Diary of a Network Geek

Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht,
Alles schläft; einsam wacht
Nur das traute hochheilige Paar.
Holder Knabe im lockigen Haar,
Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh!
Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh!

Merry Christmas.
It is truly the most wonderful time of year. As I’ve mentioned before, I love this time of year. For me, it is a time of rebirth and renewal. A time of hope. Celebrating the birth of Christ reminds me that I, too, can be reborn. I can start again. Every year, I have another chance to be better than I was last year. More kind, more cheerful, more spiritual, more happy.
My nephew called me this morning to wish me a merry Christmas. My redneck nephew, as I like to think of him. He told me about watching the Texas Chainsaw Masacre last night, to try and shock me, I think. But, I shocked him by telling him all about the history of that film and what inspired it, all without missing a beat. I love my nephew and I’m deeply touched that he knows he can talk to me about anything without rattling me. And, I think it helps that I don’t judge him, either. I doubt he would have felt comfortable talking to anyone else in the family about his father’s drinking problem, so I count myself lucky to have earned that kind of trust from him. When he complained about having to go to church tonight, I did try to explain to him that he might come to enjoy Christmas Eve services again, one day. And, why that might be. Of course, he’s sixteen, so that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. When I thought about how I felt at sixteen, I smiled and moved on to other topics of conversation. At sixteen, he’s not interested in being reborn or renewed. Neither was I.
The older I get, though, the more important this time of year becomes. More important than family or tradition, I need that sense of hope. Hope that the world can be a better place. That I can contribute to making it such. Hope that the new year holds untold opportunity to grow and change. To improve my life and the lives of those around me. And, so, I do things differently than I have in years past. Tonight, I will be in a church on Christmas Eve for the first time in more than ten years. In fact, as I’ve mentioned, I’ll be reading scripture with four other people. My section is from Luke, Chapter Two, verses eight through fourteen:

There were sheepherders camping in the neighborhood. They had set night watches over their sheep. Suddenly, God’s angel stood among them and God’s glory blazed around them. They were terrified. The angel said, “Don’t be afraid. I’m here to announce a great and joyful event that is meant for everybody, wordwide: A savior has just been born in David’s town, a Savior who is wrapped in a blanket and lying in a manger.” At once the angel was joined by a huge angelic choir singing God’s praises: “Glory to God in the heavenly heights, Peace to all men and women on earth who please him.”

Afterward, I’ll come home and have a helping of suet pudding, which my mother sent me this week. Traditionally, my paternal grandmother would make this every year, until she died. Something learned from a Scottish housekeeper they had when my father was a baby. In the morning, I’ll have what’s left of my mother’s infamous orange rolls. Another family tradition. And, I’ll call and talk to family up North. Of course, there will be presents to open, too, though, that’s really secondary to my holiday celebration. My roommate, Doc, is pretty alone this year, except for me, and I hope he’ll be pleasantly surprised by the few, small things I wrapped for him. It’s not much, but, I hope a gesture that will make him welcomed and loved and less alone.
And, then, I’ll pray that the feeling of renewal will stay with me all year long, making every day a chance to start fresh. A chance to reinvent myself in a better way. An opportunity to let more Light into my life and shut out more of the Darkness.
It’s been a good season and a good year, really, all things considered. I’m hopeful that the coming months will be as good. Thank you all for warm thoughts and wishes these past months. I hope you, too, feel renewed tonight. That hope is reborn for your life.
I’ve set this to post about the time I estimate I’ll be reading in church. I probably won’t check on the blog or e-mail until tomorrow, so, I’ll sign off saying:
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.”

(If you want to hear me read this, you can, here. And, yes, I sang that bit in German. I’m not a singer, so don’t judge me too harshly, eh?)

Hey, are you going into the office today?
Well, you can’t possibly plan to do anything that even comes close to looking like work, so why not check out Christmas Combat and the Christmas Elf Game. And, another game from the Elf Movie last year. Does it matter if they’re any good? NO! It’s just a way to waste time before you cut out early for Christmas.
Oh, and while you’re at it, check out the Hacked Animatronic Santa. It’s a riot!
Have fun and be safe!
Merry Christmas everyone!

No, not another silly game.
I’ve been reading a lot of blogs lately. Okay, probably too many and in too much detail, but, still, I’ve seen a pattern emerge. Folks are sure depressed this time of year. Mostly, I’m not, though. Sure, I’ve got mounds of debt, no hope for promotion or salary increase in my current job, I’m single and a little lonely, I miss my step-daughter who won’t talk to me because of lies told to her by her mother, I just had a roommate move in after swearing never to do that again after college, I’d like to lose a couple pounds and I can’t afford to go see my family at Christmas. But, it’s still okay. My life is in a state of change, as is everyone’s. Right now, the universe is roughing off a part of my life that, well, isn’t working well. Not sure what part that is, yet, but that’s what’s been going on for the past year.
So, I’m happy. Why? Well, let’s count the blessings, eh? I have a job that lets me pay my bills. I have my house and my dog. My dog still loves me. I have a good roommate and the extra rent doesn’t hurt. I have no major maladies, physical, mental or emotional. I have family who, despite the stupid things I’ve done and said over the years, still loves me very much. And, frankly, as crazy as it is this year and as dark as things seem sometimes, my life is still better than it was last year at this time.
Hey, there are homeless people out there who would love to have a warm place to sleep. There are guys in jail who would love to have a family to come home to when they get out. There are lots of people who can’t pay their bills at all. So, what do I have to kick about?

Right. So, how do I maintain that? Find someone to help. Simple, isn’t it? Find someone who’s worse off than you, and, yes, there’s always someone, and then help them. Doesn’t have to be big. Doesn’t even have to involve money. Just a little time spent listening can help. Or a hug to someone who needs it. Maybe a few words of encouragement that gets someone over that unbearable hump. We can all make a difference, one little smile at a time.
So, your Christmas Season Advice from your Uncle Jim? You only pass this way once, but you can leave a memory that lasts a lifetime. What kind of memory do you want to leave people? I suggest a smiling face and a kind word. Folks seem to remember that longer than the other.

If anyone needs me for anything, just leave a comment. If you want to keep it private, start the comment PRIVATE! and I’ll make sure it doesn’t post to the blog.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"People may doubt what you say, but they believe what you do."

It’s going to be a long week.
The day’s not even half over and I just want to curl up in a fetal ball under a comforter with the dog and sleep for the next two weeks or so. Maybe I’m getting sick. Or am sick. (I mean catching a cold, you wisenheimers!) But, I can’t get sick. Christmas is coming and I still have to get to my favorite Thai place before it closes and I’m reading the scripture Christmas Eve and…

Oh, yeah, in a moment of weakness, I got suckered into reading scripture. I’ve been practicing my radio voice for the past two days as a result. And, yes, I’ll probably record the scripture that I’m going to read and have it on my website by Christmas Eve.

Now, it’s time for lunch with a chaser of vitamins, aspirin and echinacea. To bed early tonight….

Hey, it’s not too late to get this for Christmas!
Last week, I was talking about a little “hair of the dog”, so it seems like an appropriate time to mention the coolest stuffed toy I have seen in a long time: The Transforming Werewolf Plush. I mean, a toy that turns inside-out and makes a whole other toy?! They didn’t have stuff this cool when I was a kid! This rates right up there with the Cthulhu Plush Slippers and the Cthulhu Claus as my “most lusted after, but totally senseless, gift item”. Another new favorite, is the Giant Tube of Plush Polyhedron Dice, but that’s not as cool as the werewolf. Ah, now, if only I had someone to buy them for me…
Oh, well, maybe I’ll get them for myself next year!

Or, Uncle Jim takes on a boarder.
That’s so much classier than claiming to be a slumlord, don’t you think? Of course, with the state my house is in, it might be closer to the truth! Anyway, I just thought I’d update my gentle readers with the knowledge that “Doc” moved in today. It’s going to be a bit while we rearrange everything, but, I think it will be good once we’re settled. Hilda is getting used to the idea of having someone else in the house, which is good. My poor, brown girl has been so anti-socialized from her time in the clutches of the Harpy that she’s still a little skittish around strangers. (And, trust me, kids, few are stranger that “Doc”! Just kidding, Doc, just kidding.)
Also, Doc brought me clove cigarettes. Now, this might horrify some of you, but, yes, I’ve been smoking a bit. Just one cigarette per day and two on the weekends, but, still… I’ve been under a lot of stress this year and, well, it’s the holidays and… Okay, here’s the deal. I was jonesing for a smoke some time back and, when I told my head-shrink about it, his response was, “Well, it’s not as bad as some of the things you’ve done. Other than the health aspect, of course.” Sheesh! Well, with that kind of encouragement, I lit up again. And quit for a couple of days. And, lit up again. This time, I promise, it’s just through Christmas and, after my current batch runs out, I’ll stop. Again. (Oh, yeah, like anyone reading this blog really cares that much, right? I mean, it’s not like my mother reads this. Whatever.) Sometime I’ll have to explain more about why this time of year tends to inspire me to smoke. Until then, I’ll just remind you that I am Mr. Bad Example. But, what I thought was funny about the clove cigarette thing was that “my people” were taking care of me.
Never ceases to amaze me how folks come out of the woodwork to give me things I need or want or whatever. I’m like the Geek Godfather. My favorite phrase is “Yeah, I think I know a guy.” I’m told you used to hear that on the South Side a lot, back when my Dad was a kid. Regardless, my people always come through for me, no matter how bizarre the request. Sure, sometimes it’s a close call, but, still they always come through. Always. It’s almost enough to make me believe in guardian angels. Almost.

Well, enough update. While Doc settles in some, I’m off to see a The Chronicles of Narnia with another friend. And, with that, I’ll leave you with a quote. As a “prize” for guessing who said it, I’ll vote your way to whoever comes up with it first. (Except for you, Doc. You’re too damn smart for your own good!) Good luck!
“In every real man a child is hidden that wants to play.”

Allow me to explain…
I have recieved word that my sainted mother’s world-famous orange rolls are currently winging their way to me from distant Chicagoland. This might not seem like a big thing, but, believe me when I tell you those orange rolls taste like love.
They’re a holiday staple at that house. Lusted after and coveted all year long. Mom only makes them at either Thanksgiving or Christmas. Never both and almost always at Thanksgiving. They take hours and hours to make, mainly because massive amounts of orange peel must be carefully grated off only the freshest oranges available. They’re deliciously yeasty little rolls all glazed over in a caramelized orange sauce that is pure heaven.
Mom generously made two dozen of them so I could share them with the folks who are taking me in this year for Thanksgiving. I laughed out loud when she told me this.
“Ha! Are you kidding me? Those are all MINE!” I told her.
“Don’t you want to share any with them?” she asked.
“NO! What do they know from orange rolls, Mom? ‘Sides, I’m making bread to bring. They don’t need orange rolls.”
My father, who started this tradition by insisting that she keep making them, some mysterious holiday before I was born, simply laughed his great, roaring belly laugh at my holiday greed. I don’t think he’d share, either, if she’d let him get away with that.

The orange rolls should arrive tomorrow under armed guard via UPS.

Scripture candy and health food?
Oh, you have got to be kidding me! This is no joke, not only is there “Scripture Candy“, but Bible Bars. I can NOT make this stuff up. Now, I’m a fairly spiritual guy and have started attending church on a regular basis again, but, really, I think this is going a little far. Granted, those health-food engergy bars that are based on Bibilical foods are interesting, but are they any better than anything else I might get from Whole Foods? I mean, all-natural and organic energy bars are all about the same to me. Besides, I don’t see any milk-and-honey-and-locust bars there. That is, after all, what John the Baptist was famous for eating, as I recall: honey and locusts. Sure, they’re technically kosher, but, ugh.
Anyway, Christmas is just around the corner, so you might think about these for stocking stuffers.

Aw, c’mon, it’s Friday and you’ve got nothing better to do than read my blog and click the link, so just give in and do it.

on the Netgeek front…
Mainly because I’ve been packing my ex-wife’s stuff up. It’s amazing to me how much stuff one four-bedroom house can hold! I’ve gotten about one to one-and-a-half rooms done, but I have the upstairs bathroom and the Christmas stuff to sort through, not to mention my step-daughter’s room (ex-step-daughter? Hmm…) and all the kitchen stuff. Oh, and all those damned teapots. 30+ teapots that have to be packed with care so they can survive the trip to where she lives now. Fun. Anyway, if you notice a lack of posts for the next month or so, that’s why. I’m packing up the moldy remains of that dead part of my life. On the upside, though, when I get it all done, I can start on the new chapter of my life without the deadweight!
Well, off to work again, packing…

No, not me. I’ve never been.
Nor is it any of my friends, so you all can breathe a sigh of relief, I haven’t ratted any of you out. No, it’s Frank “Frankie Breeze” Calabrese who, according to this article on ABC7Chicago.com, has been ratted out by his own son, Frank Junior, and his brother, Nick. And, he’s not outside now, though he was supposed to get out next year. Now, that has got to be hard time, being turned in by your own kid and brother.
I mention this because I actually met Mr. Calabrese when I was a kid. I call him “Mister”, incidentally, because I call anyone who can kill me, or have me killed by just pointing at me, “Mister”. My dad did business with one of his fronts, a place called FCL Graphics. They were printers and undercut everyone else in the greater Chicago area when my dad needed printing done for a company he managed. We went to a Christmas party there once and I met the whole gang, if you’ll pardon the pun. (Incidentally, the picture in the link is nothing like I remember Mr. Calabrese. It must have been taken in the late 40’s, when he was just getting his start.) He seemed like a nice, older gentleman. A sort of grandfatherly figure. But, I shook hands with him. I must have been all of eight or nine. Old enough to remember it, but not old enough that it’s a really clear memory. Actually, he’s responsible for my interest in origami. He owned the license on a couple of origami books and he sent some home with my dad once. I’m been folding paper cranes ever since.
I got to that news story by way of this article on Slate about “mobster” nicknames, but this story caught my attention, because he’s almost never in the news. The only other time I remember seeing him in the news was when he got caught back in 1995 or 1996, long after my father had stopped using his business. We were all a little surprised at the time, but, in retrospect, it does make sense. How else could he afford to charge such low prices. I mean, they were just criminal…

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"There is no substitute for hard work."
   --Thomas Edison