Category Archives: Paul

May 13, 2015 · 22:11

Paying The Price

An issue with going to North Carolina for a week then going to Washington for a week and then going to the Angels game on Saturday and then going to the NASA Social yesterday is that there are all of those other day-in, day-out things that get shoved to the side. I’m sure that Elon Musk or Bill Gates can have someone else worry about the little details of life and have adventures and excitement every day, but the rest of us can only put things off for so long.

Today was a day to start paying the piper, and there may be a few of them coming up. Some deadlines I’ve blissfully ignored and appointments that have been pushed onto the back burner are now demanding their time. Oh, yeah, and my brother and his wife are coming in on Saturday…

The end result is that, despite best intentions, it might be a day or so before I get the NASA Social pictures sorted and my notes in order and the article(s) written up.

I’m dancing as fast as I can, as they say.

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April 29, 2015 · 23:27

730 Days

Happy Second Birthday to “We Love The Stars Too Fondly”!

730 days

800 posts (a 99% increase)

13,406 views (a 199% increase, twice the linear rate of increase)

Average views per day: 30 (was 10 for the first eight months of 2013 – note that this doesn’t count the number of people who subscribe and get the post by email, just those who come to the site on their own, through Facebook, Twitter, Google+, or LinkedIn)

Top referrers: Google (obviously, 3x Facebook, 10x Terribleminds, 10x Yahoo)

Top Search Term: “P-51D Mustang Walkaround” (okay, that’s good – what’s notable but not unexpected is the #3 term being “Paul Willett hockey,” since there’s a former minor league player by that name, as well as a Minnesota high school hockey coach by that name – as far as I can tell they’re two separate people.)

God alone knows how many words (probably around 460K+)

574 words (approximately) to the average post (down 9% from year one, might want to think about pushing that figure back up just a tad)

2517 images (2250 pictures of mine, 256 other images such as screen captures or photos taken by others, 10 videos)

1 audio file

16 panoramic photos

100 or so embedded tweets

327 current followers (112% increase, thanks to everyone who’s subscribing and letting your friends know I’m here)

743 comments (also a 199% increase, twice the linear rate, thanks to everyone who’s joining in the conversation!)

Most number of views: 265 for October 13, 2013 and 225 for June 30, 2013

Biggest source of clicks onto the site: WordPress by a landslide (almost a 20:0 ratio over #2 Scientific American)

Number of days with nothing posted: One, April 18th, 2014

Number of days where an article was written but failed to post until the next day: Two, March 21, 2015 and April 11, 2015.

Most pictures in a single post: still the total lunar eclipse April 14, 2014 (43 pictures)

Longest post not part of the NaNoWriMo effort: April 29, 2015, 1994 words (this morning? really? I didn’t know that, didn’t do it on purpose at all)

About 2/3 of a novel written in November, 2013 for NaNoWriMo (even though I “won NaNoWriMo” by passing the 50,000 word mark)

Considerably less success in November, 2014 for NaNoWriMo (only 25,693 words written, barely half of the NaNoWriMo “goal”)

Two years ago I started “We Love The Stars Too Fondly”  to force myself to be writing, be engaged, be creative, and not sit around staring at the walls sending out one resume (to be ignored) after another, watching reality television, and pounding back a pint of ice cream a day. Nearly a half million words written, over 2,500 shared pictures, four NASA Socials, one solar and three lunar eclipses, airshows and CAF events, and multiple overseas and domestic travel  sagas later, I’m feeling like this has been a good thing to do. (ICYMI, I’m still looking for that job,which sucks. If you can help with the search, please get in touch with me.)

I want to thank everyone who reads my rants and goofy fiction, enjoys the pictures, and comments when I say something either stupid, inspiring, or both. I appreciate all of the folks who found me early and have stuck with me even if they aren’t family and “have to!” I also appreciate all of the folks who have just stumbled on this site and are checking to see if I can write better than your average bear.

I hope you’ll all continue to stick around as I start ranting, photographing, traveling, writing, and blatherationing into our third year.

I’m having fun, getting nowhere some days but making good time. I hope you are as well.

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April 14, 2015 · 22:19

Fun & Games With The Sun

Home again after almost a week in Raleigh-Durham, North Carolina. The trip home, unlike the trip out, was uneventful. We boarded and left the gates on time, or even early, and got in 0n time, making all of our connections. Our luggage did as well.

Ho-hum.

On the other hand, I don’t remember ever being this sleep-deprived except perhaps for sometime in a previous life – and I suspect that it might have been the thing that killed me in that life. Nothing that a good fourteen hours of sleep won’t solve. Or at least ten hours.

This morning we took off in the dark out of RDU, but about half way to DFW the sunrise caught up with us from behind, revealing a cloud deck that stretched from horizon to horizon.

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April 5, 2015 · 22:49

Do You Play The Lottery?

I do, but mainly because I long ago made myself neurotic about it, not because it makes sense.

When the first lottery games started in California in 1985, I had no intention of playing. The first games were “scratcher” games, which I’ve never played and which I have zero interest in playing. Other folks…

When the first weekly game started in 1986, I again had no intention of playing. I have a degree in Physics with a decent amount of math, as well as an MBA, so I have a pretty good grasp on both statistics and Return On Investment (ROI). I’m well aware that the best course would be to take those $1 bets, put the money in a safe bank account, and occasionally buy a share of a blue chip stock. Anything else was a fantasy.

But that’s logic. This isn’t a logical or rational transaction. It’s terror-based.

Admittedly at a time in my life when I might have been a little bit more stressed than “normal,” I got a bit of a phobia about not playing. (In a way it’s a bit like why I know why I’m freaked out by snakes, but that’s a story for another day.) At the office, we were shooting the breeze, talking about the Lottery game that had just started, and someone said, “Okay, you’re not going to play. Got it. No problem. But, just for fun, if you were going to play, what would ‘your’ numbers be and why?”

In retrospect, this was very much like Gozer the Gozarian asking the Ghostbusters to choose the form of the Destructor. Ray accidentally thought of the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man and the rest was history. In my case, my brain almost immediately said, “Easy, they would be x1, x2, x3, x4, x5, and x6, because this is that and that from dates that mean a lot to me, these are from this, that, and the other birthday. Simple, I would never forget them.”

And I didn’t. And couldn’t. And haven’t.

At the time, when the Lottery was very new to California and getting quite a bit of attention, every time they would pick new weekly numbers it was a big deal. It was treated like it was actual news. Live television, front page of the paper, repeated about once an hour for the next day on the radio, etc.

Occasionally I would hear one of ‘my’ numbers. Sometimes two. Once three. And every time, my primitive, monkey-based, Terror-R-Us, neanderthal brain stem would scream, “WHAT IF THEY PICK ‘OUR’ NUMBERS AND WE DIDN”T BUY A TICKET AND WE’LL KNOW FOR THE REST OF OUR LIVES THAT WE MISSED BY JUST **THAT** MUCH BEING FINANCIALLY WELL OFF FOR THE REST OF OUR LIVES AND WHY DIDN’T WE TAKE A TEENY, TINY CHANCE AND BUY A TICKET IT’S ONLY A DOLLAR WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME SO SCARED??!!!”

So, usually, I buy lottery tickets. I’m not obsessed with making sure that I never miss a drawing. If I get tied up and busy with something it’s not a big deal, and there have been times when I haven’t bought them for months. Then, a couple of numbers will catch my eye…

As for the “other folk” who play the scratchers game, I once knew someone who would buy scratchers tickets and then keep them in his wallet until he “felt lucky.” Then he would scratch the foil off, figuring he had better odds than if he had just scratched it off at some other “unlucky” time. I once pointed out that the card had been printed and manufactured weeks or months before, sitting in storage and in the liquor store (or wherever) until its turn came up and he bought it. The numbers weren’t magically rearranging themselves under there like some bizarre quantum physics experiment, a cultural variation  on Schröedinger’s Cat. I was told that they were doing that, it was better to wait until he “felt lucky.”

Everything’s relative. Whenever I feel a bit neurotic about my terror-based purchase of a lottery ticket, I remember that at least I’m not that guy.

It’s a small source of comfort to me.

What’s your story?

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March 30, 2015 · 23:39

Macho Studmuffinly Stuff

Okay, this is going to be stupid. I know that even before I begin. I’m going to tell the story anyway.

I’m not a big mechanical sort of guy. I don’t do a lot of work on cars, I haven’t built or rebuilt my own house. At the hangar I can get called on when they need an extra pair of hands to hold something or push something or help lift something, but no one in their right minds would ever let me actually use a wrench or pair of pliers or a screwdriver on a critical airplane system without the kind of oversight you might give to a 5-year-old who wants to play mechanic.

Well, maybe it’s not that bad. I can and have changed the oil on my (older) cars, I can change out the battery (even on the PT Cruiser, which requires removal of multiple tubes and air filters to get at the battery to begin with), I can change a tire. I can fix bicycles, we did strip wallpaper and paint the bedroom, I’m actually pretty good at some landscape and gardening tasks (except for use of jack hammers).

With that said, it’s time to bite the bullet, one way or the other, and get The Younger Daughter’s car fixed. About two years ago it had a $30 part in the ignition switch assembly break, I spent four days stranded in Coalinga, and Chrysler wanted $2,000+ to put in an entire new steering column instead of simply replacing the $30 part. I eventually had a mechanic in Coalinga jury rig the ignition to work around the broken part. It was enough to get me back to Los Angeles, and then the car got driven every now and then just to keep the fluids moving and the belts doing their belting thing. Functional, more or less, but it’s not a workable solution for daily use.

This was not a priority with The Younger Daughter in Asia or South America for years at a time. The car just sat in our driveway. When she showed up unexpectedly for my birthday ten days ago, the need to get it fixed shot to the top of the priority list.

The $30 part is available online, along with a video showing how to do the replacement. It doesn’t look like rocket science, almost easy enough for me to try, but it would require a couple of anti-theft specialty tools which I don’t have and don’t know if I could get. Plus, see above — “not a big mechanical sort a guy.”

Chrysler continues to be bureaucratic and stupid (no more Chryslers for us!) so we found a local, small, individual repair shop that got great reviews on Yelp. I had used them a couple times before for other things and had real good service, so we gave them a try to at least look at it. They were fantastic, checked out the part, looked at the video, listened to my story, and said, “Sure, we could do that for a couple hundred dollars.” Exactly what I was looking for.

This morning we got a call. The mechanic had gotten the part, had it installed — but did I have this other part from the housing around the ignition? It must have been taken off by the Coalinga mechanics when they jury rigged it two years ago, but I didn’t have it. It wasn’t anywhere in the car that we could see or anywhere here at the house. Could we order another one? Nope, not in any catalogs.

Time to give up and spend the $1,300 for the parts on a new steering column and have this guy install it for less than Chrysler would, but still making it a very, very repair?

No way! It’s time for an adventure!

The solution to this missing part problem? Someone (i.e., me and The Younger Daughter) need to go to a junkyard or “pick it parts place” and find a junked PT Cruiser, tear open the steering column, take off this one missing piece, and bring it back. Simple, no?

But harken back if you will to my comments about my mechanical skills and abilities, or the lack thereof. While I know of these places in theory and the task seemed relatively straightforward on paper, my first reaction to having me do it was to scoff. Or snort. Or possibly both.

The Younger Daughter’s google-fu was strong and she found a junkyard that does this sort of thing. (It’s Los Angeles, there are dozens of them apparently. Not a big surprise.) I re-watched the YouTube video that shows the repair to refresh my memory of how the steering column comes apart. We checked with our mechanic to make sure that I knew what part I needed. I asked about the specialized tools and our mechanic actually loaned me his. (No way there’s another auto repair shop in LA that does that!) Off we go, the stereotypical fishes out of water, looking like something out of a Chevy Chase movie.

The Younger Daughter can’t get into the monstrously huge pick-it parts junkyard because she’s wearing sandals. (Did I mention the “fish out of water” part?) I go in alone with my little bag of tools and I’m facing what looks like a hundred acres or more of junked cars, thousands and thousands of them. Their website says there are three or four PT Cruisers in here — it doesn’t say a thing about where.

Before I look totally lame and stupid to the junk-yard dudes and start asking for help, my tattered remnants of macho studmuffinly pride tell me to wander for a bit to see if I can find one. It’s only about 93°F out there…

And then a miracle happened.

After less than five minutes of wandering and looking at cars, I find a PT Cruiser. And its steering column is intact. And between my tools and the special anti-theft tools loaned to me by the mechanic, in less than ten minutes I have the steering column torn apart and the missing part in my hand. And it costs about $4.

We hustle it back to the mechanic, return his tools with a thousand thanks, and pray that it’s the correct part. I’m still figuring that the gods are just screwing with me and it will be the wrong size, or from the wrong year’s model, or somehow different and useless. But less than two hours later, the car is done and The Younger Daughter again has a functional vehicle.

I’m not a religious person, but that’s a close as I’ve seen to an actual case of Divine Intervention as I’ve seen in quite a while.

However, because I’m not a religious person, tonight I’m feeling quite unreasonably full of myself and taking great pride in my manly, testosterone-laced, mechanical accomplishments. (Cue all of those Tim Allen routines about “More Power!” and manly men pounding on their chests while hooting and honking like Neanderthals.)

I used tools!

I got grease and dirt on my hands!

I kicked that junked PT Cruiser’s ass and ripped out the part I needed to transplant in The Younger Daughter’s car!

Har! Har! Haarrr! Haarrrrr!! (*pounds chest and howls at the moon*)

 

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March 20, 2015 · 23:42

Badger-Brain Time

I worked for decades as a financial controller, but I learned accounting in the trenches, as a night auditor for Marriott way back in my college days. As a result of that, plus my at times slightly obsessive nature (for better or for worse), when given a particularly thorny accounting problem to solve or a complex fiduciary can of worms to untangle, I tend to dive into it and grab hold like a badger or a pit bull and NOT LET GO until I get it solved.

Focus. Adrenaline. Deadlines. Ask for them by name.

This can be good, or at least useful. Or maybe “productive” would be a better term. But one of the side effects is that I dive in and about five to fifteen hours later come up for air, only to realize that everyone’s gone to bed, I haven’t eaten (not a problem tonight, I ate) or had any fluids, my legs and butt and shoulders are cramping, and I’ve got about fifteen minutes to knock out something for the blog before today turns into a pumpkin.

It’s 23:45, I’ve got our CAF monthly staff meeting tomorrow morning, I still have to pull my final February figures together, and I’m trying to finish up the final reconciliation for “Fifi’s” tour here last week. Guess what happened this evening and how late I’m going to be up tonight?

Here, have some more surf pictures. They’re very shiny and pretty.

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March 19, 2015 · 22:49

Another Orbit

Another orbit around our primary star completed successfully, given a reasonable subset of all realities to be defined as “successful.”

Best gift: Younger Daughter’s surprise arrival.

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The Long-Suffering Wife surprised me big time with balloons waiting for me on my desk at the CAF hanger. So much for laying low and being discreet there.

Well played, wife, well played.

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The Long-Suffering Blue Mom-mobile Minivan got into the “red letter day” spirit with this today. In car years, it might be older than I am. (And yes, we were stopped when I took this. I’m not an idiot. At least, I’m not that kind of an idiot.)

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I can just about count on one hand the number of times I’ve ever taken pictures of my dinner in a restaurant. (I did it a couple times on the Asian trip, because I was so far outside my comfort zone that I wasn’t sure people back home would believe what I was eating voluntarily.) Tonight’s dinner at a favorite local Italian restaurant was incredibly good, “Pollo California” with jumbo shrimp, lemon sauce on chicken breast, avacado, and more. Of course, the little paper umbrella made it special!

Thanks, y’all!

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March 14, 2015 · 16:43

Happy Pi Day!

Because pi=3.14159 26535 89793 23846 26433 83279 50288 41971 69399 37510 58209 74944 59230 78164 06286 20899 86280 34825 34211 70679 82148 08651 32823 06647 09384 46095 50582 23172 53594 08128 48111 74502 84102 70193 85211 05559 64462 29489 54930 38196 44288 10975 66593 34461 28475 64823 37867 83165 27120 19091 45648 56692 34603 48610 45432 66482 13393 60726 02491 41273 72458 70066 06315 58817 48815 20920 96282 92540 91715 36436 78925 90360 01133 05305 48820 46652 13841 46951 94151 16094 33057 27036 57595 91953 09218 61173 81932 61179 31051 18548 07446 23799 62749 56735 18857 52724 89122 79381 83011 94912 98336 73362 44065 66430 86021 39494 63952 24737 19070 21798 60943 70277 05392 17176 29317 67523 84674 81846 76694 05132 00056 81271 45263 56082 77857 71342 75778 96091 73637 17872 14684 40901 22495 34301 46549 58537 10507 92279 68925 89235 42019 95611 21290 21960 86403 44181 59813 62977 47713 09960 51870 72113 49999 99837 29780 49951 05973 17328 16096 31859 50244 59455 34690 83026 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81198 00497 34072 39610 36854 06643 19395 09790 19069 96395 52453 00545 05806 85501 95673 02292 19139 33918 56803 44903 98205 95510 02263 53536 19204 19947 45538 59381 02343 95544 95977 83779 02374 21617 27111 72364 34354 39478 22181 85286 24085 14006 66044 33258 88569 86705 43154 70696 57474 58550 33232 33421 07301 54594 05165 53790 68662 73337 99585 11562 57843 22988 27372 31989 87571 41595 78111 96358 33005 94087 30681 21602 87649 62867 44604 77464 91599 50549 73742 56269 01049 03778 19868 35938 14657 41268 04925 64879 85561 45372 34786 73303 90468 83834 36346 55379 49864 19270 56387 29317 48723 32083 76011 23029 91136 79386 27089 43879 93620 16295 15413 37142 48928 30722 01269 01475 46684 76535 76164 77379 46752 00490 75715 55278 19653 62132 39264 06160 13635 81559 07422 02020 31872 77605 27721 90055 61484 25551 87925 30343 51398 44253 22341 57623 36106 42506 39049 75008 65627 10953 59194 65897 51413 10348 22769 30624 74353 63256 91607 81547 81811 52843 66795 70611 08615 33150 44521 27473 92454 49454 23682 88606 13408 41486 37767 00961 20715 12491 40430 27253 86076 48236 34143 34623 51897 57664 52164 13767 96903 14950 19108 57598 44239 19862 91642 19399 49072 36234 64684 41173 94032 65918 40443 78051 33389 45257 42399 50829 65912 28508 55582 15725 03107 12570 12668 30240 29295 25220 11872 67675 62204 15420 51618 41634 84756 51699 98116 14101 00299 60783 86909 29160 30288 40026 91041 40792 88621 50784 24516 70908 70006 99282 12066 04183 71806 53556 72525 32567 53286 12910 42487 76182 58297 65157 95984 70356 22262 93486 00341 58722 98053 49896 50226 29174 87882 02734 20922 22453 39856 26476 69149 05562 84250 39127 57710 28402 79980 66365 82548 89264 88025 45661 01729 67026 64076 55904 29099 45681 50652 65305 37182 94127 03369 31378 51786 09040 70866 71149 65583 43434 76933 85781 71138 64558 73678 12301 45876 87126 60348 91390 95620 09939 36103 10291 61615 28813 84379 09904 23174 73363 94804 57593 14931 40529 76347 57481 19356 70911 01377 51721 00803 15590 24853 09066 92037 67192 20332 29094 33467 68514 22144 77379 39375 17034 43661 99104 03375 11173 54719 18550 46449 02636 55128 16228 82446 25759 16333 03910 72253 83742 18214 08835 08657 39177 15096 82887 47826 56995 99574 49066 17583 44137 52239 70968 34080 05355 98491 75417 38188 39994 46974 86762 65516 58276 58483 58845 31427 75687 90029 09517 02835 29716 34456 21296 40435 23117 60066 51012 41200 65975 58512 76178 58382 92041 97484 42360 80071 93045 76189 32349 22927 96501 98751 87212 72675 07981 25547 09589 04556 35792 12210 33346 69749 92356 30254 94780 24901 14195 21238 28153 09114 07907 38602 51522 74299 58180 72471 62591 66854 51333 12394 80494 70791 19153 26734 30282 44186 04142 63639 54800 04480 02670 49624 82017 92896 47669 75831 83271 31425 17029 69234 88962 76684 40323 26092 75249 60357 99646 92565 04936 81836 09003 23809 29345 95889 70695 36534 94060 34021 66544 37558 90045 63288 22505 45255 64056 44824 65151 87547 11962 18443 96582 53375 43885 69094 11303 15095 26179 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46101 26483 69998 92256 95968 81592 05600 10165 52563 7567 to ten thousand digits, just in case you were wondering.

And as always, pie are squared, but in real life, pie are round. As are pizza pies, usually. So we’re having apple pie and pizza pie for dinner tonight!

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March 13, 2015 · 20:10

My Funeral

First of all, I’m fine. I’m not dying, at least, not any more than the rest of us. I didn’t get any recent news of a tumor, blocked artery, or astronomically high blood pressure, nor do I know of a bullet or a bus with my name on it.

I am not superstitious (or “stupidstitious”) about it being Friday The 13th. Today’s date means nothing other than tomorrow is “Pi Day Of The Century“! Which also means nothing, since the calendar and our measurement of time is about 90% arbitrary, but it’s a great excuse to be goofy and have pie. Mmmmm, pie…

But this song came up in my playlist the other day (see #16) and my brain got to spinning off onto a dozen tangents, as it is occasionally wont to do. (Silly brain.) So, given greater and lesser amounts of seriousness, to be updated periodically as I change my mind or come up with other goofy crap to do, here are some suggestions/requests/orders (you don’t want to be haunted, do you?) for my eventual funeral:

  1. Please do not call it a funeral. “Memorial service,” “life celebration,” whatever the politically correct term of the week is, but not “funeral.” Although as you’ll see, I want the “fun” put back in “funeral!”
  2. Someone take a LOT of pictures. I would do it, but, you know, “dead” and all that.
  3. If at all possible, start the event just before sunset, outdoors, under a clear sky.
  4. Wearing a suit and tie or fancy dress will be frowned upon, unless of course some serious (and entertaining) gender-bending is going on. Depending on the weather, if you must wear “normal” clothes, Hawaiian shirts for summer or turtlenecks for winter are okay.
  5. Extra points: Wear Hawaiian shirts with airplanes on them.
  6. Beaucoup extra points: Wear turtlenecks with airplanes on them.
  7. All things being equal, people should be encouraged to wear costumes — fannish friends might consider bringing extras for the mundane factions of my family and friends.
  8. If not into fannish costumes, mundane costumes will do. Angels, Chiefs, or Kings jerseys and/or hats are all acceptable. Their rivals’ gear will, obviously, not be acceptable.
  9. Extra points: Anyone wearing a combination of Angels, Chiefs, and Kings gear will be recognized for their creativity and given a seat of honor for the event as a reward.
  10. Beaucoup extra points: Have the Angels’ World Series trophy, the Chiefs’ Lombardi Trophy, or the Stanley Cup there for people to take selfies with.
  11. Have a flyover. My pals at the CAF will do a great job.
  12. Extra points: Get the Blue Angels or Air Force Thunderbirds instead of the CAF.
  13. Beaucoup extra points: Get the Blue Angels, and the Air Force Thunderbirds, in addition to the CAF.
  14. Everyone’s invited. (Yes, that means you too!)
  15. God’s invited (s/he’s included in “everyone”) but it’s my party, not God’s, so let’s not make any deities the Guest of Honor, ok? Either I’ll be some mythical afterlife actually talking to some deity or another (my mother’s bet) or I simply won’t (my bet). Either way, I’ll know and you won’t. (Wait, if I’m…then I won’t… Never mind.)
  16. Play “Into The West” from Lord Of The Rings: Return Of The King, the one sung by Annie Lennox. I absolutely love that song and have wanted it played at my funeral memorial service ever since I first heard it.
  17. Extra points: Get Annie Lennox to sing it live with a full orchestra.
  18. Beaucoup extra points: Get Annie Lennox to sing it live with a full orchestra and Amanda Palmer!
  19. Tell jokes, tell stories, tell more jokes. I’ve done plenty of stupid things, let’s relive them in all their glory.
  20. Share my photographs, and keep sharing them for years and years beyond. They’re a big part of the proof that I was here.
  21. If I’ve managed to get any of my stories published, read some choice selections. If I didn’t break through, pick a couple of my less sucky Flash Fiction efforts to fill time until it gets dark.
  22. As it gets dark, keep the lights off (or at least to a minimum, or hand out flashlights with red lenses) so that everyone can get dark adapted.
  23. Bring out the telescopes and spend the evening (all night if you want!) with everyone taking turns looking through them at the planets, stars, nebulae, comets, moon…
  24. Whatever the venue, sing. Sing filksongs, but use the broad definition of the term (“Anything I’ve ever heard sung at a filksing”) so that things like “A Dying Cub’s Fan Last Request” are included (yeah, gotta sing that one!), and don’t limit it to just filksongs. If it feels good, sing it!
  25. With luck I will have had organs donated, so let people know what went where. I want any usable spare parts of mine used to help others when I’m no longer in need of them, and others should be encouraged to do the same. Have forms there for people to sign up for blood and platelet donations, as well as become organ donors.
  26. Serve chocolate chip cookies, Oreos, chocolate cake, ice cream, apple pie… None of this vegy plate and health food crap – life’s too short, as I will have obviously just demonstrated.
  27. Alternative idea #1: If it’s cloudy or you can’t find a dark sky location, or if it’s just later in the evening and you’re “telescoped out”, light up as many Christmas lights as you can (make it visible from space!) and then follow up with a massive fireworks display.
  28. Alternative idea #2: Have all of the above (or as much as practical) at a ball game. Angels, Chiefs, or Kings doesn’t matter. Can you just imagine a group of my family members, my CAF friends, my fannish friends, and other assorted knuckleheads taking up a whole section at an Angels game on a Big Bang Friday and partying all night?
  29. No flowers. Just because I’ll be dead doesn’t mean that we need to spend a money killing a bunch of innocent flora, most of which are probably allergens to someone in attendance. Instead, take the money you might have spent on flowers and donate it to a worthy charity. The CAF. Habitat For Humanity. UNICEF. Pick a group that’s going to deliver the biggest bang for your buck and help the most people.
  30. In other words, if you wish to donate in my memory, please pick a good, efficient charity, by which I mean one that isn’t going to piss away huge chunks of the donations on six-figure CEO salaries. Education is a huge area of interest, so maybe a group that puts disadvantaged kids through college, or just helps them get through high school. Or maybe a group that educates girls and young women in societies where they’re considered property. (You get the idea – if in doubt, read a few of my rants to see what pissed me off, then give to the group I would consider “the good guys.”)
  31. Hug The Long-Suffering Wife and my kids for me, early and often. As much as I might want this to be a silly & fun party instead of a somber & serious funeral, they might have have a tougher time than I will playing their parts.
  32. Have fun!!

I’ll see you there! (Wait, I forgot…)

Actually, by the time I plan on going, we’ll be doing all of this just to say goodbye to the meat-sack part of me. The all-important “me” part of me will be uploaded into a computer or robot and I’ll be there partying right along with you.

Beaucoup BEAUCOUP Extra Points: Upload “me” into the computer of a Goliath-class starship scout vessel, load the party and all of my friends and family on board, and let’s party on (or at least, near) all nine planets! (Yes, Pluto too.) Drop off those who want to stay back on Earth, then the rest of us will head outbound at some large multiple of c.

Yeah, that’s the best plan of all.

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February 18, 2015 · 23:08

Landlubber!

It’s 22:50 already? What happened to the day, and the night as well? Oh, yeah, got that done, and feel good about slaying that dragon at last, and the Kings won again tonight (six in a row, back into a playoff spot, woo hoo!), but there are no more functional brain cells in the creative part of my grey matter.

Back to the Silly Word Flashcard deck!

Tonight’s word is “landlubber.” I’m guessing that most of us know what it means, but it’s in here because it sound silly, not because we don’t know what it is. (Unlike “smellfungus!”) It’s defined as “someone who doesn’t know about boats or hasn’t been out to sea.” Fair enough.

The first thing that grabs me about the other information on the card is that under “Similar Words” is says, “This word is one of a kind!”

I beg to differ.

There might not be any similar words pertaining to the sea, but there are plenty of words for someone who doesn’t know about a particular aspect of life. The first thing that comes to my mind is what I was called (among other things) when I moved to Vermont at age 13. In Vermont, if you come from outside, particularly from another state or, worse, from one of the big cities like Boston or New York City, you are a “flatlander.” It’s not a compliment.

Terms such as “carpetbagger” or “snowbird” indicate someone from outside the area, often referring to someone coming in to take advantage of the locals or take away something they’re not entitled to. But “landlubber” and “flatlander” refer to someone without experience, with an overtone indicating that in their ignorance they’re missing out on something wonderful and glorious and should be pitied or scorned because of it.

The second thing that I see is the “See Also” recommendation — “Cats.” There’s a subtle humor in there which I find charming.

Finally, I recall that in several science fiction novels there are created terms that would be the space age equivalent of “landlubber,” indicating with the same scorn someone who has not been off-planet. “Dirtgrubber” or something of the same ilk.

Any of my Vermont friends have any further insight on the use of “flatlander?” Any other terms that anyone can think of to fit into the same category as flatlander and landlubber?

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