The View From Down Here

Ever fell like you’re living in a TV show?

Yeah, it’s gotten so bad around here, I think Alec Baldwin might be on his way over to eat my brain.

So, I’m working in one of our Excel databases…

Waaahaat? You say? An Excel database? Access? Helloooo? Is the Lemur that pathetic?

Eight days a week, baby! And I made that spreadsheet… err, database…

Anyway, I digress, yes, livin’ life with an Excel Database… I was working in “it” the other day, and I notice that some of the date fields are set to an Armenian date format. I change them. No biggie, right?

Then I all of the words go red squiggly underline. It seems they are not spelled correctly in… hmmm… Armenian.

And… the dates are switched back to the old format. Yes, you guessed it, Armenian… again.

I change everything. Language: US English. Date format: US. Save… close… database chores done. Off to the solid modeling package…

Until, that is, I need to reference the database again… Armenia strikes back... dates changes, language changed. So now I’m hopping about my office, more than a little pissed – obsessing over this problem, and it occurs to me, it’s got to be a joke. Cool… I can handle a joke…

But this has persisted for days now… Armenia has permanently conquered my database and no one will own up to it.

I looked around my office for the tiny cameras… but I can’t find them. They’re just too well hidden. But, I’m on to you… whoever you are…

How will the blog survive?

Wow. It’s been more than a year since I posted. What a year it was…

The joy and pain of this year confound me: I finished law school. My mother got sick with cancer. I have a new baby boy. I changed careers. My mother fought the cancer. I passed the bar exam. Hurricane Ike pummeled my hometown nearly senseless. I changed careers back again. My mother lost her fight with cancer. I named my newborn son after my mom’s father – he will never get to know either of them.

In between all that, the blog got lost. The correct but unfortunate outcome of a busy life.

Now, I too find myself lost in the new year. 2008 left my ship off course – there was simply no time to mind the rudder.

But, I’m still here. So is this blog.

Plans for 2009:
More entries in the Lost Places Index,
More Texacurean entries,
More movie reviews,
More bad haiku/senryu,
Chronicles of the search for The Best Crab Cake in The World (BCCITW),
And, of course, more of the Lemur’s View From Down Here.

(I know this post is a little dated, but it has taken me some time to compose my thoughts on the subject).

Who are your heroes? Do they deserve it?

We’re a little bit over a year from the passing of two of my personal heroes: Steve Irwin and Maynard Ferguson. Odd, you say? Why would these two be among personal heroes? To tell you truth, I’m not exactly sure why I picked them… you might say just because I thought they were interesting. Steve Irwin was a symbol to many and Maynard was a “god” to the trumpet players everywhere. Obvious enough?

No, but it’s more than that. I’ve never been much into hero worship, but I honestly admired these men and that puts them in a very small group of people. So I did some comparison of my fallen heroes:

Steve Irwin was nearly a caricature with his khaki clothes and jungle boots, jumping about on my TV every week to spread information about animals and his conservation mission.

Maynard was an over-the-top blow-hard (heh), who could be a bit garish clothes wise, blasting away with his stratospheric riffs.

They don’t seem much the same do they? But, I’ve found they share a common message. The lessons they taught went way beyond the TV shows they made or the charts they recorded.
First, have fun. Both these guys loved their job with a capital ‘L’.
Second, master your field. Strive to be the best at what you do.
Third, don’t be afraid to be larger than life (this is a hard lesson).
Fourth, maintain your focus and intensity. Shrug off criticism with a smile and keep the dream.
Fifth, teach what you know.

It’s interesting, but the old saw “those who can’t do, teach” didn’t cut it with these two. Both of these men were astounding pedagogs. They not only “did”, but they taught as well. Their legacies will live forever in the minds of their students, and I can’t really think of a better epitaph for either of them.

I'm accepting trade offers for Boy Scout and Order of the Arrow patches.

I'm particualrly interested in flaps with fish or other marine life on them.

OA Flaps I'm looking for:
Older 354 Mayi flaps (not the common Mayi flaps - I mean the old older ones)
Red Borders 335 Ump Quah
Older 168 Kuskitannee
90 Canalino blue water and pre-FDL
Pre-FDL 566 Malibu
257 Agawam (f1 especially desired)
158 Nanepashemet
Anything else with a fish or sea life on it that I don't have. Several lodges have put sea animals on their flaps from time to time, even if it is not their regular totem. What do I have? Too much to list - ask me to find out.

BSA CSPs
I will trade your current CSP for my current Sam Houston Area council CSP. I also have some other local Texas CSPs if you don't want Sam Houston.
Also looking for older CSPs from Michigan and Texas.

Either leave comment here or email hatejunkmailsfens2000@yahoo.com for trades. Remove the first 12 letters from that email and there you have it. That email has an agressive spam filter and I don't even look at what goes in the junk box. It's not worth your time or mine, so just don't. OK, that being said, legit emails sometimes get scrubbed also. If I don't answer, try again.

Ever feel like you’re burning the camera, err… candle at both ends?

That’s what I take out of the new Spiderman installment.

The film will not disappoint in the action department, nor in the graphics department, not even in the story department – how could it with four major comic plot lines running the 2 hour and 36 minute gauntlet that is Spiderman 3?

Let’s see, you’ve got the Sandman, Hobgoblin, the Alien Suit, and Venom. Oh, yes, there’s also the ongoing story of Peter Parker’s life: proposing to Mary Jane, taking care of Aunt May, getting good grades, you know… everyday stuff. I guess that makes it five plot lines total – how does Spiderman do it? He must feel his life is like a crazed rollercoaster, running too fast… no time… can’t slow down… just gotta hang on a… bit… longer…

In truth, that’s what the film feels like, too… on the verge of collapse, a catastrophe just a momentary lapse in attention away. I think Sam Raimi (director) managed to balance all the twisting plot lines well enough, but he didn’t do justice to any of them. Each seemed to get short shrift. Too much to do, too little time.

Perhaps, though, this was a glimpse at what life is really like for Peter Parker. I mean, try to imagine balancing school, girlfriend, friends, family, and saving the city on a daily basis? Throw in an alien symbiote and Peter Parker’s life doesn’t just feel like an out of control roller coaster – it is out of control. It never stops, day after day.

I have always admired the Spiderman films (and the comic for that matter – or at least the better years of it) for their application to everyday life. Spiderman was always the hero of the people... the everyman hero who identified with the common denominator in us all. He’s hated and loved, powerful and weak, always late but just in the nick of time, the best friend you can’t count on, unknown yet famous, and he wins the day despite his flaws. A lesson in contradictions, his story is our story.

Forget the superficial moralizing in the film. This film is about American life – running, never slowing, got to do it all, damned if I’ll stop American life. Spiderman is the single mom, the father working two jobs, the fireman, the teacher, the soldier, the student (and even the evening law student).

You know what? Spidey always comes through alright. We will too. Keep fighting the good fight. Don’t stop.

Oh yeah, don’t forget to hang on... the ride can get a little rough.

Study for finals!
Learn now before it's too late.
Cramming hurts my head.

What's a Trade Secret?
Secret information with
Business value.

Will 102(b)
Bar my patent? One year rule.
When was it published?

Ha! This is funny.
I wonder if it will help
Me learn anything.

Maybe I'm just bored?
The mind plays terrible tricks
With too little sleep.

Now, the guy next to
Me is wondering why I
Am counting fingers.

One, two, three, four, five.
Sylables: five... seven... five.
Count the haiku out.

Maybe I'm crazy.
It's OK to admit it.
Where's my padded cell?

Do you remember the best friend you had when you were five years old?

Are you still friends? Why not?

One of our neighbors has a little grandson who is just a bit older than my son. Sometimes, when he stays at his grandparent’s house, they bring him by to play with my son. It’s fascinating to watch the dynamics between these little kids. Neither of them speaks and yet they play together, share toys, and even give each other hugs.

I remember when I was little and used to go to the park and make a new friend in an instant just by playing on the see-saw. A friendship founded in the brevity of “Hi, what’s your name? Let’s go swing!”

I could not make that sort of friend today - no way. I meet new people everyday with whom there is no “let’s swing” connection, nor will there ever be. They are nothing more than distant others – a backdrop to whatever all important, singular task I’m performing at the moment so that I can move on to the next all important, singular task.

It’s a problem of perception, I think. All truth is perception (a flaw of truth) that is filtered by our senses, minds, prejudices, and predisposition to view the world. Even if I were to try to make a friend like I did when I was five, it wouldn’t work. I’d cross someone’s safe boundaries, their definition of space, sense of propriety, or idea of good-sensed behavior. Their filters would block my attempt, and that would be the end of it.

I think this is what happens to kids as they grow up. They try to form that five-year-old connection with adults and fail. Incoming connection filtered out. Eventually, they learn not to try. Their filters form, in turn, and the cycle repeats.

End result, we can’t connect. That’s a shame. Without connection, we will never understand.