helping a friend

Yesterday the family went over to a friend's apartment to clean. About two years back, my friend met this girl online. It's my experience successful online relationships are few and far between. When he told me about this girl he met, the first words out of my mouth were; 'Are you sure it's a girl?'
Yeah, I'm just a tad bit cynical.
He was sure, and actually flew out to Poland to meet her. Apparently they hit it off because she is flying here and staying with him for two months. So last week, he basically begged all his friends to help him out.
'She's coming OMG! I gotta get my place cleaned up. She can't see me like this!'
Typical bachelor pad. If the health department saw his bathroom, the place would be shut down and sprayed for decontamination. About half a dozen other people showed up to help out. We moved half the furniture out and the other half moved aside so we could vacuum the rug.
When we started, there was so much flotsam one could barely move in the apartment. One small corridor existed from the front door to the bedrooms, kitchen and the front door. If you wanted to go from the bedroom to the kitchen, you had to go to the front door first. 
We were making a bit of noise and I was informed that the roommate was resting, to which I replied: 'If he comes out and gives my girls a hard time, I'll let my middle daughter rip him a new one. Any pieces that survive will answer to me. Later on I met the roommate and he was pretty cool.
Putting on my best tough guy face, I told him point blank: If my girls ask you for something, such as sponges or bleach. Get it for them. Try not to cry when they throw stuff out. Indeed, there were old boxes from the wide screen TV he bought months ago. Walking into that place, I felt like Gordon Ramsey looking at one of the worst kitchen nightmares. I then made two trips for additional cleaning supplies. Afterward, another guy and myself unclogged the vacuum cleaner. As long as I live, I will never see a hairball that big... ever. Seriously, it was the size of a volleyball. 
This needs to be put in perspective. Those who know me and have seen my house can attest it isn't the neatest patch of Texas. I'm not a complete slob, but I'm no neat freak. Usually I hit the middle ground. Not the best I can be, not the worst either. Compared to my buddy, you could perform surgery in my house.
Trying my best not to come down on him for letting it get that bad, I instead tried looking for the silver lining. My friend reached a point where he could no longer live like he was. He was reaching out for help. Plus, there's a girl involved. He wants to improve himself to make the best impression. Deep down I hope we gave him a good start. At least I didn't call hoarders on him.
When we left, he had discovered he had about 10 square feet more apartment after we threw out, condensed and packed stuff that was laying about.
You'd be amazed at what you find when you straighten and clean.
My friend is sort of like a little brother to me. that said, I'm going to straighten out my place before guests arrive in a few days. I'm not sure it's a pecking order, or trying to see who's better, but I'm taking this to the next level, at least for a little bit.

Compromise

For a long time now I've noticed the polarization of the issues that surround us. The mindset that 'I'm right and everyone else is wrong' pervades our culture. We see it every day. Conservative, Liberal. Republican, Democrat. Pro choice, Anti-choice. 2nd amendment activist, gun control advocate. One side has to be 100% right, and to hell with the facts.
Being moderate doesn't mean I'm being spineless or waffling. I can actually see people, even the lunatic fringe, may have a point. It might be a small concession or a fundamental mindset.
Take gun control. I believe we have a right to buy a gun for defense or protection, even to go hunting.
There's no reason a person needs to own an automatic weapon. I wouldn't want to hunt a deer with an AK-47. Not only does it seem like overkill, I'd be picking bullets out of the venison I was trying to cook. I wouldn't want to bite down on some juicy backstrap only to crack a tooth on a shell fragment.
There's no logical reason for that.
There was an ad I saw recently, let's see if I can find it. 
(Engage Google-fu.)

Ammosexuals maybe?

There it is in all it's glory. This whole thing is aimed at men who have inferiority complexes. What I got from this is you need to buy this in order to feel like a man.
Here's the wake up call: if you feel like you're not enough without a gun, you'll never be enough with one. 
Nine times out of ten there is no need to kill someone. And that tenth time? It doesn't have to be with a gun.
A trained, responsible gun owner is a good thing. Background checks are a good thing. Keeping guns out of reach of little hands is a good thing. All of these things are good, but there is another life rule from your Uncle Will:
There isn't a test that people can't get around.
Let's say your are a retired marine gunnery sergeant. You have in your possession a couple of rifles that you are fully trained in the use of. I see no reason why you shouldn't keep them in your collection.
Now Bubba who works at the Texaco down the street and has a bit of a drinking problem should not be allowed near a loaded water pistol, let alone a semi-automatic. Trained. Responsible. Owners. Not someone who thinks owning an AK-47 bestows sexual prowess with the opposite sex.
Men, take a look at yourself in the mirror. Do you consider yourself a man? Would an assault rifle strapped to your back prove you're a man? Here's a hint: The person that stands up to you, unarmed, is more of a man. Walking into a department store with a rifle on your back doesn't make you a man. It makes you a bully with a loud stick and a small penis.
Confession time: At one point I was able to forge both my parents signature so well, I could fool them. I never needed to use that particular talent. (That permission slip for a field trip in seventh grade didn't count.) But you see the point I'm trying to make? If I were a shade more delinquent and didn't possess a decent moral compass, I could have done some serious damage.
There are people out there who think might (and firearms) make right. It doesn't make your little rifle any bigger. No penis pump is going to help that.

Book publishing blues

An article describing the corporate history of book publishing caught my eye. It's an eye popper and makes the cynic in me feel justified for wanting to go off and do this solo without anyone's help.
One side of me thinks that's a poor attitude. When I say 'anyone' I mean a publishing company with a marketing department.
Writing as a creative process is a healthy way for me to find release. Finding out about CreateSpace for self publishing was a mixture of research and luck. Having a novel ready to go was good, but getting it into a decent sized format was slightly less painful than a root canal.
A friend who  bought my book ended up with something she didn't intend, a coffee table tome that takes two hands to turn a page. Ashamed and frustrated, I attempted to make things better. I still don't know if I succeeded. The size of the book is better, whether words are cut off in the margins remain to be seen. I think I squeezed them in. Do the chapters all start at the top of the page? Not all of them. That's one wrinkle I couldn't get fixed. It's not the way I want things to work. Not the way I want it to be. In a perfect world I'd write and send my work off to someone who would sweat the details such as distribution and marketing and making all the margins behave themselves. About the only good thing about self publishing is I can buy my own book and take them to places to sell. The main thing stopping me is that I've run the numbers. I wouldn't make any money off such a venture. I'd have to write three or four books before I start to see any cash.
See? I'm marketing my own wares. That's not a bad thing, in and of itself, but it takes away from putting out more writing. It's the old catch .22, you have no time to write because you're promoting what you wrote, it's a vicious cycle.
Strangely, now I know how George RR Martin feels. He spent years writing about Westeros and Game of Thrones before HBO made it the juggernaut it is today. The show is almost up to Martin's latest book. In all deference to George, he has very little time to write. Between interviews and appearances and signings, a hit television show may have to go on a little hiatus to allow him to finish what he started.
This may be oversimplifying things, but here goes: Let's say the Martin writing machine is a car. Top speed 35 mph. HBO with it's greater speed and buying power can go 180 mph. Even though George got a few years head start, producers, directors, and film companies have caught up to him.
He had to have a meeting with the producers and put an outline of what he intends to happen for the hit show. In short, Martin had to tell them how to pass his little 35 mph vehicle and still end up at the same destination. What could possibly go wrong?

Crises

My father in law is going into hospice tomorrow. He has stage IV cancer and has been holding himself up pretty well. Under the excuse of he doesn't want to worry anyone, he doesn't let his family know. We only find these things out when we call, but that's a touch and go situation. In a perfect world, I'd fire up the Lear jet and have a rental waiting for the family when we get to Florida.
Reality intrudes. I feel a tiny bit guilty for moving so far away from her parents. I like them, I truly do. My wife was very close to her father, moving away put a strain on that. We can make all the arguments we want. The jobs. Following our dreams. Raising our kids. At times I wonder if I made the right choice by moving away. 

Now that I've returned home from work, I've gotten a few more details. He's been in the hospital since the beginning of the month and we just recently found out. He has refused treatment and is choosing to go to a hospice tomorrow. He has internal hemorrhaging and is loosing blood as fast as they can replace it. Brave man that he is, my father in law has said 'enough'.
Few of us can choose our time. I'm lucky to have known him for the time I did. My wish is that he gets the peace he's been searching for. Funerals are for the living and if money were no object as I said, we would both go. My daughters want to remember their grandfather as he was. They do not wish their last memory of him to be bedridden and hooked up to life support. That said, they would wish to pay their respects, as would I.
We're looking into a couple of options and if we're only able to send one person, then that would be my wife. She deserves this. 

ad ware, mad ware

In preparation for my oldest leaving for college, I installed Skype. Surely I'd iron out any bugs that presented itself. Then the pop up ads came out of  nowhere. Every time I'd mouse over a link, an ad that had nothing to do with whatever I was reading.
When I clicked on a link about NASA's budget, I'd get travel information about tours to see the Great Wall of China. We're a little past six degrees of separation here folks. Then I noticed they were all coming from the same place. I believe it was called Ad hen. Well, they were certainly henpecking me. Turning to my control panel like a novice geek, I went in search for something from Ad hen to uninstall and remove, which I did. Now for some reason I can't log on to Facebook from the Windows side of this machine. In order to check Facebook, I have to log into the Linux partition and proceed from there.
Hmm... I smell a rat. Updating my virus protection and Mal ware programs yielded no results. Well, cleaning up my computer is always a plus, but Facebook still times out. Sigh, there's always Ubuntu.

I missed what?

It's been a rough week here at stately Southworth manor. Now that the eldest is graduated.(and going out to the movies with a friend.) The youngest one is with her Alaskan Grandparents. We had a last dinner together with the English Grandparents last night and said our heartfelt goodbyes. They're currently on their way back to the UK, I hope they have a safe journey.
In the hustle and bustle of day to day life, I noticed there was something missing. (No, not the posted updates, but I promise I felt bad about missing them.) Having the weekend off and spending time with family... more importantly not being in town. It was a mini vacation. After work I hopped on the freeway, my duffel bag packed with a change of clothes and swimsuit. For 24 to 36 hours, I forgot about the work grind. The pressure was off (or at least turned way down.) We actually got some tubing down the river in. The water was a bit low, but we had a good time. Simply sitting there in the river cooled you down immensely. Okay, that was the third time I've come out of the river sober. Hope that isn't a trend.
Each time I go tubing, I get ideas to make the next trip better. Of course it would also help if I remembered it all when I needed it. Right now I'm kicking myself in the head for not bringing sandals or my water shoes.
This is what I'd like to bring about the next time I need a get out of town weekend:
I'd like for my friends to be with me. Don't get me wrong, I love seeing family and relations, but it reminded me of two people who are the closest thing I have to brothers on this half of the globe. I would find a way to make this happen. Of course it would be downright hysterical to see Nick tubing down the river. Not only would I make the beer, but I'd put it in plastic bottles so we could take it on the river.
We'd see about setting up a week where we could get together. Inner tubes and the beverage of choice in a cooler tied to another tube.
One other thing I forgot: I didn't think to take pictures.

The next step

In 1950, Alan Turing, a British pioneer in the field of computer science, published a paper that said machines would be indistinguishable from humans when it was 'thinking'. Since that time, the paper known as the Turing test, took on several forms as computers evolved into mainstream society today.
The question arises: Do computers think? When is a machine self aware. Not only sentient, but sapient.
At the University of Reading a computer program successfully imitated a 13 year old boy. It did this by engaging in a 5 minute keyboard conversation (read: chat/ text message.) with a set of human judges.
33% of them thought the program was an actual human being.
Mark this date my friends. Artificial Intelligence became that much closer to reality.
The first question I have is this:
Is it real intelligence or simulated intelligence? Very soon I believe the answer may be a moot point.
So my next question:
How will we treat this new form of intelligence?
I had to erase what I was going to write because my definition would have been wrong.

As much as I want it to be, it won't be a new life form. To be considered sentient as well as sapient, three criteria must be met.

1.  It must be self aware as well as aware of it's surroundings
2.  It must able to reproduce
3. It must be able to take energy from it's surroundings and convert it into sustainable energy

 People argue that the organism must have DNA in order for it to be alive. That may be true for biological organisms, but not artificial life.

I'm keeping an open mind. As we push the envelope of human understanding, it is my hope we understand ourselves better.

  

Graduation

No tears were shed last night as I watched my oldest walk the aisle to get her diploma. There was never a question she would graduate. That she did so with honors pleases me even more. Several parents that I first met twelve years ago were also present. Congratulations went all about, but the emotion most felt was relief. Our kids made it through the public school system relatively intact. My wife and I were active with the PTA and extra curricular activities and will continue to be with our younger children.
Not once have I thought public education was the be all, end all. Instead, I felt school should be a supplement to what is learned at home. To that end, my kids are what people refer to as 'street smart'.
As we walked out of the arena, I spied a man dressed as Batman. At first I thought it was funny, but there was another motive.
The AC went out at the AT&T center next door, a clear attempt at sabotaging the NBA finals by the Joker.  

Que?

A couple of things showed up on my radar that were simply... ehh?
There was a prisoner exchange that made the news.
That link was from the Washington Post so I consider the source 'trustworthy'.
My first reaction to all the spin doctors and talking heads was this: It's too soon.
Despite what people say, I'm withholding judgement on the man. He is an American. Did he do something stupid? Maybe. I'll let others decide. Would have I done the same in his shoes? I don't know because the facts aren't in. No one has interrogated or debriefed him. Lies go around the world before the truth gets out the door.
Anybody with a breaking story I treat with cynicism. 7 times out of 10 these same news sources are issuing a retraction later on.
In this world where we need to have news fast, the fact checking gets skimped. Fox counts on that. Every day I hear how news isn't like it used to be. Perhaps I look at it differently.
Take Walter Cronkite, the most trusted man in America. He read the news and that's the way it is. People as a whole didn't see the time lag. A foreign dignitary gets assassinated in the Baltic region, there was a certain amount of delay. Facts and sources got double checked in time for the six o'clock news. Walter looked good, America got informed.
So now CNN is broadcasting 24/7 and the time between happening and reporting is nonexistent. Retractions that were once a big sin in broadcasting, now they're almost commonplace.
Perhaps this is a sign I'm getting old. I don't need my news fast. I demand my news accurate. Take a day or 36 hours to get the facts straight. Afraid of getting scooped? What would you rather be: first or correct?
Bottom line: He is an American soldier. Bring him home.

Surprise

Sorry for the absence, but things were afoot. Besides the family descending for my daughter's graduation, my brakes decided to demand attention. With funds a little low and the knowledge of having done this once before, I set out to change the pads and rotors. If it was just that, the plan would have worked. Of course no plan survives contact with the enemy. Turns out the calipers, the cylinders that squeeze the brake pads, were the true culprit. Of course the other things needed to be replaced as well.
I ended up doing such a screwy job, my brother in law and I had to undo the damage. Of course, we wasted two days and tried to track down parts that didn't exist. I'm also pretty sure we ended up spending more than we intended, even with returning the items that didn't work. So now I'm using the old rotor, which I wanted to replace, new brake pads and new calipers. I very nearly lost the wheel while driving down to my sisters house because of a tiny piece that I didn't know existed until the day before yesterday.
My old cable provider took some money. Memo to me: break that contract. Then this morning Amazon prime took out over 107 dollars. I think I know what this is about and I can hopefully resolve this before the checks I wrote earlier hit the bank.
I'm not having a good week, and it just got started.
After taking a good look at Amazon, I cancelled a service that I didn't know I had and didn't need in the first place. Two clicks and the funds will reappear in my checking account in a few days. Whew! I damn near hyperventilated this morning when I saw the bank balance. I watch my money very closely because I don't trust the bank. That and I'm prone to forget something I charged or my wife wrote a check without telling me... Normal stuff.
Speaking of Amazon, the distribution center e-mailed me with a job  offer. The shift would be from 1800 to 0230. In non-military speak English:  6 PM to 2:30 AM. Now keep in mind I get up at 5 AM to go to work at my first job. There is no way I can work two full time jobs on 2 hours of sleep. Not without having a psychotic episode, and I'm sure we want to avoid that. If they had a part time position, say 4 to 6 hour shifts, I'd do that. I may average 4 to 5 hours sleep a night, but I'd do that for the short run. Long term that isn't healthy for me or anyone else. Cross me when I've had little to no sleep is a death wish, we all know that. I'm going to try and have something blogworthy up for Wednesday, promise.