[Edit: Lisa says the Jug was left, just the change was taken, but the Police took the jug to print it.]

Then, last summer, the local police department called and said they had some evidence for us to pick up so I walked over and was pleasantly surprised to be handed my 10 gallon glass water jug (without the change). I was pretty stoked to get anything back from the robbery but I was really glad to get the jug back because I’d never seen another one like it.

When I brought it home I “hid” it behind our bedroom door and then, a a few months ago, Lisa moved it into our bathroom next to my sink. Last night, when I came home from work, I headed upstairs and much to my dismay I saw the jug shattered into a jagged mess on the floor. The top 2/3 of the jug was in pieces and what remained of the base was a horridly sharp and wicked looking set of glass spikes.

Shannon was taking a shower in our bathroom so I asked her if she knew what happened and she said she broke it when she fell. I looked at the jug and the bits of glass and didn’t see any blood so I asked her to explain. She said that as she got into the shower she was carrying her shampoo bottle and then slipped and fell backwards out of the shower. As she fell the bottle flew from her hand and smashed into the jug shattering it.

Her fall happened while I was driving home and Lisa was out walking the dog. Had it been her that had hit the jug she would have died. There is no question in my mind; the way the jug shattered leaves little doubt. Instead, she was completely unharmed and unconcerned about the shattered glass and just hopped in the shower. I’m not sure how she planned on getting out of the bathroom when her shower was done considering how many large shards of glass were on the floor between the shower and the exit.

[Edit: Lisa says' Shannon actually did leave the bathroom to look for Lisa to tell her about the broken jug but didn't find her so went back in and then took her shower. If this happened I don't see how her feet didn't get sliced up.]

Fortunately she is OK and I was able to find and clean up the glass before she had to get out of the shower; at which point Lisa carried her out just to be on the safe side so I could vacuum any tiny pieces up. It’s pretty amazing, really, to think that our jug survived a theft from our second floor, 4-5 years of who knows what kind of handling before coming back to us, and then was broken by a shampoo bottle.

Now our loose change is in a tuperware box. It seems unlikely that will ever become a deadly trap.

Near the end of November we were packed up for a trip to my Mom’s house for a surprise birthday party for her 60th. We figured, as we drove, that we would stop off on occasion and do a little Geocaching so we took State Route 2 towards Ravenswood instead of the highway to escape WV. In Point Pleasant WV there is a great park that we’ve often wanted to stop at; and, since the weather was great, we got out and fired up the GPS to look for a cache or two. We found our first and then had to cross RT 2 to reach a boat launch where a second was supposedly hidden. As we walked toward the cache we heard the plaintive wail of a cat. It sounded like it was coming from closer to the boat launch where an old bearded guy and his truck were resting. We ignored the cat cry and headed onward to our cache. After finding the cache we noticed the guy and his truck were gone but we could still hear the cat. Concerned I decided to head over to see what the heck was going on and Lisa and the girls followed. Unsurprisingly it was very easy to find the source of the wail because it was so incredibly loud and sad sounding – we walked right to a tall narrow tree that was off in a little patch of briers, brambles, and trees and which contained a small pure white cat. The cat was sitting in the nook created by two branches about 40-50′ in the air. There was no easy path down and the kitten wasn’t looking too brave.

Initially I just tried to talk the cat down and, amazingly, the little guy started to work his way down. He looked scared as hell but kept on pushing forward a foot at at time, head first, down the main trunk of the tree that was no more than 6″ thick. He made it about 10′ down before deciding to take a detour out on a smaller branch that pointed toward me. This was not the path the cat needed to be taking though. the branch quickly narrowed to about 1″ thick and just got thinner and thinner until it tapered off. I quickly pulled off my sweatshirt, spread it out in my arms and plowed through the briers to get under the cat in case it fell; it still had about 30-40′ of air to fall through. The cat kept creeping forward and I kept trying, vainly, to tell the cat to turn around. Suddenly, the cat slipped and one of his back paws came off the branch. Then, just as suddenly, he slipped again and his entire body was dangling by just his front paws. He pulled and wiggled his body until he had his body fully supported again but that only lasted a moment before he slipped again and was once more holding on with just his front claws. Amazingly, in a display of sheer power, the cat continued to walk, front paw over front paw, along the branch about five or six more inches while his body dangled precariously. He tried to pull himself up but you could tell he was getting tired and he just couldn’t do it and then he fell. He tumbled and did his cat tail twitch to flip his body over and landed squarely in my sweatshirt before bounding, instantly out of it and running into the briers.

Lisa and the girls had been waiting with baited breath on the other side of the briers and, as soon as the cat, hid Lisa called to him and amazingly he came right to her. The poor cat was emaciated and scared but was still willing to trust us so Lisa wrapped him up in her sweatshirt to keep him warm and we carried him back to our car. On the way I called my dad who lives nearby and asked him if he’d like a cat. He agreed to take him! The girls wanted to name the cat Poe if it was a boy or Poetry if it was a girl. We agreed with one caveat; it’s full name had to be Poe-a-Tree-fiddy. The “fiddy” part was because we found the cat while also finding our fiftieth geocache. Plus, if you ever watch south park there is a hilarious episode concerning the value tree-fiddy.

Last night, as I sat under a tree in my neighbors yard with my coat extended between my arms to catch a small pregnant cat that was about 15′ up I couldn’t help but think about the amazing bravery and strength that Poe-a-tree-fiddy showed that day and how cowardly this new cat was being. My arms were getting tired and this cat wouldn’t budge. Oh, she’d turn around and stick one foot out and then turn around again and tease me as if she were going to jump the 6 feet or so down to my coat which was extended all the way above my head but she wouldn’t commit; so, eventually, I gave up. Of course, as soon as I started to walk away the cat ran down the side of the tree and into the yard. She was probably staying in the tree in order to avoid me.

Well, I’ve been here now and let me tell you – this trip has sucked hard.

Initially I was going to be heading down here by myself but we expanded the entourage to include Ryan (another developer at SBCS) and our boss Mark. Last week Ryan and I embarked on a major bug squashing mission. We worked hard and late on Thursday and Friday to make sure everything was “rock solid” and we honestly thought it was. We touched every new and old feature of the sections of the application we were working on.

On Saturday Ryan worked on a user manual and found a couple small changes that needed to be made; so late Saturday night I went into the office and worked for a couple hours to address those things and a couple other small bits I discovered. By Sunday morning the site really was working great and everything felt wonderful.

Monday morning I woke up early, finalized my packing, and waited for Ryan to arrive from Kentucky before we headed off to the Charleston airport. Ryan had never flown before this trip and was really nervous about the prospect. You have to really know Ryan to understand how much the idea of flying affected him. He has a variety of anxieties and flying was a truly daunting prospect for him. His wife brought him to my house at 8am and we loaded up my car for the trip to Charleston. It was obvious that his wife was nervous for him because he was so stressed about flying.

We headed out immediately thinking we would hit a bunch of morning rush hour traffic on the way to Charleston but the highway was almost empty so we made the trip in about an hour which meant we had a couple hours before our flight would leave. The Charleston airport is pretty small and you don’t have to arrive that early even in this day and age so I took a detour to the mall so we could kill time without Ryan having to watch planes take off and land. We spent about 40 minutes there walking around before heading to the airport to meet up with Mark.

As we walked into the airport I noticed a news crew was working at one end of the terminal and I mentioned it to Ryan but he thought I was just screwing with him. I wasn’t. The news crew was the first omen of what was to come with this trip.

We checked in nice and quickly using the kiosk, had our bags checked, and started to walk toward security. Ryan saw the news crew and we ignored it while he went to use the restroom. While he was gone the news lady came over to Mark and I and asked us if we were grounded. We didn’t know what she was talking about and said, “No, we’re heading out to Atlanta.” She said, “OH, Atlanta, were you pushed back to the next flight?” We said, “No.” And she said, “You weren’t on the earlier flight?” We looked confused and she asked again, “You don’t know what happened?”

As that question ended Ryan reappeared. I told her we didn’t really need to know. She decided to tell us anyway. It turns out the flight before us had to abort its’ takeoff due to having 2 of it’s tires pop during the speedup to takeoff. The plane was broken down in the middle of the runway.

We went through security and headed to our gate. Once there we could see the fire trucks, ambulances, and emergency vehicles all over the runway alongside the broken down plane. Fortunately, I had convinced Ryan to take his first half of a Xanex while we were at the mall.

Eventually our flight was cancelled. However, we really needed to reach New Orleans that day so we could be at the Corps office in time for the first day of training since they had arranged their schedule to accommodate us. I jumped on my cell phone to try and book a different flight and, at the same time, Mark did the same. I had a really helpful lady on the phone but she put me on hold and, eventually, my hold status changed to a disconnected status and I wasn’t sure if my flight had been changed.

While we were on the phone we were also in line for the Delta counter and, eventually, we made it to the front of the line where the ticket agent worked with us to get us to Atlanta that day but we couldn’t get to New Orleans until the next morning. C’est la vie. Because of the delay in getting to New Orleans we also had her shift our return flight to Friday and Mark called our New Orleans hotel to extend our reservations through Thursday night.

Eventually, we found ourselves on an airplane. Ryan and I were sitting together with me in the window seat and Ryan in the aisle. Ryan had said he didn’t want to look out the window but, as soon as the flight started, he was gazing out the window in wonder and amazement. The flight to Atlanta is about an hour long and the entire flight he was leaning over looking out the window with child-like wonder at the miracle of flight. It was pretty awesome to behold. When we finally landed in Atlanta he was equally amazed to experience the amazing time savings of flight over driving. He swore right then that he would never drive that far again (if he could afford it).

At this point we were in Atlanta but we had nowhere to stay and no plans for dinner. However, the Charleston ticket agent told us to talk to a Delta rep in Atlanta to get a hookup for a room and a dinner voucher. She also said she would put some information on our confirmation to help the Atlanta agent.

The Atlanta agent wasn’t nearly as helpful as we had hoped. She was fairly difficult to communicate with due to her extremely thick accent and she wasn’t particularly interested in making sure we were happy. Eventually she gave us a voucher for the airport Ramada. However, the voucher just entitled us to the airlines negotiated price of $50 a night. She provided nothing for dinner however she did give us an incredibly worthless “overnight” bag which was filled with complete trash.

We laughed it off and headed out to the Ramada shuttle only to be told by the shuttle driver that, even though the bus said “Ramada” on it she wasn’t really a Ramada shuttle and that we’d have to wait. So we waited, and waited, and waited, in the cold for a shuttle. In the meantime a guy with the super-8 offered to let us come to his motel and that they would honor the voucher price. We weren’t really interested in his offer. Instead I got on my phone and tried out priceline to see if we could get a 4-star hotel near the airport for $60/night. We did and we booked rooms at the Westin (home of the Heavenly Bed)!

During checkin at the Westin the clerk gave me three vouchers for 50% off our dinner at their restaurant after I told her about our crazy day. At this point it was about 8 or 9pm. After checkin we went straight to our rooms, dropped our bags, and then headed back down for dinner. After we ate a pretty good meal we headed back upstairs to sleep. However, our morning flight was really early and we had to be awake by 5am so I slept horribly for fear that I’d oversleep.

Back at the airport we checked in, got our seats assigned, and then headed to security. Mark was on the “stand-by” list because he wasn’t scheduled to fly until a couple hours later. In the line for security we picked, by far, the slowest lane but, eventually, we made it to the xray section. However, once we got there the bins were all used and Ryan had to scramble through other lines to get bins so he could pass through. Considering this was his second effort ever at flying he was obviously a little flustered by the experience and in dealing with people who were rushing for other bins so they could get ahead of him in line.

Eventually he got some bins and passed through the x-ray machine. However, on the other side he had a moment of panic because he couldn’t find his boarding pass. At this point I told him to take his half of a Xanex again and we hopped on the train to our terminal. We waited for an hour and half until we were finally able to board but Mark wasn’t called for standby.

The plan at this point was to fly and then wait a the New Orleans airport for Mark to arrive so we could get our rental car. Ryan and I boarded the plane and found our seats – row 20; the last possible row on the plane, right beside the lavatory. To make matters worse we had no window on our side of the plane, we had no over-head storage as our space was being used for emergency equipment. However, the two seats on the other side of the aisle were empty after it appeared everyone was on so we switched. Sadly, both of those passengers eventually boarded. The first was happy to take my window-less window seat on the other side but the other wanted his window seat so I took one aisle and Ryan took the aisle seat nearer the window.

As we got settled in we were happy to see Mark had gotten a seat on our flight so we wouldn’t have to wait around in New Orleans.

The guy who took my window-less window seat had two small carry-ons so one had to go under the seat in front of me and I ended up with no leg room. Fortunately the flight was only 1hr 45 minutes so it wasn’t too bad. However, every time I stretched my legs into the aisle someone got up to use the lavatory.

Eventually we were in New Orleans, we had our rental car, and we were at our hotel; the Residence Inn Convention Center in downtown (warehouse district) New Orleans. Our suite had two bedrooms, two baths, and a sofa bed for me to sleep on. Oddly the trip started with just me going to New Orleans and here I was sleeping on a sofa bed.

After we checked in we wandered around until we found ourselves at Cafe Du Monde so we could try some Beignets which had been highly recommended. To be honest, I wasn’t that thrilled with them. They were basically just small crispy doughnuts that seemed a little overcooked. However, the hot-cocoa was pretty good!

After leaving Cafe Du Monde we headed back toward the hotel and then Mark and I stopped off at a place called Denie’s for po-boys. They were HUGE and pretty tasty. After lunch we headed back to the hotel to rest up a bit and think about what we’d do later that day.

It didn’t take us long to figure out what we’d like to do because that night the New Orleans Saints were going to be having their Superbowl Championship parade. Our hotel was about 1 block from the parade route so after a brief rest we headed back out to the streets to watch the Saints fans enjoy their moment. We reached the parade route at about 3pm and we hung out for a while before the parade started. The parade itself was only about 12 floats but there were a ton of high school bands and, becuase the fans were so happy, the parade often stopped to let the players celebrate on the street with the fans. Thus, we didn’t see the final float carrying the coach and the Vince Lombardi trophy until around 8pm. I’m not much of a parade person but it was great seeing so many people so happy all at one time.

If there is one thing that New Orleans knows how to do it is to host a parade. They host tons of them every year for Mardi Gras and yet this parade, the Super Bowl parade, exceeded them all in sheer crowd size. According to the news the next morning this parade brought more people into town than New Orleans had ever had downtown at one time. Think about that. They get hundreds of thousands of people in town for Mardi Gras and the associated parades and this 12 float parade superceded all that had gone before and it sounds like it was by quite a margin.

Before we went to New Orleans I was skeptical of the relationship between the city and the team. I felt like the NFL and ESPN had to be overplaying it. I assumed that the NFL was milking the tragedy of Katrina to garner sympathetic viewers and to create drama where none existed. I was wrong. New Orleans really does love their Saints. The joy in the faces of all those fans and the excitement of the entire crowd was overwhelming. It was amazing and, while it may sound trite to say so, you had to be there; the mood was magical.

The next day we had our first day of training at the Corps. Unsurprisingly, a variety of the features that I had made sure worked solidly the prior week didn’t work. They didn’t work at all. Crazy, strange, and unusual errors just popped up all over the place. Fortunately I was able to talk to Jason back home and have him fix a couple critical problems and we worked around the others to finish the first day – though by the end of the day at the office I was starving because I worked with Jason through lunch to get some critical issues resolved.

That night we decided to go out and have a good dinner so we called up Dickie Brennan’s Steak House which is close to Burboun St and made reservations. We walked the mile or so from our hotel to the restaurant and were seated immediately upon entering. The interior of the restauant was very masculine with low lighting and dark wood paneling. We were seated at a booth-like table on the lower level. If you watch the homepage for a bit the images will change and you’ll get a good feel for the ambiance of the dining area.

I had the 12 oz Ribeye and a cup of soup for dinner and both were very good. I believe the Ribeye was quite a bit larger than 12 ozs and it was perfectly cooked. It was probably one of the better Ribeyes I’ve had. The soup was also very good. Mark also got a cup of soup and my favorite part was how it was served. Both cups were brought out in small crocks within a bowl. Two separate waiters approached our table and, in sycnhronization, they placed the bowls down, lifted the crocks, and poured the soup. It had a very classy feel to it.

After dinner I we had some dessert. Ryan and I each had the chocolate cake and Mark had the pecan pie. I had been told to try their coconut cake but ignored the advice when I read the chocolate cake description. I should have listened. The chocolate cake was ok but it was definitely the low point of the meal and the photo of the coconut cake looked great. It was nice to finish the day off on a high note (dinner) after all the difficulties in the training room.

By, as Lee Corso would say, “Not So Fast!” Later that night I received a phone call and an email from Delta reminding us about our flight the next morning. The flight that we had asked to get off of so we could fly on Friday instead of Thursday due to our late arrival in New Orleans. So, Delta screwed up and Ryan and I were still on the Thursday flight. Ryan got on the phone and about 2 hours later the problem was finally fixed and we were back on the Friday flight. Almost as soon as Ryan hung up the phone the Hotel called us and let us know that our reservation ended the next morning and that we had to get out. It turned out that the hotel didn’t really extend our reservation either so Mark had to get online and book us a hotel via priceline and we ended up with rooms at the Radisson near the airport.

The next morning we woke up and headed to the Corps for the second day of training which, of course, went no better than the first day. All sorts of shit broke and we once again had to call Jason to have him address a few problems while we worked around the rest of them. It was really annoying and embarrassing to have everything breaking in front of all the potential end users. Amazingly, the whole training was not a bust. In the afternoon as I demo’d a new and fancy way to edit data in the application the lady in charge of the entire department, Susan, happened to step in. She watched the demo (which went off without a hitch) and saw how the users responded (very positively). It was the last part of the training so, afterwards, Susan came over and had some very nice things to say. It was refreshing to have at least that part of the two day training go so well.

One of our customers who was there for the training, but who is also from Huntington, really wanted us to go to the Red Fish Grill for dinner so she could indulge in the Double Chocolate Bread Pudding so I tried to make reservations but the entire restaurant was closed for a private party that night. Honestly, it kid of fit in with the rest of our plans that week so I wasn’t surprised though I did have the difficult task of breaking the bad news to the customer.

Fortunately she took it well so after training we headed downtown to the Harrah’s casino to eat dinner at their buffet (not nearly as good as our dinner the prior night at a local steakhouse) but the customer enjoyed it. After the Buffet we walked around and Mark and Ryan tried their hand at gambling. Ryan likes to play Roulette and Mark likes Black Jack. Right off the bat I had a bad feeling about the place so I decided not to play. It didn’t help that the cheapest tables were $15 which is outside my budget. Ryan finally found an automatic roulette table that had a $3 minimum so he sat down to play while Mark watched. Ryan watched the wheel for a while and saw a pretty good random pattern of reds and blacks so he decided to bet. He really likes to bet on red so that’s what he did and, of course, it came up black. Not once, or even twice or three times – but five or six times in a row. His money was dwindling fast so he bet what was left on Red and, amazingly, he hit and managed to come out only $17 down. While Ryan was checking out Mark found a blackjack table he felt good about, sat down with $60 (enough for four hands if all went poorly). It all went poorly so he got up four hands later with nothing left. We fled the casino and headed to our new hotel, the Radisson.

As we waited to check-in a large man with a baseball bat walked into the lobby with a disheveled looking older man. The baseball bat guy told the desk clerk to get someone now because it was an emergency. The dishelved guy just looked forlorn. It turns out the disheveled guy was a homeless man who had snuck into the hotel and was trying to sleep in one of the meeting rooms (either room 215 or 217). The manager showed the homeless guy the door and the baseball bat wielding man disappeared.

A few moments later two large men were told they couldn’t stay in the hotel as long as they wanted to because the hotel was completely sold out over the next few nights. Luckily we were still able to check in, making sure that we weren’t getting room 215 or 217, and we headed upstairs to work on some documentation from our last two days with the customers. As we finished up the document we saw the weather man say that with the weather coming over the next couple of days and that we should expect more flight cancellations than at any time since 9/11. Laughing, we logged on the Delta website to check our flight and sure enough ours was cancelled and we were rebooked on a Saturday flight that would pass through Detroit. Of course, at this point we didn’t have a hotel room for Friday night and we knew our current rooms wouldn’t be available since the hotel was totally full.

Mark spent the next couple hours trying to find a place we could stay that was within some sort of budgetary limits but nothing seemed to be available. Eventually he found a room back at the Residence Inn we had spent the prior two nights at about 3x the price we had paid previously (after taxes and fees). I slept fairly well in the warmth of my own room and under a thick comforter and then we packed up and headed back downtown. The weather was gloomy and wet so we just kind of hung out around the hotel until we haded to head out for our reservations at the Red Fish Grill (which was open and hopefully was a sign of good things to come). I had been told by everyone who had eaten there that the Double Chocolate Bread Pudding was amazing so I made sure I didnd’t stuff myself with dinner so I could try this delectable delight. I wasn’t impressed. Sure, it was OK but I doubt any dessert could live up to the hype that bread pudding had received over the past four years. Sadly, I also didn’t think that much of their jumbalaya either so, for me, the dinner was a bit of a bust. The only good thing about it was we were on Burboun St on the Friday night before Mardi Gras. The bad part – it was cold.

Amazingly, the chilly temps didn’t deter some of the revelers on the street from doing what they had to do to get some beads and boa’s thrown their way. I didn’t get to see the same kind of debauchery I had imagined but it was the most exposed breasts I’ve seen in one night since I left the Army so it wasn’t a total bust. While the three of us walked around and laughed at the craziness there were others there with a far more serious mission – to save our souls. Burboun Street was loaded with people carrying signs telling us we were going to hell but that we could be saved. There were people hadning out leaflets and tracts; there were big crowds of young adults just blocking the road, there were men yelling and reciting biblical verses. There were nearly as zealots there as their were partiers. It was a surprising mix.

If you’ve ever been to Las Vegas you are undoubtedly familiar with the many men who stand along the sidewalk flipping little cards and trying to get people to take them. They flick-flick-flick the card with one hand against the other to catch your eye and then try to hand you the card. On the card you’ll find little explicit advertisements for escorts and, I assume, prostitutes. It’s funny but I imagine it must also be effective because they’ve been out there handing out those cards for as long as I can remember. Well, on Burboun St. there was a guy doing the same exact think. He was flick-flick-flicking his card and then handing it out. Except, unstead of pimping an escort he was pimping his Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. It was laughable so I walked up to him and asked if he had ever been to Vegas. He said he had been, 2 or 3 times on the same kind of mission. I asked him if he had ever seen the guys with the escort cards and he answered in the affirmative. I pointed out the irony that they both were doing the exact same thing to get my attention and then wished him luck. So far, for me, the Vegas card flickers and the Burboun St. card flickers have the same rate of success : 0.

One thing about Burboun St that I’ve long been curious about is, “How much can people expose themselves there?” Is it limited to the chest or can people show off all their goods and, further, is it limited to just the women? Well, while waiting for a small crowed of young women expose their breasts I happened to look to the right where a man was attempting to expose himself, but not his breasts. Before he could extract anything a police officer took him down and removed him from the street. So, let that be a warning to you guys: keep your privates private. Oh, and ladies, keep doing that thing you do; like the girl in the white striped shirt is about to do in this photo (camo jacket girl did too).

Eventually we extracted ourselves from the mass of drunkards and preachers wearing an abundance of beads and we began the mile long trek back to our hotel. However, as soon as we got back to Canal St. the Morpheus parade was finishing up so we hung out to watch it pass by. While standing there the Morpheus Krewe was throwing out even more beads (bag-fulls) and some cool doubloons. Another parade, the Muses – an all woman Krewe, was going to start up after the Morpheus parade but by then it was getting to late so we headed back to the Hotel to get some sleep before our flight the next morning. Ryan and I were able to check in electronically via the ‘net but Mark’s ticket wouldn’t let him so we knew we’d have to be at the airport at least 2 hours early.

The next morning we arrived at the airport without any difficulties but, when we went in, we saw one HUGE line at the delta counter. Mark tried to bypass the line by using the computer terminals but, just like the night before, his ticket wouldn’t let him. Ryan and I were in a short line for baggage check but the line for checking in was so long Mark would have to be in it for at least 2 hours. There was no way he was going to make the flight so I told him to ignroe the line and just walk up to the counter at the other end. For once during the week fortune shined down upon him and the lady at the counter helped him and he was checked in within 3 minutes and we were on our way to security and then our gate.

Initially we were supposed to fly back through Atlanta but after our Friday flight had been cancelled Delta changed our route to send us through Detroit so we were all joking about how we’d be spending our Saturday night in Windsor, Ontario trying to win back some of their gambling losses from Thursday night. The flights to Atlanta were all being cancelled again but ours took off without a hitch and we were in the Exit row so we had plenty of leg room. By this time Ryan was loving flying but still marvelling at how amazingly fast you actually got from point A to point B. I have to admit it really is an amazing thing that I’ve just become numb to because I’ve flown so much. We eventually arrived in Detroit and the weather was cold but clear and, amazingly, our flight to Charleston wasn’t cancelled so we headed down to our gate to wait.

Of course, nothing could go perfectly smootly and, at our planes scheduled take off time we were still sitting in the terminal waiting for the boarding call. However, instead of a boarding call we were informed that we were being moved to a different gate so we all had to grab our bags and hussle to another part of the terminal to get to our plane. We made it there with plenty of time to spare but at this point we were a little skeptical that we’d actuall be taking off. However, we boarded without a hitch and we were airborne within half an hour. The flight from Detroit took about 1.5 hours and then we were safely down in Charleston.

Ryan and I loaded up my car and drove the hour back to my house where his wife and children were waiting for him. Once they left I gave Lisa and the girls a bunch of beads and then we headed out for dinner at a local Mexican joint. It was good to be done with the trip.

I’d actually like to go back to New Orleans at some point when the weather is a little nicer. I think there would be some cool places to go visit and there were some beautiful neighborhoods I’d like to walk around and see. Plus, it would be nice to go without all the stress of travel plans being spoiled and software demonstrations going bad!

This year, for Christmas, I received some pretty cool gifts. For, example, I received a t-shirt and hat that I have long been hoping for. I also received a book on Mt. Bike maintenance which I obviously need. I also received a really cool 10 pack of beer from a little microbrew in Cooperstown NY. The 10 pack has five different flavors of beer and, so far, the two I’ve tasted have been very good. Just with that collection of gifts I think anyone would agree I had a pretty damn good Christmas. Amazingly I got even more stuff that I am not even going to list here.

However, Christmas in my family stretches on a bit. I really celebrate about five times. The first is with my immediate family – my daughters and wife Lisa. From Lisa I received a partially prepaid trip to Niagara Falls. For the past few years we’ve given each other a trip of some sort that just involved the two of us. This year all four of us will be going and a long weekend right on the falls in a cool sounding B&B. It should be great.

The second Christmas is with Lisa’s parents and that’s where I got the book, hat, and shirt. The third is on the phone with my older brother Ted. The fourth is on the phone with my Mom and it was from her that I received the beer, a mountain biking magazine and a bunch of other nice things. The fifth is with my Dad and Patty.

By the time the fifth celebration came around I had gifts that covered the present and the future. However, in a rare Christmas moment right out of Dickens I was visited by the past on Christmas number five. My Dad and Patty had purchased a scanner and scanned in every photo that they owned. This covered photos from before I was born, up through me turning about six and then picked up again with photos from when after my parents were divorced and my dad remarried Patty through to some photos taken after I had moved out and had joined the Army.

I have often complained that not many photos exist of me as a child and next to none exist of me as a baby. Ted, on the other hand, has often joked that he was found on the side of the road or adopted. It turns out we were both wrong.

After the images had been scanned Patty had a fully bound book made of photos from our early childhood. The book : “Bill and Ted” starring yours truly with Ted in a nice supporting role.

The book is really nice. It’s a hard cover book with a photo of Ted and I standing in a field somewhere in England on the cover. I’m probably 3 in the photo and my head is gigantic. It’s a great picture and the book is one of the most thoughtful gifts I’ve ever received.

Ted received the same book and we opened our gift at the same time while on the phone with each other. It was a lot of fun looking at some of the old pictures and laughing at ourselves.

The gift didn’t stop with the book though. We were also both given a digital copy of every photo that was scanned. The resolution of the scans is pretty remarkable and, when all is said and done, is probably about 1500 photos. I’m not in all of them. Heck, I’m not in even 30% of them – but they are awesome nonetheless.

Now I feel inspired to do the same and to get our scanner out and to start scanning in all the photos I have in photo albums. As I go through and process all the scanned photos (they are scanned up to six at a time so I’m separating each out into its’ own file) I will upload a few to share.

Global warming, for better or worse, is actually happening. We don’t know if we can stop it. We do know there are a variety of contributing factors to the problem such as cows which supposedly generate more greenhouse gases than cars, planes, and all other forms of transport combined. Go read the linked article it’s pretty insane how much bad stuff livestock, and the care of that commodity, generates.

Honestly, I don’t care if you care about global warming. I don’t care if you are being more environmentally conscious or if you reduce your family’s carbon footprint at all. But please stop denying that global warming is happening. There is plenty of disagreement on the why (manmade) -vs- (other) bit it’s still a fact that the global temps are gradually increasing so please just deal with it.

The impetus for this post was a minor twitter conversation I had after someone retweeted a lame “Its cold out, take that global warming” joke. I find it funny that these same people never make an equally lame joke on a warm winter day (or a warm month like this past November, 2009). After I made that observation it was suggested that November wasn’t really that mild compared to normal so I looked and it’s true – on average it wasn’t “that mild” but it was 2.75 degrees warmer than the average of the past 12 years. Here’s a little table showing the avg November temps for Bluefield WV for the past 12 years:

2000 looked awefully nasty but 2001 sure did look nice! My curiosity kept me plugging though so I grabbed a different 12 year window; 1968-1979.

Again, this is not sufficient data to do any real trending on but I thought it was interesting that the average temp was 4 degrees cooler in this sample and that the temp only got over the 98-09 average one time during this 12 year period. All data was extracted from weather underground

My efforts to get involved and help bring about change are also the source of one of my failures this year – my effort to join the Cabell County Board of Education. I am glad I tried and I think my primary effort was well executed I think I could have handled the pettiness of the process much better. I should not have lost my temper with Ted Barr (RIP) who was, at the time, the board president. Regardless of what I thought of his tactics I should have kept my cool and expressed my opinions in a more constructive way. I’m not sure how I could have done that but I believe I could have done better.

Another big victory for us was getting a better handle on our finances. While we are no-means perfect at saving money we have done much much better. This started a couple years ago really when we decided to take half of any pay raises or sudden windfalls we got and to put those directly into a savings account that is difficult to tap into. Sadly, we’ve tapped a few times anyway but at least, at this point, we have something in savings. A nice plus to saving half of these bonuses is that you still get to enjoy the increase a little bit while at the same time you are saving money without feeling any pinch. This is a tactic I want to teach the kids in the upcoming year and, since they have no expenses, I’d like them to start saving half of all income they receive – or maybe I’ll get them to save 40% and have them find a charity for 10% that they can donate to each year.

All of our financial preparations couldn’t have come at a better time because as 2009 comes to a close and we approach a new decade our family is deep in a period of uncertainty; specifically concerning Lisa’s career. Her company was purchased earlier this year and after the merger happened no personnel decisions were immediately announced. Instead we were told we had to wait until January 8 to find out her fate. Thus we are looking at the new year as a time of change more than we normally might. If Lisa does get laid off she has decided that she would like to try and be a stay at home mom. This will cause us to seriously escalate our efforts at living life more frugally as her income will be sorely missed if we continue to live as we do. However, we think it will be possible based on what little information we have at the moment.

In November I hit my 10 year mark with Strictly Business. It’s pretty amazing to me that I’ve lived anywhere this long let alone worked for the same company for such a big chunk of it. I don’t technically hit my 10 years of full time employment until May or June but it’s close enough for me. It is nice having a sense of job security right now more than ever!

So that is last year – what’s up for next year? First off I’m thinking of running for the Board of Education in a real election. Lisa’s job situation will have a major impact on that decision so I’m still holding out on throwing my hat in the ring. There are, I believe, 3 seats that will be up for election so I feel like my odds might be pretty good. I am also hoping to help the Tree team for Tomorrow get the tree planting progressing. We raised a bunch of money but so far we haven’t actually planted any of the seedlings yet. I am also considering getting involved, somehow, in an after school computer program at Shannon and Emily’s school. It is just an idea I have floating in my head so I don’t know if that will happen or not but it’s something I’m tossing around.

I would very much like to get more involved in the girls lives than I am currently. I feel like I am just a weekend dad and that bothers me. I’m not sure how or when I will be able to do that but it is, beyond making sure I stay employed, my biggest priority for the upcoming year. I’d also like to get my aches and pains healed up so I can start riding my bike and maybe playing frisbee again. I know, there is only so much time in a day so I’ll probably not get all of this done to my satisfaction but I want to make an effort of it.

Finally, I want to finish the few home repair/improvement projects we have started in the past. These include, but are not limited to:

• Bathroom Drywall Repair
• Back Patio Repaving
• Secret Door Trimming
• Kitchen Floor Trimming
• Upper Patio Trim
• Bottom Deck Handrail Replacement

I hope to get a few of those done in the first couple months of the year. Hopefully I’ll have reported the good news that I finished them here on my blog by April!

Sure, I appreciate everyone who volunteers and I think it’s nice that people who didn’t are thinking about them for a day or even a week; but, as a veteran the holiday always feels out of place. I’m not really the type of person who thinks having served in the military is something I should be thanked for. I joined the Army reserves while I was in High School (much to the chagrin of my retired Air Force dad) and then I entered the army as an Active soldier about one year later much to the disappointment of my older active Army brother and over the protests of my mother.

I initially joined the Army Reserves becuase I wanted to serve. I didn’t think I would need the GI Bill as I was supposed to be getting a scholarship from the state of NY and I thought it would be a great way to help the state and country in times of need. No big deal really – we weren’t at war. While I was in Basic training Kuwait was invaded and my older brother was deployed to Saudi Arabia as part of the 101st. He was there for the whole ball of wax that was the first Gulf War involving Iraq. I was deployed later; when the fighting was basically done to help keep the peace and other than a couple false alarms I had a pretty peaceful time there.

I left Active duty in Oct 1995. I was never shot at nor did I have to shoot anyone. The same held for all of my friends. It was a cake walk for me compared to what my brother, our father (Vietnam), and his uncles (WW2 or Korea I think) had gone through. The only time I was facing an armed enemy was when I found myself in the wrong night clubs at the wrong time in El Paso or Juarez. I started out in the army as a Combat Engineer (blowing things up on the ground) and ended as a Patriot Missile System operator (blowing things up in the sky). In general I just had fun, saw a bit more of the world, made some great friends, and accrued a great collection of stories.

Most of those friends stayed in the Army and I lost contact with them. I actually think about them and the times we had fairly often. More than likely they are senior enlisted soldier’s leading platoons and companies that have served in Afghanistan and Iraq. Hopefully they are all still alive. I have no way of knowing. I don’t really think of ex-soldiers like me when I think of “Veterans” because we had it easy and we didn’t really do anything to warrant everyone’s thanks. Sure, we were in a position where – if needed – we would have – but merely lining up for the job isn’t the same thing as actually doing it.

Today I think about all the guys who actually had to go to war. I appreciate their sacrifice and I hope those who are still out there keep their heads down and their spirits up until they can come home and join me in the safe life as a civilian. Thanks to you guys for stepping up when it was needed and not backing down – stay safe.