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May 31, 2008

Geek Squad on Two Wheels

I decided to make today an automobile-free day. Which isn't really a big deal, I guess, unless you consider I wanted to get some things done as well.

I normally start my child-free weekends with ten or fifteen minutes of crying due to sadness. I only mention this as I'd like my boys to be aware of it should one of them happen across this entry at some point in his life after falling into a big pile of money (which, hopefully, raises his gullibility quotient).

The crying always makes me a bit peckish and following some tear wiping, nose blowing, and hand washing, I'll head off for breakfast.

Today breakfast was all the more sweet as I had a coupon for Hometown Buffet. I have video of the meal but haven't loaded the editing software on the new hard drive so you'll just have to trust me when I say it was spectacular (I chose my breakfast based on (1) nutritional content and (2) how it would look in the video — I am the Sam Peckinpah of morning meals).

If you are curiouis, Hometown Buffet is about five miles from where I live.

During breakfast my buddy Paul called. He'd asked me to do some computer work for him and I told him I'd zip over when I was done eating. As I worked my way through a second helping of scrambled eggs I plotted my route. While I knew I'd end up on Riverside Drive (which doesn't have the safest feel to it) I calculated that my time on it would be short enough that the chances of getting smashed would be rather small.

Paul and I made a trip to the computer store (his car, so I still count is as automobile-free for me), installed a new optical drive (which sounds so much more professional than "installed a DVD burner") and then went out to a late lunch (um, more driving in his car).

The skies got a bit ugly after we finished eating and I made a hasty, windy-as-hell, retreat toward the house. All told I put in just under 21 miles — and it was on The Mighty Schwinn (I have a big honkin' lock that fits on the Schwinn's rack … I lack a locking-it-up scheme for the new bike.)

I got home just in time to have a big nap, followed by a sandwich, then bed.

 

Technorati Tags: Cycling, Friends

Posted by delmer at 8:17 AM | Comments (6)

May 30, 2008

Another good thing about being a guy

"So, you got anything going on this weekend," I asked one of the Electrical Engineers as we strolled out of work Friday afternoon.

"I ..." and as soon as he started his sentence I realized we'd already had this conversation. He was going to West Virginia (which is Wild and Wonderful, if you've ever seen their license tags).

And you know how he completed his thought? He said, "I'm going to West Virginia," the Wild and Wonderful being understood and often left out of casual conversation. But that's not the important part.

The important part is that he didn't get his feelings hurt because he thought I didn't pay attention to him the first time we'd talked about this and he didn't accuse me of going behind his back and paying more attention to the Mechanical Engineers' weekend plans. 

He just told me what he was going to do.

As a matter of fact, when I apologized for making him repeat our earlier conversation he was polite enough to pretend he'd forgotten about it, "We already talked about this?" was all he said.

Why? Because we're guys.

Which means we don't get torqued out of shape about things like having to repeat stuff we've said.

And, there's a 95% chance he had no recollection of the earlier conversation either.

Technorati Tags: Friends

Posted by delmer at 6:17 PM | Comments (4)

May 29, 2008

There is so much to tell you

We'll start with this: For the third time in about as many months I'll be reloading everything on my notebook computer. Last night I shut the computer down at the end of work, using Start/Shut Down and when I tried to fire it up before bedtime, to catch up on blogs, I got "A disk read error occurred." Ah well.

In other news, last night as I was grilling chicken I heard a noise that would most likely be described as a child dragging a giant plastic ramp around. It would sound especially like that if you had an awareness that I had a giant plastic ramp in the back of the minivan and a child who, before I'd pulled up, that had been using a 2x4 as a small ramp.

And that would have been the boy I'd had X-rayed the day before and who had gone to school on crutches just that morning.

"Samson," I said. "Get away from that ramp!"

"Why?"

"Because I've made all the trips to Urgent Care I plan to make this week." I told him.

"But we won't have to go to Urgent Care," he said. And this was news to me. I hadn't realized Samson possessed any sort of internal Urgent-Care-scheduling mechanism. Had I known about it beforehand, and assuming he has a quota that needs to be met, I'd have certainly requested a non-Memorial-Day-evening injury.

"You'll be going to Mom's on Friday. You can do your ramp jumping then." And instead I took him to the small dirt track at the park so he could jump hills that would result in falls on hard-packed dirt instead of concrete.

(When I took him to school yesterday morning, on crutches, some of his buddies saw him hobbling up and said "Samson! Don't worry, we'll help you just like you helped us." It was very cute.)

Finally, this morning I drove the boys to school; I thought it would be a nice thing to do as this is their last school week with me. As I drove down Davidson, doing 42 in a 35 zone but not close to anybody, a guy got on my bumper. And I'm not kidding -- he was closer than anybody's been for as long as I can remember.

As you know I don't like tailgaters and if I'm speeding and being tailgated will slow down. So I slowed to 37 (which was still speeding). You may also remember I've adjusted one of the squirters on my windshield wipers and will sometimes give people a squirt if I'm in the mood. Since this guy didn't back off, I gave him a shot. This caused him to drop back.

It also caused him to express his displeasure over my displeasure of his tailgating to the point that he flashed his lights at me. And let me take this moment to say that in a world in which one person squirts and another person flashes his lights when the early morning sun is blasting into the auto's windshields ... the squirter wins (by my scoring, anyway).

We both made a right turn at the light and, because God loves me, turned into the school and made our ways to the child drop-off zone; we were cars one and two.

Leaving the school grounds we both took a left.

And he got nowhere near me.

Posted by delmer at 8:50 AM | Comments (14) | TrackBack

May 28, 2008

Aches and Pains

Years ago, and I mean like 40, my sister did something to her foot that led her to complain about it one night. She was about five.

The next day she played on it without issue. That night she complained of pain.

The following day she played on it again without any problem only to have bedtime aches.

The next day mom took her to the doctor where the foot was X-rayed, found to have been broken and in the process of healing.

"You should have seen the looks the nurses gave me. As if they thought I was the worst mother in the world," my mom has said when she tells that story.

And that's the story I told the doctor today when I took Samson in.

"So you're here trying to avoid getting mean looks later," he said laughing.

"Basically, yes. But he has been complaining and he seems to have trouble walking."

It all started when I took Sam to the bicycle shop for bike gloves. And I only mention this part of the story so I can say that I paid more for his gloves than I did mine. I agonized over spending $20.00 on bike gloves for myself (I said $25 in the video from last week and didn't realize my mistake until the film had gone through post production) — and I cranked out almost 2400 miles last year — but didn't give a second thought to spending $22.00 on gloves for Samson. I don't know what gene it is that makes me like this but I need to get it reversed; I'm the one with the job, I should get things I want without worrying too much over them. (I doubt Sam comes anywhere near 2400 miles going up and down our street.)

After we got the gloves home Samson needed to hop on the bike to test them out. Naturally, what with it being late in the evening on Memorial Day, he banged his foot up. Maybe I should have gotten him boots instead.

The foot continued to have trouble bearing weight Tuesday morning so we shot off to the doc's.

Anyway we went for an X-ray that was taken by a gal named Morag. When I asked if that was Scottish she replied, "That's a good guess." She was polite about it so I stopped short of explaining that as Americans go I wasn't all that stupid. Surprisingly, it wasn't until she'd given her name that I was able to hear her accent. When I commented on it she explained that she'd had to put some work into getting to the point American doctors could understand her clearly. Later I asked if she'd be kind enough to say "Captain, she can't take much more"; she politely declined. (And, no… I didn't really ask that.)

Sam's foot is not broken. It's just a bone bruise, or a muscle bruise or some other type of thing that's treated with ibuprofen, ice packs and Jack Daniels. He should be fine in a couple of days.

Technorati Tags: Cycling

Posted by delmer at 12:27 AM | Comments (14)

May 27, 2008

This would kill a woman

Yesterday morning I climbed out of bed and stepped up onto the scale. I could tell there was a problem right away as the digital dial shot up to 250 pretty quick before slipping into the little dance it does as it as it tries to sort out exactly where it was going to stop. And that magic number was 250.something — I really didn't pay any attention to the decimal involved.

The reason I didn't pay attention is that two days prior I weighed 242.something and a person just doesn't gain eight pounds that fast.

Still, it was a little disappointing. I'd put over 50 miles on the bicycle in the two days following the morning of the 242 weighing (and had taken the kids on a couple of forced marches) and a person likes to see progress.

As I looked down at the scale I said aloud, "This would kill a woman."

And then thought to myself, that sounds like a good title to a blog post. 

I blame the whole thing on George Lucas. Everything bad that happens in the world today can be traced directly to Jar Jar Binks. Wait, that's not it… the boys and I had gone to see Indiana Jones and whatever quest he's on and had gone through a fair amount of popcorn and all of it's salty excellence.

And we'd had a late dinner.

Today, if you're curious, I came in at 242.8

And the boys an I thought Indiana Jones was a darned good time.

Technorati Tags: Movies, Women

Posted by delmer at 8:02 PM | Comments (13)

May 26, 2008

Bicycle Conversations

Samson and I were outside today and I was watching him ride his bike. It has a dirt bike look to it but it has something like 21 gears. As he stopped next to me I reminded him to not shift while he was standing on the pedals. "It can be bad for the equipment," I said.

"You mean the gears?"

"No, I mean your testicles. I think you're more likely to bang your cookies into the top tube while shifting."

My theory being the chain is more likely to slip or the change in pedal speed might throw a person off and either one could result in cookie crunching. I may be totally wrong but if you smash the goods just once every 10,000 shifts it's still a good precaution to take.

 

A short while back I was all Lycra'd up and riding with a some people.

"You look like you've been pooped on," one of them said, looking at me.

"Does it still show," I said, "The divorce was two years ago."

Maybe you had to be there but we all laughed. And the "poop" was something I'd bumped my helmet into while in the garage.
 

Speaking of poop. As I rode along today I felt two rain drops hit me; one on the cheek and one on the side of the mouth. I stuck my tongue out to get the one that hit the side of my mouth and developed an awareness of two things: (1) that the rain drop seem to have a little more mass to it than I would have guessed and (2) there didn't seem to be any other drops falling.

While I was a little concerned that I'd been Cyndee Laupered I figured there wasn't much I could do about it and set my mind to trying to remember why bird poop was white. Is it high nitrogen content? Albino worms?

I gave the mouth a wipe and didn't notice any poo on it (of course, I could have done a pretty good tongue job). I stopped a few minutes later and noticed I seemed to be bird-poop free all the way around.

I'm not sure what the extra massiness was.

Technorati Tags: Crying, Friends

Posted by delmer at 6:27 PM | Comments (11)

Big Loads

I took the new bike out before breakfast this morning. I've read that you burn more fat exercising on an empty belly and figured what the hell. I've no idea if that's true as I read a lot of things and a lot of it contradicts something else I've read.

I don't often bicycle when I have the boys as I'm afraid someone will smash into me and one of my children will answer a knock at the door to find a police officer there and me, in the background, strapped across the hood of his car. But, it was Sunday morning and I figured if I got on the road early enough I could beat the churches letting out. (Christians will smash into you just as fast as the heathen hordes. Catholics are especially likely to hit you as they often have trouble seeing a bicycle past the St. Christopher statue they have mounted to their dash.)

As I pedaled along — and it was a beautiful morning with a lot of bicycles and joggers out — I happened across something that I thought had good blogging potential. As I approached a narrow cross street there was a woman jogger. She'd entered the road a bit and was jogging in place as she waited for traffic to pass and I couldn't help but think, "take a break, lady."

I am fully aware of how I look when I cycle. As a matter of fact the new shorts, with the better padding, make it look like I'm carrying a big, lumpy, load in my drawers if you catch me from the back (this photo has some underwear lines, too — a bonus for all the WADLL readers):

I accept this as the same shorts, from the front, give the impression I'm carrying if not a big, at least a pointy, load. The kind of load that I like to suppose would lead a woman to say to herself, "I wonder what that might feel like?":

Anyway. Cyclists are a colorful and well-padded lot and those of us who don't take ourselves too seriously realize we look just a bit goofy. And we do. (Except for the women who are all incredibly hot, and not in a human-furnace kind of way, in Lycra.)

So, there was the gal jogging in place in the road which led me to the "take a break" thought. And the reason I had that thought is that it looks odd. I know it's supposed to keep the muscles warm but, really, we're talking about jogging in place for ten seconds or so. How cold are the muscles likely to get? I don't pedal backwards at stoplights (I use this time to gasp for air).

As I pedaled along it occurred to me my real "issue" with this is that I knew a guy who was a royal asshole, know-it-all, egomaniac who, I was sure, jogged in place not so much to keep his muscles warm but to say to the world, "Look at me. I'm jogging in place." (You had to know the guy. He's the kind who'd wear cycling shorts to tell the world, "Look at me. I've got a pointy man-tool.")

And I decided to get over it. I mean, what's the harm in having women who are in pretty good shape jogging slow-motion like (in all their jiggly goodness) here and there. Hum some bad jazz or the theme to Baywatch and it wouldn't be hard to fill your drive to work with periodic snippets of soft-core porn. 

As I said earlier in this post I hit the road early to try to beat the post-church exodus. And I almost made it. As I was pedaling down Dublin Road (and composing this post in my mind — it's a lot funnier with a bit of oxygen deprivation working for you. Try holding your breath and rereading it and you'll see what I mean) I approached one of the Methodist Churches. There was a red SUV getting ready to pull out and, like I always do, I made eye contact with the driver. He looked at me, looked left, then right, and surely noticed there was no other traffic for as far as the eye could see. He then said, "Goddammit! I gotta get to the buffet! Fuck this guy."

At least that's what I think he said. It was the body language he sent when he pulled out short in front of me.

[Despite anything I've said here, I think Hilliard/Columbus is rather bicycle friendly. I rarely feel like I'm going to get hit and choose not to ride when I have the kids just in case. We have nice, wide streets, and I think people pull out in front of bicycles, as in the above case, because they can't understand how fast we might be going. You just need to be careful, like with anything else.]

Technorati Tags: Cycling, Drivers, Women

Posted by delmer at 12:59 PM | Comments (12)

May 24, 2008

Walk Like a Man Meme

I've been tagged by Emma at Eriepressible.

The Rules: You highlight the things you can do and you leave in normal type the things you can’t. And it’s a freakin’ free-for-all on snarky comments. Assign 2 other poor bastards to the task and the electronic equivalent of chain letters is complete. The only thing to do is to sit back and wait for my millions to be mailed to me.

1. Give advice that matters in one sentence. (Does 'butch up' count?) 
2. Tell if someone is lying. (Never. I believe everything I'm told.)
3. Take a photo.
4. Score a baseball game.
5. Name a book that matters.
6. Know at least one musical group as well as is possible.
7. Cook meat somewhere other than the grill. (I can boil and bake chicken)
8. Not monopolize the conversation.
9. Write a letter.
10. Buy a suit.
11. Swim three different strokes.
12. Show respect without being a suck-up.
13. Throw a punch.
14. Chop down a tree.
15. Calculate square footage.
16. Tie a bow tie.
17. Make one drink, in large batches, very well. (I used to make some kick-ass egg nog)
18. Speak a foreign language. (French well enough to order meals containing eggs and cheese. Je voudrais deux oeufs avec fromage)
19. Approach a woman out of his league.
20. Sew a button.
21. Argue with a European without getting xenophobic or insulting soccer.
22. Give a woman an orgasm so that he doesn’t have to ask after it.
23. Be loyal.
24. Know his poison, without standing there, pondering like a dope. (WTF does this mean?)
25. Drive an eightpenny nail into a treated two-by-four without thinking about it.
26. Cast a fishing rod without shrieking or sighing or otherwise admitting defeat.
27. Play gin with an old guy.
28. Play go fish with a kid.
29. Understand quantum physics well enough that he can accept that a quarter might, at some point, pass straight through the table when dropped.
30. Feign interest.
31. Make a bed.
32. Describe a glass of wine in one sentence without using the terms nutty, fruity, oaky, finish, or kick. ("I'm looking for the one with the naked girl on the bicycle on the label.")
33. Hit a jump shot in pool.
34. Dress a wound. (my own…I’m a klutz)
35. Jump-start a car (without any drama). Change a flat tire (safely). Change the oil. (Hell, I broke the steering lock once and hotwired a car. This other stuff is nothing.)
36. Make three different bets at a craps table.
37. Shuffle a deck of cards.
38. Tell a joke.
39. Know when to split his cards in blackjack.
40. Speak to an eight-year-old so he will hear.
41. Speak to a waiter so he will hear.
42. Talk to a dog so it will hear.
43. Install: a disposal, an electronic thermostat, or a lighting fixture without asking for help.
44. Ask for help.
45. Break another man’s grip on his wrist.
46. Tell a woman’s dress size. (They're all size threes.)
47. Recite one poem from memory. (There once was a man from Aras…)
48. Remove a stain.
49. Say no. (I'm just learning this one.)
50. Fry an egg sunny-side up.
51. Build a campfire.
52. Step into a job no one wants to do.
53. Sometimes, kick some ass. 
54. Break up a fight. (I have three boys. What do you think?)
55. Point to the north at any time.
56. Create a play-list in which ten seemingly random songs provide a secret message to one person.
57. Explain what a light-year is.
58. Avoid boredom.
59. Write a thank-you note.
60. Be brand loyal to at least one product. (Diet Pepsi.)
61. Cook bacon.
62. Hold a baby.
63. Deliver a eulogy.
64. Know that Christopher Columbus was a son of a bitch. Your understanding of your heroes must evolve.
65. Throw a baseball over-hand with some snap.
66. Throw a football with a tight spiral.
67. Shoot a 12-foot jump shot reliably. (I used to be able to crash the boards effectively if not prettily)
68. Find his way out of the woods if lost.
69. Tie a knot.
70. Shake hands.
71. Iron a shirt.
72. Stock an emergency bag for the car.
73. Caress a woman’s neck. 
74. Know some birds.
75. Negotiate a better price. (I can determine what a negotiator should be able to get a price down to, but I don't negotiate well. The ex was very good at this wearing salespeople down.)

Regular readers will recall I can't tag people, so I'll leave it to you to tag yourself.  

Technorati Tags: Bloggers, Memes

Posted by delmer at 4:40 PM | Comments (10)

May 23, 2008

Dreaming of Bloggers

The other night I had a dream about a fellow blogger. I've dreamed about other bloggers before so I can't say this is really out of the ordinary for me.

In this dream I was outside near some short bushes. I was brushing my teeth and had Avitable on the cell phone. The point of the dream seemed to be that even though I was brushing my teeth and was talking to Avitable, he couldn't tell I was brushing my teeth and I remember thinking I was doing a pretty good job of speaking clearly through the toothpaste.

Why, why, why?

I believe he made an appearance due to the fact I checked my calendar yesterday to see if I could make his Halloween party. (You know, I'm not even sure I'm invited; the blog entry about it made it sound like an open invitation but maybe I should check.)

As it happens, it is a child-free weekend for me.

Posted by delmer at 9:19 PM | Comments (10)

May 22, 2008

Dostinex / Cabergoline and Weight Loss

Once in a while someone will mail me and ask me about my experiences with pituitary tumors. They'll also, often, share their experiences. And this is all good as it makes me feel like I'm helping people, that they're interested in helping others, and that the blog has purpose.

This is a portion of something that came in the mail the other day:

I lost weight doing nothing [which was awesome, I used to weigh around 260 and got down to 235/230] …

It's a short snippet of a larger mail and the part that interested me the most. (The rest of the mail talked about changes the writer had noticed that would come with higher levels of testosterone.)

I started taking Dostinex in December of 2002 and began losing weight in January of 2003 without making any other lifestyle changes. I've just noticed my Hormone Table lacks weights for January through May but by June I was down 40 pounds.

Dostinex is an ergot-derived dopamine receptor agonists just like Fen-Phen,a weight loss drug that was pulled due to its link to heart-valve problems. The same heart-valve-problem link has been made to Dostinex (doses are typically very low and not thought to need to be worried over) but I don't know that the same weight-loss characteristic has been applied to it. And I honestly don't remember how Fen-Phen was supposed to work. When my endocrinologist and I talked about my weight loss he remarked that Dostinex didn't have any known weight-loss properties (also at that time the heart-valve problem had not come to light.)

[I remember from college Botany that ergot fungi, which gets into wheat, can give a person hallucinations much like LSD. One theory is that ergot fungi played a role in the Salem witch trials. I was watching Quincy, once in college, and as he was working through a problem in his case I yelled out, "It's ergo fungi!" And it was, which greatly impressed the girls around me, but not to the point they felt they needed to cuddle me.]

I've drifted.

I've often wondered about my weight loss. It always seemed related to Dostinex and hormones somehow — I tried to lose weight and couldn't then I started Dostinex and it came off me with very little effort (and certainly less effort than when I was trying and getting nowhere) — but, you know, I'm a sample of one and it's always good to increase the sample size.

It provides a bit more validation.

[I'm not saying it was Dostinex that caused the weight loss. My guess would be more the change in hormones. But I don't know.]

Technorati Tags: Hormones, Pituitary, Prolactin, Tumor, Testosterone

Posted by delmer at 2:47 PM | Comments (6)

May 21, 2008

When your friends know you too well

I was on the phone the other day with a friend who happens to be a woman. It was a warm day, she'd been working in her yard and had worked up a sweat.

"I've got all this work to do in the yard and I can't wear a tank top," she modestly complained. "I'm hot enough to wear a tank top ..."

"Wuh ..." I started.

"I mean in a human-furnace sort of way," she said, cutting me off as she assumed I was on my way to saying, "Well, that goes without saying." 

And I was.

Her neighbors are having some work done on their house and she didn't want to be outside falling out of a tank top and being ogled.

To beat the heat she decided to suds up her car in a bikini while blasting the soundtrack to Boogie Nights.

Technorati Tags: Friends, Women

Posted by delmer at 3:29 PM | Comments (4)

May 20, 2008

Oil

The minivan — you admired it's sweetness in yesterday's post — had recently developed an oil leak as evidenced by two stains it had dropped on the drive.

And that made me sad. I'm not a terribly big fan of having oil stains on my driveway nor am I a terribly big fan of paying to have gaskets replaced. Especially as I do so very little driving.

So I did what any man would do: I spread some mulch over a spot in the driveway and parked on it all the time.

And I never missed. There was no more staining. Even when I goofed up and parked the non-engine part of the van over the mulch such was the power of this magnificent idea that oil failed to drip on the concrete.

Then I developed another idea: Maybe it never was the minivan that was leaky — maybe it was the ex's car. The leaks quit appearing not long after I pissed her off and her visits became less frequent and when she did visit she was so cold that I'm certain her coldness permeated her auto and caused her oil to thicken to a non-drippy state. I really want to work the phrase "oil's bitchcosity" in there somewhere for the sake of humor, but it sounds sort of mean.

Anyway, the oil stains quit appearing and that was all that was important.

Saturday, on the way to Home Depot, my oil light flashed and the warning dinger dinged as I made a turn. It hadn't seemed like that long ago that I'd checked the oil but, well, time sort of slips by me and it could have been decades.

When I got home I pulled out a quart of oil, threw up the hood, and went to remove the oil-fill cap. Naturally, it was gone.

This would not be the first time this had happened to me as I sometimes forget to put the oil cap back on. It happened several times in the Nissan, but that car was always kind enough to spew oil all over the engine compartment which caused big billowing clouds of gray smoke to rush form from the hood seams to make me aware of my misadventure. This typically happened at the McDonald's drive thru.

The minivan, being less flashy, took a more subdued approach. It merely dropped warning leaks on the driveway up to the point it determined I was unlikely to put the hood up for a look-around.

As I stood there, hood up, filler cap gone, and scratching myself, I had a brief moment of rat's, I'll have to buy a new filler cap panic before noticing the cap sitting on the part of the engine compartment next to the latching mechanism. I could tell by a pattern on the cap bottom, which was facing up and at me, that wedging and not luck had kept the cap from rolling from its perch and onto the highway. (An oil stain on the underside of the hood confirmed this further.)

I oiled the minivan, gave it a loving pat on the hood as I closed it, swept up my mulch and had a congratulatory Diet Coke for a job well done.

Posted by delmer at 2:09 PM | Comments (9)

May 19, 2008

A video blog

This video is too long. The sound is bad in most places. I say "Mays" when I mean "May" (as in James). My hair starts out wet and goes to scattered by the wind. I chopped out the bit where I introduce lunch. You can't see the dog in the minivan. The reference to my ex-wife puzzles even me. The part where I'm suiting up in my Red White and Blue jersey is all about a crack about myself that is hard to hear. At the end I'm telling you that in the middle of a 25-mile ride you get ice cream; in cases of high wind that cut things to 15 miles you get Corona.

Mostly what is wrong is that I look so incredibly old and like I need a good moisturizer.

Oh, and I sound like a hillbilly.

It is something new and different though. Originally it was going to be my Saturday in two minutes. It became my weekend in seven minutes. And none of the gardening stuff is in there.

Technorati Tags: Cycling, Video

Posted by delmer at 4:19 PM | Comments (14)

May 18, 2008

Poor bicycling etiquette

Let me start by saying that I did a bad bicycle thing today. I broke a rule; that's out of character for me (see my Ink Blot posts).

I was in traffic and stopped at a light. Not too far ahead of me something had developed that looked like it would provide a good opportunity for one of the nearby drivers to smash into me and I got a bad feeling. I'm not one to believe in bad feelings but, you know, you don't want to end up bashed into and left thinking, if only I'd followed my gut. (Which we all do anyway simply due to the way we're assembled.)

So, I cut into a driveway. Normally when I do things like this I stop and pretend to tweak something on the bike or empty something out of my shoe. I don't want to make it look like I'm trying to gain a traffic advantage of any sort.

This time I took to the driveway and as I cut by the obstacle thought "screw it" and got back into traffic. (I was on my way to interact with someone I've been interacting with too much lately and may not have had the clearest mind working. Despite my stupidity, I want some bonus for taking my bike and not my minivan.)

A moment after I got back in traffic, in the curb lane, an SUV passed me in the second lane. The passenger was hanging out and yelling at me. He was very colorful but most of what he said involved how the same traffic rules that apply to autos apply to me too.

You may recall that I'm not big on having people yell at me from passing autos and I sometimes chase them down. This guy needed chased I thought — for he was right and I wanted to apologize and let him know I knew he was right.

So I started to do the math on the distance involved and decided I'd catch him at the next light which had just turned red.

And then the driver of the SUV ran it.

Yes. As the guy is hanging out the window and yelling telling me that the same traffic laws that apply to autos apply to me the driver of the SUV he's in ran a red light. And I don't mean accidentally ran it, like it was close and he'd had a brain fart over whether he had time to stop. He was tailgating the guy ahead of him who'd had to creep through the light due to the traffic. It wasn't like yellow-then-red when the guy went through; it was red the whole time.

I might have been able to catch them at the light after that but I didn't want to break up the tongue lashing the passenger was probably giving the driver about how the same rules that apply to bicycles apply to SUVs.

[All kidding aside, I was at fault. When I took to the sidewalk I'd been stopped at a light and I cut around it.]

Technorati Tags: Cycling, Drivers

Posted by delmer at 10:17 PM | Comments (6)

May 16, 2008

Iron Man

The boys and I went to see Iron Man this past Sunday. The movie was very good and I'll certainly see it again.

On Wednesday someone mentioned that a funnel cloud could be seen from Walcutt and Roberts, which is about 4 miles driving from the movie theater and a bit closer by the path a tornado would take. I'm not concerned or anything about this, I'm just amazed that we could have had such bad weather and it took three days for me to find out about it.

The reason I'm posting this is that during Iron Man I teared up twice. Once I could actually feel my jaw get wobbly before the tears came on.

Did this happen to anybody else? And where. 

I've hidden the part that made me cry in the extended entry as it may be a spoiler for those of you who haven't seen the show yet.

[Ah. This post is also a test of the timestamp problem I was having. I re-upgraded my posting software to see if that was the problem. And it was.]

Technorati Tags: Movies, Crying

I teared up during the scene in the village when the men were being separated from their families; mothers and children were being loaded into trucks and the men, I think, were being lined up against the wall. (I'm getting misty typing about this…. it was a frikkin' movie!) One father breaks away and goes for his son. The bad guys drag them apart and start beating on the dad. Just as they are about to shoot him Iron Man shows up and kicks some ass. The father and son run toward each other, hug, my jaw went weak and I teared up.

The second time was just a few minutes later when Iron Man accidentally takes the wing off a fighter jet. The pilot ejects, is plummeting toward the earth, and can't activate his parachute. As Iron Man saved him I teared up.

I also cried a bit during that movie the kids and I went to see last fall. It was based on a book that Jack had read. A little girl died in it.

Also during The Incredibles. Which, of course, was animated.

Posted by delmer at 9:24 PM | Comments (10)

May 15, 2008

National Bike Month

May is National Bike Month. It's halfway over and I just found out.

I started the month off well enough by buying a new bike (and, soon, I'll go on about it more) and then sort of dropped the ball. Not by design, things just happened; and, like I said, I didn't even know about National Bike Month until just the other day.

This past week was Bike to Work Week. It was also a week I had the boys and with boys come things like stinky shoes and midday trips to school to take care of things. Yesterday was the only day I could have ridden and it was rainy or rainy looking. If I ride today (which is Bike to Work Day), and I'll post this at midnight and won't know by then, I'll have to take the boys to school then go home and get the bike and start my ride then.

I really want to ride as I need to get some more time on the bike as I don't think it's fitted to me the way it should be just yet and tomorrow evening would be a good time to take it to the shop. I'd like to try for a 50-mile ride on Saturday.

Bicycle Magazine just had an article on the best biking cities in the nation and I took a look to see if Columbus was listed; I think the area is fairly bicycle friendly. We weren't in the top 10 but did receive an honorable mention. The most exciting thing about this for the city, I think, is that Columbus was mentioned as simply Columbus not Columbus, Ohio; and Columbus so dearly wants to be a one-name entity… like Cleveland, Cincinnati, Boston and Cher.

I read about National Bike Month in The Other Paper and they were kind enough to mention in their article that bicycles have just as much right on the road as autos. I'm not sure that drivers are always aware of that. (I also found out I'm saving Columbus. Well, Hilliard I guess. And I think there's a good bit of BS there.)

(As I say above I live in Hilliard which rubs up against Columbus' backside like an intoxicated prom date so my bicycle-friendliness feeling may be misplaced. One Letter to the Editor, written to The Other Paper in response to their Bike Month piece, mentioned getting discouraging yells from drivers; his wife had the same experience. Maybe he should chase them down.) 

Technorati Tags: Columbus, Cycling

Posted by delmer at 11:32 PM | Comments (2)

Oooh, that smell

Since this past Friday night I've been trying to track down a smell in the house that seemed to be focused around Haydn, my eldest. Each time I'd walk into the living room I'd be hit by a smell that could only be described as bad in a puzzling sort of way.

Haydn assured me he didn't need a bath — but boys are like that.

Finally, tired of the smell I made him shower.

The smell was back Saturday and Sunday. Sometimes it moved to the kitchen which made me wonder if I'd left something in the dishwasher or garbage disposal or trash can. Nothing turned up bad.

Back in the living room I started smelling on the various throws I have. Nothing came up rank.

The smell was so bad I wondered how it managed to remain as elusive as it was and how it was it moved around.

Last night it was back right next to Haydn and I thought it might be a bag he had sitting next to him. As I leaned forward to pick up the bag the smell hit me even harder. Looking down I noticed Haydn's shoes.

Now that I know what the smell is I've upgraded it from "bad in a puzzling sort of way" to "incredibly impressive" as to get that kind of funk out of a pair of shoes is an amazing piece of work.

I tossed the shoes in the washing machine and set the water to super-hot. I poured in some deodorizer, some Cheer, a bit of bleach and then the shoes that I'd pretreated.

This morning the shoes had the fresh smell of a warm Spring day. 

Technorati Tags: Smells

Posted by delmer at 2:41 PM | Comments (3)

May 14, 2008

Ink Blot - Interpersonal Perception

We now continue with bits of my recent Rorschach test. My comments are in whatever color this is.  

Be sure to read the Rorschach Info blurb (Disclaimer) or my less-formal explanation before continuing. 

INTERPERSONAL PERCEPTION 

Suspiciousness: 

• You appear to be as trusting as most people.
• You are extremely alert and attentive to things around you, trying hard to put together all you take in.

As Paden said in Silverado, "I always figure you might as well approach life like everybody's your friend or nobody is." Of course he ended up on the wrong end of four guns and left in his long johns in the desert. But really, it is easier, and a time saver, to trust people. And, again, this only applies to situations not involving my children.  

As for the "alert and attentive." You've seen the picture. I'm a damned Ninja. 

Defensiveness: 

• You try to notice and pay attention to as much as you can so you can feel more prepared to handle unexpected things or situations.
• You stay distant from people and prefer not to get too emotionally involved in order to avoid uncomfortable social situations.

Yes, yes yes. I'm working on this last item. I'm learning uncomfortable situations aren't always as bad as I thought they might be. 

Interpersonal Relationships: 

• Activities with other people and personal relationships do not appear to be very important to you. For this reason, you probably are not actively sought out by others.
• Your dealings with people may be based more on your general biases and expectations than on your actual experiences with individuals.
• You relate to some people not so much for who they really are but for who you would like them to be
• You tend to form opinions and make judgments about people by looking at only a few specific characteristics, but you miss their other characteristics.
• When you are stressed, you tend not to expect nor accept comfort or support from others, relying more on your own abilities to cope.

I have been hermit-like these past several years. The hormone problem sort of put me in a "bleh" state of mind and divorce is never fun. So, I've sort of stuck to myself and the weeks I don't have the boys do things I can do alone. I'm taking steps to be better but, honestly, most of it was not wanting to bother people. Or something else; who knows?  

As for not being sought out by people to do anything… I don't know a lot of people who can do anything. We've all got kids. And I'm not one to go to a bar to watch a game and drink beer on a regular basis. There's a group of us that tries, the last Friday of the month, to go out for a piss-up (one of the guys is a Brit); we don't always make it. If people call me to ride the bike, I'm on it. 

Items two, three and four strike me odd. I grew up running around with a group of guys that accepted everybody and that's how I am today, but then, I'm not sure those are exclusionary bullet points. I'm going to fall back on the thought that everybody is good until they prove otherwise. I'm not saying it's the best way to go, but it's the one I've made use of for years, and most time it pays off.  

As for the last bullet point, it is certainly me. I am happy to hear people's problems all day and acknowledge that their talking about them makes them feel better (from a venting and getting-a-different-perspective standpoint) and that I may actually be able to help them out by providing support and possibly additional insight. However, I don't always like to bother other people with my problems; I'm trying to change this too. 

Technorati Tags: Ink Blot, Rorschach

Posted by delmer at 7:23 AM | Comments (7)

May 13, 2008

Ink Blot - Self Perception

We now continue with bits of my recent Rorschach test. My comments are in whatever color this is.  

Be sure to read the Rorschach Info blurb (Disclaimer) or my less-formal explanation before continuing. 

SELF PERCEPTION 

Self Esteem: 

• You often think of yourself in black or white terms. You may have an overly positive view of your abilities and think you are able to do anything well, or you may have a very negative view of yourself and believe that nothing you do is worthy.
• You have a healthy and positive sense of self-confidence.

I honestly think that with the proper training I can do almost anything, but I think that about everybody. This isn't to say that I don't recognize when things are way out of my league — I don't know that I have the brainpower to be a nuclear physicist. Oh, and I can't really draw or do arty stuff. And it takes a special sort of person to be a concert pianist. And there are any host of other things I know are beyond me. And I don't know that I'd make a good salesman — I'll give you something before I try to sell it to you. 

I'm not sure that I think that nothing I do is worthy, but I do think that anything I can anybody else can do it as well. I mean, if I can do it, how hard can it be? (As I typed that realized it might be an indication that I think nothing I do is worthy.) 

As for the positive sense of self-confidence, I do think I'm a wonderful human being and a nice guy. I try not to do things that will lead me to feeling regretful. I think I'm always aware of my motives; as they are uncommonly harmless I chug through life Richie-Cunningham like.  

I lack anything approaching confidence when it comes to women. I seem to be getting better. (An alternate line for this bit was: I lack anything in the way of confidence when it comes to women and can think of a thousand reasons for them to reject me; gals … everyone of them makes you seem rather petty. Which, of course is a joke — my oddball problems are mine alone — but I wasn't sure how it would play. And while I left it out of the main text, I couldn't help but include it for fun.)  

Introspection: 

• You usually make some effort to examine both the positive and negative features you see in yourself. This enables you to maintain better perspective on yourself and to gain self-understanding.
• You have the ability and flexibility to make changes in the way you see yourself and to take on new attitudes about yourself.

This has a positive sound to it, doesn't it?  

Not long ago my approach was, with some exceptions and the interpersonal formula I used was too convoluted to explain, to leave people alone as I figured they didn't want to be bothered. Recently I've moved more toward talking to everybody, which is how I used to be. So far nobody's thrown an elbow into my side — and if they did I'd probably just flashback to playing basket ball with my buddies. 

Technorati Tags: Ink Blot, Rorschach

Posted by delmer at 12:05 AM | Comments (0)

May 11, 2008

I wanna be like you-oo-oo

Haydn played King Louie in the eighth-grade version of Jungle Book. I grabbed the camera I normally take biking with me as I'd forgotten one of its problems is that it won't read memory cards.

So, I only had enough time to catch a snippet of Haydn's song.

You can't tell from the video but the boy is wearing the biggest smile. He's truly a ham.

Technorati Tags: Acting

Posted by delmer at 4:39 PM | Comments (8)

Ink Blot - More Perpetual Accuracy

We now continue with bits of my recent Rorschach test. My comments are in whatever color this is.  

Be sure to read the Rorschach Info blurb (Disclaimer) or my less-formal explanation before continuing. 

This falls under the heading of Thought Processing with the subheading Perpetual Accuracy and should have been part of an earlier post. 

Thought Processing 

Perpetual Accuracy (cont.) 

• Your way of seeing the world is about the same as most people's. Consequently, you behave and think in expected ways about as much as others do.
• You see things differently than most people do, so you behave and think in unexpected ways more often than others.

This is another one I should have asked about. I see the world the same but things differently? I behave and think in expected and unexpected ways? 

Thought Organization: 

• You prefer to think about problems, gather information, and then come up with clear, logical possible solutions. You then make independent decisions and act on reasonable grounds. To avoid making mistakes, you do not like to jump to conclusions.
• Most often, you keep your feelings out of problem solving. As a consequence, attempts to influence you emotionally are not very effective.
• Pressures you feel from your own needs and from external demands do not seem to bother you very much. They do not appear to interfere with your thinking and may simply alert you to what else needs your attention.
• Current worries or problems with other people appear to be disrupting and distorting your views and thoughts about people and relationships.

The first three points don't sound too bad. 

As I consider relationship things I see them all the way through to failure as I'm certain I'll never get married again and that's sort of a hard sell, isn't it?  

This is not to say I'm unhappy as I've come to realize I'm really a pretty happy person. 

Technorati Tags: Ink Blot, Rorschach

Posted by delmer at 9:49 AM | Comments (0)

In which I clarify the previous post.

I was vague and a bit unclear earlier when I said:

As for simple facts, I don't see what the problem with that is. Just the other day I had a conversation with a woman in which three unhappy things had come to her family and as she told me about them all I could think of was the simple fact that had she not been sleeping with a married man none of it would have happened. Had she paid attention to what is socially correct, conventional or expected she'd have been better off. 

I was not trying to say that bad things happen to people due to the things they do. That would make me Pat-Robertson like.

One of the bad things that happened to this woman was that the wife of the guy she was carrying on with caught the couple as they were going away for the weekend. This caused the woman some embarrassment in the middle of the street.

Had she not been banging a married guy this would not have happened.

The other two things that befell her were similar… because some people never learn. And eventually children get dragged into it despite their innocence.

Technorati Tags: Ink Blot, Rorschach

Posted by delmer at 1:15 AM | Comments (1)

May 10, 2008

Ink Blot - Thought Processing

We now continue with bits of my recent Rorschach test. My comments are in whatever color this is.  

Be sure to read the Rorschach Info blurb (Disclaimer) or my less-formal explanation before continuing. 

THOUGHT PROCESSING 

Processing of Information: 

• You spend a great deal of time and energy gathering and putting together information about situations before acting. Rather than taking risks, you want to consider things very thoroughly. If something requires much attention and concentration, this is an asset. If it does not, your cautious and perfectionistic approach can cause you to waste time and energy, put off making decisions, and delay taking needed action.
• Your style of dealing with problems by focusing mainly on the simple facts keeps you from recognizing or experiencing problems with emotions, relationships, or friendships.
• You often pay attention to what is socially correct, conventional or expected.

Regarding the first item I've already stated I'm aware of it and taking steps to correct it. Today, for example, rather than spend too much time agonizing over the minute details of two items I needed to buy I quickly listed the features I wanted and made the purchases. Early in the process I recognized that almost anything I bought would meet far more than the minimum requirements… so why agonize too much? 

As for simple facts, I don't see what the problem with that is. Just the other day I had a conversation with a woman in which three unhappy things had come to her family and as she told me about them all I could think of was the simple fact that had she not been sleeping with a married man none of it would have happened. Had she paid attention to what is socially correct, conventional or expected she'd have been better off. 

Mostly, I try not to do things that will haunt me for the rest of my life. As luck would have it sticking to those things are socially correct, conventional and expected keep me from feeling too bad about myself. 

Motivation: 

• You seem willing to think about complex information that you take in to the same degree as most people. You appear to set realistic goals which you can achieve.
• The conclusions you draw from your efforts to understand and assemble information are usually as complex, developed, and mature as most.
• Typically you do not let your feelings have much impact on your decision making and judgments.

Sometimes I let my feelings for my kids impact my decision making as I will give in to things they want (do I need to provide a link to the $110 Nike Shox?).  

Perceptual Accuracy: This is a measure of how well people usually see the world, especially when things are somewhat ambiguous, as our world often is. If most other people would not easily be able to see what you see, you would be said to have a "distorted' view or perception because others can't see it the way you do. If most others would easily be able to share your view if they tried, your perception would be called "more accurate". We all distort a little because everyone is unique, but too much distortion causes problems. We can learn to perceive more realistically. Another way that people differ is in how uniquely they view things, ranging from seeing the world in very conventional ways to seeing it in very different or unusual ways.

• You distort reality or misunderstand situations somewhat more than the average person. Seeing things inaccurately to this extent can lead to behavior that is less effective and less appropriate.
• Your distortions or misunderstandings of things around you may not occur often enough to lead to serious problems in everyday living.

This one made me "eek" when I read it as I read too much into the word distort and took it all the way to delusional.  

While I wonder about how smart it might be (the appropriateness) to post the results of an Ink Blot test, and have wonderings about whether or not my distortions might keep me from accurately interpreting this item the things I think it applies to might be called a naive outlook on life. I like to think most people are good and have good intentions. I, unfortunately, believe everything I'm told. I'll assume someone has made a mistake before I think they're trying to screw me. I'm suspicious of very few people. I think people like me when they meet me.  

I'll give you something before I try to sell you something. I'll lend a hand whenever I can; I won't ask anybody else for help because I don't want to bother them (that is, I am not bothered by people asking me for help, but I don't want to bother them … I think this is an odd way to think). 

There have been times when people have suggested something that has left me curious about how they could possibly think what they are thinking as it seemed, while possible, the least likely and less flattering of two possible explanations. Maybe most people follow that path. 

I also think people want to be left alone and, until recently, haven't gone out of my way to trouble people with my presence. I wasn't always like this and I'm working on it as well. 

Oh, before I sound to insanely trusting: With things involving my children I have a healthy suspicion of everyone. 

[I could be way off base with all this. I know it. To refer to Gary Larson cartoon, I could be "just plain nuts."] 

Technorati Tags: Ink Blot, Rorschach

Posted by delmer at 8:00 AM | Comments (6)

May 9, 2008

Ink Blot - Controls

We now continue with bits of my recent Rorschach test. My comments are in whatever color this is.  

Be sure to read the Rorschach Info blurb (Disclaimer) or my less-formal explanation before continuing. 

CONTROLS 

Emotional Constraint: 
 

• There is no evidence that you are holding in bottled-up feelings.

Maybe this explains why I sleep as well as I do. Especially when you consider I sometimes drink Diet Coke right up until bedtime.
 

Emotional Control: 

• You appear not to be dealing with your feelings. Not managing emotions can lead to other problems.
• You typically have average control of your feelings. However, chronic or intense stress can cause control problems.
• You prefer to very strongly control your feelings, trying not to express them in everyday situations.
• Your strong attention to what is socially correct acts as a guideline for controlling your emotions.
• Often dealing with feelings by avoiding or withdrawing from situations, you are not likely to become emotionally stirred up unless you are strongly provoked.

This is confusing to me. I'm not holding in bottled-up feelings, but I'm not dealing with my feelings.  

I am, typically, very calm. But honestly, if you were on a plane that was plunging into the sea wouldn't you rather be sitting by someone who had thought everything through and was calmly considering his fate rather than a screaming maniac? I'd be willing to try to make it to the cockpit to try to fly the jet while the screamer would be screaming, making life hell for everybody else, and eating more than her share of the peanuts. 

As for my strong attention to what is socially correct, well, not long ago (and tonight, again) I couldn't help but think that punching a certain person in the noggin would probably not do anybody (but me) any good. Tonight I took a different approach and openly talked about what was bothering me with the person — some of the words we used, while not impolite, seemed to bother him in the setting we were in. I had no such problem with the words used (which you can hear in churches all across the world every Sunday) and have decided I will address our differences each and every time we meet just so he knows I'm okay with what troubles me. I must admit I was surprised by the discomfort shown as I've been assured nobody has any shame regarding the issue of which I so vaguely speak. 

Historically speaking I'm slow to anger. And I get over what troubles me rather quickly. There are people who have known me since high school that have never seen me angry and I honestly think this is due to the fact I can see the larger picture. Some just aren't worth getting worked up about. 

I am aware that I have other issues that stray outside the slow-to-anger category and I'm working on those. 

Ego Strength: This is a general estimate of how much stress you can take before it becomes too much for you to handle. It does not measure how wisely you deal with stress nor how healthy your methods are. Ego strength just suggests how  well your methods can keep you from becoming overwhelmed or non-functional under certain degrees of stress. Some  people have very high ego strength and are not easily overwhelmed but their methods create many other problems. Others with low ego strength can become distraught easily but do quite well by keeping their stress level down. Ego strength can  be built up.
 

• If you did not have your current stress, you would be handling ordinary stress about the same as most people, although unusual, unexpected, or prolonged stress may disrupt you as it would anyone.
• At this time, you appear to be handling stress about as well as you usually do.

I'm handling stress about as well as I usually do? When I have ordinary stress and not the stress I currently have?  

I should have asked for some more clarification on this. I believe I have less stress than I had last year. 

Technorati Tags: Ink Blot, Rorschach

Posted by delmer at 8:21 PM | Comments (0)

Ink Blot - Well, Rats!

The text beneath "Emotional Receptivity" got deleted from yesterday's post as I edited and re-edited everything trying to get the bullets to align left (in Internet Explorer). It is reprinted below for your reading enjoyment.

This is from the first bit of my recent Rorschach test. My comments are in whatever color this is.  

Be sure to read the Rorschach Info blurb (Disclaimer) or my less-formal explanation before continuing. 

Emotional Receptivity: 

• You are extremely unlikely or unable to respond to or be affected by complex or intense emotion. Your strong avoidance of feelings may be a result of bad experiences with them.
• When dealing with problems, you prefer to remain reserved, subdued and thoughtful in the midst of strong emotional experiences.  

While this may be true, my ability to render people unconscious with a simple pinch to the shoulder is a big hit at parties. And nothing gets chicks in the mood for a little Pon Farr like a mind meld. 

(Yes. I'm working on this too.) 

Due to the deletion of some of the text my clever, by my standards, references to all things Vulcan may have seemed lost. (Neshuk thuhrd is Vulcan for the words Ink and Blotch. I'm not sure the words together don't form some sort of idiomatic phrase with an entirely different meaning; dictionaries comprised of words from make-believe science fiction series only take you so far.)

Technorati Tags: Ink Blot, Rorschach

Posted by delmer at 4:25 PM | Comments (0)

May 8, 2008

Ink Blot - neshuk thuhrd

This is from the first bit of my recent Rorschach test. My comments are in whatever color this is.  

Be sure to read the Rorschach Info blurb (Disclaimer) or my less-formal explanation before continuing. 

Let the fun begin.  

Situational Stress 

• Whatever current stress may be present in your life, you seem to be able to handle it.
• You are about as aware of stress in your life as most people are.

This sounds pretty good, doesn't it. I don't typically feel stressed and it's nice to know that I'm about as aware of the stress I have as the average person is about his or hers. If nothing else I always strive to be average.  

Emotionality 

Ongoing Depression 

• The test did not detect indications of long-term depression. If you experience symptoms of depression, they may be reactions to temporary situations rather than to long-standing personality characteristics.

The interesting thing about depression is just how all-encompassing it is. I've been separated/divorced for about four years and the whole thing was pretty rough. Every so often I'd have depressed spells and each time I had one it felt like this is all life is. It was suffocating and it felt like I was depressed all the time. And it never failed, I was never depressed when I was with my therapist and wanting to tell her about it. So, I started keeping track of my depression and found that great periods of time would pass — four, six, eight weeks — between depressed spells. And, they were lasting for short periods of time; about a day.   AND, AND, AND, when they were over I had trouble remembering just how bad they were; I felt like I was never depressed. 

When I get depressed now I know I'll be better tomorrow or sooner (Ted Nugent albums pick me up pretty quick). Even though I know this they still suck and have that this-is-all-life-is feel even though I know it isn't. If it wasn't for the life-suckiness of the whole thing it would be an interesting event.  

I'm typically only depressed when I'm by myself. And more and more infrequently these days. 

Situational Depression 

• Stress does not appear to be making you feel depressed.

Nope. Not stress. 

Coping Style: People usually learn habits that help them deal with new and unfamiliar situations and problems. Those habits are called a "coping style." Having a well developed coping style to rely on helps people more efficiently solve problems both in the world and in themselves. Like many habits, we can change how we approach problems.

• Your coping style is one in which you prefer to deal with problems thoughtfully to decide how to solve them before actually taking action. While you may seek information from others, you weigh the options on your own. This may make you less distracted by others and less influenced by what authority figures have to say.
• When solving a problem, you tend to make a decision or take action only after thoroughly thinking about all the available information.
• The degree to which you adhere to this style makes your approach to problems less flexible.
• This can be limiting when different kinds of problems require more of a "thinking" or a "feeling" way of handling them.
.

I, as mentioned in an earlier blog entry, sometimes take too long to make decisions as I always want to have just a little more information; the doc called this "overincorporation."  This is something I've known about me for a while and that I'm trying to fix. An example is when I was rolling out a new e-mail server. The solution was a pretty good one but I knew if I did x it would be better and doing y would make it better still. Doing x and y were dragging things out and in the end had to be dropped and added later — so, the users got the same thing they were going to get originally (which they were happy with) and I missed my (self-imposed) roll-out date. Yesterday I was looking at new laser printers and found myself getting caught up in things; I finally said f*ck it! I'm getting that one. 

I'm aware of how my problem-solving skills sort of fall down when it comes to problems that require "thinking" and "feeling." The doc said this is something I could work on with the regular therapy person I see.   

Technorati Tags: Ink Blot, Rorschach

Posted by delmer at 10:40 PM | Comments (7)

Ink Blot Disclaimer

This is the professional explanation of how the Rorschach works. Just in case I was unclear yesterday. 

This feedback checklist can help you begin to review some of the Rorschach test findings with the test administrator. Each item listed below is the test's `best guess" about some of your personality characteristics. These `guesses' appear here because some of your answers to the test are very similar to those of people who have taken the test before and whose personality is known from other information. Often, that enables the test to describe most people fairly well but some statements are not entirely accurate for everyone. To decide which statements describe you best, you and the person reviewing the test with you need to take into account a great deal of additional information about you and your particular circumstances. Because the test has no specific knowledge of you as a unique person, your input is very much needed. To help us make best use of the results, after you read an item, circle `1" if you strongly agree with the item or "2' if you generally agree. If you generally disagree, circle "4", and if you strongl~rdisagree, circle "5". Circle "?" if you have any questions at all about the item or if you can't quite decide whether it fits you or not. Your reactions will help put together a much more personalized and accurate description of who you are. In addition, the test administrator can offer more detailed and technical information from the test and other sources which may contribute to a better overall understanding. There are many implications that can be drawn from the test by thinking about how items in one section may effect the meaning of items in another section. More understanding most often helps people know how they can make the changes they want. 

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Posted by delmer at 5:52 PM | Comments (0)

May 7, 2008

The Ink Blot Test

Just over a week ago I met with a Psychologist to go over some psychological testing I'd had done. Without getting into all the details of the "whys" I'll just say the doc was checking for ADD.

As it happens, I don't have ADD or any other cognitive dysfunction (a word I'm not keen on when it is applied to cognitive things). It would appear that any time I come out of a meeting wondering what the hell had just been said it's more a reflection of the boring nature of the meeting than a hardwired reaction on my part.

I'll bet you've all been in meetings like that. And if you haven't you've probably run meetings like that.

At one point during the testing I was given an Ink Blot test (sometimes called a Horshack Test after the beloved Arnold Horshack of Welcome Back Kotter fame). 

The only time I've ever seen an Ink Blot test has been on TV sitcoms and they are rarely portrayed as anything to take seriously. To make it even more challenging I knew that it was going to take every ounce of self-control to not say two ducks kissing for every blot that came my way.

I did my best and I saw things like:

• Two elephants balanced with their backs to each other
• Some Native American art
• My ex wife with a butcher's knife
• Pat Robertson
• Two little girls giving each other a peck on the lips
• Sea horses
• A frog skeleton (Hello my honey, hello my baby, hello my ragtime gal ...)

And you likely know I made up the stuff about my ex-wife and Pat Robertson. If not, shame on you; especially if you've been here more than twice.

A couple of Fridays ago the doc and I got together to go over the results of my testing. He told me the part about not having ADD and I took the lack of law enforcement officials milling about as an indication that he didn't consider me a danger to myself or others.

He handed me some papers and told me they were the results of the Rorshack. There were four pages of statements about me and each statement was numbered 1 2 ? 4 5; I was to circle 1 if I agreed with the statement, 5 if I disagreed, the question mark if I had questions and the 2 or 4 if I wanted to continue in Spanish. No, wait, 2 or 4 if I agreed or disagreed somewhat.

There are things I've thought I've known about me that I could never be sure of because I am the only thing I have to compare me against. I'm a sample of one.

They aren't good or bad things. They're just the way I am.

What I think is even better. There are things I think, that I'm not even sure I believe. I can't come up with an example right now, but this is just a draft. (And as I go to publish it I'm still lost for an example.)

Anyway the Rorschach is scored by taking the images I saw and matching those images with other people that saw the same thing. Then, the known psychological attributes about those people are taken and applied to me. For example, if 10 guys were to have seen my ex with a butcher's knife, well, that's not really a good example. If 100 people had seen, and this is just an example, Seahorses on one particular blot and all (or a percentage, I don't know) had similar ways of dealing with their emotions then that characteristic would have been applied to me.

Tomorrow we'll start taking a look at the results.

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Posted by delmer at 3:27 PM | Comments (13)

May 6, 2008

Tequilacon 2008 - More

I sort of jumped ahead with yesterday's story of Tequilacon and during that jumping-aheadness made a mental note to come back and mention something I thought was pretty important. And I'll be damned if I can remember what it was.

So let's make a quick stop to the night before as there is something I forgot to say about that.

As you know I see a therapy person who is helping me to overcome my fear of using stainless steel cutlery. And while that's not really why I see her it's close enough for the blog and will keep the other Tequilacon attendees from forming any damn-that-was-close worries. Anyway, a group of us were sitting around on Friday and I felt the need to say, "my therapist" before I gave a  thought to what this might suggest to people. I didn't want anybody to worry for or feel sorry for me.

Pausing, I asked, "Is anybody else here seeing a therapist?"

About 80% of the hands went up. (And I think we all felt worry and sorrow for the 20% who were therapist-free.)

Moving forward to Saturday…

All of the Tequilacon attendees were presented with lanyards that had been beautifully designed and artfully crafted by Dave. Those of us with sufficiently low Dave Numbers were also presented with buttons (that look way better than my poor photography indicates).

Other swag included condoms packaged with Avitable's likeness and a lovely kitchen magnet from the lovely Miss Britt. I also have a CD of Tequilacon songs that Jen handed to me, but I'm fuzzy on who put the compilation together. (It was late in the evening and I'd had more than one Brooklyn Brown Ale in me.)

I took an Ohio State University shirt that I gave to Jen (for her masterful work in keeping the TC list) and for Dave I took an OSU shirt, OSU lunch bag, and a Scarlet and Gray Magic Scarf (that is apparently so magicky, so scarfy and so well known that not only does it have a website but when I mentioned I'd given it to Dave both Greeneyezz and Hilly* said, "You mean the one that ... etc.)"

[*Please note that where I say "Hilly" in the above paragraph, it could have been Hello Haha Narf, Finn, Shelli, LibraGirl, Christine, Jan, Lisa or New York City Watchdog. Please refer to my note about Brooklyn Brown Ale.]

The Best Thing About Tequilacon: There is really not just one best thing. It was all great. Everybody was so incredibly nice, friendly and had interesting stories to tell. I wish I could have talked longer to more people.

Not surprisingly, despite some of the things we all say on our blogs, it was not an orgy of foul-mouthedness.

The Most Unsettling Thing About Tequilacon: For the longest while it looked like I was going to be the oldest person there. And not just by a little. It was going to be 47-year old me and then a bunch of people in their late 20's and early 30's. Fortunately I'd eventually meet Mr. Geeky Geeky Tai Tai who was kind enough to be several years older than I am. I also learned that blogging keeps a person young as several of the people I'd thought to be in their early to mid 30s were a couple-several years older. And that was before any Brooklyn Brown Ale.

Technorati Tags: Tequilacon

Posted by delmer at 11:17 AM

May 5, 2008

Tequilacon 2008 - Saturday Night

Saturday afternoon found me filled with a sense of dread when, as I passed a business named "Mr. Chicken," I was reminded that I'd baked a pan of chicken thighs Thursday night and that I'd forgot to wrap and put in the fridge. I'd had every intention of letting them cool in the oven for ten minutes but as I did the math Saturday morning it hit me that a day and a half had passed and that it would be Sunday about midnight before I could get to them. I wasn't too concerned about the thighs putting off any sort of smell in the 72 hours they'd be "cooling," -- I'd tossed the package they'd come in into garbage I'd forgotten to take out and was sure that smell would outclass any other that was lingering in the house -- I just don't like the idea of wasting food and there's no way I'm going to be eating those things.

[Due to some serious work things today and some bike riding tonight I'm a bit behind. This is posted as a Sunday entry but I'm "tweaking" it Monday night. When I got home the house did not smell and the pan of thighs looked pretty good. I'd considered that they'd been in an oven that I'd heated to 405F and that was sealed sort of — it isn't waterproof, but it isn't like the thighs were sitting outside. Anyway, I took a bite of one of the thighs to see how it was (I'd call it a bit dry) and then I spit it out into the garbage as I wasn't positive that eating meat that had been unrefrigerated for three days was a good idea.)

A short time later the sense of dread passed and was replaced with a sense of wonder as I stepped into the North Bowl Lounge and Lanes.

I've got to admit that I was a little concerned when I'd heard that Tequilacon was going to be held in a bowling alley as it sounded like an ass kicking waiting to happen: a bunch of geeks getting together to party in a bowling alley which is the native habitat of the American redneck. I'd even gone so far as to suggest that Black Belt Mama show up in her black belt (called a Karman to those of us in the know) and robe (or Ghia) just in case we needed some protection.

The North Bowl and Lounge and Lanes, as it turned out, was the perfect venue. It was more like a really nice bar with a bowling alley downstairs. Perhaps that's why "Lounge" comes first in the name.

The upstairs lounge part of the North Bowl was overrun by the Tequilacon crew and a few other people that seemed to be very unredneck-like and who were being watched over by Jen's mom. I know this because, upon seeing Dave digging into a plate of something I thought I'd go grab a plate of the obviously-free snacks myself. But first I'd get a beer. And it was while I was standing waiting to order my beer that Jen's mom came over.

"I'm Jen's mother," said the tiny, elderly lady with a hint of German in her accent.

"From Run Jen Run?" I asked, genuinely surprised. I'd talked to Jen and she hadn't mentioned her mother being there but it isn't like Jen and I were super-duper extra-tight pals. I was pretty sure there were a lot of things Jen hadn't told me and maybe she was afraid I'd ask her mom to carry me around on her back if she let it slip she was there. I'd met Dustin earlier and knew his mother was playing an active role in Tequilacon, so why not Jen's mom? 

"No. I'm Jen's mother?" repeated the tiny elderly lady, in a tone that showed incredible patience for a person of Germanic ancestory.

"From Run Jen Run? I restated, assuming she'd misunderstood me.

"No. Jen and David. The bride and groom."

"Is this a wedding party in this part of the lounge?" I asked with genuine surprise,  "I might be in the wrong place."  And I was which was verified by a wave and a "you're supposed to be down here" from Hello Haha Narf and a polite "yes you are" from the barmaid. I was so glad I hadn't gotten snacks first. (I was able to order snacks from our part of the lounge… which was soo much better and cooler and full of more fun people than the wedding party part. Though I will say that Jen's mom seemed nice.)

(I am really really tired and there is a lot more to say and it is one a.m. Tuesday morning despite the time stamp on this. AND I was simply going to download this off my PDA and post it, but it needed two-seconds tweaking and now more than an hour has passed. So, I'll finish later.)

Technorati Tags: Tequilacon

Posted by delmer at 4:19 AM

May 4, 2008

Tequilacon 2008 - Friday

Friday night I had a 6:15 flight to Philly. As I was through security by 5 p.m. I thought I'd start my mini vacation by having a beer. And then a shot of tequila and then another beer. I did this while sharing a table with a blond gal (a chemist) who was on her way to Denver to take a mini vacation of her own.

The plane boarded on time (by the way, USAirways, despite the assurance that using my USAirways Mastercard to pay for tickets would get me on the plane faster, I still boarded in zone 4) and we were up and soaring in a manner that suggested we'd hit Philly early or at least on time. To celebrate I ordered two beers from the flight attendant. The flight was great and, aside from the person sitting in one of the seats near me that kept farting every 90 seconds (take a shit before you board people!) problem-free. [Oh, I should probably mention that an infant, one seat behind me and in the next row, squalled the whole flight. About half-way into the flight I realize he'd been squalling the whole almost nonstop but that I hadn't paid him too much mind. And then I wondered if crying babies don't bother me because I'm a father or if it was something else. Maybe the four beers and the shot.]

It took me longer to get to the hotel from the airport than it took me to get to Philly from Columbus. Part of this was due to the fact I have tremendous patience and part was due to the fact I'm an idiotic traveler. None of it had to do with alcohol as it all wore off during the wait. Without droning on too much just let me say that the Liberty Shuttle does not pick up people at the same place the hotel shuttles make collections.

I'd given New York City Watchdog a call after check-in and he told me that he and some other bloggers (none of whom I'd ever met) were at the Sheraton.

I'll point out for the people who have never been to Philly that the roads are a little f*cked up. At least in the Center City area. To save some virtual ink I won't say much more other than in my walk to the Sheraton I crossed the street several blocks from the hotel in order to take a direct line to it. As I walked closer I found that the street crossing actually took me a block too far to one side and I had to cross back even though it was clear when I initially crossed that without that first crossing I'd have passed it on the opposite side. I'm sure this doesn't make sense as you read it but as I briefly mentioned the "challenging walk" I'd had from my hotel a well-dressed Sheraton managerial-type said, "You sort of had to triple back, didn't you."

The NYC Watchdog had told me the group was in the restaurant so I went there first. I noticed a room with 14 or so people right next to the hostess station and asked her, "Do you know anythings about the clowns in there?" She didn't but said I could stick my head in. So I did.

I opened the door, stepped in, and things got quiet. I looked at NYCWD, pointed in recognition and called him by his first name. I gave Avitable a point and mentioned him by his name and made the same gesture/verbalization toward Miss Britt and Hilly. My thought was that since I'd just had NYCWD on the phone he might be expecting me and might have told some others that I was on my way.

As it was somebody, I think Midnight Cliff, looked up and asked, "And who are you?"

"I'm Delmer," I said. Not because I have Cher-syndrome, that is I don't think I'm deserving of a one-word-name identity, but because I thought it would be enough. Very few people find themselves in the position of having to wonder "But which 'Delmer' are you." And these people should have seen the Tequilacon Roster and at least recognized the name; how many Delmer's could they be waiting for?

What I didn't realize was that this group of bloggers had been making a bit of noise and had been threatened with getting tossed out of the restaurant. When I stuck my head in they thought I was a bouncer (and a very self-confident one as this was a mean-looking group of people).

A second or two later my obvious harmlessness won them over and Karl welcomed me to Tequilacon.

[My apologies for the lack of links and the abrupt ending. I'm at Philly airport and we board in about 10 minutes. I'm out of time. Yes, this is posted as Saturday's entry, but I'm writing it Sunday night.]

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Posted by delmer at 4:12 AM

May 3, 2008

Bonus Condom Story

I mentioned the "Needing a Translation" problem (see the other entry from today) to a female coworker which led her to tell this story. 

Her friend is a Teachers' Aid for a first-grade class in Cleveland. The TA walked into class the other day, took a look at something on the edge of the teacher's desk, and asked the her, "Why do you have a condom on the desk?"

"That's a condom?!" she asked with some surprise and dismay.

One of the first-grade girls found the condom on the bus, opened it, and brought it to class blown up for the teacher. She was so happy with her "find" that she'd gone so far as to draw a happy face on it.

As it was a condom the teacher was required to take it to the principals office and make a report.

I'm guessing she left out the part about not knowing what it was.

Posted by delmer at 4:55 PM | Comments (6)

May 2, 2008

Women, I need your help

Guys are welcome to lend a hand too.

I need a translation. For a friend of mine.

This friend, who had three adorable male children, was having a conversation with his ex wife. Without getting into all of the specifics he was led to say, "You accused me of cheating on you."

"I never accused you of cheating," she said.

He thinks she did, based on the following conversation they had while married:

"Where'd this condom come from?!" she said, picking a condom up off the counter and using a tone that a woman might use to ask about a condom she didn't recognize.

"Where do you think it came from?" he said in the playful tone a man might use because he's an idiot and he thinks is spouse is goofing on him because she gave him the condom and certainly she must remember she did.

"I don't know. It's not one of ours." And it is then he realizes that there is not a hint of "fun" in her voice and that her tone is very pointed.

And, we can really stop there I suppose.

That is the part I need translated. What could she be suggesting? And to be clear, her presentation was not conversational. It wasn't, "Hey… here's a condom. I wonder who it could belong to."

Certainly this conversation lacks the direct finger-pointing that "I think it was you (who was) looking at porn on my computer!" but it does not appear, to my male friend, that the conversation was headed toward, "I think you've been using condoms to make balloon animals and that is nothing but a waste of latex. Don't you know there are people in developing countries who can't get condoms at all! What would Al Gore think?"

Any thoughts?

[For the record, she had given him the condom in a birthday card. It wasn't the brand they normally used as she'd gotten it at an odd little shop in and odd little part of Columbus; the kind of shop that might have a giant bowl of condoms on the checkout counter. Also, it was she that had been looking at porn on her computer… accidentally, and she didn't have the clearest sense of how Internet Explorer's history and cache worked.]

Update: When he explained she'd given him the condom in a birthday card, with baseball tickets, and further explained the events surrounding it's procurement she seemed to start to remember that she'd been in the odd little shop… and they had a fishbowl of condoms… and perhaps she'd given it to him.

Posted by delmer at 11:47 AM | Comments (8)

May 1, 2008

A 49th Anniversary

It's a shame the RAINN posting period is over as I've got the most interesting sex story yet.

My parents have been having sex with each other as a married couple for longer than most of you have been alive.

Today marks their 49th anniversary.

I called this evening to wish them a happy anniversary and got dad on the phone.

"Happy anniversary," I said. "What did you two do today to celebrate?"

"Well," said dad, "As a matter of fact we were just getting out of the bed." And he didn't mean because they were having an afternoon nap. 

Big D is always the cut-up.

Posted by delmer at 8:51 AM | Comments (7)