Snagged in the (Inter)Net

STAR TREK WIDGET

2009-02-19T17:02:00.001-05:00

It never pays to be an early adopter...

2009-02-04T22:41:00.003-05:00

I've often lamented that I'm too cheap to be an early adopter of technology. The Palm Pilot was obsolete before I dove in ad bought the M105 handheld, but when the Zire71 was released, I was quick to get my order in. Zire72? I ordered one for my wife -- the special edition with a gold stylus. Now I'm on a Palm Centro and loving it. The jury's still out on the new Palm Pre. Verizon isn't diving in, so it doesn't matter to me -- yet.

When it comes to larger computers, I live WAY back from the cutting edge. I build yesterday's desktop for 1/5 of the cost of a cutting edge system, and it's still pretty blindingly fast enough for me. But I wish I could have the faster 2500.00 cutting edge ride with obscene graphics and slick looks. Nope, I'm still running on a beige box here. :-)

But when the word came down that the TV was going to go dark -- that got me hopping. If the signal's gonna stop, you HAVE to do something about it, right?

I see a forced conversion to digital as a reason to jack the prices on TV's, and from what I've seen, it's worked pretty well. The Digital converter box voucher was a nice touch, and I got mine and went out and bought my two boxes. I had to pay more than the voucher was worth -- No surprise. But I'm ready. When the country goes digital in two weeks, I'll be right there with all the other early adopters. Every one of ... wha? What's that you say? Congress what? June?

NO!

Anybody remember the impending change to the metric system in the US? Any day now, right? WHAT HAS THIS COUNTRY GOT AGAINST FOLLOWING THROUGH!?!?!?!?

So congress got wind that some people didn't bother to get prepared. Despite the three years of lead time. Despite the generous voucher program putting money in the pockets of electronics firms who tossed off barely adequate converter boxes to sell to a captive audience. Despite the parade of oddly timed and entirely too short to be useful 'digital tests' that rewarded us with green or red screens, depending on how well we'd done at preparing our sets to reap the digital signals from our airwaves... Despite the continual countdown messages from our local TV stations, Congress found out that some people in this country weren't going to be ready. Awww...

So here I sit with my converter boxes and antennas all paid for, and Congress pushes the date out to June 12th. Just a couple weeks before Father's Day, hint, hint. But when that day comes, will we be any more ready? I doubt it. Nothing forces readiness, people, than taking away the safety net! Turn off the signals, and those who aren't ready WILL GO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!

I'll believe the digital transition is coming when I see it actually happen. Just please, oh please, don't turn this into another metric system conversion.

Just do it.

There, I feel much better now.

Click on the title up top to check out the article from the local paper. The senior center can't get a good picture on their TV and doesn't want to pay $50 for a digital converter, why? Because they're out of money after purchasing that Wii? Stupid photo setup. Lame excuse. Did we mention there were three YEARS to prepare?

Just do it.

Friends, Real or Imagined

2008-11-18T21:57:00.006-05:00

I have been privileged -- dare I even say it? -- blessed with many friends and acquaintances over the years I've graced the surface of this planet, and some of my favorites have been those I've met only online.

When I think back, I remember fondly a favorite teacher, my best friend from down the road, a favorite aunt, friends from school, my ex-girlfriends, the small group I sang with in High School, another I sang with in College, My roommates, my floormates, the girl I met the first day of class, my Brothers and Sisters in Christ, my coworkers of 20 years... the list goes on and on of the people who have in some way touched my life. What's embarrassing is the small number of those people I stay in touch with. What's disheartening, is the small number that care to stay in touch with me. Those I do keep in touch with are those with an online existance, for the most part.

I recently caught up with someone I considered to be an important College friend. He lived on the same floor as me -- we shared interests -- we skipped classes together, watched movies together, ate pizza together. Yet we grew apart after I got married. I was too absorbed in my own life to remember his. Years later when I wanted to reach him, I'd lost all the tendrils leading back to him. With a name like "Smith", he wasn't easy to track down. But I finally found him -- 1600 miles away. I hope to keep up with him from here -- as an online friend, because we're no longer 'real' friends.

What's the point of all this? Just this. Friends and acquaintances are as important as the importance you give them. We can't physically maintain a continual 'real' relationship with that many people, but we can keep tabs on each other, and social media like facebook, YouTube, Vloggerheads, twitter, etc are simply tools that make that job -- and it is a job -- easier. I've learned that If a friend is important to me, I need to make the effort to keep in touch, make mysef a part of their life, and be a friend. If it's returned, bonus, but at least they know I have a desire to maintain a friendship. That alone can affect whether or not they keep in touch with me. If I wait for them, they'll wait for me, and contact will be lost.

Is all this just basic knowledge to most people? Perhaps. For me it's an effort, because I tend to be the introvert's introvert. Relationship is a skill I continually learn how to master. Because of this, from my perspective, there is little difference between an online and an offline friend. What is it? The offline friend is HARDER work, because I can't connect day-in-day-out on the internet. Strangely, and MUCH to my advantage, many of my 'real world' friends have recently popped up on facebook, so they're hybrid online-real-world-friends. I love it.

Peri Urban recently posted a video on Vloggerheads -- a site I no longer frequent -- considering once again whether any of this on-line friendship and community is "real". HE makes some very good points. I can't sit across the table from him and have a cup of coffee without logging onto a computer and a social networking site -- or travelling to Scotland. (Which I'd be willing to do if anyone would care to fund the trip...). I'm NOT going to show up when (Let's say if) his house burns down. And most disappointing to me, I can't play in his studio on a whim and help cook up somehting fun we can sing together. In that sense, we're not real friends. We don't have a shared history other than YouTube and Vloggerheads. Losing this 'friendship' we have would be as easy as never sending an e-mail or visint each others site again. I have become convinced that he and I each find something interenting enough about the other that we're not going to let that happen. One or the other of us sends a "Hey" not when we haven't hearde from the other in a while. And I so appreciate that. I still drop in on his blogs, and I have no doubt, he's rubbing his scruffy little chin whilst reading this right now. So what is thus based upon? I don't really know. We're similar in some ways, but so different in others. But I know I enjoy the relationship -- whether it's a 'real friendship' or not.

Matt Hellyer (who dropped my name in his response to Peri -- do I need to send him a $20 for that?) is in Bosnia Herzegovina, having moved there from someplace in the UK (Horsham, was it?) Matt and I have a similar tenuous internet friendship -- bolstered a bit, perhaps, by a shared faith, but really having nothing else in common than a level of interest in each other's videos...

Then there are the many people who go to my church that are also connected on Facebook. The online existance seemed to be uncomfortably redundant at one time. I almost felt as if my online existance was invaded by real people. Shy as I am, this was a major cause for concern! But here's the strange thing that happened. One by one, those friends have been leaving the church I attend, and going to other churches. I don't see them weekly anymore. When this happened in the past, those relationships were lost and forgotten, unless we made the effort to maintain contact. (Seriously, this is an effort. I can't even manage to get Christmas Cards out to people each year. Relationship stuff is WORK folks!) Now, however, I see those people almost more than I see the people at church. They're on my facebook. They comment on my cookie I had for lunch, and the pie I baked. They laugh at my attempts to make up funny status descriptions, and we stay in touch -- but they[ve made the transition from 'real' friend to 'online' friend.

So you see, the line between has become blurred. And I suppose that is my point. Where there used to be 'real' friends and 'online' friends, and one made you sane and the other made you crazy, there are now simply 'friends'. And I like it this way! Don't make me go back.

All friends require a certain level of care and 'feeding' to keep the relationship healthy. I don't think it makes sense, going forward, to continue to draw a distinction between 'online' and 'real' friends. Just make sure you give care and feeding to those who care enough to feed you.

And Thanks -- to those who care enough to call me 'friend'. You are appreciated more than you will ever hear from me, I assure you.

-dan'l

Seeking Balance in an Unbalanced World

2008-08-09T22:49:00.003-04:00

Every person has their things they have to do, and their things they'd rather do. If'n I had my druthers, I'druther be singing. But I have to balance my time, and apply it wisely, lest anything that must have attention be missed, or anything I'd prefer to have attention be neglected.

How does one balance?

There are many philosophies to managing time. "Schedule the biggest things first", "Seven Habits of...". In Real-Time we even have special scheduling algorithms for dealing with tasks. FIFO, Round Robin, FIFO with priority Inheritance, LIFO... We schedule data using elevator policies, best-fit, first-fit, etc. But my question at hand, is how do I prioritize multiple first priorities?

Yes, Dan has said yes too many times.

Specifically, for the Christian man, how does one properly balance important priorities outside the confines of the church community against/with/alongside those within the church body?

I've struggled with this for over a year. Now it's a reality and I have to find a balance, but I'm afraid the balance I believe to be 'right' will not be perceived as such by all involved. So now I have to prioritize who to disappoint. :-)

I'm part of the 'servant leadership' of a local body of Christ, and as such I have obligations to the people of the church as well as to my God. These are obviously high priorities.

I'm also part of the leadership of a local school-related organization. Because of the infamous 'separation of church and state' interpretation here in the states, this means a certain degree of separation from the church be maintained. Motivations related to Spiritual matters simply have no bearing on the motivations, methods, or operation of this organization.

How does one separate 'man' from 'Christian man' in the right places when one is talking about the SAME man?

Of course this is a gross oversimplification of the complexities involved. There are also pressures related for home, family, parenting, extended family, illness, wellness, government, and employment. The list is impressive, don't you think? And it goes on.

In Scenario 1, our hero maintains full control in all areas of his life, expertly carving a weaving path through all meetings, and comes home to help cook, clean, and whip out a couple loads of laundry. At the end of the day, the beginning of the next has already come and gone, so our hero gets little sleep, and soon begins to miss deadlines, loose concentration, and generally fail. This is no good.

In Scenario 2, he drops out of church leadership to focus on the time-sensitive effort of leading the civic organization. His daughter will only be with the organization 3 more years, and this is when they need the help. Here, we cringe for our protagonist as 'friends' from the church begin to talk about him behind his back, suggesting he's lost faith, fallen away, or been tempted by Satan to be more 'worldly'. His effectiveness in that community is diminished, and cannot be regained, because those who know he 'bailed on the position' have long memories.

In Scenario 3, he drops out of the civic organization leadership. The organization falls back into a state of disrepair, fails to grow, and his daughter may (gasp!) be bored. Is this better? His Spiritual Integrity is now not in question, regardless of the true depth of his commitment. Appearances are served.

In Scenario 4, our underdog drops out of leadership entirely, all around, because he's obviously not a leader. Leaders don't 'waffle' like this before making a decision.

(sigh)

Consider this. If as the church would desire, a man completely devoting himself to Christ turns his focus entirely inward on the body of Christ, and ignores the world outside, will he not fail to complete his core mission of seeking to save the lost? They're on the outside, after all. Furthermore, if the world continues to be led by those not intensely active in the Church, doesn't the church (and its Christian members) lose effective control over their surroundings, ultimately ensuring their own restriction and demise?

I paint a fatalistic picture, I know. There are more subtle flavors of this eventual fall from influence.

Even though I am a Christian trying to dedicate my life to Christ, I still have to buy groceries at the store, mow my lawn, live in the township, rely on the county, the state and the federal government for services and support, including protection. If the church abdicates influence at these levels of community and government, we will eventually find ourselves increasingly outside of society. It behooves the Christian Man to seek out influence, then, in the world he needs to be part of, to ensure his continued right to his Faith.

Right, so what is my point? I think I lost it a bit. My point is this. I am not a bad person for taking time from Church Leadership and investing it in a local booster organization.

Because if I don't do it, the boosters will rise up against the Christians and snuff us out?

I need to work on this justification stuff some more...

Can't sleep

2008-08-07T03:45:00.001-04:00

I can't complain. I mean, I can. I do all the time. But I ought not to. I'm here to complain. I'm here, I mean. Just here.

On Saturday, on my way into a routine surprise appendectomy, they gave me an I.V. antibiotic, and I reacted to it. Fast. Scared me 'to death'. Well, no, not quite, but I was thinking that the end was possible here, when my ears and my throat closed, my voice disappeared, and I had to take a deep breath to make a sound.

But I came through. I have no appendix. But I can breath again, and I came through. I should be grateful. I am grateful. A lot of people dropped what they were doing and prayed for me. I appreciate that. I really do.

But after that they put me on steroids, and now here it is at 3:45 am, and I'm not tired. I'm full of energy, and I'd do anything for you right now. You need 100 reports typed by morning? No problem. I'm on it. Need software coded and delivered by the weekend? How many thousand lines? No problem!

I hate steroids.

But where would I be without them?

Please, please, please, don't let me find out.

Gotta go try to get some sleep...

Dan'l for President - 2008

2008-05-13T00:20:00.003-04:00

I hope I haven't gotten myself in too much trouble...

We held nominations and elections tonight for the Band Boosters organization at the school, a 501(c)3 support organization that provides 'Parental Support' for the Marching and Concert bands.

I had visions of being in leadership on the boosters, because I remember what an important part of the band the boosters were when I was in High School. But President? I'm hoping I can hold it together long enough I don't get impeached before the fall.

The boosters manage fund raising and provide pit-crew for the bands, clean and manage the uniforms, provide bouncers and ushers at concerts, etc. They're a catalyst that takes a good band and enables them to become great.

At least, that's now I remember it. :-)

Now I have to drop something else to make room for this. YouTube?

I Have the Power!

2008-05-07T20:08:00.002-04:00

Was it "He-Man and the Masters of the Universe"? I think that was his battle-cry. That was my Sister's generation -- I was already grown when it was on, but I remember the sword in the air and the lightening strike.

This morning, I didn't have the power. None of it. I woke at 5:30 to the news that the lights were out. It's amazing how quiet the world is when there is no electricity.

Apparently, somewhere nearby a tree blew over and took out the power lines. It got our whole neighborhood. The kids were scared -- well, Ryan was. Katie was P.O.'d because she couldn't shower. Ryan wants to know why things happen, and his imagination takes him places it shouldn't. He's his own worst enemy. So I grabbed the old tractor battery (which I happened to save after removing it the other day, remember?) and hooked up a 500 watt inverter, and got the TV going. (yeah!) Naturally, there was no news about it.

I'm not able to work without electric, so once I got the kids on the bus, I headed back to bed. I love my bed.

Later, I woke up. Made the bed, wandered through the house doing odd jobs that I could do without power, light, or water. Not much, let me tell you. Mostly, I stood looking at the room, wrought with terror because I could be receiving e-mails and I'd not know about it. Yes, I had an anxiety attack without my computers. I'm such a geek. And I don't mean that in the contemporary uber-cool nerdfighter sense of the word, but rather, in the derogatory 'nerd' sense.

At 11:30 am, I was using the restroom, and heard the slightest hint of a fizzing sound. No, from the inside of the toilet. Stop that! Yes, there was water running. It grew louder, and louder... The PUMP IS RUNNING! Within moments, I had water, and the water heater started up, and the lights worked, and the TV worked, and THE COMPUTERS BOOTED!!! O HAPPY DAY! WHAT JOY DIVINE! I HAVE THE POWER!!!

"Hi. My name is Dan, and I'm addicted to electricity."

-dan'l

The Well-Tempered Man

2008-05-04T00:04:00.004-04:00

Mow the Lawn

It seems, on the surface, a simple task. The cutting of the grass is an established tradition in the Spring and Summertime of West-Michigan. My neighbor with the finely crafted, uniformly colored, perfectly flat, irrigated lawn does it with ease aboard his joystick-driven lounge-chair mower. He's retired, though, and he and his wife spend many hours a day in the yard, plucking, pruning, trimming and preening. Their lawn is perfect.

My other neighbor has a similar mower, similar irrigation, and a similarly cultivated green lawn, though he's a very busy man who works early hours at a tough job and returns home to exercise his artistic leanings by carving mighty oaks into bears, eagles, and lighthouses using various chainsaws.

Another neighbor is a farmer, breeds and farms using Belgian horses, and also has a day job delivering propane gas. His wife works at my son's school. They also have a beautiful lawn. It looks so easy...

So one would think, given a similar location, my lawn would green up like theirs.

Well, it doesn't.

So what am I doing wrong? Everything, it would seem.

Last year about this time, we were having a new roof installed. The roofer used a large lift to raise a platform to the roof, carrying shingles, men, rolls of nails... To this day, I can tell you exactly where he went with it. :-) The trenches it left are well-preserved in the hard-packed soil I have around the house. In the back yard, where the original builder buried the trees and stumps after clearing the woods for space to build, a sink-hole has formed, and the roofing contractor buried his lift to the axles back there. Wonderful. Maybe I'll build a pond. It's about a 2-foot deep hole, and getting deeper with time.

Even so, the front yard remains in pretty good shape. The yard is soft -- as it is each Spring, because it's been tunneled through all winter by ground moles. Each step you take out there, you sing in about an inch, leaving obvious footprints in the yard. It's that worked up.

Where grass will grow, it's infested with weeds. Near the woods, where little sunlight shines, moss is taking over the lawn. A different green, and certainly not healthy for the grass -- choking it out.

But I can still mow the weeds, right? Make it look nicer, anyway? I can roll the molehills down, dethatch the lawn, aerate the soil, and mow the weeds off so they don't appear too unsightly.

That was my intention this morning. I sent the children out to pick up stick in the little red wagon. A short task, but they made it long by deciding to also rake the leaves. Good kids! Got to love that ambition. Especially since Katie came down with a cold today, and wasn't feeling the greatest. They came back in a short time later -- "Dad, something's wrong with this wheel!" -- sure enough, we'd run over a crab-apple branch with a pricker intact, and it pierced the inner-tube of the wheel. I grabbed a tire patch kit, and in a half-hour was ready to start the tractor and go mow.

But the tractor wouldn't start. I got it to start last week. Once. After that it wouldn't turn over. So I replaced the battery. Still won't turn over. I tapped the solenoid with a hammer. Dad says that's a good thing to do. Still won't work. I charged the battery -- maybe I got a bad one. Nope, fully charged. Just won't turn over. I disassembled the engine housing, and checked the starter. The engine and the starter both spin freely. That isn't it. Maybe a bad solenoid? I don't know. Now it's beyond my level of expertise. I'll call a guy on Monday to get it in for service. I'm afraid they'll have to rebuild the engine, because I see oil leakage...

No problem. There's still a few hours left, and I can push-mow the entire yard. I can use the exercise. So I got out the push-mower, gassed it up, and set out to make my mark on the lawn one step at a time. This wasn't going to be pretty -- the roller can't be used without the tractor to pull it, so the mole-hills are all out there still, and the push mower will chop the tops off. Sure enough, I sink in deep, and the lawn gets a nasty buzz-cut wherever there was a mole hill. I got once around the yard, and stopped for a snake in the bushes, when it happened.

The push-mower died.

A noisy, clanky, metallic death. When I looked underneath, I saw why. The blade was totally worn out, and the ends of the blade were cut into a forked "V" shape. This blade was LONG gone. A stray roofing nail was embedded in the metal of the mower deck and had sliced the blade up, and the unbalanced blade had shaken the bolt loose, letting it vibrate under the mower deck.

So, I lost my temper a little. (That's a gross understatement, in case you didn't catch it.) By this time, the day was wearing on, and I needed to see that lawn mowed. The flowering grass plants on top of the mound on the east lawn mocked me as I pushed the dead mower into the garage. half-an-hour later, I'm back from the store with a blade -- and a spare -- to get the mower running again. Turned it over, mounted the blade -- back in business!!! NOT.

The tipping and mounting had flooded the mower engine with gas, and the engine refused to start. I pulled and I pulled, and it would start, run up to full speed and shut off immediately. Finally, I let it rest for an hour. That engine wasn't about to start and stay running. Finally, frustrated to no end, my wife asked what I was mad about. "Watch this! This thing won't start either!", and I pulled. Much to my chagrin, it ran! "Go! Get it done!", she cried, and I was off and running -- I cut my way across the front yard and turned to head back, victorious over the machine at last, I was thrilled to be hacking the tops off the mole-hills and dandelions, carving a swath across the wet lawn.

Wet?

Drip. Drip-drip. Drip. The rain began...

Bound to get the job finished, I plowed ahead, ignoring the icy raindrops running down my face. I kept pushing, pushing, going, and going, and eventually, the shower stopped, and I had won:

The front yard was mowed.

I was exhausted, fingernails full of dirt and oil, clothes looking like I'd wiped sludge everywhere I could find a clean space. But I was done. My lawn was no longer the total embarrassment it had been at the start of the day. It remained absolutely ugly, but not quite so embarrassing.

Meanwhile, the riding mower sits dead as can be in the corner of the garage. A useless heap of greasy metal costing me time and money. I can't decide if I want it to come back from the shop all fixed up and ready to go for the year, or if I want it to be DOA, so I can order a new one.

There's no end to the frustrations the world is capable of dishing out. Is there?
Time to shower, get cleaned up, return to the world refreshed.

"Hey, Dan? Did you know this shower is leaking?"

The Angelcheeks Foundation

2008-02-27T12:43:00.003-05:00

On March 4th, 1993, my daughter was born, and before she even came home from the hospital, just 6 days later, my step-brother's son, Bobby Jr. passed away due to SIDS -- Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. My heart ached for him, but I felt guilty going to Bobby Jr.'s funeral, knowing that when they looked at me, they knew I had a brand new baby girl, alive and well. Bobby Jr. was only about 12 weeks old. Over the coming years, we watched our daughter grow, always with the fear in the back of our mind -- what if? What if it happens to us? Thank God it never did...

Today, a video was released on YouTube announcing Brian Nessel's Angelcheeks Foundation. And here I sit sobbing my heart out over it like a blubbering baby. Remembering the pain Bob's family went through, and my own father's heartache at losing his new grandson. There was no way they could be prepared for what had happened.

Please take the time to view this video, and if you are moved, please visit Angelcheeks.Net and make a gift to help someone who won't be prepared to lose a new son or daughter.

Thanks for listening.

Happy New Year

2008-01-01T00:46:00.000-05:00

Best wishes for a Happy New Year in 2008!
-dan'l

Merry Christmas

2007-12-20T17:54:00.000-05:00

Merry Christmas to you all!

Please leave me a note so I can know who's been by. I haven't a clue if anyone is actually reading this blog.

Be sure to check out the link for a special Christmas Poem written by my daughter, Katie, with original accompaniment.

May you and your family experience the Spirit of the Christmas Season which is God's Love for you.

-dan'l

Tounge Time!

2007-12-19T00:07:00.001-05:00

How come this one apparently never went viral? It's awesome! It's hillarious!

Poking Out from Behind the Curtain

2007-11-30T21:43:00.000-05:00

"Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain! The Great and Powerful Oz has spoken!" -- The wizard

I've come to a place. It's a place I'm not entirely comfortable with, but then I never am comfortable. So I suppose that's irrelevant.

I've come to the place where the Wraith Surfer is no longer needed. You see, I watched the World Wide Web grow from its infancy, and saw the stories on TV about how people were hunted down and stalked based on information they gave away on the Internet. And I was intimidated. I still am. So when I ventured out into the Web myself for social reasons, I did so under a guise. I didn't want spammers taking my e-mail address, so I used an anonymous webmail account for anything I thought might cause spam to be generated. And it was! I get a TON of spam at that account. That much was a great idea!

But then I began to find my friends online. And I tried to come out to play, but they didn't recognize me behind the space suit of the Wraith Surfer. Today (sniff) I was taken to task by a friend for "hiding". I was hiding, but only from the strangers! Well, the disguise was too good, and even my friends were leery.

So today, the suit comes off. The steps I already took on YouTube to lose the Wraith persona not come to my other accounts. I'm going to be "dan'l" again. Ok, so it's still a persona, but it's the one I wear at home. Deal with it.

Time to put Major Matt Mason away, and find a decent portrait of my own self to put up. It isn't there yet, but keep an eye out for it. I'll find something.

Props to Bonnie for poking me. :-)

Now, where did I leave the keys to that balloon?

-dan'l

Exhaustion Bites

2007-11-13T11:55:00.000-05:00

Who said the weekend was a relaxing time? I often look forward to the rest that comes with a normal work week, after the stress of a weekend. Maybe God rested on the seventh day, but do we? I think NOT!

To be fair, this weekend was NOT your usual fare.

We did an event for the Band Boosters (in support of my daughter, who is in the band) this weekend. On Friday night, we set up tables, unloaded factory equipment, and folded boxes in preparation for Saturday's Pie Factory. The Pies were already pre-sold, and we knew we needed to make 1551 Apple Pies. That meant folding 1551 cardboard boxes to put them in, and counting 1551 pie tins. It meant mixing up gallons of flour, sugar, cinnamon and nutmeg (Boy, did it smell good!) All this had to be completed Friday night.

On Saturday, we arrived at 7am at the school, got the coffee pot going, and waited for the Apples to arrive. At 7:30 we unloaded 136 bushel of apples, stacking them near the apple peeler/corer. We suited up into aprons and hairnets, and the day's work began. There were about 45 on the line. The first two placed apples on the peeler/corer, which automatically peeled and cored the apples, dumping them into a bin. The bins were passed on to a team that trimmed the remaining peel and core parts off. Then off to the slicer, producing nice, even apple slices, and sending them up a conveyor belt. At the top, someone trimmed away any more unsightly parts, and the apples were ready for the pie.

Over at the dough station, ladies mixed dough for crust. Another team weighed the dough, stuffing it into a die plate. Pressing down on the handle the dough was cut into many parts, evenly sized. Some went to the "top crust" station to be floured and shaped, while the rest were placed into the bottom of a metal pie tin. Two heated presses were used to squish the dough ball into a flat bottom crust. Perfect every time.

The bottom crust moved on to the filling station, where a spoonful of flour/sugar/cinnomon/nutmeg mixture from the previous night was added. On top of that, a pile of apple slices, and another scoop of flour/sugar/cinnamon/nutmeg.

Meanwhile, back at the top crust station, dough balls were fed into a press, making elongated oval patties. These were run through another press/roller sideways to form a perfectly round top crust of the perfect thickness, which was quickly draped over the waiting pile of apples in the pie tin. From here, another person tucked the apples neatly under the top crust, making a healthy pile in the center. The pie then went on to the crimping station, where workers took out their aggressions slamming the crimper die down onto the pie. This sealed the top crust to the bottom and trimmed away the excess dough. A quick spin to clean the crumbs off, and the finished pie was slipped into a bag, sealed with tape and boxed for delivery.

I had the honor of walking the finished pies to the Order Pickup station, where sellers collected all the pies they'd sold, to deliver them to customers.

Whew! We were done making pies by 12:45 pm, but then we had to clean up, return tables we'd borrowed, and dispose of the apple peels and cores on a nearby farm.

We'd have been done by 2pm, but my sister-in-law locked her keys in the car, and I had to drive her all the way home to get a spare set. We got back to the house at about 7pm, just in time for my son's birthday party.

Cake, ice cream, and a slice of apple pie, and I was sugared up pretty well. I was too tired to post my video on YouTube, though. Maybe Sunday?

On Sunday, I went to church early. My quintet was singing, which is always stressful, but it went ok. When the family didn't show up, I ran home to find that my daughter was worried about her present for my son. It was the same thing that he got from Grandma and Grandpa the night before. Oops! Off to the store for a quick switch, then back to church for second service. Now I was crashing from the morning's stress, and I think I slept through the sermon! After church, we rushed off to Chuck-E-Cheese for a couple hours of Birthday fun with 5 boys. Play games, eat pizza, dance with the mouse. Then home to video games and LEGOS.

I skipped choir practice to manage the boys, and we returned them to Moms and Dads at evening service at the church. After evening service, I had a meeting, and arrived home at 9 for Supper.

Too tired to post my video of the pie job, I went to bed.

Which led to Monday morning. I got up and got the kids on the bus, but then I was not feeling well. I laid down to rest for a minute and woke up at noon. Total CRASH!

Yeah, so the weekend was the most exhausting time I remember in a while, and I look forward to getting back to the usual day-to-day work schedule.

This all hit home for me, though, when I think back on it, because a friend and neighbor had a heart attack last night. He's doing well today, but it makes me think. How much can I keep going on 4-6 hours of sleep a night, and pushing all the time?

The videos will get done, and I'll do my best, but not at the expense of taking care of myself first. We need our rest to be at the top of our game.

Be well. Thanks for stopping by.

Just a quick note...

2007-10-16T16:20:00.000-04:00

I've changed usernames at YouTube. The Wraith Surfer is hanging up his board over there. Meet me at http://youtube.com/DanPostropheL (dan'l)

Looking in the Mirror: Am I cracked?

2007-10-12T23:33:00.002-04:00

What is it with Periurban on YouTube? Here's a guy with a great voice, creative songwriting, and interesting views on -- even a passion for community. His gentle manner and compassionate tone draw you in, and you feel like this guy could be your friend if he wasn't five hours ahead of you on the clock, almost a quarter of a world away. Just when I decide here's a musician I care to keep an eye (or an ear) on, he turns suddenly against the USA, and suddenly, the songs are no longer comfortable to listen to. In fact, they're painful.

Then again, so is looking in a physical mirror. :-)

My patriotism is stung by the sand he's kicked up from the playground, and the child in me wants to come out swinging. How dare he?

Yet the disillusioned, tired citizen in me wants to scream out in the moment, "Yes! Yes! It's cruel what our country is doing in the world!" The part of me that believes the conspiracy theories and doesn't trust the likes of a Washington Politician is pierced to the heart by Peri's words, because I feel trapped. Trapped in a country that has taken down the government of a foreign country under what I believe to be false pretenses, unable to do anything to stop those who would continue to feed our sons and daughters to an enemy that considers their lives to be worth less than that of the family pet.

"It's a democratic country, though -- you can vote! Choose better leaders! Look at the funny Americans in the US that choose such horrible leaders! Hahaha...." Would that my vote were that powerful. I dread the upcoming election. There's a very real possibility that we'll see another Clinton White House, but roles will be reversed. The field of candidates is just that -- a vast field, and the possibilities are many. And is any one of them without corruption? Does any one of them speak for me? How to decide? Choose the Devil you know? The lesser of two evils? I vote so I have the right to complain, and the rest vote to give me something to complain about. Such is the nature of election. I only wish I had a choice of an honest candidate.

Fail to vote and not only do I forfeit my right to complain (In My Humble Opinion). I'd be no longer a part of the solution -- but I'd be part of the apathetic problem. Lumps-on-a-log who don't care, caught up in our own personal lives... Self absorbed.

I'm sorry -- I'm typing while tired again, and I'm having trouble keeping a thought....

The point is: Periurban gets my ire up because the things he says about the US are true -- to an extent. I'm frustrated because I can't make him a liar. When I hear his lyrics, I see myself, part of my country, responsible for the leaders I sent to Washington, responsible for thinking that the war on Iraq could be justified, and I don't care for what I see. Whether we were lied to, or the threat was an honest mistake, we attacked, and now we're losing boys and girls trying to hold it together over there. If we stay, we're evil for continuing the battle, and if we pull out, the power vacuum will be filled with civil war, and we'll be responsible for that. We're left with no out.

And I don't care for being trapped like that. What must it be like to be a soldier facing these feelings each day... My heart cries each time I lower the flag for one of our own killed in action. The flag has seen a lot of half-staff days this year. May it end.

Meanwhile, Periurban, write your songs, but don't think for a minute that every US American is behind this war. Don't think we aren't pained. Indeed, maybe your music will help us feel that pain "enough".

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oMmixsh9sYQ
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7VpYUhlKO-o
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_P_E91KabMY

Sanity in Question

2007-10-05T01:35:00.000-04:00

How does one decide whether one is sane or not?

I mean, I believe myself to be sane. But don't most insane people?

(brief interlude while switching monitors -- mine just died...)

Sorry about that delay. Technical difficulty. Back to our examination of belly buttons...

Is it true that believing you are insane is a sign that you are probably not?

Or, as I suspect, am I perfectly sane and simply believe that I may not be?

Who can tell? I mean, I don't feel qualified to judge the sanity of another. And neither do I trust another person without access to my thoughts worthy of judging me?

Which leads me to my next thought. Have you ever wanted to be another person? Feel their feelings, and think their thoughts? If we could, this whole question of sanity would be more easily satisfied -- or would it? If a sane person was able to be me, and I am insane, wouldn't they become my insanity? Or would I become their sanity.

Dobson says when you work in the garden, the dirt never gets glovey.

Don't be so sure, though that the sane would become insane. Who is to say that what we call sane today is the appropriate state of mind? The "right" state of mind?

That ice cream was good. Maybe I'll have another before bed.

I look at people around me -- in the ether -- and I can't be certain who is insane and who is sane. Who is fake and who is real. Who is really fake? I wear a persona myself when I'm here, and that persona is not me -- though the thoughts are mine. Disjoint as they are, and unclear. Fuzzy and drunken from lack of sleep... But if I go to bed earlier, what life will I miss? And when I stay up, what life can I live? Dozing throughout the day...

Ah yes -- people around me. I browse Blogger, and YouTube, and mySpace, and take in the oddities and pearls I find there. People reveling in the beauty of the online community compared to the ugliness of the real world -- and it strikes a chord. Yet it's a harmony missing a note. Why do people post? Why do they make the videos? What is the point? What happens to citizens of this e-nation when they no longer have access to their account? Are we all doomed to the fate of Greg Solomon -- apparently not dead after all? How do we know when someone really never will come back? What becomes of their e-life then? Are they sane who post on these sites?

Some post because they are creative, and have a talent to share. Some want to capitalize on that and others want to give it away. Some post because they believe they possess a nugget of truth. Others because they believe the other guy doesn't have a shred of truth. Others I can't figure out -- producing little better than a written/musical/video fart -- so crude. Some are poets. Others are philosophers. Some share the gift of multiple creativities. Ah Utopia, but where is the place in this community for the follower? For the taker? For the one who possesses no gift to share? Where is the place for the the one unable to contribute? What gift of wisdom can I offer this place?

Questions. I can ask questions. I have those. But many will misinterpret my questioning as criticism. It's not intended as such. It's pure curiosity.

Would that I had music to give you. Would that I could write poetry. Would that I could share with you the Truth -- the ultimate prize I seek... A story. A joke. A kind word.

"Thank you." If you read this far.

No, it's too late for that ice cream. Time to go to bed. Tomorrow is never a day away -- it's already here. Maybe today will shed some light on me sanity.

G'night.

Oh, one pearl of wisdom I give you:

The only stupid question is the one left unasked.

Where'd I leave my jammies?

2006-12-21T22:44:00.000-05:00

"Me Man" -- Deb

Merry Christmas

2006-12-21T22:37:00.000-05:00

There, I said it. "Merry Christmas!"

Bring on the ACLU. :-)

Wishing everyone the very best. If you don't know what that is, I'd be glad to tell you all about it.

Merry Christmas to you.

Origins...

2006-10-06T14:59:00.000-04:00

Begin the life of the Wraith. Wait -- you didn't see that. wraith, remember? What are you looking at? You can't see this. Go away.

Oh, nevermind.