January 6, 2001
Saturday 11:02 pm

Happy new year one and all. It's the first year of a new millennium, and I have made a new year's resolution not to use the word "millennium" again for at least a thousand years, at which time I can only hope that we have evolved into more sophisticated beings who determine the passage of time based on fact and not whim.

We've decided we don't know how to spell c.c.'s name. Originally it was C.C., but the use of all capital letters was dominating for such a small cat, particularly when used in conjunction with Opie's name. So we switched to all lower case, which seemed to fit better, but it makes it hard to start a sentence with c.c.'s name. We considered CeCe and Ceecy, but they didn't feel right.

And then there's the matter of deciding exactly what "c.c." stands for. Originally it was Calico Cat, but we learned later that she is not a true Calico. But we liked the name, so we finagled "Chatty Cat" - she is very vocal and conversant; just making eye contact evokes a stream of mews and meows that are a definite dialog.

Since the beginning, c.c. has followed Opie around, first at a distance, later as a companion, to learn the ropes from the master. Fortunately, Opie accepted the little one and accepted the role as surrogate parent. We thought it would be asking too much for c.c. to pick up Opie's habit of always using the outdoors for bathroom duty, but that seems to be the case- the litter box has been relatively unused since November, even during the recent snow. When we're both around and Opie chooses a lap to occupy, c.c. must occupy the other lap. I wouldn't call them inseparable (yet), but a bond has definitely developed. Opie is c.c.'s hero, and he loves playing the role.

So now c.c. could stand for Carbon Copy (of Opie - maybe spelled cc:)

This begins the fourth year of the Opie Project - Opie has reached middle age and is not the wildly energetic mouser of former days, but c.c. seems ready to fill the void. We suspect this year will be a year of change at the Project. One immediate change is in the upper right corner of the most current page - a link to the corresponding entry from last year, for comparison purposes. All entries between that one and the current one are still available by clicking on the entry numbers listed on the left side of the screen.

And finally, this is the weekend we dismantle Christmas. Seems like it was just mantled.

January 24, 2001
Wednesday 10:59 pm

That's an Intel Pocket PC Camera. It's a no-frills digital camera - no view screen, no zoom, fixed focus, 8 Mb of non-removable memory, maximum res of 640x480, and it takes up to twelve 10-second video clips (the little stand is detachable). I got a bunch of gift cards for Christmas, many for the same electronics store, so I purchased the above. It's only $150 bucks. The pictures ain't bad, although the video segments are a little fuzzy (hey, whaddya expect for $150?). And as soon as I figure out how to put videos on the website, you'll be able to see Opie and c.c. in action. Ten seconds at a time.

It also doubles as a web cam. Potential for a live broadcast of the wonder felines, but I'm gonna hafta to think about that.

Here's a coupla samples.

The first is c.c., just being herself. Now look carefully at the second - in the upper right quadrant there is a blur. That's c.c., diving into the picture just as the shutter was closing (I know there's no actual shutter opening and closing in digital cameras - but it works as an analogy). And on that note, there is a built in noise that sounds like a shutter closing when the button is pushed, for the insecure. Cool.

This cheapy camera has potential :)

January 29, 2001
Monday 10:19 pm

Didja win big in your local Super Bowl pool?

Me neither.

As Super Bowls go, it was typical. An unexciting, one-sided game. Not that the game has any significance; the Super Bowl is just a showcase for commercials and future lounge acts.

We had a fire alarm go off at work today. No big deal. But it was loud. Woke me up. Everybody was running around trying to figure out how to turn it off. By the time that was accomplished someone thought that the fire department.should be informed that this was a false alarm. It was then that the big red truck rolled up out front. No problem, they checked the faulty alarm and headed back.

Not bad for a Monday, I guess.

February 2, 2001
Friday 10:19 pm

Groundhog day. Don't groundhogs know they're supposed to be hibernating now? Would you plan your springtime activities around the actions of a sleep-deprived rodent?

Well, one of our resident felines brought home a mouse today, the first one in two months. It was securely ensconced beneath the living room chair when I got home. Opie had one side of the chair, c.c. the other, and the mouse was wisely biding his time. Now if two cats couldn't flush him out, I didn't expect to have much luck either. So I propped open the front door, opened the sliding glass door to the deck and piled clothes across the hallway (to direct him toward the doors and away from the bedrooms). Then I locked c.c. in a bedroom (unlike Opie, she just doesn't quit trying) and directed Opie to a neutral corner. Then a quick overturn of the chair and the race was on. But the mouse couldn't find either door. He ended up burrowed under the clothes in the hallway. Which made it easy to chase him into an empty cereal box and transport him to the warmth and security of the compost heap. Then it was simply a matter of picking up the laundry from the hallway, closing the doors and righting the chair. And letting a loudly-complaining c.c. out of the bedroom. She ran right back to the chair and waited there until she heard the electric can opener (we have two electric can openers, one just for cat food. They know which is which by the sound).

I've been carrying my cheapy little digital camera everywhere, photographing whatever looked interesting. I've got shots of my street at night, sunset from the parking lot at work, and birds feeding in the back yard. But the entire mouse-liberating chase this evening went unphotographed. I didn't even think about it. I must adjust.. And I will.

February 8, 2001
Thursday 7:29 pm

I have mentioned before that I have been taking random pictures of nothing in particular with my new ultra-cheap digital camera. And you may have noticed that many of them have ended up with the notes for me, the Wife and the Cats. I realized that at this rate, my server space is going to be eaten up half way through the year, since all pictures posted on this site are archived for a year. Unfortunately, most people seem to like the pictures (worth a thousand words, and all that), so I tend to want put them out there every day.

Such a dilemma ("dilemma" is an interesting word, isn't it? I use it a lot. Mainly because I have lots of dilemmas).

So I decided to add a page with daily random photos (mostly of the fabulous felines being themselves) - it would be updated every day with new pictures, and the old ones would be history - no archiving as with the Notes pages - so I'd only be using three or four pictures-worth of server space at any given time.

There would also be links to whatever is newly updated that day, so you wouldn't have to visit every page of the Opie Project to find out what's new.

So now I hafta figure out a clever presentation for all this. And I will. Check back soon at the constantly-improving Opie Project :)

February 15, 2001
Thursday 12:05 am

Have you devoured all your Valentine candy yet? Or were you presented with non-edible delights like flowers or jewelry? Or DVD's.

We tend to exchange unconventional gifts on Valentine's Day (and most gift-giving occasions for that matter). So this year the Wife received a Billy Joel concert on DVD and I was given Poltergeist on DVD (haven't seen that in a while). They were accompanied by humorous greeting cards.

Part of the niece/nephew contingent sent the Wife the more conventional offering of flowers. The other part came up with a set of Mickey Mouse candles - just different enough.

We ordered a take-out dinner from our favorite Italian restaurant and added our new DVD's to the pile of others we haven't watched yet.

All in all, a fun day.

Next holiday gift: Unconventional Easter baskets :)

February 21, 2001
Wednesday 12:29 am


Is it Wednesday already?

There seems to be a difference of opinion regarding that stork on our front lawn last week. Seems a growing contigent believes it to be a Blue Heron. This after much discussion and visits to internet sites specializing in water fowl (of which there are many).

Herons have been spotted in this neck o' the woods before - storks have not. Storks are white - this one was not. The only pictures we could find of Herons have them holding their heads close to their bodies - it's hard to tell just how long their necks are.

And then there are cranes - dozens of varieties (and apparently at least one website for each). The Wife found one site that had a sound file that played the call of a particular species of crane, and when she clicked on it, an intense c.c.. charged into the room, searching out the source of what was obviously some wild animal on her turf. And just as she called off the search and headed back to the living room, the Wife played it again, and again the search was on. But c.c. is getting older and wiser - it didn't work a third time (although her ears were vigorously scanning the surroundings).

So I'll concede that it was a Blue Heron in the interests of harmony and probable truth, but in the words of Tommy Lee Jones in The Fugitive, I don't care.

February 26, 2001
Monday 6:49 am


It snowed again last week. We've had more snow this February than we had all last year (if the local tv weatherman is to be believed). The plows took care of the roads within 24 hours, but 7-8 inches of the stuff remained on the lawns. Meaning the cats don't get much of a chance to explore the outdoors when the snow is that deep. Opie did make his morning rounds to the best of his ability, then chose to explore the warm and dry indoors. But c.c., who has elected to bound around in every snow like it was the first snowfall of the season, with getting anywhere being of secondary concern, chose to do no more than stand at the door and complain. I let her have her say then closed the door.

So it was a good weekend for making hot chocolate and watching movies. The Wife also made popcorn, and we put on "Being John Malkovich." This is a weird, weird movie. And as the ending credits rolled and we looked at each other, silently asking what was that all about, Opie appeared as if on cue and gently placed a mouse in the center of the living room. What usually follows is standard procedure - Opie will sit quietly while the mouse seeks shelter. Well, Opie did his part, but the mouse did nothing. Meanwhile c.c. had been dozing on the couch and wasn't immediately aware that a rodent was among us. The mouse just sat there, looking around. Before we knew it, c.c. had leapt from the couch and she and the mouse made a blur toward the kitchen, with us in luke-warm pursuit.

The mouse had stopped in the middle of the kitchen floor, sat up on his haunches and was chattering loud and long at c.c., who was totally taken aback. The mouse chattering continued, and c.c. finally backed off and walked away. The Wife and I were also taken aback, and with c.c. out of the kitchen, the mouse turned to us, chattering still. I took a roundabout route to the sliding glass door in the dining room and slid it open, then returned to the kitchen where the Wife and I flanked the still-chattering upright mouse and succeeed in convincing him to visit the dining room. Once the chill air from the outdoors attracted his attention, he was gone. We watched him scurry down the stair risers and onto the fence rails that led him back to the woods.

And we thought the movie was weird.

March 2, 2001
Friday 2:49 am


I had mentioned when we first got c.c. back in September, that I hoped she would pick up Opie's good habits, like doing her business outside and not requiring a litterbox indoors. To my amazement, that's just the way it worked out. And it's not just coincidence -- c.c. is a regular copy cat. Whenever Opie goes out, c.c. has to go too. She doesn't follow directly behind him, but she stays in the vicinity. Opie enjoys this sometimes, and sometimes he snaps at c.c., to let her know to keep her distance. Still, they work on the buddy system, keeping within sight of each other.

Opie has an unusual habit that c.c. has also picked up on. After breakfast, Opie waits by the front door to be let out, even though he has his own door at the back of the house. I assume that this was the Standard Operating Procedure at his former home, and has become an ingrained habit since kittenhood. Now c.c. is doing the same thing, even if Opie has already gone out. She'll sit by the front door 'til she's let out, but only after breakfast.

If I'm not up by 7:30 in the a.m., Opie will perch on my chest, inches from my face, 'til I wake up. An eighteen-pound weight on one's chest adversely affects breathing, so awakening becomes a necessity. Lately, c.c. has taken up the practice, but her six pounds are less persuasive. Still, she's learning from her mentor.

And then there's the wildlife. Opie seems to be serving as mentor there also, since the few captures by c.c have been unharmed and delivered to the interior living areas in accord with Opie's actions.

So I've come the realization that c.c. is actually Opie's pet, not ours, and Opie has learned pet care from us, so c.c. is in good hands ... uh, paws.

March 8, 2001
Thursday 12:49 am


Little c.c. has become Opie's mini-me. She emulates practically all of Opie's actions (which is good - Opie is the perfect cat). Which was what I was saying last time. But there is one of Opie's habits that c.c. hasn't quite mastered yet. When Opie brings home a critter, he turns it loose and watches it run around, allowing us the opportunity to retrieve it. But c.c., though she carries her catch carefully, refuses to give it up. She'll parade proudly around the house with it in her mouth. We worry that she'll injure her prey doing this. At first we would chase her and try to get her to let go, but that made matters worse. We tried enticing her with food, but she wasn't interested. But yesterday we found a way.

It was 1:30 in the morning (isn't it always?) and c.c. brought in a pigeon. The Wife was still awake (she had been at work 'til midnight) and alerted me that c.c. had a bird (meaning get up and do something). Being semi-awake, all I could manage was a slow chase of c.c. around the house, muttering variations of "put it down." At one point I had her cornered, but then what? She wasn't gonna let go of that bird. She darted past me and headed for the bedroom. I followed resignedly. When she realized the bedroom offered nothing, she tried darting past me again. I grabbed her tail. If there's anything c.c. let's you know that she doesn't like, it's a tug on her tail. She hissed at me, which isn't possible with a bird in her mouth, so the bird escaped. It fluttered around the room, trying to figure out walls, and finally settled into a corner, thoroughly confused. I locked c.c. in the bathroom. Right above the bird was a window, which I gingerly opened (trying not to spook the cowering pigeon) and removed the screen. I threw a towel over the bird and lifted it to the windowsill. When I opened the towel, the bird didn't hesitate - it disappeared into the night.

There was peace again, and we all retired to the same bed. The cats and the Wife were soon sleeping. It was after 3 am before I managed to do the same.

March 14, 2001
Wednesday 12:49 am


Ten years ago, we took the AutoTrain home from a Florida vacation (that's a train that transports you and your car from Florida to Washington DC - or vice versa - overnight), and that night they were showing a movie on the train called "Narrow Margin" with Gene Hackman and Anne Archer, which took place on a train. We thought that would be cool, but the car in which it was being shown was standing room only., so we passed.

But we rented it when we got home, just to sort of extend the vacation. Reading the packaging, we learned that it was a remake of a 1950's film noir "B" movie of the same name, considered to be one of the best "B" movies ever made. I'm a film noir fan, and I was surprised that I'd never heard of it before. I consulted the video-availability books and learned that it was out on tape, but I had no idea how to find it. It was an RKO film, and they'd been outa business for quite a while. The local video emporium couldn't find it with their sources, and I didn't pursue it any further.

A few weeks ago it appeared on eBay in three separate auctions. I was outbid on the first at the last second (almost literally), and I fell asleep before the bidding ended on the second and was outbid there. But I got the third. And I received it Friday and finally got to see it. And it was worth the effort. See it, if you get the chance :)

Also recently, I had the movie "Trees Lounge" recommended to me (hi, Amanda!). I'd never heard of it. Neither had the local video stores. Yet it was a four-star movie (outa five). Here we go again. So back to eBay. I found it, I bid on it, I got it.

Didn't quite take ten years this time.

March 21, 2001
Wednesday 12:21 am


Okay, it happened like this:

1. Scanned bunches of pictures Saturday. It was a slow process and the hard drive kept running - a sure sign more memory is needed. But the memory is maxed out at 64Mb (it's old).

2. Had breakfast at sis-in-law's. They just got a 933 MHz machine, and I had to experience it; it was such a pleasure not having to wait for the hard drive to dance around.

3. Back home that afternoon, visited Dell's website (I have a Dell; the Wife has Gateway). Configured a 933 MHz machine with the bare necessities (so I could use the current monitor, dvd-rom, cd writer, etc.) and found it to be only $1,050. Not bad.

4. Of course this week only, Dell is offering free shipping, your choice of scanner, printer or digital camera, plus one year of internet service, plus a software bundle.

5. I succumbed. I pulled out my overburdened credit card and in minutes I was the proud owner of a Dell Dimension 4100. Minutes later, buyer's remorse set in. But I just couldn't take that constantly running hard drive. So it'll take me a little longer to get outa debt, but I'll be up to date, computerwise.

That was Sunday. By Monday the new computer was on a UPS truck bound for my workplace. I should have it by Friday, at the latest.

It was all too easy. Now I hafta pay for it. As they say, just do it :)

March 27, 2001
Tuesday 1:21 am


It snowed again. I was ready for spring, and it snowed. Again. I usually like snow, but this year was a bit excessive. And here it is again. Again. But it had mostly vanished by evening, although it's unseasonably cold.

I wasn't the only one ill-prepared. On my morning walk (taken despite rain, sleet or snow), I encountered numerous ticked-off Robins who also were not thrilled with the latest inclemency. And that daffodil that sprouted early and alone seems to have the will to endure, so I assisted by shaking off the white stuff. It had a full day of sun, but it's going to be a bit chilly for a coupla days.

Of course the cats don't care. They go out, run around, then come back in and sleep. I had to go to work.

April 2, 2001
Tuesday 1:21 am


It started innocently enough. All our cars are getting old, and we're planning at least one new car next year (that's when the mortgage will be paid off and we'll have some more disposable income). So I went to Ford's website and checked out the new Rangers. I've been driving Rangers for the past sixteen years with no complaints, and I liked what I saw with the new models. So I calculated what I could afford, and discovered that the purchase would not be severely painful. I didn't like the selection of colors too much, and the interior choices were two (gray or tan).

I even located Ford's wholesale cost to the dealer, along with current discount and finance incentives. I was ready to buy. Except that is next year, and all prices, incentives and financing are subject to inevitable change. And I'm still way in debt, and the house isn't paid for 'til February.

But I did get one thing out of this exercise. I discovered that if I begin putting money that is equivalent the car loan payments toward the credit card debt, it will almost be paid off by car-buying time. That won't be that easy, since we will still have the mortgage payment 'til then, but it will be that much less painful when the mortgage is finally paid off.

Well, it's a plan. More than a new car, more than a paid-off mortgage, I want to be outa debt. And I will be at this time next year. Just see if I'm not!

April 9, 2001
Monday 12:11 am


When you're ten years old, a year is ten percent of your entire life. When you're ... my age, a year is a drop in the bucket. And the drops get perceptively smaller as time progresses. Most of my nieces and nephews are driving now. Nieces and nephews are supposed to be these short people with an innocent view of the world who drive nothing more than pedal cars or bicycles. And yet they are turning into adults all around me. And quickly.

I already have a married niece with three kids (grandnieces and grandnephews). I have another niece getting married in two months (more grandnieces and/or grandnephews).

Life is backwards. We should be born old and feeble and grow younger, living out our final years in increasing good health. I don't like growing older. But considering the alternative, I accept the fact graciously. Humans, existing in the wild, without benefit of medical science, would have a life expectancy of 35 years -- just long enough to reproduce and rear sufficient offspring to maintain the population. Such is the determination of longevity in all living creatures. Nature has a plan; not a very compassionate one, but a plan nonetheless.

So here I am, long past nature's planned 35 years and griping about it. My viewpoint has always been to see the bright side, the silver lining. To count my blessings, light a candle and smell the roses (metaphorically - I'm allergic to roses). But once in a while reality intrudes.

So this is my outlet for confronting reality. It is only temporary, and I shall be returning to the bright side next time.

Life is not a gift; it is a loan with a nasty final balloon payment. Thank you.

April 15, 2001
Easter Sunday 12:12 am


Happy Easter, Christians. And virtual chocolate to all others.

Friday was for optimists and cynics alike. It was Good Friday and it was Friday the 13th. For c.c. it was Friday the 13th. The Wife returned home late (usual on a Friday night), and c.c. was outdoors and came running to greet her, but elected to remain outdoors (also usual for her) when the Wife came in. An hour later, she came hobbling up the stairs on three legs (c.c., not the Wife). She wouldn't let us touch the fourth leg, so the Husband carefully cradled her while the Wife poured Peroxide on an apparent wound. We placed her on the bed, where she remained all night.

Saturday morning the leg appeared to be more swollen, and she couldn't put any weight on it at all (the night before she just limped on it). So we called the vet, hoping they were open in the middle of a holiday weekend, and they were, and they said bring her in.

A full examination revealed a total of three puncture wounds in various places, the most serious being the left front leg. The vet prescribed a liquid antibiotic (banana flavored) and advised us to keep an eye on it. The swelling should begin to go down. If it hadn't by Tuesday, or if it got worse, there would possibly be an abcess, and we would have to bring her back to have it drained.

She seemed to be in better spirits in the afternoon, and even ventured outside, still limping, to face the world undaunted by last night's encounter.

And by coincidence, Opie's annual check-up is scheduled for this week. So if c.c. has to go back because of infection, there's gonna be lots of vet visits coming up. And a coupla aggravated felines (who do know deep down it's for their own good).

April 21, 2001
Saturday 12:09 am

Ah, spring! This is the start of a beautiful weekend (well, it's s'posed to be, anyway). Time to de-winterize the truck. Last fall, I put the hardtop back on and added the fiberglass cap. The cap was a mistake. The added weight cracked the acrylic plastic I had used to form the rear fenders. And there was some additional damage to the doors that was inevitable while running the repair/state inspection gauntlet. So all winter I've been looking forward to patching the cracks and getting it back to its original uniqueness. And having it as a convertible again is a plus.

This summer I broke down and bought a soft top for it (to replace the dangerous, leaky homemade plastic top). Not the soft top made to fit the conversion (that would be too easy); no, I purchased a replacement convertible top for a '55 Chevy. The measurements are the same (almost); so I just have to make a few adjustments. I hope that's all. It's on order; I anxiously await its arrival.

The conversion soft top was $459 - the '55 Chevy top was $167, on sale. And, it's a new challenge.

This is the last full summer for the ol' truck. Once I get the cracks patched and the new top in place, I'm just going to enjoy the sunny top-down days (and hearing "Hey, what is that?") and then I'm selling it next year before I have to go through the inspection hassle again (took six weeks and $750 before the state said okay last year, and I still have minor repairs to make). I'm missing it already. But it was fun and challenging and I learned a lot.

I have a Triumph TR-6 that's been sitting in the garage for sixteen years awaiting a master cylinder; perhaps it's time it received some attention. Y'think?

April 27, 2001
Friday 12:12 am

Ah, spring! No matter how many springtimes you have under your belt, those first really nice days are always new and renewing. Which makes the otherwise annoying attendant chores almost a breath of ... spring.

Specifically, lawn mowing, which will get to be a really aggravating necessity as the summer progresses (and the allergies take hold), and as a precursor, there is the mandatory springtime lawn mower tune-up. It's a relatively simple thing, and, as such, relatively easy to put off. Until that first really nice spring day, when the joy of nature's renewal meets last year's dirty oil and fouled spark plug.

Needless to say, I had to go out and buy the necessary parts for this internally-combusted rite of spring (spark plug, oil, air cleaner), all of which have particular specifications and/or part numbers listed in an owner's manual that has to be hunted down and scanned for the correct information each spring. These parts are available through my neighborhood Sears store (which doesn't mean they are necessarily in stock, especially since I'm usually about a week behind my yard-conscientious fellow suburbanites who have depleted the inventories just ahead of me). This year I lucked out (odd numbered years are usually more beneficial for reasons unknown), and I found the parts I needed. I had the springtime maintenance complete before a single pollen spore found its way up my nose.

And the mower is now ready for another summer of cutting. I wish I was.

May 3, 2001
Thursday 12:22 am

Tuesday night I delivered the Wife to the Philadelphia Airport to begin her 3-day distraction in Las Vegas. I'd been caught up in her enthusiasm for getting away to the big electric oasis, so I was an active participant when it came time to depart. We all went out to dinner first, then the one-hour (normally) drive to the airport (this is construction season, and I had not sufficiently investigated the route prior to setting out, so we encountered delays).

We left early because the construction mania had spread to the airport itself, and familiar landmarks and traffic patterns had been totally altered, hidden or eliminated entirely. At one point a temporary road crossed over a large mound and through the structural skeleton of a future parking garage. It was like some surreal roller coaster. We had to drive slowly through the narrow, winding route (the flight was via National Airlines, which does not have a large presence in Philadelphia, and paying strict attention to the signs was mandatory if we didn't want to spend eternity driving around the Philadelphia Airport).

At one point we ended up back on the main highway and had to re-enter the airport complex farther south and begin our odyssey anew. But surprisingly we ended up at the tiny construction-bound National Airlines terminal with time to spare. We hauled luggage, acquired tickets, etc. -- all the trappings of going on vacation. Except they got on the plane and I didn't.

I got back in the Bronco and went home to dirty dishes, hungry cats and due bills.

Have fun, Wife.

May 10, 2001
Thursday 12:22 am

We had a major heat wave last week, to welcome us to the uncomfortable aspects of summer. With Jersey humidity and temperatures in the 90's for a coupla days, we decided it was indeed time to fire up the air conditioner and officially begin the sweaty season.

The AC ran all evening, and things did cool off a bit, but that was because the outdoor temperatures had dropped accordingly. We were surprised to discover that it was cooler outside than in. Of course this meant that the air conditioner was not doing its job.

We had the same problem a few years ago, and the Wife had a friend at work who serviced air conditioning as a sideline, and he looked at it and "charged" the system (added Freon) and concluded that we had a tiny leak in the system and that this may happen again. We thanked him and forgot about it. Until last week, that is. We are hoping that the same simple procedure will solve the problem again this time. But the AC is seventeen years old. We don't want to hear "you're gonna need a whole new system." We're trying to clear debts so we can buy new cars next year. A coupla thousand dollars for a new air conditioning system would be ill-advised right now.

The Wife was in Las Vegas during the worst of the heat (I stayed close to one of three fans at home -- Opie and c.c. chose to sleep outside those nights, 'cause it was cooler out there),

The same thing happened at work. The air conditioner was put into action and it balked. So I had no air conditioning at work either. They promised to have it fixed by today, which they did, after temperatures descended to a more normal range this week.

So now that things are cool and comfy again, we have slipped into indifference and put the thought of AC repair bills out of our heads.

It could be a long, hot summer.

May 15, 2001
Tuesday 1:15 am

We have had some beautiful weather recently - cool and comfortable - that lulls us into a false sense of security regarding the non-functional air conditioning. We are not going to be granted much more of a grace period, I'm sure. It's just that the quarterly car insurance payment is due this month (and NJ has the highest auto insurance rates in the solar system), so it's not a good time to rack up AC repair bills. A decision to be regretted further down the road, I'm sure.

The AC at work is still not functional either. We use large, noisy fans to stay cool. But it's not too bad. Yet. And the AC in the truck hasn't worked in ten years. I'm destined for discomfort.

Opie and c.c. are spending a lotta time outdoors, mostly because of the nice weather, partly because it's cooler than inside. Today cooled off considerably, and c.c. is curled up on the couch, enjoying the cross ventilation that enters through the living room window and exits out through the sliding glass door onto the deck (where Opie is stretched out to his full 3-foot plus [one meter] length). This is the first time c.c. has spent any length of time in the house in days. I'm settled next to her, enjoying the same cross-ventilation and composing this elegant stream-of-consciousness on my $300 laptop that I purchased on e-bay.

It's just one of those days when that seems to be the most appropriate plan of action, y'know?

May 21, 2001
Monday 12:15 am

Four years ago, I cut the roof off my truck to make it a convertible. I had to remove most of the interior to do this. And that included the rear speakers. When all was reassembled, I figured I'd put the rear speakers in later; the front speakers were sufficing just fine.

So this weekend, after four years, I decided it was time to reinstall the rear speakers (I was looking for something productive to do that didn't require a lot of exertion). It was a cool day with a slight overcast. I collected the necessary tools and parts and discovered that the speaker grilles were not where I thought I had put them four years ago. A lengthy search of a rather cluttered garage located them just inches from where I thought I had put them (behind a box instead of in front of it). The new location for the speakers required longer screws than the originals, and that also turned into a search of unexpected duration (I have thousands of screws neatly sorted in plastic organizers, none longer than two inches), but I did eventually acquire the necessary screws.

By now the sun had come out, the temperature had risen several degrees and the humidity had taken whatever steps were necessary to make things uncomfortable. But I was ready to tackle this project of minimal exertion. I hadn't considered the degree of contortion necessary to cram oneself into the space behind the seat while allowing room for the operation of power tools, nor the degree to which my ability to achieve such contortions had diminished with age.

So the weekend project of minimal exertion evolved into backaches, leg cramps and profound fatigue. But the speakers are in, and I had apparently forgotten how much they improved the total depth of the sound. So it was worth the aggravation, aches and annoyances. And I slept very well Saturday night.

The guy is coming to look at our air conditioning unit tonight, and our emotions are mixed. We'll probably have AC again, just in time for the hot weather, but we'll probably have to put down a sum of cash equivalent to just slightly beyond what we can presently afford. What must be must be.

May 27, 2001
Sunday 12:11 am

Last year on Memorial Day weekend we were on a train traveling 600 miles through unspoiled Alaska wilderness. It was sunny and spectacular.

This year we got rain. Lots of it. This weekend is predicted to be a washout. So while waiting for the rain to subside, I paid bills. That was exciting. The rain continued.

The Wife went out shopping for a new digital cell phone with unlimited long distance, call waiting and scads of free minutes for less than her analog phone was costing now. A good deal. I hardly ever use my cell phone, so I had no compelling urge to change. The rain continued.

While she was out, the cats and I took a nap. The cats had staked out separate windowsills (while the rain was heavy, there was no wind, so we had the windows open enough to keep the animals happy). They enjoyed being able to watch the rain come down without actually getting wet. The rain continued.

If you weren't into basketball, golf, NASCAR or bad martial arts movies, tv sucked. The rain continued.

We have new neighbors moving themselves (via Ryder Truck Rental) in across the street; I'll bet they're glad they picked today. The rain continued.

Bored silly, I began doing laundry. Fortunately, there was plenty. So I spent the evening fluffing and folding. It's after midnight and I've still got one more load. And yes, it's still raining.

June 3, 2001
Sunday 6:52 am

Last fall, on our anniversary, we decided to take a day trip to Sleepy Hollow, on the Hudson River in NY. It was a two-hour drive each way, and we toured a working farm and grain mill, and Washington Irving's home. We had dinner and came home. It was lots of fun and pretty cheap for a vacation-like experience.

So this year when the Wife asked if I wanted to do anything special on my birthday, I suggested a day trip to Stockbridge MA to see the Norman Rockwell Museum. I thought it would be reminiscent of the Sleepy Hollow trip.

But Stockbridge is four hours away. Doable, but that's eight hours of driving in one day, plus sightseeing. So we decided to overnight it. We consulted the magical worldwide web for lodgings and other attractions in the area. About 60 miles east is the home of the Yankee Candles (which the Wife collects), which coincidently has an antique car museum attached. Something for everybody.

But we couldn't do both with just an overnight stay, so we considered making it a 3-day weekend trip. This now meant getting our favorite cat person on short notice to feed the felines over the weekend.

Stockbridge has a bazillion (give or take) Bed and Breakfasts that are very period-oriented, dating back hundreds of years, and quite expensive (up to $200/night). But midway between Norman Rockwell and the Candles is Springfield MA, with cheaper accommodations.

So what began as a day trip to Stockbridge costing only gas, dinner and museum admission turned into a 3-day weekend in Springfield costing lodging, a half-dozen restaurant meals, museum admissions and gas, and a lots of driving. Avoiding the lots of driving was the reason for overnighting it in the first place.

So we're back to Plan A. Okay, Plan A and a half. A leisurely drive to Stockbridge, stay one night, awe at the works of Norman Rockwell, have dinner, go home. The Yankee Candles will be another weekend trip, perhaps the fall anniversary event.

We'll have fun if it kills us.

June 9, 2001
Saturday early am

My brother's youngest daughter is getting married this afternoon. The Wife and I had only been dating a few months when she was born, which says a lot about the passage of time.

I've been having sneezing fits for the past 24 hours (it's that time of year); some of aggravating duration. Anything that requires that much effort on an involuntary basis should come with free energy to support it, y'know? After a few extended sneezings, I'm exhausted.

So my options for this wedding are as follows:

Do I dose up on antihistamines, only to have to be propped up by the Wife throughout the reception when pernicious drowsiness sets in, or worse, to be left napping in a corner?

Or do I suffer through it all, awake and unmedicated, to disrupt proceedings with multiple vigorous achoos, probably at the most inopportune moments ("... if anyone knows why these two should not be joined ...").

If I have to go to other choices, things are gonna get weird. I can try breathing through a wet paper towel concealed in my hand and hope no one will notice. And wet tea bags on the eyes keep them from watering and itching. Yeah, no one's gonna notice that. So I guess I'll take the pills along in case they're necessary to survive the pollen count, while hoping that the worst is over.

On the plus side, it's all indoors in air conditioning, including the drive there (it's an hour away, so we'll also get in a couple more hours of the Harry Potter story on cd that we were listening to on the way to and from New England last weekend).

And tomorrow one of the Wife's godchildren is having her high school graduation party, and the Wife's oldest nephew graduates from high school next Friday. This growing up thing is happening too fast. I didn't grow up this fast - it was a long, grueling process. I remember it distinctly.

June 15, 2001
Friday after midnight

Opie's apparently been feeling his oats. He's brought home three critters in as many days. Yesterday would have been the fourth day, but it passed critterless, so we have assumed that he's put his hunting instincts aside for a while and returned to his domestic endeavors (i.e., napping in the comfort of air conditioning).

The air conditioner guy returned, as promised, the give our AC a full charge of Freon, and everything is working as expected now. And just in time - we're having one of those muggy heat waves that makes just breathing uncomfortable.

There's a few more pounds on c.c. than when we first brought her home. She's not quite half Opie's weight now. She still thinks she's a kitten, of course, and gets into everything that triggers her curiosity. She is a fearless explorer - just fearless enough for us to want to keep an eye on her.

I got home from work a few days ago and spotted c.c. in the creek bed across the road, and I squatted down and called her. When she saw me, her tail went up, and she came running at full gallop. I realized this was probably not a good idea, as she was going to be hitting full speed as she darted into the street, and I listened carefully for cars I couldn't see. I heard none, but I was still a bit nervous. To my surprise, when she got to the street, she actually looked both ways (she never slowed down, but she did look).

So she's not the totally fearless kitten after all. We do have some pretty smart felines.

June 27, 2001
Wednesday, very early a.m.

As my Dear Ol' Daddy used to say, "You can never go wrong buying the best." Which is why, two years ago, when we were both considering buying digital cameras, that we decided to pool our efforts and go for a top of the line camera. Just which top of the line camera was the subject of some debate, but we eventually agreed on the Olympus 2000. It did everything our best film cameras did, it was compact, and it was easy to use. And it was $1000. Of course we found it online for $800, but then we quickly spent the difference on SmartMedia cards, NiMh batteries, two chargers, a floppy disc adapter for the SmartMedia card, and a nice little case.

But we had an excellent, very professional camera, which traveled with us around Virginia and Alaska, not to mention numerous birthday parties.

.A few months ago, the mode selector dial stopped clicking into each mode. It still rotated and selected each mode, but there was no longer any detent to hold it in place - the selector just turned loosely. But everything still worked, so we muttered something about how we should probably get that looked at and continued using it. Until a coupla weeks ago, when just turning on the camera became a challenge. Sometimes it would come on, sometimes not. And sometimes it would come on, just to turn itself off again.

We suddenly realized that we were without a digital camera (I still had my cheapie Intel no-frills digi-cam that is responsible for the "Today" pictures, but that's like having an InstaMatic to substitute for your Nikon), so we hustled it off to Olympus's official digicam repair facility on Long Island, and as of this date, are awaiting the official repair quote. You will be advised at the earliest opportunity.

We get ourselves stressed from the funkiest sources, don't we?.

July 2, 2001
Monday, in the wee wee hours

I finally got my birthday party yesterday, almost a month late, but when is not important - it's just an excuse to have the standard party, but it's my turn to receive the gifts. And they were as predicted, because everybody knows what I want - gift certificates. So now I've got bucks to spend as I choose at the local electronic gadget superstore and Home Depot. And my clever nephews got me three huge flashlights because at some point I had mentioned that I didn't have a working flashlight.

But a tradition ended with this celebration. My birthday, my father's birthday and my sister's two kids' birthdays all fell within two weeks of each other. The first year we were married, the Wife decided to have a big party for all four honorees and invite my family (from outa state) and her family to a pool party at the home of her sister-with-the-inground-pool. It was like Christmas with all the presents to open, with the added perk of swimtime. The only time I got to see my family together on a regular basis was Thanksgiving and Christmas, so this was a nice mid-year reunion. It was a major success and was repeated every year thereafter.

My father died several years ago, but the tradition continued. At the beginning, the niece and nephew were four and seven. Now the youngest is in college and the oldest is a high school teacher, and they have their own lives to demand their time. So even though the party was still in their honor, they were no-shows (with profound apologies) for the past two years.

This year my brother's daughter got married in the midst of the two-week birthday window, so all attention was hers, as it should be. The Wife's nephew's graduation from high school demanded all remaining resources.

Which is why I celebrated my birthday quietly in July this year, following the more typical celebration format to which we have become accustomed. A tradition ends.

But I still got all my gift certificates.

July 27, 2001
Friday, 12:57 am

Have you ever experienced the sinking feeling of discovering that your wallet is missing? I reached for same yesterday at work and found only an empty pocket. The first order of business was to recall when last I had it. That was yesterday. So it could be at home, at work, or in-between. I didn't go anywhere else, so the options were limited. I searched the truck and anywhere I could think of at work, without luck. So it had to be home.

This was around lunchtime, and it haunted all thoughts. I couldn't even remember what credit cards I had or how much money (although it was pretty certain not to be a whole lot).

Realizing I had no driver's license or any i.d. at all, I was still compelled to drive home and search til I found it (I hadn't been stopped by a cop in years, so what were the odds I'd have any problems). But what if I couldn't find it at home? Do I risk driving back to work and home again? I was already behind at work due to time I took off last week; I couldn't afford any more time off.

And I realized I had no idea what to do about a lost driver's license. Do they issue emergency ones? Do I have to apply in person? How do I get there? Or do I hafta wait weeks for a replacement?

Finding it at home was the only option I could cope with, so I left, arriving home without so much as spotting a constable on patrol.

And there it was, in the middle of the bedroom floor; couldn't have been more obvious with a neon sign flashing "It's here" over top of it.

I looked in it, just to see what was actually there, then headed back to work, greatly relieved.

Now wasn't that a lot better than hearing me complain about work and/or my aching back?

August 2, 2001
Thursday, 12:11 am

Thoughts of a Husband at home in the dark with his Wife in Pittsburgh:

A few years ago I went back to my college alma mater after decades of absence and I was amazed at all the changes. It's nearly 4 times as big, has a graduate school and is now a university. It wasn't my school any more.

Sometimes I feel that way about the human race. I was a part of it once, but it's all changed when I wasn't looking.

There's a huge cry about HMO's making decisions for the doctors, yet no one's griping about the blatant tv commercials hawking prescription drugs to cure all ills, with the admonition "ask your doctor," like it's just a formality.

I was watching a documentary on Abraham and Mary Lincoln on PBS. They were both intelligent people subject to severe depression. Nothing like a Civil War to cheer 'em up.

I was asked by a teenaged poll-taker if I'd be more inclined to attend a new church if it was named Valley Baptist Church or Valley Community Church. I opted for the latter without noting that the degree of inclination would have been too miniscule to measure by any available standard.

Image is all, substance is nothing.

Crappy movies are setting box office records.

1930's - Cole Porter. 1960's - the Beatles. 1990's - N Sync?

Today they arrested a guy for rape and robbery, and he had my name.

But somewhere a person is dedicatedly working to improve life and expand mankind's understanding of the world, and he will be ignored by thousands just trying to survive the day. I hope I'm not one of them.

August 8, 2001
Wednesday, 12:01 am

Five years ago, I let my mind wander a bit regarding the opportunity to purchase a set of fenders for a '56 Ford, and what impact they may possibly have on my aging '88 Ranger pick-up. The mind wandered rather extensively, and the result is the rather unusual truck that I drive daily. It was lots of fun to build, I learned a lot in the process, and it's fun to have people ask "What is that?"

It's been strictly a summer project (four so far), and this summer kinda wraps up all the plans that began with that simple musing five years ago. This summer I'm replacing the plexiglas top (which, due to stresses beyond what was imagined, has cracked and splintered to the point of potential disintegration as I drive down the road) with a conventional folding softtop made for a '55 Chevy. It has taken lots of measurements and trial and error, but it looks like it will be a reality in a few more weeks.

This has all been part of a large master plan, and I will keep it one more year, then sell it. That's the plan, anyway. Last November it faced the rather rigorous New Jersey Vehicle Inspection and failed. It took $750 and a month of shuttling between various automotive specialists until it finally ran the gauntlet successfully (it's 14 years old with 110,000 miles on it - I wasn't expecting simplicity). But it's two years between inspections, so I figured I wouldn't have to worry about that again.

But as I measure and adjust the rigging of the new convertible top and envision its new look, I realize that I'm dealing with something I created in my own head and built with my own hands. It's not going to be easy to let it go. There are lots of Rangers out there with more than 150,000 miles on them (that gives me five more years the way I drive). Do I gird myself for one more inspection that will take me to 2004? If it fails again (odds are that it will), I'll hafta go ahead and get it fixed at whatever cost, then I'll hafta keep it another two years.

The dilemma is that the two of us have four vehicles, none newer that ten years old. Not reliable for long trips. Can we go two more years with geriatric conveyences?

I'm hoping that before the next inspection, some afficiando of odd vehicles we be so enamored of my handiwork that he/she will make me an offer I can't refuse. Then I'll know that the fruits of my labors will be in loving hands, and I can buy a brand new truck that'll make it cross-country if I so choose.

And I can begin musing anew as to what I can make of a new truck over the next few summers.

August 14, 2001
Tuesday, 12:01 am

Opie related the story of the cat who came snooping at 2 am in his last notes. The following is an update:

Two days later I saw the cat along the fringe of the woods in the back yard. I was inside at a window when he began to approach the house. I grabbed my camera to try to get pictures of him, and I parked my butt by the cat door to see if he was going to consider another entry. But he just snooped around curiously. I think he was out introducing himself to the neighborhood felines. I took some pictures through the window, then dared to venture outside. He ran (I guess I didn't leave a favorable impression after chasing him out of our bathroom at 2 am). But I did get some decent photos (which you may have passed on the way in on the current "Today" page.

Be assured there will be further updates.

The CBS Sunday Morning show did a piece on genealogy this weekend, and motivated me to do a little research on my own. I found a couple new genealogy websites, and to my surprise, there was someone researching my family tree. Following a buncha links, I found a website for an old family graveyard that is full of my ancestors. I was amazed (first, that a graveyard has a website, and second, that it's my family!). That was cool.

There was a Sunday b'day party to attend, so I didn't get a chance to explore much, and it was late when I got home, but Monday night had me chasing around through Census figures and other people's websites (there are two other branches of my family that I've never heard of that have genealogy websites), and discovered - surprise #2 - that I may be obliquely related (by marriage) to James K. Polk, 11th President of the United States.

Be assured there will be further updates here too. :)

August 21, 2001
Tuesday am, post-bedtime

A lotta things came together this weekend, in an unexpected, unplanned, coulda been worse sorta way: Our dishwasher is doing a progressively sloppy job. It's a basic no-frills model we got 16 years ago, and it has served us faithfully on a regular basis up until recently, when its reliability factor fell dramatically. And last week the credit card bill arrived with the $216 repair charge for the digital camera.

Saturday we received our tax rebate of $600 from George W. The timing was fortuitous. The amount would seem to cover the camera and the dishwasher.

There's more - c.c. pulled her favorite magic act and made her collar disappear this weekend. It's the second time she's done that this year (yes, the tax rebate will cover a new collar, but that's not the point). Here's the part where it comes together: There is a PetSmart superstore about twenty minutes away, where we get our pet needs met. It's right across the street from an electronics/appliance super store which sells (among other things) dishwashers. And they were having a sale at the time.

There's still more - I had a bunch of birthday gift certificates ($160 worth) for the electronics/appliance store (which also sells computer stuff, camera stuff, dvd's, cd's, stereo, etc.). So the plan was to go on a shopping spree, check out dishwashers (just looking for now) and pick up a collar for c.c. (Opie was due for a new one too).

With no idea what we would be buying, we wandered into the computer section. The Wife remembered that her nephew needed an Ethernet card for his computer (to connect to the 'net at college), so she got one, and she grabbed a coupla printer cartridges. I got a memory card for the cheapie digital camera that came with my computer back in April . We then spent a lotta time looking at the movie selection and ended up with five (Castaway, Thirteen Days, U-571, The Thomas Crown Affair and The Red Planet). The Wife found a DVD rack she liked, and we did some on-the-spot negotiating (I owed her for dinner from a while back, so I bought the rack to pay off my debt). Realizing we'd gone way over the gift certificate amount, we hauled our loot to the checkout, then headed home, pleased with ourselves and our purchases.

On the way home we realized we never looked at the dishwashers. We considered going back, but we didn't. It wasn't 'til we got home that we realized we didn't get c.c.'s new collar either.

We're obviously getting too old for shopping sprees.

August 27, 2001
Monday 12:11am

The new tv season approacheth. I used to get enthused about that. No more. Maybe it's just because I'm out of the demographic loop; they're not writing shows for me any more. I used to be able to predict the success/failure of any new show almost infallibly. I'm still fairly accurate, but my fallibility ratio is climbing.

Two years ago I predicted that West Wing would be a big hit because it was intelligent, well-written and well-acted. I also predicted that Third Watch would not be back for a second season because it was not well-written or intelligent; it was a formula show where the characters just plug into standard plots with an artificial intensity level designed to emulate ER. I still think that, but it's still around. Probably because everything else was so much worse.

This year I checked out the networks' websites for the hype on the newest shows, and without having seen a single show, I only found one that I thought would succeed, that being "Crossing Jordan." The character and the premise are viable; if the writing can keep up, it'll be a biggie.

Everything else sucked. There is nothing original being offered. Rehashes of old sitcoms that have come and gone, and bottom-of-the-barrel "reality" shows. You'd think they'd get the message - originality sells. The biggest hits in the past coupla years have been the shows with the most originality; the biggest flops have been the copycats (hint: copying an original show does not make another original).

The upside to all this is that I won't be watching much tv.

September 2, 2001
Sunday 12:12am

It was a year ago today that we brought c.c. home from her spot in the woods, and it's been a wonderful year, thanks in no small part to Opie, who has not only accepted the little one, but has even taken her under his wing as his own personal pet cat. They get along better than we could have hoped.

As for Sweeper, the breakfast guest, we have drawn no conclusions, except that he seems to like what our cats don't (foodwise). Our next door neighbor (the lady with the 5 cats, a former veterinarian's assistant) seems to think he lives around the corner (our house is on the south side of the woods and another street runs along the east side, with houses backing up to the woods, and Sweeper just may be cutting catty-corner - pardon the expression - through the woods from there and coming out in our backyard). The cat lady opines that he behaves like a kept kitty (shying away from humans as opposed to running away). Also, he will sometimes not show up for a coupla days.

And an observer from cyberspace has suggested that this feline may be being fed a boring, repetitive diet at home, and welcomes appreciably the variety of the cast-off food we've been serving up (thanks Judy).

Whatever Sweeper's story is, for now if he shows up wanting breakfast, there is a meal of leftovers for him.

Happy Anniversary, c.c.

September 8, 2001
Saturday, after midnight

It's hard to believe I made a summer project out of my aging truck that has been going on for five years. It was originally planned as a fun thing to do one summer, then sell it. It was old then and I'm still driving it. But anything worth doing is worth doing well, even if it takes five years.

This year finishes up the original plan. I'm adding a true convertible soft top (instead of the fragile, disintegrating plastic top that currently exists), which was the original plan; the plastic top was an interim measure. More interim than I had realized.

And a bed cover was also part of the original plan, to hide the wooden bed extensions and the junk I transport as a matter of course. That part has been completed. The soft top is a replacement top for a '55 Chevy. It's dimensions matched almost exactly the windshield and cockpit requirements of The Truck. Of course, nothing is quite as it seems. Many adjustments were in order. I had to make many of the parts for the folding top's frame, and I had to assure that once folded, it fit neatly under the bed cover. So far, so good. But the only way I'm going to know how well this works is to go ahead and install the top.

That's today. All the parts are assembled and in readiness. It's kind of a no-turning-back thing. Once I start, I have to finish. I can't drive around with a half-installed top. So I'm reviewing once again the procedures (which I had to create myself) before the big moment. It's not s'posed to rain this weekend, so that will help. So I'm about to go install a top, designed for a 46-year-old car, onto a 13-year-old truck that was never supposed to be a convertible.

I am not conventional and refuse to be so. And I am selling The Truck next summer. Get your bids in early :)

September 14, 2001
Friday, after midnight

The end of a tough week. So to wrap up Opie's notes:

The Wife's brother-in-law is home; he was never in any danger, but it took a while for him to get through New York City.

The friend's brother-in-law had a 10am meeting, so he had breakfast at a restaurant and never actually entered the World Trade Center. But it took him all day to find a working phone to call home.

Judy, the Opie Project's pal who works at the Pentagon, checked in the next day to let us know she was okay.

So now we are free to join the rest of the traumatized country, waiting to see what happens next.

The overwhelming need to do something has manifested itself in flags. All the stores (at least around here) have completely sold out. Everywhere you go, there's a flag fluttering. I arrived at work yesterday to find no less than fourteen flags flying outside the building.

We have a fading flag I put out on holidays, but for some reason I felt compelled to put out my father's flag (he was in the Navy in WWII); it was a 48-star flag that hadn't been exposed to sunlight in 30 years. But then I worried about something happening to it, and I replaced it with its well-worn counterpart when I got home.

It's going to be a long, strange trip before this is over. Hug the person next to you.

September 20, 2001
Thursday, after midnight

Didja ever have one of those days? ...

Of course you did. I wasn't going to make an entry tonight; I was afraid I might injure myself typing.

I had the simple task of installing a program on a PC today. I got it so screwed up I had to reformat the hard drive to salvage the attempt. It involved conflicting drivers and a network program that links Macs and PC's. If there was a wrong path to take, I found it. Each attempt to fix it made it worse. But I did succeed. After backing up hundreds of megabytes of files and reinstalling seven programs and numerous utilities.

On the bright side, the day went by quickly.

The Wife was less fortunate. She was visited by the Nimda Worm virus. It's been writing tens of thousands of e-mail files for two days. They all have the same extension, so they can be located and deleted fairly easily with Find File. But Find Files has a limit of 10,000 finds, and it's way past that. She is not a happy Systems Manager.

Opie and c.c. are fine. How badly can you screw up catnapping?

Better days to all :)

September 26, 2001
Wednesday, 12:23 am

Friday, I broke a tooth; something I do with annoying regularity. My dentist says I have the bite of a bulldog. Of the 22 teeth remaining, 12 are broken teeth that have been capped, ranging from $700-$1000 each. This particular tooth had broken previously and was already capped; it will be rebuilt to fit the existing cap, at the bargain price of $500. That includes a free root canal.

Bargain price or not, a root canal does not inspire eager anticipation. It also requires three return visits to complete. And I calculated that the bill would be arriving in mid-November, at approximately the same time as the auto insurance invoice, both of which coincide with the start of Christmas spending -- er, shopping.

Delving further into complications, I'm in the running for a perfect attendance award at work for the second year in a row - a $125 prize (gift certificates), so I have to make up the time I'll be spending having the nerve canals of a broken tooth reamed out. The kicker is that we're in our slowest time of the year, so I'll be working extra hours doing nothing productive (my hard drive could do with some defragmenting I suppose).

Convertible days are about to end. Fall is upon us, the nights are cooler, and I'll be heading into winter with yet another rebuilt tooth.

October 2, 2001
Tuesday, 12:11 am

It was a miserably cold, rainy day - a good day for root canal surgery.

I've had several of these surgeries; I break teeth on a regular basis, so you might think I'm used to them by now. Yeah, right. Actually, root canal surgery has a bad rap. Based strictly on my own experience, there is no significant pain. The area remains sore and uncomfortable for most of the day. The most unpleasant part is the necessity of multiple novacaine injections, and, depending on the tooth's particular location (the more forward the tooth, the less soft tissue for needles), some of them can be quite painful. But it's only a coupla seconds (that's what I repeat over and over in the waiting room).

The second most uncomfortable aspect involves having your mouth wide open for such an extended period. The jaw muscles end up as sore as the surgical site. But a bucket of Advil and a few ice packs get you through the day.

Of course your appetite says feed me and your mouth says like hell. So even though the anticipation of root canal surgery kills any appetite, eat something first. You'll be glad later on when your stomach is growling and your mouth abhors the thought of anything entering it.

I put in a half day at work, thanks to Advil, but when I got home, I took more and slept for two hours.

After having nothing to eat all day, I had a sugar-free ice cream sandwich, and a piece of Lemonade Stand pie (a soft, frozen concoction that actually felt good on the afflicted area). Considering how little I've had to eat today, I'm amazingly not hungry. A small perk.

The last dose of Advil has worn off and there is only slight discomfort.

And the two straight days of rain have ceased. All is well.

October 8, 2001
Monday, 12:11 am

The weekend saw the installation of a dishwasher and a prelude to war. I don't have much input on the events in Afghanistan, so we'll proceed directly to the dishwasher.

My father-in-law came over about ten a.m. and I had the new dishwasher out of the box, and tools all over the kitchen. He's much more experienced in the ways of plumbing than I, so he took the lead. Removal of the old washer was routine, but we quickly learned that the existing water line would not reach the connection on the new dishwasher, so right away we were off to Home Depot for the appropriate parts (we needed a wire clamp and a compression fitting also) and returned within the hour.

There is a routine to dishwasher installation, and this one offered no surprises. We had it installed and operational by lunch (which was supplied by the wife, sfter we turned the electricity back on). Rather than distress the Wife by leaving the old dishwasher sitting in the middle of the kitchen, we carried it out to the curb, to be carted away with the next trash pick-up (or by trashpickers, whichever comes first). We're not exacly sure if we're supposed to notify the township before leaving major appliances out with the rotting food scraps, but we'll find out tonight (today is the normal weekly trash collection).

So Saturday night we had to wash our first stack of dirty dishes. We were watching tv when the Wife commented "It's quiet, isn't it?" With our old dishwasher we would have to turn up the tv to hear it over the dishwasher. "You mean it's on?" I replied. I had to turn down the tv to verify that the new dishwasher was actually running. This is cool.

If the military retaliation goes as smoothly as the dishwasher installation, it won't be too bad. And as by the absence or presence of the dishwasher by the curb, we'll know more tonight.

October 14, 2001
Sunday, just past midnight

We celebrated our seventeenth anniversary Thursday night. The usual routine for celebrating family anniversaries involves a party on the closest weekend. On the actual day, however, we usually just take ourselves out to dinner, just the two of us. But this year, following the ugliness of September 11, the restaurants got together for something called Dine Out America, where, for one night only, a portion of the proceeds went to help victims in NY and DC. That, of course, was on our anniversary, and it was apparently quite successful, because we couldn't get into our first three choices of restaurants - they were mobbed. Our fourth choice was also mobbed, but not overwhelmingly. So we had our anniversary dinner out with the knowledge that a small portion of the bill was going to a worthy cause.

Last week I found a small puddle of anti-freeze under my truck. This is not good, 'cause kitties like the taste and it's poisonous. I learned that it only leaked when it was hot and under pressure (i.e. after returning home and turning off the engine). So each night I would place an empty milk carton under the suspected leak and hope for the best.

Yesterday I said poo on that and went out and got some non-toxic coolant and flushed out the cooling system. With fresh antifreeze I tightened what was loose and started the engine. There was no sign of the leak. After about fifteen minutes, I declared it repaired and cleaned up. I need to drive it around a bit to confirm that however. Tomorrow.

Last night was the family celebration of our anniversary, and we received monetary gifts (by request) to pay for the mini-vacation we're planning at the end of the month. The kids were their usual rowdy selves, and, after cake, ice cream and Shoebox greeting cards with checks enclosed, the factions split up along gender lines - the guys caught the baseball playoff games and the womenfolk sat at the kitchen table passing around Christmas catalogs and repeating the phrase "Whaddya think of that?"

If the driveway beneath the water pump is dry after the dawn arises, we will celebrate further.

October 20, 2001
Saturday, very morningish

This is the beginning of a very nice weekend. Sunshine, a cool breeze, seventy degrees worth of temperature - summer's last blast. This is usually the final weekend of projects - I tend to hibernate, activity-wise, after this weekend.

So this weekend I plan to bolt down the convertible top on the truck, making it non-retracting until sometime in the spring of 2002. This is the final occurence of "convertible days" this year.

There is also a rust spot on the Bronco's rocker panel that has been commanding my attention all year, but which I have successfully avoided. 'Til now. It should be patched up before the coldness and wetness of a New Jersey winter exacts it level of pain on rusting metal. So sometime today I will be stretched out on the sun-warmed driveway with cutting and sanding tools and a bucket of epoxy. It should be a one-day job, but arriving at that foregone conclusion is usually a jinxed process, which is why weekends have two days. Fortunately, it's s'posed to be warm, breezy and sunny tomorrow too.

Speaking of summer's last blast and jinxes, we're planning a little mini-vacation away from it all next weekend, which means in all likelihood it will be cold and rainy. But who knows? Maybe those "convertible days" aren't done yet. We can hope.

October 26, 2001
Friday, ca. midnight

In a few hours we leave for our last shot at a vacation this year, and true to form, it's unconventional. The catsitter arrives around nine a.m. and we depart for a graveyard on the Chesapeake Bay. The entire cemetery is the final resting place of many of my ancestors, in a little town that had been my family's home from 1654 to the early 1900's. I've never visited the cemetery before, and for some reason I decided it was time. We'll spend a couple hours there, checking names and taking photos, then continue on to the Outer Banks of North Carolina, where the unconventional continues.

About four years ago, while web surfing, I found the website of an unconventional computer geek named Diane. I was trying to learn html and build the future Opie Project site, and she was quite helpful. We continued to exchange thoughts and ideas over the years and became quite close. But we've never actually met. Until tomorrow, that is, when we will rendezvouz somewhere on the Carolina coast to stand face to face for the first time. It's really a very weird sensation to anticipate meeting someone you know so well for the first time. This is going to be a unique experience. We'll all be dining out to celebrate the occasion, but other than that it's going be an as-it-happens occasion.

The Wife is bringing along her laptop, which has been loaded up with all the website stuff so we can keep the site up to date while on the road. Tomorrow should have some cemetery photos (or other en route attractions) on the Today page, and Sunday will likely commemorate the historic meeting of Todd and Diane :)

And I haven't even packed yet.

November 2, 2001
Friday, early a.m.

We had 52 trick 'r treaters, down from 106 last year. The times have changed.

So I met Diane (the woman who helped me create Opie's website while I was struggling to learn html, and with whom I've been sharing e-mails for 4 years without ever meeting) on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. I was concerned about what kind of first impression I was going to make. Should I buy new clothes for the occasion (I never buy clothes; I get them as presents)? Should I wear my contact lenses (they make me look younger; but I haven't worn them in years)? And what do I do with my hair (it spends most of its time in a boring ponytail)?

I opted to be my usual self; which would be what she was expecting: worn jeans, glasses and ponytail. But because my self-conciousness level was heightened, when the Wife asked "Are you planning to make a first impression in those shoes?", it meant a new shoe purchase was in order. We were at an outlet mall at the time, less than two hours from the planned meeting, and I was buying shoes for the occasion.

We found Diane and her boy friend walking on the beach. As it turned out, conversation was easy; we really had known each other for years, so it was all very comfortable. We went out to dinner, and the conversation never faltered. We met again for breakfast in the morning, and by the time they left for home, it was more like time spent with old friends rather than a first meeting. In short, it was definitely cool.

We were returning to the Outer Banks for the first time in nine years. We used to visit every coupla years (we honeymooned there); it was a very nice place to escape to. But sometime in the past decade, civilization encroached on our escape. There are now several malls, a car dealership and a Big K-Mart, none of which would have even been imaginable ten years ago. The whole island used to lock itself up after Labor Day, but not any more. But the Outer Banks (OBX as they are now known) will maintain their charm, despite progress. And we will be returning again.

November 8, 2001
Friday, early a.m.

We have a new governor. I have no idea what that will mean. I do know it means the end of those inane, self-righteous political commercials.

Every year I publish my Election Reform Plan, and will continue to do so 'til somebody pays attention. Here 'tis:

Eliminate political ads entirely (sounds good already, huh?) Billions of wasted dollers saved. The victor would no longer be the richest candidate. Elizabeth Dole could run for president.

Create a central election website (crap.gov) where every candidate for every office from dogcatcher to president posts his platform (the site would be subdivided by federal/state/county, etc.). The candidates can use their page to say whatever they want. At no cost! They can add and/or change their message at any time. And voters would be actively forced to find out about their candidates, rather than be bombarded by them. The week before the election, each candidate would submit his resume to the local papers, so that voters could compare them side-by-side.

You say voters won’t bother to do the research? You think they do now? They tune out those billions of dollars of advertising and stare dumbly at the panel of names in the voting booth, awaiting divine intervention. Is there a benefit to making it easier for the clueless to vote? Did you think the incumbent’s advantage meant they were the best person for the job?

What about people without internet access? Introduce them to the library. The government’s "matching campaign funds" (which would no longer apply) would go to providing terminals at every library strictly for the purpose of accessing crap.gov. Take it further: put a terminal in every post office. Or every shopping mall. Someday we’ll be voting on the ‘net, y’know?

Every position on the voting machine would include a "no confidence" choice. If No Confidence receives the majority of votes, all candidates for that office are eliminated, and a new election for that office would be required. Eliminates the lesser-of-two-evils choice.

Every voting machine should have a keyboard for write-in candidates. Computers could search and count the names, rather than the tedious manual reading and counting . Nobody understands the write-in procedure anyway. And they should.

Tax cuts (every candidate promises 'em) would only go to those who vote.

Election day should be two days long, with results reported after the first day. Dunno if that would help, but it would make it interesting. Kinda like a halftime report.

But I had you after "eliminate political ads entirely," didn’t I?

November 14, 2001
Wednesday, in the early morning hours

Didja ever fall asleep when you hadn't planned to? Didn't even necessarily want to? Like when you're watching tv and suddenly the Late Show is on, your spouse has gone to bed and the cats want a midnight snack before their nocturnal prowls. And your mouth taste like used socks?

Good morning.

So I fed the cats and they're out doing their thing and its dark and quiet and my sinuses are clogged clear out to my ears. Ideal conditions to reflect on man's eternal struggle with existence. Does that sum it all up, or what? Just the simple act of being is an exercise in futility. And yet every day we go forth to do battle one more time.

Twelve years ago I was diagnosed with diabetes. Not too bad - could be controlled entirely by diet. Hey, I could handle that. Lost thirty pounds the first year. Gained twenty back the following year. So I was given a daily pill to control things. Hey, I could handle that, a pill a day. That was okay. Then it was two pills. Then double the dosage. Then daily exercising to burn sugar. Hey, I could handle all that, a coupla pills and a one-mile walk every day. Then it was two miles.

Last week I began insulin injections. Stabbing myself with a needle twice daily, glucose level readings thrice daily, plus pills and two-mile walks.

Hey, I can handle that.

I always have ;)

November 20, 2001
Tuesday, early

Saw the Harry Potter movie this weekend. Friday night, to be specific; it's premier date in the U.S. There were eleven of us (8 adults, 3 kids) and it promised to be chaotic. The tickets went on sale weeks before, and all the ticket holders (us included) showed up a half-hour early or more for the good seats. The theater was ill-equipped for the early crowd and left people milling around, blocking exits, and forming lines to get in the theater that wound everywhere. But when the time came, we all entered without chaos, and we even found eleven seats together with a decent view.

Turns out it wasn't even a sell-out. About 10% of the seats were empty. There were lots of little kids, but they remained well-behaved throughout the movie. My 10-year-old nephew (whose idea it was to have this opening-night theater party) would point out whenever the movie deviated from the book, or left out whole passages entirely.

To find fault with the movie would be nit-picking. These were 10-12-year-old virtually unknown kid actors in the biggest movie of the century (so far), supported by some of the great actors of the time. No pressure there. They did admirably. It was a fun movie, highly recommended.

Then ...

Saw the Leonid Meteor Shower at its peak (4-6 am Sunday). There are two regularly scheduled meteor showers to regale us every year - The Perseids in August and the Leonids in November. Both occur when the Earth travels through space debris (trails from a comet) and the debris (tiny stuff) comes whizzing through the atmosphere and burns brightly from the friction. The Perseids usually outdo the Leonids, but not this year.

Normally, a meteor shower produces a decent meteor every 15 minutes or so. This time they were every 15 seconds. Or better. Some would be short and brilliant streaks, others would travel clear across the sky. Sometimes there would be a lull in the activity, to be followed by a burst of streaks everywhere. In non-cosmic parlance, it was cool. Nature was not to be outdone by the Harry Potter phenomenon.

And it was free.

November 26, 2001
Monday, ugly Monday

It's Monday again, and we're wrapping up Part II of my second root canal of this quarter. Today mostly involves a rebuilding process to accept a replacement bridge, the original of which broke less than a year after being fitted. Which means I get a new bridge at no charge. Seems there's a warranty on these things. Twelve months or 12,000 chomps. Or something. Which is fortunate, because I've reached the point where I can no longer afford to have teeth.

It's just after midnight, and the cats are mad at me because I won't stop the rain. They're ready for a night out in the wild, but not so wild as to get wet. So they'll probably spend the night at the foot of the bed. They've been doing more of that lately as the nights got colder. But today the temperatures were summer-like - in the 70's F. Even after midnight, it's still shirt-sleeve temperatures (albeit wet shirt sleeves).

We celebrated my sister-in-law's 50th birthday Sunday night, which doesn't actually occur 'til next week, but she'll be in Denver then. Everybody gorged themselves with strawberry shortcake and ice cream. Except me. I had sugar-free pudding.

We signed up for a DSL line this weekend. There's a promotion providing a free DSL modem and a webcam if we commit to a year's service. The Wife and I have separate dial-up accounts now and two extra phone lines to accommodate both of us. With DSL we need only one phone line and one account, so it ends up being the same cost to switch over. We will have a one-time expense to network our computers together, but that'll be fun by itself. Ultimately we'll need to switch from the ISP that is currently hosting the Opie Project (that contract ends next June) to the DSL's space, but if all goes smoothly, you'll never notice the switch. We'll hope.

For the past several minutes, c.c. had been sitting on the windowsill using her patented night vision to observe the rain. She just bolted outa here, so the rain musta stopped.

December 2, 2001
Sunday, warm and humid

The birds are chirping, the bees are buzzing; Christmas is in the air. This is getting ridiculous. The temperature just made it to 70 degrees Farenheight Saturday. A balmy summer day. I had to run to the supermarket that morning and passed a display of flocked wreaths and holly sprigs and other Christmas decorations. I was wearing a t-shirt and perspiring. The P.A. system was playing Christmas tunes, specifically "Let it Snow ..." while I was standing in the blast from the air conditioner. And the weirdest part is that this is going to stay like this for another week, at least. This is not helping me get the Christmas spirit going. So now I know how Christmas feels in Southern California.

One does not Christmas shop in shorts. I hafta be bundled up against a bitter wind to actually shop for gifts. Anything else is unreal. And climbing up and down ladders on a hot day with Christmas decorations lacks a certain dedication. Wrestling a six-foot styrofoam snowman into place while your palms sweat is not Christmas spirit. It's just a plastic snowman, and you're the one who's melting.

I don't believe in Christmas decorations more than two or three weeks before Christmas anyway. But some people get so elaborate with their decorations that they hafta start on Thanksgiving weekend to make the multi-colored Santa and elves a distinctive display within the Christmas diorama.

So while the rest of New Jersey sweats it out today doing holiday shopping and Griswalding their homes with lights, I'll be putting together our home computer network in preparation for our pending DSL service (which commences two or three weeks before Christmas). I will have an electric fan nearby.

Seasonal salutations.

December 9, 2001
Sunday, 12:11 a.m.

Makin' progress in the general direction of Christmas. Saturday we went out and got a tree. It was supposed to rain all day today, starting at noon, and we planned to set out early in pursuit of that perfect tree and return home with same before the first rivulet of precipitation. However, neither of us would fit the classic description of a "morning person." I managed to get up first (the Wife had to go into work and didn't return 'til 2 a.m.) and let the Wife sleep. I made a quick trip to Sears for new lights to string around the exterior features of the house, and she was up when I returned, though not very awake.

To make a boring story short, we headed out tree-shopping around 11:30, just as the first sprinkles of inclemency began to fall. Fortunately, the perfect tree was waiting at our first stop, and we were back home in less than an hour. And after some judicious pruning (to fit the tree stand) is was upright, albeit naked, in the living room before the next hour had passed.

By then it was raining rather intensely, and I had decorations to be placed. I was up and down the extension ladder during whatever brief lulls in the wetness afforded themselves. It was kinda sporadic, but the exterior decorations were completed before dark.

Back in the living room, the Wife was placing the myriad of Christmas bric-a-brac that she had collected over the years in every available spot in the house. Aside from my outdoor creativity, I am also responsible for putting the lights on the tree. So after an afternoon on an extension ladder in the rain, early evening consisted of climbing up on and down from a chair while stretching uncomfortably over the tree, getting each individual bulb into its aesthetically proper position.

Today the Wife will spend the entire day placing thousands of ornaments on the tree, while I will be spending the entire day making the rounds of the retail establishments.

My back is killing me.

We went out to dinner to celebrate progress.

 

December 15, 2001
Saturday, 3:01 a.m.

Ten days 'til Christmas, and much yet to do. This weekend we'll tackle the Christmas cards. This is a joint effort, since we each have to sign each card and include a sentiment of some sort. The Wife produces envelopes on the computer in a colorfully addressed seasonal motif. It's usually a whole day process.

The Wife took three days off work for cookie baking, all of which will be given away to friends and acquaintances ('tis the season).

And I, of course, have shopping to complete (the Wife doesn't).

Another chore to complete, not holiday-related, is getting a flea collar onto c.c. She has managed to shed four of them this year (we always use the breakaway collars), and with the disappearance of the last one being in October, we figured the flea season was completed, and avoided wasting money on a new collar. Heh. Yesterday, the Wife found a single flea on c.c. and called me at work. Bring home a flea collar.

Now, I'm not the only one who figured that the flea season was completed. Retail establishments, in their wisdom, stopped stocking flea collars until the spring. I did find flea shampoo (which c.c. would not appreciate) and got that, but made one last try at an obscure pet shop many miles out of my way. They had 'em, complete with the breakaway feature. I got two, just in case (c.c. shed the last one after only a week).

A careful examination of c.c. (she thought it was major attention and loved it) revealed no fleas, but she took off before we could get the collar on her. So tomorrow will be cards and collars.

Have a flea-free weekend.

 

December 21, 2001
Friday, really really early

It's Friday.
It's the last day of work before Christmas.
It's the first day of winter.
It's the shortest day of the year.
And it has some significance to Druids, who have ceased to become significant themselves.

The countdown relentlessly continues, with some shopping and all wrapping remaining. The e-mail is backing up; apologies to all to whom we have not yet responded. The house is awash with boxes, shopping bags and tissue paper. It's a domestic disaster.

We keep buying gifts for the cats and then not waiting for Christmas to give them. Then we think, well, we have to get them something for Christmas day, so we buy something else, then think, well, they have no concept of Christmas tradition, so we give to them, and the cycle begins again.

The most recent of these feline appreciation gifts was a small bag of catnip, which Opie immediately commandeered and entered into a catnip-induced state of euphoria, rolling 'round the kitchen floor.

Today it was c.c.'s turn and, as usual, copied Opie's every move, rolling round the kitchen floor in a euphoric frenzy.

Right now, the small bag of catnip lies under the kitchen table, dormant, awaiting the inevitable curiosity that will bring a cat into its web of maniac feline glee. Which will be fairly soon, I'm sure.

A dollar's worth of catnip is your best entertainment value.

 

December 27, 2001
Thursday, sometime after midnight

Christmas day - open gifts at home, drive to sis-in-law's for brunch, open more gifts, drive to sister's in Pennsylvania, open more gifts, eat dinner, drive home, add up the loot, collapse, go to work next day.

My inventory was as follows:

A jacket embroidered with www.opieproject.com. I am now cool.

A chess set, with the protagonists being cats and dogs (the dog castles are dog houses; the cat castles are cat beds on pedestals).

A Handspring Visor (a pda that runs Palm Pilot software); it's a gadget I didn't yet have, so it was inevitable that I'd end up with one.

The usual jeans, shirts, socks and underwear, that are always welcome and usually desparately needed.

Gift cards (lots of 'em) to electronics stores and book stores, that are like candy waiting to be eaten.

And I got books and dvd's just waiting for the availability of time to enjoy them (this weekend, hopefully)

Nothing to be returned! I'm happy.

Boxes full of other boxes and spent wrapping paper are placed by the curb with care, in hopes that the recycling department soon would be there.

The Wife and the cats will be offering an accounting of their take in the coming days. Have a prospectively happy new year.