a moblog, just because I haven't lately...

So here I am again, having a beer and noodling away on the Blackberry, probably looking like an utter clown. Oh, well. I'm just getting over a cold, so I'm not too concerned about cutting a suave figure just now. Actually I pretty much never care about that, being a programmer and all.

If you haven't yet experienced the cold that's going around, you're in for a real treat. I was so loopy on Tuesday that I got on the wrong bus and didn't notice for six blocks. It was a C-Tran bus, and the color scheme inside was all different, and I didn't clue in until I noticed the "Now Hiring C-Tran Drivers" poster. Feh.

So I spent yesterday at home, perfecting my hot toddy skillz. And answering work email. The combination worked better than you might expect. I also managed to crank out a new SNR post. If anything, those have become even more rare than new posts here.

The recent scarcity of posts here doesn't mean I've scaled back writing. I merely haven't been *posting*. I actually have a backlog of unfinished posts I need to deal with somehow. Once you have a couple of drafts sitting there, it starts to weigh on you a little. It's a sign you've raised the bar a bit high, and maybe it's time for a couple of light, fluffy, research-free posts, just to get back in the habit. Hence this post, and the previous one about flowers, and the one before that about my hit counter (which incidentally ought to be hitting 66,666 real soon now).

So before I make this into a big deal (or my already low battery dies) I think I'll wrap this up, finish my Chernobyl, and go take some photos.




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"are you a blogger?"

So I'm sitting here having a beer, as I often do, and I decide to take a couple of photos, as I often do.

Pretty soon someone walks up and asks me if I'm a blogger. Is it really *that* obvious? I mean, I am and all, and it's a bit late to act all embarrassed about it. I suppose taking photos of beer *is* kind of a giveaway, isn't it?

It doesn't really help matters that this humble blog has a rather dumb name that isn't easily explained, and my nym is at least as dumb and even harder to explain. And it's not as if I can give a one-sentence summary of what the blog is about, either. "Photoblog" sort of fits, I guess, but that seems so limiting.

So that's probably part of why my immediate reaction was to blush and stammer. That, along with not being the world's biggest extrovert in any circimstances. But somewhere along the line I also absorbed the attitude that blogging is somehow disreputable, which is kind of a counterproductive attitude to take under the circumstances. I probably picked that up from the Old Media or something, as much as I try to ignore those clowns.

So yes, I am a blogger. It's true, for good or ill. Right after the aforementioned conversation, I thought, hey, do a moblog post about it. Haven't done one of those in a while. And those beer photos will appear once I get back to the mothership.


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So I semi-promised I'd post while I'm on this mini-roadtrip. And I haven't until just now, but I have a good excuse. Seems that mobile phone service in the remote desert is um, incomplete. I knew that already, of course, but each time I got the notion to post there was no service to be had. The only really useful thing about moblogging is to describe what you're doing right this minute. Moblogging from the hotel to say what you did earlier in the day would be pointless. You can do that just as easily when you get home, and then you'll have a proper keyboard and you can post photos (you in the back with the camera phone, stop snickering. Thanks.)



So as for what I'm doing now: I'm enjoying a steak and a nice cabernet. After that, it's the Jacuzzi. There's actually a mildly funny story about how I ended up with a Jacuzzi, but my thumbs are tired, and it would mess up the shallow, materialistic vibe I'm attempting to exude. Hey, I'm in Bend. I'm just trying to fit in.



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Oceanic mobloggage

I'm standing in the ocean right now, writing a blog post on the ol' Blackberry. Ok, I'm a dork. The things I'll do for the sheer novelty value...



If this turns out to be the last ever post here, you can probably blame the sneaker wave that I'm ignoring as I type this...



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an evening out

From yesterday evening, an attempted moblog gone awry...

---

I can never get the hang of this fashionable lateness thing. No matter how late I think I am, no matter how fashionable I try to be, I'm always there way freakin early. Stupid law-abidingness, assuming rules are observed, and things are as they're said to be. Silly me.

It's not that I'm always punctual. I'm not at the office at the crack of 9 each day. Hell, usually it isn't the crack of 10 either. But get me outside my comfort zone and I become mr. On the dot. Here I am at the doug fir again, waiting on another dahlia show. Doors open at 8, I got here half an hour in, and... Nobody. This is what comes from being a non-inveterate concertgoer. I just don't grok the local folkways.

Doesn't help that there's no BB reception here, so I can't mess around on the net or anything. I'm such a nerd. So I'm dinking away on the gadget anyway, sipping a vodka tonic, trying to look tres chic for all the people who aren't here. And yes, I realize smartphones aren't a universal status symbol. At least w/o reception I won't get sucked into any office email threads. Lecturing about the usefulness of GetProcAddress is not my idea of a good time. At the moment, I mean. During office hours, playing guru is great fun (and much easier than doing real work). Did I mention I'm a total nerd? It's true.

---

This isn't the first time I've done this. Here's an earlier Doug Fir-based moblog attempt, which I looked at later and decided it wasn't worth posting, what with babbling on about politics and all. It's more sort of notes for a moblog post really. I include it here primarily so that I can do a fun post-within-a-post-within-a-post thing, with another layer of nested blockquotes:

Ok, so I still got here way early. I swear I'll never get the hang of this club thing.

Had a great time regaling all and sundry about the outsourcing fiasco. I think I got geek points yesterday. Also, spent part of today explaining the thing with windows file access times I blogged about a while back. I may not be the world's greatest buzzword engineer, but I am the king, the one true king, of domain knowledge.

Someday I'm going to have to post about unix auditing. Talk about domain knowledge.

Why don't I post about tech topics more often?

North korea, that I've threatened to post about for days: the fundamental issue here is that it's always a poor idea to make threats you aren't in a position to follow through on. Don't put someone in your axis of evil, and then give them 4+ years lead time to get ready for your plans, if you have any. I'm not saying dubya's policy is the only failed policy; the be-nice policy of s. Korea, china, and russia hasn't gotten results either. Other than possibly keeping someone in nk from starving. But it also doesn't aggravate the situation.

All W did was tip our hand years in advance. Scaring the baddies shouldn't be an end in itself. Always plan for how they might actually respond, don't just assume bullying them is bound to succeed.

Look at sco. They made all sorts of claims and threats against the linux world, and where are they now? They couldn't back it up when their target didn't back down, and there was no plan b. And even if there was a plan b, no matter how great it sounds, people remember it wasn't plan a. Democracy in iraq was plan b, after the wmd thing fell through. Plan b never gets as much credibility, or as wide a constituency. It's a fact of life.

See what I mean? Someone obviously needed to chill out and relax a little.

---

The WW had a big expose piece today alerting us that p-town is full of cokeheads. Not a "something should be done" piece like the O did with meth or anything. As far as I can tell, the point was partly to give us a knowing, lurid giggle, and partly so they could put a nagel print on the cover, and partly to coin the term "snortland", which you have to admit is kind of clever. I mention this because the piece mentions a bust going down in the doug fir's mens room a couple years ago. Greeeeeatttt. I'm not a judgmental person, generally, but this is one of the rare things that make me think less of someone. I've seen plenty of bad hollywood movies, and read about how they came to be. I'm pretty sure the coca plant is not a net benefit to humanity, just from that. We've already got quite enough arrogance and selfishness and greed going around already, thanks. I'm not saying put anyone in jail. I'm just saying cokeheads shouldn't be suprised when people make fun of 'em.

---

I did a blog post earlier today with even more photos. I never get a lot of orblogs visitors from those. And yet, they're easy, and it still never ceases to surprise me when I come up with photos that look good. I tend to be self-deprecating about it and credit the idiot-proof camera. And to a degree I'm right; I can get good results without having to know all that much about cameras, optics, etc. It's also nice to get good results w/o spending lots of money, because I'm cheap. I already have a camera - why buy another, until this one breaks?

It's also true, though, that I've always sort of wanted to be good at this. I had an old 110 camera as a kid and tried "artsy" shots even then. Not all that successfully, but I tried. It's the lack of instant feedback, and the cost of film, that held me back, I think. No more "make the shot count". Just take lots of pics, try lots of stuff, and eventually something may turn out ok.

---

[short break]

Again I wasn't too lucky getting anyone else within my orbit to come this time, but it's about the music, not the socializing with those who orbit me, really, so whatever.

There's a bunch of teachers sitting behind me, gossiping. They're all the same.

I swear I won't touch this thing when the music starts. I'm not quite that much of a nerd. I think.

Vodka tonic #2 now. Not great really, but cheap & inoffensive, & they come in cheap plastic cups. Awesome.

I sort of left off with the political posts the last few days. I at least ought to gloat about the election, but I haven't yet. Or gloat about Wolfie. At least Falwell's still dead, the bastard.

That'd be a good movie plot come to think of it: the rapture happens, separating souls from still-living bodies, which become the undead. Zombies? Vamps? Rapture is either magical, or corporate (enslaved zombies)

I'm full of genre movie plots. Did I ever tell you about my s&s plot? All those classic s&s pix were filmed in argentina during the dictatorship, in the runup to the falklands. Film crew has usual unheroic type characters, but has to save their people from the junta. Local creative types exactly the people who'd be under suspicion and get "disappeared". Juxtapose against film's hackneyed script (spoof?).

It's starting to fill in now. I've been here about an hour, so it's about time. Past showtime and no show yet. Bastards. I did *my* part, dammit. I'm not just a nerd, I'm a freakin' calvinist. Part-time, about some things, I mean.

For lunch today I tried Ziba's Pitas, the Bosnian cart up on Park by the Galleria. Yes, Bosnian. And I'm sold. Tomorrow, will it be Bosnian again, or the Peruvian joint a few carts down? I'm spoiled for choice, honestly. I lean towards Bosnian, because of the feta cheese thing. Mmmm...

Tptb tell me I'm working on Solaris again, which is awesome. My Sun box is relevant again, although I still need to get its damn video card issues worked out.

---

It'd be fair to wonder why I do this. I don't go to that many concerts, but I keep going to dahlia. A friend dragged me to the first one, and it was more than fun. It was *cathartic*, as silly as that sounds. That's rare. Then the vocal half went to nyc to seek her fortune, and I figured, never again will I experience that. Now she's back, and they've got all new material, and... Yeah. I've missed the last few monthly gigs, first because of the weather, and then that damn sore toe. It still isn't better exactly, but I'm doing this anyway, dammit.

So I'm perhaps not the most high-value fan a group could have. I admit that. But I think I do ok at it, anyway. It's not like 7th grade, it's not about impressing anyone, or getting societal approval or whatever. It's all about letting go for a while. Perhaps you don't realize how hard that is?

---

[opening act begins]
...

Sophe Lux, opening act. Show fine, music awesome. Maybe not dance -> 3/4 time often. Waltz, I dunno how. Bought 2 cds. Yes, typing on BB again, but no music right now. Gimme a break, already. I'm doing this for *you*, dammit. Show some luv.

...


[Show ensues]


...


Ok. Home now. Very tired. Happy. Did I say "tired" yet?


Zzzzzzzzz.....

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Sunshiny

So I'm out enjoying the sun, although I ought to be working right now. A coworker told me he couldn't afford to go outside right now. And neither can I, but here I am. Blame it on spring. I do.

Technically I'm not outside at the moment. I'm combining an afternoon walk with a late lunch, so I'm sitting here with a foo-foo mango margarita, tapping furiously away on the ol' Blackberry. And I feel like such a total dork, but hey.

As I said, really I ought to be tinkering with my Solaris kernel module, or my intractable java bugs right now, or doing something useful, like getting a haircut. But the sun's in my eyes, and I simply can't do any of those things.

Until I started this post, I was reading one of our fair city's free and very silly New Age newspapers. All about "miracles", channeling, reincarnation, quack medicine, the whole works. My wife makes fun of me for reading these things, but it's oddly irresistable. I read these people babbling on about crystals and unicorns and crap, and I see dollar signs. They're practically begging to give their money away, and chances are they've got tons of money, and they don't expect to receive anything of tangible value in return. Sure, it'd still be evil to exploit 'em, in an objective sense, but it's not exactly TV evangelism, is it? It's not like you're ripping off the poor. Silly weak-minded rich people are sort of fair game, dontcha think?

When I was younger and less cynical, I used to be outraged that supposedly intelligent, educated people would fall for this nonsense. I was really big on the whole "skeptical humanist" outlook, and saw the New Agers as a real threat.

I could say "silly me" but it's not just me that's changed. In retrospect it seems like that was such an innocent time, when a few Shirley Maclaine types seemed like something to worry about. As silly as they are, you don't see them screeching about the Rapture and waterboarding people and demanding eternal wars all across the Mideast, do you? As ludicrous as New Agers are, they still qualify as Mostly Harmless, unlike, say, the president, for example. As an entirely nonreligious person, Mostly Harmless is the most positive thing I'm inclined to say about any irrational belief system. Still, the possibility of laying hands on their cash is awfully attractive. I'm pretty short on evil impulses, despite the nym, but sometimes I'm tempted to set myself up as some sort of fancy guru and rake in the bucks. In reality that won't happen; I'm nowhere near evil enough to actually do it, just enough to be sorely tempted sometimes.

Ok, enough ranting. It's sunny out, and that's rare enough that it's a shame to waste a moment of it making fun of people, as much as they might deserve it. I'm outside now - I wandered up to Washington Park and I'm traipsing about taking pictures of flowers and such, like I tend to do. But you don't get to see them just yet, since this post will be logical day 3 of the logical week of monomedia, and them's the rules.

The great thing about Washington Park is that despite being a crown jewel of the city park system, it's full of obscure nooks and crannies nobody knows about. Venture off the beaten path just a little and you could be lost in the Coast Range, practically. Every now and then you'll pass a couple having a private moment, or teens splitting a six pack, and you'll catch the occasional whiff of illicit herbal entertainment. But this is Portland, so one doesn't make eye contact, much less rat anyone out to the fuzz. It's all good.

Wander around the park long enough and you'll stumble across the city's Holocaust Memorial, which for some reason is here in the middle of a serene park setting. It's pretty effective; some might even call it manipulative, with the scattered sculptures of lost toys, eyeglasses, a violin, and so forth. But it's certainly effective. It's a shame that the one lesson present-day people seem to want to draw from the Nazis' atrocities is that Palestinians and other Muslims can, and ought to be, slaughtered with absolute impunity whenever an opportunity presents itself. Call me crazy, but that seems to be missing the point, somehow.

I don't want to wrap this up on a down note like that. I didn't mean to include it at all, except that I stumbled across the thing, as I suppose you're meant to. So let's move on, shall we?

I'm up at the Rose Garden now. We're heading towards sunset, and the camera batteries are nearly spent, so it's about time to head back to Civilization and Responsibility and all that. But it's been a good day. Maybe I'll go ahead and post some photos soon, rules or no rules...

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Moblog season

So mostly I'm just doing this to look busy. I wandered out of the office to go track down this year's copy of TurboTax, finally, which meant a trip over to the Mac store near Lloyd Center. Which in turn meant a side trip to the mall proper to visit the food court in search of the fabled "Mexi-Fries Grande", basically a plate of tater tots with cheese, salsa, sour cream, green onions, and most importantly... Bacon! But that's a subject for another time, since I can't post photos from the BB here. Did I mention I have an extremely sore big toe? Well, I do, and after all that walking I figured a sore toe was a good reason to grab a beer on the way back to the office. It's a tendon thing, or possibly a ligament, and either way the beer isn't actually medicinal. But still, it seemed like a good idea. So here I am at the downtown Stumptown, and everyone except me has a laptop. Ok, I'm exaggerating, but they're a clear majority. Everyone's so *busy*... So I figured I didn't want to look totally out of place, I mean, everyone else might start to feel insecure and wonder why they're sitting there doing real work (or playing solitaire) when they could be out enjoying the rare sunshine. I have a sore toe, let's keep that in mind, so I have a legitimate excuse. And they don't.

I have this tedious habit of always counting the laptops when I'm in a coffee shop. Right now we're up to 9, which I think ties the record. Stumptown really isn't that big, so 9 means one at every table, and a couple on the sofa in back. Oh wait, there's two on one of the tables, so we're up to 10 now. And 6 are Macs.

The Oregonian had a piece this morning about it being the season to take the laptop out to the park and mooch some of that tasty free WiFi goodness, although they quickly discovered that it's more of a theoretical good idea than an acutal one.

I had a corporate Dell notebook for a while, and I used to use it when I rode MAX. I felt so important... One time a guy offered to trade me a bag of weed for it, so clearly he didn't realize how much the thing cost. It would've had to be a very, very large bag, is what I'm saying. Speaking purely hypothetically, of course.

Ok, now we're up to 11. When the laptops go up to 11, you know things are entirely out of hand. It's just posing, at that point. But hey, I just paid $6 for a Chimay on draft, so what do I know?

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Friday beery mobloggitude

Ok, so I had to get out of the office, due to the sunshine and whatnot. And it turns out that the downtown Stumptown has Rodenbach on tap right now. I'd never had it before, but now I can see why it's so revered. Not universally revered; some small-minded folks will never accept tart, reddish beer that's aged in giant wood barrels. 0h, well. More for me, that way.

The closest comparison I can come up with is Duchesse de Bourgogne, although if you haven't heard of Rodenbach you probably have little or no experience of DdB either. Rodenbach is actually less tart, and also drier (less sweet) than Duchesse, so it seems more refreshing. I would happily drink one after working out. I'd put it right up there with Bavarian hefeweizens on that account.
It seems more complex, too, and I can't put my finger on what those extra notes are. I'm generally not so good at associating a word with a smell or a taste, so this isn't surprising. I would be hopeless trying to write about wine. And hence, I almost never make the attempt.

It's also not too high ABV, at least by Belgian standards, so I might get some intelligible UML churned out today.

Yes, I'm on the clock right now, sort of, and I'm eagerly awaiting visions of sugar plums, er, class diagrams, dancing in my head. Any minute now, I'm sure.

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amnesia

When you realize the supposed bug you're scratching your head over is happening because you've brought the corporate network to its knees trying to locate a different, customer-reported bug (with the boss's full approval & active participation, I hasten to add) - you just know it's time for a beer. So I'm up at Amnesia Brewing on trend-o-licious Mississippi Avenue right now, sipping a Desolation IPA. I actually like their other IPA (Copacetic IPA) better, but I already had one of those, and I'm all about variety and all that. The Desolation is a little stronger, and less hoppy than the Copacetic, which is basically a pint of tasty Amarillo hop nectar. Mmmmmmm....... And the sausages are pretty damn delicious, too.

You'd never mistake me for a hipster, not even a mildly aging one. I might have walked past the old X-Ray Cafe at the very moment Kurt met Courtney, but I wasn't cool enough to go inside, so I don't know for sure. You've probably heard of bands that I haven't. It pains me that many of the city's newer breweries have located in the city's hipster colonies, since everyone knows hipsters drink nothing but PBR anyway. Ok, not strictly true. A hipster friend (who's also my token bike-fascist and off-leash-dog hipster friend) is a real rebel and drinks Olympia. Or was it Rainier? I can never tell the difference.

Anyway, that's all by way of explanation so you don't get the wrong idea, since yesterday I was up on even-trendier Alberta St., although in my defense it was strictly for the beer. The new Mash Tun brewpub is there, tucked behind an ultra-cool hipster office supply shop(!), so a visit was inevitable. Decent IPA, very tasty porter, great falafel. Mmmmmm.....

Yes, friends, it's a real chore keeping up with our fair city's explosion of beery goodness. But as chores go, hey, it could be worse. Much, much worse.

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My new Crackberry addiction

Believe it or not, until a month or so ago I'd never owned or desired a mobile phone. Then I got a Blackberry, and I quickly learned where the "crackberry" nickname comes from. Hell, I'm using it to blog right now, as I have on several past occasions. What makes this time so special is that right now I'm at the gym, on a stationary bike. I've also got the iPod on, too, and I'm sure I look like a total clown. But I find that I simply don't care. You'll get this thing away from me when you pry it from my cold, dead hands, understand?

Now if only Crackberries were waterproof, so I could do this from the pool and be an even bigger gadget dork. Yeah, that would be just fabulous, I'm totally sure of it.
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Hot Sunday Moblogism

Ok, I managed to drag myself outside after all. It's really hot out today. Did I mention that already? I wandered down to the tram tower to take a few photos (which I'll post when I get to a box that speaks Camera). I decided that was enough pointless, geeky exertion for the moment, so I'm on the streetcar now. The heavily air-conditioned, non-walking-about-in-the-sun streetcar. Mmmm.... Transit...

So a few days ago I was out getting rained on, taking pictures of roses for you people, and now I went out and risked a slim but nonzero chance of heatstroke on your behalf, and has anyone thanked me yet? Anyone at all? Umm, no. Maybe I ought to start just making stuff up and saying I did it, without leaving the comfort of my own home. It would probably work out just as well in the end.

The streetcar is full of tourists, plus the sort of locals who aggressively seek out tourists to yammer at. The sort of people who work really hard at cultivating their quirky local vibe, and want everyone on earth to hear all about it. If that wasn't bad enough, today's Oregonian ran another of those "You Know You're From Oregon If..." articles this morning, celebrating the fascinating folkways of our little tribe. I guess maybe some of us were slacking off in the smugness department and needed reminding about our truly special uniqueness, which isn't like anyone else's uniqueness, nosirree.

In reality, all these articles accomplish is to help rich Californians learn how to pass as natives. Well, they try, anyway. The cologne and gold chains are dead giveaways, and in all history no real Oregonian has ever used the word "babe" as a synonym for "buddy".
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Mmm.... Sunshine...

It's sunny outside for once. Too sunny to get any work done, and too sunny to tinker with a post about neocons I've been working on. So here I am, sitting on a park bench along the Eastbank Esplanade, enjoying the sun and moblogging just because I can. What I can't do is post photos from this gadget -- maybe someday I'll figure out a way to get the BB and the camera talking to one another, but it doesn't just happen right out of the box. So technology still has a ways to go. I'll just post some pics later. I'm sure that'll be ok.

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