I was trying to log in to a stupid insurance website, and it kept giving me an error message that said to call an 800 number for help.  I hate talking on the phone, especially with "technical support" people ("Is your computer on?"  Yes.  "Try restarting."), so I waited until the next day and tried again.  Time heals all wounds, right?  Not in this case.  So I ended up calling the number and navigating the phone maze before eventually talking to a human being.  So far so good.  I told her my problem, and she told me the solution:  I had to register in order to log in, which is weird because I already have a username and password.  Long story long, I re-registered and was able to log in.  Hooray! 

While I was on the phone with this human, I asked her why the website didn't simply tell me what the problem was, instead of making me call an 800 number and waste a company's money by talking to one of their humans.  Instead of just telling me there's an error, why not tell me what to do about it?  It's like telling me not to make a U-turn.  Where the hell am I supposed to make a U-turn? 

Her response to my technical inquiry was the following, and I quote:  "The system doesn't know whether you're registered or not until after you register.  So if you're not registered, it doesn't know that.  You have to register first so it'll know you're registered." 

This is obviously false.  If I need to be registered in order for the system to check whether I'm registered, then that step is meaningless.  I'm not a genius, but I understand how technology works, and I even know how to program websites.  If I know one thing, it's that that's a stupid answer.  I was about to get all technical with this woman and either (a) try to correct her misinformation or (b) fix her website, when it occurred to me:  It's just not worth it.  This issue isn't worth my time, my effort, my stress.  And it's not like I have better things to do with my time, or don't have the energy to fix other people's problems.  I would like nothing better than to fix a mega-corporation's stupid website, saving them time and money so they can continue taking more from my pocket.  But honestly, I just couldn't care less.  And this idea has been coming up again and again in my life lately, when the wheels in my brain start spinning in response to some error or problem.  It's just not worth it. 

So I politely said, "Oh.  Ok.  Thanks for your help," and hung up. #technology

For some reason, the advent of digital cameras brought with it the option to embed the date on the picture itself.  The problem with this is that many people don't know how to properly set the date or time on their camera, so the pictures show the wrong date, and they do so permanently.  Plus, digital picture files store the date and time they were taken by default, so that information is there if you want it.  And honestly, it's ugly.  A beautiful picture is ruined by a big ugly orange or green datestamp. #entertainment

I saw a non-corpse-carrying hearse on the road the other day.  It had bright decals on the side.  I thought to myself, "That's a nice hearse."  I'm probably the only person who's ever combined those two words in a single thought. #travel

A quote from the TV show The Office on winning:  "Andy Bernard does not lose contests; he wins them, or he quits them because they are unfair." #entertainment

Apparently one of the semi-standard add-ons for VW Beetles is flower rims: 



I try not to say this too often because it gives the wrong impression, but they're "cute." #travel

There's a guy who lives in the Brazilian jungle who's the last survivor of an uncontacted tribe of indigenous people, and government officials have designated a 31-square-mile area around him off-limits for the purpose of protecting him and preventing human intervention, the last episode of which ended with a arrow in the chest of one of the interveners.  This sounds a little like that movie the Truman Show, where the main character was unknowingly the subject of a reality show in which everyone around him was a character. #science

Wendy and I rented a house in Seaside Park, NJ for the week last week, and it was every bit as great as we hoped.  It was 90° and sunny for the first few days, allowing us to lay on the beach all day and relax.  Then it was a little rainy and cool for a day, allowing us to see some family and stock up on supplies for the party we threw on Saturday.  Hurricane Earl tried to disrupt our fun, but he only succeeded on Thursday afternoon, when the lifeguards told us we couldn't swim because of "dangerous waves" and "riptides."  Buncha nancies. 

First things first, Seaside Park is a quiet little beach community just south of Seaside Heights, which is where that abomination the Jersey Shore is filmed.  While Heights is a party locale with copious Italians and Axe Body Spray, Park is a family place with quiet streets and clean beaches.  It's the real, authentic Jersey Shore, and it's dreamily peaceful during the week when the tourists aren't there, which is slightly weird for a tourist to say. 

For a variety of reasons (temperature, tides, alien mind-control), there was a slight jellyfish problem.  And by problem, I mean we had to wade through a slurry of whole moon jellyfish and pieces every time we got into or out of the water.  It's certainly a unique feeling to say the least.  Wendy got stung once, but apparently it's pretty rare, since kids were picking them up and throwing them at each other. 

The house we rented was actually the bottom half of a larger home, which was fine, but a little weird when we could hear the owners upstairs stomping around like they'd never lived above anyone before.  But the fact that it had two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a nice outdoor patio and grill made it pretty awesome. 

We brought our bikes, and since it was ridiculously flat, we rode around everywhere.  And by everywhere, I mean across the street to the beach, back to the house for lunch, back to the beach, and to the ice cream place down the street.  Yes, indeed, this is the life. 

On our last day there, I participated in a church-sponsored 5K, except that it took place about 80 miles away, so I set up a "satellite location" where I measured out 3.1 miles with a GPS device, then ran it alone and timed myself.  It was the ultimate conflict of interest.  My time was 24:40, which isn't bad for a white kid, although the only proof that I actually ran was a picture before I left, a picture when I got back, and a smelly t-shirt. 

[gallery /img/2010/09/p0830150214.jpg:::/img/2010/09/p0830150214-150x150.jpg:::Our rental house had a spiral staircase to nowhere.:::/img/2010/09/p0831192429.jpg:::/img/2010/09/p0831192429-150x150.jpg:::Seagull on a pole at sunset.:::/img/2010/09/p0831192525.jpg:::/img/2010/09/p0831192525-150x150.jpg:::A nervous seagull on a pole.  He pooped right after I took the picture.:::/img/2010/09/p0902161845.jpg:::/img/2010/09/p0902161845-150x150.jpg:::Wendy with our nephew Nathan with a chainsaw in his hand approaching a ride at the boardwalk called Crazy Bus.:::/img/2010/09/p0904092724.jpg:::/img/2010/09/p0904092724-150x150.jpg:::A sandpiper taking a break from running from waves and pecking in the sand.  Industrious little creatures.:::/img/2010/09/p0904093047.jpg:::/img/2010/09/p0904093047-150x150.jpg:::A alternate take on "Footprints.":::/img/2010/09/p0904093514.jpg:::/img/2010/09/p0904093514-150x150.jpg:::Jellyfish slurry washed up on the beach.:::/img/2010/09/p0904110634.jpg:::/img/2010/09/p0904110634-150x150.jpg:::Me before the 5K.  Notice the self-made number on my chest:  It's the square root of negative one, which is only funny if you're a nerd like me.:::/img/2010/09/p0904113707.jpg:::/img/2010/09/p0904113707-150x150.jpg:::Me "refueling" after the 5K.  Those new cyclone bottles really work wonders.  Don't worry, it's not really beer.:::]
#travel

I read this book called 1959, which as luck would have it, was all about the year 1959 and the popular trends and noteworthy events that took place therein.  The space race, the cold war, some important writers and artists.  And then there was jazz.  Jazz was equivalent to pop music.  People would go to the bar and dance to jazz music.  Jazz musicians were pop culture icons.  Jazz was the thing, like Lady Gaga, but ... not. 

I have some personal experience with jazz.  I spent nearly a decade playing in a jazz band in high school and college.  I invested quite a few hours and a good deal of effort in the pursuit of this hobby.  It was enjoyable.  I don't regret it.  I even took a jazz appreciation class as an elective in college, and it was great.  It didn't involve math or physics, which was a relief. 

But it took me until about three days ago to just finally come out and say it:  I hate jazz.  I can't listen to it.  It makes my ears bleed.  I can't stand the lack of organization, the spontaneous improvisation, the fact that there's no recognizable tune to get stuck in your head or to hum to someone ("Ya know that Miles Davis song?  It starts off like blah-bluh-bloo-beep-bop.").  Perhaps I've honed my anal retentiveness in recent years more so than my appreciation for jazz.  But thinking back, I never actually listened to jazz music.  I played it.  I heard it while it was happening and I was a part of it.  But I never sat down and listened to it for fun.  Whenever I tried that, I lost interest after about five seconds.  And that never went away.  I want to like it, but it's quite repulsive to me.  It's like C-Span, or investment advice -- I'd pretty much rather jump off a cliff, or at least eat a bug. 

But I think I've reached that part of my life where I feel ok admitting I don't like things that I'm probably supposed to like.  I don't like art.  Any art.  I don't like baseball.  And I don't like jazz.  So eat that. #entertainment

It seems like a desirable thing to have a unified theory of everything that would fix all your personal problems.  For example, I know a person who has been going to a physical therapist because of foot and knee problems.  The knee problems are actually hip problems and the foot problems are a result of both.  And the solution is to do more sit-ups, which sounds ridiculous, but makes a little sense because stronger core muscles would put less stress on the hip flexors or something like that.  The point is that if the physical therapist can find a way to solve all problems with one solution, that would be a really cool thing.  And instead of having ten different fixes for ten different problems, it's nice and neat to solve everything with one simple unified fix. #health

The United Arab Emirates is planning to build a 100 megawatt solar power plant in the middle of the Arabian desert.  You know, the people who sell us oil.  For comparison, it'll produce about 1/20 the amount of power as the Hoover Dam.  But it'll be the largest solar plant in the world.  What I don't understand is why we're not simply filling entire deserts with solar panels and collecting the energy.  Oh right, people like California Senator Dianne Feinstein think deserts should be kept free from development, presumably so we can continue to use them for things like 4-wheeling and RV-ing.  Have you ever been to a desert?  They suck.  Sure, there are a few weird trees and some lizards, but honestly, deserts are pretty awful, hence the negative connotation associated with the word "deserted."  I like what the Governator said:  "If we cannot put solar power plants in the Mojave desert, I don't know where the hell we can put it."  Amen, brother. #science