I came in to work today to find that due to a breakfast meeting, several trays of fruit and baking had been left as surplus. It put everyone in the office in a good mood.

Dried papaya - yum!

Stayed up late tonight to watch the last episode of The Amazing Race. For the first time since, oh, the original late-60's Star Trek, I watched a series from start to finish and found it terribly entertaining. The characters were good, but the premise was even better. Race against teams where plotting against each other was shown time after time to NOT WORK. Paying close attention to details, reading instructions carefully and using good traveller sense was the way to win. Watching the show also gave the viewer a whirlwind tour of the famous sights of Brazil, South Africa, Bangkok, Hong Kong, Australia and New Zealand.

Some of these real-time, real-people "competition" shows focus on building alliances and rely on the other contestants deciding who is going to be eliminated. On The Amazing Race, it was all about getting to the finish line first. One incident even accentuated the need for teams to be respectful of each other. One of the more ruthless teams had lost a piece of crucial information and other teams had a copy of the required info. Neither of the two remaining teams would share their info with the first team. Also, the more ruthless team made an attempt to deliberately sabotage another team. The attempt ended up backfiring and cost the perpetrators victory in that segment of the race.

After watching that show, Jenn and I tuned into some late-night trailer trash TV called Elimidate. The premise of this show was that one guy (in this episode it was a guy) took four potential suitors on a date, asking three of them to leave, one by one, on the course of the date. My gosh, what has society lowered itself to? Are people really THIS desperate for a date? I was appalled at more than a few things.

• the chauvinistic manner of the guy (who was obviously reveling in the attention of the four women)
  
• the cruelty of the guy to the women, fawning over each of them, in turn, ignoring the others while he nuzzled with the particular chosen one of the moment
  
• the degrading, embarrassing questions that he put to each of them about their past sexual encounters and preferences
  
• the fact that the women were willing to put up with the creep
  
• what the women would do or say to remain part of the "date"

One of the activities in determining who would be ousted from the little menage-a-cinq was the guy asking each of them in his best macho-dude-swagger, "What would you do, how far would you go to finish this date with me?"

I was waiting for one of them to say, "I'd put up with being seen with you in public and make myself look like a lonely, desperate trouser leech," but it never happened.

I guess I'm just not open-minded enough to watch post-midnight TV.

You go, girl.

The minor demographic of the great unwashed that makes heavy use of vulgarity are a constant source of amusement for me. I'm not sure if this is a recent thing, but the advective (and often pronoun) of choice has shifted from the relatively tame "damn" to the abrasive and hard-consanant-ending "f^ck" (I've altered the word not out of modesty, but out of the desire to keep my search engine hits to a minimum). Certainly, they can't be aware that they're regularly using it in casual conversation. I long for the days (if they ever existed) where people were careful with the language they brandished.

Case in point: I was striding through the +15s today as I passed a teanage grunge-goth couple, ambling through the overhead walkways of our fair city. I am about three meters ahead of them when she says to he: "... an' I was over at her f^cking house, and I left my f^cking boots there. That was last week, an' she won't gimme my f^cking boots back."

Still striding along, I turned to look at them and said, "You have special boots for f^cking?? Cool."

She gave me the quizzical, raised-eyebrow Elvis snarl, then about two seconds later, he guffawed. I live for moments like that. Do you think I reached either of them?

See if you can bumfuzzle someone today. I just did.

Hmmph.

I've received three of these "Get To Know Each Other" surveys via e-mail. I'll fill this one out if you promise not to send me any more.

1. LIVING ARRANGEMENT?
A 3 bedroom bungalow, same as I grew up in. Shared with my wife, Jenn, two daughters, Banana and McMonkey, Devon the dog and a never-ending parade of quickly-killed fish.

2. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?
Dot Bomb, by J. David Kuo

3. WHAT'S ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?
Cookie crumbs.

4. FAVORITE BOARD GAME?
Backgammon. An oldie but a goodie.

5. FAVORITE MAGAZINE?
Print Magazine. I'm drawn to the visuals.

6. FAVORITE SMELLS?
Due to my anosmia, I don't have any.

7. FAVORITE SOUNDS?
The happy, tuneless songs of young children who are content and unaware that society disapproves of people being joyful without just cause.

8. WORST FEELING IN THE WORLD?
Waking up after a heavy sleep and realizing you are late for something.

9. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE UP IN THE MORNING?
Been there, asked that.

10. FAVOURITE COLOR?
Used to be yellow, but I'm more a bluish person now. Some days, it's brown.

11. HOW MANY RINGS BEFORE YOU ANSWER THE PHONE?
Must I?

12. FUTURE CHILD'S NAME?
All done procreating. It's enough work keeping track of the ones I've got already. I may get another dog someday and name it Hoover.

13. WHAT IS MOST IMPORTANT IN LIFE?
Reduce suffering. (Wow. Can't believe I boiled it down to two words, but it works.)

14. FAVOURITE FOODS?
Chocolate chip cookies, caesar salad, cajin-grilled chicken breast, oriental-style fried rice, dry Chilean red wine.

15. CHOCOLATE OR VANILLA?
Vanilla.

16. DO YOU LIKE TO DRIVE FAST?
Nope. I only enjoy the speed of human- or gravity-powered locomotion.

17. DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL?
Hey! That's my WIFE you're taking about!

18. STORMS - COOL OR SCARY?
Way cool.

19. WHAT TYPE WAS YOUR FIRST CAR?
A 1972 Toyota Celica, bless it's now-rusted-out soul. It looked just like this one.

20. IF YOU COULD MEET ONE PERSON DEAD OR ALIVE WHO WOULD IT BE?
Abraham Lincoln. I'd like his perspective on the changes that have taken place in 150 years.

21. FAVOURITE ALCOHOLIC DRINK?
Coffee and white coconut rum.

22. FAVORITE NON-ALCOHOLIC DRINK?
Water.

23. DO YOU EAT THE STEMS OF BROCCOLI?
All the time.

24. IF YOU COULD HAVE ANY JOB YOU WANTED WHAT WOULD IT BE?
Shepherd.

25. IF YOU COULD DYE YOUR HAIR ANY COLOR WHAT WOULD IT BE?
Mallard Duck Green.

26. EVER BEEN IN LOVE?
Oh yes. And then some.

27. IS THE GLASS HALF EMPTY OR HALF FULL?
Half full - and the rest is potential.

28. FAVORITE MOVIES?
Joe vs. The Volcano. The Sixth Sense. The Maltise Falcon. Star Wars. A Christmas Carol (the one with Alastair Sim). maybe Spiderman - I'll tell you tomorrow.

29. DO YOU TYPE WITH YOUR FINGERS ON THE RIGHT KEYS?
That's where they start, then they go all over the place. Mrs. Danyluk (my Grade 10 typing teacher) would be so proud.

30. WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED?
Christmas wrapping paper, dust bunnies and the skeltons that wouldn't fit in the closet.

31 WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE NUMBER?
42.

32. FAVORITE SPORT TO WATCH?
Sports are for doing, not watching.

Go Blake! Go Paige!

If you know what I'm talking about, you watch too much TV.

What I expect archeologists would say if they were to find my office, perfectly intact, a thousand years from now:

"I wonder what all these cables were supposed to attach to."

Work at the treehouse is busy, busy. Even though this job is everyone's primary source of income *and* we've all put in some of our own money to make this thing run, something is different from our eyewire days. I (for one) am more relaxed about the outcome.

For example, I set aside my nose-to-the-grindstone, gonna-get-fired-any-moment paranoia last week long enough to take care of some personal business and as a result, wasn't in the office for the promised 32 hours. Normally, this would cause waves of forboding, expecting at any minute to see any one of my colleagues walk up to me and say "Sean, we see you're not pulling your weight. Get the hell out of here." Just as some of these feeling would start to well up in me, a little voice would remind me of the many, many hours of volunteer time I had put in over the past few months and most certainly will be putting in over the next month or two. Suddenly, the guilt just rolled off me like rainwater from a freshly waxed car.

Thank goodness for rational thought.

In past entries I've made reference to The Treehouse. Although I do have a very nice treehouse that I built for the kids and myself in the backyard, that's not the one I'm referring to.

When Brad Z., former owner and CEO of EyeWire, resigned from his position as CEO, he was financially independent (that means rich). He didn't have to work again for the rest of his life, as long as he didn't hit the VLTs too often. I didn't hear much from him for some time afterwards. I assume he was taking a well-deserved break after piloting the EyeWire steamship.

Late last year, I became aware that he had rented 3000 square feet of office space and set up shop about a block and a half from the EyeWire building. He most likely was underfoot at home and his wife had urged him to get out of the house. To him that meant get an office and find some businesses to dabble in. The next thing you know, he and a bunch of his well-to-do buddies were holed up in one corner of a high rise in southwest Calgary, trying their hand at several ventures and projects, much like a grownup version of a clubhouse. But a clubhouse with a view (a magnificent view, I might add).

A Treehouse, you might say.

My initial post-eyewire contact was to assist him with network cleanup (the last guy hadn't done a great job of keeping his clients satisfied). This just sort of picked up since then. I now support all of his pet companies' technical support needs.

And I couldn't be happier.

I've had to put Geek and Company on the back burner, but I'm OK with that. I feel that Geek and Co. will only get better with age. I will relight the fire under it as soon as I'm done here (three to five years out, I'm guessing).

I often find myself slipping into the use of chauvinistic humor. I know this isn't a cool thing to do for a new age guy in these politically correct times, but I can't help myself.

Get me a beer while you're in the kitchen, Edith.

Har har har!

After producing a very respectable result of 2:08.03 for 21 kilometres in Vancouver, Jenn is back.

Thank goodness. I couldn't find the instructions for the dishwasher and we were almost out of clean plates.

Jenn's off to do her first half-marathon ever. She's been training hard, becoming fit and making her spouse immensely proud and envious. She is tricked out with the latest in techno gear, including MP3 player, heart rate monitor and chronometer/speedometer. I bet you thought *I* was bad for gadgets. Go get 'em, kiddo.

The race is in Vancouver - she boarded the plane a few hours ago and is probably sprawled across the queen-size hotel bed as I type this. She's trusted me to keep the kids clean and healthy for three whole days. As long as toaster still works and the case of Eggos doesn't thaw out, we'll be fine.

I just finished a favorite activity of mine - carrying my sleeping, angelic, rapidly growing daughters from my bed into their own beds. I'm sitting on our sofa, making a blog entry using my laptop and our new wireless home network, all the while enjoying Chopin's Nocturnes.

Contentment is wealth.

I wonder if there's any chocolate chip cookies in the house?

This Friday, I'm definitely going to be doing my part.

Let's see some supporters out there!

I have to read legal mumbo-jumbo today. As The Treehouse prepares to get going, we (the employees) have decided to invest in it ourselves rather than go to outside investors. Investing means legal documents. We've got to make sure that everything is spelled out.

I'm not at all nervous about handing over a big chunk of cash to our company. I've invested in stupider things before. Can you say, 'Timeshare'?

I've spent the past week watching more and more people (and some of the least likely ones) jump on the hi-tech bandwagon. As I deal with more and more hardware, wires, cameras, video presentations, networks and all the wide-eyed amazement from the great unwashed that goes along with it, I am inclined to be less showy with technology. Instead of having gadgets, wires and couplers strewn across my desk and hanging around my neck like a Hawaiian tourist, I want to have things undercover. I've decided that I want to take my technological advantages underground. Behind the scenes. I'm not ready to abandon them, but I want them to be hidden behind the walls.

Wireless technology is one way to do this. Lighter, smaller gadgets are another. Multifunction devices are a third way. I'm going to do what I can to reduce my daily-use wires and gadgets as much as possible.

The tide of in-laws has receded and I am no worse for the wear. I was up late on Friday night (as expected) putting the finishing touches on Irva's presentation. The gathering took place without any altercations, fisticuffs, bruised egos or hurt feelings. There was a bit of silliness (bringing tables and tablecloths to a well-prepared banquet facility wasn't necessary) but all in all, it was a success. Pats on the back and high-fives are in order for all that helped out.

The birthday girl was pleased as punch, too, which was the most important part.

I am exporting the video clips to Quicktime movies for your enjoyment. They should be ready soon and up in the images section later.

As I putter away at building a video presentation and the wee hours turn my mind to mush, I remind you that if you are thinking of using your computer for video or still presentations, do yourself a favor and get a Mac. They are greatly superior to a PC for this sort of thing.

I'm at a client site today upgrading a laptop and installing a router. The office is in the Grain Exchange Building, a 90 year old sandstone building in the center of downtown Calgary. There has had very little done in the way of renovations in the last 50 years. The ceilings are 12 feet tall; the heating is via steam radiators; the windows are all original. The atmosphere of the office is old-fashioned and strangely comforting. The client hasn't done too much to fix it up - a coat of paint, some 1940's vintage furniture, some 1940's vintage posters and continental maps on the wall. All in all a very pleasing effect.

If I had to have an office outside of my home, this is a place that I could easily come to every day. What a pleasant time I'm having.

I am about to enter ... the In-Law Zone. If I'm not back in three days, come and get me.

Busy, busy, busy. And to think that in January, I was worried that I'd be an unemployed bum that would spend the daylight hours making love to the sofa.

Work as sought me out, wrapped it's loving arms around me and has begun to squeeze. I've taken on three new clients this week and had to turn down a 6 week contract. What a tremendous boost for my ego.

The weekend was eventful, and filled with events, too. I took Banana and McMonkey with me (on their best behavior) to Lethbridge for the Provincial Masters Swim Championships. I left Jenn to frantically tidy and clean the house (in preparation for her mom's big do) and prepare for the onslaught of relatives. After all, they are her relatives. Har har.

Upon our return home, I sat the kids down, pointed out how clean and orderly the house was and reminded them that we only had three days to return it to it's original state. Banana went straight to work putting cookie crumbs under the sofa cushions.

At the meet I made my expected times and even surprised myself by breaking 30 seconds for a 50m freestyle. Who knows, I may go sub-27 again someday. The Two Broads and the Torpedo were there and added to the entertainment. We were all in our rooms and asleep by 11:15 on Saturday night. Jeez, we really are a old folks swim team.

We saw a 61-year-old break the world record for 50 backstroke, shattering the existing record of 33:71 with a :32.67. I've since learned the strategy for Masters swimming - outlive your competition. If I am still on the team when I'm in my nineties, that club record for the 200m fly is mine.

If you've ever seen an Apple Newton and thought it was a good idea, have a look at what happens when an ex-Titanium Powerbook designer has a go at making a portable PC.

• 4 inch colour touch screen
  
• 256 megs of RAM
  
• 10 giga byte hard drive
  
• USB, Firewire and infared ports
  
• wireless Ethernet (802.11b standard)
  
• street price of $1500 Canadian.

Wow.

They're supposed to be out in the second half of this year. Hubba hubba - I'm gonna junk my laptop.

I stil can't believe that people (including me) buy bottled water for two bucks or more per half litre.

tiny fingers is on the move. My mom's website is going to a new home that will support her online order submission form. Still a few CGI things to work out, but we're getting there.

My next swim meet is in two days and over the past two weeks my training has totally gone to hell.

I am so dead.

It seems that I am breaking as much as I am fixing today. Crappity crap.

There are days when being a dad fully drains the energy out of me. Some days I stare at what is before me with the eyes of a hopeless man.

I come home in the afternoon and step over a pile of boots, coats, backpacks that completely disguises the fact that the back landing has floor tiles. I hold the knowledge that no matter how few Shreddies or Honeycomb clumps are poured into the breakfast bowl and drowned in milk, there will always be several that remain behind to dissolve slowly in the bowl. I constantly pity the two lonely, wet socks that have made it to within feet of the laundry hamper. I see the plates, cracker crumbs and peanut butter jar with the knife still sticking out that is the carnage of a hastily-devoured after-school snack. I walk through the house turning off light switches, pausing only to marvel as I find one that has NOT been toggled on.

And yet, there is hope. Tonight, I went into McMonk's room, I saw a pile of CD-ROMs (that I had noted while feeding her fish earlier that day) were mostly put back into a protective travelling CD case. "She's getting it," I thought to myself. Some of this stuff is soaking in. I then thought back to a few disconnected incidents over the past few days. I remembered a day when she spontaneously complimented Jenn on dinner. Another time when she came to the door to see a friend off and gave the girl a hug and sounded genuine when she thanked her for coming to play. Yet another time when she called me in to see that she'd tidied everything off of her floor, even inviting me to look under her bed.

Putting all this together, I realize that this isn't an uphill battle. We're on the flats - it just took a lot of gentle but persistent pushing to get things rolling in the right direction.

I was working away happily in Photoshop taking some fold marks out of a scanned photo that will be part of the big show. When I tried to save my image, up pops this dialog box.

   

 How 'bout that for being obtuse? Clicking on the "OK" button does nothing, either. Time for a system rebuild, methinks.