The Boston Diaries

The ongoing saga of a programmer who doesn't live in Boston, nor does he even like Boston, but yet named his weblog/journal “The Boston Diaries.”

Go figure.

Monday, October 07, 2002

Lessons learned

I ended up learning the hard way that the water pressure here at the Facility in the Middle of Nowhere does not have the pressure required to drive an industrial strength water hose nozzle; nothing is more pathetic than a dribble of water from a nozzle when one is expecting a rushing tourrent.

Okay, maybe a wet cat is more pathetic, but not much else.

Next time, get the non-industrial water hose nozzle.

A small karmic payback

I know what it's like being stuck in the middle of nowhere; 5½ years ago I found myself in the middle of Georgia in a car with a seized up transmission. Being 500 miles from home is bad enough.

It's worse when half-way between Christmas and New Years Eve.

On the weekend.

But due to the kindness of quite a few people I didn't know (like the tow truck driver who never did charge me for towing) and quite a few people I didn't know in person (some friends I met over the Internet drove the three hours south from Atlanta to pick me up) I was able to enjoy the rest of my vacation and get home (I arranged a ride with a couple down to Disney; from there I was on my own, which is a story for another time).

Chuck didn't have it quite as bad.

Chuck, a high rise window washer (which made for some interesting conversation during the drive) who hails from Ohio, found himself stuck in Miami, having missed the last Tri-Rail train. My friend Greg found him there (as he too, missed the last Tri-Rail train out of Dodge Miami). Chuck needed to get to the Tri-Rail station serving the Ft. Lauderdale/Hollywood International Airport so the two of them shared a taxi (which Greg expensed to his company, since he was down in Miami on business).

It was from there that I met Greg and Chuck to give them a lift.

Actually, I was only expecting to give Greg a lift.

But to save Chuck from riding his bike nearly 10 miles, at night, up hill all the way (okay, so maybe not up hill) I gave him and his bike a lift.

Wednesday, October 09, 2002

The Leap

I've been playing around with the digital camera the past couple of nights trying to find the optimal settings for digital night photography. I was outside in the court yard when I snapped a picture of Spodie leaping to the top of the gate.

The gate (and the surrounding fence) is as tall as I am; I find it amazing that he can jump up that high.

Then again, I found it amazing that he could balance a bowl on a pot handle.

The $95,000 check

A few years ago I came across the story of Patrick Combs depositing a fake check for $95,000 and having it actually clear but at the time he had yet to finish telling the story.

Time passed. I lost the link. Couldn't find it again, until now. I was reading the journal of Amanda Robbins (who is the girlfriend of my friend Kurt, the high school English teacher turned plumber) when she linked to it!

Of course, the story is now finished—he ended up giving the check back to the bank, but only after they furnished him with a latter detailing their mistake in cashing it and apologizing to him. And I suspect doing such a stunt today wouldn't work.

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[The future's so bright, I gotta wear shades]

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