Card Sharks

So, we played the card game "3 to 13" last night. And I have a bone to pick with my Mom. Apparently, unbeknownst to me, when I was younger, my Mom would help us kids by not going out when she could, allowing us a couple more turns to reduce the points in our hand. In August when the kids and I were back home in Columbus, my daughter noticed this. Yes, she is evidently much smarter than me.

Anyway, last night, it was just Kira and I playing at first, and after a while, I discovered that she was being "nice" to me by not going out when she could, JUST LIKE MOM DID when we were there. ARGH!! I told her when we were playing for real she had to be cut-throat! Heartless! Ruthless!! She replied, "I'm ruthless like a puppy!"

Later, Jordan was playing too, and at one point, I picked up a card, and laid down a wild card for Kira and went out.. so obviously I could have gone out earlier. She didn't take the wild card and still went out. So she could have gone out earlier, too! So I called her on it, and she called me on it, and I explained that I'm the Dad and I'm supposed to, but not her. Meanwhile, Jordan is playing his last hand, looks up and says, "Wait-a-minute.. you're BOTH being nice to me??"

Man, we are no good at cards.. :)

What's in a name?

Giving a name to something is a task not to be taken lightly, lest you (or the person) regret it for the rest of your life.  Names can have tradition, special meanings, or just sound good.

I learned recently that my friend's daughter's name, Lorien, comes from Lothlórien, the forest realm of the Elves in J.R.R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings. Being a fan of Lord of the Rings myself, I thought this was incredibly cool, and I was more than a little jealous that I didn't think to do the same for my kids. (However, my online alias is Radagast, a wizard from LoTR, and I once played a Fennec fox whose name was Nimrais, meaning "White Ears" in Tolkien's Elvish language, so I do get to claim some Tolkien geekiness.)

In a recent online comic strip, Questional Content, a mother yells at her son using his full name, as mothers are wont to do, "Martin Tiberius Reed!" His friends are stunned and ask her in reverent tones, "Is his middle name really Tiberius?", referring of course to Captain James Tiberius Kirk, of Star Trek fame. Hilariously, his mom admits, "It WOULD be, if his father weren't such a stick in the mud!"

I also know that MY middle name comes from my Dad's first name, and my Dad's middle name comes from his Dad's first name. So technically, my son's middle name should be "Timothy", if tradition were followed. I'm a little disappointed that that custom ended, though I am glad my son wasn't stuck with "Timothy" as a middle name.  (Sorry, Mom, my name sucks. :)

So where did my kids' names come from? It would be boring to say that my wife and I simply created lists of names we liked, and picked which ones sounded good together, but sadly, that was pretty much the case. My one counter-example was a complete failure. I owe my job at Intel to a great degree to the man who taught me mask design, Wolf Witt. "Schmidt" being a proper German name, I loved the sound of "Wolfgang Schmidt" and of course having a kid named "Wolf" would be awesome. Unfortunately, my wife vetoed that one almost as it passed my lips. If only she weren't such a stick in the mud!

However, also being a fan of Star Trek, I can at least make some good links to those characters and pretend they were intentional. So these are my fictional reasons my kids are named as they are.

My son, Alex, is named after Alexander Rozhenko, son of Worf:

My son, Jordan, is named after Geordi LaForge, chief engineer of the Enterprise:

My daughter, Kira, is named after Kira Nerys, from Deep Space Nine.  (There is actually some truth to that, though I think I failed to mention this to my wife.)  In addition, my daughter's initials are KES, like Kes from Voyager.

Any idea who YOU were named after?

My Grandpa, My Hero

To My Grandpa

On His 95th Birthday



Me and My Grandpa
(Click to enlarge)



My grandfather, Paul Joseph Wesseler, is my hero. I presume this is probably a relatively common occurrence for grandsons, but is somewhat surprising for me, because I've spent so little time with my grandfather. Until I was 13 years old, I lived a 10 hour drive away from Cincinnati, so only got to spend two or three vacation weeks a year with my grandparents. From age 13 to 25, I lived only one and a half hours away, but oddly this ended up being worse in terms of time with my grandfather. Despite visiting more often, it was always a quick weekend trip, usually when there were parties, so there was very little quality time to be spent together. And for the last 15 years, living on the other side of the country, I've seen my grandfather only a few times. This makes me very sad, but in spite of this lack of time, my grandfather has been one of the biggest influences in my life. My grandfather has accomplished so many things and done so much good for so many people, he is who I want to be.



Grandpa and Grandma with Carol (my Mom) and Gene
(Click to enlarge)

My grandfather was born September 30, 1915, in Pisgah, Ohio, northeast of Cincinnati. He spent his first 21 years working on his family's farm. In 1937, he began working as a machinist for Lunkenheimer, a manufacturer of a wide array of bronze and iron valves, and would continue working for the company for 35 years. After retirement from Lunkenheimer, he took a maintenance job for St. Margaret Hall, a Catholic nursing and residential care facility for Cincinnati's elderly. But in addition to his official jobs, whenever I spent time with my grandfather, he was always helping someone, like volunteering at St. Charles Catholic church, or at Longview, a state hospital for the mentally insane, bringing residents to church every Sunday, or building a greenhouse for Louis the Florist where his wife, my grandmother, worked. He also was always helping his kids with their homes, like finishing the basement in our Delaware house, or installing an attic fan, or building a desk for my mother in our Ohio house. I have never known my grandfather not to be doing something productive and useful for someone else.



Gene, Carol, Grandma, Grandpa, Rick, Jack, Mike, Pat
(Click to enlarge)

 I think the reason my grandfather means so much to me, is because whenever I was around, he always made time for me. He helped me build a number of lightening bug cages over the years, each one more elaborate than the rest. He has a lot of really great tools in his basement from his Lunkenheimer days, and he always had time to teach me to safely use the tools. My favorite was a huge belt-driven lathe, on which he taught me to turn wood and make.. well, interesting but useless things. Mostly I was just playing, but I think one of them might have ended up as a candle holder. The things I made were completely worthless, but Grandpa treated them like beautiful art, which made me feel wonderful. Whenever I was around, my grandfather always took me with him, whether it was just an amazing trip through his home's Little Kitchen and into the Attic of Incredible Things, or on a trip to his favorite lumber yard or hardware store. It made me proud to go with him down to the Napa Auto Parts store, where everyone knew his name. As I am a total introvert, for most of my life I felt like I should be seen and not heard, or better, not even seen, but with my grandfather, I always felt welcome at his side and with his friends.


Grandpa and Grandma's Wedding
(Click to enlarge.)

My grandfather was married June 1, 1940, to my grandmother, Mary Catherine Seiter. They were married 62 years, until my grandmother's death in 2003. Along the way, they raised six children. I have three children of my own, and can only assume my grandfather and grandmother were saints for achieving that accomplishment. With only an 8th grade education, my grandfather supported his family and launched his children into the successful lives they have today. Unfortunately, I don't know very much about the years when my mother was growing up in my grandfather's home, but every family gathering since I have been around is always full of love and laughter, so the years leading up to that must have set the stage in the same way.

I also admire my grandfather because he seems completely indestructible. Once when while working in the garage with my grandfather, I noticed his forearms when he was struggling with a tight bolt, and was astounded by the rippling muscles on such a gentle man. They didn't stick out like a body builder, but the strength was unmistakable, under the surface. It is unfortunate I don't follow in his footsteps in that regard! A few years later, my grandfather was helping another of his sons take down a tree, when a branch shifted, the ladder fell, and the chainsaw went where it shouldn't have. Life Flight was called but not available, so after a long trip in an ambulance, things looked really bad for my grandfather. Amazingly, he pulled through and as far as I can tell, there's not a bit of remaining damage. Incredible.

Me, Grandma, Grandpa, and my sister, Lisa
(Click to enlarge)

I do not know all the positions that my grandfather held during his 35 years at Lunkenheimer, but one that I was told about is near and dear to my heart. Supposedly my grandfather was employed as an efficiency expert in the Lunkenheimer factory, tasked with finding ways to improve quality and speed up production. Quality and efficiency are two things I look for in everything I do, probably far more than is healthy. In my first real job as a cartographer at Etak, I rose to the rank of Quality Control Technician within 9 months of starting the job. And as a Mask Designer at Intel, I lead my group of designers not because I am especially good, but because I figure out the quickest, most efficient ways to get the job done, and can pass that knowledge on to my co-workers. I truly believe I inherited those qualities from my grandfather, and it gives me no end of pleasure to think that I am following in his footsteps. I also love that my grandfather got his Efficiency Expert job at Lunkenheimer after being sent to night school, which is exactly how I got my job at Intel.



50th Wedding Anniversary
(Click to enlarge)

In my whole life, I have never heard my grandfather complain about anything or anyone. He seems to be at peace with his life and everything in it, despite any hardships that come along. I can only imagine the difficulties that came with working on a farm, living through the Great Depression, World War I and World War II, going to night school while working and raising children...  For me, I struggle daily with the comparatively minor stress of kids, homework, sports practices, instrument lessons, Bay Area traffic, money, job security, and a host of other things. One of my best remedies is to envision my grandfather and try to emulate his strength and serenity. His life is a testament to what a Good Man can accomplish in this difficult world.


Grandpa, you are my hero, and everything I want to be. I love you.


Grandpa and Me on his 95th Birthday
(Click to enlarge.)



"Hello, ladies!" (or, "The Perfect Advertising Campaign")

Commercials bug the heck out of me.  As a rule, they try to sell you something you don't need, often with lies, or at least misinformation, and they try to make you feel un-cool if you don't have what they're selling.

However, I can respect the techniques, if not the message, when a commercial is unique, funny, or just amazingly well done.  The new Old Spice ads are one of those series that just astounds me at how good they are, and how creative the whole campaign is.  Not only do they have amazing commercials, but the star is extremely charismatic, and the personalized video responses are a completely original approach to advertising.  And judging by the number of views on YouTube, this all has been an incredible success.

First, in case you haven't seen the commercials:


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=owGykVbfgUE&hd=1

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uLTIowBF0kE&hd=1


Their latest thing is to do video answers to peoples' questions/comments. Here are a few:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s5KIYhXa_8E

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J8Bli13rO9A

http://www.youtube.com/user/OldSpice#p/u/120/zI3VohWMW1Q


On that page, there are a ton more, most pretty good.  One in particular asks about getting his voice on their answering machine:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-8JsvwUcok0

So someone, not even associated with Old Spice, took that and made a program to do that for you:

http://www.oldspicevoicemail.com/

Awesome.

Oh, and it's also spawned many, many spoofs, the best of which is this one:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zkd5dJIVjgM

And this one:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=8JsbSolUF5c

Now THAT is what I call a successful advertising campaign.  No matter your feelings on ads, you've just got to admire it.  And go buy some Old Spice.

Heavenly Halo

December 31, 2009 was significant in many ways.  It marked the end of the year, of course, and also (debatably) the decade of the "zeros" or "naughties".  :)  It was also the second full moon for the month of December, known as a "Blue Moon".

In addition to all that, it was also only the second time in my life that I've seen a "moon halo":

(Click the image to enlarge.)

Moon halos occur when ice crystals in the atmosphere reflect light from the moon, similar to a rainbow.

(Click the image to enlarge.)

Both photos were taken by me, from San Jose, CA, with a 15 second exposure.

It's unfortunate I got those power lines in the picture.. wish I had noticed that at the time.  Oh well..  I'll get a better shot next time!  ;)

Can't you Hear the Whistle Blowing?

I love trains.  I really love trains.  Just imagining the power of those engines, feeling the rumbling vibrations through your body as they roar past, tugging car after 50 ton car in an endless tail behind them.

I love hearing the warning horn of the diesels approaching a grade crossing, the two longs, one short, and one long.  Even when I'm not nearby, the horn in the distance evokes the same feelings inside.

That is, until Sunday.

On Sunday, I rode Amtrak's Capitol Corridor passenger train from Sacramento to Fremont, California, about a three hour ride.  I was in the second car from the engine, in a four car consist.

(Not my picture - it was dark when I got to the train.)

I don't know if it was possible to get far enough away from the engine, but car two was not it, because every single grade crossing for three hours I heard that damned horn.  AAAARRRGH!!!

I hope eventually my love for the feelings I get hearing train whistles and horns will return, but for now, give me some earplugs, please!

Anatomy of a Really Bad Day

It seems stupid to write about everything going wrong, but I'm hoping that getting all this off my chest will help me calm down, and also that some time in the future we will be able to laugh at all this. Not yet though.



Yesterday was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

To start with I had to mail a package. I looked up the post office hours, and one of them opened at 8am. I could get there, get my box sent, then get to work not too late. However, when I got there, it turned out that it opened at 9am instead. Stupid post office.

Then, driving up San Tomas Expressway, a six lane road, I watched a squirrel attempt to make it across. He managed three lanes, the median, and my lane, and then got smashed by the car next to me. Why does this bug me so much? They're just hairy rats, right? Stupid squirrel. :(

Then, we had a quarterly event at work, which was an off-site lunch and bocce ball game. First, someone called me right before I left, and wanted to look at some layout, because she thought it was wrong. It wasn't. I knew it wasn't. I told her it wasn't. She insisted on discussing it a while. Finally, I was able to leave, but I was very late. Stupid co-worker.

Then, Google Maps was WRONG. It's the strangest thing. I got the address directly from the Campo di Bocce website, but Google Maps steared me to a DIFFERENT bocce ball court, on the same road. The spot on the map was absolutely perfect, for the wrong court. Considering the scarcity of bocce ball courts (I only know of two), the chances of this happening must be miniscule. Anyway, I called a friend and he guided me to the right place. Late, of course. Stupid Google Maps.

Oh and I found that I totally suck at bocce ball. Stupid bocce ball.

After the team-building event, I stopped at another post office to send my package. The postage was $25!!! WTF? For a small box??? That was way more than the stuff inside was even worth! I could have sent $25 and told the other person to just buy the things where they lived and keep the change! Stupid post office.

It was only 3pm, but it would be wasteful to drive all the way back to work and then back home again, so I came home and started working. However, apparantly when I'm at home, it means I'm supposed to help with homework and music and everything else. Excuse me for being on the clock.

Kira and Jordan had a Christmas concert to sing and play at that night, and Kira had a violin lesson beforehand. So, Sue took Kira to her lesson and then directly to the concert. I was to take Jordan. I left dinner on the counter for Alex and then left with Jordan.

Of course, as soon as I left, Kona, our chocolate labrador, went after the big bucket of soup and dumped it all over the floor. Alex cleaned up most of it, but I had to do the rest when I got home. Two meals worth of soup, gone. Stupid dog.

I was pretty sure the concert was at Vallco Mall at 5:45, so I took Jordan there and arrived about 5:35. We couldn't find anyone, though. We walked the entire length (maybe a quarter mile?) of the mall SIX times. I found a friend Christmas shopping, but never found any singers. I called Sue a million times, but no answer. Finally, at 6:00, I was getting very worried that it was really supposed to be Valley Fair Mall (Vallco, Valley Fair.. why do they name malls so similar?). So, we left and drove across town to the other mall. This mall is a compete maze, but we walked almost the whole thing, but didn't hear any singing. Keep in mind that this was the Christmas shopping season so the malls were totally packed, and it was at rush hour, so the roads were totally packed. Finally, I get the idea I should have had long ago and call home to ask Alex if Sue had written anything on the calendar. "Vallco Mall, outside JC Penny". Well, I was right the first time! But we never saw anyone! And now we're across town... So, I drive back there even though it’s a lost cause now, and walk every square foot of JC Penny inside and out. Nothing. Finally, I gave up and let Jordan check out some RC racing tracks in one of the stores. Later, as we leave, he thought he saw someone from his singing group. Wha..? So we look around some more and find the group packing up, BEHIND A DIVIDING WALL BY THE FOOD COURT. WTF? Who sings BEHIND a wall?

Oh well, too late now, so we drove home. While I was driving, my phone buzzed for a message. It had been left by Sue before the concert, saying where it was. Stupid AT&T didn't get the message to me until it was too late.

Sue had called from someone else's phone, because she didn't have hers. Of course, when she saw Jordan didn't show up on time, she could have borrowed someone's phone, or gone to a pay phone. But noooooo.

So, Jordan didn't get to sing, and I missed seeing my daughter play her violin, only her second public performance of her life.  This kills me.

When Sue got home afterwards, she was furious at me for not bringing Jordan. Of course, I was furious with her for not calling me. So, that conversation didn't go well, to put it mildly.

I took the dog for a long walk just to get away for a while.

At 9:00, Alex tells me he needs a gift for Secret Santa the next day. Hello? I was just at TWO malls and passed about THREE HUNDRED stores, and NOW you tell me, and HOUR before bed, AFTER most stores are closed? No. Hell no.

Oh, and my Christmas cards still aren't done.

Stop the world, I want to get off. Life sucks.


Well, my story is done, but I don't think I'm any calmer than before.  I'm still stressed, angry and depressed all rolled into one.  Oh well, here's hoping that we can laugh about all this some day.