What did we learn? Lessons Learned 2009

These two lazy pups didn't learn anything this year, other than to growl at Dallasites versus Corpus Christians.

The last couple of years, I have taken more pride in learning something new everyday, and redoubling my efforts to be better from it. Here at P30P, that effort has hit a new level with writing "Lessons Learned, my three things:" every post. It's the healthy reminder that knowledge is power and you have to continue to acquire more ammunition. And it's been an eventful calendar year. From dealing with married/grown-up issues that are not an issue, to overseas travel, to enjoying a party now and again, to a delightful trip to Hell and back, to getting out of Dodge but not forgetting the fine people of Dodge.

As a reminder to my readers and myself, I have pulled out a couple of my favorites from Lessons Learned past. Without further ado, here's another end-of-the-year list.

I am very focused. Attack and release for Microsoft. Time to bring it.
Obviously, Microsoft boot camps are not the end-all, be-all of mental tests. But it certainly was a healthy reminder that "when you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything." And that is exactly what I did. And it was pretty sweet.

If you think are are almost dying, you are not.
As we learned in Costa Rica, you can enjoy death-defying action-adventure activities with no fear of death or injury. Take that, Mexico. But when the chips are down and you have enough preparation to use the international whitewater swim technique, you will be fine. Just grab the life line, catch your breath and paddle forward. As The Lovely learned on the same trip, "you are NOT at Disneyland". Okay, so I sneaked in two lessons, but the primary one is more important.

It's not fun unless you can challenge yourself. It's not fun if I can't run a minute faster than yesterday. It's not fun if I can't disassemble a desktop and see if I can put it back together functionally. It's not fun if I can't be better than I was yesterday. So, in that spirit, it's not fun unless I can abstain from drinking while still hanging out at bars.
This wasn't really a true LL as it was more part of the post topic, but not only did I test myself mentally and physically, but chemically as well. It was a fun challenge. I know I can do it. My tendencies and my tongue will never get the better of me.

Looking for a new job is it's own full-time job.
I knew this fact when I graduated college. But I didn't learn the fact until it was drilled into me after the contract dilemma I was involved in this summer. That is in the past and my feet are back on terra firma. But, it will be thrice shy if I get bitten by this fact again.

When parents of children (that you will be hanging out with) warn you that the kids "are sick", watch your ass. Prevention is key, but you will probably get sick. Pathogens happen, kids happen. Have fun with the kiddos, remind them to wash their hands and be ready to slug Emergen-C and green tea.
I think we all learned that one this year. I hear there are plenty of H1N1 vaccines available now.

The more I complain about flying and airports, the more I psyche myself out. This trip was cake with extra frosting. I'm glad The Lovely is around for these trips, though...it does help.
"Life is better when you have a co-pilot." That's right, I just ruined a very good movie by quoting it. As extemporaneous knowledge, I have gotten much better at the whole flying thing.

The best way to learn a new location is to burn gas and drive around the whole place.
Dallas has treated me well, so far. But I am a sum of my parts. It will take all seven intelligences to be successful in my new environment - socially, professionally, biologically. But I peel back to what has made this blog and these experiences so indelible...I learned from them.

So, I will leave 2009 with that. We have come a long way, baby...with or without the cigarette advertising references. But we have a lot more to explore. Next year, we will learn where malware comes from, why grass is never green on any side, where does that white stuff from the sky come from and why Cowboys fans are terminally on suicide watch.

But that will be next year.

Merry New Year, all. Talk later.

Happy Birthday, P30P

Yes.

It has been a year.

And I'm disappointed. We are not on the Googlized Top 20.

Screw it. We do things for us and we do things that make us happy. And if 30 years (and some change) has not told us that, then we are officially barking up the wrong tree.

Thank you to everyone that has posted in the last year. And if you are interested in posting...do not hesitate to let P30P know.

Thanks...and happy birthday, P30P. Now get a job.

Up next...the top Lessons Learned for the year. Stay tuned. Talk later.

Making scents of it all

They are everywhere these days, the ghosts of my boyfriends past. I smell them on the subway, in the store, and while I am waiting for my flight at the airport. I remember their smell more strongly than I remember their kiss. One wore Acqua di Gio. That smell brings me back to Aeros hockey games and watching sci fi while eating Pei Wei. Another wore Obsession, and it brings me back to softball games and my first heartache. What is it about those scents that I can't forget? They are marked on my olfactory memory for all time it seems. Perhaps it is my fault since one of my favorite things to do with my significant other is to bury my nose in their neck and inhale their scent.

Is my scent in someone's vault? Do men even pay attention to the signature scent of a woman? I tend to believe that men forget their exes (and their scents) as soon as another warm body comes along, but maybe there is someone out there who thinks of me when Amarige walks by? I'd like to think so :)

Swansong Corpus Christi, Pt. II

C'mon, it's not all that bad. The grass has always been greener on the other side. On my last diatribe, I was Captain Poopipants. But I really should put all of this criticism to the forefront because, when you think about it, local politics do not make a home.

Granted, it's fun to talk about outside of football season when only two guys at the office actually follow the NBA or college b-ball. But when it comes to calling something home, it doesn't matter about silly, almost asinine civic politics. Besides, driving up from Corpus to Dallas, I didn't see very many "Don't let them steal our beach." Hell, I still saw "W '04" driving up on I-35 to the 75201...twice!

I have to default to my father, as he said something similar to this retrospective. Basically, you are never away from family because family is in your heart. As sappy as that may sound, the same can be spoken for Corpus in two respects.

When you live somewhere as long as I have lived in Corpus, the city (no matter how larger or small, how "good" or "bad") becomes a part of your system. You build yourself around the social and physical adaptations. You are aware of the pace of the traffic, the cadence of speech and the twill of accents. The longer you are there, the more the city becomes a part of your physical composition...but thankfully, not a part of your DNA.

And when you live somewhere so long, you know it is never, ever, ever the place you are at that makes it a home. It's the people that make an emotional and intellectual vortex tolerable. Sure, it's a version of the Stockholm Syndrome, but it's much more lovable. It's the people in the office that make the case of the Monday's acceptable. It's the patch of nerds discovered that you can geek with. It's the series of couples that can commiserate anything from the price of gas to the difference between parenthood vs. cool aunt/uncle.

So, as many complaints I can feasibly make against Corpus, so too I have the same amount of counterpoints to the contrary to the complaints. Granted, I am not the biggest fan of the beach, but it's 20 minutes away. You want a lack of traffic, some on down (just be warned to the drivers that don't know what they are doing). You want a welding job, have at it. There are other pluses, but I will be cheating my readers from doing their own due diligence.

I will miss the Corpus Christians the most. Everyone I met and have known, I thank you for helping the sleepy city wake up at the second or third hit of the snooze button.

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) Red sheds just as much as Loki, especially in my car.
2) You can come home again when it comes to Plucker's Wing Bar. And no, I am not touching "fire in the hole". There's a time and a place for everything, and it's called college.
3) The best way to learn a new location is to burn gas a drive around the whole place.

So, the new base of operations has changed, but the single-edged blade that is this absolute waste of time will remain the same. The adventures will change, but still included. Hell, maybe I can find some new contributors in the 214. Talk later.

Swansong Corpus Christi, Pt. I

These scenes say it all (Downtown Corpus, November 2009).

The clock has started. I don't need a minute hand and an hour hand to tell time. The Navy calls me a "short timer". Educators think I have "senioritis". Officially, I have put in my two weeks. The door has opened and the opportunity availed itself. But, it wasn't in "This Same Ugly Town".

I have a very soft spot for Corpus. Granted, I didn't grow up here from birth. But I lived here long enough to know where to return to at curfew. I am a proud Tuloso-Midway graduate and when the going got tough, I recoiled back to CC for to lick my wounds and get back on my feet. Had I known that my recovery would have been so successful...ugh, I had no idea my recovery would be so successful.

I have always found Corpus to be such an anomaly. When I moved back from Austin (or what Dad calls, "Where Souls Get Eaten"), it was the little things that I thought were strange, like: why don't they syndicate "The Simpsons" at a decent time slot, how come the good restaurants are always closed on Mondays and why do the most scenic places smell like live shrimp. Then when I started paying attention to how this town operates, it became apparent that as much as people hate to admit it, it's quite the dysfunctional town. Limited tax base, disparity of wealth, population shift versus population boom, no advancement in new industry, ultra-dependence on service industry and tourism with no financial investment into growth, an influx on retirees with no young population replacement, a certain strata with education...I can go on.

I partitioned my swan song because there are some absolute wrongs to Corpus Christi (thus Pt. I). There are certain things I hate about this town, and it is far more rooted than just bad drivers. I hate how it is only accessible from an Interstate they just made up 30 years ago. I hate the general smallness of thinking, from mayor to non-voter. I hate how the slums aren't really slums. I hate how downtown isn't really a downtown. I hate the excuses. Then I hate the counter-excuses. It's the reason why kids don't stay. It's the reason for the incessant complaining on caller.com articles. As I mentioned in late July, I have my professional opinions. But my personal opinion played a part in our ultimate decision to ship out.

I don't know. Maybe I'm just falling under the same spell that lots of other younger Corpus Christians trip over. With my time in Austin and visiting other metro areas, I will never understand why (for example) one city as only 2 really crappy movie theaters (Dollar Cinema doesn't count). I start making the same simple comparisons with apples and oranges. Apples say, I hate the fact that no good alternate music act show up to CC. But, I know with the oranges, Corpus can't support the $50 for Them Crooked Vultures tickets. So it saddens me when I see things as part of the solution, the problems mount quickly to thwart.

Everyone...not just me, but the whole state...will benefit when Corpus gets in order. If you want to be a more-populous Port Aransas, then work on that. If you want to be Austin, work on that instead. Hell, if you want to be Odessa - which shouldn't be difficult with the oil presence - make that call and go forth. But figure it out. Quit languishing in your own excuses. Make a bloody decision and drive on.

So, for now...I hate you Corpus...for now.

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) There seems to be only one Quest Diagnostics that does drug testing. It's in Flour Bluff and it's kinda creepy. But they were professional, so I went with it.
2) Having professionals box up al your possessions is expensive. But the benefits always outweigh the costs.
3) Stress leads to a terrible diet. Thank God I haven't gained too much weight, but I am eating all sorts of junk right now...not good.

In part two, I will totally love on you, Corpus Christi. See, I told you my relationship with Corpus was dysfunctional. Talk later.

Home(less)?

Since I have recently uprooted 1600 miles from Corpus I have been musing a lot about what home means to me. Home for most of my life was the house I grew up in, surrounded by my family and friends I had known since 2nd grade. It may have been bitterly cold outside at times in the North Star State, but it was always warm at home. Even as I moved away to college and to graduate school, that stucco house remained home to me. Sure I made friends and enjoyed the places I lived, but I couldn't shake that my roots remained firmly planted on Livingston St. But then my sister was killed unexpectedly in a car accident at 38, and my dad followed a year later after a massive heart attack. Suddenly home represented bittersweet memories I couldn't face, and an emptiness time couldn't fill.

In a strange coincidence, I had closed on my first house in Corpus the day my sister died, and all I could think about at the time was that it would never feel like home. For almost 3 years it didn't feel like home, nowhere did. But then life snuck up on me, I formed deep friendships and even fell in love. My house was no longer just a structure, it hosted parties with all my friends, became a refuge from the winter for my family, and I realized you could get a good idea of who I was just by looking at the house and yard and all it contained. It was home, how did it become home without me realizing?

And then I did something I don't even completely understand myself. I moved out East, 1600 miles away from home. Sure it was a fantastic job, a great career opportunity, and a chance to live in a vibrant big city again, but for a girl who had spent the last 4 years wandering emotionally while staying put physically, it seems a strange decision. I left my friends, my boyfriend, my home all behind. So will this new place become home?One night, while unpacking, I was listening to the Boss, and I was struck by something he says. "It's a sad man my friend, who is living in his own skin, and can't stand the company." The Boss, I thought, knows what home is. Home is whenever you feel comfortable in your own skin, it is not a time or even a place. It is neither dependent on your friends or your family, but entirely on you. And that is why I had moved. I had found refuge in my friends and my life in Corpus, had tried to let their love fill the hole inside me, but after all this time it was still there. So here I am, "homeless" for now, but determined to feel at home in my own skin once and for all so that I will be at "home" wherever life takes me. Wish me luck!

Please Shut Up...Please

If not for me...do it for the kids (Hoot 'n' Hollar '08 with Jordy Cartier).

As we have mentioned before, this is not a sports blog. That field and category is so saturated from Deadspin to Brooks on Sports to I've Got Big Balls and I Know How To Use Them that I don't need to go into that tangent...plus, I don't have the time or the effort to interview coaches set to infinite repeat on their pressers to quadruple-checking stats and figures. But, here we are again at the middle of the college football season and I am turning sour like a college student's refrigerator.

But my disdain is not sourced from my team of choice, my beloved Longhorns. The University of Texas football club is making another undefeated run similar to 2005, which started the premature demise of Vince Young. The team, players and coaches are taking care of business, even with personnel shuffling and a simple philosophy of maintaining their fate in their own hands. To quote the venerable Mack Brown, "We are in the same position that we were last year. We controlled our own destiny last year being number one in the country after this game. And we let one second take it away from us and put it back in the system." Obviously, the team is saying the right things. Without nitpicking every single play from scrimmage, the team is responding to the words being said.

No, my anger and frustration is coming from the "system". But the "system" is far more outstretched than the idling computers computing the Bowl Championship Series formulas and analytics. The "system" includes the soothsayers and provocateurs that spew verbal vomit every Thursday through Saturday.

It's a dysfunctional relationship. As a college football fan, you wake up, take the dogs down, fire up the HD set and watch "the premier college football pregame show". As far as fans are concerned, it's the only pregame show. Hell, Big 12 Live on FSN has the production value of public access compared to the massive roadshow that is Gameday. Gameday is like your ex-girlfriend. She's pretty and fun and you learn something from her. Then, later on, she starts yelling at you, throwing dishes at your head, drinks too much and insults your mother, flirts with other dudes, then disrupts your whole system of beliefs. You love her, but she is emotionally draining, no matter how much fun she is.

Add the dysfunction with a completely subjective polling with the Associated Press, the Coaches' Poll and the Harris Poll. The AP poll lost it's teeth when removed from the BCS computer formulas. However, for some strange reason, I trust the AP because of the depth and diversity of the voter. The Coaches' is always skewed with axes to grind and conferences to bolster. The Harris is the biggest wild card because the "administrators" that have a vote could have no idea what a football looks like.

The straw that breaks the camels back is the Heisman discussion. For an award that is given before the bowl season, it takes up too much time and effort for journalists, broadcasters, analysis, scouts and random experts for something completely subjective that lately never translates professionally [see: Wuerffel, Danny]. Add the skew of former winners having a vote, and you have a discussion not only disruptive to the action week by week, you take away the team element to the ultimate team sport.

So, every weekend this season, these three annoying factors ruin a currently undefeated season from my favorite team. It started early with the Tebow-Bradford-McCoy constant interrelation of action. If Tebow is making out with a co-ed he doesn't love, the "system" wonders if Bradford and McCoy is doing the same thing (the last statement was a joke...we all know all three potential millionaires are performing mission work in third-world counties, simultaneously). The hype, even before the first snap, was getting to a dangerous level. The week one catastrophe of Bradford's injury turned the tailspin of hype into a monster of unnecessary, repetitive press into more hypothetical non-news of the future demise of Tebow and/or McCoy. Then Tebow went down...hard. The Heisman chatter was at a ridiculous level bringing in non-factors, one-gamers and dark horses...three full months before players are INVITED to the award.

Then there is constant drumbeat of "the SEC is the most awesome-est conference in the galaxy" that smart people always default. When will the "system" learn a) quit being lazy and watch a Mountain West or a Big East game once in a while and b) the teams in this conference always cannibalize each other. If it's not a scare like Alabama v. The Fightin' Lane Kiffins, it will turn somewhere else (...wait for it...). In 2007, LSU loses to a ranked Kentucky team and an unranked Arkansas team. They were rewarded with a National Championship bid where they beat Ohio State for their second crystal football in four years. They lost two games and still got the nod. Tandem that with the fact that the flip-flop number one team this year in Alabama was embarrassed in it's last big game that was outside the SEC. Every year, the loudest of the microphones fall back on this exhausted premise.

So, with the press fueling the "system", I can't enjoy a smashing win from the Longhorns against a Big XII North team like Mizzou, in their house, during their homecoming. Every time I hear Kirk Herbstreit on a monologue of how "tough" Alabama is in escaping Knoxville and how ugly UT is in taking care of business in Columbia, I want to punch him in his beautiful face. The "system" protects Tim Tebow and the Florida Gators with multiple number one votes and Heisman contention while chastising Colt McCoy and the Texas Longhorns with limited votes and disappointing qualifiers and mitigation. Garbage.

And why the hell is USC always receiving undying affection from the "system"? With foolish predictions like this, it makes watching and reading and following college football unbearable.

My ways to fix the "system":

• The Heisman should be awarded after the bowls. As a matter of fact, all the individual honors should be given after the triple-zeros are on the scoreboard. The only argument is the closing argument. If the Heisman is loosely representative as a team and individual award, then assess the whole body of work, not just twelve-thirteenths of the composite.
• Don't publicize the polls, especially the BCS. If you are going to incite rage, do it once. The natural discussion of comparison of teams will be there. There is no reason to put such stress on a flawed, subjective polling system when all that matters is the endgame. Make it like college basketball where no one knows if you are dancing until the selection show (hosted by Lee Corso and Lou Holtz...hilarious).
• Include everyone in the BCS. No more "BCS Busters". If you are a big school and a viable competitor for a conference championship, there is no reason for exclusion. Again, naturally, college football fans and media will generate discussion for your Boise States, TCUs and Utahs as potential champions. But the subjective, cherry picking, you are in/you are out choices hold the same credibility as the judging system for "Project Runway".
• In relation to exclusion, no more independent teams. That's right Notre Dame. Go to the Big Ten (with twelve teams). NBC can modify their contract to include the Big Ten Network. Army and Navy can make an Air Force Academy move and find a natural home in the Big East.

Of course, this is all contingent on the absence of a college football playoff (which I am convinced will never happen).

Maybe with those fixes, I can enjoy an undefeated season (potentially) in peace. These fixes are designed to remove the talk and chatter and asinine comments from the press (the prime mover of the "system"). Why talk about subjective issues when you can't see them? And that's all I want to do on a Saturday afternoon - watch some football of the alma mater, talk some trash about OU and pass out with the knowledge that some idiot in Bristol won't influence some mouthbreather in Atlanta to kick out the Longhorn from an undefeated campaign to a bid to Tempe...for another Tortilla Chip Bowl. Is that too much to ask?

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) Patience is a learned virtue.
2) If morale and confusion rule the day, then products and production suffers.
3) You can burn out a router. Seriously, it can just cook itself and burn out. I did not know that.

Well, I think I have taken care of the football post for the year. Too bad I have to suffer with Brent Musburger reminding us every week that Colt McCoy and Jordan Shipley are roommates. Maybe we can exclude random factoids during game telecasts? A man can dream, can't he? Talk later.

Life in the Time of Change

(This is Meli here, the last of the contributors. I was recently told that I too would be joining this dying breed unless I stepped up and posted something soon. With that quaint warning, I bring you my third post.)

Drum roll......


Change is the only constant in life.

We know this.

If you have been following Post Thirty Post (PTP) for any length of time, you probably know that a major life change may be in the works, and that at the very least, a minor change will surely happen.

For those of you who haven't kept up, our esteemed PTP leading man's current contract job will be ending soon.

For every door that closes, a new one opens.

This is exciting. This is cool for us. We are opening ourselves up to the possibility of anything and anywhere...moving to a new city or staying here with a new job...either is good...as long as it feels right.

Again, this is great stuff. It makes you focus and really take a look at your life and ask yourself once again, "What do I want?" and "What am I doing to achieve my goals?"

It also makes you see how grateful you are with what you currently have. I look around and I see family, friends, and a real sense of community here in Corpus. I have a great job that allows me to do what I love on a daily basis. I get to have an amazing life partner with me on this journey. I am blessed. No doubt.

What has occurred to me though recently is that I have somehow gotten into a
holding pattern of "stuckness" while awaiting this impending change.

Because we may move, I have been reluctant to start new things. I have been stalling out on new initiatives and not continuing other projects for fear that it may all be for naught, if we leave.

This cautious approach is no longer working for me.

The notion of putting life on hold, be it during a time of flux or not, flies in the face of the very core of LIVING.

It may sound sensible to some, as it did for me initially. After all, it is reasonable not to make major commitments and then have to drop the ball midstream. I would be letting people down and wasting a lot of people's time (including my own). Again, I am a huge fan of all things logical, and this is a sound argument.

However, I have to acknowledge the very real consequence of this life approach.

Simply stated: it is not working.

Perhaps it isn't working because I am not embracing the initial premise: change is inevitable.

We do not wait for change to happen before we act. We act and we make change happen.

With this post I am resolved to finding that balance again.

Life is always about living.

Till next time,

Peace.

The Six People You Will Meet At The Airport (but never will because you don't want to be that guy)

Update: Saturday, 3 OCT, 12:32:23 CDT - Wow, you guys need to warn me when my grammar and coherence loses this much control. Holy sentence diagrams! Thank goodness I have time to clean this up...

LIVE FROM THE BWI AIRPORT...IT'S THE POST THIRTY POST ROAD SHOW.

I had a great idea for a post this week, but life caught up with me...should I say, life overtook me. But more on that next week...

I have to say that it was unprecedented when we circled the outskirts of Houston due to weather concerns. It was even more unprecedented that I had my first "diverted" flight. However, there is "diverted", then there is what I had..."Uhhhhh, this is the captain speaking. Uhhhhhh, we are going to head back to Corpus. Uhhhhh, they are not accepting any incoming flights. Uhhhhh, we will be back and fuel up in 20 minutes so, uhhhhhh, sit back and 'enjoy' the trip back."

Fun.

Anyway, being in an airplane and an airport setting for the better part of 12 hours, I have made some distinct observations involving the status of air travel. Before I go all Seinfeldian on everyone, I just want to mention [again] that I loathe flying. Not that I'm claustrophobic, just that I am not a fan of not being in control. Now I know how my dogs feel when they want to sit up in the front seat but get regaled back to the back. It's instinctive of alphas that this sort of annoyance is there when control is lost or temporarily broken.

Upon observation, there are six constants when at an airport or in a plane. These are the people flying with you. And in a Utopian universe, you could ask them so many questions that a new level of human understanding would be achieved. But, I don't know if it's reconditioned human nature or time constraints or a lack of bravery toward that Utopian world that inhibits all of us to take time and find out about other people. Or, the fact that it is 5:56 a.m. and no one appreciates a chatterbox that early in the morning...maybe that's why we don't talk to the six people we meet.

...in no particular order...

• Young kid that is way too cantankerous to be on a flight but is at the terminal anyway: I am not anti-child. Hell, I was once a child (and still behave like one at times). Babies are not interesting to me because the cannot communicate effectively. But 3-5 year-olds are great. They are just as talkative as I want to be. Sure, they have huge potential to ruin a calm flight, but as crammed in as everyone is on a plane, everyone has that potential. Besides, when is the last time you have revisited how awesome fire trucks are? With the size and the lights and the sirens and the color...c'mon, those bad boys rock. But seriously, why didn't you leave the kiddo at Grams or Pepaw's house?

• Individual that speaks foreign language/awesome foreign accent that checks in with everyone before the flight: Maybe it's because I never had the drive or time to learn a foreign language. Two straight years of college-level Spanish and I still can conjugate tener, but I think we can learn tons from this person. First off, why is he or she on the phone with everyone in creation? Second, I just want them to start reading names from the phone book...I love accents. For some strange reason, it is ten-times more soluble to digest a foreign accent in person than over a phone (thanks, HP tech support). Anyone that can carry on in multilingual fashion has "interesting" written all over him or her.

• Senator John Cornyn...no, seriously, he was on my flight - or was I on his flight? Senator Cornyn is an interesting fellow. Forget the fact that I fundamentally disagree with every single thing he argues in support for, I think adversarial thinking is entertaining and interesting. I would have a slew of questions, but there is only a limited time to speak while he is devising strategy to shoot down health care reform. Again, nothing wrong with respectful disagreement. But, another observation was that he looked exhausted. I can only assume that his companion was his lovely wife...yet another perk as a US Senator...you can travel with Your Lovely (lucky!).

• Man or woman that checks in at the counter every 10-15 minutes: We can all argue personal importance and urgency to what we are doing at any specific point in time as THE MOST IMPORTANT EVENT/ITEM/OCCURRENCE EVER(!). But, you really wonder why they are checking in over and over again. Perhaps they have bigger control issues than me. However, this is my first impression and I am rerouted and laid-over in Houston overnight. I asked one question to one person overnight and got what I needed. The service industry has never been an industry out to get us. Sure, inconveniences in air travel have gotten our goat time and again. But there is really no reason to repeatedly go back and forth to a control desk unless you are the person with control issues. What's in your head? Why the stress? Why not go with the proverbial "flow"? What is so extremely important that you have to triple-check what has been written on your boarding pass the whole time? Simply put, what is the story?

• Two guys that look like they are in a band but probably not: These guys are always the chieftains that order a beer at 0900 (local time). They are constantly asking for directions. These guys are the closest to having a very interesting conversation with you, but they are too busy hitting on the bartender at the airport "pub". You do want to start a conversation, but they are too busy with their dissertation on how Muse is the next Led Zepplin. For some strange reason, you don't like where any of the conversations will lead. They have the gumption to start up a conversation, but you refuse to reciprocate. And that is lame.

• Me: I'm an interesting guy. I come full circle from my thesis. I want to know what makes microcosms of society tick. In transition, we find people in their most-focused or least-focused state. We are between flights. We are between destinations. We are away from home. We are coming home. We have fear and anxiety. We have hope and purpose. We move fast. We meander slowly. It's the constant flux that we never hone-in on but we have to because of the transitive state. So, I am that guy. I want to engage in how individuals move from point A to point B. But, I don't because while traveling in this state (specifically flight), we invert. We don't engage. The push-pull of why we are flying is overriding any sort of socialization that we long to invoke. But, hey, that's okay. We travel. We move forward. We go backward. We shift laterally. But wouldn't it be kinda neat if we took the time to discover this perfect opportunity? I not saying, I'm just saying...because I don't want to be that guy.

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) No matter what happens, don't panic.
2) Carry-on luggage is nice when you get diverted and have to stay overnight somewhere. Apparently, it's policy to keep your baggage overnight it you were redirected to another flight. You paid the $20, might as well earn the money.
3) Friendliness is still contagious. Bad days happen. Stupid things happen. All it takes is some understanding and a deep breath to make things easier for everyone involved.

Ha! Thematic posts...who ever heard of such a thing? As always, to my readers, I appreciate the catharsis that is P30P. Turning the mundane into the quotable is a fun exercise. One of these days, I might get used to flying. But Wonder Woman has yet to let me borrow her jet. Talk later.

post script - I really had a good post lined up for this week. We will hit it up when the time is right.

And Now, For Yet Another Socio-physiological Experiment

Now, if I can get the boys to abstain from human food, we will be okay.

At midnight, it will be fifteen up and fifteen down. Fortunately, I am not going through another Hell Month. But it's another important month for me internally - not so much externally.

You ever have one of those weekends where you exceeded a certain limit? For some people, it's athletic endeavors that do not end well. For others, it's eating too much cake in one sitting. I will admit, this used to happen a lot more back in college, but I seriously tied one on in the last weekend in August. That bottle of El Grado tequila did not know what hit it, until I hit it. That could be the root cause for no blog that week.

I realized the following day that staying up until oh-dark-30 and sipping aged tequila is a young man's game, like being a soldier or competing in "Project Runway". I did not feel well all next day. In recognition of knowing I am no longer 23 years old, I told The Lovely I was going to knock it off with the adult beverages for a month, starting 1 September.

A couple of things I should note: 1) I do not have a problem with alcohol. Sure, denial is the first step, but seriously...I don't have a problem. If I had a problem, I'm pretty sure my doctor, dentist, boss and spouse would be all over the problem. I don't want to discount that alcohol has been the cause of family, marital and violence instigation issues since we all figured out the metaphor to the catchphrase from "The Honeymooners". B) This is a test of wills. I am telling myself no beer, wine or stiff drink AT THE BEGINNING OF FOOTBALL SEASON! And watching the start of the Longhorn season, this is increasingly difficult. I guess my inner Catholic is kicking up, but is still failing to do the same during Lent due to the St. Patrick's Day conflict. C'mon saints, get it together...are we abstaining or are we driving out all the snakes from Ireland? Wait, what? Anywho, I am testing my body. Again, my doctor said all liver, kidney and heart functions were good and normal. But this is more of a mental test.

It's not fun unless you can challenge yourself. It's not fun if I can't run a minute faster than yesterday. It's not fun if I can't disassemble a desktop and see if I can put it back together functionally. It's not fun if I can't be better than I was yesterday. So, in that spirit, it's not fun unless I can abstain from drinking while still hanging out at bars. It is a challenge to remove a mainstay from my consumption and my learned culture. Within the challenge, I have learned that I was just like this in high school.

Enter flashback sequence here...

When I was in high school, I drove a Ford Taurus wagon and had a deathly fear for authority. So, as a good friend and better child/driver, I was the DD for all my buddies when we would go out to the "cement plant".
>>Quick aside, I think every teenager had a rendezvous point for shenanigans and Tom Foolery. Ours was the "cement plant". I think my older brother had a farm and my younger brother had the Solar Estates subdivision. But I digress...<<
So, I really didn't have my first drink-drink (not a sip where you ask your dad what the hell a Jackncoke is and he grants you said request...for a sip--I said a sip) until college. Thanks fellas. Fortunately, I didn't have to worry about public safety since I didn't have a car in college. Personal safety was another matter. So, I figured out that alcohol wasn't as cool as everyone made it out to be, but it's the person that makes the coolness.

And end the painful flashback here...

So, booze was debunked and I just enjoyed people's company...then the beverages. My consumption is no where never out-of-hand, but it is good to take a break. While on stated break, I am also examining some specific differences:

• The myth that the subtraction of empty calories is helping me lose weight - That is a Joe Wilson. I haven't lost an ounce. I'm still a shade over two bells.
• I still wake up having to perform half-yoga poses to wake up my body. With those actions, my body responds by sounding like a bowl of Rice Krispies. I had to do the exact same action after a couple of cocktails.
• What the hell is the point of going to a bar? Granted, I don't get stares or questions when ordering a club soda and lime. But seriously, I have a better TV and dependable Internet connection at home.
• I am drinking way too much sparkling water and Topo Chico.

But hey, a month of cleaning out never hurt anyone. So, I've got another half of a month. Don't be so surprised if this experiment continues to a random series of school nights as well. What did they say about how long it takes for a habit to develop?

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) It is impossible to argue the validity of any college football team after two weeks. With no preseason and teams playing Northeast Western Cupcake State, we won't know anything until 17 Oct.
2) Louisville is a nice town, Mr. Riggs. Not really sure why you would want to leave. But hey, it's your résumé.
3) Speaking of Corpus, according to BoldFutureCB (from the Twitter boards), "the fastest growing age groups in the Coastal Bend [between] 2007-2012 are expected to be those aged 65-74 and 55-64." So, when I build Post Sixty Post, the tagline will be "Where's my pudding!??!"

I would like to thank everyone for their support with this abstinence. Just about everyone, with the exception of a drunk Australian and a rude fellow cigar connoisseur, has been behind me 3000% with this break. It's fantastic I haven't had to trade-in any friends. Well done, everyone. Talk later.

He Keeps Talking About Work!

It's good to get a little frustration out.

Oh, it is very good to get back behind the drone of a liquid crystal display and the stickiness of a keyboard that's about to go out on me. I appreciate the patience to all six of my readers.

No movement yet.

Obviously the preoccupation of landing square on my feet has distracted me from my third-first love. But that just builds more material for posts. But the overriding issue remains the forefront.

So what does a grown-up like me reflect on? It's reflective moments like these that create an acute focus of desire, passion, aptitude, experience and challenge of skill that meld into a definitive answer. The answer is simple...now. The question is: what do you want to be when you grow up?

I can't be a dinosaur; that one has been taken. I want to be a security professional. And I know why. The experience and challenges previously achieved and hurdled affirmed that now more than ever, we need more security professionals. That's all there is to it. Just like we need smart teachers who are concerned about the growth of students, just like we need nurses that are passionate about doing the job right the first time, just like we need people to say what they mean and mean what they say, we need people at the proverbial fence.

Granted, I am becoming more and more embedded with Spook Central. But the news that breaks here, breaks everywhere. The Wall Street Journal tracks information security contractors like they are the new Twitter or Google. POTUS want a czar (bad example; government wants a czar for everything). And users still log on with unpatched workstations without an anti-virus program just waiting for the next event to "surprise" us . With this push, I would love to get in on this sort of action. But not because it's fashionable.

I think this education I have had for these three-plus has primed me for the next challenge. We have a baseline of where things lie and where things are supposed to be. A little training and certification has been a benefit. But it's time to see how the levers are operated on the other side of commerce and business.

I boil inside every day for the next opportunity to do good and defend and counterattack and prove the difference-maker. It's unfortunate that I don't have enough years under my belt to control the bubbling and heat and steam from the kettled reaction every morning because it sometimes manifest to cranky, misdirected anger. But maybe I have time to figure it out. Maybe.

This will weigh heavy on mind and heart until it is resolved. With the focus, I know what I want. With the experience behind, I know what I can do without. With the optimism projected to the universe, the address should resolve itself soon.

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) On the Eve's eve of The Admiral being enshrined into The Hall of Fame, I do agree with Jeff Garcia - the NBA did screw the pooch on a PR goldmine.
2) Oh, Corpus Christi City council, you guys are the gift that keeps on giving. Now, you can put down an incomplete for not doing your homework after you were elected. You stay classy...
3) College football, as much as I love it, is the biggest Catch-22 known to modern times. Either I shell out have a paycheck for a lousy ticket in the nosebleeds or my ears start bleeding from pay-by-play announcers and Kenny Chesney every commercial break with TV coverage (even worse, I could only find the only other college-football-associated song unbearable for ears). Oh, I missed you so, college football!

As I have been telling everyone that asks: any change, I will certainly let someone know. Until then, talk later.

C'mon Corpus, Help a Brotha Out

Yes, it is time for a change, but nothing TOO drastic.

As it is common knowledge for everyone that knows me, I am looking for employment. It's nutty that every time someone says, "yeah, I'm looking for a job", it always means that it's elsewhere. Euphorically, I didn't think that was going to be the case of me. Too bad my vocation is way too esoteric for the Coastal Bend.

Absolute sadness.

As of Monday afternoon in queuing the caller.com Jobs section (called hotjobs - what an absolute asinine name) searching the "technology" section, there were seven listings. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Two of the listings had nothing to do with "technology" (why would "Models Needed- All Ages, Looks and Types" be in the "technology" search field?). Two other listings have to do with the military, however you have to be in the Naval Reserve or the National Guard...yikes. Nothing like searching for a job in Corpus to find out you are shipped to Afghanistan two weeks later patching top-secret Windows "boxes" while a Taliban surge in raining rounds of AK-47 caliber bullets to the tech bunker. In essence, only three of the seven listed jobs are actually a tech job in the Corpus area. One, two, three.

If I type in "healthcare", there are 134 listings - mostly legitimate leads running the whole gamut of the medical field, from billing to nursing.

So, a city with a population of 266,000 (estimated) only needs three people to work on networks, applications and systems. Granted, this is shorthanded listings from caller.com, but seriously, WTF?

Even the bastion on Internet salvation, craigslist did not have any Corpus IT leads either. But in "security", there was a bodyguard listing available. I don't think I can grow from a CISSP when trotting sidecar to the Jonas Brothers. The tech support listing had six leads with one lead labeled "Chrysler Service Writer". How the hell is writing service contract for cars a tech support job? That's a "writer" position by any stretch of the imagination. And why do I need "reliable transportation" for Tech support? Cheeky bastards want me to burn miles on my vehicle for $10 an hour? I don't think so.

For a laugh, I checked the austin.craigslist.org site for Systems/networking jobs...yeah, 34 leads since 30 June.

I just don't get it. As far as this town is considered, I think there are a handful of severe shortcomings that inhibit any sort of new or existing IT talent to be fostered or imported.

• What company (large or small) would have the intestinal fortitude to build a NOC, data or IT center in a city that is 17ft above sea level? I know one does...but beyond that, there are very few.
• Okay, okay, economic downturn blah-blah-blah. But when there was an economic uptick in the nineties, with the dot com splash, where was the Sparkling City By The Sea? So the cheap bastards hire some guy that six months away from retiring that "knows computing machines", runs the IT shop and is now the CIO. That is crazy scary.
• Give credit where credit is due - the small IT shops that are supporting bigger companies and agencies did their homework to corner the market. Richline, Identity Theft Solutions and RSSS have done very well for themselves raising their hand and saying out loud "I know computers".
• All the IT professionals hired for IT professionals are probably doing something else, like running a school district, teaching Health class of being the middle management of an off-shoot department...and I'm not even going to mention the deficit of security departments with this staff paradigm.
  

It's sad how marginalized how IT is down here. And I'm not bitching about my position. We are talking about ALL of IT.

That's cool. If this town has settled with losing corporate headquarters and building pollutants for the future, then let's not get the largest growing sector of business to get in the way of negative growth.

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) Never invest in an investment plan than you can't break away from at a moment's notice. It's your money. Don't let The Man tell you how to run it.
2) Looking for a new jobs is it's own full time job.
3) The stress is literally making me nauseous.

Looks like I am going to be bitching about employment opportunities until I find a solid job. To clarify, there is nothing wrong with contract jobs. It's just that there is no love here locally with contract jobs. Until Corpus turns into the next Ft. Sam, a proliferation of contracts are not going to mosey down the pipe until CCAD multiplies tenfold. Crap. Relocation is sounding better and better. Talk later.

"Contractor" is a dirty, dirty word.

Ah, yes, those were happier times, August 2008.

I want to complain. I want to bitch. I want to scream at an entity that has no ears and plays games with livelihoods. But I don't know what good that will do.

Usually I get great catharsis with P30P. But tonight, I really can't go into the details. I can't drill down why a broken system can be saved by a scrappy team of misfits (because it might sound like too much like a Quentin Tarantino vehicle), but I really want to.

I know it's unclassified. But still, we do important work. I'm calling the gag order on prudence and better judgment.

Generic time: all I can really gripe about is a system that was doomed to fail once somebody crunched the right numbers. Why would the government hire an overpriced outfit to do tasks that you could easily specialize soldiers and civilians to perform? Why would someone form a company that has no corporate paperwork to show for themselves? Why would anyone sign on with a "corporation" that has no proof of corporate continuity? Easy - it's the evil root.

Contracting is evil. I'm not talking about buildings and paved parking lots. I'm talking about military contractors. I'm talking about the no-bid bastards that don't deliver a damn thing but the CEOs of the contracted company make millions in the turn of a ball point pen. I'm talking about the low ballers that oversell the value of an hour but under buy the souls of workers. I'm talking about stinking capitalists that could care less that the government, with specialists, could probably do it faster, cheaper and more efficiently. But it doesn't matter because the all mighty dollar is driving this uninsured bus.

I'm angry at myself for creating this illusion of solid status. I knew this was not the ideal situation, but I gutted forward because I was learning an exponential amount of knowledge. But now that I have my Microsoft chops, learning accomplished. This plan of action should have been executed last month.

So, if anyone cares, I am looking for a job. I love long walks and small, cuddly animals. I love Information Security, but I am still a FNG at the hardcore stuff. I know my way around "the most expensive Operating System known to man". I have some certs and a degree, but I can always sit down and look for some more. I may not be the smartest guy in the room, but I will work harder to outsmart the guy. This posting thing doesn't pay squat and I have two dogs and a decent lifestyle to support (yes, yes, and I am married, but we know that). If anyone has any leads, please don't hesitate to pass them along.

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) Celebrating a half-anniversary is a very good way of keeping the relationship fresh. That and hotel rooms...is a very good way of keeping a relationship fresh. BONUS: Anytime you see a hotel called "historic", that is code for "small".
2) As mentioned before, other towns get it. If the service at any random restaurant, bar, dealership, shopping center is good, people will WANT to visit. Thank you, San Antonio. Corpus has a lot to learn from you.
3) As of midnight Monday morning, we have 47 days until the first Horns football game. Baseball and Lance quitting on me just isn't doing it for me.

No, but seriously, if anyone finds some job leads for me, contact me. Talk later.

Live on the Black Market (Revival)

Black Market Revival left it all on the stage, literally.

I had all the right intentions. I prepared questions. I thought about the story angle. I used all the journalistic skill honed from skipping classes in college to get this story right.

Then Saturday rolled around. After starting the evening at "Twisted Spurs", we relocated to the House of Rock for a homecoming. My favorite local band done good, Black Market Revival, returned for some home cooking. This gig had the same electric feel as all other shows for this talent group. Old "family" friends made their way back to the dark and scary venue that we loved. It reminded me of Festivus.

Turning the clock back a moment, D-Small and I had an AM radio show called "The ALT". Yes, I have mentioned this bit of trivia before - I know. But it never gets old. It was a nice run. We had 25 weeks on the air. One week featured BMR as a three-piece. And the band was awesome enough to be on the lineup for our holiday show, known as the Festivus for the rest of us. Ah, memories.

So, Saturday had that same special feel with some alterations. House of Rock has gone through some cosmetic changes, making a cellular split from HoR to The Venue. BMR had a new bassist in David. I was married. Sasha got another haircut. There were some other bits and pieces that were there or missing or in flux, such as The Davids not in attendance. All in all, the band sounded great (as I was kicking myself, I did not grab a set list before the set). And a great time was had by all.

It is why I regret the bittersweet feeling I am experiencing the day after. Sure, part of it is remembering the halcyon days of hanging out with a rock band (regardless of being local or national...a rock band is a rock band). But maybe it's the fact that "you can't go home again". I might catch another BMR show again someday. But more than likely I will have to travel for it. The quartet now claims Austin as their base of operations. Usually, that is a kiss of death for former Corpus Christians...

Tangential: next time you talk to someone from or in Corpus, count how many times they make out-of-town references. Nine times out ten, it's in reference to cool items or subjects. For example, I got a great new pearl-snap shirt. When I was in AUSTIN, I picked it up off South Congress. I called my buddy in SAN ANTONIO to see if there were any techie or security jobs available. The Lovely used to live in NEW YORK CITY.

I digress, it's like the restaurant you used to go to as a kid. You go back, it's not as good. Don't get me wrong, BMR was magnetic as usual. But with all the compiled differences of this show in comparison with all the previous BMR shows, I just felt...depressed. You knew it was different even though you were still singing along with "Pigtails and Pocketbooks".

So, I guess when you get older you can't enjoy anything anymore. I need to call the state and get my name changed to Debbie Downer (queue the music: whaaa-waah).

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) So, El Nino is back. Somehow that story doesn't have the same impact during an economic downturn. Why were the 90's so awesome?
2) Speaking of economics, I freaking love this feature story from Texas Monthly. Apparently, this guy loves technology more than I do.
3) I am one more screw up away from kicking Time Warner Cable to the curb.

I need to quit depressing myself with these sobering posts. Maybe I will do some politics or arguments versus massive megafarms and their impact on national health. No, I think I need to complain about sports. Talk later.

A Conversation with Death

In memory of:
Maria S. Ramirez
1936-2009
Narciso Salinas "Chicho" Luis
1936-2009
Russell Hugh McMains
1946-2009

Pardon the repeated theme, but it seems to be reigning the headlines. However, eff the headlines. In most cases, micro has much more impact than macro.

Recently, the thought of death was passing. This week, notsomuch. Guilt set in when I was reminded that it only takes two and a half hours speeding southbound to get to abuela's house. It sucks that you get those reminders when it's a bit late regardless of what Dad said, even though it wasn't a big deal to visit.

Compound that with the complications I learned with abuela's two weeks in the hospital, and I was reminded that death has a precursor. Let's just say it was a textbook case of what happens without a living will and an executor. My dad with the help of my sister and my uncle took care of the rest of the unpleasantness that you don't think about until it's either too late or too-too soon.

So, after all of these necessary evils, Dad and Sis have figured out they want two things: 1) no suffering if everyone knows the prolonged treatments won't do any good and B) cremation seems to be all the rage. Unfortunately, that is a start.

It's too much to process that turns quickly into a slippery slope. If it's not the "what to do when I am sick", it's the "what to do when I finally depart". Then, after, it's the "bury, cremate or other". Then it's the "what to do about the memorial". Then, you always have the "when I go, I want a party" comment. But really, when is there a party when someone just died...unless you are a despot or mass murderer. It's way too much to process especially when you are the one that just passed.

When you grow up and you see loved ones leave, you have to start making difficult decisions. The big lesson learned is (as a reminder): our time is finite. Regardless of how well or lousy we take care of ourselves, we must still depart. I feel there is a lot left to do. My impact is still awaiting, but in the effort to remind myself to get something drafted, I want to post my wishes on the Internets to not only remind my readers and beloved, but also myself. To thyself, stay (somewhat) true.

• Dad and Sis have a good idea. Cremation is a pretty decent way to do it. No open caskets where you look nowhere near as well as you used to or no pine boxes where you stare at unfinished wood. Nah, "ashes to ashes" sounds better than the Bowie track.
• My ashes should be released on the Colorado River. Sure, do it in Austin, or do it in San Saba County - I don't care. Just as long as it gets me to the Gulf, I should be fine.
• So, I mentioned a party. Yeah, don't worry about gathering on my account. If you are going to be at my drop zone, fine. But don't suffer in suits and ties and summer heat on my account. Make that wish happen and move on. It's bad enough I have wasted people's time with dying on them.
• No effing eulogy. I haven't done anything but damage bank accounts and smile at photographs. And even if my impact was felt on people that weren't my immediate family/friends, I still wouldn't want one. Again, quit wasting people's time.

Wow, that was macabre.

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) It's not really a three-day weekend when you are busting ass still trying to move into the domicile all three days.
2) I have a new-found respect for Andy Roddick. At the very least, he is coach-able.
3) If you are trying to "say tober" at a bar, take it easy with the water-back with the adult beverage. It kinda backfired for me. So, maybe I should just not drink to stay sober, period.

Well, enough of this Fourth of July wholesome goodness. I think next week, I will blog about my favorite "area" rock band as they make their return to the Bend of the Coast. Who knows, I may go all Huffington Post or Daily Beast on this gig. You know, without the aggressive liberal spin and the political banter. Until then, talk later.

Hell Month, Pt. IV - Vacations and Crashes Back To Reality

I wish I could say we were talking about improving society. I wish I could say that.
(from left: Stacy, Arden, Matt, myself and Jennifer)

I have done my share of complaining this month. Mercifully, the month is winding down. This past weekend was the planned break where I celebrated my MCSE Security+ status with a handful of days away from computers and OEMs. Of course, that plan was kibosh-ed. So, before I ran away, I had to rack up a ton more hours at work before I could vacation at a house that was a non-refundable purchase.

To rid myself of the curmudgeon mindset, the sand and the sun of Port A was just the ticket. And misery loves company. The Lovely coordinated with all of her old high school buddies to make this vacation happen. Everything went off without a hitch. Everyone had a great time and no one lost a finger or a flip-flop in the process.

However, my only bitch with vacations is that you need to unwind from the unwinding. Example: Michael and Jen drove from Fort Worth with their three kiddos to make this happen. Matt met Stacy at the airport with delays from planes with mechanical issues trying to connect from Corpus to Port A. Tash and Bry rolled in from Shreveport with Bry having to ace a phone interview while on this trip. Cliff and Arden trucked it from San Antonio with a metric ton of fishing gear in tow (including a bay kayak). How can anyone consider all this work a vacation? Sure, it beats staring at spreadsheets and nodding off in front of dual monitors, but that is a massive amount of work to try to relax.

The only Hell from this section of Hell Month was realizing that 1) paradise is thirty minutes away on Park Road 22 and B) all this work to rest is still work. Clarity is painful sometimes.

With all this charging at full tilt for relaxation, reality seaped in on the last day - my grandmother, who has been fighting the good fight since two Thursdays ago, passed away in the early morning hours of Sunday. She had been sick for a while. Her good days were intersparsed with her bad days. The relief is that she doesn't have to fight anymore.

It's never as bad as it seems, whether the feeling of inequity looms and challenges come in rapid succession and delights come with struggle and strife. The whole concept of Hell Month was to make light of the humdrum and lament that comes with a busy month. But these last 24 hours have put it in it's perspective. Ironically, I close out Hell Month on Tuesday going to my grandmother's rosary.

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) No matter how well you sunblock performed the previous day, two straight days in the sun will burn you. Reapply all you want, you skin is cooking is the slowest convection oven, ever.
2) It is very difficult to grow a fan base when you blow a 2-nil lead in the first half.
3) Don't be loud at Lisabella's. Your food will be two hours late and uppity white women will sick the head chef on your table to tell you to pipe down. In retrospect, we should have walked.

So, no more of the on-and-on about the woe-is-me after 30 June. Life if a challenge as much as it is a gift. And it only took me 29 days to figure that one out. On to sharper topics next week. Until then, talk later.

Hell Month, Pt. III - The Parallels Are Uncanny

Dad is to Detroit Diesel, as I am to Microsoft.

So, when I was a kid, Dad busted his ass moonlighting at Auto Shack while working diesel engines at day. Every once in a while, after his killer professional schedule, he would unwind with his glass of sweet tea (way, way, way too much sugar than should be in any beverage) and a Marlboro Light (or five). and lug home these 5-inch binders of study material that would make law students gulp.

He was always getting certified for Detroit Diesel engine makes and models. I would always recognize the ominous red and yellow logo, specifically for the Series 60 models. And, like clockwork, he would knock out his certification, bring home a certificate or plaque or some version or "atta-boy" that they would think of for that particular exam or the consistency of my dad knocking that exam out of the park.

(Dad, if you are reading, I am kinda fuzzy on what the hell the requirements were. So, you will have to forgive me if I embellish the fact that you were, and still are, a badass.)

I thought it was a Herculean effort. Every time that certification challenge was presented, he would ford along, taking it down, knowing his stuff and becoming better with the continued education, regardless of the esoteric subject matter.

Hell Month continued with one huge goal accomplished. Microsoft calls it MCSE. It's just another industry acronym described as Microsoft Certified Systems Engineer. Basically, it's a battery of tests proving a) Microsoft is the finest software product on the market today and any day and 2) if you think you know what you are staring at when that goofy little flag shows up at a computer startup...you don't.

But, the goal has been accomplished. I am an MCSE with a couple of cherries on top Microsoft calls "Security+". With that distinction, Microsoft has acknowledged that some electives were taken that stresses computer and operational security within the 2003 platform (you know, Windows XP and 2003 Server...the OS people actually like).

Why do I think my dad is a badass? Because I have officially been in front of the 5-inch binder of minutiae certifying myself as an individual that knows what he is talking about. Professionally speaking, continued education is everything. If my dad doesn't know the proper part number for the head gasket for a Series 60, he is slow to the punch. That delay could cost him a sale, an account, a trust that is fostered with the rest of his illuminated tool set.

Why are we alike? Because we continue to learn. Maybe because it's neccessity. Maybe because out careers are offshoot passions. Maybe because we have discovered that if we do not continue to learn, we stunt our growth intellectually and biologically. I can't speak for my father's motivations, other than making a decent living for all of us kids and making sure we all turned out pretty solid human beings. But he still busts out binders and study guides. Sure, the last one I saw was for a shooting (yes, with a gun) competition. But the thirst for knowledge and the challenge of the brain game is still there.

So, today, maybe just in this one instance, I can safely say that we are a lot alike. That is no too shabby of a likeness to compare.

Dad. Thanks.

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) I knew there was a reason I didn't watch CNN anymore. Sure, the website is great, but the live afternoon coverage is insufferable.
2) Positive reenforcement and modified meditation works. I dare anyone to try it and see what happens. On that tangent, I send my postive vibes to all my family that needs it.
3) You know when you are "post-thirty" (TM) when East 6th Street in Austin, TX on a Saturday isn't the first choice for a relaxing evening.

Hell Month continues with reckless abandonment. We are back on insanity schedule at work. But Friday I make the sojoun to the only clean beach in the area. Port A is part of Hell Month for a reason. Full report inbound. Until then, talk later.