Telephone line, give me some time, I'm living in twilight

Why I hate the telephone.
I hate the telephone because people who should know better drop whatever they are doing to answer it. I'm not talking about when you're sitting on the sofa watching Wheel of Fortune reruns and the phone rings to tell you your great aunt Millie just kicked the bucket. If your not really doing something else, sure by all means pick that baby up and get the 411.
What I'm really talking about is customer service situations. Wait, wait...don't stop reading yet. I'm not going to bore you with another sad tale of lame telephone support from Dell (sorry Dell, don't mean to single you out, but I do hear a lot of bad ones about you).
This is more about customer service inside stores and restaurants.
I've had this happen to me twice within less than twenty four hours: I walk into the restaurant, wait my turn, begin to give my order, the phone rings and the cashier interrupts me to answer the phone and proceeds to engage the other party in an entire conversation. Guess what...both times the cashier forgot what they were doing with me and I had to start completely over.
The first instance was the most egregious. I started to give my order but was interrupted before I could open my mouth. Nearly acceptable, except this is a little like someone cutting in front of you at the water fountain in elementary school. You know how mad that made you then. After about a three minute wait, I proceed and get half way through my order and the phone rings again. About three minutes later, the cashiers back (after placing the phone orders ahead of mine), but she's forgotten everything about my transaction. Now she forces me to play Mad Libs with my order ("You want a adjective name of potable fluid to drink?")
This time I get satisfaction though, as I say "I guess we've had time to think about it and decided not to eat here." And with that we left.
The second time was just a few hours ago. Once again, I'm inflicted with orderus interruptus by someone apparently lost and searching for the restaurant. And, again, the cashier suffers amnesia about what she was doing two seconds before the phone rang. I should have walked out that time also, but I'm trying to be a more patient and understanding person in general.
Now, don't get me wrong with this...this is not the fault of the person on the other end trying to get help themselves. I've been from one side of this country to the other and most people respect societal "rules" when they are aware of them. This is a customer service breakdown.
Restaurant owners and managers, take note: It is stupid to put a phone with your main line from the outside beside the cash register, unless your going to train your employees in proper customer relations etiquette. And what would that be? Simple..."XXX Restaurant, hold please". Finish waiting on the people with cash standing right in front of you...then take the call.

Peace out (even to Ma Bell),
HBH

Uncomfortably Numb

It is frustrating and embarrasing living in the United States of America and having to read about events like this in the foreign press:
Marines 'to face charges over the Haditha massacre'
If you don't want to click the link here's the gist of it: One marine was killed in November in Haditha, apparently as retribution, a bunch of others went and killed a bunch of civilians (around twenty four) including women and children. Then the marines tried to cover it up under the auspices of a "bus explosion" and a "firefight". There was no bus explosion and apparently some of the dead civilians were either in bed or praying when they were shot.
I'm just kind of numbed by reading about this.
I can remember a time when newspapers and news agencies wanted to scoop the competition, sometimes breaking stories before all the details were known, sometimes even getting material information wrong. The point is they wanted to report the news. They took pride in informing the public. Now they have become a laughable shill for corporate looters who have bought the best politicians they could for the money and damn well expect a decent return on investment.
Now that this political train is derailing, how much longer will we have to rely on foreign news sources to monitor our own government? I'm reminded of the situation with the news agency Pravda (russian for "truth") in the Soviet Union. What couldn't be sugar-coated was swept under the rug. Sound familiar?
Will this become the galvanizing event that My Lai was in Vietnam?

What experience and history teach is this -- that people and governments never have learned anything from history, or acted on principles.
-- Hegel

Peace out...because, folks, that's the only chance any of us has
-HBH

See You on the Other Sunny Side of the Mountain

Wow! You can find just about anything on eBay...check out this long lost Osbourne Brothers reunion album I just picked for on $37.80 plus shipping (must have been one of those expensive import albums or something):

Hardy har har. Bet I had a few of you there for a minute!

Peace out,
HBH

Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name

This guy looks kind of familiar... where exactly did you say he worked before you picked him to head the CIA, Mr. President?

General Michael Hayden

Oh yeah, sir! I remember him from that crazy puppet show in the 80's also!

a.ka. Dr. Bunsen Honeydew

Yo Ho Yo Ho, A Pirate's Life For Me

Some days, I wish I had chosen "pirate" as a career choice.
Not some namby pamby Johnny Depp-esque kind, but a badass, eye-gouging, grog-swilling, pillage, plunder, and rape kind of pirate. The hours probably sucked. Your medical coverage was pretty much limited to amputation or eye-patch and you didn't get any dental, but the pay probably wasn't too bad. Plus, you could pretty much wear whatever you wanted to work.
I guess nuclear power, long range radar, and cruise missiles have kind of put the kabosh on that career field though. Too bad. Some days, hacking at someone with a cutlass sure sounds more appealing than reading email.

Arrrr, Matey...Peace out
-HBH

Give Peace A Chance

I've noticed something very curious recently. My dreams seem to be reflecting my inner anxiety which I all but erased from my waking conciousness.
It's really kind of bizarre. I know I should be worried about something, but within the last couple of years I have, in all seriousness, been able to put it aside and "stay in the moment". But over the last week or so, I've had these dreams which are all so obviously reflecting the anxiety that for the most part, I've been able to deflect while awake.
I've considered the possiblity that I've just been deluding myself, but other people know how I am. I took damage from my old boss because I just never got worked up about anything. I asked him though, did he think he could count on me in a pinch, and he said "yes, probably more than anyone else", because I never lost it and could stay cool under fire.
But now with these haunting dreams, I'm not so sure that the water is rolling off my back like I thought it was.
Up until now, being a neo-hippy was all pretty easy for me...maybe this is a test of character?

Peace out,
-HBH

The Grand Illusion

I know some of you guys like your philosophy like day old french bread: old, hard and crusty.
I've studied a few of those fellows also. I like to dabble out of the mainstream occasionally though. I particularly like those who occasionally rhyme their words and/or set them to music. The philosopher featured today is Dennis DeYoung, formerly of the band Styx.
In case you've never heard the song below, it happens to have a really cool synth part which adds a particularly carnival like atmosphere to the song. The meaning is pretty obvious from the lyrics. I find that reading the words without the distraction of the music can lead me to a whole new level of appreciation for a well written song.

The Grand Illusion

Welcome to the grand illusion
Come on in and see what’s happening
Pay the price, get your tickets for the show
The stage is set, the band starts playing
Suddenly your heart is pounding
Wishing secretly you were a star.

But don’t be fooled by the radio
The tv or the magazines
They show you photographs of how your life should be
But they’re just someone else’s fantasy
So if you think your life is complete confusion
Because you never win the game
Just remember that it’s a grand illusion
And deep inside we’re all the same.
We’re all the same...

So if you think your life is complete confusion
Because your neighbors got it made
Just remember that it’s a grand illusion
And deep inside we’re all the same.
We’re all the same...

America spells competition, join us in our blind ambition
Get yourself a brand new motor car
Someday soon we’ll stop to ponder what on earth’s this spell we’re under
We made the grade and still we wonder who the hell we are

Dennis DeYoung

Confessions of a Nerd

My network broke today. Actually, it didn't really break. I broke it. It was a good network. Five drops of 100 mbps in one room, four drops of 100 mbps in another, with 802.11b (11 mbps wireless) connection.
I was rather proud of the wireless link. It didn't have quite enough "ummph" to connect computers in the upstairs, so I made my own parabolic booster antenna out of some cardboard, tinfoil, and scotch tape. That worked pretty good. Except for online games. Every so often if you shifted yourself around just the right way on the upstairs computer...the network would drop out. Not a big deal if you're web browsing, but it really put a pinch on Java-based games. I farted around adjusting the wireless antenna on the computer upstairs. For quite a while it was tolerable...to me anyways...mainly because I don't play a lot of Java-based games on the upstairs computer.
But problems were festering elsewhere. The second room downstairs (the one with the wireless connection and uber-cool arts-and-crafts antenna) had more than enough extra connections. The only thing hooked to that segment was the above-mentioned wireless drop and the Sony PS2. The problem was lurking in my downstairs home-office, first room; the engineering center of my house; the network-nexus if you will. Time crept by and more and more crap got plugged into the once copious five 100 meg drops. Until several weeks ago when they all got filled. This really wouldn't have been a problem if I could have just kept the kabash on my imperialistic computer tendencies.
An innocuous looking Dell and a half-hearted promise to fix it finally broke the proverbial camel's proverbial back. I actually resisted taking the Dell downstairs for over a week, knowing that to do so would be to force my acknowledgement of my network inadequacies. Someone finally found it upstairs though, lurking behind the Lazy Boy (immediately and fittingly giving away the fact that I was the guilty party that had stashed it there).
So there it sat in my computer room...naked, unattached, dark. My first instinct was to see how much stuff could be piled on top, providing addtional surface area for me, and again hiding it from my ego (my id would have kicked its sides in and thrown its mangled carcass into a brush pile). Ego, guilt, and secondary pressure forced me to acknowledge it this afternoon however.
Side note about secondary pressure: I guess it makes it hard for people to communicate when person B promises person A, that person C will get person D to deliver some good or service (computer repair for an abstract example). Person B probably tries to avoid person A while trying to contact person C, who is simultaneously attempting to avoid by B. Person D should have known better than to agree to deliver just on the princple of avoiding causing such a tangled web of deceit. Never-the-less D has made a promise and a promise is a promise.
Everything was going swimmingly with the wounded Dell until the bane of every consciencious computer nerd aroused its evil head...software updates. If I asked you "What are the top 5 reasons that most people upgrade to broadband connections?", you might be tempted to say "Number one: Software updates". You'd be wrong though. Probably the top four would be porn, but I'll bet software updates would come in at a solid number five. So, the wounded Dell was finally repaired and among the living again, purring like a silicon-based, 120 volt, 350 amp kitten when realization of the long forgotten network shortage struck.
So, I went through the five stages of grief (rather quickly, mind you, as it really wasn't all that traumatic in retrospect). I was kind of in denial all along, as I wanted to deny that I even had to fix the damn computer, although I'm not sure if that counts or not. Then I got angry. "Why do I have to have so much &^@#ing crap in one room?!?". Bargaining "Maybe I could unplug some of my own junk?". I probably should have just stopped there and realized that sometimes you really can get a good bargain. But nooo ...I had to go on to depression. "I'm just so sad that my network is so pathetic, whatever shall I do?". Finally, acceptance. "This network must be upgraded if I'm to finish fixing this computer and face my wife again" (person C in the above scenario as well as discoverer and mover of Dell cleverly stashed behind reclining chair).
A few trips into the junk closet (for an ancient router and a recently purchased yet neglected 802.11g access point, as well as various and sundry network switches) , a few trips to Best Buy (for replacement of ancient router that was apparently manufactured in ancient Mesopotamia for internal intercommunication in the Tower of Babel, and a new 802.11g USB adapter), and more than a few trips up and down the stairs (for final configuration of HouseNet v2.0) and the deed was done.
Now I've got 802.11g (54 mbps) wireless network (still using my handy cereal box inspired booster antenna; kind of like Martha Stewart meets MacGuyver), and four 100 mbs network drops (one for the PS2 and three for network devices to be named later) in the second downstairs room; 54 meg wireless networking to the upstairs (and is it ever working dandy), and nine 100 meg connections in my computer room/home office/neighborhood kids' Guild Wars festhall (another rant for another time).
Oh yeah...the Dell. Plugged it in; four hours and a multitude of mindnumbing mouse clicks later and it was finally finished, finito, a work of perfection.
And what was a computer nerd to do while waiting for service packs to download and patches to be patch-ed ad nauseum, nigh ad infinitum. I went on eBay and bought me a print server. I have always wanted to decouple my printer from my main system. I'm pretty sure my computer will run at least 2% faster (yeah, keep telling yourself that!) Plus now I've got all those new, virgin network ports to be filled. I'm starting to feel a little giddy just thinking about it....

-HBH

Don't stand, don't stand, don't stand so close to me

I've often wondered how often our president is faced with the scathing truth of how a majority of Americans feel about his procedures and policies.
For better or worse (better in my opinion), Stephen Colbert put it in his face at the White House Press Correspondence Dinner on April 29th, 2006.
The whole video (little over 25 minutes) can be viewed here (from Google Video):
Colbert Roasts Bush
It is interesting to watch how the entire mood changes around 8 minutes 45 seconds into the video. Colbert starts talking about disasters and photo ops. Watch for Bush's reaction shot at 9 minutes and 15 seconds.
I'm not sure who booked Colbert to wrap up the Press Correspondence Dinner, but maybe they didn't realize that his humorous support of Bush is actually critical satire. Reminds me of Reagan wanting to use John Mellencamp's "Pink Houses" for his second term campaign.

-HBH

Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This

I was living in Pumpkin Holler, but it wasn't the Pumpkin Holler that I know. I was living in Pumpkin Holler of the late 19th century. As I walked down the street, it changed from what I know it looks like to what it looked like in the late 1800s or there about. Streets moved from their present locations to where they were then as I observed them. New houses and buildings disappeared to be replaced by trees, old houses, or other objects that existed then. Finally I arrived at my destination. I'm not sure of what the building was called, but I suspect it was similar to "Pumpkin Holler County Convention Center". Strangely enough, time had progressed. It was now the late 1950 or perhaps the early 1960s. The interior was dark and smoky. Just inside the entrace was a bar/restaurant that seemed quite busy. The barstools had long, wooden legs. The leather seats had brass or copper rivets. The low pile carpet was old and slightly sticky from accumulated spills and neglect. Ashtrays dotted the the length of the bar. I walked along through the restaurant until I came to the main hall of the center. The doors opened and I entered the long corridor. The walls were light blue and the heating and plumbing pipes along the ceiling were all painted the same. The paint seemed new and fresh. I immediately remembered having visited this place many times as a child. I knew every turn and where all the doors led. The sounds of people holding meetings came from behind some doors. I was a little sad because this place seemed so vibrant, so alive, yet I knew that it had been torn down at some point in the future. People stopped going there. It was no longer relevant. Yet here it was in all its glory. The hall seemed much longer than I remembered. Perhaps because as a child I had run through it, making the yards seem like feet. Finally, I reached the end. I tried to open the main doors, but couldn't. I could see the handles but they weren't really there. Something within me told me why...I had reached the end of the virtual simulation. What lie beyond had not yet been modeled. Maybe because no one remembered exactly what it looked and felt like. Maybe because no one cared. I walked back down the hall. Somewhat confused, somewhat curious. Why had someone bothered to create such an elaborate hoax? Why had they chosen this particular era to model and why this particular building? I proceded back out through the restaurant, back through the bar. I stepped out of the building and awoke. I felt a little happy about remembering that building, and felt a little sad that it had to be torn down, not because something new was to replace it, just because it was no longer important. That's when it hit me. The building I had remembered so fondly had never actually existed at all.

-HBH