The spirit of Christmas
Here in Windsor, Ontario, Canada, we're located just one mile from Detroit, Michigan. So close, and yet so far. A different city, a different country, a different culture lies just beyond the narrow Detroit River. The majestic skyscrapers of downtown Detroit hide the seemier sights and sounds of the nearby ghettos - scenes of the infamous 1967 race riots. Many of the burned out shells destroyed almost 40 years ago still stand today. Detroit has a reputation, some say well-earned, of being a rough and dangerous city. While no longer considered the murder capital of the U.S., it is still close to the top of the list. Crimes of all kinds are far too frequent, as witnessed by the constant references to crime on the nightly news.
Contrast that with Windsor, a relatively sleepy city of 200,000+ residents, that has endured a particularly grisly year with six or eight murders. Windsor made the news this past week for a very strange reason. One that led to some unexpected comments from our neighbours in Detroit.
By the way... the place mentioned in the stories above is located four blocks from my home.
I'm not an exciting person, but anything that crosses my mind that I care to share with the rest of the world will appear here.
Saturday, December 31, 2005
Friday, December 30, 2005
Today was alright...
My foot was feeling well enough to hobble along without much discomfort. I'm still favouring the foot, but the pain is substantially reduced. On the other hand, my cold has gotten worse, and I did a lot of coughing and throat clearing today. Normally, that wouldn't be so bad, except today I had a job interview. The people doing the interview had been told in advance about my foot and my cold, so I hope that was taken into account.
Interaction between them and me went smoothly, with each of us feeling quite comfortable. All questions were answered candidly, but in a positive fashion. Where there was a lack of knowledge in a particular field of expertise, I pointed out that none of those areas would be difficult to master with a bit of on the job training, and that I had other skills that could be transfered to other members of the support staff.
There were the standard "soft" questions to try to flush out my psychological profile. I have no way to tell how I did on those questions, since they weren't the standard questions you learn about from some of the recruiting websites. Still, I came away feeling that if I decide not to pursue self-employment, I may still be able to get a "real job".
My foot was feeling well enough to hobble along without much discomfort. I'm still favouring the foot, but the pain is substantially reduced. On the other hand, my cold has gotten worse, and I did a lot of coughing and throat clearing today. Normally, that wouldn't be so bad, except today I had a job interview. The people doing the interview had been told in advance about my foot and my cold, so I hope that was taken into account.
Interaction between them and me went smoothly, with each of us feeling quite comfortable. All questions were answered candidly, but in a positive fashion. Where there was a lack of knowledge in a particular field of expertise, I pointed out that none of those areas would be difficult to master with a bit of on the job training, and that I had other skills that could be transfered to other members of the support staff.
There were the standard "soft" questions to try to flush out my psychological profile. I have no way to tell how I did on those questions, since they weren't the standard questions you learn about from some of the recruiting websites. Still, I came away feeling that if I decide not to pursue self-employment, I may still be able to get a "real job".
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
How I spent the Christmas holiday
I've been suffering a particularly painful bout of the gout (at least I hope it's gout) for over a week now. My foot has been too swollen to properly fit into my shoes, and the bone just below the base of my big toe is red and tender to the touch. I haven't been able to walk properly in almost a week, and when I finally tried to leave my house yesterday, I could only do so with the aid of a cane.
With that in mind, the Christmas holiday visiting season was quite compromised this year. The day before Christmas, my father-in-law and his wife visited us, as did my step-daughter and her husband, with their three kids. Also joining us for that evening were my brother- and sister-in-law. This day marked the official "coming out" party for the newest grandchild, at the age of one month old. He's such a tiny package, but it was still a joy to see everyone fussing over him so!
I was pretty much confined to the easy chair, since I couldn't stand without difficulty.
By Christmas day, my step-son had made it into town and we celebrated the traditional Christmas lunch and present opening with nearly everyone present. Only one of my step-daughters was missing - her work schedule called for her to be at work and she couldn't make it home until the 26th. With the hustle and bustle of little kids around, my foot was in danger of being prodded; and despite my best efforts, there were a couple of times when it was subjected to an accidental jolt that nearly sent me through the ceiling with pain. Although our entire family had been invited out to dinner at a different brother-in-law's house, I tried but failed to put on shoes, and elected to stay home.
Things were much the same on the 26th, and I spent the entire day indoors and off my feet. On the 27th, I felt like I was letting my discomfort rule my life, so I did what I could to force a pair of shoes on, and took the opportunity to visit my mother and sisters; along with a neice who was celebrating a birthday that day. Walking was tolerable with the cane, but I had to warn everyone that I would not remove my shoes (dirty or not) for fear of being unable to get them back on.
This morning, I can finally fit a slipper over my foot without too much discomfort, although if I snag my toe or heel on a carpet, or an edge of a piece of furniture, the pain is immediate and excruciating. I am able to slowly shuffle around the house without use of a cane, but I haven't been brave enough to venture up to the second floor.
This afternoon, I hope to install a new DVD dual-layer drive into my computer. I received it as a gift from my wife, and I'm anxious to see how well it works. Also, when my step-son arrives home, I have to put some effort into trying to install a new water valve in the laundry room that will allow the dogs to automatically replenish their water supply when it runs low. Up until now, my wife has had the job of refilling and lugging a 50-pound water jug on average twice a week to keep those thirsty labs happy.
Next week, I'm scheduled to attend classes meant to prepare me for running my own business, but to throw a wrench into the whole self-employment concept, I received a call today from one of my ex-employers saying they'd like to interview me for a newly available opening. As much as I would enjoy working with those people again, I have some lingering doubts about the long-term prospects. I'll have to give the whole thing some serious thought.
I've been suffering a particularly painful bout of the gout (at least I hope it's gout) for over a week now. My foot has been too swollen to properly fit into my shoes, and the bone just below the base of my big toe is red and tender to the touch. I haven't been able to walk properly in almost a week, and when I finally tried to leave my house yesterday, I could only do so with the aid of a cane.
With that in mind, the Christmas holiday visiting season was quite compromised this year. The day before Christmas, my father-in-law and his wife visited us, as did my step-daughter and her husband, with their three kids. Also joining us for that evening were my brother- and sister-in-law. This day marked the official "coming out" party for the newest grandchild, at the age of one month old. He's such a tiny package, but it was still a joy to see everyone fussing over him so!
I was pretty much confined to the easy chair, since I couldn't stand without difficulty.
By Christmas day, my step-son had made it into town and we celebrated the traditional Christmas lunch and present opening with nearly everyone present. Only one of my step-daughters was missing - her work schedule called for her to be at work and she couldn't make it home until the 26th. With the hustle and bustle of little kids around, my foot was in danger of being prodded; and despite my best efforts, there were a couple of times when it was subjected to an accidental jolt that nearly sent me through the ceiling with pain. Although our entire family had been invited out to dinner at a different brother-in-law's house, I tried but failed to put on shoes, and elected to stay home.
Things were much the same on the 26th, and I spent the entire day indoors and off my feet. On the 27th, I felt like I was letting my discomfort rule my life, so I did what I could to force a pair of shoes on, and took the opportunity to visit my mother and sisters; along with a neice who was celebrating a birthday that day. Walking was tolerable with the cane, but I had to warn everyone that I would not remove my shoes (dirty or not) for fear of being unable to get them back on.
This morning, I can finally fit a slipper over my foot without too much discomfort, although if I snag my toe or heel on a carpet, or an edge of a piece of furniture, the pain is immediate and excruciating. I am able to slowly shuffle around the house without use of a cane, but I haven't been brave enough to venture up to the second floor.
This afternoon, I hope to install a new DVD dual-layer drive into my computer. I received it as a gift from my wife, and I'm anxious to see how well it works. Also, when my step-son arrives home, I have to put some effort into trying to install a new water valve in the laundry room that will allow the dogs to automatically replenish their water supply when it runs low. Up until now, my wife has had the job of refilling and lugging a 50-pound water jug on average twice a week to keep those thirsty labs happy.
Next week, I'm scheduled to attend classes meant to prepare me for running my own business, but to throw a wrench into the whole self-employment concept, I received a call today from one of my ex-employers saying they'd like to interview me for a newly available opening. As much as I would enjoy working with those people again, I have some lingering doubts about the long-term prospects. I'll have to give the whole thing some serious thought.
Saturday, December 24, 2005
Apologies in advance...
From here:
Christmas 2003
Twas the night before Christmas and Santa's a wreck...
How to live in a world that's politically correct?
His workers no longer would answer to "Elves".
"Vertically Challenged" they were calling themselves.
And labor conditions at the north pole
Were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.
Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,
Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.
And equal employment had made it quite clear
That Santa had better not use just reindeer.
So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid,
Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid!
The runners had been removed from his sleigh;
The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A.
And people had started to call for the cops
When they heard sled noises on their roof-tops.
Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened.
His fur trimmed red suit was called "Unenlightened."
And to show you the strangeness of life's ebbs and flows,
Rudolf was suing over unauthorized use of his nose
And had gone on Jerry Springer, in front of the nation,
Demanding millions in over-due compensation.
So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife,
Who suddenly said she'd enough of this life,
Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,
Demanding from now on her title was Ms.
And as for the gifts, why, he'd ne'er had a notion
That making a choice could cause so much commotion.
Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.
Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim. Nothing to shoot
Nothing that clamored or made lots of noise.
Nothing for just girls. Or just for the boys.
Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.
Nothing that's warlike or non-pacific.
No candy or sweets...they were bad for the tooth.
Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.
And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.
For they raised the hackles of those psychological
Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.
No baseball, no football...someone could get hurt;
Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.
Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe;
And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.
So Santa just stood there, disheveled, perplexed;
He just could not figure out what to do next
He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,
But you've got to be careful with that word today.
His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;
Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.
Something special was needed, a gift that he might
Give to all without angering the left or the right.
A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,
Each group of people, every religion;
Every ethnicity, every hue,
Everyone, everywhere...even you.
So here is that gift, it's price beyond worth...
"May you and your loved ones enjoy peace on earth."
From here:
Christmas 2003
Twas the night before Christmas and Santa's a wreck...
How to live in a world that's politically correct?
His workers no longer would answer to "Elves".
"Vertically Challenged" they were calling themselves.
And labor conditions at the north pole
Were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.
Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,
Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.
And equal employment had made it quite clear
That Santa had better not use just reindeer.
So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid,
Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid!
The runners had been removed from his sleigh;
The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A.
And people had started to call for the cops
When they heard sled noises on their roof-tops.
Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened.
His fur trimmed red suit was called "Unenlightened."
And to show you the strangeness of life's ebbs and flows,
Rudolf was suing over unauthorized use of his nose
And had gone on Jerry Springer, in front of the nation,
Demanding millions in over-due compensation.
So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife,
Who suddenly said she'd enough of this life,
Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,
Demanding from now on her title was Ms.
And as for the gifts, why, he'd ne'er had a notion
That making a choice could cause so much commotion.
Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.
Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim. Nothing to shoot
Nothing that clamored or made lots of noise.
Nothing for just girls. Or just for the boys.
Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.
Nothing that's warlike or non-pacific.
No candy or sweets...they were bad for the tooth.
Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.
And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.
For they raised the hackles of those psychological
Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.
No baseball, no football...someone could get hurt;
Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.
Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe;
And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.
So Santa just stood there, disheveled, perplexed;
He just could not figure out what to do next
He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,
But you've got to be careful with that word today.
His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;
Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.
Something special was needed, a gift that he might
Give to all without angering the left or the right.
A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,
Each group of people, every religion;
Every ethnicity, every hue,
Everyone, everywhere...even you.
So here is that gift, it's price beyond worth...
"May you and your loved ones enjoy peace on earth."
Thursday, December 22, 2005
More proof that God exists
I have no doubt that God exists, and that he watches over me. This apparently extends to those I love as well. Let me explain. Tuesday night, fairly late in the evening, I get a call from my sister. She's the one in the Toronto area whose basement was destroyed by a flash flood back in August. The walls and floors were just replaced, with the final repairs having been made that same day. Finally, she had the time (and new furniture set up) to put her computer back into service.
Everything was plugged in as per the wiring diagrams she had carefully drawn before disconnecting the equipment several months ago, and when the power switch was turned on... nothing happened. She could hear the computer running, but there was nothing except a blinking light on the monitor. So she called me.
She wanted to know if I could come over right away (I live 250 miles away and it's a couple of days before my wife hosts a large family Christmas party). I said no. She offered to pay for my train tickets. I still said no, and pointed out that a service technician would be much more convenient, and significantly cheaper than me hopping on a train. My wife even suggested that she pack up the computer and bring it to our house this coming weekend. She didn't think it would be safe to carry the computer on slippery pavement to her car, so she said that was not an option. After much badgering, and her insisting that she didn't want anyone else messing with her computer except me, I finally gave in.
We spent the next 15 minutes or so making online train reservations for the next morning (I can't believe how expensive last minute tickets cost - even economy!), and after using her credit card number to pay for the tickets, I remembered an important appointment that would be missed if I took that trip. We then cancelled the tickets, and made another reservation for later on in the day.
So, Wednesday comes, and I do everything I had planned; then rush to catch a 5:30PM train that should get me into Toronto at about 9:15PM. It was 10:00PM when I actually got to Union Station, and because of my current limp, it took me a few minutes to walk to the subway. I finally got to the subway stop where my sister had arranged to pick me up. It was the last stop on the line, and the time was after 11:00PM before I got in her car. I hadn't eaten in several hours, so finding food was a priority. Not much is open at that time of night on a weeknight, so I had to settle for fast food takeout.
By the time I got to my sister's house, it was after midnight. My return train ticket required that I get onto the subway by 10:00AM on Thursday, so I didn't have much time to waste. Luckily, the problem with the computer was very minor, and was fixed within 5 minutes of arriving at the workstation. Since the computer hadn't been used in a few months, there were many updates that needed to be applied. She doesn't have high speed internet, but it is slightly faster than dialup. Using her connection, it took several hours to update the antivirus program, spyware detection program, and browsers (both Firefox and IE had needed to be updated). And once all that was done, there were the general questions that were posed and answered.
Finally, at around 3:30AM, everything was done, and even though my sister was still using the computer to catch up on email, it was time for me to get to bed. No sooner had I stepped away from the computer than we heard a menacing pop followed instantly by smoke billowing from every orifice of the battery backup unit. The smoke was thick and acrid. It was clear that toxic fumes were being created from burning plastic. My first priority was trying to get under the computer desk and turn off the switch on the battery. Smoke continued to pour from the battery, and I worked frantically to unplug all the devices that were plugged into the battery. Each time a device was unplugged, smoke began to billow from the newly uncovered holes. Having finally been able to unplug all the wires, it was time to unplug the battery from the wall. That was difficult to do because of the position of the wall outlet, but eventually, we got it out.
The battery is somewhat rectangular in shape. I picked the battery up with my bare hands and tilted it so that the longer part of the rectangle pointed up. My rationale was that, if there was still an active fire inside the battery, it would be facing up, away from my hands, and away from the lead-acid battery cell. I quickly made it up the stairs, through the garage, and outside, where I gently laid the battery on the snow-covered sidewalk. We headed indoors to open some windows to air out the basement (the smell was overpowering), and eventually went back outside to disconnect the internal lead-acid battery cell from the battery housing.
As far as I can tell, nothing that was done to service the computer had any bearing on the battery. It had not been overloaded (the only things plugged into it were the computer, monitor, and cable modem). Based on what I can tell, that battery would have started on fire approximately three hours after the computer had been powered up, regardless of whether it had been fixed by a technician, by me at my home, or by me in her basement. Only the last option, however, would have resulted in me (or anyone else, for that matter) being present at the moment the fire started.
Any other scenario, and the house would have been burned to the ground, possibly with my sister and her daughter still inside.
Thank you, God, for saving us from all that grief.
(P.S. The trains were running so far behind schedule because of weather, VIA Rail has offered a 50% discount on my next trip!)
I have no doubt that God exists, and that he watches over me. This apparently extends to those I love as well. Let me explain. Tuesday night, fairly late in the evening, I get a call from my sister. She's the one in the Toronto area whose basement was destroyed by a flash flood back in August. The walls and floors were just replaced, with the final repairs having been made that same day. Finally, she had the time (and new furniture set up) to put her computer back into service.
Everything was plugged in as per the wiring diagrams she had carefully drawn before disconnecting the equipment several months ago, and when the power switch was turned on... nothing happened. She could hear the computer running, but there was nothing except a blinking light on the monitor. So she called me.
She wanted to know if I could come over right away (I live 250 miles away and it's a couple of days before my wife hosts a large family Christmas party). I said no. She offered to pay for my train tickets. I still said no, and pointed out that a service technician would be much more convenient, and significantly cheaper than me hopping on a train. My wife even suggested that she pack up the computer and bring it to our house this coming weekend. She didn't think it would be safe to carry the computer on slippery pavement to her car, so she said that was not an option. After much badgering, and her insisting that she didn't want anyone else messing with her computer except me, I finally gave in.
We spent the next 15 minutes or so making online train reservations for the next morning (I can't believe how expensive last minute tickets cost - even economy!), and after using her credit card number to pay for the tickets, I remembered an important appointment that would be missed if I took that trip. We then cancelled the tickets, and made another reservation for later on in the day.
So, Wednesday comes, and I do everything I had planned; then rush to catch a 5:30PM train that should get me into Toronto at about 9:15PM. It was 10:00PM when I actually got to Union Station, and because of my current limp, it took me a few minutes to walk to the subway. I finally got to the subway stop where my sister had arranged to pick me up. It was the last stop on the line, and the time was after 11:00PM before I got in her car. I hadn't eaten in several hours, so finding food was a priority. Not much is open at that time of night on a weeknight, so I had to settle for fast food takeout.
By the time I got to my sister's house, it was after midnight. My return train ticket required that I get onto the subway by 10:00AM on Thursday, so I didn't have much time to waste. Luckily, the problem with the computer was very minor, and was fixed within 5 minutes of arriving at the workstation. Since the computer hadn't been used in a few months, there were many updates that needed to be applied. She doesn't have high speed internet, but it is slightly faster than dialup. Using her connection, it took several hours to update the antivirus program, spyware detection program, and browsers (both Firefox and IE had needed to be updated). And once all that was done, there were the general questions that were posed and answered.
Finally, at around 3:30AM, everything was done, and even though my sister was still using the computer to catch up on email, it was time for me to get to bed. No sooner had I stepped away from the computer than we heard a menacing pop followed instantly by smoke billowing from every orifice of the battery backup unit. The smoke was thick and acrid. It was clear that toxic fumes were being created from burning plastic. My first priority was trying to get under the computer desk and turn off the switch on the battery. Smoke continued to pour from the battery, and I worked frantically to unplug all the devices that were plugged into the battery. Each time a device was unplugged, smoke began to billow from the newly uncovered holes. Having finally been able to unplug all the wires, it was time to unplug the battery from the wall. That was difficult to do because of the position of the wall outlet, but eventually, we got it out.
The battery is somewhat rectangular in shape. I picked the battery up with my bare hands and tilted it so that the longer part of the rectangle pointed up. My rationale was that, if there was still an active fire inside the battery, it would be facing up, away from my hands, and away from the lead-acid battery cell. I quickly made it up the stairs, through the garage, and outside, where I gently laid the battery on the snow-covered sidewalk. We headed indoors to open some windows to air out the basement (the smell was overpowering), and eventually went back outside to disconnect the internal lead-acid battery cell from the battery housing.
As far as I can tell, nothing that was done to service the computer had any bearing on the battery. It had not been overloaded (the only things plugged into it were the computer, monitor, and cable modem). Based on what I can tell, that battery would have started on fire approximately three hours after the computer had been powered up, regardless of whether it had been fixed by a technician, by me at my home, or by me in her basement. Only the last option, however, would have resulted in me (or anyone else, for that matter) being present at the moment the fire started.
Any other scenario, and the house would have been burned to the ground, possibly with my sister and her daughter still inside.
Thank you, God, for saving us from all that grief.
(P.S. The trains were running so far behind schedule because of weather, VIA Rail has offered a 50% discount on my next trip!)
Sunday, December 11, 2005
I knew there was something I liked about Christmas
I guess I should be proud this happened in Canada!
I guess I should be proud this happened in Canada!
King of my domain
For someone without an income, I'm feeling pretty flush these days. I've been going on a bit of a buying spree, renewing and/or registering domain names that I think will be beneficial to me should I successfully start my own business. There are a number of domain registrars and hosting companies that sell their services for next to nothing, and I can only hope they'll deliver adequate quality once I actually set up more than a parked domain page. Time will tell.
For someone without an income, I'm feeling pretty flush these days. I've been going on a bit of a buying spree, renewing and/or registering domain names that I think will be beneficial to me should I successfully start my own business. There are a number of domain registrars and hosting companies that sell their services for next to nothing, and I can only hope they'll deliver adequate quality once I actually set up more than a parked domain page. Time will tell.
Thursday, December 08, 2005
Monday, December 05, 2005
When is a blog not a blog?
What do you call a collection of dated postings, written by a single person, which expresses opinions, informs readers, and offers insightful advice. Many might call it a blog. There's one such site which I visit almost daily, yet for some reason, I access it via a dedicated link on my desktop. It's called Joel on Software. Why it hasn't been included in my list of blogs is, frankly, beyond me. Today, it gets added to my list of good sites to visit. Is it a blog? You decide. Is it interesting? For the right audience, definitely!
What do you call a collection of dated postings, written by a single person, which expresses opinions, informs readers, and offers insightful advice. Many might call it a blog. There's one such site which I visit almost daily, yet for some reason, I access it via a dedicated link on my desktop. It's called Joel on Software. Why it hasn't been included in my list of blogs is, frankly, beyond me. Today, it gets added to my list of good sites to visit. Is it a blog? You decide. Is it interesting? For the right audience, definitely!