Day 4: 500 Miles

It was definitely strange that I ended up with very little to do at work today. I got to the office, handled a few minor issues for people, did some setup for something that’s going to arrive on Monday, cleaned up a bit, and said my goodbyes. I was done in less than two hours, but today was easily the busiest day. I started by running a few errands.

There were a handful of things I needed at Walgreens, so I did some shopping there. There was a place nearby that was named “The Brooklyn Water Bagel Company”, promising authentic New York Bagels. I had to investigate. I showed the cashier my New York State driver’s license and told her I’d be judging…and sure enough, they weren’t kidding. Maybe it’s the water and maybe it isn’t, but whatever their secret is, I can confidently state that it’s possible to get a real bagel in Florida.

Before I left New York, I’d wanted to get a haircut, but I ran out of time. Incidentally, my company has two clients in Florida, they’re about 30 minutes away from each other, and the second one is a salon. Guess what I did.

Kim is a solid hairdresser, and had me in and out in less than an hour, which is epic for a same-day appointment. I was appreciative of the time she spent, and I think she did a good job. She even had something she wanted me to try to help bring back a bit of hair, because yes, I’m at that point in my life now. We had a good discussion; I gave some idea as to what I was doing down here, and she reciprocated by describing some issues she was having with a contractor. It was nice to see her again, though I was a bit annoyed that she refused to take my money.

Kim’s salon was in the opposite direction of my next destination: my friend Brittany’s house. One of the very few friends from high school with whom I keep in regular contact, Brittany and I made tentative plans to see each other before I left. I appreciated her flexibility with respect to timing, since it changed multiple times over the course of the planning phase. I wasn’t planning on doing any of the work I did to begin with, and then the work came around, and then the “best available day” switched a bit, and we finally ended up with “Friday, after work…whenever that is; I’ll call you before I leave”. Not great plans, but the best I could do…and her family was all the way on board with it.

It was nearly a four hour drive to Brittany’s house. Did you know there are cows in Florida? There are. Like, lots of them. A lot more than I was expecting. I was similarly surprised at how many of the cows had an entourage with them. Herons and other long-necked fowl are common sights, but I was very surprised that they camped out around the cows as they grazed. Trailer parks were a very common sight on the way; there were many trailer/RV areas, most dedicated to senior retirement. The sun was waning while I drove, and while there was rain to be had (as it had done for much of the day before) the sun poked through the clouds as I continued on. I also made my first stop for gas in this car. A conservative $20 regular got me fairly close to full, but not as much as I was expecting. this Camry’s 16-gallon tank would readily explain why the range estimates exceeded my Corolla’s 12, despite getting similar gas mileage. On the way, I caught up with my coworkers, getting my billable time documented and discussing a few issues that they were addressing on their end. My one coworker David is a dyed-in-the-wool Ohio State graduate; while this was no secret, a lengthy discussion regarding his feelings about the car in front of me with the license plate “IA ST8R” was, apparently, worthy of contempt. He’s one of maybe six people who used his turn signal when switching lanes, so for being a persona non grata, he was quite considerate.

At long last, Brittany and  I were reunited. It was nearly seven years since her family moved away from New York; I hadn’t seen her since. Probably more happy to see me than Brittany was Brittany’s mom, who has considered me like one of her own children for quite some time. Brittany’s sister Rachel wasn’t going to be around, but I did get to see Brittany’s father as well; he and I find no shortage of topics to discuss, either. We sat in their immaculately designed living room for a little under an hour and caught up; I recounted my hotel-hell story and described some of the work I did; Brittany and her mom caught me up on Florida life and wedding planning.

Shortly after Brittany’s Fiancee arrived, the three of us headed out to grab dinner. It worked out well because I did want a picture at the beach, even if I didn’t get a chance to do actual beach things. Brittany is a street performer at a beach that is a nightlife center in the area. Her hula hooping skills and other acrobatic talents combined with her sparking personality and clown training are all things which make her show incredibly entertaining to watch…however, she wasn’t performing that night. We got to take the beach photo, and Daniel, one of the other performers with whom Brittany is friendly, started his show shortly after.

Daniel’s four month old dog is adorable; I was so glad to be able to pet him and take a photo. Daniel opened the show with some tricks with his dog; this helped build the initial crowd. After the dog tricks were done, he showed off his contortionist talents by using his feet to put on a hat while doing a handstand on some short poles. Some humor was helpful to gain additional attention as he fit himself through a tennis racket in multiple directions. His denouement was his ability to free himself from a straitjacket while riding a seven foot tall unicycle. It was definitely impressive, especially as he continued speaking with the audience as he did so. I was also pleasantly surprised to hear him give a brief call-to-forgiveness at the end of his show, offering Bibles to people if they wanted one, irrespective if they put money in his hat.

After Daniel’s show, Brittany, Skyler (Brittany’s fiancee) and I went to dinner. I’m not the biggest fan of seafood, but avoiding it on the pier was like trying to find a good cheeseburger in Jerusalem. So, butterfly shrimp it was, and I will say that it was quite enjoyable. The two of them discussed how they met, and told stories about their time dating and such, which was very entertaining. Skyler is a Mass Effect fan as well. He doesn’t think Brittany will enjoy trying to play it, but we concurred she’ll romance Garrus if she does.

After dinner, we headed back to Brittany’s house. Mom was watching a Hallmark Christmas movie…not sure which one, but like…does it matter? I mean, I was there for nearly an hour and the movie was on the whole time, but I couldn’t tell you anything about the pretense or context upon which the story was built. I was too busy catching up with Brittany’s dad. We discussed housing construction, state politics, people from churches we’d attended together in the past, and several other topics. It was nice to catch up with him as well.

While it was made known that the guest room was open to me, I needed to get back to my hotel. The rental car had to be back in the morning, my stuff was still in the hotel, and the drive to Orlando was far longer coming from the opposite coast, so the three hour drive back to the hotel had to commence.

This route was far quieter, and involved a lengthy stretch along a highway called Alligator Alley…no kidding, that’s what it’s named on Google Maps. A phone call or two took place as I drove, Daily Audio Bible taking up the rest. I was back at my hotel a bit before 1.

Day 3: Cloning

My phone didn’t wake me up in the morning. This was a good sign – there were no fires causing my coworkers to wake me up. Ordinarily I’m take-it-or-leave-it with hotel breakfast, but knowing that it’s something that causes my mother an oddly high level of ecstasy, I took a few moments to get coffee and one of those DIY Belgian waffles before I headed back to work.

There were a few things that needed to be addressed; some users were a bit confused regarding where certain things were, and e-mail needed to be configured, but for the most part, everyone was where they wanted to be in less than 90 minutes. There was some additional back-end work I needed to do, but today’s big job was upgrading everyone’s RAM and giving them Solid State Hard Drives. Once again, this would require some after hours work, and I couldn’t even start the process on the unattended computers because “Santa” (aka FedEx) hadn’t arrived with the parts yet. So, I went back to the hotel, made a phone call, and took a nap.

My arrival back at the office led me to meet some surprising wildlife: iguanas. Big ones. One easily three feet long. Geckos, I expected. The huge lizards…not so much, but it was nice to see. Work started up again, and this time, I *was* able to do things in parallel. I thought I was going to get out at a reasonable hour! …but while I had the first half of the computers done in two hours, the others were…less cooperative. Some just took an oddly long time, some involved an attempted drive clone and a subsequent failure…there was chaos. So, I got all the easy ones done, and went out for some sushi before round two began.

I took some time to reply to some text messages I’d been neglecting to return. It was nice to catch up with some people. The sushi was fine, but I was surprised at the tab. An upcharge for soy paper is common, but three bucks a roll? That was more than I’d expected. The outdoor dining was nearly perfect in its weather, and I enjoyed the outing.

Back to the grindstone, and the last three computers would take another four hours to finish their installs. I was glad none of the drives failed in the process – two of them gave the sort of feedback indicating that the drives were likely to fail soon, so I’m glad I thought to do this. All of the computers came back up the way they were supposed to, making me pretty confident that the next day would involve a very minimal amount of work. Back to the hotel, back to sleep.

Day 2: Work Hard. Sleep Hard.

Morning couldn’t come fast enough. I packed up everything in my room with the intent of not staying in it another night, depending on how things worked out. On my way out, I went to talk to the person at the front desk regarding the discussed refund. Well, the wonderfully helpful and apologetic young lady from last night was replaced by “Florida’s Textbook Karen”. She condescendingly informed me that since my reservation was made through, that I would need to go through them to receive my refund…and then, she’d still have to approve it. Realizing that this discussion wasn’t going to be a fruitful one, I said “Okay, I will”, and headed to my car for my first day on the job site.

I walked into the office where I was to work for the next several days. This office has its headquarters in Manhattan, so many of the people here, I had spoken with before. Many of them have put in helpdesk tickets and phone calls over the years, so it was nice to put names to faces, and vice versa. With that, I got to work.

I won’t bore you with technical details, but suffice it to say that there was a lot to do. I got to my first milestone, and then headed to get some food. A local Cuban restaurant had its Wednesday special as arroz con pollo and…whatever those delicious plantains are that I can never seem to make. I was initially planning on getting something a bit different, but this was easily the best arroz con pollo I’ve ever had, and the staff was nice. The late Ralphie May (and later Gabriel Iglesias) have sketches regarding Cuban coffee, so I definitely had to have some. It’s strong, it’s sweet, it’s got no milk, and it does indeed come in a cup the size of a shot glass with a handle.

Back to work, and another round of setup was underway. A nontrivial part of it had to do with untangling some of the mess; their old IT person set things up pretty well given the circumstances, but it was time to improve on this without making a mess. More nerdy things, along with a bit of waiting until everyone else left for the day.

During that time, I made a couple of phone calls; between, the CFO of the client who was covering the hotel, and the staff-recommended hotel nearby, I had new reservations, a green-light to cover the cost, and my dispute underway for the old hotel. It was nice to know I had somewhere to go that night…and that it wouldn’t be Hotel Chlamydia.

The computers I was working on were nearly ten years old, and weren’t high-end units at the time, either. This made the work very time consuming; a delivered Papa John’s pizza was dinner, and its consumption was the only respite once the staff left. Despite only having eleven computers in the office, attempting to do all the work in parallel is a surefire way to make sure that a step is skipped on one computer or another. One computer failed at step 1; I knew it needed to be the first thing on my list the next day. It was 2:30 in the morning when I left. I took a moment to provide some documentation to my coworkers back home, along with a note for the office manager, in the event there was a show-stopper at 8:30 in the morning when they arrived. I knew it’d be 10 before I would arrive.

When I checked into my new hotel room…it was the polar opposite of the room I’d stayed in. The room was spotless – there wasn’t a surface I wouldn’t be comfortable eating off of. Everything had a contemporary styling, there was a kitchen area complete with a dishwasher and a two-burner stove, and the bathroom was immaculate, stocked with Paul Mitchell shampoos and conditioners. I’d felt the hotel was a bit more expensive than I was hoping to pay, but I can most certainly say that I got what I paid for – a perfect night’s sleep in a super comfortable bed.

Day 1: Let’s Jetset

Is it weird to have “being able to wait for a flight in the Delta SkyLounge” one of those things on my bucket list, as if it is an accurate reflection of having “made it”? The SkyLounge means you either fly on a near-monthly basis, or you’ve got enough money to justify spending $550 a year to have a platinum American Express card…itself an odd thing for me to reconcile from a recipient’s perspective – It makes sense for Amex; anyone who spends that much on having a credit card probably doesn’t pay much in interest and those free airline tickets have to get paid for somehow. Maybe it’s like owning a Cadillac – I’ve heard on more than one occasion that it’s common to not want a Cadillac until after you own it.

Until then, today marked a slightly less ostentatious milestone: It’s my first time flying first class. Before I started writing this out at 34,000 feet, it was a trip from the LIRR to Kennedy. I’ve taken this route before, but I was surprised that the MTA is letting all tickets be off-peak, but then again, there were maybe a dozen people in a train car that normally seats over 80. I’d blame Covid concerns, but while the mask requirements are well laid out, enforcement is, shall we say, inconsistent. It’s been years since I rode the LIRR daily, but I oddly miss the commuter rail.

One of the core tenets of being a commuter is the sense of, ehm, community. New Yorkers have a reputation for being curt, but if you’re visiting New York and find yourself lost on a train or subway, fear not. Long time commuters develop an instinctive compulsion to shepherd confused travelers to where they need to go. I learned that this instinct doesn’t atrophy. A mother about my age and her two children got off the AirTrain with me. She seemed a bit confused about which direction to go to get to the terminal, but that instinct kicked in and I made sure she got on the right elevators and followed the proper signage to get where she needed to go.

Getting to the terminal early worked out particularly well; I was able to get some work done for a client while I was sitting at the terminal. In between VPN and SSH sessions, I started making my campaign plans for when I take over the world run for president. My plan is to ignore the wedge issues entirely. I’ll let Congress bicker about healthcare and gun control and taxes. What’s my starting point? Free headphones in airport terminals, and a $10,000 fine for using the speakerphone for any reason. I like Cinemasins, but hearing that incessant ‘ding’ while someone was watching using their speaker for nearly an hour was, in my opinion, justifiable cause to perform the sorts of actions that would have caused me to miss my flight due to being detained by the TSA…then again, I feel like half the terminal would have signed affidavits saying that they saw nothing. For Youtube videos, three Facetime calls, two casino games, and a partridge in a pear tree later, and I came to a decision: mom, if you’re reading this, know that all phone calls going forward will involve me stating your legal name, address, and social security number, place of employment, and your mother’s maiden name. You will no longer be one of those people who takes speakerphone calls in public; you raised me too well to be that level of inconsiderate.

So, what’s First Class like? Well, in an amusing irony, not as good as it could have been. See, originally I was slated to get a connecting flight that changed in Milwaukee (not kidding), which would have afforded me the “real” first class experience – fold-down seats, a lounge to walk around in…the kitchen sink experience my bank account normally can’t handle. However, my reschedule meant that I got a direct flight (yay!) that included a less-awesome first class experience (boo!). That being said, the only people who got on my plane first were individuals with disabilities and active duty military, so that’s certainly fun. We have our own dedicated flight attendant handling my 20-or-so fellow travelers. I think alcohol is included, but I’m not drinking while flying…there’s just enough turbulence to make me conscious of my stomach; no need for ethanol-sourced complications. I believe it’s been almost 10 years since the last time I was given a meal on an airplane; I would imagine that my 2012 transatlantic flights included food, but I’d have to look up my travel blog to verify. Meals are chilled and served sealed; I opted for a strawberry/chicken salad. I know portions aren’t going to be the same size as a sit-down restaurant, but I most definitely look forward to eating upon landing. Sorry I forgot to take a photo of it; I’m keeping my phone in my pocket until we land. I’m reminded of the meme with a guy on a phone call, captioned “Instagram is down! Just describe your lunch to me!”

So, I landed in the airport, grabbed my luggage, and went to get my rental car. Normally, I’ve just gone to the counter and gotten one, but this particular rental car company was off-site and had shuttles. It was a bit confusing, but a few extra steps later, and I got to the counter…only to be told that my reservation was for 11AM, and since I didn’t show up for two hours after, I got a “no show”, and canceled the reservation. A call to AmEx Travel later, and I got a reservation at a different company…which was just as well because I was like-this-and-like-that about some of the policies of the first company.

I grabbed an Uber to the second counter; , I was at the other counter. They were wonderful and helpful. While I was waiting, Shark Tank was playing in the lobby. I have mixed feelings about the people who pitch their products on the show…primarily because after thirteen seasons of the show, people still seem like they’re unprepared to answer questions. Being passionate about your product or idea is one thing, but how do you barely hold back tears when someone whose focus is getting a return on their investment asks hard questions?

My Camry was documented for the handful of minor scratches and dings, and a few signatures later, I was on my way. The three hour drive was mostly empty highway; unsurprising as my journey started around 9PM. A clear night with moderate temperatures made the drive enjoyable. A taco restaurant a mile away from the hotel supplied dinner; I got my food and checked into the hotel.

I’m not the sort of person to expect to stay in an executive suite with a bottle of champagne on ice for me. Hotel amenities are largely lost on me; a bed, a bathroom, and a few electrical outlets are all I need. My room at this hotel, however, couldn’t clear that. The hallway both had multiple ‘no smoking’ signs, and the clear aroma of cigarette smoke that was readily apparent, even through my mask. When I got to the room, it was literally the worst room I’d ever been shown to. The bed wasn’t made, the towels were all used, there was a cap for a hypodermic needle on the floor near the bed…and in addition to every pillow having “moisture content”, there were two wet spots on the bed, about at waist level, and no, there wasn’t a leak on the ceiling…I’ll deal with imperfections, but that’s the sort of legitimately-concerning situation that makes me ‘nope’ my way to the front desk…after I ate my tacos of course, because I was most definitely in need of deliciousness.

So, it’s about 1AM at this point, and I get to the front desk and ask if I could get a different room; none were available, nor would there be the following nights. So, I got some extra blankets to sleep on the floor. The woman at the front desk tells me that they’ll process a refund in the morning. So, on the floor I slept, reminding myself that pretty much everyone in the New Testament had worse sleeping arrangements.

Travel, Day 3.5

It’s been a blur, and clearly I’ve been so busy that daily blogging hasn’t been something I’ve had time for. I should have a stint tomorrow to fully catch up, but I’ll at least get some bullet points out the door…

  • I have arrived in Florida safely.
  • Flying first class is lovely, well worth the Skymiles.
  • Work is going well; the people are lovely.
  • Crappy hotels are crappy.
  • Great hotels are, on the other hand, great!
  • Huge iguanas are, apparently, akin to seeing a pigeon in NYC – amusing to tourists, invisible to locals.
  • The work may be going well, but I still feel a whole lot of analysis paralysis regarding making plans about a number of things.
  • I’m safe, the food is good, the rental car is nice…a bad day on this sort of trip is still a good day.


Okay, those are the bullet points. The novels are coming as I have time to write them.

Software Tribalism

Growing up, I did lyrics projection at my church. While I’m sure most of you are familiar with PowerPoint, there’s actually a cottage industry of software expressly catering to churches. Songshow Plus was one of the more popular titles for the task, with EasyWorship having its fans. Songbase and Sunday Plus had their niche fans, and it wasn’t long before ProPresenter gave everyone a run for their money.

But my allegiance was with Mediashout. It was an absolutely fantastic piece of software all around – easy to pick up for runners, while having plenty of buttons and knobs for people like me who enjoyed customizing scripts and slides to perfection. I started on version 2.5, then 3 was a massive improvement, and even 3.5 was a model service pack. The v4 interface took a little time to grow on me, but it ultimately was the peak. V5 regressed a bit with its removal of text labels and less-customizable layout, while v6 and v7 were total overhauls that seemed to focus on users of PowerPoint and ProPresenter at the expense of seasoned Mediashout veterans like myself. Seeing three consecutive regressions in usability, I decided to reach out and ask if I could buy a license for an older version. I’ll spare you the details, but suffice it to say that it didn’t go well. I have fond memories of the glory days of Mediashout, but my inability to procure the good version has left me in a strange state of mind.

I should have no problem getting a copy of ProPresenter. But I can’t bring myself to do it. I got in countless forum battles with the ProPresenter users back in the day; getting a license is the ultimate admission of defeat…besides, if I wanted their Fisher Price UI centered around simplicity instead of raw power, that’s what my complaint is with the current version of Mediashout is, right? So, why wouldn’t I just get Mediashout?

I could get Songbase…it’s ancient, but that means it’s tightly coded and super stable, no doubt…right? Songshow is still solid and keeps its super powerful UI that still has a few niche functions Mediashout never got, so I should get that one! If I’m going to give up on Mediashout, shouldn’t I do so using a program that I would consider to be better?

Or…or…or…let’s take a bunch of steps back and ask some more fundamental questions…for example, why do I even care? I haven’t been in charge of projecting lyrics in nearly a decade. I don’t project lyrics personally…or much of anything else, for that matter. I don’t get up in front of audiences to give keynote addresses, and the handful I’ve done over the past five years, I’ve been served just fine with PowerPoint. …and even if I found myself in a scenario where I was going to do lyrics projection or even a video-centric presentation, the free, open source, cross-platform OpenLP is rock solid, effective, free, and wasn’t even close to being an option back in the year 2000 when i started.

There is clearly no reason whatsoever for me to consider buying or using any of these things…but I find myself loyal to Mediashout for no rational reason, nor for my own benefit, nor for the benefit of anyone around me. That’s not the sort of loyalty worth having. That’s not the sort of loyalty worth retaining. And it’s certainly not the sort of loyalty worth spending money to validate. It is tribalism. I am, apparently, from the tribe of Mediashout….and if there has ever been a sentence warranting introspection, it’s that one. It’s so depressing, it’s comical that I let my affinity for a software program I haven’t used in a decade live rent free in my head like this.

I’m leaving that tribe. If you’re in a tribe of some kind, make sure it’s a tribe you really want to be in.I’ll tell you this much: my tribe won’t miss me.

Emoting Over Garbage

A truck full of old computer parts is going to the scrapyard tomorrow morning…and I didn’t quite cry, but I definitely felt sad.

Not over everything, of course. A drawer full of ten-year-old access points most certainly wasn’t worth the space it was taking. An XP-era desktop who already lived a second life as a router had no future as anything but a doorstop. A computer chassis intended for a rack mount would have been great to hold onto if I had a rack to put it in, but it’s just taking up space right now. Over a dozen random routers and switches are finally freeing up their shelves. Defective hard disks, decade-old motherboards, a drawer full of unused power and RCA cables are all headed for the dump, and I couldn’t be happier.

It’s the other things that make me sad. More to the point, it’s what they represent.

I’m 35, and the odds are good that I won’t be celebrating my 37th birthday in this apartment. Over the years, I’ve accumulated projects I’ve never gotten to. There’s a touch screen computer that’s a bit slow for regular use, but would be fantastic for a wall-mounted home automation controller. I got rid of every aftermarket car stereo I’d ever owned. Firewire cables were a staple of my college years, as I captured video from mini-DV camcorders. My last two laptops haven’t had FireWire connectors, and I haven’t shot a video on those camcorders in nearly a decade. My first TV tuner card that invoked years of having a custom-built cable box is no longer usable; it found its way in the pile. The first hard drive I added to an HP tower I got on clearance when I worked at Staples to make my first NAS is in that pile. A DVD player I used to play a DVD at a party I DJ’d many years ago went in the pile, causing me to realize that, in all likelihood, I’ll never play a DVD at an event again. The real difficulty, however, is the realization that I’ve got a number of these scrapyard and garbage runs ahead…and they’re not going to get easier.

I figure that by time I move out, I will have to essentially embrace my inner Thanos – half of everything I own will have to be donated, recycled, given away, or thrown out. I can’t take it with me. I’ll probably have to get rid of my custom-made DJ console that got me through many great years. Can I part with the Adobe Premiere keyboard that hasn’t worked on the last five computers I’ve owned, but I still remember the day my mom and dad bought it for me when I was 17? How about the Stanton CD Player, something else I haven’t DJ’d with in years, but was the only piece of DJ equipment my mother ever purchased for me as a gift? Alternatively, do I keep it forever?

I know this is the beginning of me preparing for the next chapter in my life. I’m not ready for it. I know that this is how life works, and I know that trying to pretend that I can hold on to the best of my teens and twenties by keeping clothes I don’t wear and CDs I don’t use is irrational and illogical. I know it’s all “just stuff”, and that “not getting to do everything I wanted to do by now” is just a fact of life, for everyone, at every stage in life…but maybe that’s really the underlying problem: the fact that the next stage in life is a total unknown.

Every time I think about the next stage in life, it scares me…because I have no idea what it is…like, not even a little bit. After grade school, there was college. After college was ‘getting started in a career’. Now…I kinda don’t know how I feel about any of the ‘usual courses’. I don’t want to climb the corporate ladder at some Fortune 500 company, I don’t want to be a parent, I don’t want to move to a different state or country, and I don’t want to save up for a boat. But I also feel poignantly aware that at some point, life is going to happen to me. I won’t be able to wake up and just worry about the computers I have to fix tomorrow. I’ve been telling myself I’m going to practice DJing more, but that keeps not-happening, and even if I put all my free time into my turntables, it’s not a viable career field for me anymore. Defining myself by my career in general isn’t exactly a winning proposition, either.

Clearing out several hundred pounds of scrap is most definitely a step in the right direction. I know it’s good for me. I just have so much trouble being able to deal with being an adult in this context, and it makes me so incredibly scared to have such a total lack of clarity. Emptying my closets just reinforced that reality to me.

But…maybe there’s hope. I’ve done this before. I know I have. The hard drive I threw out today? Its host computer was thrown out years ago, as was the one after that – my first true NAS. I remember getting rid of the Nissan Xterra I had before my current car, and the Volvo before that. I worried that getting a sedan would make it difficult to transport my DJ gear, and while there were one or two logistical issues, the 160,000 miles I’ve driven in it have saved me so much in gas, the car paid for itself. I said goodbye to some old friends. I said hello to some new ones. I said goodbye to a very good boss. I said hello to another very good boss. Today, I said goodbye to some old computer components, and one day, I’ll be saying goodbye to this apartment.


This…this must be how faith is built: having no idea where I will be spending my 37th birthday, or how, or with whom…but believing that I will be in a place I call home, and with people I care about. Because really, when I get down to it, I realize that my mental image of an epic 37th birthday for me doesn’t involve me being surrounded by antiquated hard disks or car stereos. 


I was scrolling through today’s Instagram stories from the handful of people I follow. Nothing surprising; my hairstylist friends posted hair styles, half of them posted photos of their kids, the one getting married posted a photo with her fiancee, my politically-oriented friends posted their political memes, and my DJ friends posted their decks and their crowds.

What struck me, however, was how basically everyone had some sort of effect. There was glitter, there were song lyrics, there were animated stickers and skin smoothing makeup filters. I’ve never used any of these. Part of the reason is that many of these functions are only available on the “stories” interface. I’ve already established that I have trouble with transient photo taking…as far as I’m concerned, if it’s worth photographing, it’s worth keeping the photo for longer than a day.

But that’s what hit me: how few photo-deserving things I do anymore. There are eleven photos between my most recent one and the one I posted from Bermuda nearly two years ago. Only a dozen more before the first photo of my most recent Origin laptop; itself nearly four years old.

Now, I’m not saying that one’s life should be defined by one’s Instagram…far from it. I’m not saying that I’m basing any level of my happiness with my life on a comparison with people who have more photos. Some people have lifestyles that naturally lend themselves to photographing, and I’m happy for them. No, the point of this blog post is me lamenting the fact that I’ve never used the fun toys in Instagram or Snapchat because I’ve never been there. I’ve never been in the sort of situation where I felt like the situation justified trying those things out.

There are a handful of photos on my Instagram that have been edited, but that’s from when photo editing on Instagram was limited to a handful of color filters (“Valencia”, anyone?), while more elaborate effects remained the purview of Pixlr and PicSay. Perhaps this is the result of spending my adolescence in an era when cameras, computers, and sharing solutions were three different things. Maybe I can place the blame on the applications who limit these functions. Maybe I can split the difference and chalk it up to these features catering to those who perceive transient photo sharing as a hobby in itself, while I’m still hopelessly stuck viewing photography as documentation.

Perhaps, instead, the issue isn’t technical. Maybe I don’t post Snaps on Snapchat or Stories on Facebook or Instagram because I feel a need to be sufficiently entertaining to my followers, as if I am tasked with being entertaining for my dozen friends on Snapchat or 130ish Instagram followers, failing if I make merely a “meh” post. I can simultaneously have the awareness that “likes” aren’t reflective of social acceptance and also remember feeling negative emotions when I tried the “ask me a question” box and got zero responses. My noggin is aware that there are zero instances where Instagram is a positive basis for anything, yet “lizard brain” seems to distort all of it.

As I sit at an airport right now, waiting for a passenger to arrive, I wonder what would happen if I made the most random transient photos – Wiz Kalifah thumping over a photo of the tarmac and concrete barricades, maybe a close-up of the carpet I vacuumed today with an animated sticker, or a mirror selfie that focuses on my hand holding up a towel with ooglie eyes until I can fool the facial recognition to let me make the towel look like a sheep. Maybe this is the way to handle the lizard brain – intentionally mess with people’s stories until they either get the joke or unfollow me, rinse and repeat until lizard brain figures out that the entire point of such an exercise is self-awareness, rather than self-centeredness.

Everyplate: What I like and what I don’t

About two months ago, a Facebook friend said they had a voucher to get a free box from EveryPlate. I took him up on it, and I’ve stuck with it thus far. Every Friday, I get a box with enough ingredients to make three different meals, with approximately two servings per meal. I pay about $38 per box, shipped.

It’s important to know what one is paying for, and what one isn’t. If you’re looking at it as a replacement for grocery shopping or grocery deliveries…yeah, you’re going to be unhappy, because there is maybe $12 in groceries each box. By that metric, it’s definitely overpriced and you won’t be happy. If you’re looking for something that’s one step above TV Dinners, where the instructions are “throw this half in a pot, wait ten minutes, throw that half into the pot, wait two minutes and eat”, yeah, you’re not going to like it, either. You’ll still be washing and peeling, dicing and mixing: vegetables are delivered whole. So, with those disclaimers in mind, here’s what I like, and what I don’t…

Like: New Recipes.

I’ve been cooking for quite some time, and while I can do a good amount of cooking, I like being exposed to new recipes. I’ve got a folder full of things I’ve saved from Facebook that seem amazing, but I’ve never tried them. I haven’t loved, ehm, every plate, but being exposed to different food combinations is already a positive experience. The fact that I have a box full of stuff that will spoil if I don’t cook them gives me a reason to prioritize cooking them.

Dislike: Recipes are a bit confusing.

This may well be a personal preference, but I am not a fan of how the recipes are written. Now, to be fair, after doing a few, I see that they are indeed written to optimize for all components of the meal to be finished cooking at the same time. This is very understandable as an outcome, but the process ends up being very confusing. This makes it difficult to assess what things to substitute.

For example, one recipe had me preheating my oven to 425F…to toast two rolls. I could have done this in the toaster oven, but it wasn’t clear until three steps later that that’s all I was doing.

In another scenario, a single step involved mixing two separate things in two separate bowls…but the fact that it was two bowls was super unclear until several steps later when only a subset of the ingredients was referenced.

Overall, the recipes are clearly written in such a way that they fit in a very specific amount of space, as the recipe cards are attractively designed and obviously intended to be kept. I can appreciate wanting an attractive layout, but the number of times I had to read the same paragraph four times to figure out all six actions in that single ‘step’ is the sort of thing that makes it clear that EveryPlate optimizes for form over function.

Like: Variety

EveryPlate gives me the ability to order three new recipes every week. I can re-order things I’ve had already if I want, but the ability to try new things is part of the draw. While there are premium ‘plates’ that have more expensive cuts of beef or some such, there are always enough bundled options to ensure that my box always has something new.

Dislike: Portion Sizes

I’m one dude. This works out well, because I can almost finish both servings of a meal by myself. Some have this issue more egregious than others; some I’ve genuinely had to come back to in order to finish everything, others I’ve eaten something else after I’ve eaten all the EvetyPlate things. Perhaps it’s a bit healthier to eat a bit less each meal, and that’s fine…but I feel like there’s a happy medium between what EveryPlate ships and “the appetizers at Applebee’s which are two meals by themselves”.

Like: What Ships

The boxes come with insulating wrap and three ice packs, all of which are reusable. If you have a cat, I am certain the box is the perfect size for your cat. I’ve had the box sit outside for six hours and the ice is still solid. It’s a well done shipping solution.

Likewise, the produce is always fresh. Every pepper is clean, every tomato is perfectly red. Meat and poultry is shipped in thick, vacuum-packed plastic. It lasts for days in the refrigerator, and is always cleaned beforehand.

Dislike: Sometimes…What Ships

If you grew up in a similar household to me, you know that garlic is measured with your heart, not your measuring cup. If two recipes call for half a bulb of garlic, I get one bulb of garlic. My dude…first off, not every clove is fit to cut and chop; you can’t assume that. Second, if a recipe calls for three cloves of finely chopped garlic, it needs five. I have run out of garlic every single time I get a box. It’s cheap, but if you’re going to be that way about it, at least give me the option to add an extra bulb the way I can add extra chicken.

One recipe I had gave me the option to pickle an onion using lime juice. This seemed interesting, but I got a single, tiny lime whose juice could barely wet the bottom of the bowl. I made it work, but again, I feel like a second lime could have been helpful since not every lime juices the same.

Like I said in the beginning, it’s maybe $12 in groceries. I feel like ‘just a bit extra’ would make me feel far happier with what I receive every Friday.

Like: Habits

This certainly isn’t the sort of thing that EveryPlate explicitly sells, but EveryPlate has given me motivation to cook instead of grabbing Chipotle on the way home. Even assuming I eat both ‘servings’ and the amount ends up being $12/meal, it’s not out of line with what a barbacoa bowl ends up costing. I have done other shopping in terms of making things a bit differently than I used to, and recognize more things I can potentially make. This is helping me improve some overall habits I’ve had for some time.

Dislike: Dishes

Many of the things I cook are optimized for a single pan, a cutting board, and maybe three utensils. I hate dishes. EveryPlate meals seem to assume I have a dishwasher, apparently. It’s common for a meal to involve a frying pan, a pot, a baking pan, a cutting board, two bowls, and five utensils, in addition to the actual forks and plates used for consumption. There’s a sink full of dishes after I finish, and it’d be far easier to not-mind them if the recipes had time for simmering or something similar where I could wash dishes in between…but alas, they do not.

So, that’s my summary of being an EveryPlate subscriber. Will I keep it for now? Yeah, probably. Will I keep it for a year? Ehhh…jury’s out. We’ll see.


Tonight, I had trouble sleeping. Partially because I had four cups of coffee today, the most recent was around 9. It’s almost 2, and I’m still up. I just finished watching this week’s episode of The Rookie. The protagonist had his son going into open heart surgery.

A client at work called me today. Their server has just enough extra CPU activity to cause more noise than they’re used to. Everything looks fine, but I just checked it again to see if there were any signs of ransomware.

I’ve joked around in the past that “my networks are my children”. Maybe I’m just oversensitive, but I’m worried. Irrationally so, most likely. Somewhat like a parent has that underlying worry about the well-being of their children.

If this is what being a parent is like, even a little bit, then I seem to have a hard time believing it’s something I would want. I wish it wasn’t so terrifying.

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