Friday, January 31, 2003
Going Postal - In A Good Way
I was on line at the local PO, where they have a TV to help placate the line-bound masses, yearning to post their parcels. The TV was tuned to CNN, which was discussing the Bushies attempts to internationalize their splendid little war. A British commentator came on and said something to the effect of "I can understand why someone would want to make up for their father's disastrous mistake." Everyone burst out laughing, clerks, customers, security guards.
It's a small thing, but a source of hope, nonetheless.
Wild Vaccine Chase
A couple of days ago, M’s parents came over to help watch baby L, because both M and L’s nanny J were sick.
Yesterday M’s mom called to say that she had the shingles. All I can say is that I hope it’s not a bad case, and I understand that it is among the most painful things that an adult can experience, short of trauma.
Her doctor advised that anyone that she came into contact with who did not have immunity to Varicella should go get vaccinated ASAP. Of course, I’ve never had Chicken Pox, so I checked the NIH, CDC and WebMD sites for more info in what I should do. It seems that the vaccine had a good shot at interrupting an infection if administered within 72 hours of exposure.
So, at 10 AM, I called my doctor. They don’t have it and said to call a pediatrician or the ambulatory care center as St. Barnabas, the local hospital.
L’s pediatrician refused treat an adult and said to call St. Barnabas Ambulatory Center.
St. Barnabas Ambulatory Center said to call the main hospital.
The main hospital said to call Clara Maass, an affiliated hospital.
Clara Maass gave me a list of doctors to call, none of whom had the vaccine.
I called my insurance company, who gave me the number of an advocacy group for adult vaccinations.
The advocacy group suggested I call the local Health Department.
I called the Essex County Health Department who told me to call UMDNJ, the Rutgers affiliated teaching hospital in downtown Newark.
UMDNJ told me to call the Essex County Health Department.
I called the Livingston Township Health Department, where I spoke to a nurse who suggested I call some of the local urgent care centers (a.k.a. Doc-in-the-Box).
I called an urgent care center in West Orange, and lo and behold, they had the vaccine, for a mere $102, administered. This was just past noon.
I can’t believe that it took two hours of dedicated phone time to find someplace to get this vaccine.
I got to the Doc-in-the Box at about 12:30, filled out some forms, paid my money and waited some more. They gave me the shot at about 1:30.
So, now I know where to get adult immunizations. But, shouldn’t medical offices know this? If they choose not to provide a particular service, they should know where to send their patients, shouldn’t they? Shouldn’t doctors be held to a higher standard when it comes to helping their patients negotiate the health care system?
So, thanks, Doc-in-the-Box, and thanks to the nurse at the Livingston Health Department.
Boy, am I beat!
5:10 PM
Thursday, January 30, 2003
Fear of Poetry
The Bushies are afraid of a bunch of poets! I guess too many peaceniks spoil the war.
4:53 PM
Tuesday, January 28, 2003
Just Say Yes
To mondegreens. You know, mishearings, like the line from Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds that goes "the girl with colitis goes by".
Hank be With You
This is pretty amusing. For more context, you can check out Kissing Hank's Ass. (Warning! Not for the religously sensitive.)
10:36 AM
Sunday, January 26, 2003
Some Well-Dressed Non-Republican Shrubs
The SF Chron's DIP came through again with this great picture of sartorially astute greenery.
Bloomberg Thinks "Singapore"
In his latest rants about chewing gum. (May expire in a week, so act fast!)
3:38 PM
Friday, January 24, 2003
Site Names
Can't sleep. Tense. Mind running all over the place, including retitling my blog. Here are some ideas:
Efficient Grapes
There Aint No Such Thing As Free Verse
The Bile Duct
Write Only Memory
Onanistic Notes
Medulla Obligata
From My Brain To Yours
and, with thanks to my friend Marc:
Fierce, Like Cheese
12:31 AM
Thursday, January 23, 2003
Dream, Dream, Dream
I suppose that everyone has recurring dreams. Last night, I had two of my most common bad dreams (it’s hard to call them nightmares, bad dreams is more descriptive) rolled into a pastiche. This was a new one for me – as far as I know, I’ve never had a multiple repeat-dream before. This one was a combination of the “registered for a class, forgot about it, and now I’ve got to take the final in order to graduate” dream (college this time, not high school) and the “can’t gather up my stuff in time to get off the train at my stop because I’ve got to do something more important” dream. This time, I was also aware that it was a dream while it was happening, so I wasn’t too worried about whether or not I’d be able to get off the train, at school, in time to take the final, after studying and after tutoring the cute girl who somehow knew I was in the class I never went to.
Odd.
IKEA Madness
I also took a quick trip over to IKEA to buy a cheap chair so I would have something to sit on without hurting my back. What a zoo, even on a Wednesday. I had forgotten about the best feature of the Elizabeth, NJ IKEA – you can sit in the cafeteria and watch the planes take off and land at Newark Airport, just across the Turnpike from the store.
I also decided to check out the nearby Jersey Gardens outlet mall. It’s a surprisingly nice mall, with very modern decor and comfortable chairs. The stores were typical outlet schlock, though. If I had money, I would have probably bought a pair or two of shoes.
One thing that I haven’t figured out is my complete inability to find cool shoes in New Jersey. A couple of months ago, I insulted the salesman in Nordstrom by telling him that the shoe department in Short Hills Mall was smaller and had nothing interesting compared to the stores in California. He proudly stated that his store was number 3 in the US for shoe sales. I think that its because people in Jersey are more likely to cough up $600 for a pair of ridiculous Gucci loafers.
Giving In
I’ve more or less decided that my finances dictate that I take a job I don’t really want just so I can get myself out of debt and build up some savings. I hope that I can find something that I’ll enjoy doing. The truth is that I’m a really good worker, but I absolutely hate working with people who poison the well. Like people who don’t do much but put in long hours, or toadys, or political animals who only do something if it makes them look good. And I don’t want to work for an organization that rewards those types of employees.
So, do I go back to the software industry? It’s the obvious choice. I’ve had at least one friend suggest that I try my hand as an independent consultant. Unfortunately, the job would combine all of the ass-kissing and make-work of consulting, along with all of the cold-calling and rejections of sales. Then again, I think doing some selling would be good for me. Ultimately, I would like to be in business for myself, just not as a consultant. In addition to the above problems, it’s not scalable unless you hire other consultants, and before you know it, you’re just another consulting firm. Ugh.
So, if I go back to software, where should I go? I don’t want to go back to California – I can’t save a dime there unless I get myself into a roommate situation, and at 37, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I dislike Boston something fierce. So that leaves here, RTP and whatever opportunities I might find in random places.
I’m trying hard not to feel too negative about this, but the prospect is pretty damned depressing. There’s got to be a way to do something interesting and still make a decent living. I’ll keep looking, even as I begin the death march towards another soul-crushing stint as a cog in the corporate machine.
Wow, that’s depressing. I need to lighten up a bit.
Pear Pimples for Hairy Fishnuts
Random find today – Opus torments a Hare Krishna. This is one of my all-time favorite cartoons. It’s the next-to-last one on the page.
11:26 PM
Thursday, January 09, 2003
"Oh Boy, Can You Get Stucco!"
What else can one say about Florida, the biggest real estate boom state in the history of the US. The land use decisions here are truly atrocious, creating a world of one strip mall after another with nothing interesting, a real shortage of pedestrian downtowns and a genuine feeling of disposability.
That said, at least the quality of the food available here has improved. Last night we went to a tapas bar in Tampa which was very good, if a bit expensive. Not the sort of thing that would have been found here twenty years ago.
After dinner, I wanted to go to Ybor City and check the place out at night, unfortunately, Andrew wussed out and didn’t want to go. Ybor City is a restoration district. It is the historical home of the Cuban community in Tampa, and the former home of Tampa’s erstwhile cigar industry. Andrew and I went there while waiting for Guy to arrive at the airport. We had some pretty terrific barbecue, and found a nice cigar bar where we were able to sit, enjoy a nice cigar and a coffee, and watch the world go by. Not bad.
Waiting For Tiger
We went golfing on Tuesday. That is, Guy and Andrew went golfing, I tried to murder a little white ball with a set of blunt instruments. I did make a Par 3 hole, but that was the high spot for me. If I’m really going to get into golf, I need to practice. Then again, I’ve been saying that for the past four years. Perhaps there’s a message in there.
Yesterday, I was a bit tired, today, my muscles are actually complaining. Then again, golf uses muscles that normally don’t get too much use, so I guess I’m allowed to be a bit sore.
11:22 AM
Monday, January 06, 2003
Arson for Jesus
Sometimes my own country really scares me. Outside the condo I’m staying in on Treasure Island, FL, there’s a large pickup with a camper top. This is not terribly remarkable in itself. There are, however, two features of this truck that are remarkable – three stickers that say "Hellfire and Holy Ghost, Arson for Jesus" and a large spoiler on top (about 3' high and 5' wide) that proclaims "Jesus Saves" and has the name of a business written beneath it.
Arson for Jesus? Forgive me for not understanding. BTW, the truck has Alabama plates.
More travelogue to come...
11:07 PM
Thursday, January 02, 2003
Sub-Tropical Madness
Today, I hit that point I always reach every time I visit Florida – the Primal Scream Point. I am so thankful that I don’t have to live in Florida, the place makes me crazy. The town my Grandmother lives in is a sort of WWII (and early Silent) generation working-class paradise. Things are cheap – both in price and in quality, and the people seem SO downtrodden and stupid.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my Grandmother dearly, and I also love the rest of my family who live down here, but this is truly the land of diminished expectations. I went to the mall today. The best store in the mall is Dillard’s, which can best be described as Macy’s meets the Golden Girls on the way to the golf course. The mall rats here are of a particularly dejected variety – I’ve never seen so many dull looking teenagers sporting so many bad tattoos (both design and execution) and so many people dressed in polyester (including the 30-somethings).
It seems that the only people down here with reasonable economic prospects either own a business or are in real estate. Then again, the census and ACORN info for this area pretty much says it all. The average household income is in just over $31k, the age distribution is skewed towards retirees and very young families, and it’s lilly white. There simply aren’t too many people around here between the ages of 35 and 55. And no wonder – what is there to do here? Work in Publix as a bagger?
So, tomorrow, I’m going to clean out the gutters (an issue which is ever-present with my Grandmother), check into deals on satellite TV (cable is up to $46/month), let Gram buy me lunch for my birthday, exchange a garbage can I bought at Target that’s just a little too big, and pack up to head out on my golf trip.
I’ll be back before I head back north. Here’s more of my travelogue:
December 27-29 – Asheville, NC
It was really good to see Marcum, his brother Sam and his mother. Asheville remains one of the most beautiful places I’ve been. The setting is really spectacular. Asheville sits in some relatively level land in the French Broad River basin in western North Carolina. Mt. Pisgah dominates the skyline, and the rest of the Appalachians complete the mountain panorama.
On Friday, Marc, Sam and I went downtown and had lunch at a really good Japanese restaurant and walked around the downtown area. Much of downtown Asheville was built in the 1920’s and managed to remain intact largely due to the area’s backwater status. There are lots of architectural gems downtown, including the Post Office, which is now a federal courthouse, the Grove Arcade, which malingered for many years as a federal office building but has been recently renovated, St. Lawrence’s Basilica, home of the largest self-supporting oval dome in North America, and the Battery Park Hotel, now a residence for seniors.
On Saturday, Marc and I drove out to Sylva (Sam had gone home) and Cullowhee, just to check things out. Cullowhee is nothing to speak of. It’s the home of Carolina Western University, the poor stepchild of the NC university system. Sylva is a charming little town with a courthouse that sits on a hill at the end of the four-block long Main Street. I would guess that things have changed there a lot, as Main St. is now home to fru-fru bakeries and touristy stuff rather than the sorts of businesses one would expect there.
On Sunday, Marc, Nell (Marc’s mom) and I went out to Fontana Lake and Dam. The dam is the largest in the TVA system and is quite spectacular. On the way out, we drove through the Cherokee reservation. The res appeared to be pretty downtrodden. I suspect that not too much of the proceeds of the new Harrah’s casino was being pumped back into the community.
On the way back, we went through the Nantahala River Gorge, which is reputed to be so steep that the river only gets direct sunlight for a couple of hours each day. Again, more spectacular scenery. There really is something special about this part of the country. When we got back to Asheville, we ate at The Laughing Seed, one of the first restaurants to spring up during the areas renaissance. I really like the place, despite the fact that the prices have gone up considerably since I first ate there five years ago. (Notably, the place’s address is 40 Wall St, an address I worked at in New York City for many, many years.)
December 30 – Driving to Florida
My drive down to Florida was pretty uneventful. I took I-26 down to US 25 into I-85, through Athens, GA on US 441/129, and the rest of the way on I-75. I like Athens. Then again, I tend to like college towns - probably because you can always get good food on the cheap in college towns.
My main discovery on this trip is that there is no lane discipline in Florida. People just feel free to do 45 in the left lane and don’t notice that they’re being passed on the right.
My opinion that development and land use in Florida is out of control was only reinforced. I have no real objection to sprawl, but does it have to be so built-to-be-torn-down-in-five-years ugly? But, there’s no use getting upset at what you can’t control. Just wait till they run out of water...
10:44 PM
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