It’s too easy, now.

I’ve been bashing Bush for several reasons lately, which can be summarized as:

1) He’s an idiot.
2) Big business owns him, especially big oil.
3) He pursues policies that seem frighteningly disconnected from reality.
4) He’s an idiot.

But by now we know all that, don’t we? What of the other guy, John Kerry, the man that almost everyone assumes is the only alternative to Bush? Well, one thing we know is that he promises to keep jobs from going overseas. Uh, huh. He’s standing up in front of unions and laborers promising to keep their jobs safe. There are only two problems with that plan. He can’t, and even is he could he shouldn’t.

Starting with can’t, the president of the United States just doesn’t have the power to tell companies how to run their businesses. Businesses are going to find ways to cut costs or they’re going to go out of business. He may try to penalize companies for using offshore labor, but in the end the trend is too big unless he closes the border completely to imports. That would see him sitting out on Pennsylvania Avenue with his suitcases piled around him.

And well it should. Our economy depends on that cheap labor. Everyone is in favor of keeping the jobs here until they see the price of their shoes double. Technology at home and cheap labor abroad are the two things keeping our economy growing virtually inflation-free, and both are bad for unskilled and low-skilled domestic labor.

Another reason to avoid protectionism (and that is what Kerry is proposing, job protectionism) is that the only way to equalize labor markets worldwide is to let the work flow between countries. Creating jobs in those countries where labor is currently extremely cheap (which is synonymous with abusive to the workers) will eventually lead to better work conditions and higher wages, as workers gain power and have more choice. Only where jobs are plentiful can a person earn a decent wage.

As an aside, this does not mean I endorse US companies tolerating inhuman conditions in their supplier’s factories overseas. The amount of money that moves through some of those empires dwarfs the economies of some nations*. Our corporations could do a great deal more to end suffering than they do, and without much effect on the bottom line. However, it is consumer activism, not the government, that has the power to alter the behavior of multinational corporations.

How do we keep America employed? The same way we always have, by having the best-educated, most productive workers in the world. Not the cheapest, the best. That means taking all that money we’re flushing down the toilet in Iraq and defending Western Europe and putting it into schools and training programs here in the US. It was not long ago that technology companies simply could not find enough qualified workers. That has returned to a more rational keel lately, but the supply of skilled workers will continue to be an important factor to any company choosing where to open its next plant.

Finally, there is national security. Poverty in the third world, exploding populations, and dwindling resources are the biggest threats our nation faces. We’ll forget all about Iraq if Mexico begins to falter. Prosperity is the worst enemy of tyranny. It is no accident that despots keep their citizens poor and ill-educated. We need to spread prosperity, and that means spreading jobs. That fact that it makes us more prosperous as a whole also is just one of those miracles of free trade.

*If anyone wants to fact-check me on that, I’d like to hear from you. I’m just kind of assuming.

Elevator Ocelot Rutabaga

As of this morning, I am at the top of the Google search for “elevator ocelot rutabaga”. It took somewhere between 3 and 4 days for Google to record that entry.

Just thought you might like to know.

Searching on just the word rutabaga didn’t bring up my blog anywhere near the top, but it did bring up this. Let’s hear it for National Rutabaga Month!

Plans Taking Shape

I’ll be here in beautiful Scott’s Valley and environs for a few more days, maybe ten. Then I’ll head over to Tahoe, and from there down to Yosemite to catch Old Faithful and all that stuff. After that I’ll spin through Death Valley on my way to Vegas, then down to San Diego to take care of all the odds and ends I need to close. Then a drive over to New Mexico, dispose of the car, fly to San Angelo, fly to Durham, then from there to Prague.

Plan your parties accordingly!

Nothing is in stone, and you will notice a distinct lack of dates. If the road is friendly and the sun is shining, A visit to Bob is still very much an option.

Jer’s Novel Writer approaching public beta

However, what I don’t have is the user registration stuff, which will eventually be part of the commerce solution. The commerce thing will be Web-based, and I want to have my final hosting solution in place first.

So any of you out there have good suggestions about the e-commerce angle? I’ve been looking into PayPal, which seems reasonable, but doesn’t address user codes, software timing out, and stuff like that.

The other requirement for a public beta is a place where people can report bugs, comment on other bugs, and I can update users about progress in fixing those bugs. As long as I have all that, I may as well expand the role of the system into a full BBS where writers can hand out and talk about writing. Or whatever it is they talk about.

This blog entry is really just shameless reuse of the status report I’m adding at jerssoftwarehut.com/. Felt like I had to post something here.

The Google Has Landed

Feel free to look around, leave a comment, or whatever. Leave your mark – who knows, it may be worth something someday.

Searches for the last couple of days have included:

“Half Baked Ideas” (came up 10th) was used twice today from two different ip addresses
“build motorcycle contest” (came up 2nd)
“iblog hit meter” (came in first!)
“La Dolce Vida” (came in first in an aol search) has been used more than once
“la dolce vida” (also came in first on Google)
“tomash czech” (came in fifth)

and it goes on. Misspelling vita certainly helped my rankings among similarly impaired searchers. Now, of course, since I have used all the key words again, google will send even more people here that really have no interest in what I have to say. I think variety is the key. If you put in enough unrelated topics, you’ll get some odd matches. And who knows? Maybe out there is someone who is really interested in building a hotel on the moon or a robot race vehicle.

In closing, I would just like to say, “elevator ocelot rutabaga”.

Exciting Addendum!
After talking about google so much, I did a search on the word “Google” and found this. Somebody’s stealing my ideas over there.

A Day in the Life

Miles: 528.7
Location: John and Janice’s house, Scott’s Valley, CA

Just spent the evening talking with John about all the old stuff – music, beer, and ideas. It’s funny that after all this time the conversation still seems fresh. (I reconsidered using ‘fresh’ because I understand that the kids have worn it into a cliché these days, but dammit, it’s the right word. No-good kids.)

I will backfill this entry with the names of the bands that we listened to, but one of those bands was Polkacide – the raw takes from a recent studio session, and I thought it further proof that those boys were born to do a live album. The raw takes demonstrate that they’re better when they just go after it without thinking so hard.

I heard a couple of new stories from old Polkacide gigs, and I heard music by the Polkaholics, which everyone must experience before they die. Which means that before tonight, I did not need to fear death. Had I only known! My life could have been so carefree until now, when the shadow of death has become irrefutably real. Curse you, Polkaholics!

We also drank several beers. I’m going to sleep now.

Big Sur


View JHT – Big Sur in a larger map

Miles: 518.5
Location: Santa Cruz Diner, Santa Cruz, CA.
Number of RV’s I got stuck behind: 0(!)

The morning was cloudy and came an hour too soon, but the smell of bacon finally pulled me out of hibernation, and it was just what my poor stomach needed after I sent so much wine down my gullet yesterday. After breakfast and a quick game of Scrabble, I said my goodbye-but-hopefully-not-forevers and hit the road, heading north up Highway 1.

By the time I passed the Madonna Inn the sky was clearing and the day was looking promising. I passed a cool-looking cemetary in Morro Bay, just to the north of San Louis Obispo, and I turned around to get some pictures. Many of the fancy graves had occupants named Madonna. Coincidence? Unlikely. I’ll put some pictures up at my Web site and link to them here – as soon as I figure out the best way to do that.

The drive up Big Sur was excellent. There were actually times I was not stuck behind slower-moving traffic and could really drive. When I did come up on a line of cars, I would pull over for a few minutes and let them get ahead again. If the line wasn’t too slow, I would just putt along with them and concentrate on sightseeing instead. Eventually most people will pull off the road to let the Mario Andretti wannabes pass.

Got here with a case of Exploding Bladder Syndrome, so rather than go looking for John and Janice’s house, I stopped here for relief and a bite to eat. Some guy just threw some coins at a waitress – apparently he had tried to leave without paying and was mad because she wouldn’t let him. That’s her story, anyway, and he’s not here anymore to tell this reporter his version.

Wine Tasting

Miles: 315.3
Location: Grover Beach, just south of Pismo Beach in Central California.

Went wine tasting. It was good. I didn’t drive. That was good. Sentence, three words. Three words good. Right now the other five people in this house are all packed in the kitchen, making dinner. The ingredients going in are excellent; it remains to be seen they can compensate for having five (argumentative) chefs to make a meal for six people. Oooh, it’s complicated.

By the time I got up this morning (6:30), Mikie was heading out to go fishing with Art, who was already long gone (He gets up at 4:30, and he’s retired. How messed up is that?). When questioned by the distaff about what he would do with any fish he caught, he said, “It’s all catch and release.” Since none of us believed that he would catch anything, we were prepared to take him at his word.

When he showed up 45 minutes later with two fish in his bucket, No one seemed surprised that the “and release” part of his plan went out the window as soon as he managed the “catch” part. It seems Art decided that he would clean and eat the fish rather than buy a lobster for the big seafood dinner we were planning for the evening.

We spent the afternoon in the Templeton area visiting wineries. Had a lot of different wines, some very good, others not. We stopped by the pier to get our seafood but lobster season ended last week. We got a ton (… well, OK, 5 pounds) of shrimp and a load of clams as well. Dinner was good, and the wine drinking continued apace. Fun was had by all. Fell asleep watching Amazon Women in the Avocado Jungle of Death.

Hmm… A relaxing day, but not really the kind of entry that’s going to keep you glued to your set, is it?

Day 1 – Happy Birthday to me

Miles: 315.3
Location: Grover Beach, just south of Pismo Beach in Central California.

I’ll not bore you with the details, but let’s just say moving out of a home you’ve occupied for ten years is like when you’re a kid and the snow is melting, leaving some really good mud to squish way down in, only to discover that you can’t get your boot out. I never knew how many clothes I had, especially since I don’t buy clothes very often at all. Triska’s last legacy.

The problem was exacerbated when I was told that the boxes I had packed to ship to Prague were too large. They didn’t really seem that large to me, but then no one asked me. Suddenly I had even more crap to take care of – I had already taken three large garbage bags of clothes to Goodwill. The break wasn’t as clean as I wanted it to be, then, as I must go back to take care of a few boxes, and some other junk. If I had stayed another day I could have got more of it done, but I was getting antsy to get out of there.

So, finally, on the road, car loaded with new luggage poorly packed, I almost missed the turn to go north on 5, driving on habit. Yesterday I was imagining that the moment I drove away to be one of euphoria or excitement, but instead I felt nostalgia, melancholy and just plain tired. I couldn’t help but think how much I had liked living in that house, and in San Diego in general. I stopped off at the Chevron on Birmingham and I wondered how much two twelve-packs of Sheaffer would cost these days. Certainly more than $9.10. I was not tempted to drive by the Emmadome multi-sport complex; I just jumped back on the freeway and rejoined the stop-and-go traffic.

LA was LA. I regretted moving out of range of KPBS, but then I found other stations. North of LA, when the scenery becomes spectacular, it was dark, but the drive from there on up was pleasant. Got a little lost finding the house (East Grand is west of Grand, which made me think I was going the wrong way, so I turned around and then I was going the wrong way.)

Got here just in time to have a single Birthday Guinness before it wasn’t my birthday anymore. Bushed, I went to sleep.

So the trip did not have that Hollywood “Vegas, baby! Vegas!” opening scene. It started in a contemplative mood, as a sequel might, which is perhaps more appropriate.

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Tomorrow the adventure begins

First, the posts will (hopefully) be more interesting as I spin for you the story of life on the road, unfettered by good judgement. Second, the updates will be less frequent. I’ll keep writing stuff, but there may be periods with no updates then all of a sudden, wham, several days worth of fascinating drivel.

Keep the comments going! That way you’re giving the next viewer new things to read even when I’m not around. Remember, this isn’t just about me, it’s about community. (*sniff*)

On another note, moving sucks. Took the second truckload of crap to the dump today. Got a nostalgia twinge when I was throwing away some old dog toys, but I’m ready to be gone.

Darth Vader returns!

My roommate Travis had a serious underbite, and he just had surgery to correct it. The procedure was called Upper Mandible something-or-other. I’d ask him what it was called but he wouldn’t be able to tell me anyway.

See, the thing about the upper mandible is that it’s attached to your head. Not just sort of attached, but really fused on there. Otherwise your upper teeth would move around, and we can’t have that. What happens if you wish to scoot your mandible forward a bit? You go to a doctor who starts by breaking your face.

Once you get your face good and broken, the doctor can scoot the ‘ol mandible around to his heart’s content. The next step in the chain of misery, however, is that once your choppers are correctly aligned, you want to nail down the mandible again so it goes back to its stodgy immobile old ways. This takes several weeks, during which time your mouth is wired completely shut.

Travis had his face broken Monday, and had to stay overnight in the hospital because he was bleeding too much and some of that was getting in his lungs. His pie hole is wired so tight he can barely even spit. When he got home yesterday his face was the size of a bowling ball and he had two tubes wedged into the sides of his mouth to help him breathe. He sounds like Darth Vader and looks kinda like him as well. You know, in the scene where he’s dying.

I believe the estimate for how long Travis will be eating through a little tube the he sticks back in the corner of his mouth is 6 weeks. Then, not only will his teeth line up like little pearly cheerleaders but I imagine he will be a new, trim version of Travis.

I’m not sure – I’m embarrassed to ask – but I think he got the surgery done on purpose.

The Other Rooms in Hell

But what are the other rooms in Hell, and what would they be like? Hell’s bathroom?

Hell’s bedroom is fertile ground for marriage jokes, but let’s face it, the potential for pain and humiliation is greater there than anywhere else. Hell’s foyer would, I think, be understated and tastefully decorated. Hell’s dining room, on the other hand, would have all sorts of fine china, but you have to eat with hammers..

I think I would like to visit Hell’s library. Taste the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge. Mmmm… magically delicious!

What about Hell’s laundry room? Hell’s garage?

Panicing

But I have to kick back sometime, right?

New category here at the blog!

Poems, everyone!

And a free commemorative slap on the back to the first person to identify that reference.

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From the old days

From the old days

Now’s the time to do sleep,
Close the eyes, count the sheep,
And when cock’s crow makes chickens cluck
to roll over, mutter, “fuck”
And sleep some more.

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