Good Dog, Sparky

Reginald and Sarah live in a sweet little two-story home in San Diego. Sarah had found the place, oh, a dozen years ago. It had needed quite a bit of work. Over the years, they had fixed the place up nicely. Reg (rhymes with “vej”) – as he is known to his friends – loves gardening. Sarah, who is a professional designer, has a real flair for decorating in the style of their native England. They are both handy with tools and, since they are personable and intelligent people, have over the years built a good network of friends and acquaintances in the greater San Diego area.

Reg had founded a specialty tea importing company in the early 1990’s. “T-Reg” was fairly successful and enabled them to have a comfortable if not affluent life. But having one’s own business is a time-consuming proposition, as is an interior design practice. Between the demands of T-Reg, Sarah's design business, and the restoration of their home and one or two hobbies, the time had never seemed “just right” for children.

Far from regretting their choices, Sarah and Reg are happy, healthy, and middle-aged.

Dan and Hiroko are friends of Reg and Sarah’s. They are about the same age as the English ex-pats. Hiroko, like Sarah, is also an interior designer. In fact the two women had met in design school, where they’d become life-long friends. Dan, in his younger days, had been a motorcycle racer: track, mostly, but occasional motocross.

Eventually, Dan’s injuries accumulated to the point where he realized that he needed to do something a little less physically demanding (and damaging). He leveraged some of his racing contacts into a motorcycle sales position, where he’d excelled. He was enthusiastic about the products, new the business inside and out. 

You should also know that Dan is a bit of a trickster.

Hiroko and Dan live in the Sacramento area. They too have no children, but they have a dog. The dog’s name is “Sparky”. Sparky is a very smart, energetic Jack Russell Terrier.

The two couples genuinely enjoy hanging out together and usually get together several times each year. When their schedules permit it, they sometimes vacation together. The one bit of, oh, call it non-congruence in their friendship revolves around Sparky. Reg and Sarah don’t mind dogs, but they really aren’t what you’d call “dog people.” They notice Sparky when they come to Sacramento, but they never really interact with him, except to make polite noises when Dan demonstrates Sparky’s latest trick or clever behavior.

So when Hiroko and Dan come to San Diego for a visit, they typically board Sparky or hire a neighbor to come over and look after him.

Unfortunately, Sparky had gotten hurt just a few days before a long-planned visit south. Dan had been training him to do some jumps and one of the hoops had fallen. It wasn’t serious, but Sparky had a cut on his right hind leg that needed tending. So Dan called and asked if they might this time bring Sparky with them to visit Reg and Sarah in San Diego. Truth be known, Dan expected so hear a hearty, “Sure! Bring him along. I’m sure he’ll have a fun visiting too!”

Instead, the line got very quiet.

After a pause, Reg said, “Well… I suppose that’d be okay. He’s well-trained and all, right?”

“Sure he is. He’s not a pup; he’s a smart dog. Loves to hang out with people.”

“Okay… um, where will he sleep?”

“We’ll bring his dog carrier. He’s used to it and we’ll put it in the guest bedroom with us. Hey, thanks a lot. This’ll be great!”

“Oh… well, can he, er, go all night without needing to…”

“What? Go outside? Sure. He’s in his prime. Great self control. No worries there!”

“Well, that sounds fine. I’m sure it’ll be fine. Fine, then. We’ll look forward to er, Sparky being part of the party.  Fine.”

So you see where this is going, don’t you?

Dan was quiet after he hung up the phone. After a few minutes, he chuckled, then laughed out loud. Hiroko looked up from her book and raised an eyebrow. Dan just shook his head and laughed some more. Then he grabbed his car keys.

“Be right back. Just thought of something to bring.”

“Don’t bring a bunch of stuff. We are only staying the weekend.”

“Right.”

Dan was indeed gone only a few minutes. When he returned, he got busy packing the car. This occupied the better part of an hour. Later, he and Hiroko (and Sparky of course) spent a pleasant evening and turned in early. First thing in the morning, they and Sparky were in the car heading south.

It’s almost a straight shot down Interstate 5 from Sacramento to San Diego. In good traffic conditions, you can make the trip in well under 8 hours. Our intrepid travelers made it in 7 1/2, including pit stops. 

When they arrived at Reg & Sarah’s place, there were many hugs and kisses all around. Sparky, happy to be out of his carrier and able to romp trotted all around the two couples emitting the occasional cheerful bark. Had Sparky been in top form, he would probably have circled the yard at top speed and performed a few impromptu tricks. Still mindful of his hurt leg, he settled for a more sedate display of enthusiasm.

Despite Reg’s unspoken misgivings, Sparky was a great houseguest. The dog is indeed well-trained and – like many Jack Russels – is excruciatingly cute. The weekend passed uneventfully (with regards to the canine addition to the party) and all too quickly. By mid-afternoon on Sunday, the car was again packed. Sparky was again in his carrier. Again, there were hugs and kisses all around, and the travelers headed north.

Dan seemed uncharacteristically quiet on the return trip. Two hours into the trip, Hiroko, who was taking a turn at the wheel, asked if he were feeling well.

“Oh, I’m fine,” came the brief reply.

“Well, you’re kind of quiet.”

“Am I?”

“Yes, you are. Did something happen that I should know about?”

“Well… remember when I ran out to the store right before we packed the car on Thursday night?”

“Hmmm… yes, I do remember. You said you thought of something to bring.”

“Right. It was sort of a joke on Reg, but he didn’t react at all.”

“Exactly what sort of a trick, Dan?” Hiroko wanted to know. Suddenly, it got cooler in the car. In his carrier, Sparky pricked up his ears. He recognized that tone of voice and knew that something was up.

“Oh, well. Nothing much…”

“Dan…” The temperature was now dropping precipitously.

“Oh. Do you know those rubber dog turds?”

“Rubber what?!”

“Rubber dog turds. You can get ‘em at Phil’s Novelty & Magic in the mall. It’s a little store sort of near Macy’s…”

“Dan. You didn’t!”

“Well… I thought it’d be funny. After I got all our stuff out of the guest room, I left a rubber dog turd in the room… in plain sight of the hall.”

“Oh, Dan! That’s awful. How old are you? That’s humor fit for an ill-behaved middle-schooler. You know that was the first time we’ve ever brought Sparky with us on a visit!”

“Yeah, well, it’s not that big a deal.”

Now the air was both frosty and thick.

As luck would have it, just then Dan’s cell phone rang. It was Reg. Reg was half-laughing and half annoyed. He had indeed noticed the fake dog deposit. Not wanting to embarrass his guests, he had carefully picked it up with a tissue and flushed it down the toilet. Oops.

No more than 15 minutes after Hiroko, Dan, and Sparky had hit the road, a toilet backed up at Sarah & Reg’s. They’d called a plumber who’d arrived about an hour later and immediately located the rubber dog turd right near the cleanout. The plumber had obviously been a bit puzzled, but he was used to finding odd things in drains.

Dan, now more than a little sheepish (and very conscious of Hiroko’s icy stare) apologized profusely for his ill-considered practical joke. He insisted that Reg send him the bill for the plumber. Reg argued but eventually allowed himself to be convinced and promised to send it along. After a few more back-and-forth pleasantries, they hung up.

It was quiet in the car for a while. Then Dan, unable to dampen his natural spirits, started laughing. After a while, Hiroko gave up being irritated and even she smiled a little.

Dan leaned over his shoulder to face the back seat and the pet carrier. “Good dog, Sparky!”

Electric Cars

The Old Amigo does a little volunteer work for EV World.  That's a web 'zine dedicated to the promotion of non-ICE (Internal Combustion Engine) powered vehicles.  Most of the time he does things like enter events in a database that shows up in an on-line calendar.  

Once in a while, however, some fun things float over the transom.  One such is a short biography of John Wayland, aka "Plasma Boy".  The biography will probably go live in early 2009, but in the meantime The Amigo has been emailing back-and-forth with him and learning.  And writing. Mr. Wayland is an interesting and talented man... and he is dedicating his life to changing peoples' minds about electric cars.

Mr. Wayland recently forwarded the URL for a video from Oregon Public Broadcasting.  It is both fun and inspiring.  The Amigo hopes it makes you grin just as much as it did him...  Check out the race stats: Wayland's "White Zombie" breaks 11.5 seconds for the quarter mile.  That's quick -- especially for a street-legal car.

Deflation?

Deflation? We don't got to show you no stinking deflation.

The Amigo read that deflation would be bad.  It would cause prices to fall, wages to fall, and (gasp) corporate profits to fall.  My, my.

Let's see... if prices fall, well our purchasing power would increase.  It might let us live without incurring debt.  In constant dollars real wages have been falling for the last 8 years -- unless you're one of the Robber Barons feeding at the private trough at the pinnacle of the economy. The Friendly One merely notes that corporate profits have been growing and growing and growing for a long time. Maybe it's time to take a look at that model to see if it still makes sense.

Note that local economies may do okay during times of deflation.  People can trade work for goods or other work (consult your tax advisor for implications of bartering).

It is not clear that deflation is a disaster for any but those at the top of the pile, and we probably don't need to worry about them too much.  An adjustment, certainly.  Perhaps a move away from the consumer treadmill.  Perhaps a slower, simpler pace.  Maybe I'm wrong about this, but we would probably adjust.

Cooperate with your neighbors.  Plant a garden.  Tend it.  Share the food.  Share some meals.  What a concept.

The Mole Sez', "Can you dig it?"

The Old Amigo has been carting around a lot of dirt lately... probably a couple of tons. One of the neighbors has started referring to me (in a nice way) as "the Human Mole." We had a blast of rain through here, and it let us know just how full of water the garden area can get. So when the rain backed off for a couple of days, I hit the garden prep project really hard and got it wrapped up -- at least for this year. We're talking at least 300 cubic feet of dirt removed and either sifted (to remove LOTS OF ROCKS) or hauled over to a low spot on the property that I'd like to raise. That was all the heavy work. By yesterday evening, I hurt pretty much everywhere, but it is great to have it done.  

Next we plan to add a couple of inches of compost (already piled up and ready to go) to the bottom. Above that we'll mix sifted soil and compost. Then we'll top the whole thing off with some night crawlers and some straw. Ought to be great by spring.

At the end of the digging, I took a quick shot of the sunset over the Olympics. Pretty nice, huh?

Very nearly stupid with fatigue, I ate a quick snack and taught my regular Monday evening gentle yoga class. Most of my students are very kind, however, and applauded at the end. It was the biggest class ever (19 students). Speaking of kindness, one of the guys who works at the gym helped me scrub down the mats. Then I returned to mi casa, ate a real dinner (Angel had been gathering Chanterelles and made a fantastic mushroom Stroganoff), relaxed, and crashed.

On the Economic Front, it might be worth mentioning a couple of things:

• Paulson seems bent on spending every cent to bailout his buddies in Big Finance. We, The People are at liberty to spend still more of our tax dollars if we'd like to cushion other industries, but the Hankster sez' we should keep our grubby hands of the hundreds of billions that he wants to dole out to his cronies.


• The 5% or so of the TARP funds that we may or may not want to throw under the wheels of Big Auto is NOT supposed to come out of the piles 'o cash already allocated. Do your nostrils detect a stink?


• Wholesale prices seem to be falling. Hmmm... I've blogged this before, but it bears repeating: if we stop buying crap from BIg Retail, Bit Retail will just go away.


• In fact, if we start paying off our debts and then saving as much as we can, we'll avoid inflation. We are the ultimate drivers of the economy. If we spend with consciousness and intention, our purchases become a powerful political act. Keep that in mind.


• Would you like to shake things up big time? Don't buy stuff you don't need, and if you do need (really need) something, see if you can buy it used. This could quickly & extensively re-order the economy.


• Be careful if you play with sharp objects.

Finally, I wrestled with MySQL for much of the day. Talk about Old Technology. Talk about FUNKY user interfaces. Ouch. Well, I got a bunch of things going at least. Equally important, I'm set up to do some good tutorials next. I've started taking (typing) more detailed notes so that I have a trail of bread crumbs for the next time I enter these woods.

There are so many rocks.

PHP Tutorial

Well, the Old Amigo found a PHP tutorial on the web...

I can see why some folks don't like PHP much.  It seems to've grown by accretion (no, I'm not saying that anyone's a cretin) into a humungus blob o' functions with a syntax reminiscent of an offspring of Visual Basic on a one night stand w/ C.  Or something like that.

Still, lots of folks use it, and it's not too hard to understand in it more simple forms.  And, of course, it's got a well-accepted interface to MySQL.  In fact, the tutorial upon which I stumbled segues right from PHP to MySQL to using PHP to have its way with MySQL.

Just what the Old Amigo ordered.

Now, I spent several hours on this today, and my brain is a bit foggy.  

I got a strong recommendation to drop Django and spend some time learning YUMA.  The first part I can easily do right now!  Re: the second part: I looked some at YUMA and it looks good, so I've put it on my ToDo stack... which seems to suffer more pushes than pops.

Angel, Uncle R., Cousin R., and now Cousin M (who was stuck in traffic but got here this afternoon) are up looking at Hurricane Ridge.  They had to take Uncle R's car 'cause Cousin M's had a nail in the right rear tire.  Uncle R. pulled some channel locks out of his trunk and was all for pulling the sucker out, but we convinced him that it'd be better if we left the nail in place and dropped Cousin M's car off at the local tire store.

For a while, M**2 was reading the paper upstairs.  Now she's gone out to the guest house to watch some Tube.  Me, I think I'll eat a bit of a snack and play some guitar.

Once my brain is defogged some, I think I'll read my Learning Python textbook and do some of the exercises in there.

All-in-all it was a good day and promises more along those lines as the evening approaches.

The rock may be wrong, but it's looking okay.

Rain and Relatives

We have out-of-town guests.

I like my in-laws.  They are fun to be around.  One of our visitors is a cousin of Angel's, Cousin R.  He's a university professor.  Very intelligent and personable.  I enjoy talking with him; although we hardly saw each other today today (he hung out in the guest house and worked while I hung out in my office in the basement and did the same).

Next week he goes to Geneva to lecture.  Like I said, he's a smart guy.

Then there's Uncle R.  He's a retired truck driver.  Has lots of native intelligence and practical knowledge.  Like me, he enjoys green tea.  I've spent quite a bit of time chatting with Uncle R.  Today we talked about microwave ovens and electric lawn tractors.  And forklifts.

Finally, there is M**2.  That's Angel's mom.  She'll be staying on with us after Uncle R. and Cousin R. leave.  She'll move out to the guest house, which is finally done.  She specifically wanted to visit during the dark time of the year.  And so she has.

It is good that we all get along and have plenty of space to get out of each other's hair, because it's been raining for a couple of days now... on-and-off, but mostly on.  The weather forecast says that it's supposed to stop raining and be mostly clear for about a week.  That would be welcome.  While I love the rain, we didn't get the garden finished.  A long story, that:

• Farm Girl has to take care of her farm


• Notof is in jail - nothing too serious


• Carlos works for the Blind Man


• I'm trying to learn Python, PHP, C#, MySQL, and a little Django


• ...and the incomplete part of the garden is about 12" in water

OTOH, I've figured out a strategy to finish the little bit that remains.  All I need is a few dry days for the water to soak in.  It's going to be great.

The compost is coming right along too.

My yoga classes are starting to develop.  Four classes at The Gym.  Another level 2 vinyasa class at the studio in Uptown.  I love teaching yoga.  It is too bad that it pays poverty wages.  Still, if I am able to get a good grasp of most of the above programming technologies, I may be able to get some work applying them... and that would pay above the poverty level.

Which would be very nice indeed.

YES!

A friend writes. He senses that we may be coming out of the darkness. Indeed, we may.

The earth itself feels a great sense of relief. Visualize: gentle rain on parched earth. Imagine: a hand extended in kindness. Focus: on the path ahead. Breathe. Fill your lungs. Release. Relax. For tonight at least we can, we should savor this.

Nature has righted Herself and the nightmare may well be drawing to a close. The margin could have been greater but is acceptable. The body politic is perhaps redeemed. We ourselves feel profound relief. Going forward, no longer ashamed of the actions taken in our name, we may again hold up our heads.

We assert a rightful, a just place on the world stage.  Room for others; room for us. We recognize the difficulties that we face, but now we may address them intelligently, carefully, and we may anticipate success.

The Old Amigo knows better, but he nonetheless feels like dancing.

"Here. Look at this rock!"

"No. Sorry, that one is wrong too."

"Oh, okay."

"Yes it is."

Guardedly Optimistic

Last night I read that African Americans were guardedly optimistic that Barack Obama might be elected President of the United States. I share their optimism; I share their guardedness. 

Obama has the education & knowledge, the charisma, the speaking ability, the calm & intelligent demeanor. He has the excellent & rare combination of confidence and humility necessary to select the right advisors. He neither deludes himself that he possesses all the answers; nor is he afraid to surround himself with the best & brightest. He has the vision to set us on a better course. 

When you compare the Obama/Biden ticket to its Republican counterpart, the Democrats should win it in a landslide. It should make LBJ's 1964 victory over Goldwater look like a photo finish. Alas, the Republican misinformation machine is going full tilt. In many states, there is a concerted effort to disenfranchise many bona fide, registered voters. The Third Estate should be up in arms over this, but the mainstream media is now largely a gelded, wholly-owned subsidiary of the Right.

So we wait on pins and needles until Wednesday morning.

It would speak well of our country if we were to elect the better candidate. It would speak volumes if we could do it by a landslide, but I'll be satisfied if we can do it by a whisker. 

I'll be relieved if it is not stolen yet again from the American People. If we can get back on a decent, humane path, all will be well.

Then Play On... The Old Amigo might still be on the wrong rock, but it would be a good one.