I was going to write some lighthearted fluff today but like the old saying goes, life is what happens during the making of plans.  In this uber-connected information age, different kinds of relationships that never would have been possible 20 years ago are now just another normal aspect of life.  I’m sure all of us have people that we’ve Instant Messaged or emailed whom we’ve never seen before.  Certain people who read this blog who I “know” quite well due to years of emailing and/or instant messaging I’ve never met in person.

Two amusing notes from this past week.  Our cars have to pass an annual emissions test here in Georgia and I go to this place that’s a small shack (literally) but the owner is really nice.  I never really noticed the name of his establishment before but I did get a chuckle when I finally looked at my credit card receipt.  His place is called “Dad’s Emissions”.  Hmmm, there’s at least 4 or 5 jokes one can ...

I’m going to stray from my usual blog meanderings today and switch into Proud Dad Mode regarding this past weekend.  If there’s one advantage to interleague play, it was the fact that it allowed me to take my daughter to her first MLB game and see her dad’s hometown team.  Last weekend the Tigers came to town and, as fate would have it, the Saturday game was at 3:55 PM since it was a Fox broadcast.  Most games I can’t take her to as a 1 PM game is around her nap time and 7 PM is only an hour from her bedtime.

WOW, yesterday was a day where I became mortified of something at work at my expense, yet it was hard as hell not to laugh out loud at the same time.

Quick Setup to the story:

As most of you know, I test web sites.  My current compan ...

I can’t let the passing away of Rod Beck yesterday go unnoticed on my blog.  While a majority of his fame came when he was a reliever for the Giants, the two seasons he was in Chicago made him my favorite Cub (and Megan's too).  What’s not to like about a fat guy with a Fu Manchu and a mullet that made Cubs fans forget all about the previous reliever who went do ...

I’m a bit baffled as to a certain category of spam that comes to my inbox.  Obviously there are the ones that pretend to be valid websites but you’re redirected to a sinister site.  Others are the result from being on a list from a web site you bought stuff from.  Some try to convince you that a Nigerian prince really does need your help, along with your bank account and routing number.  Some are links to good old fashioned porn.  Some want you to reply to the address so it knows that email account is used and then they bombard you with more spam. 

At the movie theater last night, I found out how it must feel to be a cat when the vacuum is turned on.  After doing the obligatory Empty Your Bladder No Matter How Little Is In It Prior To Seeing A Movie So You Don’t Have To Go During The Movie function, I washed my hands and proceeded to the hand dryer.  Now, most hand dryers are monuments to inefficiency.  Some barely spit out more air than those cheap AA-battery-powered handheld fans you see people with sometimes.  Others don’t belch out warm air while others are scalding hot and cause you to recoil your hand.

We are so spoiled nowadays.  Not only do satellite radios display the name and artist of a song playing, but most modern car radios also have that basic functionality.  One morning a relatively new song began playing nonstop in my head out of the blue and I had no idea who sang it or what the name of the song was.  I knew I’d have to listen to certain stations on XM knowing that I’d for sure find it faster there than on terrestrial radio.  

Is it some sort of secret code where most places have a sales bell by the area where the salespeople are?  While our tech people are kind of removed from where the sales area is, we still hear the damn gong of a bell whenever a big sale is made.  Maybe it’s good morale for those whose life depends on every sale, but for those of use who need to concentrate, it’s simply annoying.  Heck, I’d think that were I a salesguy and I was on the phone giving my sales pitch, I’d be distracted by someone clanging a bell as though it were dinner time on the farm.  Sales guys out there – is the bell truly necessary?

I don’t have boys for children and I’m years removed from competitive baseball but once baseball is in your blood, it stays there.  For that reason, I’m encouraged to see a new rule that was adopted by the Little League this year.  With the curbing of all things we did in our youth seemingly growing each day (all in the name of "protecting our youth") – Dodgeball, Smear the Queer, Detention (now called “Opportunity Time” in my sister-in-law’s school district), crunchy McDonald’s apple pies – it’s refreshing to see pitch counts implemented in the Little Leagues now.