in. It’s one of my quirks, like mashed potatoes for breakfast. (Oh sure, but when Laverne drinks milk and pepsi, the laugh track goes on and on in an uproar.)

My sister asked about the Big Project that I am working on at work. There have been some twists and turns along the way, but my big presentation was on Tuesday and it went well. There’s much to be done to make the program behave the way I want it to behave, but the first implementation begins in less than a week and for those used to Windows it should work just fine. I had hoped to knock out a few thousand lines of code today, but I have been in one meeting or another since 8:15 this morning. I was even in one meeting about when we were going to have meetings. It was boring.

Having lunch at 1:30 in the afternoon kind of rocks my world a little bit because I am very much a creature of habit. It’s kind of like being forced to sleep on the wrong side of the bed, you get things done but it just feels wrong.

The iced tea is good, though.

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Strike A Pose.

I was going through old photos on the hard drive and I had completely forgotten about this poster photo from 2008. Ah, the old DJing days.

Strike A Pose.

Badge.

Remember the first, second season episode of “The New Adventures of Wonder Woman” where Diana Prince returns to the United States in the 1970s? Jimmying her way into the IADC as an agent needs a little bit of covert work. One of her accomplishments is that she is able to gain access to the room that houses IRAC, the Information Retrieval Associative Computer. She does this by remembering the tones uttered by the security keypad as she is being given a tour of the facility. Without looking at the keypad, she is able to remember the musical sequence and press the buttons in the exact same order when she manages to get to the security door alone.

I do not possess this skill.

Like many technologically oriented business facilities, the building I work in is protected by various security measures, including our keycard work badges. We are required to wear our badges at all time and they are needed to gain access to the building. Because I work in one of the Network Operations Centers, we need our badge to gain entry through that door as well. Not everyone’s badge gains access to this inner part of the building, but my badge has been so blessed.

I left my badge sitting on the kitchen counter today.

I was not able to make the screeching noise that the keycard mechanism makes when it recognizes your badge. I don’t think the mechanism even works that way. I also confirmed that neither my body (nor my personality) is magnetic enough to make the keycard thingee do it’s thing without having my badge.

Forgetting my badge is just a symptom of my day, as I have forgotten a couple of things along the way today, including my hat and gloves. This has made for a chilly walk around the parking lot during our twice-a-day attempts at exercise during breaktime.

I have forgotten my badge once before in the nearly two years that I have worked in this building. It’s not a big deal; you smile and kid around with the person that holds the visitor badges for a moment and they’ll scold you a little and let you use one of those badges that day. I don’t mind that except that when I introduce myself I’m tempted to say that my name is Anonymous. The card reader doesn’t know who I am, it just knows that I’m a friendly visitor. The real problem with using the visitor badge is actually obtaining one. To do this, you kind of have to lurk around the entrance and then do a little shimmy to get in behind a co-worker who thoughtfully remembered their badge. I’d mention that it’s kind of a like a terrorist move to gain access to Fort Knox, but I don’t want people to think that I am a terrorist because I’m not. I just know how to shimmy in behind another person. I would never use my powers for evil.

Now if I could just figure out how to make that screeching sound.

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Fuzz.

One of the top news stories of the day includes the proclamation that male ‘cast members’ at the Disney properties in Florida and California will be allowed to wear beards beginning the first week of February.

Now, before I get into my intended direction of this blog entry, I am going to step aside one moment to share my initial thought when seeing this story all over the media today. The fact that a few thousand men are allowed to grow facial hair while employed by an entertainment company makes the top headlines across our country is sad. There are many, many, many more important things going on in our country today, and a few whiskers is not really one of them. That being said, here I am writing about this topic on my blog, though I’m not really a news outlet more than a literary fart, so I guess that’s what my blog is about.

I’m not shy of the fact that I like facial hair. I have always liked looking at guys with beards and mustaches and since it naturally grows there, one would assume that it’s suppose to be there. Removal of the beard is contrary to nature, and while I find the act of shaving to be very fascinating (despite my attraction to beards and mustaches), it goes without saying that society as a whole sees a clean-shaven man as a more clean-cut man. It’s a stereotype that is not really that true but the stereotype is still there.

Back in the beginning of the ’00s, Disney started allowing men to wear mustaches. Prior to that, male employees had been required to be clean shaven since 1955. Walt Disney wanted to distance Disneyland, and later, Walt Disney World, away from the carnivals of the day, where scruffy looking men acted in shady ways. He wanted to show his parks were different, and the male grooming standards were part of that. Hence, the clean shaven rule in ’55. The mustache allowance at the beginning of the 21st century made sense in a way, since Walt himself had a mustache for the majority of his adult life. A man with a mustache can still look clean-cut in his Disney cast member uniform or costume, especially when the ‘stache is groomed to Disney’s dress code standards. (Hipsters are out as waxed handlebars aren’t allowed).

One of the beauties of visiting a Disney property is that it’s an escape. When you pass through the gates of WDW and the road signs go from green to purple-with-mouse-ears, you’ve left the real world behind and you’re about to enter a magical place where the colors all match and are even brighter, there’s music in the air everywhere you go and everyone has a smile on their face and not a care in the world. The magical land of Disney has clean cut folks doing their clean cut thing in their own little world. They’re there to help you lose yourself in their carefully constructed fantasy and accept it as your reality for as long as your wallet can support it. And in that clean cut fantasy in their clean cut world, bearded men are the villains in a cartoon plot. It could be that I’m just hypersensitive to beards because of my attraction to them, but a bearded cast member will be a stark reminder that you are in a temporary (and rather expensive) fantasy that is being painted as reality. It screams “none of this is real!!” Unfortunately, this will bring in all sorts of questions to mind; Does Snow White smoke? Is Mary Poppins really bitchy? Is Mickey REALLY smiling for the photo? You mean there’s a human head holding up the Mickey head? Is this bearded man strapping me into the Tower of Terror a good guy or a bad guy? Am I going to lose my lunch?

Having been to WDW on several occasions (thanks, sweetheart!), I like to say that I become a kid again when we’re there. I’m more outgoing, I’m a little more carefree and quite frankly I don’t give a flip as to what people think about me. It’s the fantasy atmosphere that fuels that letting go. During our last visit I noticed a few chinks in the Disney fantasy façade; the film for “Ellen’s Energy Adventure” is VERY dated, the new cash registers all over the place don’t quite fit where the old ones used to sit, creating weird holes and messy looking displays where the old customer readouts used to be and the burgers seems to be getting smaller while the tab seems to be getting bigger. (Thank god they updated the ‘O Canada!’ film on the back part of Epcot). I see the allowance of beards on men as another chink in the fantasy. The presence of facial hair says it’s just a job for the folks that used to be clean cut fantasy characters. And this makes me a little sad. It just doesn’t feel very ‘Disney’.

If I want to check out beards at Disney, I’ll check out the tourists (and probably sneak a few pictures). I don’t need to be brought back to reality when I’m trying to enjoy my little escape vacation.

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Monday.

So today is Monday and I think this is the first week since before Thanksgiving that I have to work the entire week. Can you imagine? I have to work five out of the five workdays this week. The world has gone mad. Let’s see how I do with trying to be a morning person five days in a row.

This morning I woke up promptly at 5:30 and hit the exercise bike. I’m still really in the mood to do some riding on my road bike out in the fresh air, but it’s not something that is really enjoyable in Central New York in the middle of January. Nevertheless, it is something that I continue to daydream about and this keeps me happy in some way. Riding the exercise bike is ok for trying to keep some sort of exercise in my daily life, but I don’t really feel the psychological benefits that I experience when I ride my real bike. Perhaps I need a wind machine, a large screen television with some footage of the countryside whizzing by and a dash of scent of meadow muffins.

Though I worked many hours this past weekend (in preparation for my Big Presentation tomorrow), we did manage to see a lot of friends in Albany during the semi-monthly “Bear Albany” event. I must be getting old, though, because I decided at a little after midnight that I had had enough merry making and took the shuttle back to the hotel, where I promptly fell asleep after sharing a bag of microwaved popcorn with Earl. There’s a part of me that can’t believe that I used to DJ until 2:30 in the morning (4:00 in some parts of the state) and then after DJing I used to go to after hours parties and be rowdy until dawn.

I think I liked Saturday night’s approach better, because we were able to get back on home on Sunday early, giving me the opportunity to get more work done. Working from home certainly has it’s benefits, even on the weekend.

On the way home from Albany yesterday I suggested to Earl that we sell our house and buy a double-wide in the country somewhere. I was joking about it, but he gave me “the glare” and told me that he would rather live in a tent during a flood (or something equally colorful). I always remind him that I grew up in a single-wide mobile home and he’ll be funny and retort, “I can tell”. I don’t want to actually live in a double-wide, though I would if the budget dictated so; there’s a part of me that hopes that our next abode, wherever it is, is either a house on an isolated peace of land somewhere close the civilization or a loft right in the middle of it all where I can either walk or use public transportation everywhere. I think I’d like to experience living in a big city and trying out that lifestyle for a while once in a my life. It might be a kick.

Plus, I could ride my bike everywhere and then I’d be really happy.

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Organization.

Even though it’s Friday and my head is in a bit of a weekend space, I have to admit that I’ve been rather productive at work today. As I was driving into work this morning, I realized that I had lived up to one of my resolutions from last year, and that was to be more organized, primarily through the Getting Things Done methodology that is touted here on the web. During the year I tried a couple of different software packages that are designed to make your GTD experience as wonderful as possible, but I ended up settling on OmniFocus on the Mac, iPhone and iPad. All of my work and personal stuff is mingled together in this one application and I constantly get reminders and the like of stuff I should be doing or need to accomplish. Last night I had a reminder pop up that told me that I needed to replace the burned out lightbulb in our shower. Before my attempts at being organized I wouldn’t have remembered until I went to take a shower and flicked the switch, only to discover the bulb out, and then I would have had to go streaking through the house and down to the basement to grab a new bulb and done the handyman routine in my birthday suit.

See? I can get mentions of me being naked into even the most mundane topics of a blog post.

Because I was reminded that I needed to do this, I was able to enjoy my shower this morning without worry of not seeing all the relevant parts and I didn’t have an attitude from having to flash the cat as I made my way down into the darkest parts of the house in search of a light bulb.

It’s wonderful when something from a resolution sticks and it works.

Now if I could do something about my spending habits.

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Dreaming.

Earl has been out of town for the past couple of night. While he gets to do the work thing in the lovely city of Buffalo, I have been trying to get a decent night’s sleep in our snug bed at home. This isn’t easy for me to accomplish, as I have mentioned before, because while I have my father’s tendency of being able to sleep in a moments notice, anywhere, I seem to also have my mother’s tendency of them waking up a few hours later so I can roam the halls of the house. I don’t think either of them made ghostly “ooooooo” sounds in the pitch black of the hallway in the dead of night, that’s my own spin on the family traditions. Tom caterwauls to add to the frivolity.

Part of my problem with waking up in the middle of the night is that I’m forcing myself to go to bed when I’m not tired so I can wake up when I am tired and head to work. Someday I’ll fix that problem and have a job that is in sync with my natural circadian rhythms, until then I will continue to exclaim “good morning” to everyone as I return from lunch. Imagine how much better my annual review would be if they actually had me as a productive unit all day long instead of just the afternoon. Hey, I didn’t pick the hours.

So I roamed the halls and the ghostly “oooooo” sound around 2 a.m. last night. I got a glass of water, I changed the water in the cat’s water bowl (as a reward for his contribution to the atmosphere) and I stared out the front window for a few moments to see if the neighbors were doing anything. Gladys Kravitz (the first one) would have been proud, the second one was just too mean to care.

Once I got back to bed I think I fell asleep rather quickly because I don’t remember seeing 2:30 on my iPhone last night, so that’s a good thing. Since I had awoken and then gone back to sleep, the dreams got a little bit funky. I dreamed of being outside with a bunch of people that felt familiar but I couldn’t really name today. It was then that I decided to apparently start singing for everyone in the dream, as they were apparently assembled around some sort of fountain situated in a park. I started singing “Defying Gravity” from the musical ‘Wicked’. The song is a little high for me if I were to sing it in it’s intended octave (I am in no way an alto like Kurt in ‘Glee’, heck I’m not even close to being a tenor) but in my dream my voice was able to soar in ways that it hasn’t soared since elementary school. I remember consciously thinking that I was singing so high and clear and brilliantly and being happy that there was no auto-tune involved.

The song went on for a few moments and I was just happy happy happy in the dream. I got to the bridge and started singing louder, feeling more free and happy as people enjoyed the tune.

And then I woke up.

I woke up because I had startled myself, having started singing the song, in my natural register, at full voice in my bed. The sound of the dream quickly faded away as the sound of reality came in and there I was, nearly standing in the bed (thank god the ceiling fan was off) singing my heart out as if I was standing on stage.

Had Earl been home, the whole production number probably wouldn’t have gotten that far as he’s pretty good at steering me back to bed when I start walking around or otherwise getting rambunctious in the bedroom. It doesn’t happen often but once in a while I start roaming around a bit. I don’t remember having sung songs from Broadway musicals while standing in bed before, but all I can say is that when I woke up I felt blissfully happy for expressing myself in this fashion (in the dream) and that the feeling has carried throughout the day.

I think we might need a baby gate across the stairway though if I’m going to be doing more numbers while the husbear is out of town.

And the ceiling fan must remain off.

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Piracy.

I once worked for a small radio station that had a very limited budget. Because the station was small and just starting out, the record companies didn’t really pay attention to the station. And when a record company doesn’t play attention to the station, they don’t care if you play their latest hot sensation or not. And since they don’t care if you play their latest hot sensation, they don’t give you records (or in our case, CDs) to play. Since everything about the music industry (aside from a selection of genuine artists) is profit generated, they’re not going to waste the few cents needed to give you a CD so that you can play their song, since they don’t care if you’re there because you haven’t built a name for yourself yet. This posed a problem for me as the Music Director of this station, because to have a successful radio station you need to do more than play Debby Boone’s “You Light Up My Life” over and over and over again, especially when you’re going for the young and hip generation (resurgence of bell bottoms notwithstanding).

The limited budget presented to me for promotional purposes and music purchases was $1.46 every two weeks. Actually, I exaggerate, I wish I had that much to spend. I ended up begging and pleading with a local record store to see if they would give me records in exchange for advertising. I ended up with $100.00 a month in “trade”, as we call it. The problem with working with the record store in this fashion was that we didn’t get any new music, we got established music, which was fine, I guess, but when you’re competing with another radio station and you’re throwing lines like “Where the hits hit first” around, you have to live up to the hype.

Enter Napster.

Napster was this new, fun program that let you download songs for free from others. Back in the day, it was cool because you could get tracks that were only available on vinyl as MP3s, meaning we could play the long dance mixes of songs without having to put a turntable in the phone-booth sized studio. In addition, since there seemed to be some unscrupulous people in the music industry, we were able to play leaked tracks of songs that would have never seen the light of day. (Ironically, I’m still kind of proud of two things from my radio career: getting yelled at by a VP at Warner Brothers Records for playing Madonna’s “Music” before it ever hit the street and then having the VP yell at me again a few hours later when he heard us play what is now known as “You Thrill Me”, the demo and unreleased version of Madonna’s “Erotica” single. Like a good gay, I lived dangerously when it came to Madge in her prehistoric years.)

We were kind of walking a fine line when it came to using Napster tracks on the radio station because while radio station music is all marked “For Promo Use Only”, and that’s what we were doing, we didn’t really obtain the music according to the rules. On the bright side, this unfortunate practice did get us noticed by the record companies and actually helped our ratings enough to get us listed in the all mighty Trade Magazines. After this all happened, the record industry cared what we played.

However, there was a part of me that felt really dirty getting ahead in this manner.

I have to admit that as a former radio guy and as a computer programmer, I’m not the biggest fan of illegal obtaining intellectual property. It’s not right. I see it as stealing. I have been given black CD-Rs that were marked “Windows 2000 Datacenter Server” and told to install them for a customer. There was a time when I could type the Office 2000 installation key from memory because the one-use key had been installed on so many different machines. It’s all wrong. I get why folks don’t want their stuff pirated. I’m fine with purchasing music and books and television shows and movies and computer programs, in fact, that’s what I do on a daily basis. I just don’t appreciate it when I’m treated as a criminal for making a copy of a song so I can have a copy on my laptop and on my desktop. I don’t appreciate being told that I should have to buy an extra copy to have a CD with my favorite tracks put together as an album. I don’t like that.

You may have noticed that sites across the internet, including this one, were “blacked out” and urging you to call your elected officials to urge them to vote down the SOPA and PIPA acts passing through Congress next week. These acts, if passed, will give folks the ability to turn down a website, without warning you first, if they suspect that you’re hosting any sort of content that they deem illegal. Essentially any site targeted would have it’s identity removed; you’d have no way of getting to it even though it’s still sitting there, right on it’s server. And this is if they SUSPECT you’re hosting illegal content.

That’s not the way to do things, folks.

Positive reinforcement always garners better results than the converse. Legitimate copies of music should be treated with the respect it deserves and the consumer should be allowed to do with it as he wishes, as long as it’s not violating the normal distribution channels of the associated industry. If you like your friends MP3 collection, let them listen for a while and then let them buy their own copies. We never saw folks sitting at a bus stop reading a Xeroxed copy of “War And Peace”, why would we just make digital copies of our music and throw it out all over the place? Place nice so that the industry learns that they have to play nice.

As a quick aside… the current Congress is the most dysfunctional, unproductive Congress in the history of the United States. Our elected officials know Solitaire and Microsoft Outlook ’97 on their laptops and little more. Do we really want to give the government the opportunity to enact legislation that marks American citizens as criminals when they don’t really get technology in the first place? We don’t want the government in our bedrooms and we certainly don’t want them in our earbuds.

Call your senator or representative today and urge them to vote against SOPA and PIPA. Google it for more information.

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPad