Snap!

As promised, some Halloween picture fun!



Our inflatable dinosaur was very excited to get dressed up this year for Halloween.



He also got to hang out in the "black light room"



The thing in the middle is my favorite Halloween decoration. It is a giant cone on a spring and it will bob for 20 minutes with a good thwack.



Our animatronic chicken dressed up as a slasher. He does psychotic pretty well! It was either that or dress him up as the great mambo chicken...



I went as a gangster. If the camera were a little lower, it would have looked like I went as Mickey Mouse.



Linda went as the Grapes of Wrath. Grr.... Grr....



Yes, we had a pinata. A group of adults has a pinata.



Yes, we knocked the holy crap out of the pinata. Upon seeing this particular picture, a good friend remarked "This ends badly, doesn't it". Indeed, it did.


Two of the best costumes of the evening were the "Taco Bell" and "Prince". Its up to you to decide who was who:

Par-tay

Our 5th annual Halloween party was a success. People started coming in around 7pm and the last didn't leave until a little after 2am.

I did something last night that I have not done in a very long time: I got drunk. Oddly, beer, mixed drinks, and hot tubbing will do that to a guy. I woke up this morning at 8:30am (thank goodness for "falling back" this weekend) feeling less than chipper. After something that I will just refer to here as "quality time" I was able to go back to bed.

I just rolled back out of said bed. In a few hours I need to be cleaned up and heading over to my good freind's house to visit his newborn daughter and, hopefully, to reassure her that her "uncle eddie' is not a lush. 8)

Pictures forthcoming.

_Ed

News Ticker

Happy Halloween
The Halloween party is 3 days away and I have no idea what the costume should be. I imagine the host of a costume party should have a costume.

Murderous Mid-terms
The mid-term will be given back tomorrow. Frightfully nervous. Maybe for Halloween I can dress up as someone who dropped ut of graduate school. 8)

Linda

There is something terribly, terribly wrong with my wife: this poor, unfortunate girl has the great misfortune of being married to me.

And that's no laughing matter. Being married to me is no easy task -- I have way too many projects and need to enlist her help all too often. That's right, the draft is alive and well in our household.

What started innocently enough as courtship (you know, cruises and beaches and theatre and movies and inns and nights out) has been slowly replaced. Replaced by what? Apparently, replaced by manual labor.

When we finished the basement in our old townhouse, she was in charge of the mitre saw:


Once the basement was built, we wanted to unpaint, then stain, our townhouse deck. That involved sanding. Lots of sanding. Nerve-damage-inducing sanding. She was there to sand a Herculean number of spindles:


As I was preparing for my JuJitsu black belt test many years ago she even let me toss her around a bit for practice.


When I was too cheap to hire someone to pour the concrete slab for our hot tub, she was there to spread the gravel.


When we did the patio out back, she was the primary sand-tamper:


The screened-in porch wouldn't have gotten a face-lift without her (and my sister Kathy):


And who do you think built up those blocks and mulch on the retaining wall?



So, you see, my poor wife is being worked to death. Many of these projects occured within the last 18 months. But she is a trooper - she never complains, she never quits, and she often does a better job than I. She has a better work ethic and home ethic than people twice her age.

Although, I think you may start understanding her saying:

Ed, being married to you for 2 years is like being married to anyone else for 20!

So this is just a short "shout out" to the wife, to say thank you for being one of the most active, handy and loving people I know.

This one's for you.



"There ain't no act of God, girl, could keep you safe from me"
Marc Cohen
"True Companion"
(Our Song)

*Cough* *Cough*

I've never been a smoker, and I have never fully understood smokers. Especially cigarette smokers.

I have been known to enjoy a very good cigar on a golf course, or in the hot tub. Sometimes a mellow cigar with a hearty red wine is pleasant too. But I probably smoke about three cigars a year, if that.

So, why am I writing a post about smoking? Because this picture that I ran across is hysterical and I wanted to share:



-Ed

Reality Check

*** WHINE ALERT ***
It just occured to me how whiney this post is. I stand by it because, well, I feel like whining. Read at your own risk, you've been warned.
*** WHINE ALERT ***

I hope through reading these blog entries you, my dear reader, have come to learn something about me. Most specifically, that I have now crested the hill of youth and am quickly rolling down the other side into senility. That, truly, is the purpose of this blog, to point out my advancing age.





So, in that vein, here is something that us old-timers don't like very much: somebody telling us whether what we do is right or wrong. Mid-terms are precisely the kind of things that grades whether or not you are doing something wrong. Therefore mid-terms are, quite transitively, something that us old-timers despise.

But they are ahideous fact of graduate-school life and you need to roll up your sleeves and do your best. So I read the 400 or 500 pages out of the textbook to prepare for the mid-term. I read all 7 of the class handouts, which were ~45 pages each, to prepare for the mid-term. I read appendices A, B, and C of our book (150 pages in its own right). I looked through the copious notes that I took in class, to prepare for the mid-term. In that endeavor I found several errors with the teacher's presented materials and an error or two in the textbook itself.

Two hours before the mid-term I re-did every problem set problem and "practice" problem handed out. I can draw things on a white-board that would make your hair turn grey. I was ready. What more could one human being possibly do to prepare for such a mid-term. I gloriously envisioned myself walking out of there after 20 minutes.

And then God hit the smite button.

We hear the word "smite" quite a bit. Do we really know what smite means? Certainly it can mean a heavy blow. It can also mean to affect deeply: He was "smitten" by her beauty.

Yes, Thursday night I was smitten. I was deeply, deeply affected by the randomness and cruelty of that midterm. We had 3 hours to answer 11 questions. About 2.5 hours into the exam I was the second one finished. 11 problems! Surely they all must have had sections a-z in them to make it take that long! Sadly, no.

90% of the course material covered was not represented in the mid-term. The meat of the course was completely skipped over in favor of a series of "gotcha" questions from the fringes of the classroom discussion. Ouch. Double ouch.

I haven't taken a mid-term in 9 years and I just got rocked.





I was able to remember a few of the questions after the mid-term, and I have recreated them here for your enjoyment.

1. Recall the difference between a Princeton and a Harvard architecture. Using this terminology, tell me what I had for lunch today.

2. Look up at me and raise your hand. Observe me at the desk. Now, tell me what I am thinking. Please note the time you did this, so I can correlate it to my memory.

3. blank Yup. Nothing. Just: #3 (20points):


I think I got #3 correct -- I answered "What is the sound of one hand clapping?"

So, apparently, I am old and cranky. A popular combination amongst my demographic.

-Ed

Senior Discounts

That cartoon is a little too universally applicable to be funny. Or maybe that's exactly why it is funny. The only question I have about the work is why on earth did he choose to "decorate" the cartoon woman to his right in that fashion??

---

I got a promotion at work yesterday. I'm now a "senior" member of the staff. I was trying to explain this to a friend of mine, and the conversation went something like this:

Ed: I got a promotion yesterday. I am now a "senior" member of the staff.
Friend: That's terrific. Congratulations. What are your new responsibilities.
Ed: Um.. I am now a senior member of the staff.
Friend: Yes. Good for you. Will you be doing anything different?
Ed: I can call myself a senior member of the staff.
Friend: Will you get any kind of pay raise with this promotion?
Ed: I might, now, qualify for the senior discount in the cafeteria.
Friend: Are there any compensational benefits to this promotion?
Ed: After I have worked there 5 years I get an extra week of vacation if I am a senior member of the staff, which I am!
Friend: Oh, well, how long have you been there?
Ed: 2 years. So, in another 3 years, that senior designation will kick right in!
Friend: Oh.. well.um. yes. congratulations. yes... congratulations...

That is of course, a little tongue in cheek. I work in an academic institution where there are two types of compensation: financial and reputational. APL has been good to me financially, and they are giving me a free ride to graduate school. Reputationally there are three things you can be at APL, an associate member of the staff, a senior member of the staff, and a principle member of the staff. You need to have worked qat the lab for at least 2 years before you are even considered for senior, so I guess I just made it on my anniversary.

While I have not been there long enough to learn how best to leverage reputation, I know I have one and I know in most circles there it is a positive one. I'm sure it will come in handy before my 5 year "extra week of vacation" anniversary.

And, if not, the designation of senior can just be one more thing reminding me of my advancing age.

_Ed

Tired. So very very tired

The Mr. E. function went off last night. Some good, some bad. Apparently, this wasn't so much of a bull roast as a small gala. What is the difference? A bullroast has lots of people who know each other, people who drink, and people who want to have a good time. A small gala has a small number of predominantly older people who want to do little other than listen to jazz. It just wasn't our kind of crowd.

The small subset of non-retirees who joined in our fun had an absolutely fantastic time and thanked us for the unique experience. Nevertheless, we got no where near the participation we had hoped for.

You win some, you lose some. We have a viable product, we just need to find a viable customer base. 8)

-Ed

Israel Kamakawiwo'ole

I don't get the chance to watch much television (which makes my home-built tivo a bit of a paradox -- but someone has to chronicle the discovery channel 24/7). I can get into dramadies as well as anyone -- but have always had a hard time justifying the downtime to myself. Hopefully there will be better things to put on my headstone than:


Here lies Ed,
Every episode of Seinfeld
Was in his head


I will admit that sometimes there are television moments that stick with you: The season finale of Six Feet under, the epsiode of Dallas where our parents found out who shot J.R., and the death of Dr. Greene from ER.

The thing I most strongly remember about that episode -- the reason why it has stuck in the ol' noggin for so long -- is the rendition of "somewhere over the rainbow" that accomanied the episode. A few years ago I decided to track the song down.

That terrific, simple version is by one Israel Kamakawiwo'ole. Apparently, this was Israel's "big hit" and ended such movies as "You've Got Mail", "Finding Forrester", "Meet Joe Black", and "50 First Dates". But, I'll always associate this late Hawaiian singer with Dr. Mark Greene:






You should check out some of his stuff. It's good chill music, and God knows, we all need a little chill music sometimes.




_Ed

Building a Mr.E.

There is a special kind of day that I look forward to in the fall and early winter. The day must be overcast and cloudy. It must be chilly, but not freezing. Perhaps a cool 58 or 60 degrees outside. There should be a light mist in the air, perhaps even the slightest of drizzles.

On those days there is mystery in the air.

I own a small company that performs murder mystery weekends.





For years we did them publicly at Deep Creek lake. For financial reasons we always did them in November (that single month comprises their cheaper "off season"). The preparations for these weekend were enormous, involving character scultping and customer interaction months before the event. The customized, interactive weekends fetched a decent penny (in 1999 we were charging upwards of $800 a couple) although, in truth, we could have charged far more. The weekend itself wa exhausting. Multiple murders, multiple characters, hundreds of sub-plots, hundreds of custom-made clues, dozens of planned events. It was an incredible amount of work, but we all loved it.

Unfortunately, the chance to do such monolithic events waned in the past few years, but it has started to pick back up again. We've been asked to test pilot a product we came up with for a single-night mystery. This coming Friday will be out test run at a local Bull Roast. We'll have to see how it goes.

It would be nice to walk out onto a drizzle, cloudy, cold day next month and feel like I am, once again, part of some mystery endeavor instead of remembering parties past.

-Ed

Wow

BEST ANIMATED GIF EVER



Sorry, I was a fan of batman growing up and this just sorta captures the entire TV show in just a few seconds.

-Ed

Happy Anniversary

I was all ready to put forth a "Happy Anniversary" post to my blog, to celebrate the first six months of my vanity press. In true Ed fashion, however, I have missed the mark by a week (but exactly a week) so I would like to present you with my "six month and one week anniversary posting".





We've come a long way, baby.

So, how do we celebrate six months of blogging bests? Why, with a clip-show, of course. So here it is, a "top ten" listing of the blog entries I have been the most proud of in this past half year. And, like any lazy clip-show, I've included some editorial comments to give at least the impression of creativity.

If you've read these blogs before, read them again -- I do, and these are the ones that speak about me the most. If you haven't read them before, get that mouse moving -- you have catching up to do.

1. Digital Timecapsules - The one quote from Dead Poet's Society has stayed near and dear to my heart. And I have always been a fan of Walt (though he was crazy as a loon).

2. Always Spread Your Condiments -- This was my first attempt at writing something experientially. And I love the little horseradish cartoon. It isn't so much my favorite prose as it is a personal writing milestone.

3. Hard Core Journalism -- Something about large, orange floating sausages cracks me up. I can get away with it because this is a blog that gets 10 hits a day if I'm lucky. But CNN? Gimmie a break! 8)

4. If You Build It -- Trying to convey to others the rush and enthusiasm I have for some of my projects, even the mundane ones, has been on of the most persistent challenges I've faced so far.

5. Going to Turkey For a Haircut -- Hey, I'm funny! A few week sago I went back for another hair cut and got the same guy, and the same results.

6. Ray -- To date, Ray has made no more appearances. So many times we find ourselves looking the other way that I was surprised to catch myself still looking for him just last week.

7. How the West was Won -- Mother, thy name is necessity. (no, not you mom, I was being metaphoric...)

8. Life's Fireworks -- Still looking, and still calling myself a dork for doing so.

9. Broke into the Old Apartment -- I loved the confines of my old apartment. A big house is nice, believe me, and in about 10 minutes I will be sitting in my hot tub forgetting such nonsense. However, there are times when I would love to go back to the simplicity of those 700 square feet.


10. Life Uncommon -- It's odd, as I get more familiar with my digital self I've found newer ways to be honest with myself on just why I do things.

Happy six-month-and-one-week anniversary, blog. I was looking for a digital diary, but you've given me a great deal more: you've helped me understand myself a little better, you've helped explain me to others, let me stay in contact with those I don't see much, and, according to the stats counter, made me quite popular in Malaysia.

I can't wait to celebrate your one-year-and-two-week anniversary.

-Ed

A blog by any other name

I was having a short conversation today with someone after one of my graduate classes on the benefit of communication skills in the field of computer science. The consensus? Yes, it is nice to be able to communicate to both people and computers and often the human-human interface is more difficult than the human-computer interface.

I was remembering that, at one point in my life, computers were simply a means to a literary end. For a very large portion of my life I just wanted to be a writer. The summer after 8th grade I sat down and wrote a 300 page book, which is comfortably sitting in a drawer someplace in my mother's house. Prized prose? Hardly, but in this instance I think it really is the thought that counts. 8)

So in this conversation on writing code or writing prose it was brought up "well, you have your blog". Which struck me, as I have always thought of this space as personal reflection, event chronicalling, and mental exhibitionism. But never as a way to practice and express my desire to write.

Let's face it, literary boot camp this ain't... Or is it? I've been proven wrong before.

But it brings up a good point and one that I have personally struggled with for some time: what are and are not appropriate outlets? Rarely does a single endeavor give us the spectrum of experience we need to feel whole. In just the past few years my outlets have been martial arts, digital video editing, furniture building and general woodworking, PVR building, ballroom dancing, murder mystery acting, and, more recently, graduate schooling and blogging.

But, as previously blogged on here, there is a difference between intelligence and wisdom. Quite similarly, there is a rather large gap between the accumulation of knowledge and the catharsis we seek from our outlets. Does this blog give me the emotional purge I occaisionally need? Sometimes yes, sometimes no. So the jury will have to remain out on the question of whether blogs satisfy the need to write.

_Ed

Exhausted

Yesterday was interesting. We had a minor concern at work. I was up at 7am, and spent many hours in a small room with a few people working on solutions. By the time 7pm rolled around I was mentally and emotionally exhausted. The idea that I would be looking forward to my 7pm-10pm class would be a bit.. far fetched.





Something odd happened to me last night in class: I completely spaced out. Totally. I had no idea what I was doing, what I was saying, or why I was saying it. I was running, essentially, on auto-pilot and (apparently) I need to go out and purchase a new auto-pilot.

So, let me self-indulge for a moment and give you some of the wit and wisdom which spilled from me during a discussion-intensive class last night. I will convey these sadly accurate quips in the form of lessons learned from a foggy class.

Lesson 1: Only answer a question you've heard.

Lightly nodding off, I noticed the teacher had asked a question. I did not hear the question. I heard the last word of the question:

"... negotiate?"

Scanning the room for people to answer the question, my teacher made eye contact with me, which woke me up. Startled, I then raised my hand and was called on to answer the question. Unfortunately, I had no idea how to answer the question: "... negotiate?" . As recognition of my predicament crept over me, I must have adopted a rather horrified look on my face. As recognition of my predicament crept over my teacher, a rather amused/befuddled look came over his face. After an uncomfortable silence I made a stab at what the question might be:

Ed: When do you know that you need to negotiate?
Teacher: ?? No. Under what conditions could you find yourself unable to negotiate?
Ed: Oh! Um.. when your customer doesn't know what they want.

Brilliant, Ed. Brilliant.

Lesson 2: Just because you have gone vegetative, don't bring vegetables into the discussion.

We began discussing the "requirements" of building a car. What might some requirements be? A minimum top speed? A fuel efficiency? Someone said "4 tires". Someone else noted that 4 tires might be a design not a requirement (You might be able to build a car with 3 tires, or 5, and meet the same requirements). This led to an interesting side-bar: If the customer is pushing design into your requirements when do you push back -- or do you push back.

As a class, struggling against this "problem of the ages", we needed a brilliant observation -- something to really create spark in our eager, open minds. Oh yes... groggy Ed to the rescue...


There are times when a customer may ask for something that goes against the wisdom of relevant domain experts -- unless the customer is a domain expert who is trying something new. Using our car example, if the customer said "I want to use a hollowed-out head of lettuce as a gas tank" that just isn't going to work.

Hard to argue with that logic, isn't it... Although, upon relating this nugget of wisdom to my wife she replied: "Maybe if the requirements were to build a more environmentally friendly car the customer would be correct." Thanks, hon!

Lesson 3: Sometimes abstract is enough

You can tell how tired I am at any given point by measuring the abstractness that I inject into any given endeavor. When I am fresh, sharp and energized I quickly hone in on the universiality of a point. This lets me try my best to make my point applicable to more people, in more situations. As I get more and more tired the abstraction is replaced by more and more concrete examples.

A question was posited: When do you stick to a requirements due date and when do you give people more time?


Divide your requirements up by logical segment (interface, algorithms, reports, etc...) and then assign colors to them. The segment is RED if requirements are up in the air, and yellow if things look pretty firm, and green if everything is stabilized. If you hit your due date and are all RED RED RED, you need to extend it. But, if you are mostly GREEN with a few YELLOWS, you can probably start the project. Even if you are all YELLOW that is probably good enough. But you probably want to push the due date back if you have any REDs.



wow. Who knew requirements negotiation could resemble a game of twister?

-Ed

Be Our Guest

Growing up I never had a desire to play "dress up". Somehow I missed the lure of cowboy hats and superman capes. I was always content to be just plain ol' me.

Clearly, there was a time in early childhood when (as an avid, avid fan of Batman) I would have to wear the batman mask and cape. However, you have to realize that was not a choice: as the child version of batman incarnate the uniform was duty and obligation, nothing more.

So, no. As a child I never played "dress up". There was an unfortunate event in my still-early-but-later childhood involving an older-sister-custom-sewn elf outfit and some pictures in the woods. I'll leave the mental image as an exercise to the reader. Let it suffice to say that I went kicking and screaming. I can still hear my dad's angry voice from behind the camera:


"Damnit, Ed. Peek out from behind the tree and look playful!"


So, no. As a child, I never played "dress up". Although, in retrospect, I do feel an obligation to mention underoos:



I (like most kids, I imagine) never understood that underoos were underwear. The package said "The Hulk" on the front. It was clothing for kids. It never crossed my still-growing mind that the shirt was nothing more than a green tee with the words "The Hulk" emblazoned across the front. To don such magnificent plumage only to cover it with "real" clothes seemed anathema. So I would constantly run around the yard as a kid wearing nothing but my underoos. Since underoos are not costumes that cannot possibly count as dress-up. Exhibitionism, maybe... but not dress-up.

As a young adult I have shied away from dress-up. Having to wear a suit and tie ever day to high school does not count. That was a uniform. In college that old cow costume I wore was not playing dress up. It was used at halloween, and that doesn't count. Even when it was worn in June, for no good reason, with a group of friends, eating lunch in a McDonalds, it wasn't dress up. Why not? The reason escapes me.

Several years ago when I painted myself "burnt umber" to play the part of portly Indian archeologist Dr. Arthur E. Phack (Art-e-phack) at one of my murder mysteries:


that was not dress-up. No. That was serious work.

So last Friday night when we had an old coworker/boss of mine over for dinner we were clearly not playing dress up. We scrubbed the first floor until the house looked orderly. Scented candles were lit. Smooth background music was playing in the background. A nice bottle of red was decanting and we had a ready-made tray of cocktails. Linda makes a mean crab dip. I was rather proud of my port-wine reduction for the steaks.

What I found is that Linda and I like to cook. We like to make different atmospheres for different company. We're a bit young at it, but I think we did a good job. On poker nights its "beer and pizza and come as you are". Sometimes a little "break out the smooth jazz and china" doesn't hurt either.

And, of course, none of it is dress-up.

-Ed

I'll live

Apparently, the ol' ticker is in pretty good shape. I guess I'm normally abnormal!

_Ed

Ouch

I had my stress test today and, apparently, passed with a normal EKG. My blood pressure was a little higher than desired towards the "uphill vertical sprint" that is "level 4" , but not horribly so, and it came down again immediately after the test was finished.

Far worse was the preparation. As a guy with a reasonably hairy chest, I had the indignity of having a LARGE SQUARE shaved off of my chest. I look like part of a deranged chess board.

Now, hot-tubbing company is coming over on Friday and I'm left with the rather odd choice of shaving my chest bare (ewwww) or having the equivalent of a rectangular crop circle on my chest. *sigh*

_Ed