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| <|> Stupid T-Blog <|> |
| 06.22.05 (8:23 am) [edit] |
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Well, I just made a really, really long post, and somehow the damn BETA posting engine erased it when I tried to add an emoticon. I'll try again later.
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| <|> I was here first, bitches! <|> |
| 04.29.05 (8:38 pm) [edit] |
In light of tonight's premier of the movie The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, I would like to clarify that the name of my blog existed two years before the debut of the current theatrical production.
I rightfully stole the title from the original book of the same name.
That will be all for now. You are dismissed.
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| <|> Life, the Universe, and...Insurance? <|> |
| 04.28.05 (3:52 pm) [edit] |
Well, things are good now. Life is settling down. I'm settled into my new home in my new city, have my new job, new car...
I now work for a big disability and life insurance company, and I've realized that there is no industry more boring than that. The very people that work in insurance seem to lose all of their interesting qualities as soon as they walk through the door. They become bland wafers of corporate labor, devoid of any flavor or spark of interest.
The very nature of the industry's product fosters an environment of mind-numbing sameness and colorless continuity. The customers who are insured are not big fans of change when it comes to their coverage, so there is very little change in the industry as a result. It's funny to me after three months with the company just what sort of things make insurance types excited. Most people get a rush over normal things, such as bungee jumping, skydiving, repelling, driving fast, performing in sports, etc. But the insurance employee lacks the daily emotional input to support that kind of excitement. Such things would probably result in cardiac arrest. The things that make these guys moisten their panties are unusual policy provisions, slight alterations in "workflow", customers with unusual medical conditions...I'm guessing that life in front of a computer, contemplating things such as risk, premiums, and height/weight charts, somehow constrains the mind into a realm where everything is a quantifiable risk. If it's too risky, it's not worth doing.
I guess I'll never make in the insurance industry. I'm just what they hate! I drive too fast, smoke too many cigars, drink too much bourbon, and leave my office every day feeling that I've actually just woken up after 8.5 hours of a light doze. I'm sure that the industry's inherent stability will give these guys a job long after I'm too old to report to work, but I'm not looking for that sort of long-term occupational support. I'd rather do what fancies me at the moment, work where I get genuine fulfillment from my job, live life the way that brings me true happiness, and let the chips fall where they may. Call me an epicurean if you will, but I know that I'm only on this planet for a limited amount of time. Who knows? Maybe when the cards are down and I'm all in, I'll end up with bullets in the pocket.
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| Road Trip |
| 12.18.04 (8:03 pm) [edit] |
I drove this weekend to see a friend graduate from Tennessee Tech University. I learned a few things along the way.
Life Lesson #1: When packing for a road trip, pack everything you can in the suitcase, and then only the overflow items into the soft bag. The soft bag will change size and shape. The suitcase won't. We only have 5 cubic feet of luggage space to work with here, people.
Life Lesson #2: A stock Miata with factory tires has a ride that is...er...lively enough that it would keep awake anyone that tried to sleep in the passenger seat.
Life Lesson #3: The seats in a Miata do not recline past a normal seating angle. Sleeping is, upon discovery of this fact, rendered even more impossible for your unfortunate passenger.
Life Lesson #4: I became unfortunately adept at saying, "No, I'm sorry. I really can't take those Christmas presents back home with me. Maybe if you taped them to the hood there would be room..."
Life Lesson #5: The hotel accomodations in Cookeville, TN leave a lot to be desired.
Life Lesson #6: If it ever crosses your mind that perhaps you should take a pair of gloves due to the cold weather, take them. Otherwise the cruel wind of the Cumberland Plateau may grip you and reduce you to a broken shell of a man, crying out for warmth and hot cocoa.
Aside from making those observations, I got the opportunity to stumble into a time warp. I was winding my way down State Route 68 somewhere in the middle of nowhere when nature placed an urgent call. I stumbled across a gas station amidst the rural Tennessee hills that looked as if it were built as part of a movie set. My brain said "Exit here for restroom facilities." My hands responded with a firm tug at the handbrake and a flick of the Nardi leather-wrapped steering wheel. When I got out, I noticed that pumps 2-5 of 6 gas pumps were out of order. Obviously there wasn't enough gas sold here to justify the repair costs. I then walked up five steps onto the front porch, past the porch swing, and into the gas station. [When was the last time you walked up steps to get into a gas station?] It appeared on the inside to be more general store than convenience store. There were three old men seated at a card table right next to the fishing tackle aisle. They were smoking Lucky Strikes, and they looked as if they had not moved from their seats since the Nixon administration. The lady behind the counter was a pleasant woman in her mid-fourties, and her air of comfort with her surroundings indicated she was probably the owner of this rustic establishment. I then noted three Crock-Pots on the counter, which appeared to house today's lunch specials. After a quick vist to the closet-like restroom, I turned to the drink coolers. There I found honest-to-goodness RC Cola. I didn't realize that RC Cola still existed. But there it was, looking relatively fresh, and most definately bottled in a genuine glass bottle.
For a moment I was taken back 30 years, to a time before the internet, satellite radio, and cell phones. To a time when AIDS wasn't a problem, and free love still reigned supreme. The time when my parents got married, roughly. This store proudly displayed tractor spark plugs and balogna next to an ancient radio that apparently played soothing music for the customers at a time when CSN still had a Y after it.
I paid cash. I don't think the lady behind the counter would have known what I meant by debit.
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| Much better now. |
| 12.15.04 (4:31 am) [edit] |
I'm making it out of the slump of depression. Depression is a new feeling for me. I don't recall having been depressed before for more than a few hours at a time. I'm normally such a sunny person, but the stress of change was getting me down.
In other news, I got a new car! I got an '02 Mazda Miata with just 28,000 miles. It was a Mazda Certified Pre-Owned car, and I have it covered with a 10-yr, 100,000 mile bumper to bumper warranty. It's so nice! It's Midnight Blue Mica, and it looks fabulous. That's another one of my problems scratched off the list.
A friend from work was gracious enough to co-sign for me, and I got added on to the insurance of another friend from work, so I got everything really cheap.
I'm moving again in a couple of weeks (hopefully for a while this time), so the stress should kick in a bit, but it won't be everything all at once making it unmanageable.
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| Insomnia |
| 10.25.04 (8:03 pm) [edit] |
I've been suffering from it lately...I've been sleeping about 3-5 hours a night for about two months now. I think all the stress and turmoil is killing me. I'm still in a period of uncertainty and upheaval. My weight has fluctuated greatly. I went from 182 to 165 and back up to about 175, all in this time period. Women trouble, moving, trying to obtain a car and a new job, trying to push a fledging business to success...It's causing me to quickly lose control of my most personal asset: My physical health.
I need to find stability.
I need to find that peace I once had. Peace even in the midst of misery.
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| 17 pounds |
| 10.15.04 (12:25 am) [edit] |
Well, I gained 17 pounds today. It was mostly around my midsection. It wasn't from overeating, though. I was not priveleged to gain weight due to some pleasurable indulgence. 17 pounds is the weight of the belt they strapped around me today as I took my physical agility test for th City Police Dept. It's supposed to simulate the weight of your gun, handcuffs, extra magazines, tazer, asp, radio, and bullet resistant vest. Basically it just weighs too much.
The excercise is simple enough:
Begin by having the belt strapped on. Suddenly feel really awkward since you only weigh 165 pounds. Get in a patrol car, and nervously wait for your radio call. Hear Officer Ross on the radio give you a description of a black male, white shirt, blue jacket, with a gold chain and a weapon. Hear the word "go" and jump out the patrol car, and try your best to sprint around the car and up the beginning of the trail through the woods. Realize that 17 pounds feels like a lot when you're sprinting. Run about 10 yards on slick pine needles up a slope. It has just rained the night before, so everything is wet. Jump through a window that is 48 inches off the ground. See a bunch of paintings of men with numbers beside them. Pick out your suspect from the description you were given, and try to commit his number to memory. Run about 80 yards, then slide under a sawhorse. Run around the corner, and try hard not to fall because the grass is wet. Scale a 6-foot wall. Run another 20 yards. Grab a 150-pound dummy and carry/drag/coerce him 10 feet or so and slam him against another cruiser. Hear the word "Stop!" and thank God that your test is over. Did you pass? You had to cover 150 yards of obstacle course in 64 seconds or less. You're fighting for breath as you say "That fucking dummy weighs more than I do." [Well, the weight belt and the dummy together weigh more than you do.] Hear someone ask you your suspect number. It's #4, you say. Hear your time come over the radio, channel Tac 3, saying "50 seconds". They hand you a slip of paper to fill out for the next stage of testing. It means you passed. You spend the next 15 minutes coughing up phlegm that you didn't even realize was in your system.
Your written test was this past Tuesday, and your next test is a ride-along in two days. You hope you'll be a cop in no time.
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| <|> Credit! <|> |
| 07.28.04 (3:42 pm) [edit] |
Well, I found the perfect Jeep today. It was a 1998 Jeep Cherokee Sport in teal with 4 wheel drive and the inline six engine. The only thing that wasn't perfect is that it was an automatic, but the low mileage (75,000) helps balance it out in my mental equation.
Since last time I posted about this, I have managed to obtain a low-limit CapitalOne card, but apparently I still DO NOT have a Beacon score! Amazing! The lenders I contacted said CapitalOne appears on my report, but that's the only item, and I have no score at all. I can't get a loan for a Jeep with a selling price that is $1600 below Blue Book! I have $1000 down, and only need about $6000 financed. I have a VERY low expense-to-income ratio, so you'd think I'd be fine. But no, that damn Beacon still refuses to shine brightly.
Someone please leave a comment and say how they managed to obtain their first car loan. Remember, I have nobody to co-sign, and I need a car!
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| <|> Strange <|> |
| 07.03.04 (5:58 pm) [edit] |
Well, I've been reading on Google news (my favorite news compiler/syndicate lately) about all the security holes of Internet Explorer. I've done a strange thing (strange for me, anyhow): I have changed my default browser to Mozilla Firefox. I've always been a huge fan of IE, but I think this latest bout of worms that has exploited some serious security holes in the program has given me the nudge to rethink my affiliations.
I downloaded it at first to help me proof changes I was making to TroubletownRecords.com, but I ended up actually making it my default web browser. Everything shows up pretty well, with two exceptions (so far): the little pop-up ad windows on Yahoo! Geocities pages are not closeable in Mozilla, and my tBlog looks kind of odd. The lines under the links sort of float somewhere above where they should be, which is a really weird glitch. Aside from that, I like the Firefox GUI, and I definately support its open-source architecture.
I also switched versions of my AIM hack. I've been on AOL's instant messenger for years as AttorneyKid, but I always hated AOL's version of the program. I even volunteered as a beta tester for AOL Version 7.0 when it was still in its earliest stages, and the resulting computer disaster made me swear off AOL software for good. I tried Trillian and a couple of other AIM programs, and up until a couple of days ago I have been using AIM Version 4.8 with a very solid hack called MyIM. I decided to switch to Aimutation, and use the features of the current AIM 5.x version. It's a little glitchy, but I think Aimutation Version 2.0 will prove pretty solid when it comes out.
Oh, well. Enough computer geek rambling. I think my next entry will be about the decline of our national folklore, so keep an eye out for that one.
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| <|> I'm coming back! <|> |
| 05.19.04 (12:19 am) [edit] |
I have to apologize to anyone who cared to read this blog. I took a "slight" sabbatical. During most of the month of March, I just felt that nothing was quite interesting enough to post about. I was just continually working on more of the same projects, and I was too tired to process any abstract thought. April was just too busy...Now I'm picking up again as the summer months draw nigh.
You should see regular entries from me again, beginning now. My apologies to those of you I lost contact with during my absence...
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| <|> Kid Rock <|> |
| 02.13.04 (6:27 pm) [edit] |
Around the time I began college I became a big fan of Kid Rock. My buddies and I used to cruise around with the top down and pretend we were pimps...And naturally Kid Rock is the perfect soundtrack for doing that.
Well, last night Kid Rock came to town, and I naturally [i]had[/i] to go see him. It turned out to be a fabulous show! There were pole-dancers in cages on stage, spark generators, fireworks of all kinds, flame cannons, confetti machines...The stage show was incredible.
Kid Rock was also in good form. He was completely sober, not drunk or stoned, and seemed to be concentrating very hard on the show. He seemed to be having a good time, but you could see the concentration in his eyes. This man really works hard when he peforms. All in all, it was a great concert!
Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt.
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| <|> DVD Burning <|> |
| 02.10.04 (4:49 pm) [edit] |
Well, I bought a nifty new DVD burner over the weekend, and it arrived on my doorstep yesterday morning. It's a great drive. It was ranked as the top pick from Tech TV's [i]The Screen Savers[/i]. It's an LG Super Multi GSA-4040B, and it supports all common DVD formats. DVD-R, -RW, +R, +RW, DVD-RAM...You name it, it supports it.
So, I'm here with my computer, happily ripping Fight Club. Life is good!
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| Beauty Pageant |
| 02.08.04 (10:20 am) [edit] |
People often ask me how I end up doing the things I do. Frankly, I'm not quite sure. My latest venture: I'm the Executive Producer of a beauty pageant.
Yes, yes, I know this sounds like a typical 21 year old's fabrication to allow countless 17-24 year old women parade around in bikinis, but nay, good reader. I was legitimately asked to do this.
Perhaps I should explain...Through some local political connections, I got somewhat involved with the planning of a multi-county old country fair. I was mostly asked to be involved because of my connections with the alt-country/new folk music set, and my recent work in local government planning. Then the fair director, Liz, had an epiphany. Instead of just crowning a fair princess and having that be the end of it, perhaps this should be a Miss Tennessee pageant Preliminary! In other words, whoever we crown on pageant night will become a candidate for the Miss Tennessee pageant. If she wins there, she competes for Miss America.
Hmmm...Naturally, being a red-blooded American male, this grabbed my attention. I said I would help out. The work load increased, and my role kept changing as others were unable to perform their duties. Eventually, sometime last Friday morning, I became in charge of the pageant.
Last night I attended the Miss Knoxville pageant as a special guest in order to get a handle on how exactly a pageant works. This was their 51st time through it, so they have had a chance to work out some bugs. It was a very nice pageant, full of stunning women and decent entertainment. I got to learn some of what will be expected of me by doing this, including traveling with the winner to the Miss Tennessee competition. I'm going to also get certified as a pageant judge for Tennessee and a few surrounding states. Sounds time consuming, but fun.
Three things stood out in my mind when I entered this unfamiliar world of beauty pageants: 1.) There are a lot of gay men here. 2.) This pageant thing is its own little subculture. 3.) Gosh, these women are gorgeous.
So there you have it...My latest venture. Troubletown has been asked to sponsor the event's entertainment, and I need to see how that will work out. I am but once voice among four. Stay tuned for updates...
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| New header |
| 02.04.04 (9:58 pm) [edit] |
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Let me know what you think. I've got it hosted through that new Photobucket.com thing.
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| Travis Cutshaw |
| 02.04.04 (8:53 pm) [edit] |
You know, I spent an hour or so in the studio tonight listening to some early mixes of Travis's album as he, the producer, and the studio owner laid down more tracks. It's turning out to be quite a masterpiece.
Just when all the money, all the time, all the BS invested in this company started to become another straw weighing on my impending nervous breakdown, I got to hear the fruits of our labors. I remembered that the reason we have this label is to let guys like Travis explore their creative talents without the worries of self-promotion and production (and to make us money, of course). And I must say, it's a very impressive work. The album is enough to reaffirm my faith in what we're doing.
There is no better job than this.
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| Credit? |
| 02.03.04 (4:22 pm) [edit] |
What is this "credit" you speak of?
They say you have to have "credit" to buy a Jeep. Then they say you have to already have credit to get credit. Unless someone co-signs for you. And if you have no family and have always bought everything with cash, sorry! You're just fucked.
How nice. :evil:
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| ***NOT A SUPERBOWL POST*** |
| 02.01.04 (8:34 pm) [edit] |
I thought I might add a random comment about the SuperBowl, but considering how many postings there are about it in the "recent posts" column, I am going to decline.
On another note, I've been half-heartedly spending the day looking for another car. Actually, not a car, but a Jeep. I've never had anything remotely truck-like before (except for a friend's Isuzu P'up Diesel that I used to drive a lot in college), so this is an interesting new field for me. I'm used to looking for a car with precise turn-in, crisp handling, solid breaking, and capable acceleration. Usually I won't buy anything that I wouldn't be able to take autocrossing. But now I just want a solid, somewhat roomy but not gargantuan SUV with some balls. And something fairly reliable. And perhaps not prone to flipping over. :shock:
My solution: an old 4.0L Jeep Cherokee. I'm looking for something '88-up, but it seems really hard to find one in decent shape that is not lifted sky-high and full of off-road goodies. I [i]might[/i] modify my truck once I get it, but I don't want to buy someone else's personal expression. Kind of defeats the purpose, you know?
The search continues...4.0L inline 6, 150k miles or so, not red in color (due to the high cop awareness factor), hopefully manual transmission...and hopefully around $5000. We'll see what I can find in the next month or so.
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| Sing my praises... |
| 01.27.04 (4:43 pm) [edit] |
Have you ever noticed that people really don't sing with an accent?
I was listening to Kylie Minogue's "Can't Get You Out of My Head" yesterday, and I had no idea she was not American until I started doing some web research on the song. The it occurred to me: [i]nobody[/i] (save for some select Rastafarians) that sings in English really has a discernable accent. Case in point: Shakira. She's actually from Lebanon. J.Lo: she's from the Bronx, but you don't hear it in her music. The Spice Girls? British, of course, but you wouldn't know it from hearing their song "Wannabe", or any other I can think of. Def Leppard? British.
Sure, maybe they have a hint of an accent here and there, but not enough to pin down where they're from. Then you hear them speak in person and their origins are obvious. I used to get laughed at in high school because I had an obvious Southern accent when speaking, but none at all when singing in the choir.
Then, as I said, you have some Rastas (such as the guy from Shaggy's "Angel" song or Bob Marley) whose accents are so strong the words to their music are barely discernable.
Strange.
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| Light come back on |
| 01.21.04 (10:51 pm) [edit] |
The light in the Bertone was on again tonight when I got home. Same circumstances, and the car door had not been disturbed today. Who knows what's up with that little wicked creature.
Back to Maytag at 8:00 a.m. Monday morning. Corporate hell, I embrace thee!
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| What I didn't know my blog was about |
| 01.18.04 (8:53 am) [edit] |
Well, according to the tBlog sign-on page, the ads that come with the handy-dandy calendar add-on are driven by the content of your blog for directed marketing to your readers. I just noticed that all the ads on my blog are about running a business from home. I don't think I mentioned Troubletown Records anywhere when I was creating my blog, so somehow a software program had to glean that from my entries. Frightening.
And I didn't even realize that I was writing so much about that! I thought I was just doing a wry, occasionally witty analysis of the human condition. Hmmm. Perhaps after my last entry I will start getting ads about rare mid-engine Italian convertibles in need of restoration. That would be a lot more cool.
*EDITOR'S NOTE* After posting this, my ads changed to include an ad about a website "for those of us who hate our jobs". This is uncanny. Directed marketing works!
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| Light go on, light go off... |
| 01.18.04 (8:44 am) [edit] |
Fiat cars have always been known for having (among other things) quirky electrical systems. I came home last night in my Integra and was about to go in the house when I noticed light being reflected off the rear window of my Bertone (Fiat) X1/9. I thought at first that it was the reflection of the streetlight, but I walked over to the car and discovered that it was in fact the interior light in the passenger-side door panel that was on.
The Bertone has two-stage lights in the doors that can be on bright or dim, depending on the situation. The light was on in dim mode, which usually would only happen with the headlights on. The doors were closed tightly, the interior light switch was off, and the car hasn't been driven in three weeks, so I know it wasn't a matter of having left something on.
I opened the door and the light came on bright, I closed the door and it delayed for the factory-programmed 10 seconds before turning off. I just shook my head and decided it was time for bed. It takes a more intelligent man than me to figure out the electrics on an Italian convertible.
Perhaps the car got lonely and just wanted to turn on a light. Who knows. :)
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| This mortal insanity... |
| 01.13.04 (8:51 pm) [edit] |
Another 80+ hour week at work.....I used to know what it was like to enjoy the fine things in life. I knew why it was that I have a nice home and fun cars and good music and an expensive computer....But then I realized that if you don't have time to enjoy it, it is merely a waste of money. It's like guzzling Johnnie Walker Blue Label.
Why am I doing this? What's the point of working twice the hours as the boss of a restaurant making the same money as I was as a pawn of the corporation? Tell me where the logic comes in! I really don't see it. All I see is the disk in my back that is out, my aching feet, and my bloodshot eyes.
I can't deal with this. I honestly don't see where the benefit comes in with this General Manager job. It's not the money. It's certainly not the quality of work. And it sure as hell is not the flexibility. I hope to God that Maytag will take me back. I'm sorry for leaving the best job in this area, and I think I'm ready to resign myself to an Office Space existence. Goodbye, barbecue restaurant! One month was far too long.
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| why am i so stupid? |
| 12.29.03 (7:02 pm) [edit] |
I really thought that perhaps I could just run this new restaurant and not actually have to be there very often. 29 hours of work and two days later, I'm dead tired, and the store is still needing some work. Labor is over the limit it should be at on the day because of all the cleaning. The employees are pissing me off already because they're lazy bastards (and yet they're the best of the applicants). The deposit also wasn't exactly right tonight.
And we just opened this morning.
What does Casey do in this situation? Smoke my pipe, drink some liquor, and listen to my favorite band, Bigger than Dallas. Thank the supreme being for such fabulously enjoyable vices. Now, please excuse me while I drink myself into a short coma.
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| Quark |
| 12.22.03 (9:18 pm) [edit] |
There's just something maddening about using a computer program that you understand about 15% of. I made an attempt tonight to do a print layout of album covers in Quark to take the printer tomorrow. The idea was simple enough: six up on a turn and flip, 11x17, offset printed on 65 lb, no bleed.
The execution was excruciating. My Quark mentor for the evening was Ryan, Troubletown Records' Art Director. Unfortunately for me, he's a Mac only guy. In other words, everytime he tried to do something on my PC, he accidentally opened up a menu. So, in between his inept PC handling and my bumbling Quark usage, we pretty much just managed to frustrate ourselves. I'm going to bed.
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