In the area of temptation (and get your mind out of the gutter, there's many different types of temptation) there are three pure states:

• those blissfully ignorant of the fun and trouble they could get into
  
• those who are aware of such choices and can't help but stray down the path
  
• those who are aware of the choices, but who choose not to venture onto the wild side

Which one of these categories do you think you belong to?

Which one do you belong to for real?

I was doing some recreational surfing today and found a well-written essay on being a Hacker. Not a Cracker, but a Hacker. Not very thought provoking (as I tend to agree whole-heartedly with the content), but a nice summary of my feeling on the subject.

Travelling in Europe Dream

I'm travelling in a European spanish-speaking country and go to park my rental car in an open-air parking lot. There is a parking attendant who directs me to drive past the section for Daily Parkers and Monthly Parkers to a group of automobiles underneath a big blue and white sign that reads, "BASTARDS". I park there, get out and head for the subway system.

For some reason (I don't question this in the dream) busses are running through the subway system. I get aboard a dilapidated bus (circa 1955) and we get moving. We proceed through the tunnel system and emerge running parallel to a river. On the river are two men wearing tweed jackets and hats in a rowing scull. An announcement comes over the P.A. system in the bus informing us that Interpol is tracking two IRA terrorists travelling along the river beside our bus. The voice continues to tell us that the two men have plans to blow up the bus and that they will be getting on at the next stop. All the passengers are asked to remain on the bus so as not to alert them to the fact that Interpol is tracking them.

"Forget that noise," I say to myself, "I'm going to pretend that I had planned to get off at the next stop anyway." I climb out the back door of the bus and come face to face with the terrorists as they are walking to the front of the bus, preparing to get on. Then I woke up.

As part of a totally enjoyable day off, I'm watching The Price is Right. I remember watching the show many years ago when I was a youngster and words like "youngster" were still in use. My great-grandmother was a hardcore gamer and used to watch TPiR (The Price is Right) religiously. It was broadcast early in the day, usually before lunch, so you could watch it before the afternoon bingo games started. Grandma (as she was addressed by all of our family, regardless of their actual relation to her) used to babysit me before I was old enough to go to school and I vaguely remember seeing it then.

I didn't get a chance to regularly watch it again until I was in high school. It was during these formative teen years that I was reunited with my great-grandmother. She happened to live very close to my high school. This school was across town from where I lived, but right next to the swimming pool where I trained in the mornings. Rather than hanging out at the school cafeteria during lunch, I went to Grandma's house for a bowl of hot soup. She seemed to appreciate the company. When I arrived at about 11:30, most days I found the TV on and Johnny Olsen inviting people to "Come on Down!"

Just in case you have a job and are not able to watch daytime TV, I thought I'd bring you up to speed.

• Bob Barker is still hosting the show but he's looking old. He's got all his hair but he's getting a little senile. He called one of the conestants by a wrong name twice. He isn't as frisky with the pretty young girlie contestants as he used to be.
  
• I think the games are getting too easy. All six contestants won today.
  
• the contestants and the audience still go nuts when the announcer is describing the prize and it turns out to be A NEW CAR!
  
• they still use the Cliffhanger Game. I love that little yodel ditty. I can't count the number of times I went back for afternoon classes and had it running through my head.
  
• it's no longer a Mark Goodson, Bill Todson production. It's now a Mark Goodson Production. Did Bill and Mark have a fight?

Hey, I just saw a teaser for Oprah at 4 pm. Did I have anything else I was supposed to do today?

If you have to drive during the day, don't do it between 10 and 11 o'clock in the morning. That's when all the old folks and nervous nellies are on the road.

It's true. I'm a night owl.

As much as I've tried to fight it, I come alive and feel the most productive and alert after 4 pm. You wouldn't believe all the stuff I've accomplished in the last four hours.

This weekend's swim meet didn't happen, due to Jennifer the Coach's inability to get my entry in before the deadline. Poop.

I'm assured that I am IN for the March 23rd meet, though.

The Company website was ready and up by March 1st, but now it's even more ready.

Tickety boo, back to work. I learned a new thing today. What a pleasure.

My first day as an official semi-regular at The Treehouse. It's nice to be part of the gang. It was also swim practice day.

Last week Coach Jennifer talked me into signing up for a swim meet. The meet is this weekend and I am SO glad I haven't been thinking far enough ahead to get the jitters. I'm sure the time up to the meet will fly by, I'll quickly dispense of my four events and I'll be left to enjoy some camaraderie with my fellow old folks. I'm sure Coach Jennifer will be putting together a relay. I love relays. It's a chance to shine and have your hard effort tangibly benefit others. For some reason, it just suits my personality to be a relay team member and I always put in a good showing.

The Torpedo (one of the biggest, strongest, best-est swimmers on the team) is back after a serious car accident where he was badly hurt, including having his elbow shattered. He's a real tough guy and has been working hard to get back into form. I was swimming in a lane beside him and ended up doing a set of ten 50 metre swims next to him, leaving on the same interval. I noticed that he really doesn't like to finish behind anyone, even in practice. As I noticed this after the second fifty, I felt the competitive me saunter up to the controls and push my body to stay ahead of him, fifty after fifty. I'd like to say I let him beat me on the last five 50's, but truth be known, he's one strong bull. I wasn't alone in noticing this - one of the Two Broads remarked after the set, "Jesus, he's still kicking our asses. I wish someone would crush my elbow."

One of the places where I still have The Torpedo beat is in the turn. I don't often brag, but I have to tell you, I have beautiful, efficient turns. I can usually gain about two metres on my turn, which is substantial in a 50 metre race. The meet on Saturday is a short course meet, meaning that it is swum in a 25 metre pool. This gives me one turn in my 50 metre races and three turns in the 100 metre race. I'll let you know how things go.

The fact that I am here to write these words is a credit to the engineers that design the tread pattern on tires.

Yesterday, I did a 300 km drive from Fernie back to Calgary. During the course of the day, weather conditions took a bad turn. In the morning and early afternoon, a clear, sunny day heated the bare pavement of the highway above that of the fields of powdery snow. Later in the afternoon, winds blowing the snow from the fields across the highway picked up, followed by a quick and sharp drop in temperature that froze the melting snow on the road into a thick, smooth sheet of ice. This caused a fifty kilometre stretch of road halfway through my trip (the southernmost part of Highway 22) to become one of the most treacherous stretches that I have ever driven. The road was totally covered with ice, and there was terrible crosswind and blowing snow that more often than not obscured every hint of where the road was. On a highway that is normally travelled at 100 km/hour, it felt dangerous to be going over 40.

In spite of these terrible conditions, there were still people that passed me at 20 - 30 km/hour faster than I was going. We passed one accident where a car and truck (apparently approaching each other) had collided and spun off into the ditch. We were about the twelfth or thirteenth vehicle on the scene, so I didn't think it was necessary to stop and lend assistance. I couldn't tell who was at fault, but I could see that the car (having less mass) had taken the brunt of the punishment. As it was minus 20 celcius and there was a strong wind blowing through the smashed glass of their vehicles, I couldn't help but pity both drivers as they waited for the tow trucks to arrive.

It also occurred to me that, travelling on a highway in frightening road conditions like those, no matter how cautious a driver you are, you are only as safe as the other morons on the road - in front, behind and oncoming. What a sobering thought.

I'm enjoying a relaxing weekend at Fernie, BC. We are accompanying some teammates of Banana's to their condo, where we've been skiing, hot tubbing and enjoying some lazy times. It's amazing how quickly a hot tub can drain you of energy.

We're heading home this afternoon and we plan to stop at the town of Frank, where there was a massive rockslide that buried the town 80 years ago. Should be fun.

I think life is about to get really busy again.

I drove past an advertisement today for Denim Day, an event coming up to recognize support for research for breast cancer. The name "Denim Day" brought back a flood of memories from my first year of university and another group participation event - Gay Jeans Day.

Going to a university campus from a medium-size high school in a very conservative city is a big leap. I felt awkward, out of place and very insecure about how I looked and acted. My swim team buddies (my touchstone of normality and source of social standards) were even more redneck-ish than the average redneck Edmontonian. One day at lunch, one of my associates mentioned that he saw an announcement put out by the Gay and Lesbians On Campus group (or GALOC) that stated that tomorrow was "Gay Jeans Day." To show support for alternative lifestyles (or your pride in being gay), they were encouraging everyone to wear jeans to school.

This struck me as odd. Normally, everyone wore jeans to school.

I thought to myself, "Tomorrow, If I dressed as I normally do, in jeans, would my buddies assume I was making a statement about my own sexual orientation? Would others that unwittingly wore jeans be seen as showing their support for the homosexual lifestyle? What if I forgot and wore jeans by accident? Would there be big signs posted all over campus thanking all of the blue-jean-wearers for their open homosexuality?" I felt that GALOC was being very underhanded in trying to rally support for their cause.

I also felt bullied by my friends. Was my orientation any of their business? By their implied social pressures, they were preventing me from dressing the way I was most comfortable dressing.

In the end, I decided not to wear jeans to avoid the teasing my swim buddies would undoubtedly bestow on me, for that day and for days to come. Of course, if there had been a Gay Jeans Day, it was immensely underpublisized - I saw nothing making note of it on the supposed day of the event. Looking back on the situation, I realize that I allowed social pressure to force me to do two things that I didn't want to do: change the way I dress and take a stand against homosexuality. I wish that I had been more self-confident and dressed in jeans that day.

As I watch my daughters interact with their friends, I see them both striving to be accepted by their peers. How do I teach them to have faith in themselves and not to act as the group wants them to behave? Banana has a friend in the other Grade Four class named "Addi" who excels at marching to the beat of her own drummer. I hope to have the two of them spend more time together this summer, and maybe she can learn to be more trusting in herself and I can learn (from Addi's parents) how to encourage it more.

Peer pressure is a terrible thing.

This evening, I'm feeling old.

The day was excellent, with many positive happenings. I won the heart of a potential client and found out things are cookin' at the Treehouse, a present (and potentially big) client. I got a web billboard in place for Geek and Co.. I was treated to lunch with my dad. I had a good, hard swim practice. For some reason, when I got out of the water, a great cloak of responsibility and age came out with me. I'm not the playful sprite that I once was.

... on a full moon, nonetheless.

I think I've done it. As the fruition of a pile of hard work, countless errands and thanks to many helpful people, Geek and Company lives.

You may notice that nuther.com will be left to fend for itself whilst I add some juicy content to geekandco.com.

It's snowing and I'm not skiing ... yet. Heh heh heh, the low-attendance weekdays are coming.

As a teen, I used to think things like this all the time.

I'm up late because I spent the evening at a bingo hall. Not playing bingo, but working at the hall. Part of the funding for our community centre comes from sending volunteers (like myself) to work at various scheduled bingos throughout the year. The money goes towards paying staff at the community centre, subsidizing registration fees, buying sports equipment, upkeep of the hall and all the other little things that are part of the community centre and association.

The working conditions for my seven-and-a-half hour shift at the Golden Wings weren't too bad except for one thing - the smoke. The company and places that I frequent are for the most part smoke-free. This is definitely NOT the case at the bingo halls. I watched two women go through two whole packs of cigarettes in less than three hours. Multiply that by the 350 to 400 people in the hall, and then take out any hope of fresh air - they recirculate the air through six woefully inadequate ceiling-mounted filters. I emerged from my shift with irritated eyes, a terrible taste in my mouth, a bad headache and (I'm guessing) clothes, hair and skin that stunk.

I have good memories of bingo games. My great-grandmother used to be a five-day-a-week player. As a youth, I would accompany her once every two or three months to her afternoon game. I remember people smoking, but I don't remember it being as terrible as it was tonight. Is the severity of my reaction a result of non-exposure to smoke? As a child, my father was a pack-a-day smoker.

Calgary is becoming more and more smoke-free. I was musing with a coworker tonight that perhaps they do a poor job of filtering/circulating the air on purpose. Maybe the atmosphere (literally) is a draw for smokers that want to be:
- in a social setting that doesn't frown on their habit
- in a place that is convienient to smoke (ashtrays, consession selling smokes, sitting still doing a mind-numbing task)
- also in an enriched second-hand smoke environment

As much as I think bingo is a good social event (much like playing cards or scrabble or any other in-a-group, take-a-turn game), and a group gaming atmosphere that promotes community cohesion in a simple task-oriented event, I don't think I could enjoy sitting and visiting in such conditions.

Bleah.

As my "To Do" list grows, I am realizing that it needs to be divided into "Want To Do" and "Should Do" lists.

My first day of real unemployment was so busy, I didn't have much time to think about anything but my "To Do" list. Lots of home-fix-up stuff. That's a good thing.

There was an added component to my existence today.

As everyone does every day, I had a portion of my day that was eaten up doing things that turned out to be fruitless. The time that I spent spinning my wheels felt as though I was wasting my own time, as though I were losing money that I should be earning. It was very strange. Even chit-chatting with people, waiting in line, I felt like a meter was running somewhere. Life can't be like that - I HAVE to get over that feeling. If I don't, I'll go nuts.

I had business cards printed.
I've got letterhead and envelopes.
I've cleaned up the office and made room for records and books.
I bought a phone.
I had a second line installed.
I've recorded a voicemail message.
I've incorporated.
I've got an accountant to help me set up the books and to help me file taxes.
I've opened a bank account.
I'm gathering content for the web site.
I'm fine tuning a business and marketing plan.
I'm purchasing a Yellow Pages ad.

Geek and Company will be unvieled on March 1st.

I think I'll be ready.

Just in case you're wondering, my "To Do" list is filling up quickly. What happened to all the free time I was supposed to have in February?

I've added a few more Mexico trip photos to the album.

Third day back and I'm cold. Really cold. I had adapted a little too well to the tropic climes. What's an unemployed fella to do?

I have a theory about why my skin is peeling. The coldness of my body is causing it to shrink and my outer layer of skin isn't keeping up.

Hello broadband internet connection. Daddy's home.

Hey, did something happen at the Olympics pairs figureskating event while I was laying on a chaise lounge?

OK, I managed to get another Mexico diary entry up, but it was painful. The connection at our new accommodation really, really sucks. You'll have to wait to see the photos.

Four more days ... then it's back home, then eventually to work. I've been able to forget about earning a living. It's been nice. I want to give it a little bit of thought before I arrive back in Calgary. We gave ourselves three decompression days which I'm sure that we'll need. I do feel quite relaxed and (apart from the occasional rant) I have let go of the old place. Here's just a bit more catharsis.

Things I Learned At BigCo

My time spent at my previous American company was very educational. I thought I'd share some of these tidbits of wisdom, as the federal government is only one place that is safe from being bought by an American conglomerate.

Quiet is Not Good - You must draw attention to yourself, even if you are doing mediocre things. Constantly be in the face of the person you work for, asking for help, demanding justice, backstabbing coworkers.

Estimate High - when calculating money/effort/time required for a project, always double the amount and move to the next higher unit. Thus, for a project you *think* will take two days, you request four weeks.

Workers are Commodities - no matter how high paid you are, how much company knowledge you possess, how friendly you are, who you kiss up to - when there is a lull in your workload, you will be disposed of.

Get the Best - don't be swayed by company standards - think up a lame justification and order what you need. The standards are arbitrarily chosen, anyways. Besides, they'll change every eighteen months. Guaranteed.

I am still in Mexico, but I´ve managed to uplaod a few photos and some commentary. Go freshen up that cup of java and then dig in.

This is still better than working, but feels a lot like vacation and nothing like unemployment.

But ... my feet are tanning nicely, which I am sure none of my fellow Calgarians can claim. Ho hum, one more week of tropical warmth left. Chris, you´re really missing out. You should get down here.

Mexico has been very good for me so far. I have all but forgotten about equipment disposal, nonexistent bosses and shovelling snow. I hope the weather has been kind to those I´ve left behind.

We have a few minutes before the locale bus leaves from Playa del Carmen so I ditched the family ahd found another Internet Cafe with English-friendly keyboards and better connection speed.

Oops, gotta go.

Wondering where I have been? I am in Playa del Carmen, Mexico, a long, long way from a regular internet connection. I have been at the beach relaxing. I will post pictures when I figure out how to do it from this Casa de Internet. If I cannot swing it, look for a picture extravaganza on February 16th, when I am back.