Monthly Archives: July 2015

What Annoys Jeff this Week?

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1. Bikers. Not the ones on motorcycles. The ones who put on brightly colored spandex and take their peddle bikes for a ride at 6:30 AM. On a narrow, winding country road. When the rest of us are trying to get to work and do something productive with our day. Yeah. Those guys are a real pain in the ass. Sure, technically they’re legally entitled to use the road, but really if your vehicle of choice can’t manage to make at least the posted speed limit I think your decision to do so is suspect at best. Someone driving their car uphill at six miles an hour would be considered a hazard to traffic, I don’t have any earthly idea why peddle pushers doing exactly that aren’t lumped into the same category.

2. The week. I can’t remember the last week that has left me so utterly tired as it draws towards its conclusion. Suddenly everything is busy. Quitting time sneaks up on me at work, catching me unaware – that almost never happens. The nights at home stream away like we were dealing with minutes instead of hours. Despite all the motion, there isn’t feel like there’s all that much to show for it. Maybe that’s the real source of frustration. I don’t mind being bone tired when I know what I’m getting for the trouble, but when there’s no apparent reason, well, that’s just obnoxious.

3. Presidential politics. Here it is, more than a year before the next president is elected and the two hardest charging candidates are an avowed socialist and Donald Trump. Do I even need to explain why this might be considered annoying in some circles? It’s also why I try not to pay much attention to what’s going on this early in primary season… But Sanders and Trump. Sweet lord, this can’t be real life can it?

1,001 misguided souls…

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From time to time WordPress tells me things. Last night for instance it told me that I’ve managed to gather 1,001 people who regularly get some kind of exposure to the blog. That number is pretty eavenly divided by people who follow me directly on WordPress and others who are friends on Facebook. Twitter doesn’t even break into triple digits. Still, 1,001 is, in my opinion, a surprisingly respectable number… especially considering there’s nothing here that could be considered a theme, consistency isn’t exactly my strong point, and the very best you can really expect to find here is the addled raving of a working schmuck who’s desperately trying to ignore the fact he’s careening through middle age to the beat of a drummer apparently only he can hear.

This blog has evolved from just a writing exercise to become my “batshit crazy release mechanism” and it’s an absolute pleasure to share it five times a week with all of you 1,001 poor misguided souls. I really do appreciate having each and every one of you along on the road to whatever it is this becomes – even if it’s only ever one lone voice of sanity crying out in a world gone increasingly mad.

Improved remains to be seen…

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Look on the shelves of any grocery store and you’ll see hundreds of boxes touting “new” formulas, updated ingredients, and improved performance. New can be a good thing. Creature of habit though I am, I would never let that stand in the way of any legitimate opportunity for progress.

Today was the first day with our new Uberboss. I’m willing to give the guy the benefit of the doubt. Even if he didn’t mean any of them, they guy was saying most of the right words. He may have just been observing the tried and true forms of the business, but even if that’s the case it’s something I can work with as long as I know that’s the schtick.

The part of me that’s a raging pessimist, of course, realizes new is not always synonymous with “good.” There’s the obvious example of New Coke. Chemical weapons were once the “new” thing on the battlefield. Titanic was a new ship right up to the point where it sank like a stone to the bottom of the Atlantic. There are plenty of examples of times when “new” translated directly into mayhem, chaos, and disaster.

There feels like there should be a requisite reference to The Who here somewhere… but for the moment, any similarities or differences are too hard to spot. It’s certainly new and that certainly means different, but whether it’s improved remains to be seen.

On the beauty of being offensive…

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If the media can be believed, we live in a country that could currently be best described as offended that we’re offended by the offensive offending that may or may not offend you, me, or the neighbor and if any one of those people are not offended, we’re unilaterally offended by their lack of offense.

It’s enough to make a poor blogger’s head hurt. It’s probably only a matter of time before the Court is asked to find that we Americans have a heretofore undiscovered and absolute right to not face any issue at any time that may hurt our chickenshit little feelings. That way we can prevent anyone from saying anything.

I can only hope that it doesn’t come to that.

I want to be offended by people. I want them to express ideas that are different than my own. I want them to challenge me – because that means I have to better understand my own positions and arguments. It means I have to work just that little bit harder to know my own mind. It means I don’t get a free pass when my poor little feelings aren’t validated.

While we’re at it, could we maybe “feel” a little less and “think” a little more – as in “I think this is important and here’s why” instead of “I feel that we should eat granola instead of eggs because chickens are people too.” All I’m asking for is a little intellectual rigor instead of running the country like some kind of damned new age encounter group.

As for me, I’ll continue to speak my mind. If anything I say offends you, good. That means I’m doing my part.

What Annoys Jeff this Week?

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1. Wasting my goddamned time. Sometimes things happen that are unavoidable. Life can’t always be expected to run like clockwork. I get it. That said, when standard procedure ends often as not in a week’s worth of work ending up in the trash bin, I’m not sure that’s really the best possible use of resources. Look, I get paid whether I split the atom or fling spit balls, but on average I’d rather spend my days doing have some semblance of value. I mean I’m going to keep taking your money either way, but it seems like everyone would be better off if there was something more to show for the time other than half finished powerpoint.

2. Websites with ads that automatically play music or video clips. Stop it. Just stop. I will immediately close the offending screen. You will never get my business because your marketing is obnoxious and distracting. Be subtle. Build a great product. I’ll happily buy your stuff then – maybe even pay a bit of a premium for a premium product. I don’t care how good a widget you make is, though, if you insist on assaulting my senses just to get me to look at it.

3. The Office of Personnel Management. I like to think if I were as ragingly incompetent at my job as whoever is responsible for network security at OPM is, I’d be on the street looking for a job right now. Seriously, though, losing 25 million (and at this rate probably more) individual social security numbers and other identifying information about employees, their friends, families, college roommates, childhood neighbors, and former employers is really an extraordinarily impressive accomplishment. I’m sure I appreciate the free “credit monitoring” and all, but if we could make some heads roll I’d at least feel a little better that someone, somewhere was being held accountable. I’d ask for the immediate initiation of hostilities of the nation or group responsible for the theft, but it already feels like that’s just a bridge too far for the asshats running the show in the District.

It ain’t Disney…

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I generally get to work about 20 minutes before my day technically starts. Partly it’s because I’m hopelessly committed to arriving everywhere precisely “on time” and partly it’s because I generally need ten minutes to mentally prepare for the long walk across the parking lot and getting the day started. Most days this adds up to ten or fifteen minutes of time just sitting in the truck watching the world around me.

Sure, technically I’m sitting in the parking lot watching people, but I’m not doing it in a creeper-stalky kind of way. I’m really just noticing people pass by and making observations – like who can’t park worth a tinker’s damn, who forgets something on the roof of their car three mornings a week, and who else is just sitting there trying to summon the courage to face the day.

The thing I notice most often, the thing that is so common as to be nearly universal – is that almost no one is smiling. No one has a spring in their step. Nearly everyone looks like their being led to the gallows. They’re plodding their way to the front door like they expect someone to shank their puppy once they get inside.

Clearly this place ain’t Disney World… and I can see plainly why they never bothered to do another “employee viewpoints” survey to see if that morale problem had turned around. There’s really not much need for a survey when the answer is written all over everyone’s face.

Zilch…

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Yeah, the world’s going to hell in a handbag, but that doesn’t mean I have to write about it every evening. Thats one of the perks of being a blog and not a news site. Even if it’ newsworthy, even if I have an opinion, I can dismiss the issue of the day without fear of blowback. That’s a degree of freedom that doesn’t suck.

Today is one of those days that presented me with a wealth of blog-able material, but I just cant muster enough interest in any of it to justify the 350 words. The challenge of living in interesting times is that now and then it all just feels so very uninteresting.

So there you have it. Not an excuse, but at least a passingly rational explanation for why I’m opting not to turn in my homework tonight.

Sometimes the give-a-shit indicator just doesn’t budge off zero.

Learning acceptance…

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Even with the afternoon and evening to go, I can feel Monday’s grinding maw approaching. One look at the list of things I was shooting to have finished by the time the curtain fell on the long weekend tells me there’s no path to get there from here. I hate that feeling. I also, just a little bit, hate that I care quite so much about it.

It wasn’t an exciting list, including such fun-filled activities as flushing the well filter, getting the mulch out of the front yard and back into the planting beds, wiping down baseboards, and giving the dog’s room a good scrub, and going on from there. Some of the things god crossed off. More of them will spill over onto next week’s already growing list.

It’s probably a character flaw, but I wish I could quiet down my head just a little and let more of the “small stuff” just be. I’m not wired like that. I thought briefly about trying to catch a movie this afternoon, before grudgingly admitting I wouldn’t get any joy from it as long as things were left undone or out of place on the homestead.

I do wonder sometimes if I might be a more sane person if I could somehow manage to learn acceptance – or at least come to an accommodation with whatever in my head urges me on to use every available hour to get one more thing off the list… Though with my own small mental quirks notwithstanding, I have to admit I’ve got this old house looking damned good. I wouldn’t eat off the floors or anything, but I’m pretty sure the casual observer would give the place passing marks. That’s something, right?

Now if it would just dry up enough outside that I could cut the grass and do some trimming we’d be all set.

What Annoys Jeff this Week?

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1. LED lights. Apparently the previous owner of my house had a stash of incandescent bulbs. I wish I’d have known that before we closed so I could have asked him to throw them in with the sale. Now those “leftover” bulbs are failing at the rate of about one a week and I’m trying to replace them with LED bulbs as much as possible. The projected energy savings is a nice perk, but I’m really a fan of the idea that it could be 10 years or more before I need to replace the bulb again. It should be an easy enough process; go to store, buy appropriate wattage replacement, install as needed. It should be, but it’s not. There’s apparently no such thing as a “60-watt bulb” anymore. Now you’ve got bizarrely small wattages, concerns about the right “color temperature,” lights that change color all together, bulbs with built in speakers, and remote controls. Great. That’s lovely, but honest to God all I want to do is go out and buy a basic light that will sit there and look like the old GE 60-watt incandescent that we’ve used since humanity got around to “capturing” electricity… and I’d like to not pay $14.97 for the privilege.

2. “Banning” the Dukes of Hazzard. Look gang, I don’t like the fact that some pansy executive decided to take a 40 year old televisions show out of rotation because the way a car was decorated might offend some viewer’s sensibilities. That being said, it was a business decision. No one “banned” the Duke boys. You can’t blame this one on POTUS, the government, or anything other than a TV network trying to avoid having people send them a raft full of letters and calling them damned dirty racists. Not a decision I’d have made if I were the TV Land Vice President for Commercial Programming, but you’ve got to stop running around saying something was “banned” when it wasn’t. It makes you sound like a moron.

3. Shark attacks. It may come as a surprise to many people, but sharks (for the most part) live in the ocean. They can often be found feeding in the same shallow areas along the surf line where people tend to congregate in the summer months. If you decide to jump in to the shark’s natural environment understand that you are assuming a risk wherein you are no longer the apex predator. The natural advantages we humans have on land don’t lend themselves to the water. Life is all about assuming (and trying to mitigate) risk in everything that you do. It’s a game of chance and percentages. Even in North Carolina the chance that you the individual swimmer are going to become the main course are awfully slim when you consider just how many people are in the water with you. I haven’t run the numbers, but I’d bet that the drive to get to the beach is far more likely to end in a fatality. Just something to think about as the media get themselves up in arms about sharks just doing what they do.

Allocation…

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When something is scarce, we tend to allocate it carefully. Gold, for instance, is a scarce resource in nature and therefore we value it accordingly. Of course you can buy gold at any of thousands of places online, at the corner jewelry store, or even go scrape it out of a river yourself if you’re so inclined. It’s out there for the taking as long as you’ve allocated the time or money for it.

Since I’ve gotten settled in to the new digs here at Casa de Jeff v2.0, time has been my most consistently scarce resource. I’ve gone from a 1000 square foot rental I was more or less happy to avoid doing maintenance on unless it was urgent, to a place pushing thrice as big where I want to keep every little thing in manufacturer-new condition. Let’s just say spot maintenance has grown to account for an increasingly large amount of whatever time is available. That’s not a complaint, really, since I’m the one in charge of making such decisions.

These last few weeks free time that’s left over has almost all been thrown towards reading – even at the expense of whatever writing I had hoped to get done this summer. I’m working my way through a series based around a dimension traveling World War 2 destroyer, a species of human-esque lemurs, their lizard enemies, oceans full of Very Bad Things, and a British colony that so far just begs you to hate them. It’s not my normal reading, but I’ve churned through the first 5 books of the series in unprecedentedly short order – one of the consequences of dumping every available moment of free time into the Kindle.

I swear it’s a better read than I just made it sound. If you’re at all into historical fiction or sci-fi I really highly recommend giving the Destroyermen series a look. After all, if I’m peddling someone else’s book on my site without getting any compensation at all, you can well imagine that I’ve been impressed with it from start to finish… Well not quite finish, more like the halfway point, but let’s not get hung up on semantics.

If I were a fancy big city psychologist, I might say that it has something to do with a deep-seated need for escapism, but since I’m not I’ll just go with it being a damned entertaining read.