Hypocritical Horror

The fact that anyone is surprised about what has happened at Penn State simply amazes me.  Somehow the spirit of “Animal House” and the anonymity of Las Vegas have been ingrained into the concept of higher education in America.   

 

Mixing a few natural predators, with too much alcohol, and an attitude of “What happens in College stays in College” is a recipe for sexual assault.

Why do you think Colleges and Universities have their own “Police Forces”? 

It all comes down to money enrollment.

The institution of higher learning needs to keep students' parent's paying students, and the City’s that host them want the students to spend their money off campus.  The effect is that campus crimes are virtually never reported, because it’s bad for business.

I was a Resident Assistant at college one year.  One of the rooms on my floor attracted pot smokers every weekend.  The boys are couple of rooms down were good old fashioned bible thumpers and couldn’t stand it when the hallway “smells like that Mary-jew-wana”.  I tried talked with the smokers; told them to point a fan out the window so the smell wouldn't ooze into the hall. 

The final straw.  One day the smokers put the fan in backwards.  Blew all the smoke into the hallway.  So what did the Thumpers do?  They called the city cops.  When the real police showed up at the front desk you would have thought IT WAS THE END OF THE WORLD.

The only Horror here is everyone’s hypocritical “How could this have happened?”

Randomness, IV

Professional Egoist

An acquaintance once told me that is an alternative expansion of the acronym PE that normally stands for Professional Engineer. 

I though to myself “Ha, ha”.

I will admit I have seen some of the PEs I know treat “non-technical” people in a manner that I think is condescending, but I never seen them do it to other “technical” people.

Until I got my PE.

Apparently they saved their bad behavior until I was a member of the club.  In the last few months I’ve actually heard things like:

“Don’t talk with her, work with her boss.  He’s an engineer.”

And;

“No I don’t want to give that work to her, she’s not a PE”.

Really?

I know engineers don’t have the best reputations as people persons, but,

Really?

If I ever say anything like that I sure hope someone calls me on it…

Endings

So last summer I attended my 20 year high school reunion.  High school was a good time for me.  I enjoyed it immensely at the time, and in retrospect feel truly lucky.

I talked with people I hadn’t during high school and found out that we had much in common.  I talked with people I disliked in high school and found that I still didn’t care for them.  I saw people I kept in touch with, and some I hadn’t.

There was one person there that I hadn’t kept in touch with, but wish I had.  It was so good to see her.  I only got to talk with her for a few minutes, but I was hopeful that we would be able to stay in touch going forward.

A couple of months later I found out she had committed suicide.

What?

I have to admit that it still distresses me if I dwell on it.

I mentioned to a co-worker whose opinion I value later that week.  I said that I wish I knew why.  I was told that “Even if you knew you couldn’t have done anything about it.” 

My first reaction was to deny that I would have tried to “talk her out of it”, but to be honest with myself, had I known she was thinking that way, I’m sure I would have tried to help.

I’ve been told that sometimes suicide isn’t always about things bad, but that sometimes a person looks around and thinks “This is it?  There’s nothing more?”

A few years ago I went for breakfast at IHOP with my grandfather.  At the time my mom was sick, and I was going to drive him out to see her.  Grandpa was a bout 90 at the time, and Grandma had been gone for a few years already.  Over breakfast we had a real conversation about, life, in general.  He commented that he hadn’t thought he would outlive any of his children, and that he had days when he felt like Methuselah. 

Just a couple of months later the got pneumonia and was gone three days later.

He certainly didn’t commit suicide, but I think he looked around and thought; “This is it?  There’s nothing more?”, and sort of gave up.

There are times when I miss him, miss both of them, but instead of remembering the end I think I’ll choose to remember the other times, and be happy for them in that they got to go on their own terms.

#12

Family Outdoor Adventure

One of these days I’ll get to do something on the weekend for myself but until then; more scouts.  This time it was Bear Cub requirement number 12, Family Outdoor Adventure. 

We went to Powder Valley Nature Center

And hiked.

We let Jacob plan the day – specifically by picking the picnic lunch menu.

Dill Pickles, Strawberries, and PB&J sandwiches.

Cowhand

So, the last time I was on a horse was when I was five.  Why so long you ask?  Getting thrown would have been one thing.  Getting your foot caught in the stirrup and dangling upside down while your horse runs in circles is another thing all together.  “Thankfully” I was too short to drag on the ground.  Had we shown up, gotten on the horse and gone for a trail ride I would have been fine, but that’s not the way it happened.  We got there, and they assigned us horses, we had is brush them, get their saddles on (the professionals did the bits), and get helmets.  I was ready to crap my pants by the time we actually got on them, but I digress.  This is really about camping with boy scouts!

So we pulled into our camp sit at dusk on Friday, and we didn’t get our Quesadilla dinner until after dark.  No big deal, the moon was spectacularly bright.

We couldn’t really have had better weather; lows in the mid 50s, and highs in the low 80s.  The only thing missing was my jacket.  The following morning started at sunup (630am) because the boys wanted Bacon, Eggs, and Pancakes for breakfast.  We had to be at the stable at 9am for horseback riding.  We were only five minutes late. 

As an aside; I hate it when the boys want pancakes.  They are nothing but slow, messy carbohydrates.

The trail ride was as expected.

I think my horse, Cowhand, was pissed off about having to carry the fat guy.  Repeatedly I got rubbed against trees, and taken through the tall grass.  I love Chiggers, really; especially when they’re all over my legs.  The ride lasted a little over and hour and everyone survived.

Lunch was sandwiches, and we set up dinner to cook in the sun.

We had two solar cookers.  The professionally built one got up to 350 degrees and had three pounds of ground beef, diced onions, and chili seasoning in it.  The other one was made by the scouts at a previous troop meeting out of cardboard, duct tape, and tinfoil.  I don’t know how hot it got, but it did do an adequate job of warming up the beans.  We heated the beans up in a black tin that came with another solar cooker the Scoutmaster didn’t bring along on this trip, but he did tell me that the manufacturer claimed that; “Food cooked with photons tastes better!”

While dinner was cooking we took a hike down the creek and let the boys, be boys.

All told we spent until dinner, about 4 hours, playing in the creek.  The total walk was between two and three miles. 

SNAKE!

I asked the boys what kind it was.  They didn’t know, but wanted to pick it up anyway.  So after I said no, several times, we talked about the fact the baby poisonous snakes can be more dangerous than the adults because they don’t withhold any venom.  I have no idea if its true, but I didn’t want them to pick it up, and one lie was as good as another at that point.

Dinner was quick and easy.  Chili and the leftover cheese from the quesadillas; since we used the solar cookers there was no cooking fire to deal with.  Dinner took about 30 minutes from start to finish.  Breakfast must have taken 2 full hours.  Yeah for solar cookers!

So at seven o’clock I was ready to pass out.  I actually went into my tent and laid down for 15-20 minutes before the bonfire.

That night based on the Scoutmaster’s suggestion the bonfire was lit at the top, instead of the bottom.  What I fabulous idea!  I do that all the time when I use my smoker at home, why it never crossed my mind to do for a bonfire escapes me.  Anyway our bonfire lasted a good hour and a half.  It wasn’t as big as a typical bonfire, but it gave us a steadier amount of heat and light.  It also burned virtually smoke free.  I assume because the wood got dried out properly as the fire burned its way down.

So at nine that night a strange thing happened.  Two of the boys got up, and decided that it was time to go to bed.  They were so tired they were falling asleep sitting up watching the bonfire.  30 minutes later we put the remains of the bonfire out, and all went to bed. 

The boys all slept until 730 on Sunday morning.

Fat Raccoons

Last weekend I got to go camping with the cub scouts!  I once called camping with the boy scouts total chaos.  If that’s true then camping with the cub scouts is ultimate chaos.  The amount of uncontrolled energy is staggering. 

I honestly don’t know how the cub scout den leaders do it.  I really don’t.  Just one night with a large group of sugar fueled, up past bedtime, out in the woods kids make me want to run away to some quiet place and practice Buddhist meditation. 

I let Jacob run while I set up the tent.  He got to play, I got to work.  Part of me wants to make it hard for him so he doesn’t want to go on to boy scouts, but I’m not that selfish.  Yet.  Dinner was hot dogs that were amazingly un-burnt. Chips, chips, cookies, and watermelon.

I’ve always had a hard time keeping track of Jacob after it gets dark.  I know I should trust him more, but it’s hard sometimes.  In any case I got him glow sticks, and that made it easy to keep tabs on him, so that is going to get added to the list standard equipment when I’m camping with him.  He finally ran out of energy at 1030. 

Did I mention that it was cold?  I checked the weather on my cell phone, at bedtime it was 39 degrees.  Once I got him into his sleeping bag and he warmed up he was out like a light.  I woke up a couple of times in the middle of the night, with Jacob partially laying on me.  Ugh.

The morning plan was to get up pack and leave.  Breakfast was on your own.  The Raccoons that visit cub world in the night at Beaumont must be the best fed animals in the world.  Cub scouts seem to drop as much food as they eat.  In the morning I checked out the picnic table we had used for dinner the night before, and there was food still just sitting out.  None of it appeared to have been disturbed; so either it was too cold to the raccoons to come out, or they were so full that they just weren’t hungry.

In either case us people were hungry, so we stopped at IHOP on the way home… 

Art

I like art.  I especially like art that’s profane.  I just want something that elicits strong feelings.

So here are some of the things I’ve found that, well, fit the bill.

So, is everyone offended now?

Breakfast

Jacob’s milk, hash browns, and scrambled eggs - $1.50

My milk, hash browns, and scrambled eggs - $1.50

Sitting at the kids table in the cafeteria to eat - Free

Jacob’s excitement over buying me breakfast - Priceless. 

Irrational Wolf Spiders

Why yes, we went camping; again.  This time it was just going to be the Alpacas, the older boys were off with the Scoutmaster doing an Order of the Arrow thing. 

So, in planning, the other assistant scoutmaster and I decided to up the food budget from $1.25 per person per meal from the Braised Boy Scout trip to $2.00!  We figured we would eat like kings!  So, thanks to email firewalls, enough food was bought for all six of us.  Why am I thanking an email firewall?  Well that would be because the other guy never got the email that confirmed that there would in fact be nine of us there, not six. Which turned out to be $1.33 per person per meal, well at least it was cooler even if we didn’t get to eat like kings. 

Also this time we didn’t need tents as we rented a shelter at one the county parks.  I had been led to believe from the descriptions that it was a shelter that had multiple walls and would be semi-bug proof.  Reality was a little different.

But that was OK, I had my tent, just in case, and our bug-a-phobe had one too.  As it turned out though the one he brought had a broken poll, so I got mine out instead.

During our gourmet lunch of creamy peanut butter and squeezable grape jelly on white bread (and chips) we had visitors.

It was a wonderful tradeoff, we made sure their lunch fire went out, and the boys got to interact with the horses.  They were told how to approach a horse and the proper way to act around them, and what was ok when touching them.

Little did I know at the time that in October the plan includes Horseback riding, but I get ahead of myself.

After lunch we went for a hike and started working on some of their requirements. Many plants and animals (or signs of animals, aka horse poo) were seen, and many fun things were done.

Yes that’s my hand, and yes I put it there intentionally.  The skyline was bright enough that it was messing up the picture.  Hey, what do you expect?  It’s a 1.3 Megapixel camera on my cell phone.

As we were walking back to our “campsite” I got to have an interesting conversation with a couple of the boys about what we choose to remember.  Since it was almost 9/11 remembering was on my mind anyway.  I was talking with them about what I remembered from when I was in college.  No, not about the class work specifically, but about the most vivid memories.  I pointed out to them that I had a good time in college, but the specific instances that I remembered most were the bad ones.  Like when one of my professors called me a “stupid American peasant.”  I pointed out to the boys that they get to choose how and what they remember.  The two that were listening are the only two in the group that would actually hear what I was saying.  They honestly looked thoughtful instead of just rolling their eyes the way mine would have.

Nazrat (Tarzan spelled backwards – Something my dad always said: why THAT stuck, I’ll never know), would have been proud.

After the walk we had 7-11 year olds, out enjoying nature, with nothing to do.  Nothing bad could even come of that. Right? The post walk, pre-dinner down time was memorable too.

So first, one of the boys made an absolutely absurd claim which the other boys couldn’t leave alone.  The ensuing argument probably lasted 30 minutes, all of which were painful, but we’re supposed to let them work that stuff out.  I did think during the argument, that instead of calling them the Spitting Alpacas, that Braying Jackasses might be more appropriate.

The other was more typical.  One of the boys was standing there talking, turned to run, caught his foot on a picnic table, and belly flopped on the concrete.  Our troop has several adults that are trained medical personnel in real life.  Luckily none of them were there.  Dr. Steve to the rescue!  The Belly Flopper has a skinned knee, and a sore arm.  I got a couple of the boys to do the first aid on the knee while I checked out his arm (it landed under his body when he fell).  He had full range of motion in the arm, and forearm without any pain, and I squeezed lightly near the elbow and it didn’t hurt.  I told his parents what happened and suggested that they may want to call their pediatrician to make sure.

Dinner was Beef Stew, French bread, and monkey bread; all right from the good nasty at the top of the food pyramid.  What else did you expect for what we spent?

So, as the sun set and we enjoyed our campfire the bugs started to come out.  Specifically Walking Sticks and Wolf Spiders.  At first it wasn’t so bad, but once it was fully dark, then the fun began.  I let our resident bug-a-phobe use my tent.  So my sleeping bag, and air mattress where laying one the ground, in the open.  After I had caught the Walking Stick, on my face I decided that I ought to check my bed.  Low and behold there was a gigantic wolf spider, on my pillow.

One of the boys tried to kill it, and missed.

At which time the bug-a-phobe completely lost it.  I’m not going to get into details of the next couple of hours other than to say we ended up having someone come and get him.  He never would have fallen asleep.  Once we told him he was going home he calmed down immediately, so at least I know we made the right choice for him. 

In the Boy Scouts’ adult leader training they said: “Boy Scouts is FUN, with U in the middle”, and he wasn’t having fun at that point.  From what I was told the next day all he talked about on the way home was how much fun he had that day. 

Ultimately I think the bug-a-phobe’s "moment" is going to be a good learning experience for everyone involved.  For him in knowing that he can trust us to help him, for the Boys in compassion (there wasn't any "grow-up" or "shut-up" or other mean spirited stuff), and for the Troop as it seems to me that the way we've been doing things is "because that's the way we've always done it."  The bug-a-phobe’ isn't going to fit into the standard "box" that the Troop is used to; he is a good kid and I would hate to lose him over camping. I think that we can accommodate him and all be better for it.

I got to thinking: What exactly are the camping requirements of boy scouts?

I've been looking in the Boy Scout book, and as far as I can it is only 20 nights camping, he has managed four nights already.  20 nights is needed for the Camping Merit Badge which an Eagle requirement.  I think if we choose his campouts carefully, we can get him there.

What do I mean by "choose his campouts carefully" - again, I've looked, and camping doesn't have to be like it was at the shelter.  It can include "cabin camping" which might work; also we could make him the King of Cold Weather.  Maybe he could do the cold weather stuff when the bugs aren't out.  Doesn't mean he won't fixate on something else, but it's worth a try.

On Sunday, while the pancakes were lollygagging on the griddle we talked shortly about "irrational fears", and that sometimes things get in your head and you just can't keep them out. We were running a little late getting home, but it was a good time.

Randomness, Part III

Lunch

I headed over to what is left of Borders today at lunch to see what was left.  I went in with a small list of things that would be nice to get.  I didn’t find any of them. 

What I did find was kind of interesting.  I picked up a shrink-wrapped cookbook from an author I like (Jaime Oliver), a book about cheese, and a picture filled guidebook to poultry.  I got not only Chickens, but ducks too!  None of those items I even thought I wanted when I walked out the door for lunch.

Sometimes it feels good to just roll with it, and do things you don’t normally do.  I still needed lunch, so I headed somewhere I don’t typically go.

While I was sitting there enjoying the ambiance and fine food; I noticed a man standing by the highway off ramp with a sign.  I watched panhandling for change while I ate.  The last time I gave money to a panhandler was in San Francisco down by Fisherman’s Wharf.  There is a guy there who hides behind a potted ficus tree, scares the living crap out of site-seeing tourists, and then while they are all out of sorts hits them up for money.  He got me for the three ones in my pocket, and the Japanese tourists across the street who were watching presumably got good pictures they can remember forever. Today was going to be different. 

When I was done eating, before I got into my car, I fished a ten dollar bill out of my wallet and gave it to him.  He seemed genuinely surprised, and certainly grateful.  As I got into my car to go, he walked over to some nearby bushed, got a half empty bottle of water, and a couple of small bags of chips out of it, and hurried across the street.  He was obviously on a mission. So I sat and watched for a minute.

A woman appeared from behind a tree across the street and met him.  He showed her what he had, she smiled.  They then walked together, straight over the gas station convenience store, and I went back to work; where I get to do all of the “expected” things once more.

I almost wish I had given him a twenty instead.

Cold War

Good evening, my fellow citizens:

This Home Owner Government, as promised, has maintained the closest surveillance of the Mouse Soviet military buildup in my Basement on the island of Cuba. Within the past week, unmistakable evidence has established the fact that a series of offensive holes missile sites is now in preparation on my stone foundation that imprisoned island. The purpose of these holes bases can be none other than to provide a vermin nuclear strike capability against my kitchen the Western Hemisphere.

I have been checking my kitchen for intruders since I declared mission accomplished.

While I have seen no “evidence” of kitchen raids; a quick look around the house has found:

Time for more concrete patch, and I think will start setting the traps outside and see what I get.

A Hill of Beans – Pinto, v2

So, last time, I wanted creamier beans and a redder appearance. 

I again started with four slices of bacon and used the kitchen shears to slice it into ribbons.  This time though I added diced onion (no shallot), a couple of clovers of garlic, and two Jalapeños. 

Instead of raw Chorizo I used smoked one that I diced into cubes.  Then I added half a can of diced tomatoes.  I got the creamier beans and redder appearance, and the second try was better than the first.  However, there is still room for improvement.

Next time, instead of the canned tomatoes to add acidity and color; I’ll paprika for color and some diced cherry tomatoes for acidity.  Also I need to find a better smoked Chorizo.  This one tasted more like pepperoni, which is ok, but I wanted more heat, and more flavor out of it.  This version was the consistency of baked beans, which is not what I wanted.  I may either mast half a can of beans, or I guess I could use some re-fried beans.  I want it kind of “pasty”. 

My First

On Open Letter to my first Weber Grill.

Why did you run away?  It’s been over ten years now since you left, and I still think about you sometimes.  It was the night before Father’s Day when you left.  Why did you go?  Did you like the houses across the street better than the apartment we were in?  Did you not like our neighbor, the gas grill?  I had such big plans for us on that Father’s Day.

It was painful, but I have moved on.  The grill I’m living with now is much more understanding.

After 10 years now we are still going strong, even after the warping grease fire that’s made it hard to get the grill properly placed.  Our relationship is so strong that we’ve had a small barrel grill and a smoker move in.  There isn’t even a hint of jealousy. 

Even so, after all these years I still think about you.  I guess you never forget your first.

Scooter-less

So the time has come and gone and the spot in the front yard that I thought was the 2011 rabbit nest was, in fact, empty.

Un-Americanized

I like Chinese food; however what we usually get here is Americanized Chinese food.  It’s not bad though I have had Overly-Americanized Chinese food which is nasty.  I have been looking for Un-Americanized Chinese food.  I once heard that a truly authentic Chinese restaurant typically only prepares one of the eight regional cuisines of china.   

I have finally found one near me house.  The Famous Szechuan Pavilion 

Its in what used to be a drive through coffee shop.  Ordering my food was difficult.  Though the owner/cook/waitress/busboy’s English was surely better than my Mandarin.  I got the Dan Dan Noodles.  When she asked it I wanted “Small or medium” I though she meant how big a bowl, you know, like a whole or half order kind of thing.  So I got the “medium” Portion size isn’t what she meant.  I found out what she meant was a small or medium spoonful of Sichuan pepper stuff.  My mouth was nice and numb after the first three or four bites.  I could still taste it, but the heat sort of disappeared.

So today at work my Chinese Cultural Consultant brought me:

Sichuan peanuts! 

Very tasty, and not mouth numbing!  The best part though was the back of the package.

I think that’s a great symbol for “CRAP THAT’S HOT!”

Randomness, Part II

Kansas

There’s no salad in Kansas.  Well, there is no good salad in Kansas.  Once, back in the 90s, when Sandy was in graduate school I got to go along as free labor for the field work portion of her thesis.  We were in Kansas to visit a salt mine in the lovely town of Salina (which rhymes with Vagina.  What?  You thought I’d say Regina?)  Anyway.  While we were there I once had gotten the “salad bar” with dinner.  It consisted of browning iceberg lettuce, some carrots, Bac-O bits, and ranch dressing.  Things have progressed, some, in the last 15 years.  We were in Kansas City recently and I managed to get this:

At least the Iceberg lettuce wasn’t brown – yet.  We weren’t there for the salad though.  We were there for The Great Wolf Lodge.  It’s a hotel with an indoor water park attached.

There was also miniature golf

What is the costume he is wearing you ask?  That’s part of the other attraction – Magi Quest. 

It’s an adventure game, with stations set up all around the hotel.  Basically is runs the kids around in circles all day.  We spent two nights, which was just about right.  Any longer and I think they would have started getting bored.

This was almost what I would call a vacation.  I got to spend some time sitting on my butt reading and generally doing nothing.  My favorite part may have been finding this on the way

Once, a long time ago I have vague memories of going on a vacation as a kid.  Every time we stopped for a meal, it was at Stuckey’s, but that’s a different story.