Author: Jim (Page 25 of 51)

Father of 4, Engineer, Social Worker, longtime blogger, #linux user. Opining on the internet? What else is it for?

What Has Been Going on Around Here?

May 19, 2008 / Jim

*Crickets chirping*

Been busy, you know, with work – unrewarding, brain-dead, unfun work. I think, and most people have probably noticed for themselves, when one is not fully satisfied with what one is doing, the creative juices don’t flow anywhere. You blame it on being busy, but really, when you’re busy and fulfilled, you seem to have boundless energy for new projects and creative endeavors.

Lately, I’ve been swamped with making websites, programming web-apps, and sys-admin work.

Sigh, but I’m so fed up with making websites… I think I want to take a
sabbatical and run a rickshaw service someplace for a year – get paid a
little bit to run tourists around, get some exercise, and get some
perspective. This computer stuff is really really getting on my nerves. Sometimes I wish the Internet never existed – ssh, don’t tell anyone.

There is some good news, though. This website now runs on a Quad Core 64bit monster machine… well, not really a monster, but better than before. It’s got 8 gigs of RAM, 64 bits, and 4 cores – all in an economical package.

What I really want is dual quad cores on 45nm transistors, with 32 gigs of RAM. That’d be a smokin’ server.

Oh, you know what did make me feel a little bit better a while back? Actually, I hadn’t realized the funk I was in and why, until Barack Obama won the North Carolina Primary and virtually tied in Indiana. I exhaled. Finally. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding all that anxiety. Now, if America doesn’t make another stupid decision in November, I think our long national nightmare can come to a close and we can begin to clean up this mess.

It’s not that I’m looking for a savior. I hope America isn’t looking for someone to be the strong man, lead us to the promised land, and make decisions for our poor widdle overtaxed heads. What we need is to get this monkey off our back, a monkey with the initials George W. Bush… not that I like to name names or anything.

What else? Cooking? Here’s what I’ve been working on recently:

Home grown wild yeast starter

Consists of equal parts flour and water. Let sit out until it smells like beer.
really, that’s it.
Okay, so I had to take a page from Belgian beer brewers and encourage flies and bugs to fall into the mixture. It seems that they carry yeast on their legs to help the fermentation process along. Anyway, after a couple of weeks of dividing and refreshing the starter, it really takes on a good beer-like smell and begins to make decent bread. You have to make bread more frequently than I do for it to get really good, but that’s another story.

Mayonnaise

one clove of garlic
Puerto Rican spices (adobo – a mixture of salt, pepper (black and white), garlic and a bunch of other stuff I’m too lazy to read off the ingredients.
1 cup blended olive oil (extra virgin has too much taste. You want something more innocuous)
1 fresh farm egg
1 tbsp of lemon juice or vinegar
Use an immersion blender to emulsify the product into a mayonnaise consistency.
*Optional: I also blend in two tablespoons of non-fat yogurt. It smooths out the taste and cuts the calories a bit.

Chicago style pizza dough (using said wild yeast)

I totally guesstimate the dough, but here’s the rough procedure.

1 cup of warm water
2 packets of quick acting yeast or 1 cup of wild yeast starter if you’re me.
1 cup of corn meal
1 cup of wheat flour (or stone ground wheat or some other blend that you like)
And enough high gluten bread flour until you get dough. You do know what pizza dough should look like right?
1/4 cup of olive oil
I knead the bread (by hand) until it begins to take on a springy elastic like quality. You can just tell. Fold and press, fold and press, fold and press. You’ll be able to tell in about 10 minutes of kneading when it’s ready.
Next you need to let it rise. If you’ve taken the instant yeast route, you’ll have 40 minutes or so to wait before topping and cooking. If you’ve used wild yeast, be prepared to wait most of the afternoon. I typically start in the morning.
Top with your personal pizza sauce recipe (I’ll share at some other time), some sort of meat (Italian sausage?), mushrooms, onions, peppers, cheese etc. and bake at 350 degrees for 20 minutes or so. The top of the cheese should get a hint of gold browning. If you oiled the pizza pan with olive oil or shortening, your crust will be nice and crisp. I love that!

Pancakes

1 3/4 cups of milk (low fat or no fat)
2 heaping tbsp of non-fat yogurt
2 large eggs
3 tbsp of sugar
1 tsp salt
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 cup butter
1/2 cup corn meal
1 cup wheat flour
and enough cups of regular all purpose flour until the batter is… I don’t know… pancake like… you know what pancake batter is supposed to look like, no?
After you’ve heated up the griddle, add 1/4 cup of vinegar to the mixture. It will foam up increasing the volume a bit so make sure you didn’t use too small of a bowl. Your pancake batter will now be light and fluffy.
*Optional: you can add fruit to this too. I like two grated apples and cinnamon or strawberries and bananas. Top with whipped cream and maple syrup. Yum!

Hey, this turned out to be a pretty long post, huh? I guess my creative juices actually have been flowing.

Popcorn Bowl

April 29, 2008 / Jim

This Christmas, my nephew and his mommy (my sister-in-law) made me the most awesome gift. Check this out, folks:

That is one fine hand-made high quality popcorn receptacle for the containing and the despensing of delicious salty, buttery popped corn. The name carefully lettered on the side is to assure destruction to all who dare touch it.

Only the problem was that I couldn’t get it on the plane, so they had to ship to Puerto Rico. When it finally arrived, we sat down with the kids and said to them that under no circumstances are they to touch the bowl.

This is my pop-corn bowl. No touchie, under pain of death.

Aw, who am I kidding, you should see how the kids react when I make popcorn.

“Daddy,” exclaim the niños, eyes as big as dinner plates, “can we use the ‘Popcorn Bowl’?” It’s like the highlander of popcorn bowls; there can be only one.

Does it makes the popcorn taste better or something. After careful consideration (i.e. eating popcorn) I think it does. It makes popcorn an experience.

Check out those cool little popcorn kernels painted in there. Those are the little fingers of my cute little nephew and his mommy. I am impressed, and it goes to show me that a 4 year old and his mother can outstrip Chinese manufacturing any day.

That is quality “Made in America.”

Epic Happenings in the Primate House

April 5, 2008 / Jim

We have some milestones over here in the O’Malley Gorbea monkeysphere. All the little monkeys are beginning to pull more of their own weight, contributing a fair share to our little settlement here in Puerto Rico.

So here they are, documented by me, your resident big monkey participant observer. All dates are in ISO 8601 format unless otherwise noted. *chuckle*

Jaimito learned to ride his bike yesterday, 2008-04-04, at approximately 5:30 pm on a sunny afternoon. There was a break in the week of rain, the clouds parted, and a clear beautiful cool breezy day ensued. Jaimito took full advantage pedaling all the way from the little hill to the little tree. I’ll get some video of it today and post it.

Javier is potty trained. He’s such a big boy now. Yeay! He decided he no longer wanted to wear a diaper – ever – starting in earnest on 2008-04-01. Yes, that’s right, April Fool’s Day, but this was no joke. Javier was dead serious. He’d flirted with potty training for the better part of a month, but it was the Spider-man underwear that finally got him to go all in, declaring, “I’m Spider-man. I’m the black Spider-man!”

He’s also taken a large step in his language skills. He feels more confident expressing himself and we’re beginning to see more of his sweet personality. His favorite thing recently is throwing his arms around us and declaring, “I love you, Daddy/Mommy/Olaia/Jaimito/Asier.”

I’m potty trained too, but then I guess you could have guessed that. Laura loves this picture. *wink*

Asier can walk. Here’s a video. He just up and decided it one day, 2008-03-13 at precisely 15:17 (that’s because the video has a datestamp, hehe). His brothers and sister were prodding him, standing him up and encouraging him. Soon he was away with his chubby rolly poley butt. See for yourself.

My Favorite Super Heroes – Iraq Memories Part III

March 19, 2008 / Jim

Here is a little list that I wrote to my kids before I was mobilized for Iraq in 2003. Laura came up with all the subjects. I just filled them in.

Daddy’s Top 10 Cartoons and Super Heroes

Spider-man
Daredevil
Wolverine
Samurai Jack
Iron Man
Bugs Bunny
Tom & Jerry (old)
Conan
Power Puff Girls
(I couldn’t think of 10)

A More Recent Example

March 14, 2008 / Jim

A couple of weeks ago, I had the pleasure of meeting Luis Alberto Rodriguez Guadalupe at the Centro de Evaluación Residencial (Residential Evaluation Center for the Juvenile Justice System in Puerto Rico). His story is as follows:

He was turned over to foster care seven years ago when his parents found they could no longer take care of him. He was lucky to find a family willing to take him in through the foster system. He was particularly bonded to the husband of the family, Fernando Luis Cartagena Torres.

“So, how was it with them? Did you get along?”

“Yes, I was welcomed into the family. I lived with the father.”

“What about the mother?”

“Oh, well,” he said, “They split up about 3 years into my stay. I chose to live with the father. I still saw the wife, but I stay with him.”

“Well, let’s talk about him, then. What is he like?”

“He was great to me, but he was sick. He had a lot of health problems. Actually, he already died.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, when did that happen? How did it happen?” I leaned forward.

“It has been three and a half years. I was with him, and he started having… he had diabetes, and it caused all sorts of problems. He was at home and was feeling weak, and collapsed. They called the hospital and an ambulance came. I rode to the hospital with him. I was with him when they said he died. His heart stopped.”

“Oh my gosh. That must have been terrible. But he sounded like a great man.”

“He was, and then his children came for the funeral, an’ they scattered his ashes on a hill in Coamo his hometown. I got to throw some of the ashes. His kids were there too.”

He didn’t actually say it. I think being a young man, too much emotion wasn’t going to cut it here. But the way he said, “His kids were there too,” a couple of times, I got the sense that he felt accepted into the family. Birth, death, these are the sacred waypoints, and for the siblings to have accepted a foster kid into that moment said something about the family and the bond that had grown. In any case, I understood the implication.

“So,” I said, “He sounded like a great man. A modern example of Christ. You know sometimes we look to the past for examples of how to live our lives, but many times we have the best examples in front of us. Let me ask you something. Have you ever been tired or sick?”

“Yes.”

“How does it make you feel about helping others. When you feel bad, really sick, do you want to go out and help others?”

“I guess not,” he replied, “no.”

Don’t you just want to sit and sulk? And who would blame you? Most people would say for you to get well first, take care of yourself, and then look after others. That’s what is normal. You say that Fernando Luis was very sick. Wouldn’t it have been easier on him if he had said, ‘I will take care of myself first’?”

“I guess.”

“Just think about it. This is a man who was dying, but chose to look after you because he thought you were important. You were important to him. He loved you. He didn’t push you aside and say, ‘I can’t take care of you, because I am sick.’ No, he said that there was nothing he would rather be doing. He gave himself to you. When we talk about the sacrifice of Christ, that is what we are talking about. I hope you take that example with you and apply it.”

Luis Alberto was smiling now. He already knew that Fernando Luis was special, but perhaps my take on the situation exposed a new facet. Maybe he didn’t realize the depth of the man’s love.

“I will say an intention for Fernando Luis,” I said. “I will mention his name at Mass. We will pray for him. I will tell his story. It is an important story. It was good to have met you, Luis Alberto.”

We normally distribute Rosaries at the end of each session. The kids snatch them up with gusto. Although many are not Catholic, Catholicism is deeply embedded into Puerto Rican culture. The wearing of a Rosary is a powerful symbol on the street. I try to combat the “Rosary as accessory” by telling them that it is a reminder of their commitment, un recordadorio de tu compromiso. It is something that helps them not forget what they have been given and where they want to be. In the times when they feel small, petty, vengeful, selfish, or weak, it shall be a symbol to them of the love they have been given. Remember Fernando Luis, the man who gave his life so you may know love.

Remember Fernando Luis Cartagena Torres, Luis Alberto, so that you may be inspired.

Small Victory on the Road to Jericho

March 11, 2008 / Jim

I was on my way to the office when I passed an older man working to change a flat tire. He looked to be in his sixties and drove a modest car. My first inclination was to stop and help him out. Here is a recap of my internal dialog.

I should stop. He looks like he could use a hand.

Oh, there’s no real place to stop. Oops, I just passed him. The traffic is heavy, there’s no space. Should I turn around?

Would I want someone to help me?

But I’m dressed for the office. I’ll get all sweaty and dirty if I stop.

It looks really dangerous. He’s got only 1 or 2 feet of clearance parked where he is in the middle of the road.

It’s too dangerous.

If I stop to help help this man, what will happen to me? I shook my head, and then it hit me. I was on the road to Jericho. No, I think, if I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?

He is in the middle of the road, there is traffic all around. If he slips, if a car passes too close… what would happen to him if I’m not there to help?

I wheeled around and pulled up in where he was. I stepped out of the car and asked him if he needed a hand. He didn’t really, but "Thank you," he said.

He was finishing up, but I told him I’d stand and watch for cars. I’m tall and hard to miss. I’ll make sure that the cars see you here.

Again, he thanked me. I said I wished I could have gotten there sooner to help, because this thing has happened to me many times. He tightened the lugs and stood up. I shook his hand and wished him a good day. We got into our cars and drove off.

I know I didn’t really do anything physically helpful. Would that I had arrived earlier, but I suppose, with all the cars passing by barely noticing a fellow, my presence was lifting. You’re not alone, hermano. If anything, there was someone today looking out for you on the road to Jericho.

Oh Come On, I Actually DO Like Obama

February 11, 2008 / Jim

And here’s why:

First, I know he’s not going to enter into illegal wars. I also like the idea that a leader isn’t the doer-in-chief. He seems to realize that change comes from the bottom up, and that it is the role of the leader to inspire, nurture, or not get in the way.

I like that.

I also don’t think he has a problem sitting down at the table with Iran, Venezuela, North Korea and having a talk. How can we turn down the tension, he would ask? He realizes the strong nation reaches out, makes concessions, looks for peace, and isn’t afraid of diplomacy. It is the weak nation that stonewalls dialog, refuses to listen, and uses the thread of force as a weapon of first resort.

When I picked up my little dog Billy from the street, he was a nervous little crazy nut. He was nippy and erratic, a little lunatic. I reacted to him with anger and authority. I tried to cow him into compliance. It just made him more insane. Then I realized if I spoke softly to him, stroked him gently, put myself on an even plane with him, he was much more reasonable. It didn’t take anything away from me. I knew I was still in charge, but if I could make him feel like he was a little bit more in control of his domain, it made all the difference.

I think Obama understands that. He’s multi-ethnic, multi-cultural, well traveled. I think those things give you a perspective on the world that makes you less afraid.

I’ve had discussions about the "illegals problem" I always ask what is this problem? It doesn’t seem to be a problem to me. At some point, the erosion of the English language is mentioned. I would ask again "Okay, so what is the ‘language problem’? What is this problem? I need to know, because it doesn’t seem to be a problem to me." Thinking the "problem" self-evident, we end up devolving into game saying and catch phrases gleaned from talk radio, until finally when all is exhausted, out comes the final appeal to authority,"they broke the law."

But it’s just fear, fear that they are bad, and they are bad because you don’t understand them. I get the impression from Obama, that he sees lack of understanding as an opportunity to understand. He may not be fully informed on all issues, but he’s not fearful about getting to know them. He might not speak Spanish, or Farsi, or Arabic, but I think he’s willing to accept that those people are just like our people. We aren’t that different. And we shouldn’t be afraid.

That’s the key. I’m sick and tired of politicians pandering to fear. Elect the Dems and it’s a vote for terror! Elect the Dems and dirty Mexicans will overrun the border, take your jobs, and marry your daughter! Elect the Dems and the economy will stagnate further, turn to socialism and your lives will be over… or worse, be like Europe.

Bah! Obama says, your future can be as bright as you want it to be. He says, I’m not going to pander to your fears. I’m going to be fearless. I’m going to be a black man running for president in a still decidedly racist country. I’m not afraid. You shouldn’t be either.

What the republicans won’t tell you, and this is their dirty little secret: Lowering taxes does not help the economy. Raising them doesn’t either, but that’s neither here nor there. The secret is this: hope builds the economy. When people have hope, when they see a future that looks bright, they create. They build. They grow. That is why the economy booms. Right now the economy is in the tank because people are afraid, and the current leadership doesn’t want to give up that tool of oppression and control. A vote for McCain is a vote for fear, a vote for more foreign wars, more erosion of the Constitution, and a continued lessening of the collective national spirit.

Obama, I think, has this idealistic, audacious child-like hope, not dashed by fear, not crushed under the heal of bureaucracy. The grownups at the table might snicker at his audacity, "Son, you just don’t get how the world works, do you? Let the grown-ups handle things, okay?"

Obama, "And how’s that been going, hmm?"

Supervision is not a Power

February 2, 2008 / Jim

"Javier, come here, little boy. You need supervision. I’m tired of you getting into things!"

"I not a super hero."

"Huh?" What could he be saying, I thought.

"I not super vision. Not super hero."

"Haha, no, Javier, you’re not going to get super vision. Hehe, you crack me up."

"I funny, daddy, yeah?"

"Yes, Javier."

Obama Was Not Right from Day One

February 1, 2008 / Jim

I was surprised to find out today that Barack Obama isn’t being truthful about his Iraq War Voting record. I know I know, I’m bummed. I liked the guy. Up until today I would have supported him. Maybe I still do. But I’m not so sure anymore. How can people be so disingenuous about such big issues? And why has no one else mentioned this.

Barack Obama may have opposed the war in 2003, but he never voted against it. What?! You heard me right. He never actually voted against it. Why? How? Wha?

He didn’t vote against the war, because he didn’t become a senator until 2005, that’s why. When the debate and vote on whether or not there were weapons of mass destruction, or whether or not we would go to war with Iraq, Barack Obama was a state representative (local state politician, not national), for the 13th District of Illinois. He wasn’t there. He was just a twinkle in his Senate seat’s pants.

What!? How could this be? Haven’t we heard about how he was right from day one. What was day one for him? How can you be right from day one when your day one didn’t start until January of 2005?

If we are going to elect people on their ability to be "right" then elect me. I said in 2002 there were no weapons of mass destruction. I said we shouldn’t have gone in. Check this post. I wrote that back in March of 2003. I knew it was wrong. Props for Obama as an armchair foreign policy quarterback, but it sure as hell isn’t anything upon which to base your complete campaign.

I like the guy, but if he wasn’t a member of Congress, he had nothing to lose by taking that position. I had nothing to lose. I had no authority. He had no authority. I had no access to classified intelligence. He had no access to classified intelligence.

Now, as far as I’m concerned, Obama based his opposition to the war on a hunch.

Sounds remarkably like our current president, doesn’t it?

I’m still alive, but stuck. Throw me a branch or something

January 31, 2008 / Jim

Sorry I haven’t kept up. It’s always a pain to get it going here after a long vacation.

For some reason all the momentum that I had heading into the holidays was just eaten up by a soft mushy substance. We refer to it in engineering as a dampening material. You rush with great speed into this pool of sticky stuff. You collide with it at high speed and a single stupid low amplitude undulating wave makes its way only a few feet before it subsides, dragged back to the depths. Some small perturbations emanate outward and dissipate in soft waves through the viscous liquid, but if they have any affect at all, it is only to increase the temperature imperceptibly.

You get extracted out of your normal flow and life just seems to slow down. It slows down to the point where you’re like a fly caught in amber, stuck solid.

That’s where I am now, stuck to the trunk in tree sap. Get a little stick and pick me out, will you?

We’re all back in Puerto Rico now, trying to get back into the routine. There’s lots of work to do. I’ve got a couple of posts in my drafts, but I have to clean them up a bit. They need a lot of proof reading. I really don’t know what my deal is. Perhaps I need more alcohol or something. Coffee makes me edgy and difficult, but alcohol seems to release the inner joy.

Sigh. Here’s to some inebriated posting in the near future.