That's all I know right now

Let's take a moment to talk about Personal Health and Beauty Product Packaging.

If you're like most people, and most people are, you're not exactly at your cognative peak when you stagger into your morning shower. I'm lucky to remember that cold water knob is on the left, and the hot on the right. At least I think so. Actually, I usually stand outside the shower and freeze until I get the temperature right. Once bitten, twice shy and all that. As further evidence of a depreciated mental state, I somehow think that this would be a good time to drag a pair of razor blades over my face and neck. When the bleeding is mostly staunched I'm faced with selecting each of the the pictured products and applying same to their associated body parts. Kind of like a multiple choice quiz, but with hygenic consequences.

Which brings me back to the packaging of these items. I realize that all of the marketing computers are telling these companies the same things about the size, shape, and color of package that appeals most to the discerning super market shopper. But for the love of Pete, could you please agree on a level of variation that will make it less likely for people like me to find out just what exactly 2.54 ounces of "Gillette(R) Series(tm) after shave gel sensative skin" tastes like?

I need a new toothbrush and a haircut.

Resurrection Day

Ahhh. My office is Carolina Blue. My whiteboards are up. All is right with the world. My new pack of disposable razors even claims to have a "Soft Ultragrip". I'm on the top of the heap, baby.

Ain't Livin' in Sin No More

Ever hear the phrase "Ugly as Homemade Sin"? Thanks to the fine professional gentlemen who have consented to paint our house in exchange for certain financial considerations, we are well on our way to asthetic normalcy. Yee-hah!

The living room and dining room are done. The other rooms are full of boxes covered in plastic, awaiting the return of a more palatable palatte. My office is still Navy Blue since they're saving the wallpapered rooms for last. It will be wonderful when the painting is finished and we can finally unpack. Mmmmm, domestic tranquility. Isn't there something in the Constitution about that? We need an ammendment regarding the colors tenants are and are not allowed to use in rented houses...

I thought the wife would be the one who was most aggrieved by our home's interior tragedy. Oddly, I'm the on who's most disturbed by it. But do I complain? Hell yes!

I'm holed up this weekend hosting a marathon programming party. I'm also the only guest. Still, it's nice to be able to cross off big chunks of my task list. PDF file generators fear me.

More next time I take a break. For now I'm back at it...

BlackRainbow

Well, we're back. They painted the interior of the house, except where it needed it...

I think these tragic pictures speak for themselves.

We're settling in. The water heater blew up this morning, right after the toilet broke. They tell me the events were not related. I'm not so sure.

Things Left Undone

Paul Thorn Rock-Out Marathon hour 1295, and packing is nearly finished. Just the last minute sweeps of the rooms, pack up the computer, and stow the bed linens in the morning.

You'll have to use your imagination kiddies, the camera, card reader, and usb cables are all packed. Besides, one empty house looks pretty much like another. Right now an empty house looks pretty good.

Avast me hearties! Tomorrow we sail fer home!

800 Pound Jesus

More like: "9,700 pounds? Jesus!"

Packing continues.

(Paul Thorn rock out marathon hour 997)

Every little bit hurts

Paul Thorn rock-out marathon hour 954.

There are few immutable rules in life. One of them is: If it stings Tom, it dies.

There was (note the clever foreshadowing provided by the past tense) a wasp nest in the car port last week. I didn't think much of it; live and let live. Until I was trying to get some boxes out of the back seat of the car, and a wasp flies down and bounces off my UNC hat...

"That was kinda wierd. (Gears slowly grinding into motion) They must not like me being so close to their nest in a bright orange Auburn TShirt. (Gears emmiting horrible screeching noise as they gain momentum) I'd better get these boxes out of the car (Gears spinning freely, finally up to speed) before, OWW!! That *%^&ing little son of a *%&#$ing &%^$ *#&^%#$er stung me!" And it hurt too. Not as bad as some stories would have you believe, but it's by no means pleasant.

It's also interesting to note that while it failed to penetrate my UNC hat, it had no trouble piercing my flesh through an Auburn shirt.

Heels: 1

Tigers/WarEagles/WhateverThey'reCallingThemselvesThisWeek: 0.

So I popped out to the grocery store that night and invested in a can of pressurized and highly potent neurotoxins, developed by member of my species for the express purpose of eleminating members of his species. Heh. I got your food chain right here pal. Long story short: Who would you put your money on, the species that builds their houses out of paper, or the one that builds their houses out of concrete and steel?

Double Wide Paradise

Paul Thorn rock-out marathon hour 877.

I have lots of things to write about when I'm too busy to write about them. Thus, no entries for five weeks.

The beach was awesome, as usual. Communed with four of the five nephews. Hung out with siblings. Told bad jokes with my Dad. Took a stack of books that I didn't get to open. Got some kites in the air. Consumed much tasty comestabilia*. Ate NC Barbeque three times. Had taffy and orange sherbert on a porch swing with the spousal unit. Generally decompressed at a time when decompression was called for.


*You may know this as food. Hmm, maybe "comestabilia" should be food that you take home as a souvenir, like a doggie bag?

Everybody Looks Good at the Starting Line

Paul Thorn rock out marathon, hour 126 and counting...

I didn't notice until after I took this picture how similar Paul Thorn and Marshall Crenshaw are. By similar I mean they both wear hats. They're both modern analogs of Rock Icons (Elvis and Buddy Holly, respectively). And so far they've both failed to pierce the ear-wax and crushed-Pringle's crust of popular culture. So be it.

Rock lives.

Reason #31 to move back to Carrboro: Paul Thorn has played the Cat's Cradle each of the last two years, including last April, before I saw the light.

One of the cool things about programming is that I can listen to music while I do it. It keeps the distractable (touchy-feely, artsy, Dr. McCoy) side of my brain busy so the other (analytical, logical, Mr. Spock) side can get things done.

Back in the days when I actually played CDs, instead of ripping them to the computer and playing the file, I would measure time by how many I'd gone through while programming. I'd put a stack of a half-dozen or so at the left of my keyboard, pop the first one in the drive and start to work. When the stack was gone, it was time to eat. When I got back, I'd set up the stack again and when I'd played them all it was time to go home (or if we were in a crunch it was time to eat again, and after the third time through it was definately time to go home, because I was forgetting to deallocate my pointers.

I have very strong associations between certain times of my life and the albums I was listening to at the time. Waiting on the porch for the mail in Bluefield, listening to Havana Daydreaming, my first Jimmy Buffet album. Whenever I hear Barometer Soup I'm taken back to writing genetic algorithms for carpet layout software. Fingers Taylor's New Fingerprints always recalls my brief stint at the Village Companies. I could go on for another 30 or so records, but you get the idea...

Paul Thorn's Mission Temple Fireworks Stand is forever entwined in my mind with writing my first project for Roger, plumbing the mysteries of the gawd-awful DLL I have to use to communicate with the so-cool-it-makes-ice-cream check scanner, and counting off the days until we move back home.

Music and smells are powerful evokers of old times. Take a whiff of some newly opened Play Dough sometime, you'll know what I mean.

Downtown Babylon

Yes Virginia, music still lives. MTV didn't kill it. They just beat the crap out of it and hid it behind the bushes for 20 years. Then people like Paul Thorn picked it up, dusted it off, took it home and fed it lots of Wheaties.

You've gotta like a guy from Tupelo Mississippi (look it up kiddies) who lasted six rounds with Roberto Duran, talks like Forrest Gump, sings like a cross between Tom Waits and Kim Wilson, and dedicated a song to all the Moms who keep empty Cool Whip bowls in the cabinet for sending left over greens back home with their sons.

I'm not saying you'll like his music. People have different tastes. I'll just say this is the first time I've paid overnight shipping charges at amazon.com for something that was for me.

Paul Thorn's website

His home page has a link to a two part mp3 of a solo acoustic performance. Some songs deal with concepts and vocabulary that are Definately Not Kid-Friendly. Some are likely not Spouse-Friendly either, but I'll leave that to your descretion.

"Are you with me?" is a polished, studio album, not bad, but "Mission Temple Fire Works Stand" is less processed, and better for it. Actually, the solo mp3 with just PT and his guitar and a microphone is probably the best of the three, because there's less to get in the way of the music.

If anyone needs me, I'll be rocking out.

I'm Comin' 'Lizabeth!

It started out fine. Backwards, but fine. My pride and joy was taking it's first steps across the living room rug. No Poppa was ever more proud. Until the back legs started rotating further to the side with each step, until they were swiveled ninety degrees from their starting orientation and the geometry couldn't take it anymore. Then it plopped over looking for all the world like a dying cockroach, legs frantically flailing about. Panic ensued. Somebody shot out the lights. Tactical operatives from the HomeOwner's Association crashed through the windows.

God awful mess; you should see my shoes...

Liiiife! I've created liiiiiiiife!!!

Well, if you define "life" as something that can walk. Kind of. At least backwards. Until it falls over and tries to shred itself. Who said eviloution was easy?

Periodic reminder: If you click most of the pictures, you can see a larger version.

Familiarity Breeds Contempt

What Brown has done for me

We're hoping for lots of tomatoes, lots of banana peppers, both hot and mild, and lots of watermelon. We already have lots of carrots, basil, and the oregano has gone, in teh vernacular, "hawg wild". Bartholomeu the Toad still reigns in the flower bed, often stationing himself under the marigolds.

Gardening is like sales, if you have to lay it on, lay it on thick.

20 more reasons to head for the Hill

11) Desserts at NC Museum of Art cafe - Raleigh
12) NC Zoo - Asheboro
13) Woody Durham on the Radio instead of the internet
14) The Chapel Hill Public Library
15) Cerebral Hobbies game store
16) The Crab Cakes at Capt. John's
17) Living 3 Blocks from the Kindergarden, Elementary and Middle School
18) Visart Video
19) The Caio Bella at Amante Gourmet Pizza
20) Tracy, our Reliable Babysitter
21) I get to go to my Dentist again
22) The Ali Cat Toy Store has Tinker Toys
23) Spring
24) Fall
25) The Backyard Deck
26) Egg Rolls and Kung Pao Chicken at Hunam before Carolina games
27) Good Book Stores
28) Good Used Book Stores
29) The skylight in our kitchen
30) UNC Basketball (Roy's Boys will rawk!)

I made a culinary discovery of Epic Proportions the other day. Jerk Pork Burritos. I prepared Jerk Pork per The Barbeque! Bible by Steven Raichlin and of course we froze the leftovers. Later that week, an inspired coup saved me a trip to Bruno's. We had tortillas. We had rice. We had cheese. We had beans. Well fine, we could have regular burritos, or we could just go HOG WILD and eat JERK PORK BURRITOS!!! They were really, really good. Didn't even need salsa. heh.

What can Brown do for you?

I have a new favorite gas: Nitrogen. It's the most plentiful element in the atmosphere (it blows oxygen away, 75.523% to 23.133%), they put it in potato chip bags to maintain freshness, and when bound up with other chemicals in solid form (as by cows eating grass and doing other things cows do), it makes the garden grow. Nice and green and leafy. When the blooms come in we'll be switching our emphasis to Phosphorous and Potassium, but for now hit me with the big "N".

Ten Good Reasons for Tom to Live in Chapel Hill

The rumors are true. We're moving back to Chapel Hill probably late this summer.

Ya-hoo!

Here's a partial list of why:

1) It's closer to my Dad
2) Fitch Lumber Company for Hardware
3) Intrex Computers for parts
4) My daughter's old enough to enjoy the Morehead Planetarium
5) UNC Season Football Tickets
6) Occasional UNC Basketball Tickets
7) Pound cake from the Carrboro Farmer's Market
8) Other goodies from the Weaver Street Market
9) Allen & Son Barbeque
10) Summer Movies on the Lawn in front of the Lumina

Mmmm Mmmmm Good!

There are very few human problems that can not be solved by the skillful and timely application of two hundred and forty pounds of manure. (You might want to cut and paste that somewhere for future reference. It comes in handy at the oddest times.)

The garden soil tested great for phosphorous and potassium, but was very low in nitrogen. I suppose the weeds/shrubs/trees I dug out took it all away. I find it strange that although the atmosphere is more than 75% nitrogen, I've still got to go buy some to put in my dirt. Yet another example of the Perversity of Nature. I spent over an hour mowing the lawn again (ie beating back that which nature wants to grow), and another hour or two digging and fertilizing the garden (ie forcing the growth of that which nature doesn't want to grow). I guess it's Human Nature to seek a challenge, and Nature's Nature to whack us on the head for it.

Further updates as warranted.

Road Trip

If a picture is worth a thousand words, then this one comprises a near perfect essay of how I perceive South Carolina.

My Cat Eats Science

So the Vet said that we should feed our cat "Science Diet" cat food. That's fine. I've got no problem with that. She eats it well enough, it doesn't smell bad, it's not too expensive. As cat foods go, it seems like a good one.

Then I start to wonder, "what kind of science am I giving her?" I'm all for science in general, but some sciences are better than others, at least in my opinion. The science she's eating is very crunchy, which leads me to believe she's getting at least some hard science, but she often wanders off by herself just after dinner, so maybe there isn't enough social science in the mix.

Now I'm starting to worry about the various implications of the hard sciences to which I'm exposing my pet. Too much Topology? Not enough combinatorics? It's hard to say, but she is very productive in the biochemistry department. Is she getting her proper allocation of the cognitive sciences? If she is I sure can't tell it. Her high energy physics might be a tad overdone, if anything.

It's such a mixed bag these days, and the product label is no help at all. I'd like to be sure she's getting enough evolution, but not so much that we have to redefine the nature of our relationship. Life is complicated enough already.