All posts by dividingbyzero

It's Tough Being a Guy

Take last week at work for example. At 9:30 Friday morning A., our contract administrator, came into my office and scolded me because even with the email reminder she’d sent the day before, I’d still managed to forget about submitting my timesheet on the last day of the month. I’d remembered to fill it out and everything else, but the actual submitting part had completely slipped my mind.
To make matters worse, just moments before A. walked in, my officemate Y. had solemnly pronounced that “Guys don’t remember anything.”
She was right of course. We don’t! And it’s not just birthdays and anniversaries either. We can only remember so many things, and then something’s going to be forgotten, not because we think it was unimportant, but because we ran out of room for it.
One of the items on my TODO items for Monday was to make a phone call to someone out in Michigan. The timing was such that I thought I might end up talking to a machine, so I was ready. The machine picked up and after the tone I started talking, “Hi A.G., this is Blair and I’m calling to follow up on a conversation we had a little while back. Sorry I missed you, but my phone number is 240-6… Oh God, I’ve forgotten my own phone number!”
The truth of the matter is that I didn’t forget the number, I knew all the digits. But for the life of me, I couldn’t remember what order they belonged in! And since this was a cell phone, there wasn’t even a helpful little sticker for me to look at. But after pausing to collect my thoughts, I managed to explain why I was calling, left my number and hung up.
When A.G. checks her answering machine, she’s in for a good laugh. And I’m certain the one after that will only set her off again. “Hi A.G., it’s Blair again. That number I left you was wrong…” I’m sure she’ll find it entertaining.
Of course, AG, Y, and A. are all women, so they can’t understand what’s going on from the guy perspective. Forgetting things is completely necessary in order for guys to survive. The truth of the matter is, if we remembered even half the stupid things we’ve done, we’d die of embarrassment. And where would that leave the women? They’d be left with a world full of absent-minded males who not only don’t remember, but aren’t even bright enough to realize that they should be embarrassed about it.
This has of course already happened.
Fortunately, I’m a guy. A couple days from now, I’ll have forgotten all about this.

Pulling a Clark Kent

The interviews were one of the most difficult parts of my recent job search. Not just the process of being interviewed, but actually getting away from the old job without raising suspicions that I was out looking.
The dress code at the old job was “business casual”, but as I’ve discovered over time, the definition of “business casual” tends to be rather variable. In the case of my former employer, it included jeans. As nice as it was to dress that way, in the event I ever decided to leave, it would have raised suspicions if I’d suddenly started showing up in interview clothes.
Part of the solution was camouflage. A few years ago, long before I began actively searching for a new position, I started showing up in “spiffy clothes” on occasion. Predictably, everyone reacted by asking me if I had an interview and I alternated between explaining it was laundry day or that I had a date that evening. (Through careful planning on my part, these answers had the advantage of being true. And when circumstances were reversed and other people showed up in dress clothes, I asked them the same question.) Before long, my co-workers became accustomed to seeing me dressed up on occasion.
But dress slacks and nice shirts only go so far as camouflage. Interviews call for a dress shirt, jacket, and the dreaded necktie. Wearing any of those to the office would have been a dead giveaway. So I pulled a Clark Kent.
There was a little park down the road from my old office. I hardly ever saw anyone there, so on my way to interviews, I’d pull in there to change into my interview clothes. I’d pull in, grab my shirt, tie, and jacket out of the trunk and quick as Clark Kent changing into Superman, I’d transform into Man-going-to-an-Interview.
Obviously the superhero routine worked because I only had to do the quick change a few times. After that, I took on a new role: Man-with-a-new-Job

TANJ

I recently found myself about to use the word “TANJ” in a conversation about things unexpectedly going wrong. I caught myself though with the realization that the other person would have no idea what I meant. On a whim, I looked up some references.
Niven uses TANJ the way I was planning, to mean “There Ain’t No Justice.” It’s a good generic curse for when things unexpectedly go wrong in a way that should never have happened. (It’s no wonder that we use it the same way, I picked it up from one of his books.)
So if TANJ means “There Ain’t No Justice,” just how ironic is it then that TANJ.org is the web site for the “Trial Attorneys of New Jersey”?
(And for that matter, how predictable was that joke?)

Cat in the Hat Construction Zone

Some years ago I read a Peanuts strip in which Charlie Brown and Linus were talking about a list of family contact information they had to fill out at school. In the final panel, Linus admits that he wasn’t sure what to write in the space for “Doctor”, so he’d written the name “Seuss.” Years later, I still remember that strip and I keep waiting for someone to ask me who my family doctor is.
Doctor Seuss – or, as his mother called him, Theodor Giesel (and no, I didn’t misspell either half of his name) – was born on March 2, 1904. And in 1957 he wrote The Cat in the Hat. So not only would this Friday have been Dr’s Seuss’ 103rd birthday, it can also be viewed as the Cat’s 50th.
I don’t know how long it’s been going on, but a few years ago I learned that March 2nd is celebrated as “Cat in the Hat Day.” This weekend, on March 3rd, my Jaycees chapter is going to participate in a Dr Seuss-inspired event called “Read Across America” (we’d have gone for the 2nd except that’s a Friday and everyone has jobs).
The big project for Tuesday evening was preparing a bunch of books that Nicole had convinced the Germantown Kohl’s to donate to the event, and then putting together a collection of “Cat in the Hat” hats that will be used as decorations for Saturday’s event. On the spur of the moment, I got out my cell phone and took a few photos of the result. In real life, the hats are red and white. But the cell phone camera, when combined with the fluorescent lights, results in photos that have the hats looking like we’re in a construction zone. 🙂

The Gaithersburg edition of “Read Across America” is Saturday, March 3rd at the Gaithersburg Library on Montgomery Village Avenue. The event starts at 9:30 and continues until 11:00. Approximately 200 kids will receive books donated by the Germantown Kohl’s, approximately 90 will receive the kit and instructions for making their own Cat in the Hat hats.

A Fun Twist on Sudoku

Bill Holbrook, the artist behind the Kevin and Kell cartoon, has come up with a new twist on Sudoku. As he points out in today’s strip, there’s really no significance to the numbers on a Sudoku grid.
The world of Kevin and Kell is populated with anthropomorphic animals, with a society loosely organized along the lines of what different species eat: Herbivores, Carnivores, Insectivores, etc. Today’s strip is the herbivore version of sudoku, using produce instead of numbers.
It takes a little while to get used to looking at vegetables instead of numbers, but the puzzle is solvable. It took me about 30 minutes.

Gunfight at the Farpoint Corral

Say what you will about Peter David, but the man is anything but boring. My own choice of words usually includes things such as “entertaining” and “quick-witted.” I sincerely believe he’s one of those fortunate people who’ve managed to avoid growing up any more than absolutely necessary.
I had the fortune to be seated at the same table as Peter for the banquet at this year’s Farpoint convention. Peter was his usual self, entertaining us with such stories as his discovery that the Enterprise’s warp core is shaped like a coffee percolator (I don’t see it myself, but have no reason to doubt Peter when he says that Mike Okuda confirmed it).
Because this is the year 2007, the theme for this year’s banquet was 007, James Bond. The tables were decorated with a variety of James Bond themed knickknacks such as playing cards and poker chips (after all, James Bond does visit a lot of casinos). At one point Peter and Lew were exchanging stories of visits to various Star Trek sets (and I was wishing I had that kind of connections), when Peter looked up and realized there was a gun on the table. Continue reading Gunfight at the Farpoint Corral

Blue Movies

Watching Pirates of the Caribbean today, I also saw a trailer from Disney, promoting the list of movies they’re planning to re-release on Blu-Ray DVD. The list includes quite a few well-known/well-loved movies such as The Lion King, Finding Nemo, Pirates of the Caribbean and even a few less liked movies such as Herbie: Fully Loaded. All in High Definition.
A few months ago I finally saw what a High-Definition TV image looks like. I don’t see myself running out to buy an HDTV any time soon, but I do have to admit to being surprised at how sharp the image was. The people in the images looked almost real enough that you could reach out and touch them.
And that’s the odd thing. Several of the titles Disney is planning to re-release are cartoons. I don’t understand the benefit. The cartoons will perhaps look more cartoony?
Of course, there is one important benefit. If people run out and buy the movies just so they can say they have the Blu-Ray version, Disney will make a fistful of cash. Good for them I guess, but I think I’ll pass.

Surprise!

One of the best parts of my new job is that I get to surprise Wylie. For the past two months I’ve been getting home an hour or two earlier than I used to and when I open the bedroom door, Wylie pops his head up as if to say, “Hey! You’re home early. How did that happen?”
I like surprising him. 🙂

TANSTAAFL

On one of the email lists I’m subscribed to, people have been chatting about one of this weekend’s science fiction conventions. A couple people started wondering aloud whether they needed to buy convention memberships since after all, they were only planning to attend a club meeting and maybe one or two other things that weren’t in the main ballroom. In short, did they need to pay even if they weren’t planning to see the guests?
That’s a tough one to answer.
On the one hand, convention memberships are what pay for everything. Not just the celebrity guests, but also the bills for the convention space. Generally speaking, the space rental for the weekend is one of a convention’s two largest expenses, and that’s all the space, not just the ballroom. (The convention has to pay for that “free” meeting space.) And obviously, if too many people routinely take advantage of the convention’s “free” resources without paying for memberships, eventually you won’t have a convention.
On the other hand, any convention that checks badges for every panel and every club meeting is going to end up hearing a lot of unpleasant feedback involving comparisons to the Third Reich, Soviet Russia and the like. And the sheer amount of manpower required to do all that checking is also a bit overwhelming too.
Sure a convention membership is going to cost you some money, but you get a lot in return. You don’t only get to attend whatever club meeting, you also get admission to “all-you-can-eat” of that days’ programming with panels, Q&A sessions, and frequently a costume show and Saturday evening dance. Plus you get the warm-fuzzies and/or good karma that come with the knowledge that you’re supporting local fandom.

Creative Spamming

I’ve been getting a lot of spam lately where the subject line contains a bunch of random words that have nothing to do with the actual message. The idea, of course, is to get past everyone’s spam filters by not using the words (and misspellings) that most folks associate with spam.

A lot of the resulting subject lines don’t make a lot of sense. Gibberish such as “Not prairie as draftsmen” or “Are go cyclotomic.” Every so often though, they come up with something that makes you do a double take.

Cleaning out the spam trap a few minutes ago, I spotted the subject line, “Eat Ilsa Osborn.”

I’m quite disappointed the spammer didn’t identify himself as Hannibal Lechter.