New School

A gent in my company has been in petroleum, quite literally, longer than I’ve been alive. He’s argued to me that none of his experience prior to the last seven years even helps him any more. He has a point.

On a random day early this spring, he asked me if the market was up huge that day. I said no, only about two bucks. He paused, then muttered to himself about how the game has changed when someone can look at a $2 dollar jump in crude and not think of it as worth writing home about.

Prior to ten years ago, it would have been among the all-time biggest movement days. Prior to last year, it would have been quite a noteworthy day. Such days barely catch my eye any more. I’ve only been in petroleum 3.5 years, so I know crude moves of over $4 per barrel are amazing. Time alters perceptions, and the oil markets have fundamentally changed in the last 3 years.

Everyone needs to get their feet wet. My generation is doing so in a hurricane

Mitch Albom is a punk

Okay, so I admire him as a writer. And his books are touching in a personal, meaningful way, without being overly preachy. So there are life lessons aplenty to be learned from his books, ones that could really help provide clarity and priority to those of us who are a little lost.

I accept and freely admit all these things.

Time to vent. I finished "For One More Day," his life-after-death view of a man's goal of suicide and how he was saved. Mitch, if I see ever see you in public I'm gonna throw you a beating. Frickin rip my heart out, why don't you? You bum.

If you ever want to be more appreciative for your parent(s), read this book. You'll regret every injustice you've ever done your mom and/or think of your dad as Superman.

Unless, of course, you're parental relationships were actually worse than his, in which case, God bless you.

iLetDown

Steve Jobs called it "revolutionary and magical." I'm guessing he doesn't know the definition of either word.

The iPad is a large iPod Touch. That's what it is. So it's not revolutionary. At all. Making old technology bigger does not impress. Note to Apple: every tablet ever has been a failure. The iPad's hope for success? The Cult of Apple. That's it. Suckers, err, people, so obsessed with the brand they can't think logically about it.

Let's breakdown the iPad. What is it technologically? Improved semiconductor (read: processor speed and efficiency), not Apple's thing; and LED technology (read: LG or Samsung or Sony -powered), not Apple's thing. So, we're looking at a non-Apple Apple Revolution? Pass.

As for magical, really Jobs? You kidding me? It transforms life? It's your computer, then you "dock it and it becomes your alarm clock." Like my cell phone since 2001?

My iPhone is magical, I believe that. It's this amazing computer that makes phone calls and fits in my pocket. ... ... Why do I need a bigger one? That won't make phone calls?

The iPad takes the iPhone and kills what makes it awesome. Way not to over-hype an XXL-iTouch.


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So long, "Sword"

Last night I finally gave up reading "Sword of Shannarah," as I just couldn't take it any more. It's easy to see how Terry Brooks grew into a solid author, as there are flashes of brilliance, but on the whole it's just bad writing.
When the word choice is so poor it's distracting, there needs to be an intervention. The worst part is you can see what he does right so clearly that the weaknesses are tragic for what they ruin. Brooks has some incredibly original thoughts, and some very clever views of human history. Then he shrouds them in cliches.
I currently have Elizabeth Kostova's "The Historian" in my car, and listen to it while I drive. I've read it before, but I'll still fund myself shaking my head at her astonishing word selection. It's humbling, to say the least. Combining her diction with the multiple interweaving storylines, we have a modern classic.
Then I go home and see where Brooks named the bad guys "the Skull Kingdom" and their leader "the Warlock King" and I want to slap him all the way back to "Rainbow Lake."
Ugh.
There are too many good books in the world to force yourself to read something anywhere below top quality.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Embarassing

What's worse than having a crappy day? Complaining about it.
Today is one of those days of zero motivation and frequent irritability. Basically, I'm being a baby.
God forbid I look at how great my life is. A loving, caring wife; a family so perfect it's almost funny; more friends than I can see regularly, a great dog, and even a good job in a bad economy.
If you're reading this, feel bad for me. Or know I'm an ungrateful ass today. One or the other.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

8 long months...

Since I've last posted...
Cinder's put on 30 pounds and has become a truly good dog. I know he's lucky to have left the pound, but we're just as luck to have him.
My wife became pregnant, and 3 months later no longer was. I've been boycotting this subject. I don't feel ready now either. I suppose the good news is that I'm not officially Cronus, as was looking like the case for a while there. So I got that going for me.
I have a Godson. He's a happy, healthy, huge baby. Just a blessing on us, and we're so lucky to get to share him. I'm chalking him and Cin up as the two good things from 09. There are others (other friends had kids as well), but those are the two I see a lot.
I now have a beard. Chinstrap and goatee. Surprisingly decent since it's my first foray into facial hair.
Life continues to treat me better than I have any right to expect or even hope for.

Don't call it a comeback

Cinder is not an aggressive dog. I have never seen him pick a fight with any animal, unless you count the birds and rabbits he chases around the backyard. Thankfully, he hasn’t managed to successfully catch any of them. Yet.

My dog, though, is far from perfect. While Cinder is never the instigator, he is always ready to play finisher. He approaches other dog encounters from a very guarded stance, ready to respond to any threat, real or perceived. This is unacceptable dog behavior, especially when the dog is 130 and growing. I was beginning to worry his development toward “good dog” status had completely stalled. This weekend, however, he made huge progress.

First, on a walk on Saturday, he avoided a fight outright. Coming around a bend, two ladies were enjoying the beautiful day, sitting in lawn chairs with their small dogs, probably 25 and 40 pounds apiece, sitting near them, off leash. Upon seeing Cinder, both women grabbed their dogs by the collars, just to avoid a clash of the dogs. They both managed to grab the collars, but the little one slipped his and made straight for Cinder and I. Of course, I’m fearing the worst.

With the little mutt, fur on end, bristling at my giant, Cin lunged forward…to sniff his rear. Sniffing Cinder back, naturally afraid, he gave a growl. The moment I feared came…and passed. Instead of responding in kind, Cinder sat back on his haunches, head tilted sideways, yellow eyes inquisitive. When the owner reached the little guy, he was cautiously sniffing Cin. It was a complete and total success for dog greetings and Cinder development alike.

The next win came Sunday. My yard backs up to a rocky, incredibly steep hill that reaches toward a neighbors metal rail back fence. Cin likes to sit atop this hill and look over our yard and neighborhood. Our neighbor on top is a sweet, little old lady with a sweet, little old golden retriever. As neither dog spends much time in their respective backyards, they had never met until yesterday.

Digging at the base of the hill, I had a perfect view of the proceedings. Cinder, standing next to their fence, spotted the old girl and froze, eyes locked on her, his stance ready. Looking at him, she paused, seemingly at the edge of the invisible barrier of his presence, then almost melted through it. It was if she crossed under and around the planes of his emotion, and approached him completely without fear or unease. His head and shoulders softened, almost imperceptibly, and he was instantly disarmed. There they stood, gently sniffing each other, until her owner called her in.

As I went back to digging, Cinder stared after her. Clearly confused at the impact she had, and at her lack of trepidation, he watched, almost longingly, as she walked away. Just when I start to worry that he’s no longer developing, I get a reminder that he’s just a puppy, and that yes, he’s coming along nicely.

Two complete victories for Cinder in less than 24 hours, and once again I am hopeful. Don’t call it a comeback.