Red Sox Nation

In sports news: the Red Sox were swept from the play-offs. Good luck to any team trying to beat the dreaded Yanks. Say it with me, "Yankees suck! Yankees suck!" Thanks, I feel a bit better. In football news: the Pats lost. It was not a good weekend to be a Boston sports fan.

While I grew up playing sports - soccer, street hockey, a season of baseball, tennis, ping-pong, and a season of high school football - I was never a huge sports fan. I was never the kind of guy who could name players' stats, and I never had a poster of an athlete on my wall. I enjoy watching sports, but I don't know enough about any particular team, player or coach to support any other team but my "home" teams of New England. So even though I now live on the opposite coast, I still root for the Sox, Pats, Bruins and Celtics.

I care almost nothing for college- or high school-level sports and didn't while I was attending school, with the one exception being the ice hockey team of Boston College. It all started when a friend invited me to a hockey game while in my junior year. Up to that point I had been to several football games but had never attended a single other sports match. That year (1989-90) the BC Eagles were playing extremely well, and we were there amongst a sell-out crowd of boisterous (and probably drunk) co-eds all cheering on their team to victory. It was a great game, and it opened my eyes to how much fun I'd been missing by not attending those games. I don't think I made it to many more games that season, but I was there at every home game - and quite a few away games - during my senior year.

I was usually in attendance with my younger cousin Ray and his friend Jay. Jay was actually a year older than me and was originally friends with my older cousin, but Ray "inherited" him through their mutual love for sports. And, as it turned out, their mutual love for yelling highly-emotional and - at times - highly-inappropriate things at the games. I admit that my blood gets pumping when I watch sports, but the most I recall yelling was an extremely loud, "You got nothin!" at the opposing team. Ray, but Jay in particular, would yell things that embarrassed and sometimes even shocked me. The one example I can think of is when a player got hurt and was lying on the ice, Jay would yell, "Drag the body off the ice!" It was as if Jay had no sense of decorum, and nothing mattered but cheering the team on to a win...at any cost. In fact, if we called him on it, he would act as if we were at fault for being pussies. The other team was the ENEMY, and it was okay to wish - loudly - that they get hurt or worse. It was only a game? Not in Jay's book: it was life or death, and you were either with him or against him.

I bring this up, not because Jay was the exception, but because Jay's behavior foreshadowed what now seems to be the norm for life in America. We live in a country with two sides - the Republicans and the Democrats - and life is just one big sporting event. You are either on our side, or you're the ENEMY.

What if we have a problem that affects everyone like the environment or health care? Doesn't matter. If you're on the other side, I don't care what you have to say. In fact, I don't want you to even have the right to say it; I just want you to shut up. Anything you have to say will simply be wrong and probably hurtful to my side. "The Republicans suck! The Republicans suck!"

Politics has become sport, with the only losers being us, the public.

The house has officially been painted - or at least, the first coat. Partner had a plan to spackle the shingles which had been scraped to bare wood, but that didn't happen before the nice weather ended. If we get a couple of nice days in a row, he might still do it, but I'm betting that we're going to leave it the way it is through the winter. The colors look nice, and if you squint, it looks fine.

Painting the Dollhouse

Partner and I are finally getting home improvements started. This past week we officially hired a contractor who will replace all the windows and do a small addition on the back of the house. He will also put in some French doors so we can more easily get to the deck. This last improvement is part of Partner's master plan to make the deck into a nice place where we can host guests and not be embarrassed.

Most importantly, we have also started painting the outside of the house. Up till this week it's been a dingy yellow with peeling paint. Now it's a latte color (tan) with a soft, grayish-green trim around the windows and a dark brown/purple accent. (The actual name of the accent color is black bean, and it resembles that quite well; in the can it looks like a very dark purple - exactly like the liquid in a can of black beans. Once it dries, however, it's hard to tell if it's purple or brown.) Today I did the front door all in the accent color, so it really draws the eye - which is good considering the fact that the house looks like it has leprosy. Which is to say that, although Partner did an admirable job power-washing the walls and trying to remove the peeling paint, many of the shingles still have paint that is half hanging off. Where the peelings were taken off, those shingles still look kinda shabby under the one coat of tan. Our goal is to put primer on those shingles that are half-peeled then cover them with another coat of the tan. A couple of weeks ago I would've said that was a pipe dream, but considering all the hard work we've been doing lately, I'd say it's now a possibility. (Forgot to mention: we weren't able to do the best scraping job on the shingles because that dingy yellow paint is lead-based, and we don't want to release all that lead dust into the air. Partner has been doing a great job collecting all the shavings that have come off so far.) Tomorrow and Monday are supposed to be fairly nice days, so more painting for us!

I had a "two worlds collide" kind of moment this past week at EarthShare, the company I volunteer for. One of the gals who work in the office asked me - apropos of nothing - if I were a big Wonder Woman fan because there was going to be some kind of event happening at the Excalibur comic book store. I said, "No, but I bet I know the guy who's putting it on." Sure enough, a family acquaintance (not close enough to be called a "friend," really) Andy Mangels is running the show. Isn't it weird when two different parts of your life intersect like that? And by the way, who knew there were that many WW fans in Portland? And the most important question of all: why did Joss Whedon stop writing the script for the movie?

Speaking of Joss, we were at a friend's place the other night, and he showed us the unaired series finale of Dollhouse which came in the blue-ray dvd set. It was so good, I almost wish the series had ended just so more people could've gotten to see that episode. It was a great reminder at just how wonderful TV can be.

Post Script Redux

The on-going quest to fix the hard drive comes to a conclusion...sort of.

I brought the unit with me out to the bar on Friday evening. As I had hoped, I ran into Walt before he had a chance to leave. He looked at the hard drive for about 30 seconds and realized that the connector which had been giving everyone so much trouble was actually just an adapter attachment that came off! Underneath that was simply a standard 42-pin connector which would work with the unit at Radio Shack. Progress could now be made.

Saturday I went to Radio Shack, went to the wall where the adapter was, and...it wasn't there. I started to have heart palpitations when I realized that - in just a couple of days - the store had been thoroughly rearranged. A salesman came over to assist, but I tried to drop several hints that I wanted to be helped by the same guy who helped me twice before. When this sales guy couldn't find what I was looking for, he finally called over the other one. He grabbed it, made sure it was what I needed, then rang it up and sent me on my way.

Sunday afternoon I went to Walt's. I brought the laptop hard drive in its new case assembly, and I brought an external hard drive which I had bought at Fry's within the last year. The idea was simply to transfer everything from the laptop hard drive to one of Walt's computers, then transfer the data out to my external hard drive. Simple, unless the laptop hard drive was in some way corrupted or otherwise broken.

Since I can't (and don't want to) remember everything that happened next, I'll condense the action. We proceeded to plug in the laptop and external hard drives to each of Walt's three computers, only to wait for long stretches of time with nothing happening - or worse, with things happening that we couldn't explain. Finally, by process of elimination, we came to the conclusion that the external hard drive was in some way corrupted, and this was causing most/all our problems. (I think I only backed up iTunes songs on the external hard drive, so I have no idea why it should have a problem.) After hours of being there, I ended up taking my laptop hard drive home and plugging it in to my other laptop, at which point it commenced to work. If I had only known which unit to pull out of the laptop, and that the hard drive itself had a removable adapter, and that the part I needed was at Radio Shack, and that all I had to do was plug it into my other computer, I would've saved myself lots of time, energy and gas. Ugh.

At this point, I haven't been able to get everything from my old computer. But assuming that it might work without problems, I now have a 70gig hard drive attached to my laptop. I'm just hoping it'll be worth all the trouble...

Post Script

I brought the hard drive to Radio Shack. The same guy that helped me the other night was there again, so he kinda remembered what I needed. When he looked at the hard drive, he expressed doubt. The adapter that I needed was a closed unit; he wouldn't know it was the right one unless we opened it up. To his credit, he did without my asking. Sure enough, his doubts were justified: the adapters they carried would not work for the older hard drive that I had. Strangely, he recommended that I try Office Depot (really?) because they sell computers and might carry something like that.

Since Partner was sleeping when I left the house, I decided not to return home but instead drove to Office Depot. When I went in, the woman at the counter listened to the problem and told me that they don't carry anything like that. Really, just as I suspected.

I drove to the other side of Jantzen Beach and went to Best Buy. Once again I got good service from a helpful salesperson, but he seemed stumped by my hard drive. Finally, he showed me a closed unit which he said should fit what I needed. Unlike the guy at Radio Shack, this one would not open the unit, even though I asked. I ended up buying the unit, then I sat in my car and opened it up. Of course it didn't fit. I swear this hard drive will be the death of me! I put the unit back together and returned it to the store.

By the way, Walt's email that I so carefully tried to transcribe...doesn't work. I have to call him after all.

Check Yourself, But Don't Check Disk

My parents have an older computer (somewhere between 5-10 years, though I suspect it's closer to the latter), and lately it's been quite slow. When I was visiting their house in July, I decided to try and speed it up as much as I'm able. Now, I am in no way a technical person, but I felt that I should at least try because the real computer person - my brother-in-law - was always busy with the kids, or work, or whatever. I went online, did a search for the problem, and saw that I could do a couple of things to clean and free up space on the hard drive. I defragged the hard drive and ran check disk (disk check?) as the on-line advisor directed. Afterward, the computer seemed about the same; if not a little better, it was certainly no worse.

Back in Portland, I have a Toshiba laptop that Partner gave me. It too is older, but this one is closer to five years old. In the last number of months, it too has been acting slow and maybe as if it were infected with a virus, though the scans never detect any. When I returned home in August, I decided that I should use my new knowledge of cleaning the hard drive on this computer in hopes that it would solve the problem. Again, I defragged and ran check disk.

At some point after that, I went to turn on the computer, and the screen said that the hard drive was in imminent danger of failing. What?! My stomach dropped. This was one of those moments in every non-technical-person's life that you fear most. How could I back up the hard drive if it wouldn't even turn on? What happened (virus?) and how could I fix it?

Doing the only sensible thing, I unplugged the computer and told Partner. He didn't know what to do either (he's an Apple guy), so he suggested I call his friend and get his help. Partner ended up emailing him, but the friend - being busy and perhaps not fully aware of the extent of the problem - never committed to coming over. And of course, my being the great procrastinator that I am, took my time in confronting the problem head-on. I did email a local "computer guy" and told him the situation, but he said that it might take $200 or more for him to solve the problem. Yikes.

Finally, I called an acquaintance, Walt, who I knew was a musical techie (builds speakers, does keyboarding, etc) and asked him if he could help. He told me to remove the hard drive and put it in the fridge, because some people believe that the cold will help preserve the data. He then said that I'd need to attach the hard drive to a PC and extract the data. To do that, I'd need to buy an adapter, preferably one that ends in a USB plug, and I could possibly get it at Fry's (he saw it on their website). Walt was cagey about inviting me to use his PC for all this, but I basically invited myself over - contingent on my removing the hard drive and buying the adapter. I got his email address so I wouldn't again have to go through that uncomfortable conversation (he can't be cagey through email) but I was having a hard time hearing him. He kept saying the full address quickly, while I kept spelling it out. Finally satisfied that I was being annoying, I hung up the phone, went to the laptop, quickly extracted the hard drive unit, put it in a plastic bag and stuck it in the fridge.

Since it was Sunday and I was alone (having just driven Partner to the airport for his 3-day trip to Denver), I decided to take a drive down to Fry's and get the adapter. I thought about calling first to avoid a 40-minute wild goose chase, but why bother? It was on their website, and besides, Fry's is a big store which most likely would carry such an item. I packed the hard drive into a cooler bag and drove south.

In the store, I went over to the section I needed and scanned all the different wires and adapters. I didn't see what I thought I was looking for, so when the salesperson finished with the previous customer, I explained my problem and asked for his help. He took one look at the drive and said that they don't carry the adapter I needed. To be on the safe side, he asked another "associate" standing nearby, but he confirmed that they didn't have it. Ugh! Too stunned to press the issue, I walked away. So as to make the trip not a complete waste of time, I ended up buying three dvd's. Nothing assuages bad feelings like a little dvd shopping!

Back in Portland, I called the local Radio Shack and explained my problem. Doesn't it just figure that the store a mile and a half from my house had what I needed! Or rather, they had two different things, so I'd need to bring in the hard drive for them to see which one was right. Even though I had done my walking for the day, and even though I was getting hungry, I decided to walk over there in the evening and get the adapter. When I got there, both associates were helping other customers, so I hovered between waiting in line and walking around the small store looking for what I needed. (As an aside, I hate when sales people don't take into account who was next. With only three people in the store, you'd think they'd notice that I was waiting. One of the sales guys was helping his customer in another part of the store, when a fourth customer walked in. He stood by the counter and saw me waiting, so he went and stood by the sales guy. When he was done with his customer, he turned and asked the new customer what he wanted. I wanted to scream, "Hey, I was next!" That customer was an asshole, and the salesman was incompetent for not telling the guy he had to wait.)

When it was finally my turn (at least seven minutes after I got there), I told the guy my problem, he took a look at the hard drive and said, "That's not your hard drive, that's the dvd drive." Doh! I admit that I'm not technical, but really, even I knew that that's where the cd's went in. I don't know what I was thinking. At that point, being hungry, tired and a little pissed off, I just had to laugh. What else can you do? As I walked home it occurred to me: why hadn't the two guys at Fry's (Fry guys) thought of that?

Luckily, I ran into a friend about halfway home, and he gave me a ride the rest of the way. Later, I looked at the bottom of the laptop, decided which two screws to remove, and took out the hard drive (at least I think it's the hard drive). I don't know how much good it'll do, but I put it in the fridge. Tonight I'll head over to Radio Shack and see if it's the right drive and if they have the right adapter.

Here's the kicker: while I was on the phone with Walt, apropos of nothing he said, "By the way, never run Check Disk. It'll totally fuck up your computer. That's what happened to mine." Ooh...fuck. Now I know what probably happened to my computer, and I can only guess that I may also have caused my parents' computer to shut down.

Partner's advice: don't tell them.

Portion Control

Yesterday evening a friend had a small group of us over to his house for pinball, pizza and a movie. We chose Far From Heaven which was good in its way but was a complete downer as far as "party videos" are concerned. I brought a bottle of champagne, and Partner picked up a sampler cheesecake from the store. We all ended up drinking Capt & Cokes, so Rob kept the champagne for later. At the end of the evening, he made us take home the leftover cheesecake since no one else wanted to.

Fast forward to this evening's dinner. I made my usual (low sodium) vegetable soup with added chicken, garlic, onion, spinach, ramen noodles and hot sauce. It's cheap, easy and relatively healthy. While Partner was eating his bowl, he informed me that there was more in the pan for me to finish. I asked him if he got enough - or maybe if he didn't like it - and he said it was "portion control." The implication, of course, is that he's trying to get healthy and possibly lose weight by limiting the size of his portions. Great, right?

Later we were watching Rescue Me season one on dvd, and Partner helped himself to a bowl of ice cream with chocolate sauce. Hmm. I got up to make myself a cup of decaf coffee, and when I looked in the fridge for the soy milk, I saw the platter of cheesecake. Deciding to get myself half a slice, I put the platter on the counter and...that's when I stepped on something. I bent over and grabbed the offending crumb, which was a crumbly bit (nut? chocolate chip?) from the cheesecake. But, I hadn't even opened the platter yet. It was then that I realized that a whole piece of cheesecake was missing. Of course I realized what had happened, but I found it too funny to get angry about. Instead, I jokingly asked Partner about it.

"Guess what I just stepped on....A piece of cheesecake. How do you think that got on the floor?....Oh, so you had a piece after you got home from work?....Didn't you have dessert after dinner?....What was it you told me about not finishing a bowl of vegetable soup?"

That's right. In Partner's mind, he was being healthy by limiting his portion of vegetable soup and fresh spinach. On the other hand, he felt fine about eating a whole slice of cheesecake, taking a two-hour nap, and then eating ice cream with chocolate sauce for dessert.

Needless to say, I'll be using this for a long time. This saying has legs!