Although I do plan to prioritize writing to a level that allows me to do it daily, my day job and late-night baseball have kept me extremely busy recently.  (Pretty exciting about them Red Sox, eh?)

However, I would like to mention one thing I found humorous. A while back I wrote a middling review of a blog traffic-building product called Blogrush, commenting that the president of that company had written some pretty odd, very lengthy, rambling emails to his product users. My conclusion was that the jury was still out on the product.

Well, guess what. They kicked me out of their network. They did not cite my review as a reason, of course, but I suppose they didn’t have to–we’re grown-ups here; we both knew why they were doing it.

Road construction is on-going, by the way. The road in front of our house has been flattened dirt for a couple of weeks now, as the major work has moved to the other end of the street. Our driveway has been inaccessible since they started. Also, although the plan is for the road to get no wider and, if anything, narrower in places, they’ve removed quite a bit of yard from the front of our house. The plan is for about two more weeks of this, and then we’ll be done.

Road construction outside our house started in earnest today, and they did not mess around. The backhoe had not been there fifteen minutes before half the road in front of our house was rubble. It took them longer to get it off the truck than it did to destroy a large portion of road that had laid there for more than 50 years.

By the time I returned home from work this evening, it was too dark to photograph, but it appeared the blacktop was entirely gone. I parked around the corner and walked to the driveway, not noticing that that the first five feet of our drive way also had been removed. Nearly fell on my face.

Next step is to lower the street in front of our house by 11 inches. Once they do that, I think I’ll stop trying to get up the driveway in the dark.

The road in front of our house is being entirely rebuilt.  It’s only one block long, but it’s not a small task.  First, there’s a bend in the middle of the road.  Second, they need to repitch the road so that the center of the road (the center being the spot between the two ends) is higher and the ends are lower.  We live at one end of the road, so the road in front of our house is dropping by 11 inches.  In order to accommodate this, the city actually has to provide us with a new, more steeply sloped driveway.

I’ve put some “before” photos below.  You can click on them to see a larger image.

In order to preserve the character of the street, no sidewalks are going in.  To do so would require taking down fences, many trees, and at least one stone wall.  However, we are getting curbs and drainage and a small number of trees apparently will be coming down.

We’re told construction will take roughly six weeks, which would have them cutting the ribbon some time around Thanksgiving.  Our driveway is likely to be dirt for four weeks, and we’ll have a day or so that we cannot use it.  We’re just looking forward to no longer having a large lake at the bottom of our driveway after each rainfall.

I’ll provide scintillating updates as we go along.

You have to wonder what has been going through this guy’s head.

First of all, I don’t care if he was seeking out some kind of physical airport pleasure. But let’s say he was and that the person in the other stall was receptive. What’s the next move? Does one person actually enter the stall of the other? As in, walk out of their stall and into the next stall? Bathroom stalls are not the most private of places. I cannot imagine it would not be obvious what was going on in there. Or does it all take place under the wall somehow? Perhaps I don’t need to know.

But there must be something that goes on, or the policeman would not have been assigned bathroom groping stake-out duty. (Do you think they request that?)

Then you listen to Craig’s story: the extremely wide stance that caused his foot to touch the foot of the person in the next stall over, the mysterious dropped toilet paper that he was reaching under the wall to retrieve, etc. When you listen to the tape (which, I am embarrassed to say, I have), he sounds like a kid trying to maneuver his way out of punishment for something the entire world knows that he did. (”It was broken when I got here.” “I think a Martian came into the kitchen and ate those cookies. Yeah, that’s it. A Martian.”) It’s just so … unbelievable.

In the end, he chooses to sign a guilty plea. Somehow, he seems to think by doing so, no one will find out about any of it. I wonder if he asked a lawyer about that. My guess is that he did not–he simply signed it, hoping it all would go away. Indeed, I don’t know of course, but I would venture to guess he told no one about this before it started to hit the press. You have to wonder when his wife learned about it.

Okay, so his initial strategy didn’t work out so well. Somehow–and your guess is as good as mine as to how such a thing could possibly happen–the fact that a United States Senator had pleaded guilty to soliciting sex in an airport men’s room became public information. Did he honestly think it would not?

Next good idea: challenge his own plea, claiming, among other things, that he was uninformed, that he was coerced, and that he was not given an opportunity to say in court that he was not guilty. (I like that one. He chose to mail in his signed plea complete with all kinds of waivers you would think a Senator would understand and then claims he did not have a chance to say he was not guilty in court and that the plea, therefore, is invalid. Makes you chuckle a little.) My favorite argument from Craig and his attorneys was that the “plea was not intelligently made.” I have to say, he may have a point there.

So now, having earlier promised to resign from the Senate if he could not get the plea withdrawn, he has reversed course, vowing to stay through next November. Does he really think this is going to serve the interest of the people of Idaho? All he is doing is fighting for his own reputation and causing a distraction to the United States Senate. It has become a personal quest, one that does not serve this country. Even as a Democrat, I get no satisfaction from this. There’s important work to be done, and Craig is in the way.

Personally, I do not believe Senator Craig should step down for the actions he took in that bathroom. I think he should step down for being too dumb to serve in the United States Senate. To have thought that he could hide this with a guilty plea; to make the argument that he only pleaded guilty so that he could hide it; to challenge the plea on the grounds that he was uninformed or that the plea was unintelligent; to change his mind and remain in the Senate despite the distraction he’s causing his own party as well as the rest of Congress; to think that he really can get the Senate Ethics panel to believe his story suddenly and clear his name–the man simply is not smart enough to hold such an important position.

But wait. Unintelligent people holding high office. Seems to ring a bell.

Recently I was coming back from a trip to the U.K. and had a little time to kill in Heathrow. So, naturally, I stopped by the World of Whiskey. It was about 10:00 in the morning and time for a little taste-testing.

For some years now, 16-year-old Lagavulin has been a steady friend. On cold, winter nights, there is nothing like its rich, smokey flavors to warm the insides. It’s the internal equivalent of lamb’s wool slippers or an old, worn, woollen blanket. There are other scotches, but this one has embracing familiarity.

So, at Heathrow I was eager to try the 1990 Distiller’s Edition. Once I did, I purchased a bottle immediately, price be damned. Now I wish I had purchased two.

This is a truly special single-malt scotch whiskey. Its color is a beautiful coppery bronze, and its round, full, smokey flavors are deeply satisfying. It’s a whiskey that makes you want to put your feet up.

At the time I made the purchase, the sales clerk said it could not be obtained in the United States. I am inclined to believe this is mostly true, although I did find it for sale on eBay for $149 per bottle–significantly more than I paid. I also understand the 1991 Distiller’s Edition now can be purchased from some high-end wine and liquor stores in the U.S.

Keep your eye out for this whiskey. If you see it, buy it. My birthday is in May.

Columbia University invited Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad to speak on its campus yesterday. Lee Bollinger, the President of Columbia, took severe criticism for extending the invitation. Personally, although I support President Bollinger’s decision, I was disappointed to hear him introduce Ahmadinejad with direct, personal attacks.

President Bollinger said in his introduction:

Mr. President, you exhibit all the signs of a petty and cruel dictator. You are either brazenly provocative or astonishingly uneducated.

These lines were not necessary during the introduction, even if true. Challenge Ahmadinejad, point out his country’s record on sponsoring terrorism, accuse Iran of being a root cause of the continued chaos in Iraq, say what you want about the country’s treatment of homosexuals, demand clarification on their position toward Israel (i.e., whether they want to “wipe them off the map”), but the personal attacks–even if deserved–were a step too far during an introduction.

It is possible that President Bollinger was attempting to respond to the criticism that inviting Ahmadinejad to speak at Columbia–a highly prestigious university–somehow legitimized the man. Perhaps, but if that is your concern, don’t invite him at all.

Do not get me wrong: Ahmadinejad does indeed show all the signs of a petty and cruel dictator who, in all likelihood, is both brazenly provocative and astonishingly uneducated. Many of his comments during his speech (that, for example, Jews live peacefully in Iran and that the country has no homosexuals) were flat out lies. Still, as much as I protest the man and his country, I do not protest Columbia’s invitation to Ahmadinejad to speak. I only wish President Bollinger had shown the unearned respect and courtesy not to cast personal insults during the introduction.

So, I have this phone problem. My company does Web development, strategic planning, that kind of thing. However, my phone number is one digit off from a medical supply store. You also can reverse two digits and get a chiropractic office. As a result, I get a number of interesting callers.

The calls intended for the chiropractic office are always trying to schedule or cancel an appointment–usually they’re cancelling. Once, as soon as I answered the phone, a caller started complaining rather angrily about the neck pain he had been experiencing since his last visit. When I told him he had the wrong number, he at first did not believe me. I gave him the correct number and suggested he try that one. I then wished him good luck with his neck pain. He was quite sheepish when he hung up, and I could tell he still was uncertain as to whether I actually was the chiropractic office just trying to brush him off.

One of my favorite calls was the very first call I received for the medical supply store. The middle-aged female caller said:

Yes, hi. My husband, he wears those tight nylon support stockings that improve circulation to your legs. Do you carry those? And do you have them in both black and brown?

I had no idea what she was talking about.

Then there was the call from the pharmacy:

Hi, this is Steve from [pharmacy name]. What’s the largest container of rubbing alcohol that you sell?

Moments ago, I received a call from someone asking if I carried a specific brand of reclining chairs that had been recommended by her doctor. I let her know that I do not but suggested she call the medical supply store. I gave her the number.

These people are all very appreciative when I tell them the correct number. I sometimes wonder if either of these other two companies get calls from people seeking Web services. Probably not.

I suppose everything has an anniversary. Today is the 25th anniversary of the sideways smiley face.

On September 19, 1982, at exactly 11:44 a.m., a Carnegie Mellon University professor named Scott Fahlman typed this message in an on-line electronic bulletin board:

I propose the following character sequence for joke markers:

:-)

Read it sideways. Actually, it is probably more economical to mark things that are NOT jokes, given the current trends. For this, use

:-(

Professor Fahlman asserts that he probably was the first to use this–he has seen no evidence that anyone used it before this date, although he concedes that it is a fairly simple concept.

It’s unclear when people started modifying this concept to connote different sentiments, such as surprise :-o sticking out one’s tongue :-p anger >:-{ or “you know what I mean, hint hint, wink wink” ;-) (Note: my apologies for the lack of punctuation in this last sentence. As it turns out, it’s hard to punctuate a sentence about use of punctuation to make facial expressions. See also Scott Johnston’s blog entry noting the difficulty of using smiley faces at the end of a parenthetical.) My guess, however, is that this trend started around 11:45 that same morning.

With all due respect to Professor Fahlman, I can’t stand these things. I suppose they’re harmless enough, but why not use language to express your meaning? Moreover, this simple language shortcut is the apparent parent to the obnoxious little emoticons that now pop up everywhere, even when you don’t want them to. As a PRIME EXAMPLE, WordPress converted my smileys here into emoticons when I saved this entry; I had to dig around in the WordPress options to find a setting that would turn these off so they would remain as intended. How annoying.

I suppose the only argument in favor of the smiley face is to ensure that the reader understands intended tongue in cheek. In the cold, sterile environment of email or text messaging, it is fairly easy to misinterpret the author’s tone and meaning. Even so, try to use words.

Actually, it’s not quite fall yet–we have a few days to go.  But it was in the low 50s when I woke up this morning, notwithstanding the bright sunshine skimming the tops of the trees.  The air conditioner in the bedroom window was on a couple of weeks ago, but I doubt it will be on again.  I’ll need to take them out of the windows and store them in the basement soon.  Almost time to put in the storm windows.  I hate that task.

Fall has always been a time to start fresh.  Perhaps it’s because the air seems so clean.  Maybe it’s because here in Maine the summer never seems to fade into fall; it just happens, often over night.  One day you’re enjoying dinner on the back deck, the sun still up at 9:00.  A very short time later it’s getting dark by 7:30, and it’s too cold to eat outside.  (Although a glass of wine on the lower deck after work is still tolerable.)

Whatever it is, I always have used September as a time to begin doing something I’ve been meaning to begin doing for some time.  This year, I’ve decided to start writing again.  So, let’s give this blogging thing a try. 

I’ve been thinking about starting this blog for quite a while.  Those who know me are painfully aware that I frequently have something to say–whether it’s about placement of commas, the perennial fear of a Red Sox end-of-season collapse, single-malt scotch, splitting infinitives, bad drivers, bad presidents, good music, or just some random concept.  Perhaps this will give me a place to say it.

I look forward to seeing how it goes.