Sneaky Bastard

I wonder if they have a version for Mac OS X. I haven’t had any computers running Mac OS since it was discontinued almost a decade ago.

Also: Hey you kids, get off my lawn!!

Here are a few screenshots from the movie showing generic product labeling.

Awesome.

-joseph

Thanks for asking.

I migrated from an old server running MachBlog to a new machine running WordPress. I haven’t had time to fix the stylesheet and images yet. I’ll work on it when I finish a couple of overdue jobs.

Here is your call to action, my minions.

• 1Password
• TextExpander
• Versions
• Final Cut Studio 2
• iLife ‘09
• Adobe Creative Suite 4 Web Premium Professional Extended Master Complete
• Apple MacBook Air
• Apple AirPort Extreme
• Drobo 2nd Generation 4Tb Bundle

Take that, sluggish economy!

I’ve had a day to reflect on being without Olie, and a chance to catch up on sleep. There are so many things about my day that remind me of him. Some are intentional, and some are habits that I’m just now realizing: going to coffee and sitting on the patio, checking his water bowl every time I walk down the hall, looking for him behind my chair before rolling away from my desk, seeing if he’s asleep in the office before I whistle to myself.

By last Sunday, it was apparent that Olie’s health was quickly worsening. He had difficulty walking — so much so that I used a harness to hold him up when his legs gave way. His panting was constant, and we would later learn that he had a type of pneumonia. Olie had an appointment for Monday at 1100 hrs to remove the catheter in his front leg, but it was clear that the only humane action would be to put him to sleep. I wanted to do something nice for him, just to express how much I loved him one more time. It may sound weird, but I decided to take him to In-n-Out for a cheeseburger. He was always so excited when I shared a bite with him. On the way to the vet’s office, I picked up Kelly at work. I waited with Olie on the patio at In-n-Out while Kelly ordered him a Double-Double, no vegetables. He scarfed it down in seconds, but it was clear that my friend wasn’t completely present.

We sat on a blanket with Olie in an exam room. We both cried and told him how much we loved him. Kelly asked for him to be given a sedative so he could have a moment’s rest. I looked down at his little body and felt a wave of sorrow and relief. In a few days I will make an oak box to hold his ashes, and maybe one of his favorite squeaky toys.

I watched a movie with Heather and Denise last night, then came home to clean the house for a bit and put away some of Olie’s things. It’s hard to be without him at home, where he was nearly always within arm’s length. I tried to give him the best life I could, to the point of spoiling him, no doubt. However, since I won’t have any children, I think I’m allowed. I’d like to toast Olie with a drink. I’d really, really like a drink, but being sober is the only I’ll cope with the grief. In a few weeks, we’ll have a gathering to remember Olie; a BBQ with plenty of sausages. :)

A few months ago (at age 13), Olie had the first seizure that I was present to witness. He could tell that something was wrong, and jumped down from the bed before it started. His facial muscles tightened up to expose his teeth and gums, and his jaw started to spasm open and closed. Apparently, this “chewing gum” fit is common in canines for a wide variety of reasons. I brought him in to the Animal Hospital of Thousand Oaks to see his regular vet, Sharon Bass, DVM. Olie had another two seizure episodes in the following week, but then nothing for a couple months. In December, he had a cluster of episodes over a weekend, and then nothing until last week.

During the night of 22 January 2009, Olie had several seizures of greater severity than previously. Olie was lethargic and unstable in the morning. He even walked away from breakfast, which he has never done before. That afternoon I took him in to see Debra Klumb, DVM — I assume that Sharon was busy with a surgery or otherwise booked. She requested a group of blood and urine tests that would identify problems with his liver, kidney, pancreas, etc. — basically everything outside the brain. He placed very little weight on his hind legs, and did not bother to keep his legs under his center of mass or inline with his spine. Before Olie could go back to have samples drawn, he had a seizure on the exam room floor. Fortunately this episode was consistent with the others, so Debra was able to see the symptoms first hand. They immediately gave Olie IV phenobarbital and diazepam. They took a series of chest and abdominal x-rays, but everything looked normal enough compared to his last set on file. Although he has a fairly pronounced heart murmur, the size and position of his heart looked okay on the screen. His lungs and liver looked healthy; the kidneys were obscured. Debra prescribed phenobarbital to prevent more seizures.

After a couple hours of observation, I took Olie home. Kelly and Udo came to visit him that night. The Valium (diazepam) wore off by 2100 hrs, and Olie’s behavior was agitated and restless. He regained his appetite, and didn’t seem satisfied with his normal meal. Throughout the night, he paced about the house and cried. I didn’t realize it until morning, but the tops of his hind feet were bloody from dragging them. I tried to put him in his normal spot on the bed, but he wouldn’t stay still.

Olie and I went back to the vet’s office at 0900 hrs on 24 January 2009. Heather met me there to provide support while waiting. The lab results were in, and all the values looked normal. It is helpful to have baseline values in the file from the Senior Wellness Examination he had a couple years ago. At this point, we can make the assumption that there is a tumor or other brain defect that is the cause of the seizures. It’s possible to have some advanced diagnostic imaging done on his head to get a better look at his brain, but because there aren’t any reasonable treatment options, having a picture of the tumor won’t help.

Olie had the IV catheter flushed out, and a dose of corticosteroid administered in the hopes of reducing any swelling that may be causing pain. We left with a prescription of dexamethasone. I hadn’t slept much in the last 48 hours; Heather offered to watch Olie while I slept, which was a great sanity boost. I took Olie home that night, and hoped he would be able to get some sleep. He slept in 10-15 minute intervals, getting up to pace around the bedroom in between. I mopped all the floors and put booties on his feet to protect them (his feet, not the floors). I played some music for him — he likes Sarah McLauchlin. He has been drinking much more water than normal, and I let him out on the lawn every couple hours.

Olie has started chewing on things that he wouldn’t normally chew on: wires, door stops, sprinkler heads. I don’t have a guess for what that would be. He also has been walking to corners of rooms and staring there for several minutes. His vision and hearing have definitely been impaired. He doesn’t want to walk backwards; after taking a drink from his water bowl, he’ll walk through it to continue forward, rather than turn away. He’s definitely not himself.

This morning I feed Olie a bit more than normal, and his appetite was ravenous. Since yesterday, we’ve increased his phenobarbital to three times a day. It may be that the level is building up to the point that it is making him sleepy. He’s resting on his bed in my office right now. He has lost most of the control of his hind legs, and is generally uncoordinated. I don’t know why that is, or if he will regain control. At this point, I just want him to be as comfortable as possible, and able to continue fighting if that’s what he wants to do.

Over the weekend I cut the post down to the height specified by the USPS (46"-48"). I threw together a design in a few minutes, trying to accommodate the distance that the mailbox should be set back from the face of the curb (7"-9"). There are a few reasons I'm not thrilled with the design: the notch in the front, the fact that the mailbox isn't centered on the post, and that I couldn't keep the full height of the post, with the mailbox to one side. Regardless, I plowed forward. The redwood lumber and finish was left over from another project. I applied some fence boards to the post and affixed the mailbox support with 1/4" x 2-1/2" lag screws. There is (was) a 3/4" counterbore that I planned to plug with some 3/4" dowel. Guess what the true diameter of a 3/4" dowel is — about 0.70". It was too sloppy a fit, so I chiseled the round holes square and glued some pieces of redwood in place. I sanded the whole thing fairly smooth; not furniture grade, but well enough to even out the colors of the two types of wood. I used a clear silicone sealer on the wood to keep it from splintering to pieces in the sun.

The mailbox was ordered through Amazon. They call it a Super-Tough Vandal-Proof Mailbox : 20 Pounds of Steel : Made in USA. Quite a product title, but accurate.

In these pictures, the cable company's junction box looks wildly crooked. That's only an effect of lens distortion caused by the iPhone. If I had taken the time to pull out a real camera, it would look more accurate.

I have yet to apply the street numbers, secure the mailbox to the support, and install the light that will shine on the driveway. I'll save that for another day.

Dear TiVo,

I think we should see other people. Our relationship just isn’t working like it did in the beginning. I called you this morning to cancel service, and I took a few notes that I’d like to share with you.

I’m already pissed that canceling an account is perhaps the only thing I can’t do using the self-service web interface. When I’m forced to call customer service, and the automated attendant plays a message about long wait times (and suggests that I could solve my problem online), it makes me even more pissed.

I entered my phone number when prompted, why are you asking me for it again? If there was no match on that number, say so; you need to acknowledge that you’re asking me for the same information again.

I told you what my name is, why do you insist on calling me "Joe"? I’m not using the first, second, and fourth characters of your name, or any of our cutsie petnames.

Three to four minutes to cancel an account? Why, so I’m forced to listen to your upsell pitch? If you’re going to ask me sales weasel questions, at the very least listen to my answers — don’t skip to the next question on your script that obviously doesn’t apply.

I’m sure you’ll find your soulmate some day. Keep your chin up.

Love,

Joseph

I am now cable free. With my antique standard definition digital boxes placed on the customer service counter, I paid my last bill. It felt so good. I’ll miss having programs waiting for me on my TiVo and using its excellent user interface. I’m a little annoyed that I have to call them (read: listen to a cancellation-prevention script) to close my account. Since my TiVo box is more than 7 years old and I’ve paid them $1108.65 for programming service to date, I think it’s pretty reasonable. Since owning a DVR, watching live television has become torture. The only exception I make is for watching football; for whatever reason, I don’t get excited about seeing a time-delayed game.

I get all the media I have time for online through video sites, podcasts, and downloads. I’ve even let my NetFlix account lapse. I’ve considered getting a game console like Nintendo Wii or PlayStation (a Microsoft Xbox is out of the question, for obvious reasons). I love auto racing games, but I wouldn’t be satisfied a good force-feedback wheel and peddles. I don’t want to sink a whole bunch of time into playing games either. It’s funny how little time I spend in the living room now that the television set (a nearly 10 year old, 115 pound JVC AV-32D200) has been dormant. I haven’t looked on eBay or Craig’s List to see how much I could get for it, but I suspect the most interested buyers would use it for target practice. Is there any use for CRTs anymore? I can’t think of one.

A few days ago, I walked out my front door and saw a bundle of mail bound with a rubber band. Surprised, I scooped it up and continued walking to the truck. As I backed out of the driveway, I noticed that my mailbox was missing. This wasn’t surprising at all. For a long time (months? years?) I’ve had my old, broken mailbox stuck in a 5 gallon bucket filled with bricks; glamourous, I know. So finally someone yanked it out of the bucket. There were two possibilities that came to mind: 1) a neighbor was fed-up seeing the ugly thing, or 2) some kids took it. If it was some neighborhood hooligans, I figured they would have ditched it somewhere once the novelty of a box on a stick wore off. Sure enough, it was stuck in the mud about 100 yards away.

I decided it was time to replace the eyesore. This would also be a good opportunity to wire up the yard light that I had planned when putting in the new driveway (four years ago). After gingerly digging to avoid chopping through the cable lines, I discovered that their conduits run exactly where I planned to place the mailbox. I located the new post as close to the driveway as possible. The post hole is 36 inches deep, 8 inches in diameter. I poured some gravel into the bottom and set a form tube. I used a bit less than two 60 pound bags of concrete.

The next step is to order a mailbox online (I was disappointed with Home Depot’s selection) and trim out the post with some redwood to match the fence.