N

NABLOPOMO. November is OVER. To celebrate, a haiku (or two):
Oh, NABLOPOMO
I knew I would hate you so
Mediocrity

One lame post per day
November kicked my lame ass
NABLOPOMO, done.

November was cool;
Posted every day all month,
Drove off all readers.

M*

Melba. Melba kicks ass. I met her at my good friend Jon's wedding reception. That night, I first embarrassed myself trying to give a toast, then tried to remedy that with alcohol, then put on a whiteboy can't dance exhibition on the dance floor. She somehow found that appealing, and when we left the reception for an after party at Lyon's Pub (no relation), she molested me at the bar. I couldn't fend her off. Four months later she let me shack up with her and now we're living happily ever after. Well, happily once we solved the whole I'm an idiot thing. Or... sorta at least made a move toward solving that little issue. Kinda.Melba kicks ass. I dig her muchly.

*Yes, I know I already did M. This NABLOPOMO thing is almost over - cut me some slack, people.

Some people just can't be happy.

I've been working with some interesting people lately. My cow-orkers and I have put in some hard work and long hours for them, yet they aren't happy. They have these great tools that we work hard to give them, and instead of being happy or even just merely satisfied, they nitpick until they can find some small detail to latch onto and turn it into something to complain about.

ODANABLOPOMOP*

After yesterday's glowing post about peas, this post takes another traditional turn in NABLOPOMO style.

I had a relaxed day at work today. Lunch was good:then the company sponsored, keg-supplemented happy hour:and then an excellent dinner of pork chops expertly prepared by Melba. Add in a screening of American Gangster supplemented by a White Russian or two (or four) and it turned out to be an excellent Tuesday.

*Obligatory Drunk Ass NABLOPOMO Post

Tired, etc.

Apologies for another weak-ass post, but I've had another long day at work after a sub-optimal night of sleep. Not only that, but my computer's battery is almost drained so I need to keep this short.

One bright spot of my day was a free lunch at McCabe's courtesy of my boss. I really do deeply dig McCabe's fish and chips, which happens include the best damn peas I've ever tasted in my life. Who knew a Brit pub could make such badass peas? Mmm... peas.

The other bright spot of my day was a little free time to start working on a new car quiz using some photos I took at the auto show yesterday. I've got a bunch of photos in Flickr that I need to narrow down to about 50 for the quiz.

And as a parting shot, here's part of what I worked on today.That's a nice rack, ain't it?

LA Auto Show

My good friend J accompanied Melba and I to the LA Auto Show today. They deserve some sort of award, since I'm about the worst kind of car geek you'd ever want to have to follow around every square inch of the LA Convention Center. Melba had no idea what she was in for:
J has let me drag her around the show before, so knew what she was in for and made the best of it by getting her picture taken at every free photo booth at the show:
Both of them were amazingly patient with me.

OWANABLOPOMOP*

Melba and I left the friendly confines of Surprise this afternoon, thinking we might beat the holiday return traffic and catch a concert in Anaheim. We made it to the show, but not without getting lodged in middle-of-nowhere bumper to bumper traffic outside of Palm Springs.

We're currently camped out on a couple of barstools at the House Of Blues in Anaheim, waiting to see Travis. I gotta say, unless you pay for the real seats, the sightlines in this place suck ass. The opening band was little more than a nearby rumor, for all we saw. Oh well, Melba won the tickets, so we're not out too much.

Back to regularly scheduled posting tomorrow.

*Obligatory Weak Ass NABLOPOMO Post

M

Mom. This post is about nothin' but Mom. Today was Mom's birthday (observed). Mom is almost singlehandedly responsible for the good aspects of who I am, so it's only fair that she gets a post of her own (and a picture with Hank).One thing that amazes me about mom is her resilience. Her parents are gone, her three brothers are all gone, her first husband was abusive, her second husband died after only three years of marriage, and I did everything I could to get her to have a heart attack when I was a teenager.

Despite my attempts, she survived and even though she was going through an incredibly rough time herself, she managed to raise a kid who turned out pretty damn well in the end (if I do say so myself). I don't thank her enough for the things she does and has done for me over the years. She's awesome, and I'm happy to see that she's found happiness for herself living in Arizona with Hank.

Here's to you, mom.

L

Lyon. When I was a kid in grade school, I was a popular bully target. I had three things going against me: I was taller than everyone, I had an army style buzz haircut, and my last name. I used to hate my name back then - I wasn't even a fan of Steve, much less Lyon, which never even got spelled right half the time. But I kinda like the name now, and am proud of it. Unique without being weird, and I can even put a faux French accent on it if I want to sound like a douchebag.

Lyon, France

Short post tonight - don't want to be too antisocial while digesting mom's excellent Thanksgiving dinner. This year, Thanksgiving also happens to be mom's birthday. Happy birthday, ma! I hope everyone of my delightful readers had a good holiday.

L

Long, Late day. Work was a bit rougher than usual today. In early, plus strange gig, plus late finish equals me, tired.

I will expound on the letter L tomorrow.

Holiday Drive.

Along the same lines as last night's post, the holidays usually afford me the opportunity to get out on the open road and drive. This Thanksgiving, Melba and I will be headed to Surprise, Arizona to gorge on the usual foods and hang out with family.A few years ago, I drove to Phoenix for Thanksgiving with my good friends Kate and Mark. We rented a minivan and left LA at about 4 pm the day before Thanksgiving, which just happens to be the same time everyone leaves LA. the drive from LA to Phoenix usually takes about 6 hours, but traffic was so craptastic we didn't even make it as far as Riverside in that time. Total trip time that year was over 10 hours.Now, whenever I head to Phoenix for the holidays I shoot for a departure time between midnight and 3 am. Traffic is nonexistent, speed traps are rare, and I enjoy driving through the desert late at night. Last time I went, I made great time and arrived in a shade over 5 hours. Granted, that was my old car and I was traveling at some highly illegal speeds...

Fog.

Ah yes... I'm pushin' my luck, starting the day's blog post at 11:50 pm, but I just got back from a cool drive around the neighborhood. See, its been foggy here lately, and while I don't much enjoy the lack of sunshine, I muchly enjoy a foggy late night drive now and then.The fog in LA can be fickle - tonight it was thick in Venice and Santa Monica, perfectly clear to the moon and the stars just up the road in Pacific Palisades.

There's something relaxing and quiet about a foggy night.

Catalina wrapup

The view of a foggy Avalon morning from our hotel room patio...
Melba and I got up at the crack of nine this morning and again tore up the breakfast offerings at the hotel
before hoofin' it down to the dock to pick up our 11am ferry back to Long Beach.
Goodbye, Avalon. It was fun.

Catalina, Day 2

Melba and I got up at the crack of eleven this morning, just in time to catch the dregs of the continental breakfast at the hotel.
We then headed over to the one activity that must be done on any visit to Catalina: miniature golf.I managed to score a 59, and Melba did almost as well.
After golf, we rented a couple of bicycles and pedaled up* to the Wrigley Monument.
After the great ride back down the hill** from the monument, we stopped by the Casino for pictures.
After returning the bikes, we adjourned to a handy bar featuring beer and nachos.

Two years ago today, I visited Minneapolis and took Melba out for our first date. We'll be celebrating with sushi later tonight.

*Holy hills, Batman. Got a great workout.
**Hauled ass down that hill, passed a surprised family on a golf cart.

Interruption.

I interrupt the ever-so-thrilling encyclopedia of moi with a report of this weekend's fun. Melba and I left town for a weekend on Catalina Island. Here's Melba just before we got on the boat:
Avalon has a restaurant and a bar for each person on the island. We landed in a pizza place (I forget the name) for pie and a brew.
More updates tomorrow...

K

Kids. A whole lot of my friends, most of Melba's friends and even a few of my cow-orkers have had kids in the last year or so, and because of it, I've become burnt out on kids. I'm tired of hearing about pregnancy, breast feeding, sleepless nights, teething, all of it. Yes, I realize that I'm being a bah humbug asshole to my friends who are going through a life-changing experience, and I should be happier than I am for them, but I just can't do it. I just can't get excited about children and I'm having a tough time even feigning interest anymore.

I apologize to my kid-endowed friends. I can't help it. I just don't want kids, am not interested in kids, and with few exceptions, I don't even like kids. Even when I hang out with kids I do like, I am grateful for the fact that when I go home, the kids do not follow.

J

Today's letter is easy. I can think of two Js that have had a significant influence on who I am:

Jon. Jon is my oldest friend; I've known him since I was about 12. He was also my friend during some of the toughest times in my life. In those days I was so screwed up that even though I wasn't explicitly suicidal, the self-destructive path I was on was much the same as suicide. I need to give his father a little bit of credit here too; if I was Jon's dad, I would have had second thoughts about letting my son hang out with a kid who was so screwed up. I'm definitely glad he did, since Jon's friendship helped save my bacon back then. I wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for him, and I tried to tell him so in front of a few hundred people the day he got married - but I got all weepy when I was giving the toast and it ended up making no sense.

Jenna. I've known Jenna about 8 years now, and even though we started out dating each other and eventually broke up, we managed to remain friends. I'm very lucky to know Jenna - she's one of, if not the, kindest, most generous friends you could ever have. She'll be the first to lend a hand if you're in need, and is always there with a sympathetic ear. Sure, she's good at putting on a tough native Angeleno face when she needs to, but don't let it fool you - she's warm and sweet through and through. I can't imagine a better friend.

I (or not)

I'm at a loss for topics about me that begin with "I", so I'm going to skip it and cover something else that I've been thinking about lately. Balance.

I often feel the need to sugar-coat my moods and put on a sunnier-than-reality disposition for the benefit of other people in my life; not so much for my closest friends, but for cow-orkers or second and third tier friends. You know, the people who *really matter*. I know, it doesn't make sense. Anyway, I'm aware of this tendency of mine (inherited from my father) and I've been working on being more genuine about how I'm feeling, not only with myself but with everyone else. Not in an annoying TMI way if someone just asks me how I am, but just in a more real, less sugary way.

Now contrast that with my recent posts here where I've been angrier and darker than I really need to be (what was I thinking with that post about hating it when people comment?), and I've come to realize that I need to strike a better balance here, too. I don't want this blog to be a shiny, happyass false picture of my life, but it doesn't need to be a dumping ground for angry rants, either.

Balance. I should have posted this a few days ago for "B".

H

Home. Home is very important to me.My home doesn't need to be large; even if I won the lottery I would not buy a huge home. But my home does need to feel comfortable and provide a nest where I can curl up on the couch or the floor of the shower or wherever I decide to curl, and feel at peace. In a larger sense, Southern California is my home, and I can't imagine leaving again. I'm not sayin' it'll never happen, but it would take a very special place and situation to get me to leave.

Hopkins High. Ooo... a double-H. Hopkins High School was where I spent three of the worst years of my life. I have extreme pity for anyone who has ever uttered the words "High school is the best time of your life". Blargh. I was an absolute wreck when I was a teenager, and the only things that kept me from self-destruction were my two good friends and the fact that I was too chickenshit to try drugs. Somehow even then, I knew that my life would eventually improve; I had a sense that there was something to live for, even if life sucked fierce ass at the time. Looking back, I've thought about changing the things I regret. I'm pretty happy with who I am, and while it'd be satisfying to go back and steer myself away from some of the truly idiotic things I did back then, I wouldn't want to change the way I turned out.

Horchata. Horchata is one of those things I see at the taco stands that scares me. That and tripe. I know horchata is basically rice milk (at least around here), but still... I can't bring myself to try it. Which says a lot, since I'll usually try just about anything at least once.

G

Getty. Coincironically, I Melba and I happened to visit the Getty Villa today.The Villa is gorgeous, located off the Pacific Coast Highway in Malibu.

George. My dad. George Gage Lyon. He's a topic best left for another, much longer post.

Gargantuan. Ah, I love that word.

Golf. Golf is one of those things that I enjoy doing, and would definitely do more of if I had the time and the money, but I will likely never be good at. Not that I wouldn't mind being good at it, I just don't care enough about being good at it to want to take lessons or even take the sport very seriously. I like golf mainly for the opportunity to hang out with friends and enjoy a beautiful day. Maybe even tip back a beer or two out on the course.

Greeks. At the Getty today, Melba spotted a cool piece on display:This is titled: "Wine Cup Fragment with a Drunk Man". Ahh, those crazy Greeks.

F

Failure. One of my greatest fears is of failure. That someday I'll lose my job, lose my home, and end up homeless. My first year of college I was living in the dorms, which closed when everyone went home for Christmas break. I had lined up a temporary place to stay, but that fell through two days before break, and I had a little more than $50 to last me a month. So I lived in my truck and ate one $0.99 seven layer burrito from Taco Bell every day. I didn't think too much about it at the time, but spending nights shivering in my truck sorta sunk into my brain later on. I've often felt like I don't have a safety net, were something bad to happen and I found myself unable to work or pay bills. You'd think that this fear would be a great incentive for me to learn how to save and manage my money, but that would make sense - and making sense is not what I'm about.

Fight. I have never struck anyone in anger in my life. Ever. I avoid confrontation in my life. Why rock the boat?

Flatulence. I'm drawing a blank on F words tonight. All I can think of is fiasco and fuck, and really... nobody wants to read what I have to say about either of those.

E

Education. Not too long ago, my stepdad made me an offer: if I want to go back to school, he'd help me pay for it. A refreshing change from what my dad always said from the time I was about 10 years old: "You can go to college if you want, but we ain't payin' for it." Lately I've been thinking a lot about taking him up on that offer, but I am not sure how I'm going to juggle work and school just yet, much less what or where I might study.

Effervescent. Ah, I love that word.

Eckankar. Back in the day, I used to work at this pro photo lab called Universal Colour (yes, they spelled it with a U). One of the lab's regular customers was a "church" called Eckankar, and while the representatives who stopped in to drop off rolls of photos seemed friendly, I always got a weird vibe from them. Their pictures were always of what looked like potluck dinners or other similar social gatherings, so I never really thought much of the Eckankar people other than my amusement that their "church" was called The Temple of Eck. Wasn't until years later that I heard the name Eckankar again in a discussion about cults.

Can you tell I'm reaching on the "E"?

Empathy. All my life, I've had trouble empathizing with people, even those that I love. I've often found myself forgetting birthdays, unknowingly saying things that hurt people's feelings, or not doing or saying something when I should to make someone feel better or give comfort. I've got a serious streak of oblivious when it comes to other people's feelings, especially in sad or painful situations. I didn't realize I had this shortcoming until a few years ago, but now I try to make up for it whenever I can. I suspect that part of my problem is my own desire to shut myself off from others when I'm hurting or in pain - reaching out to someone else when I'm in those situations just never occurs to me - so I just don't notice it when others are in need. I gotta work on that more.

Etch-a-sketch. One of the coolest little apps I've hacked onto my iPhone is a little program called Sketches that is an Etch-a-Sketch emulator for the iPhone. You drag your finger around the screen to draw, and when you're done, you shake the iPhone to erase what you've doodled. How cool is that?

D

Duff. My cat has many names. His full name is Gleadom's Duffy O'Flynn of Lee Way, but that's a bit of a mouthful, so I call him Duff, among a few other names:
Big D
The Doof
Duffalamadingdong
The D
Zee Bigga DeeHe's one of the best looking cats I've ever known, and damn cool to boot.

Driving. I love to drive. I don't even mind traffic, unless I'm running late or people are being rude. I am quite fond of driving fast, especially on closed courses and racetracks. Here's a little video of me breaking a racecar:This was from a few years ago, but I just found the video clip a few days ago and uploaded it to YouTube. That was a Roos Racing school at Virginia Int'l Raceway, and even though I broke that particular car, I still had a blast. Driving is one of those things that I hope never becomes obsolete - I never want my car to drive for me or for a robot to take over the task.

DWI. I have a college story about the time I once got stopped for DWI in Tucson. It was late, and I decided to hop in my old truck and get a taco at Taco Bell. As I get to the 'Bell, I see that I was too late - they just closed. So, I made a U-turn at the next intersection and headed back home. Across the street from the Taco Bell is a McDonald's, and lo and behold, they're still open! But I didn't realize they were still open 'til it was too late to turn into the parking lot. So I made a U-turn at the next intersection, and then another U-turn at the Taco Bell intersection (the street had a divider) to get back to the McD's. Just as I pull into the McD's parking lot, a TPD squad car came wheelin' into the lot and boxed me into the parking space. Mr. Officer ran my license, my registration, and for 15 minutes, ran me through the battery of stupid human tricks that supposedly proved that I was, oddly enough, sober. Count backwards from 100 by sixes, recite the alphabet backwards, walk the straight line, tilt my head back and touch my nose, etc. etc. After all that, Mr. Officer looked a little frustrated and said "We've got a portable breathalyzer in the car. If you pass that, you can go." I wanted to say "Shit, why didn't you tell me that 20 minutes ago?" But I didn't say anything. I blew a .003, and I think that was from a beer I'd had about 5 hours earlier. Mr. Officer was obviously frustrated now, as I seemed to have wasted his time. He wrote me a ticket for an improper turn and sent me on my way. The McD's closed before I could get in.

C

Craptastic. Since starting this little meme thing, I've spent a little time each day thinking of topics I might post for each letter. Today, I've had one of those days where everything that could possibly break or take a shit on me has broken or taken said shit. Despite my fighting back with a positive attitude, I'm feelin' a little beat down today. The users have been merciless with their problems today too. Case in point, I spent 20 minutes in a conference room with a vendor trying to get a website to load, only to find out that they were giving me the wrong URL. Someone "back at corporate" didn't know the difference between a "." and a "-". Funtimes.

Canon camera (ooo... a double-C). I've posted before about my trusty little pocket camera, the Canon SD800IS.
This is a great little camera in so many ways, and I've talked it up to my friends so much since I bought it in January that four people I know have bought them. Mine is due for a good cleaning and maybe a tune-up; I've shot almost 2,500 pictures with it since January, and its been a trusty little unit.

Catholicism. I was raised Catholic, attended Catholic school from 1st through 8th grades, and was even an altar boy for a few years. I attended church every Wednesday for school and almost every Sunday with mom, and I hated every minute of it. I volunteered to be an altar boy mainly because it gave me something to do during the service and the time passed more quickly. After I switched over to public school in 9th grade and mom stopped forcing me to go, I pretty much never looked back. I've attended mass less than 10 times since then, mainly for holidays or weddings. I don't miss it one bit. My beliefs toward god or a higher power tend to run very personal, and the idea of hanging out in a big building, singing songs, and reciting prayers with a hundred other people as a means of worship just doesn't fit for me. I'm not much for organized religion at all, save for some Buddhist beliefs like the eightfold path.

California. All of my previous posts in this meme have included places, and I would be very remiss if I didn't post about California. I'm born and bred midwesterner, but California is my home and I love it. The year and a half that I spent back in Minnesota really drove that home for me, and I realized that it would take a very special something to ever lure me away from California again. Yes, this place has plenty of faults and at least as many detractors, but this is where I fit, where I feel at home and comfortable.

Czechoslovakia. I have nothing to say about Czechoslovakia, but since most of my other entries started with "Ca", I wanted to finish up with a Cz.

B

Belize. Melba and I had an awesome vacation in Belize back in February.
The other two most excellent people in that photo are now engaged to be married (to each other, even) and the latest word is they'll be headed back to Belize for the wedding. I have a personal rule against visiting the same exotic destination twice, but I'll make an exception. Just this once.

BMW. Anyone who knows me knows I am partial to cars made by the Bavarian Motor Works. I've owned 4 of them, and with the exception of the first one, I've dug every one of them. That first one was an uneducated purchase. Ya gotta know what you're buying when you get a German car that's more than 10 years old, and that was before I learned. Since then, I've had two 535is's, and my current car, a 325iC.

Boat. My parents divorced when I was 12. In the settlement, my dad kept the boat. One of the best times I've ever had with my dad was when we put the boat on the St. Croix river and spent a weekend fishing and cruising the river. He brought far too much beer for just the two of us (I was only 15), so we ended up drunk and sunburnt. But I had an awesome time.

Bears. Bears are soulless, godless, rampaging killing machines.

Bonus cross-post.

I went for a little walk around the neighborhood tonight, and shot this picture while I was out. I'm not sure why, but it makes me giggle every time I look at it.

I have it over on my 365 blog, too.

A

Based on Stefanie's recommendation, I'm gonna give the Encyclopedia of Me meme a try. See how far I make it into the alphabet before I feel too self-absorbed.

A.

Apple Valley, Minnesota. in 1977, my parents bought a brand new house in Apple Valley. My dad, being as odd as he is, decided that he didn't want any trees on the property. The back yard was huge, perfectly flat, and had nice grass, so it was a great place to play football as a kid. Not that I did that very often. I did, however, spend a lot of time playing Tonka trucks with Sunny, the cute next door neighbor girl. She had a sister named Dawn. I suspect her parents were stoners or former hippies.

Arizona. I lived in Arizona for almost 6 years, and while I liked it when I was there, I'm now spoiled by California. I could never go back. I do love watching my Alma Mater's (U of A) basketball team in March. They always make it to the dance.

Alaska. I'm probably pushing a few too many places beginning with "A" on this, but Alaska is a big one for me. For those who are new to my blog, I made two trips to Alaska last year - driving an RV on the Alaska Highway. Both trips were over 3,000 miles, and both were a ton of fun. I would do it again in a heartbeat. Driving to Alaska on the Alaska Highway is something I think everyone should do at least once in their life. And wait tables or work retail.

Altitude. I love skydiving. I have a gift certificate for a tandem jump, given to me by a very good friend. I should use that soon.

Algebra. I hated algebra in school, and I still don't know why I had to learn it. I've not used a whit of it since.

Apple, Inc. Those of you who know me well know that I'm a sucker for all things Apple. Computers, iPods, the iPhone, pretty much everything they make. I stop short of true Apple fanboy status though, and I don't really bash on Windows much anymore, unless Microsoft is doing something particularly evil. One way I differentiate myself from the hardcore Apple fanboys is my restraint in buying the latest 'n greatest stuff Apple puts out. I waited to get an iPhone, and I waited to get an Intel Mac. I learned long ago that Apple can be rough on bleeding edge early adopters.

I'm sure I'll think of more "A" stuff as soon as I hit the publish button.

Sunday.

So far today, I've done almost nothing - and nothing has been everything I thought it could be. I was due for a day of nothing.

Woke up this morning thinking about my feet, which feature something my dad calls "The Gage Toes" - crooked toes run in his mother's (Gage) family. This thought led me to think about some of the other odd features I possess, like my fake teeth. And the six inch scar on my stomach. And the little "+" on my hand where I stabbed myself with a philips screwdriver when I was 17. And the three inch scar on my head that you can only see when my hair is super short.

Not sure why I started thinking about this. Maybe it was something to do with the backache I wake up with every morning if I sleep more than 7 hours.

On another note, I still don't know what I'm doing with this NaBloPoMo thing. Sure, I can post more fluffy, pointless stuff like this for the rest of the month. I don't want to do that. I want it to be something more.

Tired.

Short post. Got my motorcycle back from Bakersfield today - had to trailer it home. As it is now, it's little more than a frame with wheels and two big boxes of parts. Gonna be a lot of work to get that thing back on the road.

And on that note, I'm going to bed.

(Update: there is something wrong with my RSS feed - it says I didn't post this until the 4th, when I made it in on the 3rd with 25 minutes to spare.)

Coffee.

Since returning to my old job, I've also returned to an old addiction - coffee. It's particularly tempting when the company provides a nifty little machine like this one that grinds you a fresh cup of coffee in 45 seconds.

Sure, it's Starbucks coffee and Starbucks is inherently evil, but as I like to say... free has an appeal all its own.

I worry that I've become hooked on the caffeine again. I'm back to a full mug of coffee a day, which I realize isn't all that extreme in the spectrum of caffeine addiction, but I like to think that I can function just fine without it. Lately, I'm not so sure.

No silly string in LA, mister.

When silly string is outlawed, only outlaws will have silly string.
Silly string control is a steady hand.
Silly string doesn't kill people. People kill people.

Startin' off with a "bang"

Today is day one of NaBloPoMo, and I've got two quick topics I'd like to lay down on y'all. First is this odd dream I had last night where I was trying to find Harry Belafonte under a freeway overpass. I think it was the 405. I never found him, but at one point in the middle of the dream I jammed my thumb while looking for him under a small rock. Here's the odd part: I woke up this morning with a sore thumb. Hmm.

Secondly, I just learned of the existence of the interrobang, which is a combination of an exclamation point (a.k.a. bang) and a question mark. Where has this thing been hiding all my life? I don't think punctuation can possibly get any cooler than this:

WTF‽

Oh yes. That is nice.