Saturday, June 18, 2005

Willy, Part 2

The bike ride to work was fantastic.

Now that 18 hours had passed the ordeal was nearly over. The only thing left was to work a heavy night of freight with half the normal crew.

Willy called work 10 minutes before shift start. From hearing about the conversation 2nd hand, I could only roll my eyes and think "how typical of Willy".

"I'm not coming in tonight. My ride didn't pick me up (my fault again?) and by the time I get there I'll be late. So I guess I quit."

There was some back and forth to it between Willy and the person he talked to. Mostly unimportant.

Funny thing about co-workers. We talk about that days most interesting happenings as we work. So a lot of the other stories concerning Willy and others came out, particularly stories surrounding the previous nights events.

Aparently after exiting the vehicle yesterday after the initial blow-up, Willy joined another co-worker enjoying his break. That co-worker asked what we (myself and a third co-worker) were still doing in my vehicle. "Talking about me," says Willy.

Willy also said to the co-worker that "It's official. This is probably going to be my last night". However, later that morning (in the previous post), Willy told me he'd be ready for work if I were to come by to pick him up.

Willy's not the type to want attention. I wonder why he said that? Of course, he says a lot of shit that seems like he's begging for attention... "There's only one person I can trust in this world, and when they're gone, I don't know what I'm going to do. I've lived 27 years and haven't found anything worth sticking around for". Is that a suicide letter? Or is that Willy's way of baiting a host (a leech reference) to take pity on him?

The supervisor also called him back last night after he quit to give him a chance to take the weekend to perhaps find an alternative means of transportation and to retract his resignation. No dice. Willy doesn't want it so Willy puts no effort into it.

Poor Willy. He likes fast food Mexican over any other nationality of fast food... And the closest restaurant that fits that description is a Taco Bell, probably within walking distance of his house.

Twenty bucks says he ends up there. Fourty bucks says I won't eat there anymore.

I'm not ragging on his mother at all, but how does a person end up like that? I'm suprised he even gets out of bed since that would require opening ones eyes... And for him, what's the point? There's nothing here for you... Why even get out of bed?

You've lived a whole 27 years. You've experienced nothing other than minimum wage jobs, your father being killed by police, the business-end of molestation from a family member, and girl after girl shunning you (not that there's been many attempts by you to try to attract their attention).

Most people by that age have found something they like. Perhaps it's in the form of a hobby, or person, but I guess that's what happens when you a handed the shit-end of the stick of life. What's worse is that it seems every time he goes to reach for the stick of like, he gets more shit on himself.

I used to feel sorry for him. But he's used up all my sympathy and patience. I still understand he probably has it harder than the next guy (nothing that can't be overcome), but that feeling toward him stops at the equivalent of a text-book sample. I'm not involved with it (anymore), so it doesn't effect me.

Good luck with life, Willy. Perhaps if you lowered your expectations, you'd be a happier person. Life is not going to treat you with the respect you think you deserve. This is a democracy. We don't do Kings anymore.

Friday, June 17, 2005

The Out-Of-Whack Thinker gets a Whack

Got into a fight last night with someone at work. This person I consider something in between an acquaintance and a friend (but more toward the acquaintance side).

I helped this person find an apartment when they moved to town.

I helped this person find a job (where I work).

I took this person to their interview.

I took this person to a second interview (wow, big deal... oh yeah? It's an hour round trip).

I took this person to take their drug test after their job offer.

I (on a daily basis) take this person to work 5 nights a week.

I (on a daily basis) have to leave earlier than I normally would need to because of this person.

I (on a daily basis) have to wake up earlier than I normally would need to because of this person.

I sometimes have to forego a pre-work shower if I -can't- get up early enough because of this person.

I get home later than I normally would because of this person.

Because of that, sometimes I don't get to see my wife in the morning because of this person.

When my wife has to use the "second" vehicle when I'm late home, it causes slight rifts in my marriage because of this person.

I help this person move into their new house.

On a daily basis, I attempt to give this person hints and tips for either working smarter, running equipment, etc.

So one day (two months ago) I buy a bike. I am spending almost $300 in gas a week in my Vue. The bike gets 75mpg. With the bike, I'll spend less than half what I already am. So I encourage this person to get a drivers license (27 years old, still living with mom, etc, etc). My idea is that this person can by MY ride when the weather is too crappy for the bike.

I go to the DMV and pick up a Drivers Handbook for this person.

I drop the Drivers Handbook off in this persons mailbox.

We have discussed many many times the fact that it is much more economical to ride the bike than to drive, and that this person -needs- to get a license, even prior to dropping off the handbook.

Three and a half weeks pass since dropping off the handbook (two months have passed since purchasing the bike). I am almost out of patience. It seems as if this person really doesn't want anything in life, or have any goals. I ask if he's ready to take the driving test yet.

"Not yet. I've been looking through the book, though."

"When will you be ready? You realize you are on your second week of a grace period from my last deadline..."

"Well you haven't taught me how to drive a stick. That was part of the deal of me getting a license."

"Oh, so now it's MY fault you don't have a license?"

"Yeah, kinda"

"Why the fuck do you need to learn to drive a stick? You don't even own a car! Your mothers car is automatic! That is like saying that you won't leave college until obtaining three degrees... It's ridiculous, unneccesary, and a waste of time. And did you seriously think you'd be learning stick in one of my vehicles WITHOUT a drivers permit??? So when will you be getting your permit? You realize my patience is not infinite. Maybe you should just start finding your own ride!"

So for the next six hours I stew. By the time the end of the shift comes, I'm so pissed I can't even look at the person sitting next to me in my car as I drive this person home (and barely make it in time to see my wife).

As we pull up to his house, he opens the door.

"So are we still on for tonight?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Picking me up for work."

"I don't know. You really pissed me off last night with your comment about this entire situation being my fault"

"Yeah, I know. That's why I didn't say anything the whole time."

"You know, you have no idea how many things I do for you because you are part of my day. And to hear the attitude you have towards the things I do for you really makes me want to cut you out of my day completely. I'm a nice guy, I do things for people. But when your attitude turns my help into unappreciated charity, that is where I draw the line. I don't do charity. I don't necessarily want a 'thank you' for each and every thing, but I would expect some appreciation in your tone. You should be ashamed that you can't muster a single thread of self-sacrifice for someone and do something on your own, regardless of whether you want to, or if it's convenient or not. Do you realize it wasn't necessarily convenient for my to help you move? I work and 8 hour shift, getting my ass kicked all night. I had service scheduled for my bike in 4 hours, which is the amount of time it took me to drive to do my errands and get to the dealer. I then wait for 3 hours while it's serviced, then drive back home for another 2 hours. Then I come over to help you move. You think I wanted to be there? That's what self-sacrifice is. And you can't even bother your mother to give you a ride to get your written test taken, use her car for the driving portion, or even bother her to bring you and pick you up from work??? You'll impose on me all day long, but won't even ASK your own mother? She's SUPPOSED to do shit like that for you."

"OK. I'll be here ready if you decide to come pick me up. Do you think you will?"

"I don't know. Can't you get a ride from your mother?"

"No. I'm not even going to ask."

"Are you serious? You are willing to just toss all the shit I've helped you attain because you don't want to ask your mother? Alright. I guess we'll find out tonight."

"K. Bye"

I think I'm going to ride my bike to work tonight. I might even take a long lunch to enjoy Wichita @ night.

Do you think I give a shit what happens to someone who doesn't appreciate what they have? Or care enough about something to go get it?

I guess we'll find out tonight.

I'm going to bed. And I'm going to wake up at the time I -used- to.

I hope you find something in life worth working for, Willy.

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Uncharted Water (here there be monsters)

Today I'm rolling out my first Centos server. Centos (at is a free (as in beer) version of Redhat Enterprise
(which is not free, as in beer). I thought I might give it a shot for
one main reason... It is supported a lot longer than the Fedora version
of Linux I've been installing on servers since Redhat pulled their free
products. That equates to an operating system upgrade every 1-5 years
instead of every 6 - 12 months.

I would have liked to already be on my way to finish setting it up, but
I'm fervently drinking my you-gotta-stay-up-later-than-normal coffee
while waiting on the bathroom. Talk about patting your head and rubbing
your stomach at the same time...

I'm also rolling out a new (to me) application for this client. It's
called OpenGroupware ( It has a shared
calendar, web-based email, tasks, contact list, projects, all sorts of
crap. And one thing I especially like about it is that the calendar is
WebDAV compliant (whatever that means). What it -doesn't- mean is that
it's not something bastardized by Microsoft. So either this client can
view the shared (company) calendar via OpenGroupware (web-based), or
they can download a WebDAV compliant calendaring application (like
Mozilla's Sunbird Project ).

This will be (nerd) fun.

Monday, June 13, 2005

Numerology's 8

Oh yeah.. Almost forgot. I've been playing poker almost a week -without- the number 8 on my desktop.

The last couple days have been pretty bad... I think I'm making money maybe one of every five or six tourney's I enter. But the effects seemed to linger a few days after removing the 8... I seemed to still do well.

I suppose more experimentation is in order.

Security, Silicone, and Motorcycle Hair

After 5 years of web and email hosting, I'm finally throwing in the towel... I caught my server (via logs) attempting to portscan other systems. Granted, none of the probes reached their destination due to the firewall in place, but just the fact that someone can manipulate a web-based programming language (my best guess at the security hole) via a web browser (or application acting as a web browser) to make an innocent and harmless system do their bidding is enough for me. Let those with multi-floor buildings and dozens of tech support personnel manning the phones have it. I dont' have the time to keep up with it anymore.

Spent the (rainy) weekend helping out a friend put new turn signals on his Honda CBR 600 RR (at least I -think- it's a Honda, I always seem to pick the wrong brand). Due to a non-flush mounting bracket on his faring, we had to get a little creative w/ silicone to attach the front signals... When I left Saturday, there still needed to be a final, pretty finish job done to them. But I suspect they're at least functional (as far as adhesion).

He let me take his bike out for about a three mile jaunt. Compared to my Buell, this thing is FAST (though I have the slowest Buell known to man).

My wife asked me Sunday if I took his bike out... I guess I had motorcycle hair when I got home :)

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

I Love the 70's

Sunday night we went out riding. Started a little after midnight and rode until the sun came up. The weather was perfect (at least the weather directly above us). I don't think the temperature ever got below 70.

Thunderclouds seemed to chase us throughout the city for the last couple hours. Once home and comfortably situated in front of PokerStars, not five minutes passed before the rain began to fall.

I've been experimenting with a numerology thing (gag, trick, method, whatever your beliefs label it as)... Granted I'm not sure how my implementation works (I'm still experimenting), but the idea is this: Put the number 8 on a piece of paper and put it in your wallet (or purse, sex dependent, of course). Supposedly the number 8, specifically located in a money-holding device is supposed to bring money.

I tried it yesterday once, except with a small twist. On my computer, I opened WordPad, typed a single number 8, made it real big, and the resized the WordPad window to it's smallest extent while still able to see the "8". I then fire up PokerStars and get into a tournament.

I ended up winning the one tournament I tried this with yesterday. As I type, I'm currently in a two-table tourney (yesterdays was a single table tourney). Granted, chip lead doesn't mean everything in poker, but with 5 people out I'm currently 2nd in chips.

Fast forward an hour: I took 2nd in the tourney. From the two experiments so far, I've formulated an initial hypothesis - The "8" won't hand you money at the (electronic) poker table. A player still has to keep their head and make good judgement calls. But it sure seems that I've been hitting a lot more flushes and straights in the last two days than in the near past.

Today is supposed to get up to 95... I think I'll enjoy the bike if I get the chance.

Sunday, June 05, 2005

The Poetically Aguished Irritate Me (which is what they're probably trying to do)

While finishing my McDonalds in the driveway, Coast to Coast AM was on. Something about listening to Mr. Doom and Gloom (Art Bell) and his boundless parade of book-selling guests (which turned me off of coast to coast just after Y2K) makes my mind wander...

I found myself thinking (loathingly) about unhappy people. And how unhappy people make me unhappy. Not because I'm some cheery give-me-a-hug type, but because they piss me off...

It seems that poetic anguish nullifies the part of the brain that controls decency, work ethic, the ability to not be annoying, and probably a few other things.

Poetic anguish can apparently be a magnet, too. Mostly for hate - Racism, Homophobia, Germophobia... you get the point.

Poetic anguish also seems to alter that person's reality. Things become too hard to do (even the simplest tasks). They do things as a "convenience", when in reality they should do them so as not to be an inconvenience.

Poetic anguish clouds the ability to connect two points with the shortest distance... And sometimes will add seemingly infinite tangents that have no apparent connection with either point.

Poetic anguish is bullshit. It's like calling pregnancy a "disability".

I think it's used as a "I haven't accomplished shit in my life for no good reason" excuse...

...and WAY overused.