Napoleon Dynamite

The disco era created the greatest archetype of schmarm with the open shirt, hairy chest, layered gold chains, permed hair but it’s still everywhere.

No arena is safe from schmarm.

You know it immediately, as soon as you’re introduced. Because before you can finish saying hello while your hand is still encased in the tentacles of schmarm you want to take a shower and scold off your epi and your dermis. It’s the used car salesmen aura.

This afternoon the part of the meeting minute taker was played by me while another tech writer was at another meeting for about an hour and a half. Diatribe on meetings to follow later.

The all male attendee meeting seemed happy for the change of scenery as I assumed responsibilities. And as I did the round of introductions there it was, schmarm in a 4’9” package.

This was choice, quality, grade A schmarm because at no additional cost, with just a, “Nice to meet you,” it come with arrogance and apparent incompetence. And an expression I like to reserve for the worthy: tool.

The juxtaposition of toolness and schmarm is a rarity. If only I had the opportunity to see him in action on ladies night. Oh wait, I’ve seen it, just not his particular brand.

Half way through the meeting amongst some geek squabble not worth documenting I look over and Mr. Schmarm is checking his match.com account.

For every bit of schmarm maybe there’s some dilution out there waiting.

And for every bit of work trying to get done there’s a tool.

Procrastinator's Credo

When talking about the aggressive schedule for us technical writers one of the bean counters allowed into the fold quipped, "Hey, if you wait until the last minute to get something done it only takes a minute."

Overhead at the Coffee Shop

Says the young preppy guy gushing on about a girl he's smitten with to girl behind the counter, "Well she went to a women's college so that makes her really smart and cool."

Evidence

Proof that The Red Baron was really shipped to California.

Spent Sunday afternoon in picteresque Southern California towns Laguna Beach (for the beach) and San Clemente (for the sunset).

Again!

Just received an email from my roommate that the second bike I purchased from Craigslist was stolen. There is no bike rack in the parking structure so I had it locked to itself, running the lock through the frame and front tire, thinking it would be enough of a deterrent. I thought wrong.

I a pod, You a pod, Everywhere an iPod

This birthday I wanted to be a hobbit more than ever. Not just so I could live in Jackson’s rendition of Bag End but because with one step closer to (gasp) 30 I really wanted to focus on all that was good in my life.

It was surprisingly easy to think of what’s going right. My times have changes – a testament that the next decade isn’t anything to fear at all.

And while I was busy waxing philosophical I was showered with ridiculously thoughtful presents from family and friends. I also treated myself to a trip to San Francisco, where I met up with a good friend where it was officially declared for all to hear, “I will live in San Francisco before I die.” We were so busy having fun that not a single shot was snapped of us together.

Upon my return what was waiting for me from my dear, oh-so-tech-savvy friends in Phoenixville, PA, but a brand new shiny, silver mp3 player. Not just any mp3 player, but yes, the Holy Grail of electronic consumerism, an iPod Mini.

Congratulations to Julie and Kev Duffy who achieved the rare accomplishment of rendering me speechless.

One of the many reasons I’m lucky to have them in my life is that Dr. Duffy is my personal Consumer Reports for all things tech. I tell him how much I have to spend, outline my needs and I have a trustworthy endorsement who stands nothing to gain, other than a few less phone calls to Duffy IT Support.

The little brown box arrived from Amazon.com to work and I immediately called the family Duffy the say thank you.

And Julie said, “Now you’ll have to get into podcasting.”

I think I mumbled, “Yeah” or something. Not really sure what she meant. All I could think of was creating a playlist for skating (which I’m still perfecting). My family isn’t tech savvy so the only personal podcasts I expected was more of her sons singing (I got a personal Happy Birthday song from Angus the Great) but now, quite accidentally, while listening to the World Café Archives, sitting there quietly above-the-fold it read: “Subscribe to our new podcast: World Cafe Shortcuts”.

And then since World Café is broadcast on PRI, I realized I can get podcasts for all sorts of programs on NPR that are illegal for me to stream at work. Of course, my coworker achieves this with a radio walkman and uses earth friendly rechargeable batteries, but he’s limited to the local San Diego NPR station.

But wait! A few searches yielded whole directories of podcasts!

Sadly, two of the shows I first searched for available podcasts, Prairie Home Companion and Car Talk, are only available through an audible.com paid subscription.

If I hadn’t been so behind the technical curve I would have bought an mp3 player while living in the fourth tier radio market known as Hawaii. In fact I think Apple should donate millions to the residents of the Aloha State because access to music and ideas are a necessity.

Brrrr

Currently the temperature is 68 degrees here in “America’s Finest City”, yes that’s actually the tag line of my current city of residence. The high today was an overcast 72 and if one more person tells me how cold it is . . .I’m not rushing to move back to the land of shoveling out your car in the winter but c’mon, hasn’t anyone heard of seasons? This isn’t a “season” but it is a change from the norm and that’s a good thing.

Be Careful What You Wish For

I was innocently bogarting the neighbor’s unsecured wireless network and there in my email inbox was an email from a web developer I met over a year ago in web userbility seminar (it pays to be friendly!) taught by userbility expert Kelly Goto.

The catchy subject line, “need some work?” grabbed my attention. And here I am, masterfully procrastinating writing copy for a Japanese travel site (I'm only required to provide content in English).

It’s a gorgeous day (not a hint of humidity and I’d guess 79 degrees) I want to ride my bike or skate, something.

Oh, right, I procrastinated ALL week (admittedly after my daily eight hours at The Man).