Veni, Vidi, Wiki (I came, I saw, I made up some shit…)

You may have heard by now that the Wikipedia folks are revving up their own search engine. I’m guessing the Seigenthaler family isn’t all that excited (was John Seigenthaler’s grand-dad REALLY John Wilkes Booth?), but rest assured that everyone will soon know who the coolest person residing on 5th Avenue whose name doesn’t start with a ‘K’…(sorry S-town…).

I can’t drive 55…

 

but I am happy* to be 55, as of today.

On the other hand, I may spend part of the day paying a traffic ticket for driving just slightly** over 55 on I-40 heading west when I was going to Jackson a while back.

*happy as opposed to the alternative

**just slightly if defined as 140% of the speed limit.

That’s soooo random..

 I got tagged by an East Tennessean..a guy I’d love to have a cuppa with..

1. Stealing a mantra from my friend S-townMike: It’s been 24 days since our esteemed* councilman Ludye Wallace promised to hold a neighborhood meeting to discuss zoning, etc. We’re not holding our collective breath.

2. Despite the promises by the attorney of the new owner of the Preds, I’m still very damn leery. I’d feel a lot better if the new owner actually spoke to us, or even made a local appearance.

3. Sopranos: the best family drama ever. Just happened to be about the mafia as well. I’m going to miss my Sopranos.

4. ‘Morning people’ roil my stomach. Luckily I’m married to a person who feels much the same way.

5. I’d miss Twitter if it was taken away.

6. My dad once told me that Timex watches tell you the time just as well as an expensive watch. I didn’t always listen to his advice, but he was usually right. My watches usually have the Timex logo.

7. Godspeed, Brittney. I’m going to miss your handiwork on NIT.

Oh yeah..I was tagged to mention 7 random things kinda about me by Joe Powell.

I’m tagging Lynnette , Kate O’, the soon to be vacationing, Bridgett, Wilco-loving Holly, her buddy (and mine), Emily, Paige, and the hopped-up-on-meds, Ginger.

*esteemed by the late-night poker-playing community.

They’ve been going in and out of style, but they’re guaranteed to raise a smile…(Beatles 4-ever)

Yesterday, on my weekly Saturday afternoon jaunt to Grimey’s, I was greeted by the familiar sounds from the ALBUM pictured below (you really do need the album on this one because of the a-freaking-mazing cover). Of course, considering it was Grimey’s, they were playing a Japanese import version. but all in all, the effect was terrifically transcendental.

(More below the art…)

Ok, I’m going to be boring. I was there. Really. Before the album was officially released, WKDA (rock and roll 1240 on yer AM dial) got a promo version that they played in its entirety at midnight on whatever day they received it. I was 15 years old and owned a cheap tape recorder. I stayed up and taped every song. Soon afterwards, my family went on one of our many trips to the Smokies (we camped in Elkmont every time), and that tape player became an important part of the trip.

My parents quickly tired of Sgt Pepper, while also quickly figuring out that drugs were involved (‘I get high with a little help from my friends’ is not exactly the ‘enigma’ code). I didn’t care if they wanted to toss the tape off the side of Mt. Laconte (where I had a close encounter with a brown bear, but that’s another story..), I literally listened to the tape until it fell apart (not kidding).

If you hear Sgt. Pepper today, you still hear some wonderful tunes, clever songs, and instrumentation that holds up for the most part rather nicely. What you don’t hear is the world changing note by note by note. Nothing the Beatles did beforehand, and nothing in the realm of pop music prepared any of us for Sgt. Pepper. Not just the multi-tracking, the orchestral swells, the animal noises, the not-so-veiled references to LSD, but the whole concept..the package, the derring-do. It was a giant in-your-face to every band in the world who thought they could capture the magic.

Sgt Pepper did beget a lot of flatulence from other so-called art bands following, and the Beatles actually recorded a better album  (Revolver), but if you were alive in 1967 and you heard ‘A Day in the Life’ pastiche for the first time (through the 1,000th time), you knew the tectonic plates had shifted. The limits changed overnight.

Thanks again to John, Paul, George and Ringo. Happy 40th, Sgt. Pepper. You DID teach the band to play…

Apparently my crystal ball was broken, or, I’m definitely a false prophet..

The Salem’s Lots Department of Accountability informs me that I need to come clean about some predictions I made a few weeks ago. It seems that I fearlessly predicted that Florida would NOT repeat as the NCAA Men’s basketball champions. D’oh!

On the other hand, I’m still sticking to my prediction that Michael Silence will mention Fred Thompson at least 12,500 times before next November.

Just as I am, or, waiting on that Fred Thompson altar call..

First of all, does James Dobson not have anybody in his organization that can take the man behind closed doors and testify:

ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR BONEY-ASS POWER-HUNGRY EAR-BLEEDING MONO-MANIACAL MIND?

I say that based on what I first picked up in Krumm-ville about Dobson claiming that Fred ‘Gasm’ Thompson isn’t a Christian in the particular Christian ghetto currently sheltering the ‘world leader pretend’. Apparently sycophants-r’-us supplies Mr. D with his aides-d-camp.

I kind of like old Fred. He’s an honest plain-spoken man who seems to be enjoying his flirtation with the elephant race that seems like it started about three minutes after the last election. Part of his appeal right now is that he is not the other guys and doesn’t have to stake out any positions or say much of anything other than dispensing judicial folk-medicine on a weekly basis on Law and Order.

All of that is to say I noticed something extremely interesting in the defense proffered by Thompson’s spokesman after Dobson’s dictum.

“Thompson is indeed a Christian,” he said. “He was baptized into the Church of Christ.”

Considering that I am a product of the church of Christ for lo, many many many years, I’ve got insight that all you non-saved heathens* might not understand.

Being baptized in the traditional church of Christ (I think things have changed in many C of C’s.) back in the day was one scary experience for most of us. The culmination of the experience was walking the aisle up to the front of the auditorium with everybody staring and then being immersed after donning a gown suitable for the occasion.

But, this was, as I said, the culmination. The C of C doesn’t believe in infant baptism. Nope…you gotta choose it yourself when you reach the mysterious ‘age of accountability**’. That magical age may be reached at age 9 for the really precocious bible -snappers or as late as age 16 for someone who really really didn’t like being pressured.

After you are deemed to have reached the age of accountability, the older women who gave you candy during the pre-accountible years are suddenly giving you ‘those looks’ during the invitation song that occurs after every freaking sermon. If you were unlucky enough to be trapped after the service by one of these drive-by biddies, you were implored to consider the consequences of not heeding the call***.

As the age of accountibility grew long in the tooth and the call went unanswered, the looks, the stares, the admonishments, and those horrid gospel meetings stretched endlessly until every waking church-related moment seemed to be a movie where the protagonist is trapped in one of those houses where the doors have been hermetically sealed and every creak is as ominous as a scream in the basement.

Needless to say, I caved. I did want to do the ‘right thing’, so I made a pact with several of my teenage-lifeboat crew..we’d all go down the aisle together. Luckily for me, a meteor did not tear into the roof of the church setting me and my fellow procrastinators ablaze before we made the necessary vow.

All of this is to say, that you get a LOT of attention BEFORE you make that committed walk down the aisle. Once you’ve made the leap, you get the smiles and the warmth, but you are no longer a point of focus. The church brigade now has other fish to de-bone.

I don’t know if it’s going to take the 15th verse of ‘Just as I Am’ for Fred to come strolling down the aisle, but I do know that if Fred’s C of C life was anything like mine, the pressure he is feeling now is certainly reminiscent of an earlier day.

You want to do what is right, but you just have to wonder if there’s not a better way to do it….you know what I mean?

One thing that Thompson’s spokesman may not realize is that the C of C doesn’t really believed in the ‘once saved, always saved’ doctrine. You can screw the pooch and drop out of the salvation bucket. Of course, you can always go forward again…but, I think we’ve already covered that one.

*uh, that would be some church of Christ sarcasm. There’s an old chestnut of a joke that when St. Peter is giving the tour of heaven to the newly inducted that he asks them to be quiet and tip-toe when they pass a certain room. When asked why, he explains that the room is for the church of Christ folks, and he doesn’t want to spoil their illusion that they are the only ones who made it.
I suspect that there is a similiar Southern Baptist joke.

**That may be a protected trademark phrase..not sure.. Sorry if I’ve infringed on anything.

***Not heeeding the call could possible mean perishing in an untimely fiery car wreck, the flames of which could be a foreshadowing of the heat to come. Or, God could choose to end the world while you were looking at that copy of Playboy you had stashed under your mattress and THEN where would you be??.

I used to hate being sick because..

well, number 1…being sick is not a whole lot of fun, especially when you are really really sick and having to spend time in the hospital.

Another obvious reason is that one is not feeling good enough to enjoy any good thing that may be passing you in the street of life, and then there’s the work thing.  I love my job.  When I go back there after missing a day or two (i’m up to two days now), it feels overwhelming…everyone is in the middle of some project or meeting that i should supposedly be up on, but now it just feels like one of those dreams where things keep happening and you just can’t ‘get there’.

On top of all this, is the blog thing.  The blog world revolves a couple of times around, and you miss a cycle or two, and whatinttheworld is everyone talking about.  I’d like to stay upright and read about it, but the world is starting to spin again and the stomach is making fun of my up-right-ness again.    I just hope I didn’t pass this on to anyone I can into contact with over the last 48 hours………later.

Nearly barefoot in Nashville, or really, where do they go..I mean really..

This one is really for the Home-Ec 101 women. This one has been the subject of every two-bit-brick-wall-lame comedian that has ever appeared on the comedy channel. Where do the socks go?

Some of this story may relate to the fact that my wife has been missing from the house for over a week (she knows where she is…). Not that she is supposed to be keeping up with my laundry, but the thing is..I’ve had more time on my hands than usual lately and I decided to take on the sock issue..

I normally do the laundry. Over the years, socks began disappearing during the laundry cycle at some indiscernible point. Tonight, while watching my basketball bracket begin to bleed (Texas A and M losing to Memphis), I decided to do a complete sock audit…gather em’ all up in one pile..launder them and attempt to sort them out. I now have 19 single socks that have no hope of a mate…kinda like singles night at the Battle Star Galactica clubhouse..

I can’t comprehend this. I don’t go places and take off my socks unless by some odd chance I’m actually within walking distance of an ocean, and even then, I don’t throw my socks into the waves. I don’t take my socks off at work, I don’t roll them off eating lunch at the arcade, I don’t slip them off for the walk home after work and I don’t toss them on the front lawn upon my arrival home. When I take them off I do what every red-blooded American does..I throw them on the floor. And then I put them in the laundry hamper (those last two actions aren’t necessarily linked closely by any space-time continuum). They always eventually get into the hamper. Eventually, I take the hamper downstairs to the laundry closet.

I don’t take the laundry out in the back, and I don’t take the laundry hamper for rides in my car. I dump the clothes into the washer. After the washing is done, the socks along with their clothing kin go into the dryer. After they are dried, they go into the laundry basket, where things are either folded or mated. There is no variation here, there is no alternative route.. Yet..socks continually disappear..not both socks in the pair..just ONE sock in the pair.

Yes, I realize that this is an age-old cliche and prosaic problem, but I remain buffaloed, befuddled, and bemused.

Yeah, I do have friends that pin their pairs of socks together before washing, but good gravy, washing is mundane enough without adding that chore before the chore. Is there any other trick, is there any other ploy?

I need hep.

signed, Somewhat sock-less in Nashville .

.

Bracketology

I’d just like to state for the record that I have an affidavit showing that I picked VCU over Duke in my men’s brackets. I was never worried (heh).

Unfortunately I fell for the Old Dominion hype and picked them to beat Butler. I also had some leftover admiration for Gonzaga and stupidly thought they’d hobble the Hooosiers (I apparently don’t have much loyalty for the state of my birth).

After one day, I’m 14-2. According to the standings on ESPN and Yahoo (where I have brackets), most of America is doing as well as I am, or better.

Update: Saturday morning. I really didn’t believe in the Ky Wildcats, but for some reason I did believe in the Ar-kansas Razorbacks…d’oh! I do believe West Coast b’ball is way over-rated (cept’ maybe UCLA and Oregon), but I apparently over-rated Ar-kansas late-season surge.

My pick-to-win Kansas is starting well, but my pick to go far, Oregon, barely squeaked by. It should be noted that Texas has amazing talent and a not-so-amazing coach. I’m 27-5 going into second round action.

Salems Lots: BANNED in CHINA

Life has little meaning for the 1.3 billion souls residing in China. According to THIS, I’m banned. So’s Slarti, Ginger, and Ceeelcee’s new baseball site. Apparently the culture club is wielded by humorless totalitarian paddy-wackers. Don’t they know that I, yes, I, was Time Magazine’s Person of the Year. Come on President Bush, tell them to tear that firewall DOWN!

ft: CliCkeD

Update: I call BS (whoops, more trouble in China for me).  Lindsey, one of my very favorite filthy feminist-types in the universe is ALLOWED by the dirty Mao-ists to be read by the women of China.  Considering the disfavor bestowed upon the female babies of that part of Asia, I’m surprised they’d let their surviving girls and women read such a blog!

Cleaning up the hutchmo way, or who the hell am i kidding..

People who know both Lynn and me know that neither one of us married a consummate house-cleaner or office cleaner. Looking slightly to my right (I guess your left) I can see three boxes of items that have yet to be unpacked from the move to our new house. I say ‘new house’ in relative terms, because our house is two and one half years old.

The subject arises because of the sudden plethora of housecleaning tips and sites springing up like so many irises. Is it spring, is it the extra sunlight that inspires us to mimic the earth’s renewal (or is it the extra sunlight that exposes some of the dirt and smootz that we couldn’t see during winter)?

Spring should propel us into the joys of March madness, blooms, baseball, renewal of ardor, as well as arbor, yet what do we have, we have HOUSE CLEANING. Yikes..

So, in the interest of going along to get along, I”m offering these timeless tips just to let you know that I too can contribute to the zeitgeist..

1) If you don’t do laundry it won’t do itself. Eventually you’ll run out of decent underwear and you’ll be forced to wear sacred, that is to say, holey strips of cloth that your mother told you never to wear in case of a wreck.

2) If you buy bargain paper towels (my tool of choice) with cutesy pithy saying such as (and I quote):

It’s the simple joys,

the simple pleasures,

The heart remembers

and dearly treasures.

You will NOT be on the receiving end of bargain-land. In fact, it takes about eight of these wastes of trees to do the job of one bounteous, thick quickerpickerupper, if you know what I mean (and you won’t get sick from reading toxic-ly bad ‘poetry’ written by the modern day Joyce Kilmers of this world)..

Heed my warning. That’s about it for me. I’m out of tips. I just so wanted to be part of the crowd…

Update: ooh, ooh, ooh…I thought of two more:

3.  Never ever mistake bleach for fabric softener.  Especially when your entire family wash is intermingled.   Oh, the looks you get (or at least so I’ve heard…)

4. Recycling is a lot more fun when you intersperse a few of those pesky bills in with all that other paper.

That’s it..really.

Stress points, or, it’s what’s being served in the blog-a-teria

Seems there is a whole lotta stress shakin’ going on if a few key blogs can be considered barometers. I once read an article somewhere about how you can assign stress points to events such as weddings, divorces, job change, job loss, moving, empty nesting, new baby, etc.

The article assigned a set amount of points to each event, with the idea that a certain total ought to lead to counseling or therapeutic treatment, with another threshold leading to brain-shredding explosiveness.

I’m not explosive yet, but this last week has been something else. My work group has been moved to new confines. Moving on any level sucks rocks. The move is just a matter of incremental steps and will be over at a finite point in the near future. A much more stressful piece of news is the fact that our work group is being reorganized and placed under different supervision*. I love my supervisor. I love my current bureau. I can’t state that fact any other way.

Other events that I’m going to no longer discuss except under threat of gun-play have certainly contributed to said stress.

Today, Lynn and I returned to East End United Methodist. For many years the idea of ‘church’ was anathema, a cauldron of boring stew, with renewable guilt. I think people need community and accountability and forgiveness and safe havens. That’s what church SHOULD be…

Today, a few simple words in a confessional prayer pierced me deeply,

‘we know that change happens every day, but we don’t like changes in traffic patterns or in the church or in what feels comfortable’.

As Grandmaster Flash once said…Here’s a MESSAGE for you. Transformation is part of the deal, and you can accept it, reject it or ignore it. I’m 54 and I really really don’t like changes that effect me personally and consequentially. I’m Newton’s law personified. I like changes in the weather, changes in music, changes in transportation, but I want to live in my own damn comfort zone, thank you very much.

Here’s a few other things I don’t particularly care for:

Your will be done. Turn the other cheek. Love your enemy.

Right now, I’m really wanting to ignore those principles totally. Right now, I need to listen to Sam Cooke, open my heart and accept that not only a change is going to come, but I’ll be all the better for that change.

But, sweet fancy Moses…I don’t have to enjoy it..

*I love my job. I’m not complaining about my job. I’m not overworked, but I have lots to do and I love that.

My response to the Rep..approximately

I wrote a comment on Representative Campfield’s post and I didn’t copy the comment before I hit the enter key.   Since the Rep’s comments are ‘moderated’, I wasn’t able to retrieve the exact wording for this post.

Background and clarification: When a bill is proposed by the state legislature, state employees in effected departments have to do bill assessments including fiscal notes that detail the financial and ‘work’ impact of the proposed legislation.  Bill assessment is a necessary and important business practice.  I do NOT generally do bill assessments. I did NOT do any assessment of the ‘abortion death certificate’ bill proposed by Representative Campfield. I did not discuss the bill assessment with anyone who WORKED on the assessment.  I would not work on (or discuss with co-workers) any assessment where I could not assess the bill objectively.  Any other stance would be unethical.

Representative Campfield took issue with an earlier post I made about wasting state employee time with what I would term ‘stunt’ or ‘publicity’ bills.  No where in my post did I say or intimate that I or any other health department was overworked.  No where in my post did I complain about my job.

In fact, as I stated in the post, I love my job.  I have a lot to do and that is a good thing.  It makes my time on the job meaningful.  I believe deeply in the mission and purpose of the state Health Department.

Representative Campfield intimated that I (it should be noted that my name was not used in the post, but considering that I was the only state employee who posted on the topic that I know about, I’m pretty sure that shot was directed at me) blogged on the job, was unethical and that I spent long hours surfing the internet instead of doing my job, including making comments on posts during working hours.

Lastly, he insulted all state employees by asking if I thought I could get away with such practices if I had ‘a real job’.

My response, approximately:

1. I love my job.  It is a REAL job.

2. I have NEVER complained about being overworked. To have a job with the Health Department is a privilege. I work with wonderful people and I believe strongly in the work that we do.

3. I do my blogging early in the morning and late in the evening from home.  I have, in the past, blogged during my lunch hour, but I decided that the time spent and the appearance of a post in the middle of the day might be misconstrued, so I no longer post during my lunch hour.

4. I do not spend long hours at work surfing the internet.  I do my job.

5. I would never do a bill assessment on any bill where I could not be dispassionate and objective.  I was not assigned any work on Representative Campfield’s ‘abortion death certificate’ bill.  I did not DO any work on the assessment of that bill.

6. I am rarely assigned to do bill assessments.  My post was about the time spent by others doing bill assessments (I should have made that clearer on my original post).  No one complained to me about their time spent doing specific bill assessments.

7. I have commented on posts during my lunch hour or during a break. My lunch time is my own time, but as stated above, I no longer post during lunch, and will now no longer comment during lunch.

8.  I think I am due an apology, but I’m not holding my breath.

Finally, I need to say one more time: My posts on this subject were from the point of view of ME.  I certainly was not speaking for the Health Department or any governmental perspective.  I would not deign to speak for the Health Department on such an issue.  I probably should not have made the post to begin with, but I stand by my thoughts on the subject.

Here’s one for all you folks who want to cut out waste in government

I don’t blog much about my job. Not because I don’t like the job. I love it. But, sometimes people get in trouble and accidentally say things that are misunderstood or they post things that rebound back to the job…well you know that drill. Despite the potential pitfalls, here I go…

I work for the state Department of Health here in Nashville. I work largely with the software that runs in the state health department clinics across the state. I am one of those administrative types…some would say bureaucrat, but I’d argue that point.

Anyway, my ‘customers’ are program managers who need data to make good decisions about their budgets. My customers are doctors, nurses, and clerks in clinics – front line providers. My customer is the system administrator in regional health offices who needs help with data extraction or who reports a problem in the software. I’ve got LOTS of customers.

My point is this: I’ve got plenty to do. My job is NEVER boring. I love those two facts. I work with a lot of other people with that exact same attitude. We want the people of Tennessee who come to ‘our’ clinics to get the best, most efficient, most informed service they can possibly receive*. That is OUR job.

Why am I going on about this?? Think about Stacy Campfield’s abortion death certificate bill. Or peruse another bill you probably haven’t heard about because it is so stupid:

Make everyone who wants service from Tenncare take a drug test.…oh, you have TB…oh, you need prenatal care..sorry, you can’t have it..you smoked a JOINT.

Here’s something else you probably don’t know: For every bill that is introduced in the House or Senate, somebody somewhere in a department or departments has to do a fiscal note on that bill and assess what the impact of the bill will be on their department. Our budget and our staff are impacted directly by these bills.

When Campfield makes his political and ‘manly’ point, someone or someoneS in MY department have to spend a LOT of time outlining what the impact of the bill would be for our customers, for our budget and how it dovetails (or does not dovetail) with federal law (for what it’s worth there are enough HIPAA issues to choke a horse re the Campfield bill). We can’t just stamp: STUPID AS HELL on the assessment. We can’t write in bold print ‘You’ve GOT TO BE KIDDING’ on a bill that would require drug testing for people who need medical care**. We sometimes have to spend hours assessing the cost and human impact of a bill, not to mention attempting to collate the bill with existing law.

Yeah, assessment of any bill is necessary. Good management requires evaluation and an accurate fiscal note. The folks who have to spend their time on these assessments have plenty to do in addition to assessing the serious bills. .Asking these folks to evaluate ‘frivolity’ is a waste…

Put that in your fiscal pipe and smoke it…

*I’m aware that patients in health department clinics don’t always get the speediest service. Trust me, we spend a lot of time trying to make ‘your’ wait time decrease.

**Disclaimer..please read: THIS IS MY OPINION. I am speaking as a private blogger, not for the Department of Health.

Dear B-Dub, or, not beating around the bush on the English bill

Brandon – I wouldn’t put this on my blog if I could comment on your latest post. I don’t expect you (or anyone) to read my blog or any blog for that matter. However, when you berate and excoriate bloggers by asking ‘Did a single Nashville blogger do a damn thing about this?”, I have to respond, by saying you might want to read the blogs before you fling the shit (I did read your caveat that you didn’t have time to read blogs 24/7). Also, some of us don’t actually blog about EVERYTHING we do or eat (it just seems that way).

I not only attended council meetings on this topic, I wrote city council persons I perceived to be ‘on the fence’ on this issue, and I even phoned a few. I discussed this issue with David Briley at the bloggers Christmas party and asked him what else needed to be done to stop this bill. I wrote about the issue as it was coming up, when it came up for first reading and I wrote about attending the council meeting. Once again, I’m not expecting you to go back to read all that or that you should have read it to begin with. I’m not the only blogger who has opined or pined on this issue from the beginning. My neighbor and friend, S-townMike has been ‘there’ the entire time.

My point is not entirely solipsitic here. You say,

As far as I can see, no one did anything except write about this great injustice AFTER THE FACT. That is why I refer to the group collectively as “typical heavy breathing, loud mouth, blow hards”.

My point is a great majority of America is pissed off at one thing or another, but when it comes down to making an effort they are just too damn lazy to act.

My real point is..you might want to look a little further. And to the other bloggers posting after the fact…welcome to the party.

One of the main principles of blog-land is that everyone can say whatever they want to on their own blog. You can insult me or anyone else all you want to and then sweeten the insult by claiming respect for your fellow man, but when all is said and done, it’s pretty hard to see the true issue when dodging the insult bullets.   Disagreement doesn’t have to mean disrespect.

Like I said earlier, I would have posted this on your blog, but you decided to not allow commentary on the post in question.

I hope this can be heard over my loud-mouthed, heavy breathing.

PS. If I really thought there was a clamor in any non-English speaking community to read my blog, I’d be happy to translate the thing, but puhleeze…

One more note about moving to WordPress..

If any of you are considering the jump but haven’t done so…

This past weekend either at Sarcastro’s soiree or around coffee/beer afterwards, we were talking about Blogger and WordPress (yes, we wave our geek flags high) and I was talking about how happy I was with WordPress and how helpful the Lynnster was in that process.

Lynnster exclaimed (before she realized what this was going to sound like)..’if John can do it, ANYBODY can do it’. Everyone, including me, laughed. So you see, when the Wizard of WordPress tells you that even an idjit like me can do it, then I find it hard to believe that anyone would have great difficulty in negotiating the world of WP.

On a slightly different note, but sticking with my basic moronality, I recorded (DVR’d?) Friday Night Lights last week because Vandy was on TV playing Florida at that time. I do have my priorities (go ‘Dores!).

Lynn also enjoys FNL, so I told her that we could watch it when I came home from work on Wednesday night. We ate some dinner, got cozy, turned on the TV and pulled up the recording of ‘Friday Night Lights’ and instead of hitting the ‘play’ button on the remote, I neatly and cleanly deleted the show…damn. In the words of Yosemite Sam…whatta maroooon!.

I tell that on myself to underline the wisdom of the Lynnster’s words…

The bridge to WordPress, or, feed me, feed me, feed YOU

I’ve been on WordPress now for a little over a week. I’m loving it. When I went back over to the dark side aka Blogger to add comment filtering (I’m getting spammed like crazy over there now), I was told that I had to move my blog to the ‘New’ Blogger. They can, in the immortal words of Bart Simpson, ‘eat my shorts’.

On the other hand, WordPress blocks spam (somehow!) without resorting to comment verification. I’m more impressed with this operation each day. So, Spammers, if you want to flog your stock tips, Ethiopian bank scams, penile enlargement proposals, breast enhancement pills, Viagra price-busting opportunities, Colorado mining schemes, and real estate opportunities, spam away on the old Blogger site. Unlike Lot’s salty wife, I’m not looking back.

Thanks once again to the Moses of WordPress, Lynnster. She is leading the masses into the promised land from the blogging Pharoahs of Google. Unlike Moses 1.0, she already is IN the Promised land and is reaching back into captivity pulling the brothers and sisters into safety.

Finally, for those of you interested (do you want a cool stock tip or tips on larger ‘tips?) in the Salem’s Lots feed, there are now a buncha feed widgits over on the right column down a bit. I’ve got a feedburner thing going. It surprises me often that anybody reads this stuff, but I appreciate anybody who takes the time, and I totally appreciate the Lynnster for taking her time in helping me out with all this. She was very patient on the phone with me walking me through the transition (and finally telling me to get off the phone, go away for awhile, and come back and it all would be working (I did, it was). I don’t blame the Lynnster for wanting to get off the phone considering my questions and comments were somewhat on the level of ‘tell me about the rabbits Lynny, tell me about the garden again..tell me about the rabbits’.

Thanks again Lynnster.

Thanks to WordPress, I’m home.

Some pretty half-baked but mostly sincere resolutions for 2007

I quit making hard-to-keep resolutions many years ago because after a certain amount of time on this mortal coil, there are certain things that just aren’t going to happen (getting up early and doing anything more athletic than opening the newspaper and making coffee). In the interest of reality and in full cognizance of my 54 years on this planet AND being alert to the fact that I”ve had stomach/ulcer issues, I am going to kinda try to:

listen to the doctor(s) and drink a higher ratio of decaf to caffeinated (blecch)

actually use my bicycle for something more than a fixture to hold non-bicycle-related things

switch from this stupid blogger to WordPress (if they continue to have a ‘free’ version)

NOT switch to Blogger ‘Beta’ unless they pull Blogger ‘alpha’ from my ‘qwerty’ gnarled fingers

meet Emily (Malia’s sister)

purchase a Predator’s clothing item that will not be obsolete if a trade is made

walk the dogs regularly (I’ve been on the road a lot lately and gotten out of the normal patterns)

Quit reading blogs/articles/magazines that tell me that liberals/progressives/black people/white people/conservatives are all ‘anything’ or all believe ‘one thing’ because if i continue reading my doctor who told me to avoid stress will get on my back

Continue to explore who my ‘neighbor’ really is, and treat them the way I would want to be treated

Continue to not care what Britney*/Paris/TomKat/Rosie/Donald/Nicole say or do

Try not to commit blogorrhea

Go back to Memphis and have dinner with Lynnster and listen to her talk about music instead of me blathering on as if I had just been given the power of speech after an absence of two years

Meet a blogger east of Nashville

Try and notch down my irascible meter

Attend a Grascals concert

Let people know when they’ve done something that is wonderful/generous/graceful even if I’m not involved or the recepient

Observe the difference between ‘your’ and you’re’. Just because the Tennessean doesn’t get it, doesn’t mean that I can screw this up.

Continue to read conservative blogs/journals that challenge me instead of belittling my ‘kind’

Try to think of a trip to the 8th Avenue Kroger as an episode of Seinfeld, one in which I’m lucky enough to have a role

More brunches with my friends (love that Alleycats..)

Work to make our neighborhood association (Salemtown Neighbors) more inclusive of ALL of Salemtown

Visit the Frist more often

Tell my family what they mean to me, not just assume they know

Forgiveness, forgiveness.

Walk on every greenway in Nashville at least once (my favorite is the Richland Creek segment)

Meet bloggers whenever I have the opportunity.

Grace.

Continue to explore the Story.

*This is Britney Spears I don’t care for or about. I care very much about Brittney Gilbert who is much responsible for the blogging community here in Nashville.

I’ve been most everywhere man, except any foreign countries other than Canada or Mexico

Thanks to Chez Bez via Lynnster…

create your own personalized map of the USA

I seem to be avoiding some of the ‘cold’ ones. I resolve someday to ‘GET’ those other states!

Festivus for the rest of us, or, my name may be Earl…

Ok, this is a purgitive hoping to release the bad mojo I seem to have accumulated. This second stupid winter cold (sorry, Sarcastro) is bringing me down, so I will not be able to perform the traditional feats of strength. That leaves us with the airing of the grievances:

1) damn cars. You finish paying for them, and guess what. They *)*^^ die on you.
2) Damn car payments for the ‘new’ car you had to buy because (see item 1)
3) Damn my Gateway work computer. I’ve griped about this before, but I remain underwhelmed
4) screw the people that stole our wind chimes. They were folk art from Mentone. They weren’t worth much but I loved those stupid chimes.
5) I’m no longer upset about the fact that my doctor almost killed me during a routine biopsy (i’ve written too much about this before), but I do get disturbed when I see the bills
6) I’m an idiot for not backing up the files on Item #3 above because the crack Help Desk squad had to re-image my stupid computer and manage to ‘lose’ about 30 key folders and all of my AS/400 macros (don’t ask)
7) For all the people who don’t understand what YIELD means when they see that sign on the southern Metrocenter off-ramp, I’m running out of patience. You’ll some day get your ass yielded right back to ya
8) For all the people who don’t know how to count or don’t care to count at the 15 items or less line at my neighborhood Kroger, I hope you need something fast from the DMV.

That’s enough…i feel better now. Happy New Years to each and every one of you (except for a few of the folks involved in items 1-8 above).