Misplaced

The hate
Prerequisites substantiate
The method to
What those feel now
Is out of place
And just passed down
By those who suffered
And now gone
Without a trace.

The blame
Misdirected without shame
Beliefs today
Are out of place
And those who knew
Feel no disgrace
Are now the victims
But remain
And are not few
Yet oft eschewed.

Uh Huh, Uh Huh, I Work Out!

But only so I can keep drinking bourbon.

I mean, I don’t live in New Jersey.  I don’t need to look like a big ripply and tanned turd to fit in.  But I do need a reasonably healthy BMI and the body strength to handle maintenance and landscaping duties around the house.  And so I do work out, with a simple chin-up bar and some weights.

But then Liz arranged to buy a used machine from a colleague–one of those complicated torture devices with the cables and pulleys–on the cheap.  I’ve always been hesitant to use those things, as I’m under the assumption that isolation exercises don’t replicate a natural range of motion and so at best are minimally effective, and at worst physically damaging.  Mostly though, they’re expensive, so now with the cost variable removed, I was willing to try.

So off we went to this dude’s house which he was selling and was completely devoid of any furniture save this machine he didn’t have room for anymore.  And as the house was no longer occupied, the dust had begun to accumulate.  And the lubricant had inevitably leaked out of the machine.  It was gross and unwieldy.

I had hoped that we could selectively disassemble the thing into manageable chucks that fit into the back of the CR-V.  In so doing, however, the cables tangled, and when we got back home the thing was a giant knot of cable and steel.  We then threw it into the front lawn and sprayed it off.

Having lost patience with it for the day, it was cast into the basement, where it lay waiting for reassembly.  But then we went on vacation.

Upon returning, I quickly grew tired of the mess and so began putting it back together.  This proved to be no easy feat, as since the device was partially assembled, the instructions could not be sequentially followed.  So I had to resort to deduction, and the instructions sucked anyway.  And did I mention the thing was gross?

But its full assembly was inevitable.

Weider 9300 Pro

It seems to work okay.  A point of confusion was the pulley system that changes the weight resistance.  Depending on which cable is pulled, a single plate can have 4 different poundages.  I’m not terribly interested in quantifying my workout to that extent, but it did cause some initial confusion regarding my abilities and why my musculature seemed so wildly disparate.

And Liz and I can work out together now.  That seems minor, but it’s far more motivating to be suffering alongside someone than alone.  Now, when the weather ever decides to change into Spring, we’ll be properly conditioned for the upcoming gardening installations.

–Simon

A Lubbock County Almanac (April 17, 1995)

It is monday and we have no school because yesterday was Easter.

It is very windy So windy that there is a tornato watch on TV.  So windy that the tip of my pen gets dirty and if I dont write fast it will all cover with dirt and my pen will go out.  A perfect day for a kite.

–Simon

Command Center

About this time a year ago, I lamented my lack of office space, and while making due with the old dinner table in the basement, I prophesied my future workstation.  And like all prophesies I make regarding things I’m resolved to do, it came true.  Imagine that!

Desk space gets allocated quickly, but my primary irritation over the years has been the trend towards smaller and more mobile technology.  That’s cool and all, but there are ergonomic limits–a point at which a device is too small for a human to use comfortably.  Laptops struggle with this.

But I’m all about maximizing productivity, rather than convenience, so I don’t want a tiny laptop.  I want a big machine with multiple monitors.  I want a permanent station for my computers, but without the restrictions of a desktop.  Basically, I have my own specific preferences and nothing was accommodating them to my satisfaction.

And I was sharing the table with the kid, and the growing mess directly correlated with my growing irritation, and when the glitter made an appearance (resulting in my workstation appearing as if someone had taken a 12-gauge to Tinkerbell), I had had it.  I started looking for desks.

My goal was to convert the far corner of the basement into a work area.  As of late, it had become a temporary trash heap of cardboard boxes awaiting proper disposal upon the city’s annual unlimited trash pickup event.  So, there wasn’t any competing demand for the space.  With pocket knife in hand, I reduced the mess to a pile, vacuumed the space, measured some options, and began researching.

Sadly, the oak executive desk was beyond my price range.  But more surprising was the lack of mere available options.  I wanted a large L-shaped desk, so that I could load it up with my personal/company computer and peripherals, but apparently no one else had that idea in mind.  I searched Amazon and Office Space with limited success.  Then Liz suggested IKEA.

IKEA, despite its reputation, has surprisingly sturdy furniture.  Unlike its competitors’ products for the given niche, IKEA doesn’t bow and break within the first couple years.  And besides their quality, their stores are just plain exciting to visit.  When we do, I suddenly feel the need to rent a shitty New York apartment and maximize its function for the tiny space.

So after some perusing, I bought two generic desk/shelves.  And after an evening of assembly, I had the L-shaped desk area that I wanted.

It’s minimalist, granted, but fits the unfinished basement theme.  More importantly, I haven’t had a desk in 7 years, and can finally sit down to an actual workstation–my command center.  Damn that feels good.

–Simon

 

Late

The night encroaches, bringing dark
Leaving one to ponder life
For when He comes to bring the knife
One might stop to ponder, yes
For when the light cannot be seen
People think what could have been.

And in the end, repentance, yes
Always easy in the end
Yet life is taxing to defend
For when the time has caught the Man
Man stares up into the sky
Yet always fails to grasp the why.