Back home, safe and sound...

I was out in Oak Brook, Illinois again last week. Working with the good folks at McDonald's. In an odd coincidence, there were two young ladies sitting next to me on my flight out. And one of them didn't know how to fasten her safety belt. It was her first time flying. Even with the flight attendant's instructions. I thought that was really weird - like it's been years since I first flew, but, you know, I don't remember having trouble with the seat belts. Anyway- these two gals were going to the same place I was - they were going to "Hamburger University." What are the odds of that?

I had a pretty neat thing happen. Back in my SSG (Systems Solutions Group) days, we had this running debate over the merits of part of our mission statement which was to "delight our customers." Like when is a customer ever "delighted," you know? Most of the time, we are lucky to have them satisfied, and sometimes it's a struggle just to get sign off and get paid.

Well, after like more than a dozen years of doing what I do, I finally delighted a customer. We did a little demo of the Nutrition Facts application and this was their reaction...


Literally dropped jaws while they stared in wonder at the speaker phone.

That was a pretty cool feeling.

And we made a lot of progress planning for the next phase of the project, which is speech rec everywhere. I think the most challeging stuff is behind us with what we've done already. The next part will be mostly menu navigation (call flows, not like the McDonald's menu). It should be fun because I get to put a lot of effort in to polishing and creating the system's personality. And that's fun for me.

And they spoiled us. Dinner at Ditka's and lots of McFree Stuff.


Ditka's was awesome. Coach wasn't there, but the meal was amazing. They had Pot Roast Nachos. That's right, pot roast nachos. You know, nachos, but instead of ground beef and the like, it had pot roast on it. And filet mignon sliders.

And this was my dessert, banana cream pie - you know to get some fruit in my diet. I couldn't finish it.

I got a T-shirt for me and a "Coach's Kick Ass" cigar for my Dad.

Rachel picked me up at the airport. And we stopped at the recently reopened Granzela's in Williams for lunch on the way home. And I got home and found my desk not at all the way I had left it.


Thanks wife. And let me just sing a few lines from "She Blinded Me With Science" - "She's done it again...she's tidied up and I can't find anything! All my tubes and wires..." Fortunately, she's usually right behind me at her desk, so I will get by. I still don't understand how clutter happens. It just does. It's like my clean desktop is a magnet for scraps of paper with both important and inane things scribbled on them, and mail, and harmonicas and hats and mail and coffee mugs, some half full, others half empty, and so on. I'm going to try to implement a clean desk policy - make the desk a tabla rasa after each work day. That should last until like Wednesday.

I'm reading Thomas Pynchon's Inherent Vice.

Travis and I are reading it together. I wanted to wait for the Kindle version, and Travis joked, "Yeah that first edition hard cover Kindle version will be worth a lot someday." So I just bought the tree killer version.

I'm about halfway through it. Can't help but think of The Dude in the early 70s instead of the early 90s. Others have made that connection as well. And it reminds me a little of The Crying of Lot 49. It's got a lot of Pynchon trademarks. But it isn't really coming together for me yet. We'll see what happens in the second half. Maybe it's not supposed to. Maybe we are supposed to be, like Doc, lost in a marijuana haze of bizarre events and strange connections- an eternal fuzzy present where nothing changes but everything happens.

God I wish I was still in College and writing things like that last line to finish a paper at three in the morning.

I got this crazy notion last night. Like, OK, we have computers that can be taught how to create music. My theory goes, somebody dumped all of Pynchon's previous works in to a computer. And then also dumped in a bunch of hard boiled detective stories. And then the instructed the computer to write a hard boiled detective story in the style of Thomas Pynchon.

I've got some chores to do. I need to fix those little Malibu lights in the yard and a few more up where we added grass. Should look nice tonight when I'm finished - see I am trying to begin with the end in mind. Because it's over 100 out right now. And sitting here right now is nice. I also want to get the car in the garage again.

And I think we are having construction start next week. Getting the upstairs deck sealed so we won't leak in to the sun room. Which is now, of course, the Hotel Yorba Gym. We're also getting the dryer vented all the way to the outside. Which I think will legally and technically make the room "finished" and add almost 400 square feet to our house. Which in this economy, should add like 10 bucks to the value of our home.

Bummer Post...Something wrong with the Universe today...

Something was wrong with the Universe today. Or at least in my little space in that Universe. Lauren had a bummer day, Rachel had a crazy day and almost got in yet another car accident on Tubbs. And for me - work was crazy busy, and our customer just seemed grumpy today - like they just wanted to be mad at us about something.

And I had wood delivered, cable installed (bye bye DirectTV - you suck!), and got our contract signed for repairing our deck. Big check, that one. It sucks. And the box doesn't work and they only gave us one remote which was (and is) sticky (no way I'm cleaning that thing - they can bring me one in plastic). And they can't send someone out again until Thursday. And at least I still ahve the DirectTV boxes, but I would really hate to go back to those jerks.And if Rachel can't record Project Runway, I am going to be in trouble.

Oh, and I got Rachel a watch on eBay for our anniversary. And it got here not running, but at a different time and date than the auction photo, so I can only hope the battery died in transit. What are the odds of that, though? Oh, and it didn't arrive till like 8:00 PM. And along with it came a package addressed to my sister but with my parents' address in Novato. How weird is that? That never happens with UPS, does it?

Anyway - the biggest bummer is my boy is in an ace bandage, a knee brace, and on crutches a few days before school starts.

Jake hurt his knee a few weeks ago at Saul's party. And maybe the injury goes back as far as a bad slide during baseball season. But it's hard to tell with kids growing and all. Something always seems to ached when he's going through growth spurts. And it was never enough to keep him from doing things.

Anyway, he went to watch Kaitlin's soccer practice yesterday, and ended up kicking some balls for the boy's team or something. And something in his knee popped. We got him home. It was swollen and I could feel some things just weren't right in there when I moved it around.

Rachel took him to Kaiser today. Doctor said he may need X-rays and physical therapy, and that it is hopefully just a bad strain or muscle tear. But, of course, they couldn't get X-rays or see the physical therapist today while they were in town. No, we have to wait till tomorrow just to make an appointment. And we have Kaiser, so he can't go to Physical Therapy locally, we have to drive to Petaluma.

The next time I see one of those morons screaming against health care reform, I'm gonna scream at the TV - or in their face if it's a local protest and I happen to be in the area.

Oh, and Travis got a new Jackson guitar.

Not today, though. Nothing much good happened today to anyone I know (that I know of).

Here's to a better day tomorrow for all of us.

Hotel Yorba Guests Last Weekend...

Elise, Miles, and Caroline stayed with us last weekend. It was another blast.


Elise is a foodie too. And we cooked and ate a Giant Mexi-Feast. It's awesome cooking with another foodie. We all did something.


Not everyone loved the spiced sweet potato mash, but I did.

Oh, and I had trouble finding cumin. And Elise said, "Aren't your spices alphabetized?" Which will make Laurie spit out whatever she is drinking if she is drinking something when she reads this. Because one of Laurie's favorite annoying (and endearing) things to do is rearrange my spices. And she was here not too long ago. Also, I found four empty bottles of cumin and one full bottle of cumin seeds.



Thank goodness for the spice grinder Laurie gave me.


I brought out some of the toys from my childhood - Gnip-Gnop (which I only recently realized is sort of Ping-Pong spelled backwards) and Two-Cushion Rebound. And that held their attention for like 3 minutes and then they were on the computer.

And Caroline christened the piano we moved from Laurie's that has sat mostly quiet since it got here.




Anyway - we do hope they made it to Novato safely - Elise give us a call or e-mail and let us know.

And we hope Nick will make one of these trips so we can play golf here.

What really cracks me up is how Elise is one of my favorite women ever and how similar she and another one of my favorite women are. That other would be Rachel. They read the same things, like a lot of the same music, have a very similar world view, and even dress alike.


We wanted to Internet Detective Carolyn Evans, just like the last time they were here, but did not manage to track her down. Maybe next time. And Carolyn if you somehow stumble across this post, get in touch.

Jeff was around too, but somehow managed to stay out of the pictures. Jake was with Pete.

I may have mentioned that I hate plumbing...

If I haven't, let me tell you now that I hate plumbing. I'm just not built for it. Although I do sometimes have a plumber's butt.

It's always tight spaces and wrenches that slip and things that drip and usually something awful gets in my mouth and I end up bleeding from somewhere. And I struggle with "righty-tighty lefty-loosey" when I am working upside down in the dark. It took most of a weekend to replace our kitchen faucet because I could barely fit through either door. I was tempted to Sawzall the divider. And I have replaced major components of each of our three toilets in the last few months. Most of time now I remember to keep my mouth closed.

Anyway, tonight, Rachel tells me that the washer is broken. This washer...
Well, not that washer, but one that looks just like it.

But so notice that it is a front load washer. This will matter a lot a little later in this story.

Anyway, it's broken. The water won't drain. And she checked on the internet and did everything they said to do and it still won't drain.

So I Googled it. And if you click here, you can too. "HE3 washer f-21 error"

And, after a few worthless pages, I found step by step instructions for what's probably the problem. I just need to unplug the washer, remove the front panel, and there staring me in the face will be a drain filter that I simply need to remove and clean. There was even a picture of how easy it would be...


"Rach!?" I yelled, not sure where she was.

"Yeah?" from upstairs.

"Did you take the clothes out, Hun?"

No. She did not. They weren't clothes either. They were 3 rugs that must have weighed 30 pounds each soaking wet. So I am soaked right off the bat just getting them out of the washer and in to the laundry tub. And the floor is soaked. Fortunately there were some dry dirty towels in the laundry room.

Not filthy towels, just, you know, gently used towels in need of a quick wash.

I do the smart thing, though, and get my Shop-Vac out to drain the water. And I am proud of myself for thinking of that. And I only thought of that after realizing there was no way I could siphon it because the laundry tub is higher than the bottom of the washer. So I use the Shop-Vac and it takes probably a half hour. I fill and empty it three times. That involves unplugging it, lugging it across the room trying not to spill, taking it out back and draining it. Because, you know, the 90 pounds of wet rugs were in the laundry tub.

Oh, and our rabbit chewed throught he power cord of the Shop-Vac way back when. And I cobbled it back together with wire nuts and electrical tape. And now sometimes you have to jiggle the cord to make it work. And that makes me uncomfortable standing in water on the laundry room floor.

OK, then I set about, still wet, mind you, removing the front panel screws - only guess what - they weren't screwdriver type screws they were nut-driver type screws. And I know exactly where my nut driver set is. It is spread about all over the house and also maybe in the car, and perhaps one out back where I assembled a patio table. Oh, and I think I lent one to a neighbor when we lived in Petaluma five years ago.

Oh, and on top of that, we had to get the pedestals. So, really, our washer looks more like this...
And those were a whole afternoon to put on and there is no 'f' in "weigh" I'm gonna be taking that apart - I'd need Jake's help and have to disconnect everything and move them out of the laundry room and I was just not up for that. So the three nut screws are about sort of in this metal trench. So I can't just prop up the washer on a wood block like the directions from the internet said. I need some sort of tool with very narrow parameters to fit in that little groove you see in the picture.

I manage to find a socket set. And it barely fits. I have like a centimeter of play, but only on the two outside screws. So I can noodle the side screws like one click at a time on the ratchet wrench.

Click...click...click...

"How's it going in there, Hun?"

Click...click...

"Fine, Shoog."

Click...click...click...

It will take like an hour each and I won't even be able to do the middle screw.

And I get frustrated and go for a walk.

OK, I went and took a dump.

That's where I do some of my best thinking and I had to go.

So like ten minutes I'm gone.

OK, like 15 minutes. And Rachel knocks on the door and says, "Thanks! It's working."

This gave me pause. All I had done was drain the water and look for a socket set. If what was wrong with the washer was what the internet told me was wrong with the washer, then I still had several steps to go yet before the washer would be fixed.

And even then, it still might not be fixed because, like I said, I hate plumbing. And I tend to not be very good at things I hate.

"But honey," I called back to her, "I wasn't done yet."

I tried to be optimistic. Maybe I had suffered enough. Maybe the Plumbing Gods took pity on me and something I did with the Shop-Vac did the trick. But I would have to wait 20 more minutes for the cycle Rachel ran to finish.

As it turned out, we didn't have to wait quite that long. The "F-21" error code showed up after only maybe 15 minutes. And I am thinking "F-21" must mean the odds are 2 to 1 that you are pretty much F'd.

So now I'm a little angry. And I open the washer door (and this is where it being a front load washer matters) and water comes pouring out. And in the split second it took me to realize that water was pouring out and shut the door, I found myself once again standing in an inch or so of water.

And so now I am really angry and I yell (because she was somewhere else again), "I wish you hadn't done that!!! Now the thing is filled up even more passed the window and I can't even open the door or find the flip-floppin' tools I need to get the panel off and the stupid pedestal is in the way and..." I trailed off as she drew near.

Only I didn't say "flip floppin'."

"And now I'm gonna have to suck the water out all over again but only more of it," I said calmly, quietly, politely even.

And she stood in the doorway and stared at me all flustered and soaking wet in a puddle and said, "I'm sorry. Does yelling at me make you feel any better about it?"

And honestly, it did a little.

"I wasn't yelling at you," I fibbed a little, "I just wanted you to know what happened and what I'm dealing with here and you were in the other room and..." I trailed off again.

And I added, "But you saying you are sorry does make me feel better, thank you."

And then we set about fixing the washer together.

This time it took five trips with the Shop-Vac.

Rachel stood on higher ground and jiggled the cord. And she didn't even say anything like, "You suck," but I imagine she thought it.

And when it was done and drained again, I set about looking anew in many of the same places for some tool, any tool, that could be employed to get the front panel off. I again considered the Sawzall.

And then on my third trip to the work bench, I saw our trusty DeWalt cordless drill with the screwdriver attachment on the end. And I thought, "No, it couldn't be this easy, could it?" I removed the screwdriver bit from the bit holder, took the drill downstairs and Halle-f-in-lujah, the thing fit- the bit holder was the exact right size.

And it was even charged!

The Plumbing Gods had made great sport of me enough for one day, I guess.

And also the thing not to miss here is that things generally go better when we do them together.

OK, so we got the panel off in like seconds, and the rest was realatively painless.

No more f-bombs.

And in addition to a good ten ounces of foul smelling blackish gunk the likes of which I had never seen and hope never to see again, here are some of the various and sundry things we found in the drain filter...

Yes, that is a "precision" screw driver.

And yes, that is an entire ball point pen in pieces, most of a pencil, some thread, several pieces of gum, a gum pack wrapper, some thread, a little pewter heart I gave Rachel long ago, nearly a buck in change, a handful of unidentifiable things, and as near as I can tell, a blister pack allergy capsule that held up remarkably well. Rachel took the filter upstairs to be washed while I investigated further.

I was all set to have a stern talk with Jake about emptying his pockets before laundry is done. But then I discovered the real culprit. Surprisingly, the washer ran fine with all of that stuff. But there was something else. Something soggy had gotten past the filter and was blocking the impeller causing the pump to fail. That rusted out screwdriver came in handy for fishing the thing out of the impeller. That grey patch you see is a suede Ray-Bans lens cloth.

And, OK, so I'm the only one with a pair of Ray-Bans. So in the end, I am wet, exhausted, and bleeding a little from one of my fingers, but feeling pretty good still because at least I didn't get anything awful in my mouth and the washer was probalby fixed. But I was also kind of upset to learn that I had pretty much brought all of this upon myself. And honestly, for a second, I considered hiding it. Just stash it in my pocket and no one would be the wiser. Just for a second I considered that.

OK, like maybe ten seconds. And aside from it just being wrong to lie, I was pretty sure that if I did, something awful would end up in my mouth over the course of re-assembling the washer.

Then Rachel appeared in the doorway again.

"Did you get it out?"

"Yes, Hun."

"What was it?"

"Well, I was all set to yell at Jake. But this lens cloth was the real culprit. So I'll yell at myself for a while and you talk to Jake about emptying his pockets."

Now, I have had a few washers over the years. But I have never gone through anything like this before. But I have to figure it happens to everyone. And all of you, and especially those of you with kids, will be very surprised at what you find if you ever check the drain filter of your own washer.

Remember to keep your mouth closed if you ever do.

1-800-BIG-MACS

It's up and running. You have to hit 1 a few times to get to the application I designed and built. A smart guy named Wayne built the part that takes the information I get from the caller and looks up the nutrition facts that I read back. And a great guy named Michael has been a top notch project manager.

You can ask for any McDonald's menu item. Some things won't be there - like Shamrock Shakes are out of season, and some things are only in limited markets. But it's pretty neat, I think.

There's also a store locator/phone number lookup application, but that one was pretty ho-hum. Still, you know, if you want to find the nearest McDonald's, now you can. It's tough in places like Los Angeles and Chicago where there are literally hundreds of locations, but it does a pretty good job of it for most locations.

This is, by far, the most widely advertised phone number one of my systems has answered. The number is on every bag, cup, and wrapper.

I'm heading back out to HQ later this month to work on a design for adding speech recognition to the rest of the phone tree.

The weirdest thing to me about their HQ is that from the outside, and from the inside, for the most part, it looks like any other big corporate headquarters on a beautiful campus with lots of lawns and trees...only right in the middle there's a McDonald's in the building. Like you're walking along, cube after cube, and offices and conference rooms and printer stations and a McDonald's and then more cubes and restrooms and offices and... Wait, was that really a whole McDondald's there? It's kind of surreal.

Say it isn't so Paula Abdul!

In the headlines - the HEADLINES, you know with stories of a mass shooting/suicide at a PA health club and Bill Clinton's trip to free two journalists from North Korea and three "hikers" in Iraq who strayed in to Iran and were captured possibly being charged with spying (really? Who goes hiking in Iraq?) - I read:

Paula Abdul To Leave
American Idol After 8 Years

And I can only muster a mutter to myself, "Holy crap, that awful show has been on for eight years?"