tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47852790263007417142024-02-18T19:08:48.211-07:00The Care and Feeding of NerdsNerds are about the most predictable creatures on the planet because we are, above all, creatures of habit. We don't like change (unless it's the new XBOX, or a faster processor) and we don't like risk (eBay makes me nervous). We just want our toys, three square meals a day, and to be taken out for a walk once a week.neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04574085585101270862noreply@blogger.comBlogger70125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4785279026300741714.post-54639898309137556832012-03-12T21:01:00.003-07:002012-03-13T08:01:52.483-07:00The Physics of a Four-Year-Old"When people spin, does it remind this planet we live on that it needs to spin?"neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04574085585101270862noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4785279026300741714.post-31998151482335776772012-02-27T12:00:00.001-07:002012-02-27T12:10:16.221-07:00Ow!<span style="TEXT-ALIGN: left; FONT-STYLE: normal"><span style="font-size:100%;">This is my baby girl.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5713577212372536898" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeXHA-jykAL_EZnmhSO3s4Z1HrXC_YmUctwWEfBK2AASKTgC_wT8Bz-m_4ltMDfuIr54mq2cX7wmURcloFneRFYvmpionMZnYaSZEqcaw2NLqNRE93rfeznVUcb6SOc11acRnO2ZCrhp0c/s400/IMG_1561.JPG" /><br />She's not so big on the talking thing. She will occasionally parrot words like "mama" and "dada" back to us but she doesn't <i>use</i> them. Lately, though, she has learned a word that she knows how to use. It's "ow!" I'm not really sure what that says about my family but it isn't flattering. How did I discover this word? I hit her in the head with a sock. This wasn't a malicious attack, it's a game we play when she happens to be around while I'm putting my socks on. In the past, when I'd whap her with a sock, she'd laugh at me. She had since learned, however, that the correct response to being hit was to say "ow!"<br /><br />This leaves me in a bit of a quandary. The general response to a child learning a new word is positive reinforcement. We get them to repeat it over and over to anyone who will listen. We make a video and post it on youtube. I can't imagine, though, that a video of me smacking my baby repeatedly with a sock while she says, "ow!" will get very positive reviews. Even if it <i>is</i> pretty cute.<br /><br />I guess I'll just have to teach her another word.<br /></span></span>neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04574085585101270862noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4785279026300741714.post-9154720127154107042012-02-26T08:10:00.008-07:002012-02-26T20:33:14.921-07:00Happle Pie<span style="font-style: normal; text-align: left; "><span style="font-size: 100%;">I love me some apple pie. The tart and sweet apples, the flaky crust, the warmth melting a scoop of vanilla ice cream... it's just so happy! I usually express my enthusiasm by lovingly inscribing the pie with a <a href="http://nerdcare.blogspot.com/2011/03/pie-steam-vents.html">fancy steam vent</a>. The problem with apple pie is that it takes so long to make - at least a couple hours - though I'm not really known for my speed in the kitchen.<br /><br />I decided one night that I really wanted some apple pie but I didn't want to spend hours making it. The most time consuming part of the pie is the crust but I thought that maybe I could whip up some apple filling really quick in a pyrex dish, slap a quick crust on the top and be done in 15 minutes. It actually took closer to 30 but it was still impressively easy and it was the perfect amount for two people.<br /><br />And, of course, it has a happy steam vent.<br /><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHQYQ0PpGRRnpXFgoI1cipS0PrK71g0d_bG4SdSl0_RdzGIF-eokyAOMWVxiB3HKeOT-7eLJCrNXkdJLN1EcFgu6wGZmq__0sQnaFhfhduiVDtnsSsQqJgIcTDp5Je16mCYzF3DU-SeDYL/s400/IMG_1526.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5713462258419244162" /><br /><br /><u>Filling:</u><br />(I'm not so good at quantities in my recipes so this is kinda vague. If that means you have to make five or six until you get it just right, remember that there are worse things in life than having five or six apple pies... like horseradish sauce.)<br /><br />2 medium sized apples peeled, cored, and sliced 1/4" thick (this will look like a lot but it cooks down)<br />1/8 - 1/4 c sugar<br />2-3 t flour<br />a squeeze of lemon juice if you've got it<br />a dash or two of cinnamon<br />a smaller dash or two of salt<br /><br />Mix all that up in the pyrex dish, and let it sit while you make the crust. Mix it up again when you're ready to put the crust on and then dot it with a tablespoon or less of butter cut into small pieces. Cover with the crust.<br /><br /><u>Crust</u><br />(I was more careful with these measurements because crust is easier to mess up and you <i>don't</i> want to mess up the crust.)<br /><br />Mix together:<br />1/4 c all purpose flour<br />1/4 t powdered sugar<br />dash of salt<br /><br />Cut in 1 mounded tablespoon of shortening with a pastry blender, stirring up the flour mixture until most of the mixture looks like coarse crumbs with some larger pea sized pieces.<br /><br />Drizzle 2 teaspoons of ice water over the mixture and cut with the blade of a rubber spatula until the dough is evenly moistened and begins to stick together. There should still be some crumbs that look dry.<br /><br />Gather the dough up with your hands and put it on one half of a piece of parchment paper. I usually smash it down with my hand and sprinkle some flour over the top to keep it from sticking (too much). Fold the other half of the parchment paper over the top and roll it out until it's the same size as your pyrex dish (I used a round dish ~7" at the mouth). The dough won't roll out in a perfect circle so cut off the bits that stick out and use them like puzzle pieces to fill in the circle. When the dough is the right size, peel off the top layer of paper and use the bottom layer to position it over the apple filling, peel the bottom layer off, cut your steam vent and stick it in a 425 degree oven. After 15 minutes or so, decrease the temperature to 350 degrees and let it bake for 30 more minutes until thick juices are bubbling out of the steam vents and around the edges and the apples feel tender when you poke them with a knife.<br /><br />Enjoy!</span></span>neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04574085585101270862noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4785279026300741714.post-4750612762336308732012-02-15T19:30:00.003-07:002012-02-15T19:51:00.230-07:00Valentine's Cards<span style="text-align: left; ">I have a friend who does </span><a href="http://www.halfphildproductions.com/" style="text-align: left; ">photography and other artistic sundries</a><span style="text-align: left; ">. Among his many talents is illustration. We made some Valentine's Day cards.</span><div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Card the first:</div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRrH7TvgtKvXoC-La9aDtJQtPBM5FklSgVM5o2KUj4Di9jL6jI2siuV_fHb7PWBM-qBCXf-cEpd0p0z_NniMwsJxe2dSzloekQBOLM08m1LUtkyb0yv5iN0xEhCm2R5tWS3bYfIHhPFpxU/s400/card+1+front.bmp" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709558986391069970" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 214px; " /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">-----------------------------------------</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXNUOZwgtbDI6mdnDLCZZJ2z0f_t9c65D5ejfKR4L8tGA_wQ9A3hBmTRhmfuU9kneLvDgyYQC3iubURULtcjyjvCMX2aAkC1hyp_NW4ARLg5TF_N-8jmgdIfZ0UVGUECoTM_UTRjjuggCL/s1600/card+1+inside.bmp"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXNUOZwgtbDI6mdnDLCZZJ2z0f_t9c65D5ejfKR4L8tGA_wQ9A3hBmTRhmfuU9kneLvDgyYQC3iubURULtcjyjvCMX2aAkC1hyp_NW4ARLg5TF_N-8jmgdIfZ0UVGUECoTM_UTRjjuggCL/s400/card+1+inside.bmp" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709558979844747714" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 248px; height: 400px; " /></a></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span><u><br /></u></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span><u><br /></u></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">Card the second:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 304px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwoxZH-v2Qr5b3-EBQQkcL1XOz0zSwMeVhV9bJmbYK4ScF0SPgP0YdRHeJiThPfUwquW1NquwofkARqTJZNNJDHB8RwMbq6CgE79RuPjoup72_bQN3_0tT3k8dmUQH9P2Nu3Y73DbiZTVV/s400/card+2+front.bmp" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709558977591988930" /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">----------------------------------------- </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 302px; height: 400px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0L2GvRWl-46p7mx6FjKlL-CwoItKA01LahhrH1AYv1zE9j1ehwhMYS456oh0nvwZsm3RzdxlkRSlSDIQw0mJYwGTyA20RFk9Tv0AURl-aH223Miba0f-5hJ-QY6RAXrvHqhzqDmVLYtt5/s400/card+2+inside.bmp" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709558971017461970" /></div></div>neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04574085585101270862noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4785279026300741714.post-63124308762337382022012-02-02T07:43:00.002-07:002012-02-02T07:54:00.393-07:00The King of Strange InjuriesI am profoundly skilled at injuring myself in strange ways. There is a running joke in my family that I will always injure myself playing football on Thanksgiving, leaving my wife to do all the cooking work. In an attempt to end that curse a few years ago, I didn't make any plans to play football. Instead, I managed to stab a sliver of metal from my belt buckle through my thumb nail. The end then broke off leaving it complete unremovable. I still have no idea how that happened but it left my thumb sore for the next month.<br /><br />In the sprirt of that freak occurence, I jammed my pinkie two nights ago. I jammed it against my own leg while I was trying to catch a falling bunch of asparagus.<br /><br />I deserve an award or something. Or maybe my wife does.neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04574085585101270862noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4785279026300741714.post-34762047581544342782012-01-27T09:26:00.002-07:002012-01-27T09:42:50.538-07:00They Pay You For That!?I am an electrical engineer. We come in many different flavors but my particular specialty is electronic circuit design. Lately, at work, I have been designing a new circuit and have been working on the schematics. At dinner last night, I was telling my wife that I have a review coming up next week and I was a little frustrated that at work that day, a change had been made to the requirements meaning that I had to update the schematics.<div><br /></div><div>My six year old daughter looked at me and asked, "What's a meschatic?"</div><div><br /></div><div>I explained, "A <i>schematic</i> is a drawing of an electrical circuit. It tells people how to make it so that electricity goes the way we want and does what we want it to do."</div><div><br /></div><div>I pointed at the light above us. "This light is an electric circuit. So is the computer. Some circuits are simple like this light and some are complex like the computer. I make complex ones that go in missiles."</div><div><br /></div><div>She looked at me with wonder in her eyes. "You draw all day at work!?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Yes. Yes I do.</div>neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04574085585101270862noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4785279026300741714.post-73704953596553101462012-01-24T16:40:00.001-07:002012-01-24T16:40:00.774-07:00This One's For You, Mrawmins<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNJs5rAP3zv3rfqh7Sbbzf6YHk_cVOjD6p6srEsgdi1S_PEFCrJ8UeZTAgwrpqgDD9E8-tvv9ddcTELfCAabAfw_JoaF3ne900DRS1vQ78VwShDINzf6DTF-JD23ar0G2JIbLcMdtLIIqf/s1600/IMG_1319.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700605912860191874" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNJs5rAP3zv3rfqh7Sbbzf6YHk_cVOjD6p6srEsgdi1S_PEFCrJ8UeZTAgwrpqgDD9E8-tvv9ddcTELfCAabAfw_JoaF3ne900DRS1vQ78VwShDINzf6DTF-JD23ar0G2JIbLcMdtLIIqf/s400/IMG_1319.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div>Found in a candy shop at the end of pier 39 in San Francisco. Let the gathering of Israel commence... in my belly.</div>neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04574085585101270862noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4785279026300741714.post-62979461210525043462012-01-22T16:28:00.002-07:002012-01-22T16:36:41.419-07:00Fire BabyI was burning up some old tree trimmings in the backyard when I looked up and saw this.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700603156373284002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPx2ROPUu2OZqRjEjTzJ_DzcileO8olJ2ByWccPbirMpQj5kEBoy5fySZsO_VocwSjQlkvUfNKRE7FcmepTFuIFlkd1g0bObntr2isGFvAz8Etasx7_fpT5eDuf-Br06LWXACHNkccrq_f/s400/IMG_1377.JPG" /> I don't think she brought a hot dog on purpose but I still think it's funny.neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04574085585101270862noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4785279026300741714.post-864330457472238402011-12-10T14:17:00.002-07:002011-12-10T14:33:25.142-07:00What Nerds Do Without TrucksA friend of mine needed help moving rocks this morning so I went over to help.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5F5vsgCcs-KMTySwiIRi0vSmIlV0ke6zQ6b9FLXiav7JXYBkNU2c3qQ0XmtxZ7t5bMFMvbFKBFdu8TDk4vVkNmeKdflOx87gdZBgaiMlMvV258p1i_-giZHu_WiycwiMJk3Re4z7EsheZ/s1600/IMG_1413.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684612313510843570" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5F5vsgCcs-KMTySwiIRi0vSmIlV0ke6zQ6b9FLXiav7JXYBkNU2c3qQ0XmtxZ7t5bMFMvbFKBFdu8TDk4vVkNmeKdflOx87gdZBgaiMlMvV258p1i_-giZHu_WiycwiMJk3Re4z7EsheZ/s400/IMG_1413.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div>Yes, that's a wheelbarrow.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Yes, it's on top of a bike trailer; I collapsed it.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>It may be hard to see but those are bungee cords holding it in place - we're big on safety around here.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>A lot of cars honked at me on my way over. They must have thought it was a really good idea too.</div>neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04574085585101270862noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4785279026300741714.post-41640366373759172432011-08-26T15:36:00.000-07:002011-08-26T15:36:37.385-07:00Emissions ExemptionI live in one of those rare but wonderful parts of the country that are exempt from emissions testing for car registrations (assuming you don't drive into the metro area north of here for school or work). We also don't have safety inspections. I'm not sure if all states do this now or not but we have online registration renewals too. This means that the yearly hassle of driving around at the end of the month to get the registration renewed isn't really an issue for us. We just go to the DMV website, type in our information, give them a credit card number, and they send us a new sticker in the mail. Easy as pie. In theory.
<br />
<br />You see, the northern tip of the zip code I live in is not exempt from emissions testing. And the criteria the DMV website uses to determine your requirement status? Zip code, of course. When I called the DMV to clear this up (silly me thinking it could be done over the phone) I was told that all I had to do was go in to a DMV office, fill out an emissions exemption form, bring in photocopies of my current registration, a utility bill, and my most recent property tax valuation, a pound of flesh, a lock of hair from my first born child and $9 to process the paperwork.
<br />
<br />Now, as a general rule, I try to be as polite and friendly as possible over the phone. I know that the level one operators have absolutely no power. They don't make the rules, they can't change the rules, and getting upset with them will get you nowhere. They deal with cranky people all day and the best way to get anywhere with them is to be nice. So, as nicely as I could, I tried to explain that I was sure that this couldn't be the solution to my problem. Surely all somebody really needed to do was look at the address I had on record (You know, the one you use to send me my registration renewal form? The one you used to figure out what zip code I live in?) and use the handy map (also on the website) to figure out that I quite clearly live outside the emissions control zone.
<br />
<br />That cheek earned me 30 minutes on hold waiting for a level 2 operator. Honestly, in 30 minutes, they could have given my level 1 operator level 2 operator training and I wouldn't have had to listen to the bad music and the interruptions every 30 seconds telling me that my call is important. All to no avail. DMV policy is that those who live in a partially covered zip code automatically get the requirement on their registration until they submit an emissions exemption form which becomes a permanent part of their registration.
<br />
<br />I just want to point out that this is why average people hate the government. It's annoying to see lawmakers bickering on capitol hill but we forget that pretty quickly (which is why we keep electing them). It's the little but constant irritations stemming from government bureaucracies and inefficiencies that really drive the angst. To start with, the DMV has my address on file. There is no reason for them to be in doubt about where I live. The DMV also has a fairly high fidelity map on their website so that visitors can see if they live in or out of the control zone. Why they can't use these tools at their disposal to determine <em>actual</em> emissions requirement status is beyond my ability to comprehend. Secondly, why on earth do I need to bring a copy of my current registration to the DMV to process an emissions exemption form? Isn't that the one thing they <em>should</em> have? My most recent property tax valuation and a recent utility bill? Really? I think we've already established that my address is no mystery. And even if I were to accept that they need to make absolutely sure I wasn't lying about my address, why is it that they'll just take my word on the fact that I don't drive the vehicle into the metro area to the north for school or work?
<br />
<br />The entire process strains credulity and makes my blood boil. But it's possible that it is still preferable to actually getting the emissions tested.neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04574085585101270862noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4785279026300741714.post-72947754575948626482011-06-06T05:11:00.001-07:002011-06-06T05:11:00.208-07:00Sushi!My wife doesn't like sushi. It's a shame since it means I don't get to eat it very often but at least it means I don't have to share. I decided a while back that I wanted some but I was stymied by not being able to find a rolling mat at the grocery store. The sushi hater finally said, "Why don't you just order one off of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00462R8SU">Amazon</a>?" Genius. Apparently, they sell <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0009HL7CY">nori sheets</a> too.<br /><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZKZspOqk8_tfm6nafD2JUqohGEr4124UTN9cztquTW6CX3hvIbBYVW5X7VYW_uei5BRk079PuT394uCMfLnkrZt7WQggw-2TbPd8DLmKqU4mnw76T7uxD7iT-iuKLvqW2Bizh8SYqscAy/s1600/IMG_0987.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614430053720847810" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZKZspOqk8_tfm6nafD2JUqohGEr4124UTN9cztquTW6CX3hvIbBYVW5X7VYW_uei5BRk079PuT394uCMfLnkrZt7WQggw-2TbPd8DLmKqU4mnw76T7uxD7iT-iuKLvqW2Bizh8SYqscAy/s400/IMG_0987.JPG" /></a>I like all kinds of sushi but when it comes down to it, it's hard to beat a good California roll.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_UETxIfrMf0br_4nP19Z8xsYhHE1pYPVzCup5Ev8eGpPA_F9Mq3wt3NILs44qiWhhRbSCJ7lz_9JTWjisZsTRuZQyo2Rm2b6sQxX3FjkZPUvXU4ZSCoKnE3j27COuethzdKmfDLbgJmOe/s1600/IMG_0988.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614430050292570162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_UETxIfrMf0br_4nP19Z8xsYhHE1pYPVzCup5Ev8eGpPA_F9Mq3wt3NILs44qiWhhRbSCJ7lz_9JTWjisZsTRuZQyo2Rm2b6sQxX3FjkZPUvXU4ZSCoKnE3j27COuethzdKmfDLbgJmOe/s400/IMG_0988.JPG" /></a>Only one of my children was brave enough to try a bite and she quickly decided it wasn't for her. My wife, to her credit did eat one, if only to verify that yep, she doesn't like sushi.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcJLxlhyphenhyphenGSS0SzM2HKVT0-2BD3qj4OyMA8DJbbrovw8fvuLv9MV_78tB6gFZ7n4i_6g_LI7SkxU45_aRv_vl9dMSlPKplOrPvUSlWotnYlySMkDx8ZPEBJqwD3pX0t_BkQugDLJm_fNn1Z/s1600/IMG_0991.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614430040503483266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcJLxlhyphenhyphenGSS0SzM2HKVT0-2BD3qj4OyMA8DJbbrovw8fvuLv9MV_78tB6gFZ7n4i_6g_LI7SkxU45_aRv_vl9dMSlPKplOrPvUSlWotnYlySMkDx8ZPEBJqwD3pX0t_BkQugDLJm_fNn1Z/s400/IMG_0991.JPG" /></a>But, then again, who would be sad about leftover sushi?</p><br /><br /><p>Luckily, I planned for nobody else wanting to eat any and got some pizza too.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuvRnpWEr3pjZv5BS9t7basZCSgi6wG-aj1x3btng6DQJ5wQQyEdO1NoIg6JPpEWDeBTx9GJ8P39Mh7owuEWv4XkcrZbmD8_3J_AzNRCasyAlhIsMaAaGSvlSKgA9UO5bkYm8zbSJPZk4e/s1600/IMG_0989.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614430037366930002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuvRnpWEr3pjZv5BS9t7basZCSgi6wG-aj1x3btng6DQJ5wQQyEdO1NoIg6JPpEWDeBTx9GJ8P39Mh7owuEWv4XkcrZbmD8_3J_AzNRCasyAlhIsMaAaGSvlSKgA9UO5bkYm8zbSJPZk4e/s400/IMG_0989.JPG" /></a>Pizza and sushi: not a bad combination, really.</p>neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04574085585101270862noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4785279026300741714.post-90237605154718903202011-06-04T11:07:00.003-07:002011-06-04T18:31:49.982-07:00Gyoza Fried RiceI made <a href="http://mcsheaston.blogspot.com/2010/10/oh-my-gyoza.html"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">gyoza</span></a> last weekend. It was a happy day. Midway through eating, my stomach started to hurt. So I kept eating until it went away. I made 52 <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">gyoza</span> and froze half so that I could have another happy day sometime in the future. There was, however, one dark cloud in my otherwise perfect <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">gyoza</span> filled day: I ran out of wrappers before the filling was used up. My eyes teared up at the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">gyoza</span> that would never be made. Never would the filling be warmly nestled in a wrapper, never would it be lovingly caressed by the hot oil that would give it a perfect brown crust. The weight of this culinary crime was almost too much to bear until the dark cloud broke, revealing the silver lining: I could save the filling and use it to make fried rice.<br /><br /><strong><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Gyoza</span> Fried Rice:</strong><br /><br />I had about a cup of leftover filling but any amount will work - fried rice is good like that.<br /><br />Heat a <em>generous</em> amount of vegetable oil in a frying pan/wok. Don't be shy <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">with</span> the oil since you need enough to fry the rice in as well. Toss in a carrot, half a medium onion, and a few garlic cloves, all finely chopped. When the onions start to brown, add the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">gyoza</span> filling and break it up into small pieces as it cooks. When the filling is cooked through, I put in a quarter of a chopped head of cabbage. (I had it left over from when I made the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">gyoza</span> and I though it would add some nice color and texture) Let the cabbage start to wilt and then dump in 4 cups of cooked rice (2 cups uncooked). I seasoned mine with soy sauce, rice vinegar, and ginger (get it, just like <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">gyoza</span>). Let the rice fry, turning occasionally until a crust starts to form on the bottom. Serve immediately and reminisce about the wonderful <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">gyoza</span> of days gone by.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1lEbf6LPerQYNmyv4JI8LdH6trFWe6RaL1oG8Yf4UzzNm7AiDtjudtgQ9sZqHpo8s_YpAjvaO8vlvIgzPVqTu7m4Nmd_6oh3_VMrtzKIUiTtopPlTq-Z4A0QA-S3KTLRErbDPmvWyE2Qc/s1600/IMG_0982.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614428733330720802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1lEbf6LPerQYNmyv4JI8LdH6trFWe6RaL1oG8Yf4UzzNm7AiDtjudtgQ9sZqHpo8s_YpAjvaO8vlvIgzPVqTu7m4Nmd_6oh3_VMrtzKIUiTtopPlTq-Z4A0QA-S3KTLRErbDPmvWyE2Qc/s400/IMG_0982.JPG" /></a>neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04574085585101270862noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4785279026300741714.post-24608675181641723212011-05-30T06:46:00.002-07:002011-05-30T07:42:54.056-07:00Fathers and Sons CampoutThe first time I went to a fathers and sons campout my son was only 10 months old, so I took my daughter instead. The next time, I took my son but he threw up on the way. This time, I put <em>Return of the Jedi</em> in the DVD player to distract fom the windy road and we arrived sans barf; it was the best fathers and sons campout yet and we hadn't even set up the tent yet.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4eiWt0YJiO96TxvECYzKi6VZ9xieCHuvaEzHmpl4vSfH6qKVXsS6ReMbPtfSgRl6nLikRPv0WfSH6S-AP4Ki3sPWS4eTkPBy9TOZYiEDcQ2I0g1gkqyDYALCf_RHDd8qa1rrPV3rFXlFW/s1600/IMG_0938.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609554506637711250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4eiWt0YJiO96TxvECYzKi6VZ9xieCHuvaEzHmpl4vSfH6qKVXsS6ReMbPtfSgRl6nLikRPv0WfSH6S-AP4Ki3sPWS4eTkPBy9TOZYiEDcQ2I0g1gkqyDYALCf_RHDd8qa1rrPV3rFXlFW/s400/IMG_0938.JPG" /></a>We camped at Camp Zion on Mt. Lemmon. It's got nice facilities, including pallets for tents, a mess hall, an amphitheatre and outhouses <em>with toilet paper!</em> The city of Tucson is right behind me in the above picture. The city lights were pretty amazing when we came back to our tent after the program.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmOAQuGiOlVTCnjFo9r41unHnOBIaZOayZbBlbMve6abnu_-9OkgnRONaEPnO8axEsjTIomhoKCSVCoEO7vQJ6XOheft8uVWnbZSDB1ZMrR0D24NBl3TFIWhuAwtUfjxgauU05elcudQUj/s1600/IMG_0927.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609553825536464178" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmOAQuGiOlVTCnjFo9r41unHnOBIaZOayZbBlbMve6abnu_-9OkgnRONaEPnO8axEsjTIomhoKCSVCoEO7vQJ6XOheft8uVWnbZSDB1ZMrR0D24NBl3TFIWhuAwtUfjxgauU05elcudQUj/s400/IMG_0927.JPG" /></a> Chubs was excited to sleep in his new Darth Vader sleeping bag. I was excited to sleep on an air matress.</div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic5__ffZLgxGXu1hYcmWDRqcYXCqwhLCaf7wLf-FmG71zPHF_voQMVw1ZH66cX9VwKMoSbiC3DBUuOLP8MrwSPQ7hf3Q9P9fTYuh0uREzYaweOd_r-BAe7cLoNz0EVA25fPtiTPRWUYnlP/s1600/IMG_0928.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609553811790965762" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic5__ffZLgxGXu1hYcmWDRqcYXCqwhLCaf7wLf-FmG71zPHF_voQMVw1ZH66cX9VwKMoSbiC3DBUuOLP8MrwSPQ7hf3Q9P9fTYuh0uREzYaweOd_r-BAe7cLoNz0EVA25fPtiTPRWUYnlP/s400/IMG_0928.JPG" /></a>The next morning, there were 15 carnival games set up for the boys. There was a ring toss, lawn darts, steer lassoing, a cross betweeen a battering ram and bowling, paper airplanes, a jumping castle, and several others.</div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8DLsSxzQdSFoVI4fgs7T4mVO3y2l3Y6zCeX-sMLL4xWfASBXj2BEuARlIcV6P5OdXp5OHpJRRXb5i0S1bAn52iYw2wV8dlIkSbbn06mxiev3mC3cjf5JUuHNMenZTyCoy8EVWbcUp7Qkk/s1600/IMG_0933.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609553802883261634" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8DLsSxzQdSFoVI4fgs7T4mVO3y2l3Y6zCeX-sMLL4xWfASBXj2BEuARlIcV6P5OdXp5OHpJRRXb5i0S1bAn52iYw2wV8dlIkSbbn06mxiev3mC3cjf5JUuHNMenZTyCoy8EVWbcUp7Qkk/s400/IMG_0933.jpg" /></a>Of course, walking around on a montain can be treacherous. The paved paths help but little boys aren't very good at staying on paths.</div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYIiD6Mectjg2mrnA2q6wLSLqZYGicSFE7vqbdY4s8VCOvq7VXA_TrCNmfTvaKJ9lo8K8QkR9GN-c3fU-2BlfTiwVaRNN6qO_1il3-KlpXnQ1e-4LRANOVDqb0K1eRsQlSDzQfg-LkGfjv/s1600/IMG_0936.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609553792360733394" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYIiD6Mectjg2mrnA2q6wLSLqZYGicSFE7vqbdY4s8VCOvq7VXA_TrCNmfTvaKJ9lo8K8QkR9GN-c3fU-2BlfTiwVaRNN6qO_1il3-KlpXnQ1e-4LRANOVDqb0K1eRsQlSDzQfg-LkGfjv/s400/IMG_0936.JPG" /></a> This is the sad face after tripping over some rocks.</div><br /><br /><div>The overwhelming favorite activity was the rockets. We made tubes of construction paper, taped a soda bottle cap on top, and added some fins for stability.</div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRwCpLwkGh7LEYuZ1j9Fpa6B1y-90MNtOXEgdp46iPPRaRMD5P8Ph8olYQ2w3k6aSWo7217g9Gbu6VjwmQfBDLNFm1qVPtC1q7ltmJMGb5aIhPHaiQSsWIUvU2VkvEXDKTmVnUjsNzqfdb/s1600/IMG_0934.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609553785514354850" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRwCpLwkGh7LEYuZ1j9Fpa6B1y-90MNtOXEgdp46iPPRaRMD5P8Ph8olYQ2w3k6aSWo7217g9Gbu6VjwmQfBDLNFm1qVPtC1q7ltmJMGb5aIhPHaiQSsWIUvU2VkvEXDKTmVnUjsNzqfdb/s400/IMG_0934.JPG" /></a> The launcher was a PVC frame with a tube coming off one end with a two liter bottle attached. Place the rocket on the pipe sticking up and stomp on the bottle.</div><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dx3RxgPXhP5DGrvu-epGScnvuYqMmcR_RovH6ntJaQW1jIYqNDP_BhvP_8gyDiBbXVL9Vm5MS9XqbnrvZrXMw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><div>It probably would have been one of the best fathers and sons campouts even if chubs <em>had</em> puked on the way up.</div>neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04574085585101270862noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4785279026300741714.post-84773608623475193262011-05-29T05:39:00.000-07:002011-05-29T05:39:00.955-07:00I'd Never Thought of it Quite Like That...From my three-year-old-son at the dinner table: "My water flushed the bread into my tummy just like the water in the toilet flushes the pee and poo into its tummy. Because toilets eat pee and poo."neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04574085585101270862noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4785279026300741714.post-71370389600141276842011-05-22T07:36:00.001-07:002011-05-22T07:38:16.446-07:00I Know My Son Loves Me Because..."We could put daddy in jail for the rest of his life. That would be stupendous!"neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04574085585101270862noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4785279026300741714.post-34808283894042140862011-03-26T21:16:00.004-07:002011-03-26T21:31:35.322-07:00A Long Time Ago In A Family Room Far Far Away...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTNPI3vWfUsk95ohqsGZF-dCQ7XZjTuiVA_IHPXw6qhGNpIAFm_a-UvRRaU9ouvXRhAbjTpXXSfzlE5YfZ9-BhXnyhbDVyDF4xO1eRw_fswExsDmukOc_FCgOFyY2yRVDhnOb9btcfC9eD/s1600/IMG_0739.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588609101283112354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTNPI3vWfUsk95ohqsGZF-dCQ7XZjTuiVA_IHPXw6qhGNpIAFm_a-UvRRaU9ouvXRhAbjTpXXSfzlE5YfZ9-BhXnyhbDVyDF4xO1eRw_fswExsDmukOc_FCgOFyY2yRVDhnOb9btcfC9eD/s400/IMG_0739.JPG" /></a><br />My kids love watching Star Wars.<br /><br />My kids love having lightsaber fights while watching Star Wars.<br /><br />My kids fight over who gets to be Darth Vader. (Usually whoever has the red lightsaber)<br /><br />They had a laser gun fight in the backyard yesterday.<br /><br />It warms my nerd heart.neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04574085585101270862noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4785279026300741714.post-20958130319669245222011-03-14T00:00:00.000-07:002011-03-14T00:00:02.856-07:00Fear the Pi<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZAmaZYxN90KM-HLYFnwUiDLN2suNlWRwtK0eq8aYYCkcVQtTTuidtf9EbZOiokxpOs6vTOtcTv9l67wO49tvo6y5htsmn9iOEJ8khBX1hJ_sIITmdJviJHoOBYN4vivRLAZeVGCFEDXYG/s1600/pirate+flag.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 294px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583265132120683890" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZAmaZYxN90KM-HLYFnwUiDLN2suNlWRwtK0eq8aYYCkcVQtTTuidtf9EbZOiokxpOs6vTOtcTv9l67wO49tvo6y5htsmn9iOEJ8khBX1hJ_sIITmdJviJHoOBYN4vivRLAZeVGCFEDXYG/s400/pirate+flag.JPG" /></a> In honor of pi day, I should probably stop wasting time designing <a href="http://www.zazzle.com/PartiallyHomogenized?rf=238411998127890785">t-shirts.</a><br /><br />Happy Pi Day<br /><div></div>neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04574085585101270862noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4785279026300741714.post-69010879890252880232011-03-07T11:08:00.001-07:002011-03-07T11:08:00.800-07:00Pie Steam VentsI like to make pie but I don't like to make regular steam vents.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-iX3UUynltYwgF8EoKy8MiyVc98ccqPqdH2JPxfG6xq98Kv0F3dBrjHDu2mpxVwZBzRFzgw4Y9KIPh3-rdvVljQfxjLPL0ybuQrooqkK-R5hL8Jk1uZu57S4YUI4Xfsvqx3cSpkCoMRbH/s1600/IMG_2322.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580662449758217426" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-iX3UUynltYwgF8EoKy8MiyVc98ccqPqdH2JPxfG6xq98Kv0F3dBrjHDu2mpxVwZBzRFzgw4Y9KIPh3-rdvVljQfxjLPL0ybuQrooqkK-R5hL8Jk1uZu57S4YUI4Xfsvqx3cSpkCoMRbH/s400/IMG_2322.JPG" /></a><br />I was looking back over some of the steam vents that I've cut over the years.<br /><br /><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580659719941733442" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNrEbl_uCGjPoV8DAFJ-iHvI49ssdWAAFHCfYzYwA3Fv-6UjNaIa7TWdm7GdtKeZ8o8I-l8EClryBEb0glIkftYD8dgqZh0OShy9orMgcc2Av76C7UiqNPM5fiiL39uwsk4asNYhWbNtIw/s400/IMG_3719.JPG" /></p><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVKLAg_IMPHrTzoXf9hIu5NcdEnyUeI46mB2zYkl9Puq7IMBZTaOjbh4cblOIQbVF71FLLJerEQE7h2vb9JOQMN3RWfEbL_bezSML7G9hOYuMLroCrUpvDc_itOMCDL4JG6bQZ34cQQYHk/s1600/IMG_3720.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580659727906933234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVKLAg_IMPHrTzoXf9hIu5NcdEnyUeI46mB2zYkl9Puq7IMBZTaOjbh4cblOIQbVF71FLLJerEQE7h2vb9JOQMN3RWfEbL_bezSML7G9hOYuMLroCrUpvDc_itOMCDL4JG6bQZ34cQQYHk/s400/IMG_3720.jpg" /></a></p><p>I think they're getting more elaborate.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIkMZqCL3tTT67kpyW75Y5rptYM1eFGdTNlYXgnHprtbYfG71X7OZwmgLCtOGfO8YO7yLnbV8Szhl7Q4HlY77dcZBjbvSHyZV9sckJ53AAgwKcR1ePeVoLxklC-I2nDfG9wWUVyEPA0-_8/s1600/IMG_0513.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580670112990199922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIkMZqCL3tTT67kpyW75Y5rptYM1eFGdTNlYXgnHprtbYfG71X7OZwmgLCtOGfO8YO7yLnbV8Szhl7Q4HlY77dcZBjbvSHyZV9sckJ53AAgwKcR1ePeVoLxklC-I2nDfG9wWUVyEPA0-_8/s400/IMG_0513.JPG" /></a></p>neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04574085585101270862noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4785279026300741714.post-50908760758383543992011-03-05T11:45:00.001-07:002011-03-05T11:45:47.009-07:00being a baby sucks<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580666196824884146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghEqB3mcADEn4wyv9rfLZZJGXCQVtt1Lv5Du_SbNkO-A1YiZMGIf5PBZwCsd7dlZPFMTScPZMYjK_3kgOFJTf6nOiWCFeYBVacHSeMb8mdq899fCJlZVI6DXGjYTb3ENAzBPJK68OwyGwQ/s400/IMG_0663.JPG" /><br /><div><br /><div>I'm sure it makes me a horrible person but this face made me laugh.</div><div></div><br /><br /><div>And it inspired this design:</div><div><br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 399px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580653142959736882" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnWUM4PGVmMJq7ELjMS1LDmlaO4PgH5kD3QtoLJJloOb19Yk2efo65GdxCqqbsCLeGhpfZRSpD2CVQsLFwJZ01hc_0HUqZIRilmfGMxVmu20PEZhPGis9RCvcXtc7ZLpNCdMR96P00qsWv/s400/being+a+baby+sucks.bmp" /> <div></div><div></div><div>I think this would be totally awesome printed on a onesie</div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 333px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580668213096447314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjInFMKZSiq8BBUzA2FmVKPBHlOit_Yz1fkiWqzJeY0b4iDayPBL9sE8km2C0xDY7pSxo6TUIgSHz3yKKEWY6mfPRc5RBxaBihTWu2hkI902tM302purxEov4KfJCSek4NA0lpAo3cFQsrn/s400/untitled.bmp" /></div><br /><p>Yup, I like it.</p>neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04574085585101270862noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4785279026300741714.post-38105166008381716562010-10-18T12:03:00.003-07:002010-10-18T12:31:06.835-07:00Irony in AdvertisingI just got an email from American Express advertising American Express Gift Cards.<br /><br /><br />The ad was titled, "Be more original this year" and led with the line, "Gift giving just got a little more thoughtful."<br /><br /><br />And all this time I thought I was copping out with the gift card...neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04574085585101270862noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4785279026300741714.post-15040577513403431692010-09-23T09:23:00.003-07:002010-09-23T11:49:29.336-07:00Foreign Hits<div>I use a website called <a href="http://www.sitemeter.com/">SiteMeter</a> to monitor the traffic on my blog. I put this in back when I thought I was going to be a rich and famous blogger one day and would need to know the traffic patterns of the millions of my adoring fans. If I'd gotten an agent instead, he would have told me that going months without posting would kill my readership to die hard friends and family. So now, instead of analyzing traffic patterns, I just use SiteMeter to spy on my visitors. For anybody who still thinks 'anonymous' and 'web-surfing' belong in the same sentence, let me tell you that you leave far more than comments when you stop by my blog. I can see your:</div><ul><li>Domain Name</li><li>IP Address</li><li>Service Provider</li><li>Physical Location</li><li>Computer Operating System</li><li>Web Browser</li><li>Size of your Monitor (I have no idea why that would be important)</li><li>Time of Visit</li><li>Length of Visit</li><li>Number of Pages Viewed</li><li>The Web Page Where you Clicked the Link to My Blog</li><li>The First Page you Looked At</li><li>The Last Page you Looked At</li><li>The Link you Clicked on to Leave my Blog</li></ul><p>One thing that's really neat is that I can look at a map of the last 10/20/50/100 visits. I usually just see the dots in the places you'd expect: California, Utah, St. Louis, Indiana. Every once in a while, though, I will be surprised to see dots in Brazil, Poland, Russia, the Netherlands, India, Japan, or the United Kingdom.</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520173627707032930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 202px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIefI6qkCeQiLHkL38RS8wmAtT90RGze06-4atOrABzw88cxaTFLzdiogX3BFzAPmtwUNsBx7GvDFsk7QMvJU0XqOAOlEMQSIVpmF_UT_qRaVhVS1YPSr8YBsF1FzLjhup2QmRTxT7sEwa/s400/World+Visitors.JPG" border="0" /> <p></p><p>I can't help but wonder what brought them to my blog. Enter the spying. I can click on the dot to get details about their visit. Most of the time I find that they linked from a list of Google Search results, in which case, SiteMeter also tells me what their search terms were. The word, 'nerd' is always present.</p><p>This has led me to some interesting conclusions. First of all, 'nerd' is a slang term. This means that for all its ubiquity in conversation, it is used only rarely in written communication. Thus, the fact that I use the term so often causes my blog to rank highly in searches where 'nerd' is in the search string. <a href="http://nerdcare.blogspot.com/2008/03/nerd-definition-and-tribute.html">This post</a> seems to be the most often stumbled upon: it is usually on the first page of results for the searches that bring foreigners to my blog.</p><p>Secondly, I can't help but wonder if some people in some other country are taking me seriously. Perhaps I need to put a warning up in several languages that the writer of this blog is rarely serious and that nothing contained within it should be used in research papers of any kind (<a href="http://nerdcare.blogspot.com/2008/03/fog-machines-promote-health.html">This post</a> got a hit by somebody looking for sources about the medical benefits of vapor machines).</p><p>I've also realized that I'm not being very helpful to the international community, as evidenced by the fact that most visitors spend only a second or two looking at my blog before they hit the 'back' button. I never seem to be what they're looking for. This would probably hurt my feelings if I still had any.</p>neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04574085585101270862noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4785279026300741714.post-31995446318586819052010-09-17T08:51:00.003-07:002010-09-17T09:41:12.810-07:00Kid's got chops!<p>In case there were any doubts remaining as to my nerd cred, I played trombone in the high school marching band. I never took my trombone to college, though, so it sat unused in my parents' basement for 10 years. In January, I happened to be passing through with space in my trunk and so brought the instrument home where it now sits unused in <em>my</em> house. I pull it out every few months and play some of the songs from a book of John Williams music my wife got me. My son has lately been asking if <em>he</em> can play it. To him, it's just one of daddy's toys and aren't we always telling <em>him</em> to share?</p><p>Last night, I let him try it, thinking he would be disappointed when he couldn't make it work.</p><p><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxGDsQ2v1jSK_dQHXX8W-_TAMy2MMf9ytUBuBZYnuZMyZSp925wh24H0U1-9S_6Pj0JHLtp8Loc-W-q-7JFng' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><p>When he found something to hold it up for him, things got easier.</p><p><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwk8eJ9n52F6kCJnTZ8yI5PZRfvZS3VseyYBe6ZCfqUHbvOm5qDE9714zVBBbTLmBmtTIJfb06RDP6I8oFYFA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><p>Yes, a trombone does sound like a fart. No, I haven't grown out of laughing at it either.</p>neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04574085585101270862noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4785279026300741714.post-48870541332525392372010-06-27T14:27:00.003-07:002010-06-27T15:46:05.886-07:0080's Movies WeekendMy wife went to girls camp a couple weeks back, leaving me home alone with the kids for 4 days. It wasn't so bad really. People from church watched the kids during the day while I was at work and I had enough time saved up that I didn't even have to go to work on Friday. Evenings were the only really boring part.<br /><br />My wife and I have always spent our evenings together: watching television or a movie, reading a book, playing games, going over the budget (*cringe* I hate those nights, they're so boring!), or whatever else suited our fancy. It wasn't until recently that I realized that not all couples do this. Some spend their evenings separately, choosing their own diversions. Having not had this practice, it was actually kind of difficult to find something to do with myself in the evenings. I didn't want to watch one of the movies we'd checked out from the library because I knew my wife would want to see it too and we'd watch it together when she got home. Ditto with our television shows. Games are pretty boring by myself and there was no way I was doing the budget unless I had to.<br /><br />So I did the dishes. And cleaned the kitchen. And tackled my running list of odd jobs around the house that it takes me a while to get to because they rank just higher than doing the budget. By Thursday night, though, I was bored. Since I wasn't going to work on Friday, it was the beginning of my weekend too, so I felt like I needed something special. I took the kids to the library on the way home from the sitter's house and I perused the DVD racks for a movie that my wife wouldn't mind missing. I struck gold. I found <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0087597/"><em>The Last Starfighter</em></a> and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0087538/"><em>The Karate Kid</em></a>.<br /><br />I remember seeing and enjoying both when I was younger but I didn't remember much about either besides the crane kick at the end of karate kid. Both were fun, but <em>The Last Starfighter</em> was definitely the better of the two for me; the acting was much better, which is really saying something for an 80's sci-fi flick. That isn't to say that it was a cinematic masterpiece. The computer graphics were groundbreaking at the time but, as with so many special effects decades later, now they just look laughable. The martial arts in <em>The Karate Kid</em> probably looked impressive when I was 8 but last weekend I couldn't help thinking that Jet Li could have destroyed everybody in that movie. At the same time. Twice. Plus that kid seriously bugged me. I just wanted to smack him a lot of the time.<br /><br />What was also a lot of fun was watching the <em>Making of</em> documentaries on the discs, which were filmed much more recently and featured some of the original cast members, none of whom has had a starring role in 20 years. In retrospect, it probably wasn't hard to get them to do the documentaries for the special edition DVDs. It's not like they were busy with anything else. Speaking of people who'd gone downhill, though, when I realized that at 11:30pm on a Friday night I was watching the bonsai documentary from the special features section on <em>The Karate Kid</em>, I decided it was a good thing my wife was coming home the next day.neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04574085585101270862noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4785279026300741714.post-64114921362594061642010-06-20T00:00:00.002-07:002010-06-20T00:00:03.680-07:00Sawdust and Gasoline<div>A while ago, as I was parking my car at work, I noticed some workers across the road cutting down trees and shrubs with chainsaws. I caught the aroma of sawdust and gasoline which immediately reminded me of my dad. He used to smell just like that when he would come in from working outside. He spent a lot of time using his chainsaw to cut up fallen trees from the forest in our backyard for fire wood. That smell was usually the precursor to a cold hand down the back of your shirt while you were sitting on the couch watching Saturday morning cartoons. That meant it was time to go haul wood up the hill and, no, in case you were brave enough to ask, it didn't matter that Batman was tied up and the Joker was about to blow up Wayne Manor.</div><br /><div>Because of my dad, I have an irrational desire to own a chainsaw. It doesn't matter that I have absolutely <em>no</em> use for one. In my mind, you just can't be a good father unless you cut stuff up and make your kids carry it. Also because of my dad, I learned how to split and chop wood, which is uber-impressive if you ever happen to be dating a farm girl.</div><br /><div>Maybe that's why the memories evoked by sawdust and gasoline made me smile. The missed cartoons weren't important like they were when I was ten but the lessons I learned instead <em>were</em>. And even more so, the man that taught them to me. Thanks, Dradums.</div><br /><div>...and dibs on the chainsaw.</div>neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04574085585101270862noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4785279026300741714.post-43988983209010713002010-05-30T19:30:00.003-07:002010-05-30T19:53:17.285-07:00Fail<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Safety fail:</span><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTx5xk4agHTIF78n8Qe6Uab430sCwbFyxtBvW4dh2LaCsH0FbnxhSXXsReek9l9oAXNtyj1ACOdzGnt7uYnKsjrHcye237BXo1ebJttLQqSo3-w_odnIlaLTzutr4tnWLozkULYPHixLYS/s400/IMG_4448.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477257248427147090" border="0" /></div>I took this picture at the hotel we were staying at across the street from Disneyland. It reminded me of a picture I took at the Pima Air and Space Museum back in November.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;">Botany fail:</div><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUbp11LIFEgk6B7ybZjT9UGjdb24plrnajObjgYCt9FTYeczV0MtHnMKfZKM8kq235Y1qaAbxIm3qUIyAkVKPasjnFhzmcS0dJeqtLjyHngWD6Y58SrdE-Zb6A2kShcpqKmP9qAVW7u_8u/s400/IMG_3718.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477257239115758274" border="0" />neilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04574085585101270862noreply@blogger.com3