Gratitude

It was 4 a.m. in an Army barracks. One of the cooks woke me up...I'd just gotten off duty at 1 and was NOT a happy camper.

"You gotta come, it's Ramierez...he's dead".

Well damn.

Followed the cook to the squad bay two doors down and there was Ramierez on the floor, purple, with a syringe sticking out of his arm.

Double damn.

Adrenaline kicked in and I went on autopilot. I had the cook call the base's equivalent of 911, yanked out the syringe (later found out it was full of the finest Turkish heroin) and started mouth-to-mouth on the guy. Everyone starts waking up and crowding around. Lot of Hispanic guys all jabbering in Spanish.

I'm beating on the poor bastard's chest and wishing more than anything else in the world for a defibrillator. Breathe, damn you, breathe. This goes on and on for almost 20 minutes and I am wondering where the hell is the ambulance crew.

Then, miracle of miracles, we get a heartbeat. His eyes fly open and he stares up groggily at me.

I'll never forget his words of gratitude:
"Get off me you @#$%^& homo!"

How Embarrassing

How embarassing. I took the team out for lunch on Saturday, as a reward for having to pull a rare Saturday morning installation. The bill came, and I handed the waitress my Visa card.

She came back a few minutes later and whispered, "Sir, your card has been declined." Declined? Moi? I keep X thousand dollars as a buffer on my debit card when I'm on the road! How can I be declined? Figuring it was a processing system glitch, I paid in cash. I then hit an ATM to replenish my wallet and check my balance. X thousand dollars. Whew, that's a relief!

I then went to Barnes and Noble bookstore to pick up a copy of Charles Stross' new book (The Merchants' War.....recommended!), only to find my debit card once again mysteriously declined. I tried calling the "customer service" number on the back, but was informed by the robot-voice attendant that only stolen cards could be cancelled from this number. Some service!

So this morning I called the issuing bank, and after three transfers found the root of my problem: "Well, we've had a lot of fraud in New York and California, so we've put a block on charges originating there."

Great.
Just great.

I'm up here in New York for a solid month with a non-functional debit card....it still functions as an ATM card but a lot of places (like hotels) look at you like you're from Mars if you attempt to pay in cash.

Oh, and did my bank publicize this block on charges? "Internally within our branches, yes."

Very helpful.

Man's Best Friend

Okay, I'll admit it....I once got into a pissing contest with my dog.

We were out in the deep woods chasing rabbits (okay...HE was chasing rabbits), on a glorious Fall afternoon, about a mile or two away from civilization. I had to pee. Sooo...I began to relieve myself against a nearby tree. My dog, who was maybe 25-30 yards ahead of me, immediately alerted, ears and nose pricking up, and came running at me in a beeline....stopping right in front of me. I had to stop doing what I was doing to avoid soaking man's best friend. My dog looked up at me, sniffed the bottom of the tree, and hiked his leg up and began to whizz.

I waited patiently for him to walk smugly away, then finished peeing atop where he had just sprinkled. Folks, I've never seen a dog look so irritated in my life. He sauntered back and peed over where I'd finished, then gave me a look that said "top that!"

So I did.

I managed to shake out 3 or 4 drops just to piss him off (bad pun intended). He sniffed some more.

I was jeering at him by now... "Come on, you mutt...I can do this all day, dog!"

...and I looked down in time to notice he was pooping on my foot.

The Claw!

I once worked for a software company that had their product installed at banks around the globe. One night around 10 PM, two days before Halloween, I got called at home with a particularly nasty little software bug. I decided I needed to go into the office.

I had a small problem...three small problems, actually. My wife had gone out for a "girls night out" and I had no way to reach her, so I had to rouse my three sleepy children and take them into work with me. They were excited about going on an "adventure" in the "middle of the night".

There was a large conference room next to my office at work, and I deposited the kids in there. The conference room featured a large whiteboard with a multitude of dry-erase markers, and I told the kids to draw something special for Daddy. They attacked the whiteboard with artistic glee and I went into my office.

I forgot about Rocky.

Rocky was the building janitor. He had lost both of his hands and forearms in Vietnam. He had realistic prosthetics that he used for his "day job", but at night when he emptied trashcans and cleaned offices he used two generic metal claw devices to speed up his cleaning.

I heard the bloodcurdling screams. I turned around in my chair only to be knocked over by three figures that exploded into my office with looks of sheer terror on their face. My kids dove behind me, underneath my desk.

"The claw! THE CLAW! He's COMING FOR US!"

Now, a good father would have calmed them down right then and there and shown them there was nothing to be afraid of with Mr. Rocky.

....I'm not a good dad.

I said "gee kids let me go see what's going on". They were trembling.

I walked outside my office and Rocky was standing there with a sheepish grin on his face. He started to apologize for scaring my kids but I hushed him wordlessly. I mouthed "watch this" and said loudly "Who ARE YOU? What are you doing in this building? I oughta..." and then made a gurgling sound. I "fell" back into my office, grabbing my throat in front of the kids, Rocky standing over me.

I looked over at my kids, still underneath my desk, to see if they'd wised up yet...

...and noticed my son had grabbed my phone off the desk and was in the process of dialing 911.

Whoops!

I fessed up immediately and my kids were full of nervous laughter....they kept looking suspiciously at Rocky. I don't think they got ANY sleep that night....

I won the Area contest!

I won first place in the area level of competition for the Toastmasters Humorous speech contest on Saturday!! I did my "Prague" speech and while I didn't get as many laughs as I have gotten in the past, it was still a technically flawless presentation. I'm very happy with my delivery.

The contest hierarchy goes as follows: 1) club level, 2) area level, 3) division level and finally 4) district level. The Division contest is in two weeks!

I also won 2nd place in the TableTopics category. TableTopics is a 1-2 minute impromptu speaking competition.

I marvel at how far I've come this year. Learning to be a better public speaker was a New Year's resolution that I've actually kept. Back in January, I was terrified to get in front of a crowd....now, I can't wait! Quite a change in attitude.

On To Division!

Murder upstairs!

The guy who has the corporate apartment above mine murdered his girlfriend last night! (Buffalo News Link)

This happened around 2 a.m. and the strange thing was I was awake at the time....I heard the ambulance but assumed it was the Alzheimer's lady at the nursing home next door pulling the fire alarm again (she does this twice a week).

The Project Team Has a Baby!

BABY PROJECT PLAN Version 1.0

Role	Responsibility
Project Manager	Schedules nine women to deliver a baby in one month.
Business Analyst	Estimates it will take 18 months to deliver a baby.
Offshoring Resource Coordinator	Commits to a single woman that can deliver nine babies in one month.
Client	Doesn't know why he wants a baby.
Software Vendor Representative	Commits to delivering a baby even if no man and woman are available.
Resource Optimization Team	Claims project doesn't need a man or woman; should be able to produce a child with zero resources.
Documentation Team	Doesn't care whether the child is actually delivered, they'll just document 9 months.
Quality Auditor	The person who is never happy with the process to produce a baby.
Tester	The person who always tells his wife that this is not the right baby.

A Royal Reception

When my son was eight years old and we were living in Orlando, he was a fanatical fan of the Orlando Magic. When he heard that an actual honest-to-God Orlando Magic player (Donald "D-Rock" Royal) was signing autographs at the local mall, he made it very clear that he absolutely, positively HAD to go there.

My youngest daughter got caught up in the excitement as well. She spent an entire afternoon creating a portrait of Donald Royal for him to sign. Six year olds have interesting perspectives! She drew an enormous black head on a rather stunted body, with big red ruby lips and *gulp* eyeliner. It looked like a Blackface caricature from the 1930s!

We went to the mall and stood for 45 minutes in line to meet Mr. Royal. It was a very efficient operation, a handler took the ball/jersey/hat for him to sign, a quick autograph, then the handler would shout "next!".

My son got his beloved Magic baseball cap autographed, and the handler then took my daughter's "portrait".....he looked at it distastefully and held it by one corner, as if he were being asked to handle wet toilet paper. USED wet toilet paper.

He passed the picture to Donald Royal and I'd have given anything for a video camera to have captured that moment. Royal's jaw dropped and then clenched, his face clouded and he scowled, then he looked up and saw a sweet starry-eyed six year old girl smiling ear to ear...and he melted.

He smiled and motioned her up to the table where he was signing items, and began asking her questions about the picture, where she went to school, etc. Where everyone else got a bare signature on their item, my daughter was rewarded with a full paragraph from Mr. Royal "Best wishes for your upcoming school year to a very talented young artist, Sincerely, Donald Royal, Orlando Magic Number 5".

Of course, my son was insanely jealous that Royal had taken the time to talk to her when everyone KNEW he was the number one Orlando Magic fan in the entire country!

It's been ten years and she still brings that up from time to time to get his goat!

A million little ants....

ATL - BUF Delta
Flew into Buffalo NY this evening after a long holiday weekend. I forgot that the Bills were on Monday Night Football. The Delta MD-88 did a long sweep turn over Lake Erie in preparation for landing, and I guess we were maybe 10,000 feet up. We lucky window-seaters were treated to the amazing sight of a stadium packed to the rafters with people...they looked like a million little ants. Truly impressive!

Too Old For Toys?

I was in a meeting this morning. We got off track a bit, and a very proper older woman from the Netherlands started talking about her husband.

"My husband has this interest for handcuffs and always tries to involve me...I don't understand why" (young woman near her snickers). "He's got our two sons interested in them as well." (young woman turns red).

Dutch woman continues: "My husband is forever visiting those special toy stores you have here in America and bringing home toys for me....do I look like a woman who enjoys toys? I haven't had any desire for a toy in years!" (young woman is laughing and beet red). "I shoo my husband away and tell him I shan't be a part of his little threesomes, thank you very much"

At this point, young woman, who was in the process of drinking a Coke, sprays Coke out of her nose.

Dutch woman notices this...stops and looks concerned "my dear! Are you unwell?"

Young woman replies "no no..I'm so sorry, when you said "threesomes" I thought you were referring to menage a trois!"

Dutch woman (concerned): "Oh, I am sorry dearie...I don't speak French. Do you have swallowing issues?"

A Hill of Beans

Since George Decider Bush has mismanaged the American economy to the point that the Canadian Loon is now on par with the American Dollar, I've noticed quite a few more Canadian visitors in Buffalo NY of late.

I was amazed to see 3 Canadians descend on a supermarket right next to the Peace bridge to Fort Erie. Like a plague of locusts, they were stripping every single can of baked beans from the shelves. In 3 carts they must have had over 300 cans of beans!!

The supermarket manager explained to me that there was some Canadian law that prohibited certain food items for sale without both English and French labelling and that baked beans were somewhat difficult to come by up north as few American manufacturers opted to put French labelling on their product. The price differential between Canadian baked beans and American baked beans is enormous.

I did notice that at the checkout I was not only asked "Paper or plastic"? But was also asked what currency I would be paying in!

Comedy Tonight!

After listening to Darren LaCroix tell story after story about bombing onstage at an open mic night at a comedy club, it dawned on me that I'd never been to an open mic night.

Wonder of wonders, there just happened to be one 3 blocks away from where I am staying tonight! *evil grin*

I showed up for the "7:30 show" which actually didn't get started until 8:30 pm. 10 comics and an enormous lesbian emcee. I'd say there were 5 college students from Canisius college, 1 school teacher, 2 other lesbian comics, and a guy with a guitar. Everyone did about 4-6 minutes.

It was fascinating watching this group have a collective meltdown on stage, one after the other. They were trying so hard, but the comedy wasn't there. The school teacher was onstage for her very first time and she had more "presence" and connect with the audience than anyone. She was riffing on teaching sex education to ignorant high schoolers. On a "funny scale" of 1 to 10 she was about a 4, which was the high for the night.

None of them understood pacing, and the "dead spots" were painful. I kept thinking to myself "I could do this..."

Dangerous. These are dangerous thoughts that I think.