Not Everyone Can Be Bill Gates, But I'm Trying

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

After staring out the year with the best of intentions on this blog, having a new baby join our family has slowed me down quite a bit. Now that we're about halfway from another New Year, this is probably a good time for a half-New Year's resolution to try to keep the few readers I may have left.

I could probably spend my time on something constructive or devote my energy to a worthy cause, but I'm not sure that I really have time for another worthy cause. I mean, I'm involved with my family and with church-related stuff, obviously, but I can't say that have a lot of spare time to end Third-World poverty or to cure any incurable diseases. For the most part, I just leave that to the celebrities, since they seem to have everything figured out and a lot of time to kill.

Actually, I'm probably selling myself a little short. I do have a few causes I'm trying to tackle, pretty much on my own. For one, I am on a mission to eliminate scorpions (not everywhere, just around my house). Just to clarify, I'm not talking about the German rock band (I mean, why would you want to get rid of a band that came up with maybe the best "Cold War is over" whistling song of all time?). I'm talking the creepy eight-legged kind (I looked it up - Scorpions the rock band have 5 members, so they don't quite fit that description).

I've found out since moving to Arizona that it's pretty tough to get rid of scorpions. Pesticide doesn't do much, and they can squeeze through just about anything. Fortunately, a higher power saw fit to give us a fighting chance by making them glow in a blacklight, much like a guy from work who showed up to a laser tag activity a few years ago wearing a white Hawaiian shirt. Now that I've discovered how well that works, I'm out there just about every night hunting them down. I realize there aren't a lot of animal-related causes that try to bring about the extinction of a species, but hey, at least I'm involved in something.

My other cause is a bit more difficult, because it extends far beyond my own yard. One of my big pet peeves is that in most places, people play pick-up basketball by 1s and 2s. I understand why in the pre-3-pointer days people played by 1s, but as soon as the "3" came around, it all went downhill. Rather than deciding to go by 2s and 3s, some math genius decided that because a 3-pointer is one more point than a 2, we should go by 1s and 2s. I mean, a "2" is one more point that a "1."

Now, if I showed up at a court and proposed going by 2s and 4s, people would throw me out. In reality, if you play by 1s and 2s, that's what you are doing. I'm not sure how I'm going to tackle this one, to be honest. On the plus side, as basketball goes global, other countries will probably start adopting this fuzzy math, and the U.S. education system won't look so bad by comparison.

Hoops and Hurdles

Sunday, May 10, 2009

I work on a team with some people in Arizona and some in another state. Given the current state of the economy, my company has cut down on travel, which has meant that we don't meet in person as much as we used to. Instead, we've been using these "virtual" conference rooms my company has. Basically, you're in a room with half a table and some HD screens on the other end, and they have the same. I was a little skeptical as to how well this would work, but it's actually not that different that being in the same room, except that you can't share snacks.

I say this only to highlight that I'm not all that smart or nerdy, despite what I might tell you in a few minutes, compared to the type of people that come up with things like that. As I believe I mentioned sometime in the past, I find it fascinating that movies 20-30 years ago all thought the future would be about flying cars and yet still thought we'd be using computers the size of refrigerators. My company has been a big part of the fact that you have computers now that can fit in a purse, so I know firsthand that the people who figure that stuff out are the true smart/nerdy people.

Of course, spaceships and lasers are a lot more interesting (at least visually), so I guess that's why they end up in movies. My son is nearly three and already getting into Star Wars a bit, which I think might make me a bad parent given that one of my co-workers in one of those "virtual" meetings yesterday mentioned that he wasn't allowed to watch Star Wars until he was a teenager. I guess his parents had a point: Luke Skywalker is really whiny sometimes, and I don't want my son acting like that.

Having re-watched these recently, one thing that struck me as funny is that Darth Vader at some point equates the fact that Luke has constructed his own light saber with his skills as a Jedi being really advanced. I thought becoming a Jedi mostly had to do with moving objects around with your mind and swordfighting, but apparently there is a big electrical engineering component. I wonder if all those people in the UK who claimed Jedi as their religion (I'm not kidding - look it up) realize that they have a lot of physics and calculus classes ahead of them.

If I needed to build my own lightsaber, I'm pretty sure I'd find the parts at Fry's Electronics. One of my clearly nerdy hobbies is putting computers together, and if you are into that, Fry's Electronics is both a blessing and a curse. If you're not familiar with Fry's, it's a giant warehouse full of about anything (and I literally mean anything) computer-related, as well as a lot of other electronics and a few random things (I found a bin full of Slap Chops the other day). If you need it, they have it, and it's often on sale. That's the blessing part.

The curse part is that Fry's doesn't make anything simple. Some things you can buy without dealing with a sales associate, but they don't bother putting up big signs above the aisles to tell you where things are, opting instead for little signs at the end of the aisles printed on whatever colored paper they can find lying around. Things like computer memory, however, are sequestered behind giant panes of glass. If you haven't purchased computer memory before, there are a lot of speeds and sizes, so it's possible to stand in front of that wall for hours trying to figure out what you need (which is why they have a cafe nearby, in case you miss a meal in the process).

One you figure out what you need (or give up), you have to ask a sales associate for it, but they don't give it to you directly. They type a bunch of stuff into the computer (your name, address, the name of your third-grade teacher, etc.) and then give you a printout that you take to the checkout area, where someone retrieves your actual item. It's obvious that the sales associates operate on some sort of a commission basis, because they try to get all of your other purchases and anything else they can throw into your cart included on that printout.

I probably shouldn't say "take to the checkout area" so lightly. In order to get there you have to walk through a long maze - a gauntlet of potential impulse purchases. They pack in everything from the usual walls of candy, chips, drinks, toys, and batteries to stuff like disco balls and network interface cards. Once you fight your way through all of that (not recommended with small children), you run into the gatekeeper, if you will, who stands on a little tower and sends you to one of about 50 registers. Just to make sure no one gets away too easily, they have set up one last checkpoint on the way out, where they check the contents of your cart against your receipt and mark it with a highlighter Costco style.

Even then, you are not really done with the Fry's experience. Inevitably, something you purchased won't work (or at least not the way you want it to). I've always found the return experience at Fry's to be a little challenging, but recently I ran across this article from 1997 that confirmed my suspicions. Apparently, at the time Fry's took some heat for having a return policy internally called "Double-H" (hoop and hurdles). While I'm sure they relaxed this a bit after the adverse publicity, I think the principle lives on, since I usually walk away feeling like I've committed some kind of misdemeanor. It's also inevitable that you'll end up returning something at some point; when I brought back my item, they just slapped a discount sticker on it and put it back on the shelf.

I'll be honest, though. I really like Fry's, for the most part, and try to make up excuses to go. A lot of people seem to have a hard time breaking away from an abusive partner, and I guess I'm no different. My latest excuse is that (here comes the nerdy part to which I alluded earlier) I'm turning our old computer into a home media server that I can connect to my cable/TV. It only took a few trips to Fry's to get it up-and-running, but it looks like I have more ahead of me because it freezes up after about 30 seconds, and I've narrowed the cause down to the CPU or dust or the power supply or the video card or a device driver or the hard drive or my Windows installation. A normal person would just buy something like this from HP or Dell, I suppose, but you'll never become a Jedi that way.

[As a sidenote, while we're talking about nerdy things, I've told a few people recently that if you have seen the new Star Trek movie and/or watch Lost, you aren't allowed to call me a nerd for watching Battlestar Galactica unless you are willing to admit that you are a bigger one yourself, given that Battlestar Galactica doesn't involve any aliens, killer clouds of smoke, time travel, or J.J. Abrams.]

Some Accidents Aren't Accidental

Friday, April 03, 2009

I'm returning from a bit of a hiatus. Nearly two weeks ago, we welcomed another child into the world, and everything related to that has taken over, as you'd expect. For a number of reasons, this birth involved a lot less stress and worry than the last, but I nevertheless came away very grateful once again to live in a time and place with good medical care.

Despite that appreciation for medical professionals and technology, one thing that's always slightly amusing to me is that being in a hospital is a little like prison. You're in there with a bunch of strangers, most of whom would like nothing more than to get out, and you can't help but wonder what put them there. You eat food from a tray and sleep in rooms that are far too cramped to be comfortable. You can only get out once your time is up and you are deemed fit to do so, and even then you have to meet with someone on the other side to make sure you're not regressing.

To be fair, they're mostly just looking out for your health and safety, and I appreciate that, especially when my family is involved. After all, I spend my work life in a very safety-conscious environment, as I've mentioned in the past. I mean, it's gotten to the point that the other day I was in one of our buildings for a meeting and wanted to sit down at a table in the hallway to do some work but was thwarted by a sign telling me that I was not welcome to sit at those tables unless I planned to use an external mouse. I understand that carpal tunnel can be a problem, but how long did they think I'd be sitting there?

I'm fine with all of this, because I'm a pretty cautious person in general when it comes to my own safety. I'm not a huge thrill-seeker, probably because I enjoy being alive and not in excruciating pain. Maybe as a result, I don't have as much sympathy as I probably should for people who walk right into injury. For example, my wife watched shows called things like "Bitten" and "I Shouldn't Be Alive," and most of the time the story is something like "I decided to keep a tiger shark in my hot tub" or "I thought a cobra would make a good back-scratcher." I know I'm supposed to feel bad for these people, but I really don't all that much.

Apparently some of these people live right in my own back yard, so I suppose I need to learn a little empathy in the interest of being a good neighbor (or maybe figure out who these people are so I can keep my distance). For example, a few years ago I largely discounted the possibility of a gas station pump bursting into flames despite all of the purported causes of one doing so, not thinking that anyone would be dumb enough to actually light up next to one. Well, not long ago someone locally decided that firing up a match while his friend was pumping gas would be funny.



Meanwhile, in a small town a little north of here, another guy suffered some serious scratches from a rabid bobcat that had wandered into the local bar. You'd think this would be a pretty unlikely thing to happen to someone, but the odds definitely increase if you get right down in its face with your camera phone.



I can't really judge these people, because my wife will attest to the fact that I've been known to do some dumb things from time to time. All I'm saying is that if I do end up serving time in the hospital due to doing one of those stupid things, I won't have any sympathy for myself or really expect any from you.