September 2002 Archives

It's Monday night. I'm wiped.

Katy and I started a new volleyball league tonight, and instead of playing the advertised "one practice match" we ended up playing nonstop for almost two hours. I think it will be a fun league but they have some interesting rules. The strangest one is "no overhand serves." I haven't served underhand since church camp!

Anyway, I'm going to bed. I promise I will get some camping stories up in the next few days. For the time being, be content knowing that we had a great time.

(Had I mentioned that my beloved Angels are in the playoffs?!? Postseason glory, here we come!)

Faithful readers:

There will be no updates to this weblog for a few days as I am going camping. Rest assured, however, that upon my return I will fill these pages with witty and clever tales of my journeys, in addition to the much-anticipated Maryland Blue Crab Feast writeup.

That is all.

Katy and I watched "John Q" last night. I'm not sure whether I can recommend it or not.

The premise of the movie is that a father takes over a hospital emergency room, creating a hostage situation, to get the hospital to put his son on the donor list for a new heart. Katy and I watched this movie with a special kind of horror reserved for the parents of small children.

Last night my heart was racing through most of the second half of the picture. But tonight I'm a little disappointed in the film. It basically played on the fears of parents for its emotional strength, and the characters were very much stereotypes: The poor but noble man, pushed to the limits. The heartless hospital executive. The famous heart surgeon. The politically motivated police chief.

Tonight I can see them for what they are. But last night I was stressing out watching this film. My advice: If you want to ride an emotional rollercoaster, hey, check it out. But if you resent people reaching in and pulling on your heartstrings in the most obvious of ways, well, don't.

Did you know that rusted cast iron cookware can be recovered? Neither did I.

Last summer I bought a cast iron grill to use on top of our campstove. As I had never used cast iron before, when I got home I scrubbed it clean.

Silly me. It rusted. I darn near threw it out.

But it turns out you can scrub the rust off and reseason it with oil. So I did just that, tonight. Hopefully when I cook a steak on it this weekend it doesn't kill us.

Ok, so yesterday we took "the back way" home from Big Bear. Which means we were on the north side of the San Gabriel Mountains, and once again driving through small towns in the middle of nowhere - not unlike last weekend's exercise on California 166.

One thing I noticed - houses are cheap (by southern California standards, anyway) in Victorville. I saw many new housing tracts advertising "3-5 bedroom homes, from the low $80,000s." Wow.

Anyway, one of the little towns we rolled through (while observing posted speed limits - don't want to attract unnecessary attention from the local constabulary) was the misnamed Apple Valley. Number one, the only apples in Apple Valley are in the produce section at the Stater Brothers (more on that later). And number two, if you define "valley" as "a low place between mountains," which I think is pretty acceptable, then, yes, it is a valley - but it's an awfully flat, wide, valley. Like twenty or thirty miles across. I suppose "Tumbleweed Flats," while a more accurate description, would have depressed real estate values even further.

We were sitting at a stoplight next to the aforementioned Stater Brothers when a strange moment from the past flashed out at me.

(We now begin today's navel-gazing.)

My first job upon graduation from college was at a small magnetics engineering company. Mostly we designed and built custom transformers, but the owners of the company also held a patent for a money-saving lighting controller. The design was okay in theory, but not in practice. (I realize that at least a few engineers read this but I'm going to forego technical explanations. Let's just leave it at that.) As such, they had trouble selling very many of them - but one customer was (you guessed it) the Stater Brothers grocery chain. As grocery stores are a notoriously low-profit operation, I think they were willing to give it a shot.

So, sometime in 1989 or 1990 I went to the Apple Valley Stater Brothers store - at 5:00 in the morning, when I could turn out the lights for a while - to swap out a circuit board and do some general maintenance. And suddenly, I found myself there again - twelve years later. My life now is so completely different it's hard to figure out where to draw a line to connect 1989 Brad and 2002 Brad.

The Talking Heads had it right - "And you may ask yourself - how did I get here?" It's strange how your path in life seems to be made up of incremental steps - each one making sense in the context of your current situation, but each one taking you toward places you had no idea you were heading.

Weird, isn't it?

Today's title is courtesy of Cameron, who wanted to "push some buttons." He was most pleased with the "lots of z's."

We are still up in Big Bear, starting to pack up to go home. Pandemonium is about to break out as we start cleaning up the cabin and packing up our respective vehicles.

(Cameron wants another turn. Here we go: lmfdop4di0m9ixi9x4mix ximxnmr0iuu3kksaakka)

I'm so indulgent.

Friday night we had a big crab feast. Katy's mom grew up on the Chesapeake Bay, where the Maryland blue crab is the king of seafood - and she has taught us the way of the Blue Crab. I took some pictures and will post them, along with the whole story, when I get them out of the camera and into the computer.

One other thing - yesterday Angels playoff tickets went on sale. In spite of my Devotion and Purity I was unable to get through on the computer or phone, and will be watching on the television along with everybody else. Oh well.

My boss is the head of IT in addition to being the head of Engineering. This is a good thing, because he gets cool geek toys to play with. Sometimes his minions (that would be me) get to play too!

I am sitting in the passenger seat of our mid-size SUV typing away on a laptop that he loaned me right now. Big deal, you say - lots of folks have laptops, and almost all of them have Notepad (my text editor of choice) or some other document-creation tool. Oh, but this is different, my friend. I am making this entry directly onto the blogger.com website.

That's right, me hearties (Oops, yesterday was "talk like a pirate day." Arrgh, I'm a day late. Shiver me timbers!) I'm online, via Sprint's new PCS Internet access service. It's pretty cool, let me tell you. And even useful, if you can believe that.

For instance, we got caught in traffic for a bit. I was able to get online and check my favorite live traffic web site to see if the backup was a local one or a big thing we needed to get off the freeway to get around.

I am doing my best to keep the drool off the keyboard.

I took last Thursday and Friday off so we could take a family camping trip - we figured that waiting until after Labor Day would thin the crowds somewhat - but it was not so much a camping trip as a taste of the nomadic lifestyle.

(I should warn you that this will likely be a fairly long entry.)

Thursday we left for Montana D'Oro State Park and the associated campground after picking the kids up from preschool. The back of the family SUV was packed to the roof with food, camp gear, firewood, water (no piped water at Montana D'Oro) and assorted accoutrement. The roof of the vehicle held a car-top carrier stuffed with luggage and sleeping bags, and the tent was bungee corded to the front of that. We were loaded.

We pulled into the campground at about 4:45 and did a quick loop to pick a site. While the state park is quite striking, the campground is no great shakes - but we settled on a spot that seemed to be pretty far from the "party" looking types and close to a bathroom. As we got out of the car we noticed that while the campground itself was mostly clear of vegetation, the hillside surrounding it was liberally sprinkled with poison oak. Nice. "Kids, don't touch any plants without asking mommy or daddy first..."

We set up camp and I started working on the fire. It was fairly cold already, and the sun was still up - somewhere behind that marine layer of clouds, anyway. Claire and Cam were both starting to sniffle pretty heartily, and during dinner Claire made it known that she really just wanted to go to bed. Katy and I exchanged parental glances, and she hustled them off to the tent - it was still light enough out for me to read without a lantern, and both kids wanted to be in bed. Not a good sign.

Friday morning dawned cold and cheerless. I chopped up some more wood to get some small pieces to start another fire and Katy lamented our lack of really warm clothes for the kids. Like warm coats, hats, and mittens.

(Let me just point out that the work of chopping big pieces of wood into little pieces of wood seems to warm you up enough that you no longer really need a campfire.)

Claire had improved overnight but Katy began to wonder out loud if we should seek a warmer climate. Both the kids had little icicle fingers and cold cheeks in spite of their statements that they were "not cold!" In the end we decided to call our friends that were coming up to meet us to see what kind of warm clothes they might be able to bring. They were also cold-weather gear challenged, and so they agreed we should instead meet them at the campground we had camped at recently, on Mt. Pinos in northern Los Angeles county.

So we broke camp, and I packed the car for the second time in two days. We had burned a little firewood so I had a little more room to work with, but not much. I was looking forward to the opportunity to burn the rest, and eat some of the food, so I would have a little more space in the back.

We had left our maps sitting on the dining room table - a classic blunder - and so ended up taking the Safe Route, rather than the direct route, to Mt. Pinos and our new campground. We finally arrived after four hours of travel, found our friends and the campsite they had picked, and once again started setting up camp. The only drawback here was a forest-wide ban on campfires - even in developed campsites. It looked like I would be bringing all that wood right back home.

I should mention that the drive across to I-5 on California 166 was really pretty - classic rolling hills dotted with coastal oaks, giving way to cattle ranches, farms, and small towns that reminded me of similar places in Oklahoma, where I grew up. (I found myself humming the theme to "The Magnificent Seven" as we drove along.) It's worth checking out if you are looking for a nice drive and you aren't in a big hurry to get somewhere. (I know - fat chance of that.)

Well, anyway, we got things set up and settled in to enjoy the remaining two days of our trip. The kids were playing nicely and we got a little time to sit and have an adult beverage and shoot the breeze. After dinner we all started making noises about turning in - nobody really wanted to sit around an empty fire pit (or even a propane lantern) and chat. We got the kids to bed and everybody went to sleep.

A few hours later, I woke up to Claire coughing like a seal pup - all congested and full of cold. It was around midnight, and at that moment I knew I would be packing the car for the third time in three days soon enough.

It was nice to get home early enough to get things unpacked and cleaned up before having to rush off to work tomorrow, and the kids both told us they had fun camping - but it was not one of our more successful trips. Funny thing, though, is it's got me psyched up for next camping trip - with my friend Doug to Kings Canyon in a couple weeks.

Just ran across this article on ESPN.com, regarding being an Angels fan.

It's true, what he says.

(I'll try to get back to non-sports oriented coverage soon.)

Strangest thing happened last night. I went to the Angels-A's game with an old buddy from college, but that old laid-back Orange County vibe was nowhere to be found.

It's been a long time since the Angels played any meaningful games in September, and it was pretty cool to be there for one last night. It was a great game - a 2-1 pitcher's duel with some sparkling defensive plays and clutch strikeouts. Sadly, the Angels lost, but what a great game.

The best part was the crowd.

Southern California is a magnet for people from all over the country - heck, the world. And when they get here, they don't give up their old sports loyalties. I've been to several Yankees-Angels at the Big A, and the crowds get pretty boisterous - cheering for the good old Bronx Bombers. It's a strange thing, wondering if you're going to get beat up for supporting the home team.

I must admit, I've never been to a playoff game - but I think the phrase "playoff atmosphere" describes the situation last night. The crowd was in it from the first inning - cheering on a two-strike count, booing the pickoff throws, getting loud when the Angels threatened, throwing back A's home run balls, questioning the dubious lineage of Oakland relief pitchers as they trotted by on their way to the mound. But here's the coolest thing - and it started with an A's rally. In the 6th inning the A's had the bases loaded with nobody out. Things did not look good for my Angels. A small contingent of A's fans started chanting "Let's Go Oakland."

Under normal circumstances at the Big A, this sort of thing would go completely unnoticed. But last night I witnessed something new: Assertive Angels Fans. "Not in my house!" seemed to sweep through the crowd. Two new chants rose up out of the home-team fans - a chorus of "Shut Up!" and the more polite (but still assertive) "Let's Go Angels!" drowned out the cursed A's fans. Wow. Never thought I'd see (or hear) that at polite, conservative Anaheim Stadium.

Two strikeouts and a lazy fly ball later, the A's half of the sixth ended, leaving them empty-handed. Woo Hoo! (I am a little hoarse today.)

And now - a few observations:

1. If you are old enough to buy a beer, you are too old to bring a mitt to the ballpark. By about 8 years. Give me a break.

2. If you snatch a foul ball away from a little kid you are going to hell so fast you'll pass the guy who shot the Pope on the way down.

3. I totally get the whole "throw the visiting team's home run balls back" thing. But if I ever catch one I'm keeping it for Cameron, I don't care who hit the damn thing.

Ok. Just surfed over to the homepage of my former web hosting provider Binary Blocks. Seems the company that was actually running their hardware has a bounty out on the head of Binary Blocks' founder and president. Go check it out - it reads like an old "Wanted" poster.

It wouldn't be nearly as funny if I hadn't been able to reverse the charges to my credit card for their services...

This weekend we took the kids to a theatrical production of Pinocchio. It was fun - which means, of course, that the kids liked it and sat through the whole thing. Last week we checked out the Disney book from the library so they would be familiar with the story - funny thing, that Jiminy Cricket guy doesn't seem to show up in non-Disney versions of the story.

Claire starts her first dance class tomorrow, and today she and Katy went out to get her some tap shoes. I had no idea that such things were available at Payless, but my value-minded nature is pleased that Katy did. To say that Claire was happy with her new shoes is to grossly understate the situation. (Heck, Cam tried them on too - anything to make a little extra noise.) Anyway, Claire is really excited about her class.

At one point today all four of us were playing with Hot Wheels cars on the entryway tile. It was definitely a family moment.

Another strange thing happened today. I had the urge to sit on the couch and watch football. I never watch football. I blame my friend Dean, who roped me into playing in his fantasy football league. (I won today, in spite of my lamebrain roster management.)

Ok, we seem to be getting back to normal around here. To cap off this week's pizza discussion, and show my giving nature, I offer you this fine pizza recipe of my own invention:

This is a sauceless, thin-crust pizza that doesn't use mozzarella cheese - that alone may offend purists, but I think it's pretty tasty. You'll need 5 or 6 Roma tomatoes, 1 onion, some garlic (I use 5 or 6 cloves, but YMMV), some sun-dried tomatoes (4 or 5 is plenty), fresh basil, pepper jack cheese, and a little olive oil - in addition to pizza dough (of course). Forgive me for not having exact times and measures here, this really is something that I made up.

Thinly slice the onion. Mince the garlic. Saute them together in olive oil over low heat until the onions are nice and soft. Set them aside to cool.

Cut the sun-dried tomatoes into small pieces. Cut the basil leaves into slivers - kitchen scissors are handy for this. Thinly slice the tomatoes - 1/4" or thinner is great. Grate as much cheese as you would like to have on your pizza.

Roll out the dough and put it on a baking pan. Arrange the tomato slices on the dough in a single layer, then cover with the cheese. Sprinkle the onion and garlic mixture, sun-dried tomatoes, and basil on top. Put the pizza in an oven preheated to 500 degrees F for 20-25 minutes, or until the cheese is starting to brown a little.

Yum.

Well, we're back to the IVWNet web address for the time being. Turns out Binary Blocks' too-good-to-be-true web hosting deal was, well, you figure it out. Apparently, if you only charge $25/year for web hosting, you end up three or four months behind on your bills. Then the people who run your servers get sick of you and pull the plug.

So, for the time being www.flyingw.org will once again forward to my ISP-provided web space. Meanwhile, I'll be trying to get my money back* and looking for a new hosting provider. (Any input on the latter is welcome. Heck, input on the former is welcome too.)

*Yes, I realize it's not likely. But it's worth a shot.

UPDATE:

If you're reading this, then the DNS changes have propagated through the Internet and you are at the new home of flyingw.org. I'm now hosted by Mike's Beverage-Based Barter Hosting Services. He hosts me, I give him beer. It's not a bad system, really.

Holy Smokes! I just found a mistake in my pizza dough spreadsheets! It doesn't change the material facts, but the price of recipe 2 went down considerably - it's now $1.14 supermarket, $1.42 national.

Although Mike has made this out to be a debate, I prefer to think of it as a fact-gathering exercise. But since he wants badly to declare victory, ok, Mike, you "win." (No homemade pizza for you.)

Warning: Not in the mood for "kids do the darndest things" stories? You should probably come back tomorrow.

Cameron said and did some pretty funny stuff this weekend.

After much belt-pulling, tethering, and point-loading we managed to get Cameron's new booster seat installed in the car Saturday evening. He was pretty excited about going for a ride in it on Sunday. He told us "It's going to be pretty hot tomorrow. I'd better bring some water."

He wanted very badly to use the cupholder on his new seat.

We were looking for a good hot-weather family activity today (100-plus to start September, how do you like that?) and settled on bowling. The kids enjoy it and Katy and I both like "gutterless" bowling on the kids' lanes.

At one point Cameron decided he wanted to try a shot again and started down the lane after his ball. Poor guy - it really was a classic cartoon-style slipped-on-a-banana-peel stunt. He was flat on his back before I could even warn him that they oil the lanes.

(To think that some people say physical comedy is dead. It took all my strength not to laugh.)

Anyway, he wasn't hurt but it did surprise him, and he was pretty upset initially. Katy took him to walk around for a bit to settle him down. After he had calmed down, he told her "It's really slippery there, Mom. You can't go there!"

The bonus for Cam: While he was gone, I picked up the spare for him.

To make an incredibly delicious grilled ham and cheese sandwich, try my personal secret ingredient - horseradish. Use sparingly - a little goes a long way.

The other day at work Mike mentioned that Trader Joe's sells ready-to-bake pizza crusts, a la Boboli uncooked pizza dough balls for $0.99. It was widely postulated that you couldn't make pizza dough from scratch for that price.

I was skeptical.

So I cracked out my cookbooks and found a couple pizza dough recipies - one from the New Basics that I use all the time, and one from a bread baking book, just for the sake of comparison. Here are the ingredient lists:

New Basics:
1 c. water, 1 package yeast, 2 T olive oil, 1/2 t salt, 2 1/2 - 3 c flour
Makes 1 crust

Bread Book:
2 1/2 c water, 2 packages yeast, 2 t salt, 1 T sugar, 2 T olive oil, 5 1/2 - 6 1/2 c flour
Makes 2 crusts

I got online and priced out ingredients at albertsons.com - choosing a supermarket brand and national brand item for each ingredient, and figured out how much each recipe would cost. I based pricing on 10 lb bags of flour and sugar, 17 oz bottles of extra-virgin olive oil, 26 oz packages of iodized salt, 1 gallon of drinking water, and 3-packs of yeast.

I was surprised to find that recipe 1 costs between $1.21/crust (supermarket) and $1.54/crust (national brand). Recipe 2 blows by the $0.99 mark at $1.74/crust $1.14/crust (supermarket) and $2.24/crust $1.42/crust (national brand). The deal-breaker is the yeast - a three-pack costs $2.19 to $2.39 - or $0.73 to $0.80 a pack. That doesn't leave much room for other ingredients with a $0.99 price cap. (I suppose I could have priced it with bulk yeast, but I use the packages myself.)

However, I typically double the New Basics recipe and divide it into three crusts. That works out to $0.81/crust for the supermarket brand products - which is, of course, what I use. (I am value minded.) So, depending on how you like your crusts, you can get in for less than $0.99 per.

A non-financial angle - if you buy premade crusts you will miss out on the visceral pleasure of kneading your own dough. I really like the silky feel and texture of fresh pizza dough when you start kneading it. (Ask Katy about it sometime - I think it worries her a little.) Is it really worth 18 cents to give that up?

I suppose in the end the question of "which is a better value" depends on external factors, primarily the opportunity cost associated with other uses of your time.

Anyway, If you are skeptical of my numbers, well, do your own research then. Or ask me nicely and I'll show you my spreadsheets.

[Edited 03 Sep 2002 - Corrected recipe 2 pricing and information about Trader Joe's pizza dough]