[You should read the May 28th entry before reading this one.]

Last week I was in Orland on Business. Lots of great things happened, and unfortunately, because no deals have been signed and we are still negotiating, and because there is a lot of maneuvering going on with other companies, I can’t discuss it here at all.

I find it very frustrating.

Nevertheless, I can still point out that this trip may have been the most important one of my career, if it leads where we hope it will. It is always nice with people in other companies like your products, and you both like each other, and you are thinking as you leave the door, “You know, I hope I get to work with those people in the future.”

But I still can’t talk about that. So instead of adding to those 119 words, I’ll talk about something I can discuss: our flight home.

We were supposed to go home at 9:30 AM on US Air (an airline I recommend). Fortunately we had a good meeting scheduled at the last minute at 7:30 AM, so we had to get a new flight for 2 PM with Northwest (yay frequent flier miles!). Then we had a meeting at 3 PM which was even better, so our new flight was for 6:40 PM with Spirit Airlines (so much for the miles).

Spirit Airlines. I look on that airline with fear and loathing. My friends and I flew out of New York City on that airline. There was no first class. The seats would cramp Calista Flockhart. There isn’t even any room for complaints, not that you would dare complain to the all male linebackers they used for flight attendants. The passengers were rude and flatulent.

And they didn’t even provide peanuts.

Well, that was three years ago. The flight back was nice. All the attendants welcomed every passenger. People on the entire craft seemed happy and in a good mood. They even provided food.

Because we had such a good trip, my flight home was even nicer because she bought us some upgrades to first class (and they only cost a $80 each!!). We couldn’t get seats together, but that was okay. I just planned on reading and writing up my notes of our meeting.

I didn’t do any of that, because I won the airline lottery again. As I stated before, I usually luck out and get to talk to lots of fun and interesting people. I have to admit it though, I get a kick out of meeting “famous” people, or at least people who have done amazing things in their life.

So, on this flight, I met Lisa, who is shown at the top of the link (though I’m not sure how active that will be). She was a much better person to talk to than Pamela Anderson! (I even told her about that story). We talk about practically everything during the entire flight. I’m impressed with what she has done (school, her current job, and her wonderful family), and it was terribly fun to talk about a world I’ll never experience. After all, she was one of the top ten finalists in the Mrs. America pageant, and I don’t plan on entering that competition.

I won’t discuss specifically about what we talked about because, well, that is her story to tell, and not mine. I think she liked hearing my stories as much as I liked hearing hers.

I’m glad that for about three hours, I was able to be a part of her life. I hope her long drive home was a safe one.

Last week’s business trip was very busy, very exciting, and very … business-y.

Unfortunately, I can’t talk much about it because we are still in the “Deal Making” stage. That’s right after the “Hello! My Name Is…” stage and right before the “Popping of the Champagne Cork” stage. At times I think of jumping right ahead to the “Why Are We Hiring Kids as Engineers” stage, but right now, I am having fun.

I can talk about my winning the airline lottery again, but it won’t make any sense unless I talk about the first time I sat next to someone interesting. Okay, maybe not interesting, but it was memorable.

Actually, I usually win the airline lottery. I’m fortunate that the people I sit next to usually like to talk, so I get to meet interesting people, learn everything about their lives in a deep and personal manner, and then never see them again.

Sometimes the people you meet provide good stories, and this is one of them.

Oh, and if you found this site through a keyword search hoping for porn, then I am afraid you are going to be disappointed. To your left are links to some baby pictures – maybe that will amuse you.

So three years ago I attended the E3, also known as the Electronics Entertainment Exposition. This is where all the big game companies like Sony and Microsoft get together to prove who has bigger penis by spending over $10 million dollars on a booth that won’t help sales at all.

Damn. I said penis. More porn hits. I’m sorry.

I did enjoy the expo. I got to play very new games. I had some interesting meetings with Disney (didn’t want to buy our product), Electronic Arts (didn’t want to buy our product), and Taldren
(a wonderful development house that doesn’t need our product – they made SFC 2 and 3, and are awesomely cool). I also met and hugged Claudia Christian. (Sheesh, what a cheesy website opening!) She was Ivanova on Babylon 5, hawking Disney’s video game based on the movie Atlantis. I’m not going to link it.

So, it is Friday, early afternoon, and I have a direct flight home from LA to Detroit. I’m tired and feel I’ve earned a treat, so I use my frequent flier miles to update my return flight on Northwest.

I figure, what the heck, I’ve got nothing better to use them on.

So, I find my seat in first class, and right before the aircraft doors close, a women rushes on to the plane and sits down next to me. She is, well, hot. She is also not my type. Skanky, thick blue eye shadow, very high blue heeled sandals that start 6” off the ground. Her jeans and jacket are denim, but with lots of jewels in them.

So, I say hi to her, she says I. I ask her what she does for a living. She gives me a strange look and says, “Not much of anything.”

Oh well.

We didn’t talk all that much. She was going to Detroit to visit her boyfriend and three kids. I told her about my wife and cats. That was about it.

Once I asked her to watch my computer when I went to the head. Mainly, we watched the movie, and I played on my computer while she looked at magazines.

Jump ahead to after the flight. I see her get off the plane and she’s met by a huge refrigerator of a man who greets her, kisses her on the cheek, and says, “Hi Pam, how was your flight?”

A bunch of guys are gawking, so I walk over to them.

“Hey, do you know who that woman is?”

“That’s Pamela Anderson.” (Don’t worry, the link is safe.)

“Wait…you mean I spent four and a half hours sitting next to Pamela Anderson and didn’t even know it?”

“Dude, you must be kidding.”

Only me. Only I could sit next to Pamela “I Don’t Do Much of Anything” Anderson and not know it.

Sigh.

I don’t watch Baywatch, or VIP. I tried watching VIP after I got home – I could only take seven minutes of it. Ick.

My wife finds this funny. Of course I’d sit next to Pam Anderson and not know it. That kind of stuff always happens to me.

When we were getting off the plane, I stopped her. “Wait, you have something on your jeans.” I picked a big piece off fluff on her tuchas. She smiled and thanked me. I should have sold it on Ebay.

If only I knew.

By the way, she was a very nice person. A wonderful voice and quite pleasant. She also has a tattoo at the bottom of her back, shown off by her low-rise jeans.

It was a long flight. Hey, I know I didn’t recognize her, but I’m not blind!

Although my Ph.D. is in engineering, I actually did diagnose my wrist problem correctly.

Once again, I have deQuervain’s Tenosyvnovitis.

According to the website I have linked, it is an inflammation of the tendons of two specific muscles on the thumb side of the hand.

Or, in layman’s terms, if I move my wrist a certain way, it hurts like hell.

So do the tests the doctors perform. “Okay, does this hurt?” “No.” “How about this?” “Nope.” “And this?” OUCH! OH MY GOD STOP THAT!” “Right. Yup, you have deQuervain’s.”

After they peeled me up of the floor the doctors at U of M hospital asked me how I knew what I have, since I actually used the write medical term with a mangled pronunciation.

I told them I had it before, only in my right wrist and not my left. They asked all the right questions about what treatments I had and why nothing but surgery worked. They knew the surgeon of worked on my wrist before and respected him.

So, the great news is that this time I don’t get any shots and a two month wait. No cast and then another two month wait. I get to have surgery right away, and in a couple of weeks after that I’ll be fine.

I go under the knife on June 13th. That means I’ll miss Border Wars, but I should be well enough to fight at the Siege of Talonvale. YAY!

After that I can go back to weight lifting, and find out what Fate is going to throw at me next to stop me from getting in good shape.

One positive effect of traveling so much is that the experience gives me lots of fodder for my daily blogs.

I wish it weren’t so.

It is kinda like saying that the great thing about root canal is that you get to experience all the modern less painful dental techniques.

The pain is still there, and you have people sticking things in your mouth and drilling.

So, I’m traveling again next week, from Monday to Thursday. I get to go to Orlando and spend all my time not in swim suits, but business suits. If I am lucky I might have my evenings free so I can watch the Buffy series finally all by myself instead of with a large group of good friends.

Wait, I’m sorry. Wrong rant.

Last week we are trying to figure out the schedule. The only sure thing was a meeting on Wednesday, so I figured I’d fly in Tuesday and come back Thursday.

A check of the airline fares tells me that the cost in around $250. Sweet!

However, we might have a meeting on Tuesday with a General, so we hold off.

It takes us a day to confirm things, and yes, I need to be there Tuesday, around 1 PM.

No problem, Northwest has early flights.

Wait a second. The airfare is now $750 if I want a 7:15 AM flight, or $1250 for any other time.

The price went up $1,000 in one day.

Monday’s flights are the same cost.

There are still seats, but the airfare went up $1,000.

So much for me getting frequent flier miles.

What is the deal? They still have seats open.

I even called them up. My boss called them up. It doesn’t matter that our companies has flown over a million miles with them. They don’t care and can’t change their rates.

A quick look on line and we discover that US Air has good flight times, for, get this $250.

So now Northwest doesn’t get my business. They probably won’t have a full plane, which also costs them money. And they ticked off a bunch of regular customers.

So much for the friendly skies.

Oh well. This will be my first time on US Air, and I like new experiences. My only complaint with these flights are that I have a layover in Charlotte. So instead of a 4 hour flight, it is now 7 hours.

Good thing I have work I can bring with me.

Or, if I get really bored, I could floss my teeth or something.

I'm tired.

Really tired.

You know how you are so tired when you are driving that the road blurs and you wonder all the headlights are on the wrong side of the road?

I’m more tired than that.

How about when you are work, and you look at the hard floor with the tissue paper thin carpet, and you think, “Hey, if I had a brick for a pillow, I’d be all set.”

Worse.

I’m so tired, I can’t fall asleep.

That is the worst. It is like your body is taunting you at your lowest point. “What? Yes, it would be great to sleep, but nope, we are going to keep you awake and make your life hell. Don’t worry, you’ll fall asleep eventually – probably during that important meeting you have tomorrow.”

And then your left foot falls asleep out of spite, which means it will be up all night partying.

It obviously started with my LA LA land. We left at around 3 PM, and due to layovers and delayed flights, we didn’t get until 10 PM local time (or, 1 AM our time).

The next day was The Meeting, which I won’t get into here because I want to keep this entry on its high positive outlook.

Thursday I flew back and got home at around 11:30 PM or so. Since that was 8:30 PM LA time, and I’d been there for two days, I wasn’t really tired.

Friday I worked, hard, since we had more things to do because of The Meeting.

Saturday I slept a bit late, and tried to relax, but work called. I went in at 8 PM and didn’t leave until 3:15 PM.

I also worked a couple of hours on Sunday. That night I dreamed about SLOC (software lines of code), software modules, and an army of soldiers programming an army of computers producing code that I had to document with a broken crayon.

Unfortunately my happy dreams were interrupted by my wonderful son Marcus, who, at around 4 AM, decided it would be fun to cry around 7 AM.

What a good boy.

For those of you not keeping score, today is Monday. Our responses were sent out (with around negative 23 seconds to spare), and I’m drained.

I really want to nap. I even went home early to nap, but sleep wouldn’t come.

I might be able to sleep now, but that would be a huge mistake. I’d probably wake up around 2 AM, be up all night and totally mess up my entire week.

Then again, if I were awake, I could go into Marcus’ room and start crying.

That might make it worth it…

I’m thinking of getting my hair cut.

Not just a trim, but short.

Very short.

Why?

I’m glad you asked.

I like having long hair. I have to admit, it is fun, and I am curious how long I can grow it. I think it looks pretty good tied back, and it is finally getting long enough that I really can tie it back.

Having it straightened was also fun too.

Unfortunately, it might be interfering with my work.

No no, I’m not about to lose my job because I have long hair. No one has told me to get it cut, or even suggested it.

But…

There is always a but that gets away from you and out there, even when you are sitting on it.

But…more and more I am traveling on business, and dealing with the government and the military.

These people are very conservative, and in business, first impressions mean a lot.

Now, although I may look like a long haired anti-government hippie peacenik, once they spend more than a minute with me everything is fine.

“Oh, he is a Ph.D., that explains it.”

“He really knows his stuff, and has lots of cool tech for the military.”

“He did what in Guam?”

Those first impressions though, do mean a lot.

I’m trying to make business deals. Why make it harder for them to feel comfortable around me? Why not get my hair cut and make it easier, so they don’t have to look past it.

Should they look past it? Of course.

We all have prejudices, though. Since I am the businessman, the more I think about it, the more I feel I don’t mind getting my hair cut, to smooth those gears of deals.

That is why I wear a suit and tie.

Tools of the trade, to help get the job done.

So, what do you think? Long hair or short?

[Tuesday, before leaving on my trip.]

Hi. I have a problem with my wrist, just like I had two years ago, but it is the other one.

Yes, that’s what I think it is. Can I have a referral? I’d like the same surgeon I had before?

Oh? Yeah, I did change my insurance. I see. Well, hopefully U of M is fine.

Right. Thanks for the number. I’ll call them and set up an appointment.

***

[Please hang on the line. There are … four … callers ahead of you.]

Hello? Yes, I have a problem with my wrist.

No, I’m a new patient.

Can’t I just give you my name?

No, I don’t have their fax number.

Sigh, okay, I’ll call you right back.

***

Hi, it is Charles Cohen again.

Yes, I did. They need to send you a new patient form, but I don’t have your fax number.

Ah, got it, thank you!

***

[Please hang on the line. There are … four … callers ahead of you.]

Hi, it is Charles Cohen again.

Yes, I have the number, it is…

Wait, how will they know what the fax is for?

That doesn’t make any…

Okay.

***

Hi, it is Charles Cohen again.

Yeah, I did. They are sending you a new patient fax, but they won’t put my name or my Doctor’s name on it.

No, I don’t understand it either. Could you look for it and send it back to them?

Thanks, I appreciate it.

Yes, I agree. Thanks again. I’ll probably call you again in five minutes…

This is a call to arms. They must be stopped.

As anyone who has watched the news lately knows, the Midwest and parts of the Southern United States have been hit with a terrible series of tornadoes. Great devastations have been wrought over much of this country.

Unfortunately, these tornadoes are not a natural phenomenon.

A documentary is now being shown that offers conclusive proof that these tornadoes are in fact man made, or should I say, woman made.

Dramatic footage shows that a Ms. Ororo Munroe, while piloting her jet, is responsible for the calamity that has hit our great nation.

You see, Ms. Munroe is a mutant.

Known as “Storm,” this freak apparently has the power to affect the weather. And I’m not talking about causing it to drizzle or raise the temperature a few degrees.

The documentary clearly shows that she willingly created not just dozens, but maybe even hundreds of tornadoes at about an altitude of 20,000 feet. This affected weather conditions for over 1,000 miles around, resulting in the devastation reported recently on the news.

These mutants use their powers whenever it pleases them, for their own personal benefit, without any care for the collateral damage they cause. Who reading this doesn’t know a someone, or a friend of a friend, who has not witnessed the destruction caused when two mutants fight – as they always seem to do.

I urge all of you out there to write your Senators, Congressmen, and especially Senator Robert Kelly, telling them that you fully support the Mutant Registration Act. We need to keep track of these people, not just for the good of normal patriotic Americans, but for their own safety as well.

Ms. Munroe needs to be brought to justice to pay for her crimes.

Act now, before it is too late.

I should not have been surprised when she showed up.

I only notice her when the times are bad. Yes, she is around when good things occur, and I’m a cad for not giving credit where credit is due, especially in her case.

But I just didn’t want to see her.

Though her showing up was not entirely unexpected.

Whenever I try to better myself, whenever I make the promise to me that I’ll stick to a routine, that I’ll see thing through, she is there, laughing, throwing roadblocks in my path, making my life that much more difficult and complicated.

She can be a real pain in the ass.

I am not all that certain if I can describe her. I’m not so vain to think that I’m the only one who has ever seen her. Actually, many people more worthy than me have spoken of her for a very long time.

She cannot be described with such terms as beauty, at least by me. That isn’t how I have seen her. Others have called her young and pretty, or old and ugly, but always in passing. Her looks weren’t important.

All have agreed, though, that she has one hell of a sense of style. The way she can move in and out of people’s lives as if she were your perfect dancing partner – and you can never tell who is leading, or if it really matters.

William Cowper in “A Fable – Moral” wrote:
"[She] steals along with silent tread,
Found oftenest in what least we dread;
Frowns in the storm with angry brow,
But in the sunshine strikes the blow."

He obviously hasn’t caught her during one of her bad hair days.

Marcus Valerius Martial knew her as I know her. In “Epigrams (IV, 60, 5)” he wrote: Nullo fata loco possis excludere. And he is right. There is no place you can exclude her. She will always be a part of my life, helping me along, and hindering me, all on her whims.

Though I raise my fists in anger, and tempt her, it really does no good. Heck, I even think it encourages her.

Seneca understood that. In “Epistoloe ad Lucilum” he wrote that she will “lead the willing, and drag the unwilling.”

Do you hear me? Right now I’m very unwilling!!

All I wanted to do was improve myself. Earlier I wrote how I was going to exercise on a fixed and firm schedule. Not one week goes by when you have to show up and disrupt everything.

I didn’t make my promise to taunt you. I made the promise as encouragement for me.

Shakespeare understands you. He wrote in Hamlet:

"But, orderly to end where I begun,
Our wills and fates do so contrary run
That our devices still are overthrown;
Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own."

You see? Good ole Bill thinks you are a bitch too.

I’m not going to give in. Not to you.

Not to anyone.

George Bernard Shaw is right, you see.

"People are always blaming their circumstances for what they are.
I don't believe in circumstances. The people who get on in this
world are the people who get up and look for the circumstances
they want, and, if they can't find them, make them."

So listen carefully.

I will continue to make statements that tempt you.

I can’t stop you from showing up, but I will not live in fear from you. We are old friends, you and I. While you know just how to strike at me, usually in that not-so-subtle ironic way, I will be expecting you.

You may embrace me like an old lover, you also keep stealing all the sheets, and I’m not afraid of yanking them back.

Robert Burton understood how you work. In … I love this title … in “Anatomoy of Melancholy (pt. II, sec. II, memb. 3), he knows that you are impossible to stop.

Many things happen between the cup and the lip.

Indeed they do.

So, Missy, I am going to go on temping you and your sisters. Pluck my strands. Play with my life. Just never forget that it is my life, and I am the one who will decide how I will live it, not matter what you throw in my way.

I will get healed, even if it takes surgery. And I will get stronger and healthier.

As Caesar is often quoted as saying, “Jacta alea esto.”

Let the die be cast.

Hmm, not strong enough.

I think I need Ash from Army of Darkness: “You want a piece of me?”

Fine.

Come get some.