personal

I read a nice newspaper story a while ago about Abe's Detailing in Norfolk, NE. When I wanted to have Jen's minivan detailed as a present, I thought I'd give Abe's a try and made an appointment for the $45.99 "express detail". When we picked it up later, the van looked nice, but they wanted to charge us for the $159.99 "presidential detail" that they performed instead.

I told the employee that I'd ordered the cheaper package. He said I must have talked to his brother and that his brother wrote it down wrong, and still wanted me to pay the full price for the wrong job.

I will never darken the doorsteps of Abe's Detailing in Norfolk again. If you choose to do so, I highly recommend you get a written estimate in advance.

When my alarm went off at 7:00 I got out and landed on my sister, Ari.She
fell out of bed and I fell to.I got into my clothes and went out of my room to
get breakfest.When I was done I brushed my teeth and hair.Now I could play.But I got on the computer instead.

So, I forgot my root password. For non-technical types, that's pretty much the key to the kingdom when you need to get full access to a computer, or install new software, or to make backups, or to fix something in an emergency. I use this little program called "sudo" all the time that lets you do most of the same things except with your own password. I guess it'd been so long since I'd actually needed that root password that it just slipped my mind. Still, I felt pretty dumb and resigned myself to coming up with a new one and resetting it on all the computers I use.

So, this morning something came up where I really needed that password, and without thinking I picked up a keyboard and mashed it out. It worked. "Oh joy," I though. "I'll just do it again and pay attention to what I'm typing." Except that try as I might, I just can't type that password if I'm consciously thinking about it.

This has not improved my outlook on an upcoming birthday in the slightest.

Dan Feather, aka "Vapor", died today after he lost control of his motorcycle. Dan was remarkable for his quiet decency. There were many reasons to like him, but above all else, he was a good man.

Goodbye, friend. You leave behind many people who held you in high regard.

Rest well.

I got the best fortune cookie ever a few days ago:

Your modesty will shame those with lesser knowledge.

What can I say? It was right.

I do not care whether you drive a Pinto or a Mercedes; a Geo or a Porsche. When you unload your shopping cart and then leave it sitting next to your car rather than pushing it back to the cart corral, you show your contemptible cretinism. There are no excuses. If you have the time and strength to push it through the store and out to the parking lot, you have the time and strength to push it another 50 feet to where it belongs.

Really. Without exception. If you make a million dollars a year but are too lazy and self-absorbed to care whether your own shopping cart rolls into someone else's car, then you are a loser.

We bought a Western Digital external hard drive for Jen's computer while we were in Omaha. I hooked it up when we got home and it was dead on arrival. I called for an RMA ("return material authorization" - basically permission to return it to the manufacturer) and got the replacement a few days later. Unfortunately, they didn't include a pre-paid shipping label to return the defective part, and the customer service guy wasn't too keen on giving me one. I wasn't asking for anything unreasonable or that they just justifiably deny, and here's how I got one anyway:

I have a nice Craftsman lawn mower. I like my lawn mower. I have no desire to get another lawn mower. And yet, I got another lawn mower. Jen bought a cordless string trimmer from someone she knows and they offered to throw in their mower for free, so why not?, we took it home.

I began mowing the lawn this weekend, and at one point I stopped to adjust the deck height on one side. When I tried to restart the engine, the pull cord snapped. Well, I couldn't very well leave the lawn half-mowed, so I figured I'd try the "new" one. It started, which gave it an immediate advantage over the other.

After about two laps around the yard and listening to every single moving part squeak, rattle, or tick, and given the number of knobs and levers on the thing, I named it Max, as in "Mad Max". If the bad guy from "The Road Warrior" had a wife, and she made him mow the lawn, he would have built something like this.

Summer's upon us again. The kids just got out of school on Wednesday, which reminded me that my last post was to say that the kids were just starting back and I haven't said a word since then. Anyway, we have them signed up for pretty much every summer sport offered and Gabby's getting ready to start piano lessons, so they'll be keeping pretty busy.

It seemed like such a simple idea at the time: I'd buy a cheap bike and ride to work whenever possible. I'd get fresh air, exercise, and a tan, and most importantly I'd save money on gas (because I'm a cheapskate and hate paying $3.00 per gallon regardless of whether I can afford it).

So, I went to Happy Fun Land - what we call Wal-Mart when we want to antagonize the kids - and picked up their $80 generic mountain bike. In short, that lasted for a grand total of two (2) round trips to work before a broken chain ended my patience with its mechanical problems.