Uncle Roger's Notebooks of Daily Life
My life is, to me, ripe with frequent challenges, occasional successes, spontaneous laughter, adequate tears, and enough *life* to last me a lifetime. To you, however, it surely seems most pedestrian. And therefore, I recycle the name I used previously and call this my Notebooks of Daily Life. Daily, because it's everyday in nature, ordinary. These conglomeration of events that are my life are of interest to me because I live it, perhaps mildly so to those who are touched by it, and could only be of perverse, morbid curiosity to anyone else. Yet, I offer them here nonetheless. Make of them what you will, and perhaps you can learn from my mistakes.
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Tuesday, January 31, 2006
You know that experiment done by Stanley Milgram in the 1960's that led to the phrase "six degrees of separation?" The idea is that everyone can be linked to everyone else through an average of six people. You know someone who knows someone who knows someone... You get the idea.
First off, here's a summary of how I did on last year's goals.
Rachel and I often use instant messaging to catch up when she gets home from school and while I'm still at work. It's a handy tool and a big help to us. Sometimes, though, the conversations can be, shall we say, unique.
I was walking through the little shopping area where we do our marketing and passed a newstand containing copies of the San Jose Mercury News. There, one of the headlines caught my eye: Gas prices may hit record.
A few steps later and a headline on the front page of the San Francisco Chronicle caught my eye. The headline, above a picture of an oil drilling tower, read: Chevron spouts record profits.
Why doesn't this surprise me?
My brother-in-law, a coworker, and I were chatting and the subject of San Francisco came up. I love San Francisco and while it does have its share of problems, I've yet to find a city I'd rather live in.
Is it just me, or does Susan Tedeschi seem an awful lot like a young Bonnie Raitt?
"'Do you want to come to my house?' 'I would love to come to your house.' That's what I said and Sammy said." -- Jared explaining why we needed to turn around right now and go back to Sammy's house.
Ten years ago, my mother died. That's not so long ago, but an awful lot has changed since then. One of these days I'll be able to write about it, but for now I think the best I can do is acknowledge it.
Tonight, Jared finally went poop in the potty. This is a major achievement for him. Mind you, the poop was barely bigger than a grain of rice, but at least it was a poop. Now, hopefully, he'll keep it up.
I used to see kids on T.V. or in the movies who would lick a flagpole during the winter and get their tongues stuck to it and think that that sort of thing could never happen in real life. Even I, who never saw snow until a teenager, would have figured out that licking a flagpole -- frozen or not -- was a dumb idea. Surely kids who lived in that weather would know better.
And then, the other night, as we were leaving the Jewish Home, I turned around to see Jared, on the front stairs, licking the metal handrail.
So everyday, we gather in the lunchroom after lunch do Isaac Asimov's Superquiz (as published in the San Jose Merc). Friday's quiz was on song titles -- the idea was to provide the word that would complete the song title.
The rule is that Jared can come into our bed only when the sun is up. So this morning, I was pretty much awake anyway when Jared showed up. As is our modus operandi these days, I asked if he had gone pee-pee yet. He said yes, he had already gone in his pull-up. "Okay," I said, sighing. "Let's go change your underwear."
This is De-Lurking week. Well, okay, so I'm late as usual. But it's not too late. If you read this, post a comment. Doesn't have to be witty or wise. Grammatically correct would be nice, but not necessary; this is, after all, a very informal medium. So go ahead and say something.
When I was contracting with Long's, I worked at home a lot. When I became an employee there, part of the agreement was that I would work at home two days a week. (That was, eventually, reneged upon, unfortunately.) My current position allows me one day a week at home, with the possibility of a second after a year (and assuming we're not in the middle of a huge push to get out a new client/server implementation of the software even as we move to a linux-based version.) There are a lot of advantages to working at home that I've come to value highly over the years.
When my father was alive and we were living together, working at home meant I could spend a lot of time with him and could take care of his needs. I would get up early and start working. I'd go downstairs and we have breakfast together. I'd go and work some more before fixing lunch and, perhaps, watch a movie together or play a game. I'd work through the afternoon until it was time to cook dinner and hang out for the evening. Once he was more or less settled in for the night, I'd head back upstairs to finish working if necessary. It was wonderful, and I am forever greatful to the Long's-that-once-was for letting me do that.
These days, I don't have that issue, but working from home still has its benefits. Here are a few of them:
There are probably a lot more advantages, but I suspect that's too much information already.
"My job is to poop in my underwear." -- Jared misreporting his task in regards to potty training
"I'm so sick of having to know everything!" -- Rachel, doing the bills, about which I am clueless.
I called the othorpedic surgeon's office to which I was referred to make an appointment to have my hand checked out. Unfortunately, this seems to be the same office that Jared went to when he broke his arm. They are not known for their punctuality, to put it mildly.
The woman on the phone told me the first available appointment was Friday at 9am. I said okay and she gave me the address. It sounded familiar. So I asked "Is this the office where one of the doctors has pictures of all the ballet dancers?" (One of the doctors treats a lot of the dancers with the SF Ballet.)
She replied "Yes."
So I said, "Ah, then I should take the whole day off."
"Oh, you've been here before then?"
"What planet are you from?" -- Jared, during a discussion of the planets.
"Um, No, that's okay... But thank you for asking!" -- Jared responding as to whether or not he needed to use the potty.
"The total hard drive capacity in your system has decreased. This typically does NOT indicate a hardware failure. Contact your Help Desk if you did not personally change your system's hard-drive configuration or disable devices in System Setup." That's the message I get every time I boot up without the little external, USB hard drive I carry around with my music on it. Then, when I plug it in, I get the opposite message. Oh joy.
"I Love Uranus" -- Jared speaking of one of his favorite planets.