A toast to my dad
My father would have been 85 on March 29th. I think about him a lot, but especially this time of year. Spring skiing would have been winding up, and the hiking boots and camping supplies would be coming out of the attic. He’d be starting projects outside, trimming trees or mowing the lawn, (which he absolutely hated.) In his job as a professor, school would be winding up and we’d be turning our thoughts toward summer vacation and road trips out West.
When he died, one of the things I ended up with was a bottle of wine—a 1985 Chateau Haut Bordac—that he’d been saving for a special occasion. For a few years now, it’s sat on our shelf. Every so often, I’d look at it and wonder if, (and when) we should open it. We of course wanted to wait for an occasion that was “special enough” to be worthy of it, and fitting to honor my father’s memory with.
Last Friday we suddenly knew the time had come. Our dear friends Jeff and Vangie were in town for a one-night visit from California. We’ve known the Gunn’s for almost 20 years. They’re some of our closest friends and they both knew my father. We had shared meals, wine and stories around his large antique Mexican dinner table.
Now we were sitting around the same table with a bottle opener. Would the cork come out? Would it be nothing more than an expensive bottle of vinegar? Jeff took this picture of me as we prepared for the moment of truth.
The cork came apart and had to be strained out, but the wine was delicious! Rich, creamy, with a warm flavor of currants. I’m definitely no wine connoisseur but there was no question about it. It was great. We raised a toast to my dad, and to our long friendship with the Gunns. Interesting conversation with close friends. Love, laughter and wit… My dad would have loved it. He’d would have been leaning back in his chair, fidgeting with his napkin, occaisionally asking a probing question or letting out a hearty laugh.
It was only as I sat down to write this that I realized his well worn spot at the head of his beautiful table (where I usually sit now) had been left empty that evening with no concious forethought on our part. He would have loved to have been there…
In one way or another, I know he was.
Let’s talk about the weather…
As we’re sitting here in between the second set of tornado warnings in a week and watching the rain come down, I thought it might be a good time to post a few of the pictures from last week’s storms. Unlike today, with the sky a relatively uniform dark gray, the storms last week produced some spectacular (and very ominous looking) cloud formations. People talk about a green sky during tornado outbreaks. There was a very definite green tinge to some of the clouds. It made us nervous, but it was quite beautiful. It never really rained much, but the clouds were swirling all different directions as they passed overhead.
These were all taken with my phone camera. They are in chronological order and were taken over a roughly 20 minute period.
The lightning is picking back up again so I’m going to shut the computer off now.
Bye Bye Blackbird
It’s the end of an era. My 1997 CBR1100XX Blackbird has moved on to its proud new owner in Michigan. We’ve had over 35,000 great miles together. From the very first day when I rode it home from Murfreesboro in a snow flurry. Then, two trips to the Rocky Mountains in New Mexico and Colorado. So many great rides through Deal’s Gap and the winding country roads of Tennessee, Alabama and Kentucky. Even a brief 45 seconds of worldwide fame when we were featured on the Discovery Channel’s “Extreme Machines” together.
I haven’t ridden her in a while though, and it was time to part ways. I’m glad she’s going to somebody who will give her the <censored>good spanking</censored> safe, conservative journey she deserves, but it was difficult to contain my emotions as she disappeared down the street.
I know I’m too nostalgic and sentimental for my own good. I can’t help it. I remind myself over and over again it’s just a machine. A collection of parts and mechanical systems. But all my self assurances have a hollow ring to them. When I remember that lovely induction roar and the way she leaps forward like a hungry lioness when I whack the throttle open, I know she is something more…
Dang, I’m going to miss her.
P.S. Fortunately for me, the other cute girl in the picture has decided to stay.
What I did on 1234567890 Day
Today is “1234567890 Day.” The day when the clocks on all computers running Unix, or Unix-like operating systems like Mac OS X or Linux will simultaneously display these 10 digits in sequence. For us, the moment came at 5:31:30 CST. Being a geek, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to do something geeky. So of course, I got busy and wrote a shell script! I created a PHP script (run from the command line in OS X’s Terminal) that would do some cool things when the big moment occurred. First, it updated a couple of Twitter accounts. First, my main ZippySeven account (which also updates my Facebook status.) I also have a second Twitter account I use for security system alerts, so I used that to message my mobile phone at the precise moment the clock ticked over to the magic number. Finally, I ran another script that began playing an iTunes playlist, starting with Pink Floyd’s Time and then onto Rush’s Time Stand Still and a few others. Since the alarm sounds in Time don’t start until 20 seconds in, I was careful to begin the song at 1234567870 so they’d be right on the money. All for one brief second of nerdvana. Sweet!
What’s next? More celebrating of course! Actually we’re going to a Valentine’s day party, but two excuses to have a party in one day is good enough for me.
Happy 1234567890 Day everybody. 
Super Size Me!
I’m sorry, but I think this whole economic stimulus thing might be going in the wrong direction.