Welcome to the HHMO!

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I’m surprised someone hasn’t already created this: a Hippy HMO.

You’ve broken your arm, and show up at the Hippy HMO. The highly trained staff springs into action. First they check your medical records to find your astrological sign (Virgo sun, Pisces moon, your mid-heaven is in Virgo, your rising is in Scorpio, and your Saturn is in Aries), your Chinese zodiac animal (horse), your qigong temperament (earth constitution), and blood type (Type B, which means you’re wild, active, a doer).

A technician starts a Kirlian camera so the doctor can see the color and strength of your aura. A reiki partitioner does energy work over your arm to speed the healing process and align your chakras, while a shaman finds the proper crystals for you to carry in your pocket.

Just before you leave, the pharmacy of the HHMO provides you with a homeopathic 30C dilution of wolf’s bane and a copper bracelet.

Get well soon!

A Mystery House

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I’ve been haunting the real estate ads lately, looking for the right opportunity to move closer into town. And one house in particular has caught my eye, but… there are some mysteries about it.

It’s a house I’ve noticed several times before, as I’ve biked through that area. It’s an attractive house; it catches the eye. When I spotted the ad for it online, I started thinking about it much more, and started looking more critically.

I paged through all of the photos on the online ad, and oohed and aahed over how gorgeous the place looks. When I showed the photos to someone else, she noticed that each photo had a little copyright in the corner “© 2005”. Hmm, that’s weird. Why wouldn’t they use current photos?

Then I looked at the price history on the house. It was initially listed for sale a little over a year ago. The price was dropped after a month, dropped again two weeks later, and again two weeks after that. And that’s it; the price has stayed at that level for a year. Strange.

I decided to check the place out in person, just walking around the property. I pull up and park in the driveway. Hrm, the cement is buckling in a number of places; that’s going to have to be replaced before too long. The back gate is ajar, so I continue up the driveway and into the back yard. That gorgeous back deck from all the photos? Completely rotted through in a couple of places. Oh look, and there’s a sleeping bag and a couple of pieces of clothing on the deck; some homeless guy has been camping here. Thank goodness he’s not here right now.

There’s a one-car garage with a massive roll-up door made entirely of glass panels. Reminds me of Cameron’s dad’s garage in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. (Yeah, I’m dating myself.)

Peering through the windows of the house, there are scenes of work abruptly stopped. One room has a few dozen scraps of Cat 5 cable littering the floor. The kitchen appliances are missing. Another room has cans of paint sitting in the middle of the floor. I can’t say why, but none of this feels like current work. This all feels like scenes of renovation started a year or more ago and abruptly abandoned.

There’s a basement level, but I don’t see many windows that reach down there. How dungeon-like is that space?

Hrm, some of the wooden fencing around the property is also rotted and falling.

But still, the basic house is very handsome, and looks intact; no signs of decay are visible. The location is pretty great. And given that the price was set a year ago and the list of repairs even my untrained eye can see, you’d think the price could be negotiated down even further.

So, I’m cautious, but still intrigued. I guess the next stage will be to look through the house with a realtor. And if I’m still interested, walk though it with Contractor Dan, and get him to make a list of things that would have to be fixed before moving in, things to fix within the first year, longer-term projects, etc. Let’s see how this unfolds.

Cooler Heads Prevail

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Yesterday, I was happily biking, enjoying a gorgeous sunny day. I was on a surface street with light traffic, rolling in the curbside bike lane. I heard a vehicle approach me from behind, and then a car horn blared.

Le sigh. Another driver with a grudge against bicyclists? I’m not blocking the lane, or preventing anyone from passing, and still someone wants to give me grief? In the past, I’ve struggled with finding the right response in such circumstances. Sometimes I ignore it completely, but sometimes I let my temper show, which I inevitably regret.

This time, I sat up a little straighter and shrugged with my left arm, trying to convey “Really? You’ve got a problem with this?”

The vehicle pulled up even with me, a white minivan with the windows rolled down. The woman driving shouted, “I’m sorry! My hand slipped; total accident.”

And instantly, just like that, I was so glad I hadn’t responded to her horn with anger! I could have barked at her or flipped her off, making her indignant, raising my blood pressure, and likely giving one more driver one more reason to be grumpy about bicyclists.

I called out, “Thank you! I appreciate that!” and the minivan pulled away.

Memorial Day weekend!

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Memorial Day weekend in Sunriver, wherein I am reminded that it does not suck being me.

Twenty miles of trail riding past Benham Falls and Dillon Falls.

“It’s hard when it’s fun.” “It’s fun when it’s hard!”

Twisted Tree:

“Fortune favors the depraved! Err…, I mean, the prepared.”

The view from the hottub:

Single track riding around Cultis Lake, until we were stopped by snow drifts.

“My robots match my shoes!”

“No, I’m not in a huge rush. I’m not chomping at the bit. Well…, I’m licking at the bit.”

The Inflatability of the Pope!

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I was talking to one of the girls and she shared with me a joke one of her friends made, about how the Catholic church might deflect some of the current criticism if they would only reframe their stance on a significant issue; instead of focusing on the infallibility of the pope, they should focus on the infelatability of the pope.

Of course, I completely misunderstood her and thought she said “the inflatability of the pope”. And frankly, I think that’s a far better idea!

Think about it; wouldn’t you be charmed by any church that had a giant inflatable cartoon pope set up in the yard? On maybe an inflatable Jesus? Or how about a pope made of thin ripstop mounted on a fan, making a dancing pope that waves his arms ecstatically?

I think I’m onto something here!

Or maybe I’m just on something.

The hair curtain dragging in my mouth

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Since college (the first time), I’ve kept some combination of beard and mustache. I’ve also been fairly diligent about keeping it tidy. The beard is groomed short, almost stubble length, and the mustache neatly trimmed above the line of my upper lip.

Until recently.

I’m participating in a staged reading of Two Gentlemen of Lebowski. On the very first day of rehearsals, my dear directrix and stage mistress asked (insisted?) that I grow out my mustache for the role. Me, being innocent and gullible said, “Oh sure! Why not?”

What was I thinking? We’re heading into the second month of working on this, and my ‘stache is driving me mental! I’ve got this bleedin’ hair curtain dragging in my mouth every time I open it to speak, drink, eat, kiss, et al.

It’s getting long enough that I have to try to brush it sideways, parted at the filtrum. Yep, my mustache has flybacks. The 70’s me would be so proud. It’s long enough that I can pul and twist the ends of my mustache, like Snidely Whiplash. I’m “this” close to buying mustache wax.

My deepest gratitude to those few remaining lovelies who are still willing to kiss me whilst I’m in this state. Good sports, they are.

Oooh baby, check out my local maximum!

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My nakedness is a sinusoidal function.
Sorta.

Every day, I start and finish the day with the same maximum value of nakedness.

But the minimal values of nakedness each day are also sinusoidal, varying through the year.
The highest minimal value of nakedness would occur during the Summer months when I might be wearing as little as shorts, or shorts and a tee.
The lowest minimal value of nakedness would be in Winter when I might be wearing long underwear, pants, two shirts, a coat, gloves, scarf and a toque.

I need to ponder how to construct such a function.

Phlegm Violins against Wimmin

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This term, I’m taking a class in American Cinema, and the teacher has an unusual way of taking attendance. At the end of each class, he has each student take out an index card and write a couple of sentences about a question he gives us. This gives the teacher an easy way to take attendance and gets the students thinking critically about certain film topics. Often, the prof will start the next class by sharing a few of the comments from the previous set of cards.

We just finished watching the 1931 production of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and the topic was whether the movie was more science fiction or horror.

This morning, the prof again shared a selection of comments, and the last one finished with the line, “… and I don’t find anything entertaining about violence against women.”

Which really made me grind my teeth.

What’s the implication? That violence against men is entertaining? Or at least, less objectionable that violence against women? For what it’s worth, let me point out that the movie included plenty of violence against men, yet somehow that didn’t merit any mention at all.

I found myself wondering what the classroom reaction would be if I had said, “I don’t find anything entertaining about violence against white people.”

After the discussion, we watched a documentary about the genre of war/combat movies. I’ll be interested to see if that raises any similar objections about the entertainment value of violence.

Motley Fool blows it

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Today, Motley Fool posted an article stating that companies should pay stock dividends. Referring specifically to Steve Jobs’ stated position of not paying dividends on shares of Apple (NASDAQ symbol AAPL), Motley Fool columnist Matt Koppenheffer said, “But if you ask me, all of this is simply corporate sleight of hand by Apple attempting to convince shareholders that something that looks and smells like a cow pie is, in fact, something other than a cow pie.”

This strikes me as foolishness.
I’ll tell you how I look at it.

Your position on dividends hinge on whether you’re a short-term investor, or a long-term investor. If you’re in a stock for the short-term, then to hell with the future of the company, you want your money right now. You want dividends paid every quarter, and the more the merrier.

If you’re a long-term investor, making some extra scratch each term isn’t nearly as interesting as seeing the company continue to innovate, grow and succeed over the long haul.

Personally, I’m in it for the long haul. I want the company to have cash reserves to weather economic downturns, to make strategic corporate acquisitions, and to allow flexibility to explore new markets.

And while we’re at it, let’s look at the historical record. Apple stock has shown tremendous growth over the past several years without paying any dividends. Exactly what is the motivation for changing that formula now?

Bottom line, I think Motley Fool blew it on this one.

Full disclosure: I’m a former employee of Apple, and a current stock holder. I don’t think those facts affect this article, but maybe you do.

“… and this is your brain on mathematics!”

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Last weekend, I joined a group ride and ended up chatting with one of my fellow riders. It turns out she’s going back to school for a degree in Environmental Studies and we talked about that for a bit. Then I told her I also had recently returned to school, chasing a degree in math. Her eyebrows raised and she said “Math, huh?”, as if to say, “Oh, you’re one of those.” I smiled wryly. I understand that we live in a largely mathphobic society, but does that mean being a math major makes me a freak?

She followed up by asking, “What are you going to do once you get the degree? Do you want to teach?” I hesitated for a longish time, lost in thought, and finally said, “The answer is about 80% ‘No’.” And then cringed. Yeah, okay, so my brain is broken by mathematics.