Kicking Tobacco

Today's post is inspired by Sunny. 

I started smoking when I was 17.  I loved it and was up to a pack a day within a week.  We were not allowed to smoke in boot camp, but someone from my platoon got their hands on a pack and shared with me.  I hated how congested I was for the next couple of days, but loved the nicotine.  The habit stuck with me for over 35 years.

I did quit for a couple of years in my thirties, but {wife} 1.0 and I split up and I started smoking again, despite the fact that it was a horrible financial decision.  I couldn't make my mortgage payment without a roommate, but I somehow {afforded} smoking.

Over the years I've quit multiple times.  I tried cold turkey, Zyban, nicotine patches, gum, and hypnosis, but nothing stuck.  I followed the Uncle Buck program.  I went from cigarettes to dip to cigars.  The last several years I smoked Swisher Sweets.  And when I say I smoked them, I mean I inhaled.  It wasn't that deep inhale of a cigarette, but the smoke definitely hit my lungs.

To me, a nicotine fit felt like my lungs were hungry, and a cigarette always made me full.  I suspect that's part of why cigars worked.  Inhaling cigar smoke was like a punch in the lungs, and at the end, it was similar to eating a steak dinner, because I was satisfied for hours.  That allowed me to break the ritual of going out every hour or so for a smoke break.

I finally kicked the habit a couple of years ago.  I'm thinking it's been three or four years, but I don't recall exactly when I quit.  I know it was in May sometime.  I could look it up, but it's not that important to me.  Besides, I'm tobacco free, but I'm not nicotine free.  I still get my nicotine fix with lozenges.

Lozenges work for me because they mimic some of the sensory input a cigarette provides.  Smokers can no doubt relate to that slightly spicy, peppery not-quite-burning sensation in the palate, or that slightly pasty feeling that's not quite dry mouth that comes with and immediately after a smoke.  Lozenges leave a mouth feel that's similar to a cigarette, without the inconvenient shortness of breath and other health consequences.

What finally got me to quit?  I hit a fitness plateau.  I was one of those idiots who would go to the gym, and then fire up a cancer stick on the drive home.  One random day, I was dissatisfied with my run time, and understood that while it was partially due to the ravages of time, tobacco was the biggest blocker to my fitness goals.  I'd love to say that I spontaneously threw my pack out the window and never looked back, but that's not exactly what happened.  I looked into nicotine replacement therapy and decided to try the lozenges because that's one thing I hadn't tried.  I bought a box and switched when I killed the last cigar.

As I said earlier, I still do lozenges years later, even though it's designed to be a temporary solution.  From my perspective, it's a reasonable compromise.  I'd say I'm still semi-addicted to nicotine.  I occasionally go a couple of days without a lozenge and it doesn't impact my lifestyle.  I don't get nicotine fits.  However, I made a promise to myself that I will not use tobacco again, and I will not inhale my nicotine.

One other thing I'd like to note.  Every single time I {quit} smoking cigarettes, I would hack up phlegm for a solid week or two.  When I'd quit cigars, the coughing would only last a couple of days.  I'm not an expert, but I suspect this is because cigarettes have more chemicals, which to my understanding are specifically designed to deliver the nicotine to your system faster, and I believe these chemicals are missing from cigars.  I also suspect that I didn't inhale the cigar smoke as deeply, because it was so dense.  I'm not advocating that anyone switch from cigarettes to cigars, I'm just making an observation.  By the same token, I'm not standing on my soap box and telling anyone to quit.  I'm just telling a story.

{Note: Edited to fix a couple of typos I missed the first time around.}

I'm Back (in Shape) Baby!

I believe I shared in an earlier post that after my car accident in early November, I had lost a lot of strength.  For a frame of reference, I ran a physical fitness test in October and was able to crank out 10 pull-ups, plank for 3:45, and run 1.5 miles in 13:00, or run 3 miles in about 29:00.  By contrast, around this time last month, I was plateaued at 7 pull-ups and a 2:00 plank time.  My run time was back to normal.

I'm happy to share that I did a fitness test last week and I'm back up to speed.  In fact, I was just shy of hitting that ever-elusive 11th pull-up.  (My eyes were over the bar, but I couldn't quite get my chin there.)  I held my plank for the full 3:45, and I hit a personal best of 1.5 miles in 12:50.

I'm going to give some of the credit to creatine.  People have been telling me for years that it's worth looking into, but I may or may not have a bit of a stubborn streak.  I've gone my entire life without using fitness supplements, but I finally caved.  From my perspective, it came down to the (possibly false) choice of acknowledging that I might not be able to rebuild my strength after the accident, or agreeing to try a performance enhancer that's clinically proven safe and effective.

Creatine is everything the pundits claim.  Physically, I have more energy and stamina, and I seem to recover more quickly.  At the gym, I usually do three sets of a given exercise, and I find that I occasionally have the energy to do a fourth set.  I can usually crank out an extra rep or two in each set, and I'm ready to go more quickly between sets.  I've also noticed that I'm more mentally alert.  I take my creatine in the morning, and it provides about the same pep as a cup of coffee.

This time last month, I was resigning myself to the possibility that I'd never get back to pre-accident fitness.  Now I'm looking forward to achieving some of the fitness goals that have eluded me for years.  My stretch goals are to do 12 pull-ups, to run 1.5 miles in 12:30, and to run 3 miles in 28 minutes or less.

In Support of Ozempic Face

We are a superficial, critical society, and we spend far too much time worrying about how people look.  This one's too fat.  That one's too skinny.  Oh, look at the splotchy skin on this one!

I'd like to clarify that I'm not immune to this.  I'm not a fan of the collagen lip injection trend.  In fact, I'm not a big fan of cosmetic surgery in general.  But I'm not going to take to social media and shame people for their appearance.  Hence today's post.

Imagine being overweight your entire life.  You try diligently to lose weight, but can't keep it off.  Then a drug comes along that could help you lose weight and make you healthier.  You take the drug and start to feel better.  Next thing you know, people are saying you look too skinny.  It's almost like they prefer you fat and unhealthy.

Sorry, I'd like to opt out of this game.  Yes, I do have my own preferences when it comes to personal appearance and healthy choices.  Heck, I just did a post about healthy eating.  But you know what?  It's not my place to share my unsolicited opinion on someone else's appearances or lifestyle choices.  Do you want to try the new wonder drug and lose a lot of weight?  Great!  Don't trust the science yet?  Awesome!  Collagen injections?  Like I said, it's not my thing, you do you!

Noem is Out!

I read an article reporting that Trump has fired Department of Homeland Security Kristi Noem.  I support this decision.

Trump also said that she's going to become "Special Envoy for the Shield of the Americas," whatever that is.  It sounds like a made-up position, but if it keeps her out of any real position of power I can live with it.

Markwayne Mullin has been selected to take her place.  I don't know anything about the guy, so I don't have any real thoughts on the choice, other than to say it's interesting that Trump would pull anyone from the House or Senate, considering how small their majority is at the moment.  (Mullin is a Republican Senator from Oklahoma.)

Taking Their Ball and Going Home

I'm a life member of a couple of Veteran Service Organizations.  I'm active in one.  Veteran Service Organizations in general are suffering from declining membership.  The old guard is dying off, and the younger generation isn't interested in joining up.

My group has a younger local head honcho who is trying diligently to attract younger people.  The thing is, the old guard doesn't like it.  We had our elections a couple of days ago, to determine who would run things for the next year, and it sucked.  During my time with this group,  we've never had actual elections, because we struggle to get one person to serve in these elected jobs.  This year, the old guard got together and put up a second candidate in an attempt to get the current honcho voted out.  They failed.  Things got heated, and I think a lot of the old guys are going to quit.

I'm disheartened and disappointed.  While I don't see eye to eye with their perspectives, I respected them up to last night.  These guys are my brothers in arms.  If their guy would have won, I would have been disappointed, but I would have respected the outcome of the election.  Unfortunately, it looks like they're taking their ball and going home.  One of the old guys actually asked me to go outside and fight him.  I was dumbfounded!  I hope I never get that old and set in my ways.

Not Quite What I Expected

 When I made the conscious decision to take up my blog again, I said early on that I planned to focus on political stuff.  I was looking for a place where I could share my perspective on the issue of the day without the partisan bickering of Facebook.  This is my little corner of the interwebs, so I can generally say what I want.  Nobody can comment on this blog without my consent, meaning that I don't need to worry about the trolls.  And with a readership of almost zero, that's not an issue anyway.

You may also notice in the earlier post that I expressed the hope I would one day return to mundane blather.  Oddly enough, I'm already sick of the politics and have indeed returned to sharing my thoughts on uneventful occurrences.  I expected this would turn into a virtual version of me screaming, ranting and raging in an empty room.  Instead, it's a virtual version of me spewing a relatively disjointed and unfocused stream of consciousness in an empty room.  I'm good with this, it's just not quite what I expected.

That's My Girl!!

I need to brag on my younger daughter for a bit.

Her hubby's car crapped out yesterday.  It would start, but wouldn't run for Sh!+.  She called me to ask for my engine diagnostic reader, and pulled the codes.

The codes indicated a misfire in cylinder 1.  Research said the most likely culprits were a bad spark plug, a bad ignition coil, a bad fuel injector, or a vacuum leak.  She did the troubleshooting, she did the research, and then she consulted me.  We put our heads together and decided the easiest, cheapest course of action was to replace the spark plug.  After swapping out the plug, she reported that the engine was running a bit better, but was still not quite right.

Before continuing, I need to divert a bit... In my day, there was a single ignition coil.  While consulting with her and doing parallel troubleshooting from my house, I found out that modern engines have a separate coil for each cylinder, and the coil is directly connected to the spark plug.  Having learned this, I then researched how to test an ignition coil.  She beat me to the punch... she swapped out two coils and discovered that the trouble code moved to the next cylinder, showing that the ignition coil was defective.  That's right, my girl troubleshot and addressed the problem all on her own.

There's an itty bitty piece of me that wants to give her husband crap for not being mechanically inclined, but I'm not going to do that.  What he lacks in mechanical knowledge and desire to learn he makes up for by being an active, hands-on father, and by being involved in the day-to-day running of the household.  He shares in cooking, cleaning and childcare.  He's a good man who showers my daughter and my grandson with love and devotion.

But that's beside the point.  The gist of today's post is to brag on my little girl for her willingness and ability to identify and fix a moderately complex mechanical issue with virtually no external assistance, which is a rapidly vanishing skill in today's society.  That's my girl!!

Suicide Drone?

I saw an article yesterday that referred to "suicide drones."  The definition of suicide is the taking of one's own life.  This means, by definition, there is no such thing as a suicide drone for the following reasons:

-The drone is not alive, therefore, there is no life to take.

-The drone is not self-aware, so it did not choose to take its own life.

-The drone is controlled remotely by a human, so the drone did not take its own life.  In fact, if the drone were alive and self-aware, this so-called suicide drone would technically been murdered by the pilot.

U.S. and Israel Attack Iran

I woke up this morning to news that we have attacked Iran.  This is the second country we've invaded in two months.  If you include our oil blockade against Cuba, we are actively working to destabilize a third sovereign entity.

I'd like to remind people that the POTUS who did this is also the same guy who promised to get the U.S. out of "forever wars" ... the same guy who said that he could end the conflict in Ukraine ... the same guy who believes himself worthy of the Nobel Peace Prize... the same guy who promised no new wars.

The article I read said that Israel joined us in our strike, and that we have been planning this strike "for months," meaning the course of action was premeditated, not reactionary.  If any country deserves to be invaded, it's certainly Iran.  But I'm not convinced this is the right course of action at the right time.

I've said it before and I'll say it again.  It's hubris on our part to believe that everyone in the world wants our specific brand of freedom, and it's stupid for us to try to force it on the unwilling.

Run!

I got fired a couple of years ago from my previous job.  I was not fired for cause, though they tried unsuccessfully to dig up dirt on me.

The job started off great.  I was a high performer and was rewarded with a promotion after about a year.  Unfortunately, the CEO retired, and the new guy was radically different than his predecessor.  The old CEO came up through the ranks, personally knew the founder of the company, and fostered a culture that valued the employees.  The new guy was (and still is) the exact opposite.  He's laser focused on maximizing profit at all costs, and has zero tolerance for dissent in the ranks.  He's a know-it-all bully.  I made it about nine months into his tenure before I got the boot.

During that time, he cut staff by about 1/3, and he cut with a hatchet, not a scalpel.  Many of the best and brightest were dismissed, and there was a strong correlation with age and salary.  Those left behind were overworked, underpaid, and inexperienced.  As you can imagine, the environment radically shifted from being a place where people were happy to a culture of fear.

When I left, I was offered an insultingly low severance, which I declined.  A condition of that severance was a non-disparagement clause, meaning that I'd be unable to tell my story.  When they canned me, it was shortly after one of my employees committed suicide.  These bastards used his death to launch an investigation into me, alleging that I engaged in bullying behavior.  I was suspended for two weeks (with pay) while they conducted their "investigation."  When they "interviewed" me, they took something I said completely out of context and tried to say that I was behaving in an inappropriate manner.  Furthermore, this "incident" occurred completely outside of work.  It was an impromptu gathering of my team to celebrate the life of our deceased co-worker.  It was not company-sanctioned in any way, shape or form.

Since investigation did not yield anything that could get me fired for cause, they at-will fired me.  I know they fired me because I was highly compensated, because I stood up for my team, and because I did not quake in fear over C-Suite executives.  From my perspective, part of my job is to speak up if I see something wrong as opposed to cowering in the corner, keeping my head down and my mouth shut.

While I hate what the company has become, and have nothing but contempt for the leadership, I do keep in touch with former co-workers.  I also see a lot of activity on LinkedIn from these people, and from the company.  This evil empire still touts itself as a great place to work, and it's a total lie.  I constantly see people sharing LinkedIn posts saying "I'm happy to announce that I've landed a job at [company]" but to my knowledge, headcount has not grown at all.  This, of course, would indicate high turnover and a culture that remains $h!++y.

When I see these LinkedIn posts -- and I see them weekly -- I feel like I'm watching a horror flick.  I want to scream "run!" but I know they wouldn't listen any more than the characters in the slasher film.

Part of me wants to post my story on LinkedIn or Glassdoor, but I'm going to refrain.  That's a good way to get myself blacklisted, meaning I'd screw myself if I were to go job hunting in the future.  Employers tend to avoid potential employees who would dare speak truth to power.  

Let's Watch Rome Burn

It's been reported that Attorney General Pam Bondi has said (and I'm paraphrasing) if we were to prosecute everyone involved in the Epstein files, the whole system could collapse.  Let me start by saying that I haven't seen a concrete verification of this statement, but if she did say it, I would counter by saying that's not a reason to NOT do it... it's a reason TO do it.

We are supposed to live in a system that provides equal justice for all.  We ostensibly live in a society that protects the innocent.  By choosing to not enforce the core tenets of civilized society because doing so "could cause collapse," that system has already ceased to exist.  We're not supposed to do what's comfortable or convenient; we need to do what's right.

I'd like to clarify that I'm not talking about sex.  Heck, I've done the sex thing once or twice and I'm a big fan.  If you're an adult and you want to go to an island to to let your freak flag fly, then by all means knock yourself out.  The only conditions are that everyone involved in that snake ball must be a willing participant, and old enough to give informed consent.  To clarify further, I don't care if some or all of the participants are prostitutes, as long as they are willing, and of legal age.  In the grand scheme of things, that's a pretty low bar of acceptability.

If we're not prosecuting people because the system could collapse, then I say let's watch Rome burn.  I'll bring the fiddle... and the marshmallows.

Eliminate the State of the Union Address

Here's a fun fact... a lot of people mistakenly believe that the annual State of the Union (SOTU) address is required. It's not. While the Constitution mandates that the President periodically give Congress information on the State of the Union, there is no requirement that it be delivered in person, that it's annual, or that it's broadcast to the public.  I believe it's time to get rid of the dog and pony show that SOTU has become.  The longstanding "opposition response" should demonstrate how SOTU has devolved from a constitutional duty to partisan showmanship, which in my opinion undermines the original idea.

I need to share that this is not my original idea.  I read or heard the idea, thought about it for a bit, and realized that the idea has some merit.  Let's quit giving these @$$ clowns so much attention, so they can get back to their actual jobs, which is running the country.  And to clarify, I'm talking about all of the elected clowns in the car, not just the executive branch, and not just a single party.

While there is no concrete proof or consensus, there's a general agreement that elected officials tend to have a higher rate of narcissism than the population at large.  It's also established that narcissists thrive on attention.  The most effective method of reshaping that attention-seeking behavior is to ignore it.  We need to stop paying attention to negative and manipulative behavior.  By eliminating the State of the Union address (in its current form) we are removing one of the stages our elected officials use to seek and gain attention.

Do Atheists Believe in Soul Mates?

I find the concept of soul mates a little far-fetched.  After all, there are over 8 billion people in the world right now.  If there is one perfect fit for each person, the odds of finding that specific individual is infinitesimal, because geographically speaking that person could be anywhere.  It's also statistically likely that any two given soul mates can't speak the same language.

If soul mates exist, the most likely demographic to find their one and only would be citizens of India.  Their population is about 1.5 billion, meaning at least they have just under a 20% chance of their perfect match living in the same country.  By way of comparison, citizens of Monaco, a country with a population of about 40,000, stand less than a hundred thousandth of a percent chance of living in the same country as that special someone.  Specifically they have a 0.000005 percent chance of living in the same country as their soul mate.

Mathematically speaking, this means that if soul mates exist, either you're almost guaranteed to never find your soul mate, or some external factor would need to exist that guides one to the right individual, at the proper time, in the correct place. Anecdotally speaking, this external factor would need to possess some form of awareness, otherwise it would be unable to identify the correct pair before bringing them together.

This, of course, brings me back to my basic question.  Do atheists believe in soul mates?

The Food Cylinder

I grew up with the food pyramid.  While I'm a bit older than the food pyramid of the 80's, it's certainly all I specifically recall about nutrition.  For those of you who are unfamiliar, the base of the pyramid was the bread and cereal group.  the next level up was the fruit and vegetable group, and the top level was the meat group.

The new food pyramid, implemented under Robert F. Kennedy Jr., current Secretery of Health and Human Services, has not quite flipped that on its head by recommending a base of fruits and vegetables, with meat in the middle, and grains at the top of the pyramid.

Before I go any further, I need to state for the record that I believe RFK Jr. is a conspiracy theorist nutjob, and as such, I'm generally disinclined to give credence to anything he says.  In this specific case though, there may be something to what he's saying.  (Hey, I'm more interested in truth than I am in discrediting people with whom I disagree; truth is more important than pride.)

And while I also hold a disdain for Fox "News," I will credit them for getting me to re-examine my original skepticism regarding the new food pyramid.  The gist of what got me to reconsider my preconceived bias was an article that pointed out how obesity really exploded around the time that the old food pyramid came out.  This also corresponds with when the medical community started encouraging low fat diets.

Now I'm going to pull in my history, because it's important to this story.  I grew up as a Midwest kid, meaning I was raised on meat and potatoes... and the potatoes were usually smothered in butter.  There were certainly fruits and vegetables served with each meal, much to our youthful disgust.  Breakfasts consisted of unsweetened cereal, but I always corrected that travesty with heaping teaspoons of granulated sugar on my Cheerios.  My point here is that my childhood diet didn't exactly follow the dietary guidelines of the day.

I'm going to gloss over the diet of my late teens and early 20's for a couple of reasons: 1) At a macro level, most young adults tend to have a $h!++y diet.  I feel this is partly because young adults a) tend to go wild and eat the things they were denied as children, b) tend to lack the skills and materials to cook for themselves, or c) lack the financial resources required for a well-rounded diet.  2) In my specific case, I was in the military, so my nutritional needs were generally met at the chow hall.

After the military, wife 1.0 did most of the cooking, but I did have a reasonable amount of influence over our diet.  After we split, I became master of my dietary destiny, though wife 2.2 did manage to sway some of my culinary tastes and practices.  With my dietary history out of the way, let's talk about my personal experience.

I should start by sharing a bit about my physical condition.  I'm sharing this because in this specific case, my physique directly impacts my credibility.  I have no formal education or training in this area, so I can only share my experience.  And with that in mind, I'd have zero credibility if I were shaped like a marshmallow.  Conversely, if I had the build of a bodybuilder, I'd have outsized credibility.  So, let's say this...

I'm 57 years old 

I'm about 5'10"

I have never weighed more than 165 lbs. in my life.

I currently weigh about 155 lbs, and have for 20+ years.

I am physically active. I can run 3 miles in about 30 minutes.  I can do about 7 pull-ups.  When I do a toe touch, my knees are locked, and my middle knuckle can touch the floor.  I can swim a mile in about 45 minutes.

In other words, I'm going on 60 and am in better physical condition than the vast majority of young adults.

Okay, getting back to the nutrition discussion... as a kid, I was taught a low fat diet based on the food pyramid.  The reality was close, but it was more of a food cylinder.  I ate way more meat than suggested.  I consumed far less grain than recommended.  I probably ate about the right amount of fruits and vegetables.

I carried this personal preference into my adulthood.  I formally realized my dietary preferences and practices somewhere in my mid 30's.  That's about the time I started calling my diet the food cylinder.  Here's a general overview of what my diet looks like:

As implied by my "food cylinder" comment, I tend to eat meat, dairy, grain and fruits/vegetables in about the same amount.  My meat is primarily poultry.  Red meat is a medium-distant second, and fish falls waaay behind red meat.  My dairy intake is almost exclusively cheese, but I eat a lot of it.  I don't do much milk, yogurt, etc.  My fruit and vegetable intake weighs very heavily toward vegetables.  My grain intake is generally bread, tortillas and tortilla chips, all of which lean toward whole grain.

I consume very little fried food.  While I grew up sauteing in butter, I changed to olive oil.  I rarely eat dessert.  When I do eat sweets, it's usually one or two kid-sized snickers or reese's, a little ice cream, or a slice of cheesecake.

I tend to eat a small brunch and a larger dinner.

I generally drink water, and occasionally treat myself with 100% fruit juice.

My dietary indulgences are salt and beer. 

After I pondered all of this, I grudgingly realized that RFK jr. may be onto something.  If you take a look, the two common items that are most glaringly absent from my diet are highly processed carbohydrates, sugar, and highly processed meat.  That's what really got my attention from RFK's new food pyramid... it's about highly-processed food.  Anecdotally speaking, grain-based food is most susceptible to excessive refinement.  Think about it... at a fundamental level, chips and cookies are about the easiest foods on the planet to over-process.  Furthermore, grain-based food is the cheapest to produce and consume, because they have a crazy long shelf life.

Now that I've said this, I MUST remind you, dear reader, that correlation is not causation. Furthermore, if you take my word as authoritative, you are likely falling to the hasty generalization fallacy.  I am not trying to present myself as an authority in this area.  All I'm doing is sharing my experience, and acknowledging that I've been given food for thought.  (No pun intended.)  As is usually the case, I encourage you to do your own independent research, specifically focusing on viewpoints that challenge your own preconceived notions.

Gonna Sound Cold

This is going to sound cold and uncaring, but I'm of the opinion that the media is spending too much time talking about Nancy Guthrie.  For those of you who are unaware, Nancy Guthrie is the mother of journalist Savannah Guthrie, and she disappeared a couple of weeks ago under mysterious circumstances.

Before you go branding me heartless and unfeeling, hear me out.  People go missing every single day.  If we were to give this kind of press to everyone who went missing, we'd have entire television station channels and newspapers that did nothing but discuss the missing.  From my perspective, the attention that Nancy Guthrie's disappearance is receiving is just another example of the rich and famous receiving preferential treatment.

I'd also like to clarify that if I were in Savannah Guthrie's shoes, I'd do the same thing.  I'd absolutely leverage my connections to ensure the safe return of my missing loved one.  In that respect, I freely admit that I'm a bit hypocritical.

I'd also like to note that I'm not exactly decrying the indisputable fact that life is unfair.  I get it, and I accept it.  It's just that every now and then, such as here, and with the Epstein files, it's frustrating and discouraging to be constantly reminded how far the scales of justice and fairness are tipped toward the social elite.

He'll Never Know

At a previous job, I served as an IT manager, and I was pretty good at it.  After only a year, I received a promotion that doubled the size of my team.  With the expanded team, I inherited a problematic employee.  He was good at his job, but he had poor people skills, he wasn't really interested in expanding his skill set, and he groused about working outside of his scheduled shift.  (That last item is problematic in the IT field.)  One of my tasks was getting this guy to improve as an employee or move on.  From a manager's perspective, the guy was chaos incarnate.  He had an endless series of emergencies that required people to carry his load.  I gave him opportunities to shine and he consistently shot himself in the foot.

I was kind of desperate to help him succeed, so I sent him to help set up a new office.  The job was incredibly simple.  All he had to do was set up and test all of the new computers and phones.  A high school kid could do it.  He still failed.  During the setup, he got into an argument with another employee, who was tasked with physically setting up the cubes.  The argument was over the phone, and my guy got hostile with the other dude and hung up on him.  The other guy reported him to his supervisor, who reported it to me.

Furthermore, he failed to set up all of the workstations.  The reason he failed the setup is because there was a shortage of monitors.  However, he was scheduled to be there long enough that if he'd have simply counted what was needed vs. what was on hand on day one, I could have ordered what was missing and had it there before the office was opened.  Instead, he just let it go, and I didn't find out until the new office manager told me that we had an incomplete setup.  I had to fly to that office personally to fix the technical issues and politically smooth things over.  As you can imagine, I was ready to write the guy up.  A day or two after I returned, but before I wrote him up, he called me, saying he needed a few days off because he was being evicted from his house.

Later that day, I had a meeting with my boss, and told her about his failures, and she instructed me to fire him.  I refused and told her that he'd just been evicted from his home.  She stood firm.  While I acknowledged that his behavior and work (or lack thereof) were worthy of termination, I'm a human being before I'm a manager.  I told my boss that regardless of performance, firing someone immediately after being evicted was inhumane, and that I wouldn't be a part of it.  She agreed to "settle" for me writing him up, with the stipulation that I expressly state that any further infractions would result in termination.  When I wrote him up, I never told him that I saved his job.  I didn't want to throw my boss under the boss, and I didn't want to be seen as his savior.

At the end of the year, when it was time for annual reviews and raises, I rated him as a marginal employee and recommended a minimal raise.  I was again overridden and told that he would receive zero raise.  The thing is, I used all of my goodwill leverage saving this guy's job.  However, since I had no choice in the matter, I did not feel obligated to shield my boss, so I did inform him that I requested a raise and was overridden.  (It was actually my boss's boss who made the no raise decision, and I shared that.)  I said that I fought the good fight, and that I believed he would likely not progress past his current position at this company. 

He got the hint and within a month or two, he had landed a new job.  We're connected on LinkedIn, and he seems to be doing well at his new job.  I'm happy for him, and I wish him nothing but success.  But to this day, he doesn't know that I traded all of the political clout I'd built up just to save his job... meaning that I allowed him to leave on his timeline instead of getting fired when his life was already in a shambles.  I didn't do this because he was a great employee.  He wasn't.  I did it because he's human, and like I said earlier, to fire him right after losing his house would have been inhumane.

New Dictionary Word

I had a phone call with my mother a couple of days ago, and as usual, it was VERY one-sided, and I couldn't get a word in edgewise.  The event prompted me to create a new word.

Momologue: (noun)  A conversation with your mother, where she does all of the talking. 

Spoiled Little Princess

I mentioned last month that I had to put down my faithful canine companion, Gilmour.  What I did not discuss in that post was my concern how his "sister" Lainie would adjust.

I adopted Lainie from the Humane Society about nine years ago.  She's my fourth dog as an adult, and they were all pound puppies.  Lainie was a little different though.  The first three dogs all came to me as puppies, and Lainie was about two years old when she chose me.

When I brought her home, she was very timid.  I didn't hear her bark for the first couple of months.  She was also very protective of her food.  Shortly after bringing her home, I gave Gilmour and Lainie each a rawhide dog bone.  Somewhere along the line, she started to walk away from the rawhide, so Gilmour moved in and tried to take it.  She went after him as if she was rabid.  Fortunately, because she was still new to the house, I had been keeping a close eye on her and I was able to quickly break up the fight.  Fun fact:  Neither dog has touched a rawhide since that day.

The next morning, wifey was worried that the dogs would get into a fight and asked me to separate the dogs while were at work, so I put her in the guest bedroom.  (Lainie, not my wife.)  While we were at work, she got a case of isolation anxiety and destroyed the bedroom, shredding carpet, pulling down curtains, chewing window frames, and eventually busting through the hollow-core bedroom door.  (Again, Lainie, not my wife.)  When I got home, she and Gilmour were contentedly laying on the couch together as if they were litter mates.  From that time, until I put Gilmour down, Lainie had never been alone for more than a few minutes at a time.  She and Gilmour were attached at the hip (much to Gilmour's occasional annoyance.)

Lainie has always been deferential to Gilmour.  She let him eat first.  She let him exit and enter the house first when it was time to go outside.  She always walked a couple of paces behind him.  She adored him and followed him everywhere.  With this in mind, I made sure she was present when we put him down.  I firmly believe that dogs know when someone in their pack dies if they can sniff the body.  When he breathed his last, she laid down across from him and put her front paws on his, and sniffed his face.  It was almost like she was holding his hands as he passed away.  It chokes me up thinking about it.

I work from home, so I was not incredibly worried about her being by herself all day, but my wife and I do lead reasonably active lifestyles.  This means that Lainie would be left alone for an hour or two at a time.  I was a bit nervous about that the first time, but my fear proved unfounded.  When I returned, she was calmly laying by the door, wagging her tail as I walked in.  The dog hair on my bed revealed that she was laying on the bed while I was gone.  She's not allowed on the bed, but that's not the hill I'm gonna die on.  If that keeps her calm when she's alone, I'm okay with it.

My nerves kicked in again when wifey and I had to drop everything and go to see my older daughter.  My son-in-law came by to check on her a couple of times daily, making sure to stay and play, but for the most part, she was alone for about four days, and this was within a couple of weeks of putting Gilmour down.  Lainie was a trooper though, and she's proven all of my concerns unfounded.

Now that I'm back home, Lainie and I have essentially been constant companions.  She's incredibly mellow without Gilmour around.  She constantly lays at my feet when I'm seated, and dutifully follows me around when I get up.  She consistently lays on my side of the bed, and she lights up when I take a quick break from whatever I'm doing to give her a bit of attention.  She's incredibly well-behaved when we go on our walks.  For the most part, she walks next to me off leash. I only put on the leash when people or other dogs approach, and even that's primarily because it's socially expected.  She's become the spoiled little princess that I always knew she could be. 

Kids These Days

I believe I've mentioned more than once that I'm a Marine Corps veteran.  (Doesn't every Marine do that?)  I only served six years, but that period of my life has an outsized impact on who I am, even now.  I'm not here to brag about my service though.  I'm here to talk about how I'm fortunate to serve the Marine Corps today.

It all started with the 2024 Marine Corps Ball.  After years of trying, we finally convinced a local recruiter to attend the local Ball that my Marine Corps League detachment hosts each year.  During the event, I thanked the recruiter for attending, and told him how we'd been trying for years to forge a relationship with the office, with no success.  I asked how we can help with his mission, suggesting that my detachment Marines could come in and share some of their war stories and experiences.

As a result of that conversation, I now engage in weekly PT sessions with Marine Corps Poolees.  (PT is the acronym for "physical training," AKA weekly workouts.  Poolees are people on delayed entry, meaning they have signed the enlistment paperwork, but have not yet gone to boot camp.)  When I say "engage," this means that I'm serving in a hybrid role.

At the beginning, I was kind of a glorified poolee, meaning that I would go through the workouts as if I were a poolee myself.  Over time, I earned the trust and respect of the recruiters, and my role has evolved.  I am now more of an advocate, ambassador, and role model.  While I do still work out with these kids, I have been granted the freedom to correct poolees when they do something wrong, such as incorrectly standing at the position of attention.  Instead of just participating in the PT, I sort of lead it, with a focus on providing more one-on-one guidance and encouragement to poolees who are struggling with physical fitness.  I run the monthly physical fitness test right alongside of them.

These kids consistently fill me with a unique combination of dismay and pride.  It's crazy how many can't do a single pull-up when they walk in the door.  Well over 50% of the time, I can do more pull-ups, plank longer AND run faster than a new poolee.  There have been many cases where I could outperform these kids in at least one of these events up to the day they shipped off to boot camp.  With a handful of exceptions, I am triple the age of these future Marines.  Imagine how humbling it must be for them to be beaten by someone old enough to be their grandfather!

The recruiters use this to their advantage, of course. They tell the poolees that I am the minimum standard for physical performance.  It gives the kids something concrete to strive for, and it's awesome to see their sense of accomplishment when they can outperform me in any area.  At the same time, they motivate me to continually give them my best as well.

I would like to clarify that I am in this role at the pleasure of the local recruiters.They are always present (or at least nearby.)  I do not interact with the poolees outside of the recruiting office.  My official reason for being there is to serve as an ambassador for the Marine Corps League.  I'm planting the seed now, with the hope that it grows into future membership when the leave the Marine Corps.  In reality though, that's only a small piece.  I consider the recruiters my friends, and I want them to succeed.  I am invested in the well-being of these future Marines.  It brings me a great deal of joy to see them after they've graduated boot camp.  It also saddens me to see the occasional washout, such as the young man who got booted from the pool because he got a DUI after attending a high school graduation party.

I suspect the phrase "kids these days" is as old as society itself.  It's a dismissive quip that allows old farts like me to summarily dismiss and deride aspects of youth culture that I don't understand or don't respect, just like my parents and grandparents did when I was a kid.  Yes, it's true that kids today are soft, entitled and addicted to their technology.  But they're more than that.  They're still idealistic, eager to learn, and willing to serve.  They just need a bit of guidance and a solid opportunity to do so.  I'm fortunate to be in a position that allows me to provide some of that guidance and help them maximize the opportunity they're seizing.  It's a unique privilege, and I am grateful for the opportunity to participate.

Valentine's Day is Complicated

 Today's Post is inspired by Sunny...

I have a complicated relationship with Valentine's Day.  For the most part, I don't like this made-up holiday that tries to pressure me into doing something for that special someone.  Funk dat!  Let me do something nice because I want to, not because of an artificially created event that serves no purpose other than pressuring me into lining the pockets of Corporate America.

Going way back to my childhood, I remember being expected to participate in elementary school, and being required to give everyone in my class a valentine, including boys, and including people I didn't even like.  I remember my mom and I going to pick up a box of Valentine's Day cards, and never having the exact right amount at the end.  I remember trying to sort the cards so that my male friends got "cool" cards, the best cards went to the cutest girls, and the rest went to the people I didn't like.  I vaguely recall this evil tradition ending in middle school.

Middle school and early high school were the awkward years, and boy was I awkward.  Since I was toward the bottom end of the social ladder during that time, there was zero chance that I was going to be the dork who gave my crush a card, only to have her turn around and humiliate me by publicly rejecting me and loudly proclaiming "Hey everyone, Evan gave me a Valentine!  Like that loser would have a chance with me," followed by derisive laughter from everyone in the school.  Nope.  Not gonna take that risk.

During my junior and senior year of high school, I came to grips with the fact that I'd never be part of the in crowd, and I was fine with that.  I saw the social hierarchy of high school for what it was... a shallow popularity contest that I had no chance of winning... so I didn't play.  The best way to describe me is a unique and slightly bizarre combination of John Bender, Brian Johnson and Allison Reynolds from Breakfast Club.  I was boisterous and rebellious like Bender.  I was nerdy like Brian.  I was a nonconformist like Reynolds.  I recall this generally working for me, because I never got stuffed into lockers, but I also didn't allow myself to get really close to a lot of people.  I ran in virtually all of the cliques, but didn't exactly fit into any of them.  So yeah, Valentine's Day wasn't a thing at that point.

The first time Valentine's Day really mattered to me, that $h!+ blew up in my face... big time.  I was dating the woman who would become wife 1.0.  I pulled out all the stops. I took her to a really fancy, expensive restaurant with an ocean view.  I spent a $h!+ ton of money trying to demonstrate that I really liked this woman.  I think I spent a full paycheck, but my memory is a bit fuzzy after 3+ decades.  What I do recall is that she seemed a bit... under-appreciative... of the work I put into the date.

But wait, there's more!  After a couple of weeks, she came to me, announcing that she was pregnant... and she wasn't sure the kid was mine.  I was fooking crushed!  She gave me some lame excuse that we 'hadn't discussed exclusive dating.'  At that point, I had a choice... I could commit, or I could see her for what she was and run for the hills.  I chose to commit, on the condition that she committed too.  I very distinctly recall saying that she needed to $h!+ or get off the pot.  We got married shortly thereafter.

At this point, I need to divert a bit and share that wife 1.0 was high maintenance and demanding.  The entire world revolved around her.  To this day, my girls say the same thing... as far as she's concerned, it's her world, and we're privileged to live in it.  The entire time we were together, she expected fancy events and expensive stuff for Valentine's Day (and Mother's Day, and her birthday, and Christmas, and our anniversary,) because dammit, she was worth it... never realizing that her expectations wore a hole in my soul by forcing me to relive that first Valentine's Day.  (By the way, the kid is mine.)  As you can imagine, by the time we split up I outright resented Valentine's Day.

Fast forward several years... I had just started dating the woman who would become wife 2.2.  Everything was exciting and new.  We'd been dating a short time, but man, there was something about her!  I invited her to my house for a Valentine's Day dinner and a quiet evening in.  I was freaking giddy over this girl!  I made her a mix tape of sappy music.  (It was actually a CD, but you get the idea.)  I made spaghetti from scratch (the sauce, not the noodles) and garlic bread.  I served us some low-end red wine in the only two wine glasses I owned.  My divorce was still in process and I was still broke, but I wanted to do something special.

It was the first Valentine's Day since 1.0 and I had split, but none of that mattered.  It was just us.  In a bizarre coincidence, future 2.2 and I decided that we were going to pursue this budding relationship.  Now, here we are, 20+ years later and I love her as much as -- no, more than -- I did on that Valentine's Day so many years ago.

After all that time, I still have a complicated relationship with Valentine's Day.  It's not because of 1.0, but that is a factor.  It's primarily because I dislike the social expectations that accompany this commercialized pseudo-holiday.  I really despise the idea that I should be expected to profess my devotion on a specific day each year, and the socially-expected manner of expression is by purchasing expensive flowers with a short shelf life and overpriced chocolate in a heart-shaped box.

I love my wife dearly.  She knows it, and I know it.  I express that love by sitting on the couch with her and taking turns with the remote to the only TV in the house.  I demonstrate my feelings by holding her hand, kissing her, and hugging her each day we're together.  I show that devotion by getting her flowers for no reason at all.  I exhibit endearment by tackling all of the stereotypical male chores around the house while simultaneously sharing traditional wifely duties such as cooking, cleaning and laundry.

I will admit that we usually do something for Valentine's Day, but it's not the typical romantic dinner, chocolate, and dozen roses.  It's usually not on Valentine's Day.  We generally do something during the week because we get the sentiment behind the commercialism.  As for my relationship with the holiday?  Well, it's still complicated. 

Best Kraut Ever!

Preparing and sharing food  is one of the ways I show love to close friends and family.  I firmly believe that cooking is one of the things that helped me seal the deal with my wonderful wife (2.2).  I've prepared the Thanksgiving turkey for over 20 years.  What started out of necessity evolved into an enjoyable pastime.

When I say I started out of necessity, I'm not joking.  When wife 1.0 and I split up, I was quite literally living hand to mouth.  I needed to feed myself and my daughters, and going out to eat was absolutely out of the question.  I frequently had meat once per week, and the only food items I could readily afford were rice, potatoes, canned tuna and frozen vegetables.  This meant that I had a choice between eating the same exact thing day after day, or getting creative with meal prep.  I chose the latter.

My preferred type of cooking initially revolved around feeding my family.  I started out with the stupid easy stuff like mac-n-cheese (Kraft), hamburger helper and similar stuff.  From there, I expanded into easy recipes like spaghetti and casseroles, eventually moving to more traditional meals with a meat dish, some starch, and vegetables.  I also enjoy doing simple but hearty meals that can give me leftovers for a few days, such as pot roast in the crock pot.  My forte is foraging around the house and preparing a meal based on what's on hand.  It's a great combination of creativity and practicality.

My repertoire of meals has greatly expanded over the years.  For example, I don't consider myself a baker, but I can work some serious magic with sourdough.  I make a mean jalapeno and cheese sourdough, and I've created a couple of unique variations such as dill pickle sourdough and a red wine/craisin sourdough.

A couple of years back, I expanded into pickling and preserving food.  I've got a couple of pickle recipes my family absolutely loves, and my friends light up when I give them a jar of my black raspberry jam.  (This jam is a once-a-year treat, because I forage the black raspberries.  I spend about a month gathering the berries and a week preparing the jam.  It's definitely a labor of love.)

I didn't like sauerkraut growing up and didn't really develop a taste for it until a few years ago.  Yeah, I'm late to the party, but I eventually arrived.  Once I started eating it, it didn't take long for me to learn to make it.  I no longer buy sauerkraut; I make it.  It takes a long time to ferment, but the actual process of making it is stupid easy.  It's also ridiculously simple to tweak the basic recipe with add-ins such as caraway or mustard seed.  NOTE: When it comes to add-in spices, a little bit goes a long way.

I just finished a batch of kraut that I'm deeming best kraut ever!  The recipe is simple... just add some shredded apple and shredded carrot to the cabbage.  (I used white cabbage, but you can absolutely use purple if you prefer.  The end result provides an extra touch of sweetness, but that tiny change adds a ton of complexity to the flavor.  You still add salt based on the total weight of cabbage+carrot+apple, using the same salting ratio.

AI is a Lie

Have you noticed that every AI company leader says that [insert big technology break here] is just over the horizon?  Have you noticed how long they've been saying it?  That's because AI is a lie.

Have you noticed how frequently AI returns results that are wildly incorrect (hallucinations) or overly flattering (sycophantic)?  That's because AI is a lie.

You might think that I'm engaging in a bit of hyperbole, but I am not.  Indeed, the concept of Artificial Intelligence, at least as it stands today, is the genuine hyperbole.  To illustrate my point, I'd like to fall back on a couple of definitions. 1) Intelligence:  The ability to learn, understand, reason, solve problems, and adapt to new situations, using capacities like logic, abstract thinking, and using knowledge effectively for survival and success in diverse environments.  2) Hyperbole:  Exaggerated statements or claims not meant to be taken literally.  Until Artificial Intelligence can adapt to new situations and apply abstract thinking, AI is hyperbole because it's not actually intelligent.

I'd also like to clarify that Artificial Intelligence has two distinct and separate aspects: 1) Large Language Model (LLM) is the the technology that allows a computer to present information in a manner that appears conversational.  2) Machine Learning (ML) is the technology that allows computers to identify patterns and make predictions.  Neither of these aspects of AI are truly intelligence; rather, they are incredibly complex computer programs that work because of an unfathomable amount of available data, and a phenomenal amount of human oversight and error correction.  To paraphrase an IT Security friend and colleague of mine, AI is basically fancy Google.  You ask the question, and you receive a response which may or may not be factual and practical.

AI can do a few things with tremendous efficiency.  For example, it can paraphrase or summarize an existing article, paper or piece of literary work based on a massive database of dictionary definitions and a meticulously-defined set of linguistic rules.  This is how LLM AI works.  It can also make predictions based on historical data.  That's how Machine Learning works.  AI is great for performing mundane, repetitive tasks that require no creativity or abstract thinking.  However, I do not envision a world where computers independently and spontaneously create the next great invention, such as the automobile, or the computer.  (See what I did there??)

Let me use automated manufacturing as a lousy analogy.  In my example, a set of robotic arms is designed to weld two pieces of metal together.  Without explicit training, these robotic arms will not know if the weld is accurate and strong. These arms would not know they're out of flux without sensors and programming.  These robotic arms would not innately know that trying to weld two pieces of wood together would not work.  By extension, LLM AI cannot spontaneously write the next great novel, and Generative AI cannot create an intricate piece of art without being fed some sort of parameters.

As I mentioned earlier, two of the greatest shortcomings of AI are hallucinations and sycophancy.  Both of these deficiencies are based on limits that cannot be easily overcome.  In a well-known example, someone once asked AI how to keep cheese from sliding off of a slice of pizza, and the AI chatbot said to use glue.  From my understanding, this answer came from a Reddit post, where someone humorously used this advice for a similar question.  It's factually correct of course, but it's a hallucination because the AI bot didn't understand that glue is inedible.  Sycophancy is a result of the human inability to recognize and agree on basic facts.  (Human stupidity trumps artificial intelligence every time.)

The root problem is that Artificial Intelligence has been marketed as a panacea, and society has eagerly bought into that lie.  AI still has great potential, but we need to acknowledge the limits of the technology.  Until that happens, AI is a lie. 

They'll Be Fine

I returned home late last night after an unscheduled visit to see my older daughter, and I guess it's time to tell the full story...

The tale starts a bit over a year ago, around Thanksgiving 2024.  My ex was having relationship issues.  Her boyfriend, or fiancee or whatever, was a recovering alcoholic who had fallen off the wagon, and she decided enough was enough.

After discussing options, my older daughter and her husband agreed to let the ex move in.  The plan was that the ex would buy an RV, and my son-in-law would build an RV pad in the back 40 of their property, complete with electricity and sewage.  I know I was skeptical this would work out as advertised, and I believe I shared this with my daughter, but I cannot say this with absolute certainty.

Fast-forward a year or so, and my ex was still living in the house, working a part-time job, and not really contributing to the household.  My daughter's family started calling her the troll, because she spent all of her time in her bedroom.  As you might imagine, this started causing a bit of tension around the house.

Before I continue the linear progression of the story, I should share that my ex did indeed purchase an RV, but it didn't run, and it was not weather tight.  I understand that she made it weather proof, but can't say for certain.  Son-in-law (SIL) was working 12/7, so he didn't really have the time to do the work required to get the ex (X) out of the house and into the RV.

What did happen is that SIL would come home after a 12-hour shift (plus the commute each way to the job site) to a mother-in-law who just sat around, rotting away.  One could imagine how this might cause stress in the household, and this is happening every day, for months on end.

SIL is a bit conflict avoidant and never found the testicular fortitude to tell X that something needed to change.  Eventually, his stress built up to the point where SIL mistreated X's dog, repeatedly.  To my understanding, the abuse was not severe, but it was certainly not healthy.  My grandson heard it and recorded the audio with his phone.  He then told X, who bought a nanny cam and caught the mistreatment on video.

In the video, SIL walked into X's room, saw dog laying on the bed, grabbed the dog by the collar, tossed it off the bed, and walked out.  It was unwarranted.  It was f*ck3d up.  It was traumatic for the dog.  It was also minor.  X and grandson kind of hyped things up in their minds and went to daughter with a united front.  Grandson said he didn't feel safe.  Daughter understandably freaked out.  SIL got kicked out, and Daughter fell apart.  So I went out and helped my little girl deal.

By the time I got there, a couple of days had passed, and so had the worst of the stress.  Daughter and her family realized things couldn't continue without change and they made appointments for counseling... family counseling, SIL counseling and grandson counseling.  X is moving out... and moving back in with alcoholic ex-boyfriend.

This, of course, is the short story.  Daughter, SIL and grandson are all committed to making things work.  I've made a point of telling them ALL that progress won't work in a predictable manner... that they need to expect progress to work in a non-linear fashion.  This is a $h!++y scene, and X is the bringer of the chaos.  (After she had a conversation with daughter, where X said that moving out is the best way forward, she called younger daughter and said that older daughter is kicking her out.)  But in the end, I'm firmly convinced they'll be fine.

Dodged A Bullet

I haven't yet mentioned that my ex-wife lives with my daughter.  I don't hate my ex, but I don't like her either.  To paraphrase my kids, my ex lives in her own world, and we're privileged enough to be able to share it with her.

My ex is a troll.  Again, my own kids' words.  I've been here for a bit over a week and she's effectively never left her room.  At first, I thought she was doing it out of some misplaced sense of consideration, but I asked my daughter if that was the case, and she said no, she's always in her room, and they call her the troll for that reason.

My ex can't hold a job.  She got fired from a part time job at a sandwich shop.

My ex doesn't contribute to the household.  Okay, that's not completely true.  She has taken my grandson to and from school.  She's fed the family dogs.  She's made food - for herself - once.  But once she was done eating, she went back to the bedroom without cleaning her mess and putting her leftovers away.

She's moving out.  I think this is good, but in my older daughter's words, she moved in, lived here rent free for a year and now that $h!+'s getting tough, she's moving out.  She always takes the easy way out, and she never has consequences.

She's physically falling apart.  I see her get up from the couch and walk across the room and she's an old woman.  There's no spring in her step or twinkle in her eye.  She's just a beaten old woman.

This week with my daughter drove home how awesome I have it with wife 2.2.  She's SUCH an upgrade!  I've been reminded what I'd be married to if my ex hadn't decided that she wanted out.  That divorce devastated me, and this week has demonstrated how much of a blessing that crushing blow was.

A Five Star Review

 I mentioned in my last post that I'm visiting my older daughter for a family emergency.  Let me start by saying it's all good... nobody is dead or dying or injured or critically ill.

With that said though, older daughter asked for help and it's been all hands on deck.  I came out and am staying for a couple of weeks total.  Younger daughter came and left.  Wifey came and left.  This gave us all some time with family in combinations we haven't done for a while.  My kids made my heart melt...

My girls and I went on a hike a couple of days ago, and as is usually the case, we kind of talked about everything and nothing.  During the conversation one of my girls said "Dad, [sister] and I have said time and time again that you were literally put on this earth to be a dad."  My wife and my kids are without a doubt the center of my world.  And while I've heard that comment before, I've got to admit that every time I hear it, my eyes may leak a little bit.  It's kind of like when your favorite customer gives you a five star review.

Well... That Was... Challenging

 I had to make an unexpected trip to help my daughter with a family emergency.  She's never asked me to drop everything and come help before, so of course I did exactly that.  I got a plane ticket scheduled to leave my place around 5:00 AM next day and arrive at her place around noon.  Things didn't exactly go as planned.

About two hours after I booked my flight, I received notice that my flight had been canceled and the airline automatically rebooked me.  The rebooked flight left at 6:00 PM, with an overnight layover in Chicago.  The second leg of the flight left Chicago at 5:00 AM, another (additional) layover in Phoenix, and then arrival at daughter's place around noon next day.  Sigh...

I arrived at the airport and my flight ended up being delayed by about three hours.  No big deal, because the layover in Chicago was long anyway...

Around midnight, while at the Chicago airport, I found out that the second leg of my flight was canceled and the airline was unable to automatically reschedule.  I spent the next hour in line to speak with an airline customer service rep for rebooking.

The customer service rep found me a new flight scheduled to leave at 5:00 AM the NEXT day... meaning I'd be stuck in Chicago for about 36 hours.  Fortunately, another rep found me a trip leaving around 8:00.  But I still ended up sleeping at the airport.  (This was my choice.  It was less hassle to sleep in the airport than to go a hotel at 2:00 AM and then come back through TSA.)

That flight was also delayed.  I was worried that I'd miss my final connecting flight.  But no.  Why?  Because the final flight was late too.

In the end, it was a misadventure.  It was... challenging.  But I'm here for my little girl.  That's what matters. 

Oh yeah... one of the stops ended up being in San Diego, so I got to see MCRD San Diego, where I went to Marine Corps Boot Camp.  A quick detour down memory lane. 

Translation Below

I just read an article saying that ICE agents will be appearing at the Super Bowl.

Translation:  Gregory Bovino wants to watch the big game live, but doesn't have the clout, cash or connections to get his hands on a real ticket. 

We Need to Expand Our Vocabulary

Tragic... epic... owned... destroyed... unprecedented... heroic...

These are words I tend to see multiple times daily.  I'd like to point out the fact that these words are all considered superlatives when taken in context, and they're invariably used to grab the audience's attention.  Mass media and social media content generators alike love their dazzling headlines, and quite frankly, I'm over it.

To use a fictitious example, the death of a social media influencer's dog is not the same as 100 people dying in a train wreck that also somehow released a massive amount of toxic fluid into the local water supply, yet in both cases, the author of each article is likely to use the word tragic.  The dictionary definition of tragic is causing or characterized by extreme distress or sorrow.  While technically correct in both of these fictitious examples, the scale is radically different.  The passing of a canine companion can certainly be considered tragic to the owner, but it cannot realistically be compared to an event that causes massive ecologic damage and large-scale human death.

There's an old adage in business that says if everything is urgent, then nothing is urgent.  The idea behind this is that treating everything as an emergency dilutes all things critical, because we cannot categorize and prioritize.  The same core principle applies with over-utilizing extreme language in writing.  The end result is that the reader becomes desensitized, and the word loses impact.

I'm probably one of the few people who has noticed and publicly commented on this longstanding trend, and have incorporated this observation into my writing and speaking style.  While I know that I cannot single-handedly reverse this trend, I can do my part to correct things by avoiding sensationalistic language when possible.  As a result, I tend to use understatements in my writing, rather than overstatements.  I generally come across as a bit stoic*, which works for me, because when I do use high-impact words and phrases, they tend to have a bit more impact.  I wish more people did this.  We, as a society, need to expand our vocabulary.

*NOTE:  While I frequently speak using understated language, I will concede that I do overuse profanity when interacting face-to-face. 

Coldpocalypse Inbound

 A lot of the country is bracing for snow and/or freezing rain.  Not me.  I'm mentally preparing myself ready for bitter cold.  Over the course of the next week, it's supposed to get below zero every day except for one, and on one of those days, the high temp will be below zero.  It's supposed to get so cold that the news is warning about the possibility of exploding trees.  I will clarify that we're a little bit south of that $h!+, but still... once we hit this time of year, I have a hard time getting warm at all.  My hands and feet are virtually always cold.

Now that I've got the headline-grabbing sound bites out of the way, I should clarify that I really don't notice much of a difference between zero and -20.  Once the thermometer dips that low, it's all kind of the same... just cold.

I'll leave with a personal anecdote about the cold.  Back in the 90's I moved from the northern part of my state to the southern part.  There was a blizzard the weekend I was scheduled to move.  It was 50 below without the wind chill, and 90 below with it.  It was so cold that weekend that the antifreeze in one of my cars froze.  On top of that, we got a ton of snow.  Fortunately, I was able to leave the car behind for a week.  When I went back, it started right up, no damage.  The body sucked on that car, but that engine was unstoppable.

Farewell, Gilmour

I just put down my dog Gilmour. He was a frustrating, willful, fun, happy, energetic, smart dog, and I'm going to miss him tremendously.

I want to write more, but the words won't seem to come. 

My Experience with National General Insurance

 For those of you who don't know, I was in a gnarly car accident back in November.  The accident was 100% the other driver's fault.  After receiving the other driver's insurance information, I contacted their carrier and started the claim process.  I received a prompt response that they were taking full responsibility for the incident, and I went in hoping for a smooth experience.  Spoiler alert: The experience has not been pleasant.

Since I was injured in the collision, the other agent offered me some money for pain and suffering.  It wasn't a lot of money, but it was unexpected considering that my injuries did not require an immediate trip to the hospital, it was a pleasant surprise.

Once it was time to settle though, things took a turn for the worse.  A full week passed without hearing from National General Insurance regarding my vehicle.  I ended up filing with my carrier because of the radio silence.

I ended up seeking medical treatment a few days later, where I was diagnosed with a concussion and bruised ribs.  They told me they wouldn't pay until I signed a release.  The cost of the ER visit was about $1900, and the release said they'd pay up to $2000 for legitimate expenses.  If I'd signed the release, I'd have effectively capped out.

I went back and asked them to amend the release to $10k max, and give me a longer time frame to submit the expenses, in case additional medical issues popped up.  They agreed, but the release was worded in such a way that I'd have waived my claim to subrogation.  In case you're not aware, subrogation is the process that my insurance carrier will use to recover the cost of paying for my car.  In other words, the release said they'd pay my medical expenses, up to $10k, but I waived the right for my insurance company to recover their loss.  Nope.

So, I've had to go back to my carrier and submit my medical expenses to them, and I've had to contact the medical providers and ask them to submit the bills to my insurance company.  So much for a smooth experience.  On the good side, I've now experienced the benefit of carrying collision on a vehicle that's paid off.  My carrier is taking care of the problem, and they're not raising my rates because the accident was not my fault. 

There is no Line

 This is another post inspired by Sunny.  In a recent post, she said that she's dazed and confused (her words, not mine) over choices that people around her are making.  It's quite apparent that she sees poor outcomes in a few different situations, and she seems to be tying herself in knots over what to do.  She ends her post by observing "I think I might be worrying too much about other peoples problems and just making myself miserable in the process. But that's what you do when you care about someone, isn't it?" Well, yes and no.

I'm in a similar place with my family.  My ex lives with my older daughter, son-in-law and grandson, and there's a bit of drama in their world at the moment.  I'm not going to go into the specifics of the issue, but it is a real problem.  Unfortunately, nobody is tackling the issue head on.  Grandson is talking to wifey and me about it.  Ex is talking with my younger daughter about it.  Older daughter has no idea the problem exists.  Son-in-law caused the problem and grandson observed the problem.  Grandson came to wifey and me, and we said tell mom.  Instead he talked to ex.

This is going to turn into a bit of a shitstorm when everything comes out.  Am I concerned?  Yep.  Have people come to me for advice?  Yep.  Have they followed it?  Nope.  I see the problem.  I see there's gonna be a shitstorm.  Son-in-law is gonna be labeled a bad guy over it, but I kind of get where he's coming from.  It's just a bad scene where there is no good answer.

Yeah.  But unlike Sunny, I'm not going to spend a ton of time and energy worrying about or trying to control the situation, because at the end of the day... 1) I did not create the situation.  2) I am not involved in the situation.  3) I cannot predict, control or influence the behavior of anyone involved in the situation.  In other words, there is zero I can do.  If I were to try to insert myself into the situation, the most likely result is that I'd be the bad guy for butting in.

A lot of people would react to this by looking for that line where they should insert themselves into the situation vs. butting out.  They'll wonder where is the line?  The thing is, there's no cookie cutter answer.  It's the case here, and it's the case in most of life.  Over the years, I spent a lot of time and energy wondering this, and I finally discovered the answer.  There is no line.  It's only judgement and experience.

That same judgement and experience tells me that humans, by and large, tend to significantly overestimate the amount of influence they have over others.  We also tend to overestimate the extent to which our input is welcome.  As a result, I try to not provide input unless I'm asked.  If I'm compelled to give input without invitation, I have a general rule that I ask if the other person is interested in my take.  If they say yes, I will proceed.  However, any time I give advice -- even if explicitly asked -- I work with the understanding that most of the time, people are looking for someone to validate a conclusion they've already made.  This means that our advice and input is at best disregarded and at worst invokes anger, unless the advice matches what the other person already intends to do.

So, when it comes to interpersonal relationships, the older I get, the less frequently I give advice.  Instead, I try to serve as a sounding board.  I don't do this because I'm worried about crossing a line.  Like I said earlier, there is no line.  There's a fence, and we as humans are neighbors talking to one another over that fence.  Unless we're invited over, we need to stay on our side of the fence and support our neighbors.

I hope this wildly mixed bag of metaphors came out with some coherence.

Hard Pass!

I'm sure you've all heard that our illustrious leader has removed Venezuelan President Maduro from power.  This post is NOT designed to discuss the legal or ethical issues surrounding the removal itself.  No, today, I'm going to discuss the oil.  I'm sure you've heard that POTUS plans to, ummm, liberate the oil, and he's asked the oil industry to participate in the event.  When this story came out, the CEO of ExxonMobil said that the country's oil is "uninvestable."  Before I get into my commentary, I'd like to give you a little background.

To my understanding, Venezuela currently holds the world's largest proven oil reserves. Proven oil reserves are known quantities, using current economic conditions and current technology.  In other words, we know how much oil is there, and we know how much we'll profit by extracting it.

The thing is, Venezuela has a history of not playing nice with international oil conglomerates.  Their oil was state owned in the 70's.  The 80's and 90's brought economic hardship because oil prices crashed, and private companies were allowed to come invest.  In the late 90's and early 00's Venezuela changed their mind and re-nationalized their oil.  ExxonMobil's stake was expropriated in 2007.  Basically, Venezuela said to the oil companies "Hey dudes, we'll be generous and let you have minority stake in your companies, but you need to give us controlling interest."  Some companies, such as Chevron and BP agreed.  ExxonMobil and ConocoPhillips didn't agree, so the country took control and kicked them out.  I'm going to refrain from judging the merits of this state takeover of private industry.  That's beyond the scope of this little post.  What I am trying to do is demonstrate that ExxonMobil has history with Venezuela.

Now that the historic story is shared, let me recap the recent events:  Trump invaded Venezuela and deposed Maduro.  Trump then invited oil companies to step in and help "liberate" the oil.  ExxonMobil has politely declined.  This makes sense.  If I worked with Joe Blow in the past and Joe ripped me off, I'd be hard pressed to re-engage, regardless of the circumstances.

But what's Trump's reply?  I'm inclined to exclude ExxonMobil from this offer.  From my perspective, that's kind of like me saying I'm having a party at venue XYZ.  And when I hear that John Smith isn't interested in attending my party, I say that I'm inclined to make sure that John Smith isn't invited to my party.  Meanwhile, John's real reason for not joining the party is because he knows the venue sucks.  There are too few bathrooms, it's in a crappy are of town, and the acoustics suck.  In other words, ExxonMobil is totally justified in saying "Hard Pass!"

People Love Their Technology

I spent the last week in Tampa for work.  While it was a work trip, I did enjoy the deviation from my routine.  Since I live in the upper midwest, I'm sure you can understand how much I relished the warmth and sunshine of Florida.  I also attended my first professional hockey game, spent some quality time with a couple of my military buddies, and took advantage of the opportunity to eat fresh seafood.

For those of you who don't know, I work in the IT industry.  The vast majority of what I do can be done from my home, but occasionally I need to put my hands on the equipment.  Over the last year, we built enough of a list that it was cost-effective to fly me down there for the week.  While I was gallivanting across the countryside, I was a bit struck by how much people love their technology.  Let me share two stories to provide examples.

While I was on the plane, I saw a young woman effectively spend the entire flight engaging ChatGPT with her relationship issues.  I don't know the details, because I tried diligently to not be a snoop, so it's quite possible that she was darting back and forth between different apps, but it absolutely seemed like she was fully engaged with her phone the entire flight; and when curiosity got the better of me and I did look for those occasional, brief moments, she was definitely talking to ChatGPT about her boyfriend.  I found it noteworthy how deeply she was engaged with the technology, considering AI's well-known propensity for hallucinations.

While I was in Tampa, my rental car was a Toyota Corolla.  I've always thought of the Corolla as a budget-priced vehicle, designed to get you from Point A to Point B without the unnecessary bells and whistles.  Imagine my surprise when I discovered that the car had adaptive cruise control, complete with lane position assistance.  This is only the second time I've driven in a car that tries to keep you in your lane, and it was a bit of an adjustment.  The first time I engaged cruise control, I didn't realize that it was actively trying to keep me in the center of the lane.  I tend to stay a bit left of center when I drive, for better visibility.  The car didn't like that and actively resisted when I'd try to drift left more than it liked.  

The second time I drove the car, I realized what was going on, so I snapped to the opposite end of the spectrum and let the car do its thing.   For the most part, I served as a human monitor for the vehicle.  I negotiated turns and traffic signals, but the car generally did the rest.  The car didn't like that either; it randomly prompted me to slightly move the steering wheel so it knew I was paying attention.  I played with adaptive cruise a bit more, but eventually concluded that I enjoy driving far more than I trust the technology and went back to driving old school.

Since I work in IT, I get why society is enamored with technology.  I used to be a gadget geek.  I was a reasonably early adopter of the PC.  I jumped on the Internet when AOL was popular.  My love for and knowledge of tech has kept a roof over my head and food in my belly for almost three decades.  However, I think we've hit the point where we are abdicating our personal judgment.  As a result, I believe that we are indeed becoming collectively dumber, less curious, and less individual.  I can't help but wonder if that woman would kill the boyfriend if ChatGPT said it was the best course of action.  I also wonder if my grandchildren will be the last generation that really understands and appreciates the wonder of a road trip with no destination.