Diary of a Network Geek

Not sure if this is “good” advice or not, but I’ve certainly found it to be true.

The other night I was flipping through channels and, as I buzzed past either Sundance or IFC, I saw one of the two oldest Marsalis brothers doling out some advice that was given to him by an older Jazz musician. I came in after the interview had started, so I don’t know if it was Wynton or Branford, nor do I know who gave him the advice, but it was significant enough to make me think.

He said, basically, don’t have anything to fall back on.
When someone starts on a path of professional creativity, whether it be musical or otherwise, we’re told that we need to do something else, too, so that we “have something to fall back on”. But, here’s the thing. If you have something to fall back on, then you do, and never truly give everything to that creative endeavor. I know that’s been true for me. I used to write all the time, but, then I got involved in my career and started spending more and more time on that. It’s not a bad thing, as I do fairly well, but the IT stuff is what I do, not the writing. I never really succeeded at writing because, well, I never had to succeed at writing. I had something to fall back on.

So, whatever it is that you want to do, do that. It’s the only way.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"Give others a piece of your heart, not a piece of your mind."

I hate getting CAT scans.

Thursday, I go into M. D. Anderson for the first of four scans this year to see if my lymphoma has come back. Next year, I’ll get three scans and two the year after that. And, from then on, unless the protocol changes, I’ll get a CT scan, with contrast, or a PET scan every year for the rest of my life.

I hope one day it becomes so “old-hat” that I don’t think anything of it, because, right now, I’m about to step sideways out of my skin. I honestly don’t think the last time was as bad as this. Last time, I’d finished treatment just a couple of weeks before the scan, so I was confident that everything was clear. This time, though, I’m nowhere near as sure. I feel good, mostly, except for a lingering runny nose and cough which is probably just a cold and allergies. Probably. I mean, I’m sure when that guy at work asked me why I was so pale that he was just exaggerating for effect. And, when the veins on my arms look funny, it’s just the light and my imagination. And, the fact that I can’t seem to sleep at night, but I’m tired all day is just stress and will go away after I get the results of the scan.

Unfortunately, I won’t get the results of that scan until next week Thursday, so, a week after getting the magic, barium enema that is everyone’s favorite part of a CT scan with contrast, I’ll know the results of that indignity.  The worst part of it all, though, is all that radioactive material that I’ll have dumped into me.  Something about those chemicals just really mess me up inside.  And, no, I don’t mean emotionally.  I’ll probably have indigestion for days afterward.  Not to mention what it’ll do to my lower G.I.
But, eventually, I’ll know.  And, knowing is better than not knowing.

Of course, no matter what the results are, in the end, I’ll deal with it.  I survived the chemotherapy once, so, if I have to do it again, I can survive it again.
But, I do have to admit, the idea of going through another year like last year terrifies me and exhausts me, so I really hope I don’t have to do it.
If you’re the praying kind, I wouldn’t turn any down, no matter what flavor you favor.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"The person who WILL NOT read is no better off than the person who CAN NOT read."

I have two criteria I measure all potential posts against.

Before I post anything even remotely questionable, I ask myself three questions. First, do I care if my ex-wife knows about it? I always assume she’s reading, whether she is or not. It’s easier than obsessing over all the thousand of visitors I get and ways to conceal one’s identity when browsing. So, before I post something about my personal life, I always consider whether or not I’d care if she knew. Mostly, I don’t care, but, every once in awhile, there’s something that I’d rather not have her repeat to her daughter, who already hates me, thanks to my ex-wife’s tall tales. Honestly, there’s not much and it doesn’t happen very often, but, still, I occasionally don’t post things because I’d rather she not know about it.

The second question I ask is whether or not a potential employer or date shouldn’t know what I’m thinking of posting. If I suspect that I might post something that would put off the kind of person I’d really want to be involved with for a long period of time, I don’t post it. And, really, I spend about as much time with an employer as I do a significant other, not including time actually sleeping, so the question is the same. Also, I think the same things that would irritate a potential spouse would probably irritate a potential employer.

The last gauge I use is whether or not I’d tell my mother. In theory, she does read this blog now and again, so she might actually learn something about my life here that I’d rather she not know. Granted, there’s not much that comes to mind that wouldn’t already fall under one of the first two categories, but it is a final check that occasionally rules out a post. For instance, I don’t talk about sex much on this blog not only because it might be off-putting to an employer, but because I’m sure my mother thinks of me as a pre-adolescent, virginal, church-going, innocent boy.
I’m not, of course, but I see no need to disabuse her of that endearing misconception.

What criteria do you all use regarding posting material?
Oh, and don’t tell my mother that I grew up a long, long time ago, okay? Thanks.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"That old law 'an eye for an eye' leaves everybody blind."
   --Martin Luther King

Trying to get back to basics.

So, as many of my long-time readers know, I used to write. Well, I used to write fiction. Oh, okay, I used to write a lot more fiction. But, I get distracted easily. Apparently, so do a lot of writers. It’s very easy for me to get obsessed with formats and customizing displays and so on. More so when I’m having trouble with plots. Or endings. Or, most often, beginnings.

So, when I saw an article on 43 Folders about Scrivener and other simple writing tools for OS X. Sadly, everything he talked about was for Mac only, but he linked to a Slate article on the same subject titled In search of the distraction-free computer desktop, which had a few more options.
Now, I’ve read more books and articles about writing and the writing trade than I care to admit, so I’ve seen a lot of information about different writer’s writing environments and choices. Steven Brust, who writes top-notch fantasy, uses Emacs and macros to export that to Word format to send to publishers. I tend to use OpenOffice Writer, because I can use it on any platform I might find myself and my backup laptop is running Linux. But, the articles talked about several options that I haven’t looked into yet.

One that seemed very popular is called Scrivener, but, sadly, it’s only available for OS X. Another was called WriteRoom and it has a “clone” for Windows called DarkRoom. I liked the look of DarkRoom because it was, well, simple and clean and I’ve just about convinced myself that’s what I need. A simple, clean interface with minimal distraction so that I can get to the business of writing. Finally, there was a Windows-only program called RoughDraft that one of the commenters suggested. It, too, has a clean, simple interface, though it looks more like a old-fashioned Windows file-manager than anything else. And, neither of those options truly addresses the fact that I really want to be able to write on my Linux laptop in a pinch with the same tools and configuration.
So, in the end, I’ll probably just stick with OpenOffice. Perhaps I can find a way to customize and simplify the interface on Writer to my liking. Surely, someone, somewhere, has done this and has a convenient HowTo. If not, maybe I’ll do that myself and write it up.

Then, of course, I’ll have to find another excuse not to write…

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
They say integrity is what we do when no one is watching. What are you doing now?

I have a moral dilemma to pose for my readers.

Now, before I get too far, yes, this is directly applicable to my life, but, no, I’m not going into details on that. I’ve generalized the scenario to protect the innocent, and me.

Okay, so, here’s the scenario…
Say you’ve given up on the on-line dating thing because it’s too easy to find reasons to eliminate people based on silly criteria, like height and what book they last read, right? And, naturally, all the people you know are married or at least involved with someone. Well, except for that one person. Now, let’s assume that you know for sure that they like you and would go out with you if you asked. But, there’s a catch. It would make things socially uncomfortable for you and others to actually date, no matter how things worked out. Maybe it’s because that person is a friend’s ex, or just someone that a good friend really, really doesn’t like, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that it would be hard for you to date them because of your social circumstances.
Now, do you tell your friends to “get over it” and go ahead and date them? Or, do you let your co-dependence with your friends keep you from pursuing your potential happiness? And, is it fair to that person you want to date to put them in that position? I mean, if they’re your friends, they’d cope, right? And, if the person you want to date really is into you, they’d be willing to take the heat, right? But, is that how it would really go down?

So, what do you think?

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"We are what we think. All that arises is with our thoughts. With our thoughts we make our world."
   --Buddha

No.

At least, not according to Bruce Schneier:

Q: All ethics aside, do you think you could make more money obtaining sensitive information about high net worth individuals and using blackmail/extortion to get money from them, instead of writing books, founding companies, etc.?

A: Basically, you’re asking if crime pays. Most of the time, it doesn’t, and the problem is the different risk characteristics. If I make a computer security mistake — in a book, for a consulting client, at BT — it’s a mistake. It might be expensive, but I learn from it and move on. As a criminal, a mistake likely means jail time — time I can’t spend earning my criminal living. For this reason, it’s hard to improve as a criminal. And this is why there are more criminal masterminds in the movies than in real life.

That has to be the best summarization of why I’m not a criminal that I’ve ever read. And, that’s not all he had to say. You can read the rest of the article at the New York Times “Freakonomics” blog.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"The greatest use of life is to spend it for something that will outlast it."
   --William James

I have learned to accept certain things about my life.

I accept that I will never have children of my own.
I very much wanted them and I know I would have made a good father, but it just doesn’t seem to be in the cards for me. So, I’ll be Uncle Jim to all my friends’ kids. I’ll have toys at my house and be the cool, pseudo-uncle that they all love to come visit. And, until they breed, I’ll be the best uncle I can be to my own niece and nephews.

I accept that I will probably die alone.
In the end, don’t we all? I mean, even if there’s someone there with us, we really still die alone. Thanks to the same cancer treatment that sterilized me, I’ll live more than long enough to get my affairs in order, to get out of debt and pre-pay for my funeral and cremation. Hell, I may even get one of those Star Trek urns to be buried in.
I try to keep hope alive and an open mind and all that, but, really, I just have a hard time seeing myself with anyone. I have a hard time picturing anyone who’s interested in being with me. My last hope of possibly starting something with the cute, red-headed federal parole officer pretty well died last night. I overheard part of something that I shouldn’t have and it sounded an awful lot like someone saying “she” wasn’t interested in “him”. And, yes, while that doesn’t mean much, I took it as significant that the two people stopped talking when I walked up and wouldn’t explain further when I asked. I’ll grant that the world doesn’t revolve around me, but, well, sometimes it’s not my ego talking, you know? I don’t think it was in this case.
So, anyway, my point is, if not her, then who? There just isn’t anyone else even on my radar and I got so tired of the bullshit with Match.com that I canceled that last week. I don’t know. I suppose I can always hope for that miracle to happen.

I accept that I’ll never be a famous author.
Sure, I might be the number one hit on Google for Network Geek, but that’s not really fame, is it? And, is this blog even really writing? I may write fiction and even publish it, but I just don’t see myself ever being famous or winning awards. Maybe it’s just the antibiotics and blood thinners talking, but I definitely see myself living a modest life of obscurity. Not that there’s anything wrong with that! Hell, most people don’t get more than that and damn few get that far. At least, at the level of comfort that I enjoy. And, as I sit here typing this on a laptop with my feet propped up next to my digital camera looking at a Japanese sci-fi movie on my HDTV, I am more than aware of just how comfortable I am.

It’s a good life.
It may not be what I imagined or what I dreamed of, but it’s a damn good life and I’ve lived far better than I had any right to expect. I’m lucky, really, to be alive at all.
It really is a good life.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"Small deeds done are better than great deeds planned."
   --Peter Marshall

I’m trying to make my life congruent with my beliefs.

It’s not always easy for me to live morally and ethically. Not that I have such high standards, mind, but, well, sometimes I can be a real bastard.
Back just shortly after starting my first job, I started donating money to the Untied Way via my paycheck at work. At the time, they were running a contest to get more people to give and I won it. That wasn’t my intention when I started giving, but I still enjoyed the vacation I won. A college buddy and I used that vacation to go to Los Angeles and, thanks to my free room nights I got as a benefit of working for Hyatt Hotels, stayed for a week and did a bunch of sight-seeing. One of the places we went was the Hard Rock Cafe, LA. We went because I saw a camera man wearing a letterman-style jacket from there and I just had to own one. My buddy thought it was hilarious that the motto on the front was “Love All, Serve All” because I’d gotten a degree in Marketing and was a well know bastard in college. The idea that I might server anyone, without getting compensated for it, apparently amused him quite a bit.

Well, I’ve grown into that jacket a bit in recent years. Especially since the divorce and surviving cancer. The older I get, the more I find myself wanting to give back a little more to the world at large.
So, when I came into a little money near the end of last year, I decided to give a little more than a third of that to various charitable causes. First, there was someone at church who was in a tight spot due to a nasty divorce. When there was a collection for her, I contributed what for me was a healthy amount. Then, too, I wrote a decent check to my church directly. Those folks really supported me when I was diagnosed with cancer and I was eager to give a little back.
I also donated some money to WordPress, which may be an odd “charity” considering how well they’re doing. But, that was about putting my money where my mouth is. I love WordPress. I used to use other software to blog with, and every once in a while someone suggests others to try, but WordPress has a philosophy that I can really stand behind. That group of folks makes damn good software, and gives it away. That deserves my support, so I gave it.

Finally, in an effort to act globally, I gave some money to Kiva.org. They do micro-loans to small businesses in third-world countries. The loans may not seem like much by American standards, but they can make the difference between prosperity and despair in a small village somewhere.
You can see who I loaned to, and how their business is doing, here:
http://www.kiva.org/lender/james5285
It’s a small thing, to me, but I hope it will make all the difference in the world to them.

So, in short, I’m trying to live up to the arguments I used to make in college about how society should work.  I’m trying to live my beliefs for a change.
I’m doing my best to be the change I want to see in the world.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"Before you give someone a piece of your mind, make sure you can spare it."

A funny thing occurred to me the other day.

So, I’ve been doing a lot of work for my artist friend. Mainly Photoshop stuff and design work, but, still… Anyway, hanging out with him is changing me. In a good way. I find myself more and more concerned with aesthetics. I see art everywhere. My camera is starting to feel like a third eye with which I may yet see miraculous things.
In short, I’m finding myself very connected to the art world in a good way.

Now, I suppose, given time and my sensibilities, I may well end up producing art of my own. Hey! Stop laughing! It could happen! And, if it does, I’m sure Mark, my artist friend, will be more than happy to connect me to the “right” people and proclaim me his latest discovery. Considering his connections, honestly, I should be so lucky.

But, what occurred to me was that my former step-daughter used to really like art. I never got to see that blossom in her. I hope it has. I hope it has and, someday, she’s an artist full-time, like Mark. I hope that one day, she’ll find me again, because I’m known in some small way in the art community and I can help her. I hope that she’ll let me.

It’s just a dream. A sad and lonely one at that, but, I hope one day… Well, it will probably never come to pass, so it’s just a dream. And a dream isn’t real, just a bit of pretty, colored fluff as transient and insubstantial as a late Summer breeze, so what harm is done by dreaming this one?

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"Pay no attention to the faults of others, things done or left undone by others. Consider only what by oneself is done or left undone."

I’m not sure how well I communicate with God.

The other day at one of the men’s group meetings I go to, we were talking about maintaining a conscious contact with God, about our personal relationships with Him. Naturally, that led most of us to talk about prayer. Me? Not so much.
I feel like I’ve stopped talking to God this year. There was a point at which I stopped having anything nice to say, so I stopped talking. In fact, I was a little bit pissed off at God. I mean, I know I haven’t live the best life always, but I just couldn’t imagine what I might have done that deserved the divine retribution of lymphoma. And, really, as a fellow cancer survivor sitting next to me pointed out later, it’s not the disease that’s hard to survive, but the treatment. Take it from me. That is the truth.

Now, it’s important that you understand something. I don’t think that God turned away from me. Though I may not understand His plan or how He works, I knew that God was with me the entire time through treatment. But, I got so angry at Him that I couldn’t pray the way I used to pray. And, I’ve always struggled with the idea that God cares, really, truly cares about someone as small and insignificant as me. Or you, really, so don’t start feeling all sorry for me. I mean, I get that there is a God and that he’s all powerful and created the whole universe and the laws that govern it. That’s not a hard concept for me. Hell, Darwin believed that evolution was evidence that God existed. So, I’m good there.
But, I’ve always struggled with the idea that something so huge could possibly care about me, us, at all. Doesn’t He have larger concerns than that? How could He have the time and patience for our little, flyspeck lives?

So, before my chemotherapy was done, I’d all but stopped praying.
Oh, I still read my morning and evening devotional. And, I still worked through my prayer beads, when I had time and energy. After I started to get back into my normal pattern of life, albeit somewhat altered by my medical “stuff”, I got back into working through rote prayer with my prayer beads almost every morning. But, it was hollow. An empty gesture. A habitual, almost superstitious, pattern of behavior. There just wasn’t anything behind it. No emotion, no connection.

So, with all that in mind, we started talking about prayer and being in touch with God at the meeting.  I listened, and spoke.  Mostly, I talked about how I was afraid to listen to God for fear of what He might say to me.  I was, and am, still afraid that God will challenge me to be more than I am, do more than I’m capable or willing to do.
But, I’m also afraid of what will become of me if I don’t pursue that personal relationship with God.  I know that I won’t last long on my own.  As in “nothing good can come of it”, right?

A couple days later, I was thinking about a conversation I was going to have with a friend.
I wanted to allay his fears that anything might be wrong and I wanted to say it the “right” way.  So, as is my habit, I rehearsed the conversation, trying to work out how to say what I needed to say and what his responses might be.  And, yes, I spoke out loud.  At least, I spoke my half of the imagined conversation out loud.  That’s one of the advantages of living alone.  The dog thinks I’m talking to her and just wags her tail.
In any case, I’ve had this habit of rehearsing important conversations to try out assorted responses and plan out my contingencies.  It’s actually served me well over the years.  I usually have a good grasp of what folks are going to say and how they’re going to react to what I say.  But, somehow, running through all this makes it easier for me.

And that was when something that someone said at the meeting clicked for me.  I don’t think he meant it this way, but it sort of fit me.  It occurred to me that perhaps in doing this conversation rehearsal, what I was doing was talking to God.  Maybe, I was just hanging my friends’ faces on God, to make Him easier to see and hear and talk to, so I could find Him and tell Him, in a way, what was on my mind.  Not as a lowly follower to an all-powerful God, but as a younger, smaller friend seeking help and advice from an older, more worldly, more experienced and capable friend.

So, maybe I’ve been talking to God all along.  Maybe my prayers don’t start with supplication and end in “amen”, but they’re still there.  It’s possible that in my efforts to hide from his message, I’ve found it after all.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"No matter what goes wrong, there is always someone who knew it would."