Hard choices…
Irene and I love our animals. Seven cats, a horse...
...and until yesterday, a dog. We made the decision On July 3rd to have Sheena euthanized. Goodbye, old girl...Irene and I love our animals. Seven cats, a horse...
...and until yesterday, a dog. We made the decision On July 3rd to have Sheena euthanized. Goodbye, old girl...I sometimes hear or experience something that cements my way of thinking. Sort of a "eureka!" moment, I suppose, but on a personal "philosophical" level. I had one of those moments earlier this week.
Someone made a comment, a standard cliche heard in corporate circles all the time: If we aren't growing, we are dying. Naturally, I've heard this comment before. And I've had a fundamental disagreement with it, but this time a bunch of thoughts came together at once for me. I am a consumer. Not quite a BMW driving, Latte sipping, Armani wearing Yuppie, but sort of the techy equivalent. I don't feel a need to apologize for my life. But in recent years, I've made some decisions regarding the balance between "more!" and "happy!". I've jumped off the career fastpath, taken an effective pay cut, and started doing work I enjoy more. I haven't gone to live in a sod hut, or stopped buying computer upgrades: but I've made some changes. So maybe that's made me more sensitive to the extreme side of the capitalist/consumerist ethic. So what bothered me about the "we gotta be growing or we're dying" statement? Basically, its at the root of the dotcom bubble, and its part of the "evil" of the stock market. Ten years ago I disagreed with this statement, when my employer at the time started laying people off because we "only" grew our profit by 10% that year. Years ago, you didn't lay people off unless you were losing money. In the 90's, it became normal to dump people just because you weren't growing fast enough. But I didn't really meld this into a personal philosophy. I think a better personal statement for me would be "if you aren't improving, you are dying". I don't think growth or expansion equals improvement. If it did, cancer would be the most successful form of life: it grows really well. An individual or a company that is becoming more efficient, that is learning and correcting its "bad habits", that produces a better product, that delivers faster and provides a more satisfactory solution to its client, that is "happier"...that company is better than a company that simply gets bigger. I'd like to think that what I'm saying here is just common sense. But it doesn't seem to be that way. I still hear that cliche statement, and it continues to bother me... Getting better, not necessarily richer...Irene left me!
Well, in truth, it is thankfully only temporary. After flexing her muscles with the cats for a while this Saturday morning, she boarded a plane for sunny Edmonton to visit some friends and family. While waiting for Irene to clear security at the airport, I witnessed evidence of their new focus on security. X-rays of Irene's carry on luggage were carefully examined, and the inspectors pulled Irene aside to inspect her luggage by hand. Inside, they found this weapon of mass destruction:
My nephew, Shane, is a great guy. He’s the sort of guy who, when his most geographically proximal Uncle forgets his birthday, would never be upset. In fact, he’d probably feel all good and warm, knowing that his Uncle eventually did remember his birthday…even if it was only after Shane mentioned eating birthday cake on the day in question. (more…)
Irene and I took a little day trip today up to Cultus Lake and the Columbia Valley. You can check out the photos if you like.
Gollum won an award on MTV's Movie Awards for best CG character...and you have to check out Gollum's acceptance speech.
My Linux server, the system that this website and several others run on, is hot. I don’t mean that its a really high performance computer (although its not bad): I mean its several degrees too warm.
I had one of those rare events today when I actually interacted with people up close. My Niece Marnie and her new husband, Murray (well, reasonably new: they got married in February) had a reception out here on the West coast for those of us who couldn't make the wedding out east.
I've set up an album with a few pictures I took, but here's one of the happy couple...apologies for the grain: the lighting wasn't great when I took thisEarlier today I was deep in thought trying to get a computer system to cooperate here at the home of the Fur Olympics. The doorbell rang, which always irritates me when I have a computer in pieces and its not behaving properly.
In that frame of mind, I opened the door. A white haired gentleman was there, and he immediately began to berate me. Apparently, he and his wife had been walking by our house, and the lawn clippings on our sidewalk offended his sensibilities. He also informed me that he "knew the man who owned this house before...", as if this would somehow cause me to quiver in my boots. I assured the fellow that I had just finished mowing the lawn an hour or so earlier, and planned on sweeping up. He then told me that no one else on my block had such rude grasskeeping habits as I, and that he had seen my despicable behaviour before. He again reminded me that he knew the man who owned my house before. Well, I swept the sidewalk. But let me tell you, I really wanted to find that old guy again and belt him one. So I had some grass clippings on my sidewalk. Unlike my neighbors, I mulch, which saves nature etcetera. It also saves me from having to bag lawn clippings, but apparently it offends this old fellow. But what really bugged me about what he said was his "I knew the man who lived here before you..." line. Exactly why should I care? I own the house now, I pay the mortgage, the taxes, and the other sundry bills. If he finds my sidewalk keeping habits unsatisfactory, well whoopdee fricking doo. I'm happy to hear a polite opinion, but this wasn't an opinion, it wasn't even remotely polite. I've never complained about our neighbor's howling dog, or the 2:30 AM backyard beer fests their teenagers have. I don't get go across the street and tell Mr. "I've got a leaf blower and I'm going to find something to blow around every blasted weekend" to shut his noisy contraption off. And now he has a gas powered pressure washer... But right about now, I really figure I should start complaining. Apparently, once you reach a certain age, that becomes your right. Just walk right up, and piss some one off with your useless, self-absorbed, myopic, and basically irritating opinion. And frankly, I've about had it up to here (points somewhere above the top of his head) with retired wastes of good oxygen telling me how offensive my grass clippings are. The moral: if you come to my door, with some complaint about something as earth-shatteringly critical as my lawn keeping habits, then I strongly advise that you approach it with some degree of subtlety, wit, and friendliness. Otherwise, keep your trap shut and find something useful to do with your life.
Irene was brushing our dog Sheena today and discovered that Sheena had a cut on her neck. I took a look, thinking it was a little nick or something…but instead it was a huge, 3″ long slash going quite deep into the flesh. (more…)