I've always liked Roman numerals.For those unfamiliar, I'll save you a few seconds of searching: this post is titled "2017" in Roman numerals.
So, this is my first "official" post of 2017, and as I was looking at my blog stats earlier, I noted with pleasure and amazement that I had acquired a reader in... MONGOLIA! It ranked up there in amazement with my first African reader!
Now, I hope no one is thinking that I'm some... I'm not sure- fill-in-the-blank person from North America. Quite the opposite- I'm a casual writer who has, over the course of a few short years, had the privilege to have his stuff read in ~50 countries around the globe. And a fair percentage- if not an outright majority- do not claim English as their native tongue. So to all of my readers, old and new, I wish you a Happy New Year, Thank You and WELCOME to my blog... my little corner of the internet!
For those completely new to this blog, it has more of a "unifying theme" rather than a plot, theme or storyline. I try to keep it a safe place- no vulgarity or situations requiring the reader to agree or disagree with any political, moral or religious opinion. It sounds a bit like milk toast, but honestly, this blog is nothing more than my attempt to tell a few stories, chronicle some events and just communicate what Life looks like through my eyes... and the unifying theme is the Secret Underground Lair (SUL).
I'll reveal what is surely a pretty poorly kept secret: the SUL is a room in the basement of a modest home in the NW suburbs of Chicago (GO CUBS!). Our home is also the location of the Dungeon. our physical fitness training area- currently overrun by clutter. The rest of the basement is not named, with the exception of the Pantry, which currently is home to some chicken stock, canned tomatoes and a few other edible sundries.
The SUL is an office area, walled off from the rest of the basement and accessible by a door which has a bell on a string (we have four cats- three have learned how to use the bell. The 4th doesn't care). During our waking hours, Mr. T and I conduct business here. We pretty much sit kitty corner and back to back of each other. Both of our areas of control are in a fair amount of disarray, although the office is starting to come together. I'm not one of those folks who makes New Year's Resolutions, but I'm thinking that this will be the year when we FINALLY get the office in shape. We've made a few small steps already, discarding a few things and doing some organizing.
On the negative side, we're 18 months (at least) behind on this project.
I've noticed that Life seems to be a project, and the SUL is a great microcosm of this concept. I've already replaced some older Cat 5e cabling which was throttling network performance- I have one more switch on the way which will take care of a few other issues. I also have two older PCs which I'm thinking of adding a second gigabit NIC (network interface card)- which would theoretically double available bandwidth and throughput to the PCs. That's a question for later.
The last paragraph is a good example of my unifying theme. I shoot for data, but as I'm a hands-on SOHO I.T. guy, you'll often seen see speeds and feeds here. I hope everyone reading this will continue, possibly looking at some of my previous posts, and hopefully returning for more!
Lastly, I'm hoping we can dye the elephant this week.
????????
A year or so ago, I bought a plush elephant from a local retailer. I eventually also purchased a bottle of yellow dye. Why? Hadoop, of course! The unifying theme of this blog really is DATA... well, it tries.
It's time to put this to bed. I've read lots of articles, posts and blogs that were difficult to read, simply because they were presented as the dreaded "walls of text". No fear here- I try to keep my paragraphs short. I hope you've enjoyed this overview/review- please come back again!
As always, I am hochspeyer, blogging data analysis and management so you don't have to.
Showing posts with label Chicago. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chicago. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 4, 2017
Sunday, February 28, 2016
Managing data better
I just discovered a fairly large data loss. As mentioned in a previous post, I rebuilt my laptop due to a failed HDD. Unfortunately (no one is looking, you can raise your hand if this has ever happened to you), I had a fair amount of data on that drive which was not backed up.
To paraphrase Hall and Oates, its gone. So, to paraphrase the unofficial motto of Chicago ("Vote early, vote often"), Save early, save often.
As promised in my previous blog, I'm going to spend a bit of time on Lego, because as far as my data is concerned, it is handled a bit differently than the other items which I am cataloging.
Lego and I go way back, but I didn't attempt to catalog my Lego collection until fairly recently. I've given consideration to including Lego in the "big database" (Forty-Two), but have found that- at least for me in this particular application, Excel is the better tool for me to use. Let me try to unpack that a bit.
Some time ago, I had the opportunity to observe how several different businesses utilized software to work with data. Some preferred Microsoft Access, and most preferred Microsoft Excel, or, to be a bit more generic, spreadsheets were preferred over databases. In only one business were both used- but independently, rather than in a complimentary fashion. The preference of software had little to do with function, generally speaking. Rather, it was more about culture and familiarity. In every case I observed, the results could have been improved simply by not just "thinking outside the box," but merely by thinking.
In my case, a spreadsheet seems to be the best solution- based upon my experience. My primary reasoning behind this is because Lego is a single thing which does not need to be linked (or, related) to anything else. And, even though I may be interested in a bit of analysis of the Lego "population", in the larger scheme of things Lego exists in its own unique bubble: shapes, colors, themes, sizes. I could build tables based upon these and other categories, but once again, they would relate only to Lego.
Forty-Two, on the other hand, illustrates quite well the differences between a flat database (the Lego spreadsheet) and a relational database (Forty-Two). With the Lego spreadsheet, I can see a snapshot of all the facts of my Lego collection. But with Forty-Two I can write an ad hoc query to tell me where all Lord of the Rings media is located. It would show where each book, soundtrack, game and video is located. It would also show the number of copies in a given format. It would also tell me the last time the media was viewed.
There's also one additional aspect of Lego databasing which is unrelated to software, but makes cataloging it so much easier: storage.
I'm an AFOL (Adult Fan of Lego). AFOL is a title; more of a descriptor, actually, as it really doesn't carry any of the clout that, say, CCNA carries. Still, it differentiates me from most adults who play with their kids while playing with Lego. And, its somewhat hard to say that without sounding like some sort of pompous jerk, because it sounds like I'm slamming parents who "play" Lego with their kids. Quite the contrary! If you're a parent who engages with your kids over a pile of Lego, kudos to you!
An AFOL, though, uses Lego as their primary creative medium. There are professional Lego artists out there who make a good living by building amazing models for corporate clients. There are also educators who use Lego in either a standard classroom setting, or in a program for ASD (autism spectrum disorder) kids. Even architects use Lego for models. And although each of these examples is an example of adults working with Lego for a living, the typical AFOL is something else.
They're a bit of a subject expert on Lego. They probably have some advanced building skills. But mostly, I think, they are something of a type of a Leonardo da Vinci. They are probably the precursors of the maker movement, which is another subject entirely.
Back on track: AFOLs need organization, and the English word for this is storage. Over the course of many years, many bricks (elements) will be collected. I've found that the (current) best way to keep track of these is to put them in plastic bags (connected in groups of 10) with a card inside indicating the count and the date of the count. These, in turn, reside in drawer organizers.
As always, I am hochspeyer, blogging data analysis ad management so you don't have to.
To paraphrase Hall and Oates, its gone. So, to paraphrase the unofficial motto of Chicago ("Vote early, vote often"), Save early, save often.
As promised in my previous blog, I'm going to spend a bit of time on Lego, because as far as my data is concerned, it is handled a bit differently than the other items which I am cataloging.
Lego and I go way back, but I didn't attempt to catalog my Lego collection until fairly recently. I've given consideration to including Lego in the "big database" (Forty-Two), but have found that- at least for me in this particular application, Excel is the better tool for me to use. Let me try to unpack that a bit.
Some time ago, I had the opportunity to observe how several different businesses utilized software to work with data. Some preferred Microsoft Access, and most preferred Microsoft Excel, or, to be a bit more generic, spreadsheets were preferred over databases. In only one business were both used- but independently, rather than in a complimentary fashion. The preference of software had little to do with function, generally speaking. Rather, it was more about culture and familiarity. In every case I observed, the results could have been improved simply by not just "thinking outside the box," but merely by thinking.
In my case, a spreadsheet seems to be the best solution- based upon my experience. My primary reasoning behind this is because Lego is a single thing which does not need to be linked (or, related) to anything else. And, even though I may be interested in a bit of analysis of the Lego "population", in the larger scheme of things Lego exists in its own unique bubble: shapes, colors, themes, sizes. I could build tables based upon these and other categories, but once again, they would relate only to Lego.
Forty-Two, on the other hand, illustrates quite well the differences between a flat database (the Lego spreadsheet) and a relational database (Forty-Two). With the Lego spreadsheet, I can see a snapshot of all the facts of my Lego collection. But with Forty-Two I can write an ad hoc query to tell me where all Lord of the Rings media is located. It would show where each book, soundtrack, game and video is located. It would also show the number of copies in a given format. It would also tell me the last time the media was viewed.
There's also one additional aspect of Lego databasing which is unrelated to software, but makes cataloging it so much easier: storage.
I'm an AFOL (Adult Fan of Lego). AFOL is a title; more of a descriptor, actually, as it really doesn't carry any of the clout that, say, CCNA carries. Still, it differentiates me from most adults who play with their kids while playing with Lego. And, its somewhat hard to say that without sounding like some sort of pompous jerk, because it sounds like I'm slamming parents who "play" Lego with their kids. Quite the contrary! If you're a parent who engages with your kids over a pile of Lego, kudos to you!
An AFOL, though, uses Lego as their primary creative medium. There are professional Lego artists out there who make a good living by building amazing models for corporate clients. There are also educators who use Lego in either a standard classroom setting, or in a program for ASD (autism spectrum disorder) kids. Even architects use Lego for models. And although each of these examples is an example of adults working with Lego for a living, the typical AFOL is something else.
They're a bit of a subject expert on Lego. They probably have some advanced building skills. But mostly, I think, they are something of a type of a Leonardo da Vinci. They are probably the precursors of the maker movement, which is another subject entirely.
Back on track: AFOLs need organization, and the English word for this is storage. Over the course of many years, many bricks (elements) will be collected. I've found that the (current) best way to keep track of these is to put them in plastic bags (connected in groups of 10) with a card inside indicating the count and the date of the count. These, in turn, reside in drawer organizers.
As always, I am hochspeyer, blogging data analysis ad management so you don't have to.
Sunday, December 27, 2015
Merry Christmas, Happy Christmas
Merry Christmas or Happy Christmas or whatever you might say in your neighborhood. Or not.
Those of us here in the United States have a way of assuming that folks everywhere do things in the same fashion that we do. And then we beat ourselves up for this notion. However, I'm thinking that this might just be simply human nature rather than American stupidity, because I think as a rule, we probably believe that everyone is going through the same stuff that we are.
For example, I have a couple of coworkers that (obviously) live in the same area that I do, except that they live to the south of me. We generally experience the same weather.
Last year, though.... One of our coworkers is originally from Russia. North of the Arctic Circle. Bloody ******* cold Russia. Chicago had experienced one of the worst cold winters on record. So cold, in fact, that it was warmer north of the Arctic Circle- where our coworker hails from.
Perceptions and your reality are not universal truth.
As John Lennon said, "So this is Christmas".
Christmas is most likely unknown in some parts of the world, and misunderstood or maligned where it is known. In the United States, which is probably the "Christmas Capitol of the World" (I just made that up, but it's probably accurate), Christmas has become so secularized and commercialized that, like Halloween and Easter, not much seems to be left of its real meaning.
Therefore, I've decided to make a sort of peace with the two versions of Christmas: the secular and the sacred.
The secular: I enjoy this simply because it is so joyful and peaceful on a number of levels. For starters, it's about winter in the northern hemisphere- something that is quite familiar to me. The scent of pine has always been pleasant to me, and the effect is compounded in the brisk, wintry air. I also love the music of Christmas- a great deal of it. There have been some real stinkers that have come out (Santa Baby, and The Most Wonderful Time of the Year come to mind immediately).
Folks tend to be a bit more divided about movies, though, because although its generally pretty easy to tell that a song is a Christmas song, the criteria for Christmas movies is pretty much a grey area. For example, apart from movies which actually feature the story of the birth of Jesus, we're left with a pretty large collection of movies which either deal with the secular version of Christmas, or merely occur around Christmas. I'm not a real movie fan, but two of my favorite movies fit into the latter category- they occur around Christmas: Die Hard, and Lethal Weapon. And for the record, I do NOT like Elf.
As for the real "reason for the season," I think the Bible explains it better than I can.
As always, I am hochspeyer, blogging data analysis and management so you don't have to.
Those of us here in the United States have a way of assuming that folks everywhere do things in the same fashion that we do. And then we beat ourselves up for this notion. However, I'm thinking that this might just be simply human nature rather than American stupidity, because I think as a rule, we probably believe that everyone is going through the same stuff that we are.
For example, I have a couple of coworkers that (obviously) live in the same area that I do, except that they live to the south of me. We generally experience the same weather.
Last year, though.... One of our coworkers is originally from Russia. North of the Arctic Circle. Bloody ******* cold Russia. Chicago had experienced one of the worst cold winters on record. So cold, in fact, that it was warmer north of the Arctic Circle- where our coworker hails from.
Perceptions and your reality are not universal truth.
As John Lennon said, "So this is Christmas".
Christmas is most likely unknown in some parts of the world, and misunderstood or maligned where it is known. In the United States, which is probably the "Christmas Capitol of the World" (I just made that up, but it's probably accurate), Christmas has become so secularized and commercialized that, like Halloween and Easter, not much seems to be left of its real meaning.
Therefore, I've decided to make a sort of peace with the two versions of Christmas: the secular and the sacred.
The secular: I enjoy this simply because it is so joyful and peaceful on a number of levels. For starters, it's about winter in the northern hemisphere- something that is quite familiar to me. The scent of pine has always been pleasant to me, and the effect is compounded in the brisk, wintry air. I also love the music of Christmas- a great deal of it. There have been some real stinkers that have come out (Santa Baby, and The Most Wonderful Time of the Year come to mind immediately).
Folks tend to be a bit more divided about movies, though, because although its generally pretty easy to tell that a song is a Christmas song, the criteria for Christmas movies is pretty much a grey area. For example, apart from movies which actually feature the story of the birth of Jesus, we're left with a pretty large collection of movies which either deal with the secular version of Christmas, or merely occur around Christmas. I'm not a real movie fan, but two of my favorite movies fit into the latter category- they occur around Christmas: Die Hard, and Lethal Weapon. And for the record, I do NOT like Elf.
As for the real "reason for the season," I think the Bible explains it better than I can.
As always, I am hochspeyer, blogging data analysis and management so you don't have to.
Thursday, July 9, 2015
Monitoring progress in the SUL
monitors.
The next photo shows the old monitors which, to be fair, were never intended to be more than an interim monitor solution for these workstations.
Other than that, I guess it's been a pretty slow week for news, blogging, tweeting- pretty quiet both on- and offline for me.
Amanda and Mike (daughter and son-in-law) came to visit this past weekend. We had a great time- played Cards Against Humanity, Settlers of Catan, had many conversations and some excellent food. Mike and Amanda are now official denizens of the menagerie!
Nothing else is new. Well, except for the story. Y'all remember my e-friend in Japan J.S. Frankel? Well, he and I have been chatting on and off over the past few months about writing, and so I'm once again taking a stab at fiction.
Lastly, J.S. Frankel and I met on a bodybuilding site a few years ago. I'm not sure what his commitment to bodybuilding is today, but mine is down near zero. It's something I want and need to change. To that end, I purchased a genuine Wham-O Super Ball last week at Aldi. Actually, its a Super Duper Ball. It's about twice the size of the original, and I don't think its as dense or bounces as high as the original. Still, it's a pretty nifty all-in-one workout device... I'm not going to get Arnold-sized using it, but I'm using it, and this is important in the calorie burning/muscle building department.
One more bit of news, and then I need to put this blog to bed. Jennifer and I were out shopping yesterday, and wouldn't you know it but the TPMS (tire pressure monitoring system) warning light came on. We were able to drive Meerkat, our trusty Subie, home without incident. The thing that's mildly amusing about this is my history with flats: I've had four- exactly four- in over thirty years of driving. My first occurred in Chicago on my Chevy Nova in a slightly rough neighborhood of Chicago. Mark, Dr. Dave and I were on our way back from a concert with The Alarm and The Pretenders at the Aragon Ballroom. I turned a corner on a sidestreet, and one of Chicago's famous potholes blew out a tire- that was college days. Flat #2 occurred at high speed on I-355 on my way home from work, pre 9/11. It was the left rear tire of our 1999 Escort... the same car I drove to work last night. I remember this flat because although it was rush hour, no one stopped to see if I needed assistance. I changed that tire with my butt facing traffic. It was not pleasant. Flash forward to Meerkat. We've had Meerkat for 15 months, and I've gotten two flats, and I'd bet both of them were due to construction in the area... I know for a fact the first one was, because the technician that repaired the tire showed me the offending piece of metal.
That's it for now. As always, I am hochspeyer, blogging data analysis and management so you don't have to.
Monday, December 1, 2014
Meerkat's Greatest Adventure (of 2014), Part 1
Monday, November 24th- a day that will live in history.
Well, they all do, don't they, but for different reasons.
It's officially December which means its time to recount the adventure which was ... THANKSGIVING WEEK!
I've traditionally taken the week of Thanksgiving off from work. It comes late in the year, but as the company provides two paid days off, it's tough to resist as a holiday. Jennifer and I don't normally travel, but with a bit of careful planning, I can generally get three weeks of vacation out of my allotted two weeks with a bit of creative scheduling.
The problem with my plan is that vacations don't always go to plan. I'm not sure how things work in your part of the world, but the "expectation" in the United States for a "vacation" is that one will travel somewhere. For a myriad of reasons, this has not been possible for Jennifer and I for many, many years. This year, though, we had the opportunity to travel. And so we did... to visit the parents!
We had originally planned to leave on Saturday or Sunday, but I had been experiencing a bout of weather induced tendonitis starting around Friday evening. I popped a lot of little blue pills (naproxen), and by Sunday evening the symptoms were all but gone. As I've dealt with this over the past several years, I had a good idea that the worst of it was over and that I was good to travel. Jennifer and I talked this over quite a bit, and finally decided that the trip was on.
As we had a pretty good idea of how the trip was going to be, we were able to pack with even the short notice that we had. The only major change to our original travel plans was simple but significant: instead of swapping out drivers and driving for as long as possible, we reverted to our tried-and-true method of Chris driving and Jennifer navigating. Win-win!
We took off at 0738 local on Monday morning, and promptly lost precious time in rush hour traffic. Once clear of the greater Chicago area, we experienced a mix of snow and rain and as we approached Missouri, the weather cleared entirely except for gusting winds which stayed with us for all of Monday and part of Tuesday. In our vacation planning enthusiasm, we had thought that there was an outside chance of making the trip in one day, and avoiding a hotel stay. Between the traffic delay when we first set out and a GPS issue outside of St. Louis, we decided that a one night hotel stay would be the best course of action. At approximately 1800 local, we found ourselves in a sort line at the La Quinta hotel in Springfield, MO to get a room for the night. Once we got settled in, we drove over to the Bob Evans restaurant for a nice dinner. I don't recall what either of us had, but it was delicious!
That was the evening when the Ferguson grand jury results were announced. We had a really nice breakfast at La Quinta the following morning, and were bombarded with more Ferguson news. It was at that point that we decided to take an alternate route back home, avoiding the St. Louis area completely.
We drove on, out of Missouri and into Oklahoma, and finally into Texas. As you can see, the "grass" in Texas is more brown than green- Jennifer says they're in year seven of a drought. After driving through more construction than I've seen in quite some time, we arrived at Jennifer's folks home in the suburbs of Fort Worth, TX.
Unlike most traditional "go, Go, GO!" vacations, this one was all about family time, and we didn't do anything "touristy". One of Jennifer's sisters also came to visit, and on one day all three sisters were able to get together. A good time was had by one and all.
The Ferguson grand jury decision was announced when we were in Springfield. Upon seeing the reaction to the decision on the news, we decided to stay as far as possible away from St. Louis as possible- deciding to be flexible and drive north or east. The only major city we went through on the return trip was Oklahoma city, which turned out to be quite fortuitous. Around 800 miles (~1760km) from home, we found ourselves northbound on Interstate 35- right around Norman, OK-, and the oil light came on. Now, I've got to say that both Jennifer and I actually remained quite calm through this adventure. She pulled out the manual and began to familiarize herself with the yellow light. I pulled off the road and found a Firestone repair shop. I parked in their back lot and shut the engine off. I pulled the dipstick and it looked full (silly me- it was A dipstick, but we soon discovered it was not THE oil dipstick). So, we got back on the road and within a few miles the light came on again!
VARIOUS AND SUNDRY FOUR-LETTER WORDS!
Actually, no four-letter words were uttered. We pulled off of the interstate once again and called Subaru roadside assistance. One thing we learned from this trip was to keep one cell phone 100% charged or charging at all times- this was especially important as Jennifer's phone was dying. It was about noon when we called, and then a whole bunch of little miracles followed.
We had parked in front of a long-defunct honky tonk, and the tow truck operator ( a self-proclaimed "rhinestone cowboy") knew exactly where we were. It turned out that he was the owner of the towing company. On his left hip he had a pouch with a spare magazine for the nickel plated semi-automatic holstered on his right hip. His partner was a rugged looking fellow, about six feet tall (just under 2m), sporting cowboy boots, denim jeans and jacket, and a straw cowboy hat. We were in good company!
The local Subaru dealership, Hudiburg Subaru, was only about five minutes away. This is not amazing on the surface, but it turns out that we had broken down near to one of the only THREE Subaru dealerships in the entire state! We rode in the back seat of the truck, and were soon at the dealer. It was 12:50.
We met with Brian the service manager (I think... I should have grabbed his card!), and he immediately said he was not sure the tech was in, as service closed at 1300! He dashed off, and a few minutes later returned saying he had found the tech and Meerkat would be seen. A short while later, Brian came to the waiting room- the problem was merely low oil! Topped off, we thanked Brian profusely and were on the road again.
The rest of the trip was uneventful, apart from the one lane gravel roads in Oklahoma farmland and the crazy meth dealer.
The one lane roads were rather nice, except they seem to go on forever, and it seemed to take an hour to escape them. The crazy meth dealer, on the other hand, freaked me out. There we were, back in Clinton, MO after surviving the backroad that went through Truman Lake. We were in a strip mall parking lot behind a gas station, checking hotel prices on the internet when suddenly a car pulls up parallel to ours. I did not see the driver- all I knew was the vehicle was a beater. I put Meerkat into gear and we drove to the gas station and stopped. The psycho meth dealer followed us, and I think after she got a good look at our out of state license plates she sped out of the gas station. Jennifer said she was an older lady with at least half a dozen yappy lap dogs in the car. I could not WAIT to get away from that psycho lady!
No data tonight- sorry. The closest thing I have to data is miles per gallon: the best MPG I observed on the rolling MPG that the cabin instruments report was 31.5. And that's AWD traveling between 75-80 mph (165-176 kph).
Finally, there may be a part 2 to this story, told from the SUL perspective. It'll be fun- I promise!
Well, they all do, don't they, but for different reasons.
It's officially December which means its time to recount the adventure which was ... THANKSGIVING WEEK!
I've traditionally taken the week of Thanksgiving off from work. It comes late in the year, but as the company provides two paid days off, it's tough to resist as a holiday. Jennifer and I don't normally travel, but with a bit of careful planning, I can generally get three weeks of vacation out of my allotted two weeks with a bit of creative scheduling.
The problem with my plan is that vacations don't always go to plan. I'm not sure how things work in your part of the world, but the "expectation" in the United States for a "vacation" is that one will travel somewhere. For a myriad of reasons, this has not been possible for Jennifer and I for many, many years. This year, though, we had the opportunity to travel. And so we did... to visit the parents!
We had originally planned to leave on Saturday or Sunday, but I had been experiencing a bout of weather induced tendonitis starting around Friday evening. I popped a lot of little blue pills (naproxen), and by Sunday evening the symptoms were all but gone. As I've dealt with this over the past several years, I had a good idea that the worst of it was over and that I was good to travel. Jennifer and I talked this over quite a bit, and finally decided that the trip was on.
As we had a pretty good idea of how the trip was going to be, we were able to pack with even the short notice that we had. The only major change to our original travel plans was simple but significant: instead of swapping out drivers and driving for as long as possible, we reverted to our tried-and-true method of Chris driving and Jennifer navigating. Win-win!
We took off at 0738 local on Monday morning, and promptly lost precious time in rush hour traffic. Once clear of the greater Chicago area, we experienced a mix of snow and rain and as we approached Missouri, the weather cleared entirely except for gusting winds which stayed with us for all of Monday and part of Tuesday. In our vacation planning enthusiasm, we had thought that there was an outside chance of making the trip in one day, and avoiding a hotel stay. Between the traffic delay when we first set out and a GPS issue outside of St. Louis, we decided that a one night hotel stay would be the best course of action. At approximately 1800 local, we found ourselves in a sort line at the La Quinta hotel in Springfield, MO to get a room for the night. Once we got settled in, we drove over to the Bob Evans restaurant for a nice dinner. I don't recall what either of us had, but it was delicious!
That was the evening when the Ferguson grand jury results were announced. We had a really nice breakfast at La Quinta the following morning, and were bombarded with more Ferguson news. It was at that point that we decided to take an alternate route back home, avoiding the St. Louis area completely.We drove on, out of Missouri and into Oklahoma, and finally into Texas. As you can see, the "grass" in Texas is more brown than green- Jennifer says they're in year seven of a drought. After driving through more construction than I've seen in quite some time, we arrived at Jennifer's folks home in the suburbs of Fort Worth, TX.
Unlike most traditional "go, Go, GO!" vacations, this one was all about family time, and we didn't do anything "touristy". One of Jennifer's sisters also came to visit, and on one day all three sisters were able to get together. A good time was had by one and all.
The Ferguson grand jury decision was announced when we were in Springfield. Upon seeing the reaction to the decision on the news, we decided to stay as far as possible away from St. Louis as possible- deciding to be flexible and drive north or east. The only major city we went through on the return trip was Oklahoma city, which turned out to be quite fortuitous. Around 800 miles (~1760km) from home, we found ourselves northbound on Interstate 35- right around Norman, OK-, and the oil light came on. Now, I've got to say that both Jennifer and I actually remained quite calm through this adventure. She pulled out the manual and began to familiarize herself with the yellow light. I pulled off the road and found a Firestone repair shop. I parked in their back lot and shut the engine off. I pulled the dipstick and it looked full (silly me- it was A dipstick, but we soon discovered it was not THE oil dipstick). So, we got back on the road and within a few miles the light came on again!
VARIOUS AND SUNDRY FOUR-LETTER WORDS!
Actually, no four-letter words were uttered. We pulled off of the interstate once again and called Subaru roadside assistance. One thing we learned from this trip was to keep one cell phone 100% charged or charging at all times- this was especially important as Jennifer's phone was dying. It was about noon when we called, and then a whole bunch of little miracles followed.
The local Subaru dealership, Hudiburg Subaru, was only about five minutes away. This is not amazing on the surface, but it turns out that we had broken down near to one of the only THREE Subaru dealerships in the entire state! We rode in the back seat of the truck, and were soon at the dealer. It was 12:50.
We met with Brian the service manager (I think... I should have grabbed his card!), and he immediately said he was not sure the tech was in, as service closed at 1300! He dashed off, and a few minutes later returned saying he had found the tech and Meerkat would be seen. A short while later, Brian came to the waiting room- the problem was merely low oil! Topped off, we thanked Brian profusely and were on the road again.
The rest of the trip was uneventful, apart from the one lane gravel roads in Oklahoma farmland and the crazy meth dealer.
The one lane roads were rather nice, except they seem to go on forever, and it seemed to take an hour to escape them. The crazy meth dealer, on the other hand, freaked me out. There we were, back in Clinton, MO after surviving the backroad that went through Truman Lake. We were in a strip mall parking lot behind a gas station, checking hotel prices on the internet when suddenly a car pulls up parallel to ours. I did not see the driver- all I knew was the vehicle was a beater. I put Meerkat into gear and we drove to the gas station and stopped. The psycho meth dealer followed us, and I think after she got a good look at our out of state license plates she sped out of the gas station. Jennifer said she was an older lady with at least half a dozen yappy lap dogs in the car. I could not WAIT to get away from that psycho lady!
No data tonight- sorry. The closest thing I have to data is miles per gallon: the best MPG I observed on the rolling MPG that the cabin instruments report was 31.5. And that's AWD traveling between 75-80 mph (165-176 kph).
Finally, there may be a part 2 to this story, told from the SUL perspective. It'll be fun- I promise!
Sunday, August 17, 2014
Mind == Blown.
As mentioned in a previous blog, Quantum Leaping for non-physicists.html, I occasionally have issues with time. I could not be a Time Lord- for the record, Tom Baker was "my" Doctor. And also, for the record, I'm not a quantum physicist, although I enjoy both the Quantum Leap and The Big Bang Theory television series. Today, however, I felt more than just a twinge of sympathy with Quantum Leap's Dr. Sam Beckett- for a good thirty seconds, I actually lived his life. Here's what happened.
A few months ago, I had the misfortune of parking under some pine trees at work. As a result, Meerkat (our trusty Subaru Outback) acquired several globs of pine tar. For those unfamiliar with this substance, think of it as a very pleasant smelling substance, lighter than honey in color, but on an order or several times more viscous than said honey. Here's a formula for shear viscosity I found online-
Pretty cool- I don't have the foggiest notion what it means, but since I mentioned quantum physics, I figured I'd throw a bit of science out there, and see what sticks (*oh yes, pun truly intended).
Back to the story- we've only had Meerkat since April. The tar is on both glass and painted surfaces. As it was a cool day, Jennifer had suggested that I mow the lawn. I mowed the lawn, and then figured I had time to try to get the tar off of the car. I had some Bug and Tar remover in the garage, so I got it out, read the instructions and then tried it on the windshield. I didn't get all of the gunk off, but the product was several years old and had been stored in the garage. And as the Chicago area is not known for mild winters, I decided to get a new bottle. I asked Jennifer if she'd like to go to the auto parts store with me, and we could stop at Aldi afterwards (note to European readers: Aldi has stores in the United States). So, I changed clothes and we were off. It was near 1700- rush hour- and I was going to cross a busy street- two lanes northbound and two lanes southbound traffic. I could not believe our fortune- it took probably less than thirty seconds to cross the street! We went in to the auto parts store, purchased the bug and tar remover, and then were off to Aldi. As we strolled down the first aisle of Aldi... I don't recall exactly how the topic came up, but it did: somehow, in an instant, my brain turned into Dr. Sam Beckett's Swiss-cheese-right-after-a-leap brain.
It was Sunday, not Monday.
Now, I've mentioned before- and probably more than once- that I often will ask Jennifer what day it is. This, however, was the first time that I've gone through the day believing that it was a weekday rather than a weekend day. Jennifer found the whole affair quite amusing, and in retrospect I suppose it was. But for me, the thirty seconds or so after that revelation were disorienting- it weirded me out more than a little, to be completely honest. Scoring an extra twenty-four hours is cool, to be certain. But- and this is a big "but"- my reality changed. Not in a bad way... more like an odd, momentary lapse into the indescribable... I was in The Twilight Zone. Not Golden Earring's Twilight Zone. Rod Serlings' black and white Twilight Zone. And I couldn't change the channel.
I've got nothing else. The memory of the event already has developed that soft patina that time is kind enough to paint onto events such as this. On the plus side, there's no lightning bolt scar on my forehead.
Before I forget: some small news on the I.T. front. Not really data related, but this past Monday I got to actually do some programming at work: I got to run a job, start to finish. This made me quite happy, as my nights are generally filled with doing all sorts of important stuff, but most of which has little to do with my actual title!
As always, I am hochspeyer, blogging data analysis and management so you don't have to.
A few months ago, I had the misfortune of parking under some pine trees at work. As a result, Meerkat (our trusty Subaru Outback) acquired several globs of pine tar. For those unfamiliar with this substance, think of it as a very pleasant smelling substance, lighter than honey in color, but on an order or several times more viscous than said honey. Here's a formula for shear viscosity I found online-
Pretty cool- I don't have the foggiest notion what it means, but since I mentioned quantum physics, I figured I'd throw a bit of science out there, and see what sticks (*oh yes, pun truly intended).Back to the story- we've only had Meerkat since April. The tar is on both glass and painted surfaces. As it was a cool day, Jennifer had suggested that I mow the lawn. I mowed the lawn, and then figured I had time to try to get the tar off of the car. I had some Bug and Tar remover in the garage, so I got it out, read the instructions and then tried it on the windshield. I didn't get all of the gunk off, but the product was several years old and had been stored in the garage. And as the Chicago area is not known for mild winters, I decided to get a new bottle. I asked Jennifer if she'd like to go to the auto parts store with me, and we could stop at Aldi afterwards (note to European readers: Aldi has stores in the United States). So, I changed clothes and we were off. It was near 1700- rush hour- and I was going to cross a busy street- two lanes northbound and two lanes southbound traffic. I could not believe our fortune- it took probably less than thirty seconds to cross the street! We went in to the auto parts store, purchased the bug and tar remover, and then were off to Aldi. As we strolled down the first aisle of Aldi... I don't recall exactly how the topic came up, but it did: somehow, in an instant, my brain turned into Dr. Sam Beckett's Swiss-cheese-right-after-a-leap brain.
It was Sunday, not Monday.
Now, I've mentioned before- and probably more than once- that I often will ask Jennifer what day it is. This, however, was the first time that I've gone through the day believing that it was a weekday rather than a weekend day. Jennifer found the whole affair quite amusing, and in retrospect I suppose it was. But for me, the thirty seconds or so after that revelation were disorienting- it weirded me out more than a little, to be completely honest. Scoring an extra twenty-four hours is cool, to be certain. But- and this is a big "but"- my reality changed. Not in a bad way... more like an odd, momentary lapse into the indescribable... I was in The Twilight Zone. Not Golden Earring's Twilight Zone. Rod Serlings' black and white Twilight Zone. And I couldn't change the channel.
I've got nothing else. The memory of the event already has developed that soft patina that time is kind enough to paint onto events such as this. On the plus side, there's no lightning bolt scar on my forehead.
Before I forget: some small news on the I.T. front. Not really data related, but this past Monday I got to actually do some programming at work: I got to run a job, start to finish. This made me quite happy, as my nights are generally filled with doing all sorts of important stuff, but most of which has little to do with my actual title!
As always, I am hochspeyer, blogging data analysis and management so you don't have to.
Saturday, March 29, 2014
Drivers
I'm something of a fan of words that have multiple meanings. Being involved with technology for some time has made me cognizant of the idea that just because one hears a word like "scanner", one doesn't necessarily know what is going on, unless one has a bit more contextual evidence. A regular reader may recall I've used the scanner example before, so today I'd like to relate an epiphany I had while driving to work recently, and another one of "those" words- namely, "driver".
Let me, for starters, say that I know that a driver is a golf club of some sort. This should tell you immediately that I have very little understanding of and absolutely no interest in playing or watching golf, so I may have suddenly become a pariah to some. In fact, my indifference towards golf is so great (is it even possible to have "great indifference") that I didn't even Google this club. The game itself has a fairly rich history, but I've often wondered which came first, the game or scotch whisky* (Scotland being famous for both). Per wikipedia, whisky came first. This helps me understand why a game would be known for eagles, birdies, sand traps, water hazards, mulligans, plaid shorts, and Bill Murray. Another sort of driver is a tool, of course- screw drivers, nut drivers and pile drivers come immediately to mind. And then, there are the big wheels on a steam locomotive which actually move a train- these are also called drivers.
*For American readers: apparently in most parts of the world, this beverage is not spelled with an "e". For readers outside of the United States, we spell it thusly: whiskey.
Yet another sort of driver is a business term- a factor to be considered, I suppose, when analyzing a situation, such as, "Recent unrest in the Semiautonomous People's Democratic Republic of Somethingorother has been a driver in the sudden spike of organic widget prices".
Something more familiar to my "tech-savvy" readers would be a software driver- that piece of software which tells a computer how a particular piece of hardware should operate. Printers are a good example of hardware that needs special drivers, dependent upon the manufacturer, model, etc.
But- as is my custom- all of those were teasers to allow me to present you with the definition which I'd like to discuss: the driver- as in, the person who operates a vehicle. Even here, though, we're going to run into some variety. For example, I believe in British English, the person who operates a railway locomotive is called a driver. However, I digress.
It seems that we're pretty much done with snow for this season, so I've started driving the Escort again. At one time, this vehicle was the most popular car in the world, mainly because it was relatively inexpensive. Being inexpensive, there are seemingly lots of things not to like about the Ford Escort, but the longer that we've owned this particular vehicle, the more I've come to like it... even some of the things which were initially negatives. For starters, this car is NOT quiet- the driver hears and feels everything from the outside (and underside). After a number of years of watching televised motorsports, I have decided that this superficial negative is actually a positive... what some might call noise or vibration I now count as feedback (data). The manual transmission is also very smooth; 1st gear is especially long (I can typically hit 30 mph [48kph] without having to upshift; I think when accelerating quickly, 2nd is optional and can be skipped entirely). Its also pretty low to the ground, and therefore railroad crossings and potholes need to be gingerly negotiated. The upside of this is that, because the car also ha a pretty low center of gravity and a decent height to width ratio, it takes corners with a confident nimbleness; the short wheelbase also contributes to the overall feeling of maneuverability.
And all of this car talk brings brings me back to the idea of "driver". My commute to work is not a long one- according to an article I read today, Chicago has the second-highest average commute time in the United States, at around 34.1 minutes (one way). My usual one way time is generally around eight minutes; if all the traffic signals are in my favor and traffic is light, its generally closer to seven minutes. What's interesting to me, though, is the type of person I encounter on the trip. Going to work in the evening, I encounter more drivers, that is, folks behind the wheel who operate with skill and enjoy their vehicles; to them, the drive is not merely what happens between home and wherever they're going, its an enjoyable part of the day. More importantly, they're skilled- and predictable. The morning drive, conversely, is not pleasant. There are easily 4-5X more vehicles on the road, lots of large trucks and, if I get out really late, school buses. Most of the commuters are thinking about getting to work on time, their work schedule, and often talking on the phone (which is illegal in Illinois)- in short, they should NOT be driving. As I work in what is thought to be the largest industrial park in the United States, there are lots of loading docks and trucks making deliveries or picking up loads. I have the utmost respect for what these folks do and their skill, but they do block traffic. Schoolbuses... a thankless job performed by ladies (typically) who normally get around in minivans. Schoolbuses in the United States do not have seatbelts for the children, so the driver is also a part-time baby sitter. And buses stop everywhere.
I love driving... not so much commuting.
Hardly any data today, and nothing new to report on the database. I've actually done a small bit of data entry- I got some new music this week. All of the album titles and tracks have been entered, but the Music Recordings table has yet to be updated, partly because of an issue with the PC I usually use for this task. The Secret Underground Lair also welcome a new member into the family this week- an Asus netbook with Windows 7 Starter and Microsoft Office Pro.
As always, I am hochspeyer, blogging data analysis and management so you don't have to.
Let me, for starters, say that I know that a driver is a golf club of some sort. This should tell you immediately that I have very little understanding of and absolutely no interest in playing or watching golf, so I may have suddenly become a pariah to some. In fact, my indifference towards golf is so great (is it even possible to have "great indifference") that I didn't even Google this club. The game itself has a fairly rich history, but I've often wondered which came first, the game or scotch whisky* (Scotland being famous for both). Per wikipedia, whisky came first. This helps me understand why a game would be known for eagles, birdies, sand traps, water hazards, mulligans, plaid shorts, and Bill Murray. Another sort of driver is a tool, of course- screw drivers, nut drivers and pile drivers come immediately to mind. And then, there are the big wheels on a steam locomotive which actually move a train- these are also called drivers.
*For American readers: apparently in most parts of the world, this beverage is not spelled with an "e". For readers outside of the United States, we spell it thusly: whiskey.
Yet another sort of driver is a business term- a factor to be considered, I suppose, when analyzing a situation, such as, "Recent unrest in the Semiautonomous People's Democratic Republic of Somethingorother has been a driver in the sudden spike of organic widget prices".
Something more familiar to my "tech-savvy" readers would be a software driver- that piece of software which tells a computer how a particular piece of hardware should operate. Printers are a good example of hardware that needs special drivers, dependent upon the manufacturer, model, etc.
But- as is my custom- all of those were teasers to allow me to present you with the definition which I'd like to discuss: the driver- as in, the person who operates a vehicle. Even here, though, we're going to run into some variety. For example, I believe in British English, the person who operates a railway locomotive is called a driver. However, I digress.
It seems that we're pretty much done with snow for this season, so I've started driving the Escort again. At one time, this vehicle was the most popular car in the world, mainly because it was relatively inexpensive. Being inexpensive, there are seemingly lots of things not to like about the Ford Escort, but the longer that we've owned this particular vehicle, the more I've come to like it... even some of the things which were initially negatives. For starters, this car is NOT quiet- the driver hears and feels everything from the outside (and underside). After a number of years of watching televised motorsports, I have decided that this superficial negative is actually a positive... what some might call noise or vibration I now count as feedback (data). The manual transmission is also very smooth; 1st gear is especially long (I can typically hit 30 mph [48kph] without having to upshift; I think when accelerating quickly, 2nd is optional and can be skipped entirely). Its also pretty low to the ground, and therefore railroad crossings and potholes need to be gingerly negotiated. The upside of this is that, because the car also ha a pretty low center of gravity and a decent height to width ratio, it takes corners with a confident nimbleness; the short wheelbase also contributes to the overall feeling of maneuverability.
And all of this car talk brings brings me back to the idea of "driver". My commute to work is not a long one- according to an article I read today, Chicago has the second-highest average commute time in the United States, at around 34.1 minutes (one way). My usual one way time is generally around eight minutes; if all the traffic signals are in my favor and traffic is light, its generally closer to seven minutes. What's interesting to me, though, is the type of person I encounter on the trip. Going to work in the evening, I encounter more drivers, that is, folks behind the wheel who operate with skill and enjoy their vehicles; to them, the drive is not merely what happens between home and wherever they're going, its an enjoyable part of the day. More importantly, they're skilled- and predictable. The morning drive, conversely, is not pleasant. There are easily 4-5X more vehicles on the road, lots of large trucks and, if I get out really late, school buses. Most of the commuters are thinking about getting to work on time, their work schedule, and often talking on the phone (which is illegal in Illinois)- in short, they should NOT be driving. As I work in what is thought to be the largest industrial park in the United States, there are lots of loading docks and trucks making deliveries or picking up loads. I have the utmost respect for what these folks do and their skill, but they do block traffic. Schoolbuses... a thankless job performed by ladies (typically) who normally get around in minivans. Schoolbuses in the United States do not have seatbelts for the children, so the driver is also a part-time baby sitter. And buses stop everywhere.
I love driving... not so much commuting.
Hardly any data today, and nothing new to report on the database. I've actually done a small bit of data entry- I got some new music this week. All of the album titles and tracks have been entered, but the Music Recordings table has yet to be updated, partly because of an issue with the PC I usually use for this task. The Secret Underground Lair also welcome a new member into the family this week- an Asus netbook with Windows 7 Starter and Microsoft Office Pro.
As always, I am hochspeyer, blogging data analysis and management so you don't have to.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)