digital janitor

Immortalized!

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Tue, 19 Jan 2010 08:26:00 +0000

When I was a kid, I never really got into comic books the way other kids did. None of my friends were really into them, and my parents didn't really encourage reading of any kind, so it just never occurred to me. Now that I'm an adult geek, I've got cow-orkers who were raised on comic books. Not only that, I've got cow-orkers who WRITE comic books.

Back in the dreary days of September, when morale around the office was pretty low, my friend and cow-orker Scott Tipton asked if I'd like to be a character in a comic he was writing. Of course I jumped at the chance, and fired off a couple of pictures of myself and another cow-orker, Jeff Dailey, for the illustrator to use.

Three months later, the issue is out! Star Trek Captain's Log: Sulu

I'm taking a chance on angering the gods (and lawyers) of copyright, but here's my comic debut:

I'm the handsome devil, foreground left.

The illustrator made my jaw a little chunky on that one, but hey - I'm not complaining - I get referred to by name here! Woo!

Again, foreground left in a cool ZOOM! scene.

And my last scene, again foreground left.

How cool is that? Please support Scott by picking up a copy (I picked up 12!) from your local comic shop or online here: Star Trek Captain's Log: Sulu.

1/5/00

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Wed, 06 Jan 2010 07:02:00 +0000

Ten years ago today, I moved from San Diego to Los Angeles. While my moves from Minnesota to Arizona and Arizona to California were farther, moving to LA was, in retrospect, the most significant move I've made yet. I consider myself an Angeleno. Not because I've been here for ten years (save a brief return to Minnesota), but because this is the first place I've lived where I have truly felt at home.

I love LA. The bad things about living here - traffic, crowding, cost of living - don't really bother me very much. The good things about living here - the weather, the location, the activities - make me happy on an almost daily basis. Do I wish it were not so damn expensive to buy a home here? Sure. But every morning when I step out the front door of my apartment and the sun shines warmly on my face (~320 days per year), I am happy to be here. Every time I hop on my motorcycle and find a gloriously twisty two lane road that lets me dance through a canyon or mountain pass or even a national park, I am happy to be here. Happy to be in California.

That said, I feel like I can't stay here indefinitely. Someday, I do want to own my own home, have a yard I can mow, a garage where I can work on cars and motorcycles. Unless my income magically doubles or triples, there's just no way I'll be able to buy a home like that in any decent part of LA.

So where do I go? I know myself well enough to know that I need to see the sun on a regular basis. That rules out the Pacific Northwest. I prefer to be warm enough to ride a motorcycle at least most of the year, preferably year-round. That rules out the midwest and most of the northeast. I'm not a fan of ridiculous humidity, so that rules out the Gulf Coast and Florida. I've done my time in the desert, so that rules out most of the Southwest. What does that leave me? A small slice of Colorado and maybe a tiny part of Texas? Maybe even a little bit of South Carolina if I were to be flexible on the humidity? I don't know.

My only real new years resolution is to make a significant change in my life this year. I can't stay at my job forever, and I'll never get ahead working for someone else. I'd like to try working for myself, either as a consultant or running my own business. It might even mean leaving LA to make it happen - I don't know.

Those last two paragraphs feel like a whole lot of "don't know". I do know that I'll miss LA. I love this city.

Things That Work: HD Radio

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Mon, 28 Dec 2009 19:27:00 +0000

I recently bought an HD radio at a charity auction. I wasn't in the market for one, but when it came up at the auction, I thought it might be fun to have. I'd heard about the better quality sound, but given the utter crap that passes for radio in Los Angeles (NPR excepted), I wasn't expecting much. Better sounding crap is still crap.

Color me pleasantly surprised. Both of my favorite NPR stations (KCRW and KPCC) broadcast in HD, which sounds more like a CD than FM; a much better tonal range with deeper bass and cleaner highs than you get with analog radio. Most HD stations include information about the song, so the radio can show the station call letters, the song title, artist name, and a few other tidbits that scroll by on the display.

As a bonus, most HD stations broadcast in multiple channels. KCRW does not, but KPCC broadcasts two additional channels, one of them being a rebroadcast of The Current out of Minneapolis. How cool is that?

365:2010

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Fri, 18 Dec 2009 07:14:00 +0000

Yep, I'm gonna do it again, another photo-a-day project for 2010. Last time I did this project, I started in 2007 and kept it up for 833 days. And a couple of weeks after I stopped, I began missing it.

My problem is, I've got a crappy memory. But visual things seem to do a better job of soaking into my head, so for me to be able to revisit those 833 days of my life is something that I love. What a great record of what I did, from the inane to the awesome (mostly inane).

I'm planning to use the same web home for the new project. I've even wrangled some new and some old 365 friends to join me. If you'd like to join us too, send me an email. It'll be a good thing.

Also, I've moved the old site here. It has a new URL, but the site is exactly the same.

Fun day at work.

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 06:45:00 +0000

Most days, my job is routine. But one of the aspects of my job that I like best is that I get asked to do odd things that don't fit into other people's job descriptions. I've become a go-to guy for weird stuff, which is just fine with me.

Today, I had to test-fire a confetti cannon in the courtyard:

The part where I danced around like a jackass was just icing on the cake.

Redemption.

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 05:08:00 +0000

The Grilled Cheese Truck has fully and completely redeemed itself with delightful cheesy awesomeness. Back on the 27th, I described my disappointment with The Grilled Cheese Truck on their debut night. Since it was their first night in business, I decided to reserve final judgment until I was able to give them one more try, which happened tonight.

They were parked at The Brig in Venice again, and this time, there was no line at all. The same lovely woman who gave me a ticket for half off a sandwich for my wait last time was there to collect it, and she thanked me profusely for coming back. She also made me promise to tell her what I thought of tonight's sandwich.

This evening, the plan was to visit a handful of trucks parked along Abbott Kinney, so I only had a bag of tater tots and the same Cheesy Mac and Rib sandwich that I almost liked last time. This time, it was excellent. Bread was perfectly crispy on the outside, and the inside of macaroni and cheese with sharp cheddar with BBQ pork, and caramelized onions was ample, well melted, and damn fine tasty.

I was happy to report back to the lovely woman in the truck that tonight's grilled cheese was excellent. I love a happy ending.

Los Padres

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 07:28:00 +0000

I've been posting far too infrequently and seriously as of late, and that's a habit that's no fun for me, and certainly not much fun for the two of you that I haven't yet managed to scare away. So without further adieu, I offer a little trip report on a ride I took a few weekends ago up to Los Padres National Forest.

Los Padres is about an hour's ride from my home, and is located a little bit northeast of Santa Barbara, California. Here's the route I took:
My trip starts out at the little green box at the bottom right of the map, then went around the top loop clockwise before doubling back home. The little red pushpins on the map are where I took the photos below. Shockingly, the weather that day was gorgeous. Okay, so that's not so shocking in Southern California, but I was still loving the sunshine and blue skies.

When I go on these rides, I rarely have a specific destination in mind. I usually dial up a map, draw a 60 mile radius around my home, and look for some roads depicted as really squiggly lines in that radius. If the road goes somewhere cool, great. If not, that's ok too - the road is the part I enjoy most. This trip featured the delightful CA-33, Cerro Noroeste Road, and Lockwood Valley Road.

Los Padres has some fairly tall mountains, and one, Mt. Pinos, features a paved road that takes you pretty close to the summit. Mt. Pinos Road is a 9 mile long dead end that splits off from Lockwood Valley Road and ends at the summit, so there isn't much traffic and the views are spectacular. The elevation at the top is 8,300 feet, and the weather is about 15 degrees cooler than the lower elevations.On the day I was there, a group was doing ski patrol training at the Base, so I didn't hang around long - the place was busy.

Heading back down the hill, I got back onto Lockwood Valley Road, which loops back to CA-33. It passes through an area burned in what was called the La Brea fire a little over a year ago. I didn't see much of the burn area, but did pass a few charred trees.Since little of the burn area is visible from the road, most of the views are beautiful, and I even got a little sample of what passes as fall colors around here.Whenever I go on these rides, I always bring my cameras with me, thinking that I'll stop and take a lot of shots of the scenery - but I rarely do. The roads are so much fun to ride that it takes my mind off the photography.All I want to do is ride, ride, ride.

Food Trucks: Fleeting Fad, or Fun Future of Feeding?

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 05:53:00 +0000

I'm not completely bowled over by the recent LA food truck phenomenon, but I am amused. There are a few trucks I enjoy, and even a couple that I follow on Twitter. One truck I follow just for amusement since their truck always breaks down (I'm looking at you, Coolhaus).

Some people can't fathom the idea of eating food off a truck, but the trucks I've seen are a lot cleaner than most diners, and really - it's just a small kitchen on wheels. Get over it. Other people can't grasp the idea of waiting in line for food, which I can certainly understand. I don't like waiting for food either, but there is a social aspect to hanging out in a food truck queue, and I've met some very nice people while waiting with friends. The waiting in line novelty hasn't worn off for me yet.

Jenna and I have had some pretty stellar food off a few trucks; Kogi for Korean BBQ and Nom Nom for Banh Mi are two of my favorites. But tonight, we had epic disappointment.

Tonight was the opening night for The Grilled Cheese Truck. There is no way I can overstate how much I wanted this truck to rock my fucking socks, for two big, enormous reasons:

1. Grilled cheese sandwiches! Fuck yeah!
2. On a truck! YES!

Since tonight was their first night, and they'd been taunting and teasing the interwebs with pictures of great looking sandwiches for months, I got there early to beat the line - 7:45 arrival for the 8:30 start. 'Round about 8:40, word came from the truck that there were griddle problems afoot in the truck, but they graciously served a few free helpings of hot soup while we waited. And waited.

And waited.

Mechanic arrived to fix the griddle at about 9:20. We were 5th in line, finally got our food at 9:40, two hours after I got there, and over an hour after they were supposed to start. Fine, I understand mechanical problems - can't be helped. They were kind enough to give us the soup samples and a coupon for half off our next sandwich. Good service in a bummer situation. Cool.

But then we got down to eating our long-awaited grilled cheeses. So sad. Even though we only walked about one minute from the truck to sit and eat, our sandwiches were already cold, and the cheese on our "Plain and Simple Melt" was barely melted to begin with. Then we realized they shorted us the side order of macaroni and cheese we ordered, and J had to wait in line for a refund after being told "we aren't making that tonight" even though they took our money for it. Ugh.

To be fair, it wasn't all bad. The "Cheesy Mac and Rib" sandwich was tasty and interesting despite being cold, and their tater tots had great seasoning and were yummy, even though they started out as Ore Ida from a bag.

To be extra-fair, I think The Grilled Cheese Truck has the potential to be great, once they get their shit together and the bugs ironed out. I'm going to reserve final judgment until I give them one more try, maybe two or three weeks from now.

Insult to injury moment of the evening: Jenna and I got $60 parking tickets for being parked on Venice boulevard after 10pm. Grr.

Ah, dad.

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Wed, 07 Oct 2009 07:59:00 +0000

Stefanie's excellent post about her dad reminded me of some thoughts I've been having about my own dad recently. I've written about my dad before, and I don't think it's a secret that he's a strange dude and that he and I have a rough history.

My dad doesn't have long distance on his phone, so I'm responsible for calling him. Sunday afternoon is our usual talk time, but I haven't called him in almost two months, and I've been feeling a little bit guilty. Not because I haven't called, but because I haven't even wanted to call. No desire whatsoever to talk to him. His conversations inevitably cover the same topics; NASCAR, how I should not have broken up with my ex-girlfriend, and the weather. While I don't mind those topics, I just don't have the patience to hear the negative lectures anymore.

Last week while I helped work on the remembrance celebration for my friend Blair, I marveled at the way he surrounded himself with an awesome group of warm, loving, and positive people. Unfortunately, my dad is none of those things, and I've realized (finally?) that I just need to limit my contact with him. Life's too short to spend it with people who aren't a positive influence.

Memento vivere

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 04:47:00 +0000

I've been spending time on a cool project at work the last few days. I'm scanning photos and editing a video to be played at Blair's celebration party that's coming up Sunday afternoon. The photo scanning has been fascinating - I've been learning a lot about him and his family, and it's impressive to see how well they documented the good times. One of the coolest photos (I wish I had it here to post) shows Blair on a beach, and you can see the tattoo he had on his left bicep. It was just plain text, and it said "MEMENTO VIVERE". Not being well-versed in Latin (I only took it in 8th grade), I had to look it up - the literal translation is "remember to live".

A simple reminder of something that is so easy to lose sight of. For me, it's incredibly easy to get distracted by the day to day routine, doing the things that need to be done to pay the bills. Lulled into a trance that keeps me from taking the crazy tangents or even the minor sidetracks that are the adventure in life.

Fear has something to do with that, too. To fully invest my heart and soul into something that's not a sure-win scares me back into the safe cave of inaction. Looking back in my history, there just aren't many times when I have taken a chance and put everything I've got into something I cared about. It goes deeper than "you get out of it what you put into it", but that's some of it.

I suspect these thoughts that are a minor revelation to me are common sense to everyone else. The older I get, the more I know that there is an infinite supply of that which I do not know. This little gem, "remember to live", is one that I am glad I learned and desperately want to put into action. Now I just have to figure out how to do it.

A dish best served cold.

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Thu, 24 Sep 2009 08:30:00 +0000

Go to Yahoo! Image Search:

http://images.search.yahoo.com

In the search field, enter:

gallup new mexico

It has taken me three years, but I have exacted my revenge.

PSA: Old tires.

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 07:06:00 +0000

After doing a little bit of internet research on the truck's tires that failed last weekend, I found out that they were manufactured in August of 1997. And that due to the way rubber ages, tires over six years old are considered past their prime, no matter how much tread they have.

Here's how to check how old your tires are. Every tire has a DOT code stamped into the side of the tire: The first few bits are manufacturer info, but what you want is the last three or hopefully four digits - this is the date the tires were manufactured. These digits will either be in a little box, circled, or somehow look different from the rest. On the tire pictured (the one that caused the accident), the code shows the tire was made in the 32nd week of 1997. If your tires were made after 2000, there will be four digits, say "4205", referring to the 42nd week of 2005.

Next time you're checking the air pressure on your tires (you DO check this, don't you?), have a peek at that date code. If your tires are older than six years old, consider getting them replaced soon. Especially if you drive a larger or heavier vehicle like an SUV.

Also note that just because your vehicle is new, the tires might not be. My short bit of research turned up a few reports of brand new cars sold with tires that turned out to be significantly older than the car.

Little rubber donuts.

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Sat, 19 Sep 2009 08:14:00 +0000

I have bad luck with tires. I'm 38 years old and have driven quite a few miles, but I think it's fair to say that five tread separation/blowout tire failures is bad luck. The first one was on my old truck, the SS RUST, in 1995. Rear tire, on the highway, the tread peeled right off the tire. I managed to pull over without much trouble. The second one was about two weeks later. Same truck, same freeway. Earlier that morning, I had two of the four tires on the truck replaced (I was poor), and asked the shop to save the two best of the old ones for the front of the truck. Not so much. A few hours later, the left front tire blew out and I hit a tree in the median while going about 60 mph. The tree stayed put.
My luck improved, until 2004. Toolin' down the 405 in my '98 Honda Civic, the left rear tire lost most of its tread, and the chunk of tread left was a big flap that beat the snot out of the car before I could get pulled over. I seem to have lost the pics of that one.

Last Saturday afternoon, I was riding in my friend Jeff's truck out to Amboy Crater for some pyrotechnic fun. We were minding our own business when the right front tire threw most of its tread, again a big flap of rubber beat up the truck before Jeff could get the truck stopped.
That's the spare tire.
And to top it off, on the way home from Amboy about 8 hours later, the truck lost another tire. Left rear, this one was a little worse.
My friend Carel was driving this time, I was lucky enough to have been in the back seat for the tumble and only got a little bruised and scratched. Carel and Jeff in the front seat made it out okay, but were a bit more beat up than I was. They ended up with a little less head room in the front seat than I did in the back.
I have bad luck with tires.

Blair.

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Sun, 06 Sep 2009 01:22:00 +0000

My good friend Blair passed away Friday morning. I'm just stunned and numb and stuck in disbelief. He was so much more than just my boss, he was such a good friend. Self-deprecating, but so quick to compliment everyone around him, he was supportive and encouraging and positive every single day I knew him.

One of the amazing things about Blair was how he was so well loved at work. He was the IT Director, working with many different people around the agency every day, a place with a ridiculously wide variety of egos and personalities and political hierarchies and fiefdoms, yet out of those 500 or so people, I can't think of even one person who didn't like Blair. How is that even possible? He pulled it off. Made it look easy. Take a look at the "Blair" link over on the right side of this page. If you follow that to his blog, you'll see hundreds of comments by dozens and dozens of people who love Blair.

While you're there, please take a moment to read a comment by Scott Tipton, one of my co-workers, posted to Blair's blog, here. Scott said it so much better than I ever could. Blair was so proud of his kids, of his family, of his friends, and of his crew in the office. And I know he was proud of me, too. I'm so lucky.

Everything I've written here sounds glib to me, probably because I just can't fathom that he's really gone and can't process it. Maybe I'll have better words someday, more eloquence. All I can think to say right now is that I already miss him.

Thoughts.

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Fri, 28 Aug 2009 03:01:00 +0000

Note: I apologize in advance for this post. It isn't very entertaining and likely isn't even of interest to anyone but myself, but I feel the need to get what has been bouncing around in my head put into words on a page, and this is what I ended up with.

My friend Blair's recent illness has caused me to think and re-think a lot of myself. He and I used to walk to Tully's (a nearby coffee shop) many mornings, and even though most of the conversations were pretty mundane, we did occasionally talk about things like The Future and What I Want To Be When I Grow Up. While I think he enjoys working with the people we work with, I'm pretty damn certain it isn't his dream job. We sometimes talked about making a change and doing something different, even if neither one of us knew exactly what that "something" might be.

What makes me saddest about his current situation is that he might not get the chance to make that change, to do something that he really wants to do. I realize that's a bit of a selfish thought - obviously I care very much about his children and the rest of his family too, but I guess that bit of wavelength he I and I shared is just how I've framed it all in my own mind. I'm still struggling to process it all.

--

Shifting back to my own situation, I've come to think that maybe I'm meant to fly this life solo. So many of the things that make me happy are primarily solo endeavors; photography, motorcycles, computer geekery, and reading, to name just a few. The culture I live in places a high value on marriage, raising children, and the accumulation of wealth. As a contrarian, I can't see myself married, children scare me, and the older I get, the less interested I am in accumulating wealth. Sure, I like things like cool cars, fast bikes, and nice houses, but I'm just not interested in the sacrifices one has to make to acquire and maintain those things. I'd much rather live a simple life with a few things and as much adventure as I can cram into my limited days on this rock. I don't get nearly enough adventure.

I realize that some of my disdain for accumulating stuff comes from jealousy and my inability to afford the nicer things in life. Some of it also comes from a rebellious streak - society says "You're not successful until you get married, have kids, and buy stuff!" and I say fuck you society, I'd rather be weird. I have no interest in filling out that ScanTron (Use a #2 pencil! Stay within the ovals!).

Life would be easier if I was content with The Usual. I could find a nice wife, settle down, have a kid or two, and punch the clock until I retire. I'm pretty sure I could pull that off if I wanted to. But I don't want to. So I think about forging a trail of my own, making a change in an unknown direction. I feel like I need to do it soon, because something might happen and I might not get the chance to make that change.

Blair.

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Mon, 10 Aug 2009 04:47:00 +0000

I'm re-posting this photo because my dear friend Blair really needs some help right now. I feel entirely powerless, but it isn't stopping me from wishing and praying in my own little way for the miracle that he so desperately needs. Come on, buddy. You can do it.

7/16: Blair.

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Fri, 17 Jul 2009 06:59:00 +0000

My boss and friend, Blair. He went in for an outpatient heart surgery the day after I shot this (last Friday), and had a stroke Sunday morning. He's at the Stroke ICU at UCLA right now, and is doing okay, all things considered. The whole thing leaves me stunned and sad, just unable to comprehend how he and his family must be feeling right now. For now, I'm just pullin' for him and I can't wait to see him, once he is allowed visitors.

7/15: New screen.

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Thu, 16 Jul 2009 06:59:00 +0000

When the screen went bad on "my" MacBook Pro, I discovered it was just out of warranty and Apple wanted a week to fix it. So I fixed it myself instead.

7/14: 3GS

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Wed, 15 Jul 2009 06:59:00 +0000

I'm such an Apple fanboy slut, I couldn't wait to upgrade my iPhone.

7/13: Red.

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 06:59:00 +0000

I've shot pictures of this thing before, but I can't resist - it always looks so interesting to me when I walk by.

7/12: Mina.

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 06:59:00 +0000

If you tell her to make a crazy face, she'll make a crazy face.

7/11: LA.

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Sun, 12 Jul 2009 06:59:00 +0000

I didn't do a whole lot on my birthday. Woke up super early to get a new tire on my motorcycle, got my free Slurpee, and took a nice nap before heading out to shoot some pictures around downtown. Not a bad day at all.

7/10: Red Velvet.

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 06:59:00 +0000

I had the day off and hung out at Venice Grind for a little while. The red velvet cake was pretty damn good, although kinda expensive.

7/9: Mr. Dailey enjoys a beer.

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Fri, 10 Jul 2009 06:59:00 +0000

7/8: Kogi BBQ

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Thu, 09 Jul 2009 06:59:00 +0000

The highlight of my day was the Kogi korean BBQ taco truck. I had a short rib burrito, a spicy pork taco, and a slider. YUM.