You can NEVER go home again.

Austin has it's highlights, like the "biggest Mexican I have ever seen".

So, P30P is not winning a Pulitzer this week. It's just more incessant complaining on what used to be and what will never be again. Call it the Andy Rooney approach.

I spent twelve years of my childhood in San Antonio, where I learned my appreciation for good Tex-Mex and Spurs basketball. When you are young and "poor", it's the little things you tend to appreciate. As a perfect attendance award winner at Pecan Valley Elementary, we were awarded a free dinner at Pesos Cafe every six weeks we achieved the goal. The cheese enchiladas were great, but they were free and as an eight year-old. About 10 years ago, my parents and I went back to Pesos for the same traditional menu and ornate goofiness you would expect at a 20 year-old Tex-Mex restaurant.

"Welp, you can't go home again."

Those were the only words I remember my dad saying the whole time we were there. I'm sure he said some other important things, but this statement resonates for the depressing realization of the passing of time.

Fast forward (then hit rewind) to last weekend. Of course, as the timing pattern would have it, The Lovely and I would land in Austin for a third consecutive year for the last weekend of South by Southwest (SXSW). The tradition continues for us, but the insanity seems to exceed the previous years by indication of the local annoyance levels.

Sure, it was the perfect storm on Friday night with South-by out-of-towners roaming about and the old Thursday Night crew coming in from out of town as well. But when driving in from MoPac onto 5th Street under the cover of night...welp, you can't come home again...anymore.

Off the bat, you see this monstrosity scraping the formerly tranquil skies of Austin. Seriously, this is the biggest sore thumb I have seen in a while. It has to be 50-75 feet taller than anything else, if it's an inch. Once driving down 5th...it's absolutely ridiculous. It's the absolute opposite of "gun store, gun store, liquor store, gun store". It's high rise, retail space, parking garage, high rise, retail space, parking garage, rinse, later, repeat. Yeah, sure, California real estate is retarded (satire!) but that doesn't mean they have to develop downtown Austin like some gentrification experiment on speed.

I didn't recognize the place.

I hate to get on the old man platform, but it's pretty bad that ten years ago the UT Tower was on of the top five tallest buildings in the city...ten years ago! I don't know if I made up that stat up, but it sounds good. It was also the perception. The sleepy college town from the sixties and seventies grumbled with nineties expansion. Now you have...present day Austin.

Granted, I don't want to sound like the huff that complained about the Frost Tower or the DKR expansion. Austin is blowing up - has been for the last fifteen years. Slackers and professionals alike are still moving to the capital city in droves even if they don't have a job, a plan or any permanence to sustain living in the 512. If there's expansion, there has to be growth. I just didn't think it would be all vertical and saturating one zip code.

So, I did not go "home" last weekend. I was previously forlorn every time I had to leave my beloved Austin. Now, with the unrecognizable characteristics, Austin has become the ex-girlfriend that has a kid and never lost the baby weight. Oh well. I have my Dallas to fall back on.

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) Uh, yeah...SXSW 2010 final score: a) crowd is either getting out of hand or b) locals are getting more and more crabby. I am scoring this a draw.
2) Sure, the food might be marginal, but Baby A's have fantastic margaritas. Remember kids, a cab or a DD is ten times cheaper than a night in the clink.
3) As much resistance as there is with Texans and toll rolls, Toll 1 should be a case study in how to do it. Stress-free, worry-free, check's-in-the-mail system that works for me and gets me where I need to be sooner than effing I-35.

For those that are unaware, I will be shifting to vampire mode starting this week. If you can't tell by the post time today I will be doing work overnight from here on until...I don't know when. It will be an interesting three months, especially with SANS, Beach to Bay and other training goodness. But nevertheless, if an email or text or phone call is in order, I will always answer the bat phone and respond to the bat signal - day or night. So, please bear with me as I haven't been this nocturnal since my wedding night. Talk later.

Several Random Topics All At Once

From this perspective, every topic is random

Let's be honest, I think I speak for everyone when I say that the first three months of oh-ten have been retarded (I used satire). On this eve-eve of St. Patrick's Day - the day he drove all those snakes from Ireland then we appropriately drink green beer at two bucks a pitcher (what?) - and on the eve-eve-eve of The Madness (what, you haven't filled out your seven brackets yet?), my brain and consciousness can only handle scattered thoughts and expanded Twitter entries. So, why don't we load this literal shotgun of scatter-shot and see what we hit, shall we?

I start with a question: would you rather have full job security with all the benefits you could think of, but have to work the absolutely worst shift known to man OR work for a spot with a shaky stance for continued employment with the hopes that someone might pick you like it's some grade-school dodge ball game? See, that's a trick question because I already made that call. However, the worst shift to man is terrible (ref: Cleveland Brown, "Terrrrrible"). Come 29 March, I will clock in...at 11PM. Yeah, you read that right. HEB shelf stockers have a better shift than I do. It's a 10-hour schlep with three on and two off. So, I'm like the fireman of cyber security...but it's not a 24-hour shift. Well, that parallel didn't make me feel better! Anyway, that's coming. At least I get to visit Boston before I turn into a vampire. But it's okay, sports fans. I signed up for this. But, I won't be doing this tour forever.

Responsibility is an awesome power because it gives you foresight such as, "hey, I think we should take a cab tonight." Might I say that cabs are brilliant. Whoever thought of cabs is a certified genius. I go out. I get silly. Someone drives me home. It's absolutely brilliant. It's so effective in it's simplicity that I kick myself for not using cabs earlier. Yeah, I will admit it. But, seriously, this cab thing is awesome.

Is anyone else in the camp of celebrity-news-makes-me-lose-brain-cells? I know I can't be the only one thinking, "Why do I care what Jessica Simpson thinks of Gabby Sidibe? Wait, how do I know who Gabby Sidibe is? Oh, never mind, I know why? Because she was on 'The Soup'. I watch 'The Soup' to shortcut all the terrible television out there so I don't have to suffer through it." I just can't be the only one. But seriously, why is Charlie Sheen's (his name is Estevez!) court appearance infiltrating coverage on POTUS's last push for health care reform? Granted, John Boehner has a Hollywood orange skin-coating...err...tan. But still, leave it out. Baby steps toward Idiocracy is not a winning formula.

I think everyone should go out to dinner on a school night. There is a 100% possibility that you will either end up with heartburn or a hang over, but sometimes enjoying other people's company on a night you wouldn't normally reserve such activities for, it adds that fear of, "oh, I have no idea how I am going to feel tomorrow, but damnit, I am going to have another scotch." Sure, the risk is there, but sometimes the reward is just getting out of your comfort zone, even for a few hours, to throw that hair back and feel like a man (or woman) of leisure. It's a great feeling, especially if you have accomplices.

I may have to go into a part two, but that's enough shotgun target practice for today.

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) Nothing against my surrogate home town of Austin, but if you ever have to plan anything in that crazy city, DON'T DO IT DURING SXSW (no hyperlinks needed, just search austin360.com, wired.com or sxsw.com and you will understand the Charlie-Foxtrot that city is right now until Sunday).
2) Amazing that a miserly nerd can a) get a show on TELEVISION and b) scare the eff out of everyone simultaneously. Where's my agent?
3) This town does St. Patty's Day (weekend) right. Great job, Dallas Drunks.

So, sneak preview of next week's post...the Inglorious Basterds of Whiskey Bar are having a reunion. The only difference is...we all have WAGs (wives and girlfriends). Very...very...extremely interesting. Oh yeah, and it's during the last weekend of SXSW. Yeah, I am going to need to post this. Talk later.

The New Sense of Responsibility

It's like first realizing that snow is cold.

As superhero reincarnations go, this would be my second. I was a hero in a past life many moons ago before fading to a dark side that not many people know about. With some help, the villain changed his uniform. I started doing for the greater good, with some help from my friends. Now, the uniform is worn hoping to graduate to a cape some day. But such a Kafka metamorphosis origin and rebirth tale will be reserved for another day. Not knowing how many times I will have this blessing, I am trying to make the most of it.

Maybe it's this particular mentality that I speak from, because some of you may not know where I am going with this parallel. There are certain environments that heed an acceptance of certain behaviors. Continuing with the crime/punishment, good/bad theme I started with, one would expect (for example) how the institutionalization of a prison would create the desperation or the reform for a prisoner behind bars. You expect and assume that such behaviors and activities would be accepted in such a hostile and controlled environment. That assumption goes for plenty of environments and descriptions: brokers and Wall Street, the White House Press corps and the morning briefing, TMZ.com in front of celebrities...there are expectations within a microcosm experienced.

Such is the case with IT professionals in technical environments, be it personal or commercial systems. The expectation is that "we" (yeah, I guess, with four years into the biz, I can be considered as such a professional) know our way around hardware, operating systems, applications, methods of transport and other languages, is some cases. It's with this assumption that lay-mans ask for advise, support and a helping hand here and there.

The problem with assumptions is the truth is usually more than meets the eye - and I don't mean to associate IT folks with Transformers. Since I have been indoctrinated into this environment, the general assumptions have been benign for the most part. But when you get deeper into the rabbit hole, the erosion of the soil gets more and more obvious in the descent.

By nature and trade, IT folks tinker and experiment and break to rebuild and rebuild to thrive. Faster, better, stronger...without having to do one push-up. So, with innovative, engineering minds toiling away at solutions, some minds wonder. When they wonder, it looks benign on the surface, but is much more insidious that first imagined.

I laugh every time Stephen Colbert heeds the "invisible hand" of the free market. If he made time with any IT professionals, there would definitely be some "free" talk, but not a word about market. As my new cape is still on order, I see a conflict of morality with my fellow heroes...

It's the main reason why companies worry more about the inside job than the outside hack. It's the reason why countermeasures are made with watermarks and service packs to ensure integrity of product. It's the dirty, filthy, noisy secret that the IT world would never let you in on, unless you have the fifteen spare minutes in the lab or the back-knowledge of packets of data slowing down everyone's throughput.

To my IT brethren, I implore you to KNOCK IT OFF! With the general public's ever-growing knowledge and accessibility of technology and the continued general morality of the difference between right and wrong...CUT IT OUT. Just because we know how to break digital watermarks, procure legitimate product keys, acquire software developers are being laid off for, doesn't mean we have to continue our amoral practices.

In my partial decade of being an IT guy, I have seen a continued apathy and disregard for theft of product and art that hundreds of people expect compensation. It's just not right. On a daily basis, no one would steal the Mona Lisa from the Louvre. Why would anyone steal source code from Redmond, WA on such a frequency? Or for that matter, a full set of film reels from Paramount Studios?

This disregard must cease. The trickle-down is here and now with $8 movie tickets, exorbitant prices for software titles (leading to cuts in traditional-tech jobs like programming and quality assurance) and degradation of a world wide network that is pushing like a "series of tubes".

Now, in no way, shape or form am I saying "quit downloading, you are scaring the children!" The "invisible hand" is noticing the paradigm shift to where not everyone will enjoy the 56" LED with traditional entertainment service providers. The Internet is turning more and more like our TV-Looky-Box. Viacom, Hulu and YouTube get it. And also, there is quite a few alternative freeware versions of regularly-expensive software. Thank you very much, OpenOffice! No, this is not that argument. We can yield plenty of use from other legitimate sources (that want to email us every time there is an update).

No, no. This is just a special message to all of my IT buddies that know they are doing wrong. Are other IT folks that don't partake in the grand theft data accessories to the constant crime? Complicity is a bitch, isn't it? I would like to bring up the discussion as to why the state of the Internet and the state of IT is where it's at, one could easily argue that with this continued look-the-other-way mentality, it could get much worse.

Truly, how many more dominoes must fall before the doppelganger heroes of IT realize that the morality play is one-sided, not layered? Guys (and ladies), you know who you are. And you know what to do.

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) No matter how long I live here, I will never become a Mavs fan. Sorry. Sloppy, slow, dispassionate basketball is not my thing. At least a Spurs fan appreciates what they have (which is one pro sport team in there town--and that's it!)
2) There should really be a class on how to fill out your W-4 form when you get married. Seriously, can someone help me carry the 2?
3) The Lovely and I have moved to the Metroplex during the second snowiest winter EVER! I don't know what kind of omen that is.
In the bonus: Happy Birthday to the big brother. Brother, you are my brother.

Quick disclaimer: not every IT professional steals product and art from the Internet. In fact, it's a very limited number. Not all IT folks hack or crack or steal. But there has to be a sense of responsibility and trust when we know the whole is the sum of it's parts. If you are good, stay good (and vigilant). If you are bad, even part of the time, the example is not being set. Talk later.

Discovery Mode: MALFUNCTION

All dressed up...and everywhere to go.

Since landing in 32.782778, -96.803889, the big benefit to moving north was having activities to do without burnout or boredom or reruns. It happens when you move from a "metropolitan" area that has more Farm to Market roads than zip codes. I don't want to call it overwhelming, but two months of adjustment is necessary. I jumped at the chance to hit up P.F. Chang's before waiting in line in a Corpus mall.

Of course, in abnormal fashion, I have inadvertently knocked my engine from drive to reverse and neutral. As I wanted to do in Corpus but just couldn't get it right, I have successfully pulled off the homebody label. Granted, being a homebody as a dazzling urbanite is a bit different than what I tried to pull off in the 361. But, I need to venture out to practice my spacial, geographical intelligence.

Either I am staying put or visiting the same places over and over again. Going downstairs to the cafe bar, walking three blocks to the City Tavern or picking up a bite at three-dozen-plus area eateries in a half-mile radius has kept me contained. And that is bothersome. Come on! I live in Dallas, now. That's kinda lame.

When I decide to venture out, there seems to be some pseudo-military logistics involved. Sure, there is something to be said for a central location. That's why most police departments are located centrally with satellite precincts...most located in Fair Park and Oak Cliff (I kid, I kid). But, responsibility has kicked in. If I know there is a potential to be bent out of shape with assistance from a few adult beverages, I call our driver (we have a cabbie that we have called over a dozen times so I consider that a driver). Oh, responsibility, what a buzzkill. Stakes are high if I were to do something stupid, but that's crushes some of the adventure with losing a share of freedom with safety (and some cash). Why does cool stuff have to be 4 miles from Main Street? That's kinda lame as well.

It's a paradox. There is tons of stuff to do here. There is a want to keep the car in the overpriced parking garage. That's where the lovely yin and yang of marriage comes in for the assist. The happy median (it's MEDIAN, not medium; why would anyone want a happy...wait, what?) is reached, with some help. Perfect example: since the weekend is the only logical time to venture out, The Lovely has gone on a data dump using Google, Black Book, Texas Monthly, Dallas Observer, neighbors and nervous but willing strangers to collect items for trekking. Last weekend was Louie's. It was absolutely worth it. Too bad I was so exhausted I slipped into a pizza coma. It's no wonder Elton John sang about Saturday Night(...'s Alright For Fighting") as opposed to "Going Out To Dinner On Sunday Night".

I had no idea work was beating me about the head and face so brutally that "The Danimal" has been marginalized to some small kitten until Friday evening...after my run, of course.

Lesson Learned, my three things.
1) Dallas loves the Cowboys and football so much that they are absolutely forgetting about the "charlie-foxtrot" inbound with All-Star Weekend...during Valentine's Day weekend. I had no idea Dallas had enough strip clubs to support this event? Yeah, charlie-foxtrot.
2) It never hurts to have a beer distributor as a buddy.
3) Be wary of business and branches that say they are the "Dallas branch" when in fact, they are located in Irving, Addison or Garland.
BONUS: HA! P.F. Chang's is opening in Kuwait City before they will be opened in Corpus. A former war zone is getting lettuce wraps before Corpus. Hilarious.

Wait a effin' minute? Did I just grow up right then and there? Oh, that's effin' awful. Next thing you know I will want to go to bed before 2300...wait, what? Talk later.

Sadly, I've become That Guy

Yeah, just leave me outside from here on out.

After two-plus weeks of processing the Citi National Championship Game, I have come to the conclusion that I can't "enjoy" a UT football game in public. No ifs, ands or buts about it. I cannot be out in public for the Longhorns anymore.

Back in 27°44′34″N 97°24′7″W, I would watch it with a bunch of hooligans that took over a venue for every kickoff. It's a conditioned response when viewing with unabated screams and trash talk for three years. So, when I view the same barbaric game in mixed company (fueled by Shiner Bock), it's a little different.

I wasn't very proud of myself, yelling at a television screen, spatting at the image of Nick Saban, and generally making people uncomfortable...more uncomfortable than Colt McCoy's shoulder. I backslid, but the slide was just my previous behavior, if that is an excuse.

In the spirit of getting yelled at by Colin Cowherd, I have turned into That Guy. This version of That Guy would be Guy-Not-To-Invite-To-Sporting-Events. I'm not special. I do not get secret privilege to lose my cool and change someone's good time to an irritating memory. I need to be a grown-up, not a slobbering frat boy. Besides, it's just football. I have no stake in the team (unless you count the tuition I am still paying from loans). So, I don't need to behave like an angry stakeholder.

Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with being passionate. But even passion has it's limits. The limit, of course, would be psychosis.

As I have defrosted, I'm waiting to see where Earl Thomas and Jordan Shipley land in the draft. And I will be electing to just stay at home for the 2010 (pronounced twenty-ten). And just like the 19 seniors on the team, I will be graduating from the public to private yelling at my own television, because I can creep myself out much better than scaring the straights.

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) I have turned The Lovely into a foodie. No, not that kind of foodie, the clean kind. With Charlie Palmer and Craft Dallas (with Local coming on Valentine's Day), I'm ashamed to even walk near the kitchen.
2) Everyone, we have this year's favorite acronym for the year, and we are only three weeks in: APT - Advanced Persistent Threat.
3) Happy Anniversary, The Lovely. Year Two doesn't sound as good as Year One, but I am positive is will be more fun.

I promise, this is not a sports blog. But, as far as the Longhorns and my house arrest, we are on a 223-day break. So, I will enjoy it. Gawd, why can't we just have a playoff? Talk later.

2009

It started innocently enough,
you told me I was made of sterner stuff.

I was in bad place and you seemed to shine light,
I reached out for it and held on tight.

But you promised me diamonds, gave me nothing but sand,
and I forgave you with the touch of your hand.

Every promise broken, a relationship of empty words,
a new ache my battered heart could ill afford.

Walking away is the lesson I never learn,
the more it fails, the more I yearn.

I tried to give you what you need,
but you burned me up like gasoline.

For me no more frogs, princes, or false love,
all that remains is strength from within and above.

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.