I’m a phony. Are you? — Via Scott Hanselman’s Computer Zen
How to Make a Living as a Porn Actor
Marc Randazza, First Amendment lawyer who represents porn companies, said about porn: “Honestly, the gay side’s where all the money is. There might be 30 straight guys who can make a living at it, but if you’re willing to get f*cked in the ass, I can get you five grand right now.”
Have More Than One Kid
If you put all your eggs in one basket, it’s easier to keep an eye on that basket, but it’s hard to let go of it . . .
The Cheese Board
Anti-establishment types
One of the highlights of our Berkeley visit was a trip to The Cheese Board for pizza.
We parked on a side street and when we walked around the corner I saw a line of people down the sidewalk.
“What’s that line?” I asked.
“That’s The Cheese Board,” my kid said. “Don’t worry, it goes fast.”
He explained that they only make one kind of pizza per day — always vegetarian — so all you can do is order a slice, a half pizza or a whole pizza and be on your way.
Yesterday’s selection was fresh corn, feta cheese, mozzarella, and cilantro pesto.
Because they serve so fast and the shop is small, there’s not not enough room for all the patrons, many of whom repair to the median on Shattuck Ave. and enjoy their pizza in the shade of the Keep Off Median signs.
Move-In Weekend
It’s Sunday night. We moved the boy in yesterday, had dinner with him tonight, and tomorrow morning, we’re going home without him.
I’ve had some emotional ups and downs this weekend as I cross the gulf between youth and old age. I almost cried five or six times.
I feel great about Berkeley. It’s a college town all the way. Men, women and children are decked out in Cal gear for miles around.
We live in Irvine, which also has a UC campus, but it’s not the same atmosphere at all. “That’s because no one wants to go to UC Irvine,” the boy said.
I feel good that he already knows some people. His best friend from high school is his dorm roommate. We met a couple of other high school classmates, one at a pizza place and one in the parking lot of the guest house. We met friends of friends, brothers and sisters of friends . . .
I feel good that the boy is not the same kind of mopey misfit that I was at his age. That’s really what I feel the best about. He’s polite and confident and his confidence rubs off on me that he’ll be able to handle things.
We dropped him off at the dorm tonight after dinner. I’ve been saying things to him for 18 years, and I couldn’t think of anything to say to him that I hadn’t already said.
I hugged him one last time and he went inside . . .
Lasts
My boy leaves for college tomorrow, so this is my last day as a live-in dad.
I’m happy for him but I’m sad that something I’ve enjoyed so much is ending.
It’s one thing to say, “I’ll be able to deal with that day when it comes,” and it’s another thing to find yourself at that day, dealing with it . . .
A Sound Sleeper
A girl who’s going to be a senior at Northwood came over to the house this morning to borrow my son’s AP U.S. History study guide. He took the class last year.
Last night, he told his mom to wake him up at 8:30.
At 9 this morning, there was a knock on the front door. The boy pulled on a baseball cap, took out his retainer, pasted a big smile on his face and answered it.
He gave the book to the girl and she gave him a doughnut.
When she left, he went back to bed.
“Wake me up at 11:30,” he said to his mom.
“What are you going to do in college when I’m not there to wake you up?” she asked.
“I’ll be fine.”
His mom and I have been waking him up for 18 years.
The past few days, he’s started setting an alarm on his iPhone that sounds like the dive alarm on a submarine. It wakes me up on the opposite side of the house through a closed door, but he’s slept right through it twice. He’s a sound sleeper.
The first time it woke me up, I thought it was a car alarm, then I realized it was coming from inside the house. I walked down to his room and he was sleeping with the alarm going off less than a foot from his face.
I’m not worried about him waking up for class though. That alarm is going to wake up the entire dorm, so one way or another, he’s going to wake up.
Web Governance: Becoming an Agent of Change
It’s about pointing out risks, shining a light on organizational denial, overcoming resistance, and facilitating constructive discussions about change. . . .
We’re facing a stark choice right now: keep whining or start leading. . . .
You might be thinking: “There’s no way I can do this. I’m a designer, developer, or copywriter, not an organizational change maker!” But we can do it, and we should. Because nobody else will do it for us, and if nobody deals with the problem, we won’t be able to do great work.
Japanese and Korean Are the Same Thing
My son and I are driving through the neighborhood . . . an Asian kid about 12 years old rides by on a scooter. He lives across the street from us but I almost didn’t recognize him because he’s got his hair lightened and highlighted.
“Typical Japanese,” my son says.
“Japanese kids like to highlight their hair?”
“Yeah,” he says, like it’s an obvious question.
“That kid is Korean, isn’t he?”
“Same thing.”
Is it so bad, then, to be misunderstood? Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be great is to be misunderstood. — Ralph Waldo Emerson
Pregnant Woman Mauled to Death by Pug
Ha ha, just kidding . . . it was a pit bull — again.
Reports: Pet pit bull mauls pregnant Calif. woman to death
Her dad said, “She lived her own life, no matter what anyone else said.”
Probably everyone said that pit bulls are dangerous so she decided to get one.
How’s that working out for you?
If you own a pit bull, you also need to have a pug to keep the pit bull in line.
— Lightning 
A Half-Assed Job of Anything
It’s enough to make you cry to see how bad most people are at their jobs. If you can do a half-assed job of anything, you’re a one-eyed man in the kingdom of the blind.
Drink Recipe
This is a great drink to beat the heat and smooth out market volatility.
Pour some rum over ice and top it off with cola. Garnish with a lime wedge (optional).
I need to think of a name for this . . .
A Long and Short Explanation of Why Borders Books Went Out of Business
Borders, unable to find a buyer willing to get it out of bankruptcy, plans to close its remaining 399 stores and go out of business by the end of September.
“When Borders started up 40 years ago,” I explain to my son, “there was a certain percentage of the American public that bought books and read them.
“It wasn’t nearly as large as the percentage who preferred to sit on their fat asses and watch television but it was there. There was a profit to be made from it.
“Today, if I tell someone about a book I’m reading, they look at me like I’m confessing a perversion. Reading a book?!
“Not only does no one read books but if anyone does get a notion in their head to read one, they’re likely to buy it online and/or download it onto a device.
“The market for people who walk into a store and buy a book has dried up like a raisin.”
“Books, schmooks,” the boy replies.
A Story from the Aztec People of Mexico
It is said by our Grandparents that a long time ago there was a great fire in the forests that covered our Earth. People and animals started to run, trying to escape from the fire. Our brother owl, Tecolotl, was running away when he noticed a small bird hurrying back and forth between the nearest river and the fire. He headed toward this small bird.
He noticed it was our brother the Quetzal bird, Quetzaltototl, running to the river, picking up small drops of water in his beak, then returning to the fire to throw that tiny bit of water on the flame. Owl approached Quetzal bird and yelled at him: “What are you doing brother? You are not going to achieve anything by doing this. You must run for your life!”
Quetzal bird stopped for a moment and looked at owl, and then answered: “I am doing the best I can with what I have.”
It is remembered by our Grandparents that a long time ago the forests that covered our Earth were saved from a great fire by a small Quetzal bird, an owl, and many other animals and people who got together and put out the flames.
Work-Life Balance Doesn’t Exist
Look, we know the baby boomers failed at work-life balance. We know it doesn’t exist. So let’s just start talking about things that are real. . . . You can have kid-centered days or you can have career-centered days. You can’t have both. Let’s just stop lying to ourselves because it’s not helping anyone.
The Common Good
Therefore the Master says:
I let go of the law,
and people become honest.
I let go of economics,
and people become prosperous.
I let go of religion,
and people become serene.
I let go all desire for the common good,
and the good becomes common as grass.
A Man with a Grievance
I wanted to be unhappy by myself. I wanted to grieve for Papa. That man suffered a lot. Even more than my poor mother who had to watch him suffer. For she had seven children to worry about as well, and children are a duty. Whereas a broken-hearted man with a grievance is only a liability, a nuisance. And he knows it too.
Aside
Scott Adams on the Benefits of Boredom – WSJ.com
Travels With Charlie
My owner and I were out for a walk when we heard Charlie the Basset Hound behind us. He was howling and he was all by himself.
“Hey Charlie,” my owner said, “what are you doing out here by yourself?” Then he said to me, “We’ve got to take Charlie home.”
We don’t know where Charlie lives but we know what direction he lives in and it wasn’t the direction he was going, so my owner got him turned in the right direction and then said, “Come on Charlie, let’s go for a walk.”
At first, he walked behind us and kept howling but then he stopped howling and started walking faster and went ahead of us. After we went a couple of streets, he turned and walked up to a front porch and started howling again.
The lady who answered the door was sure surprised to see Charlie on the porch.
“Does he live here?” my owner asked.
“Yes,” she said. “Where was he?”
“He was up the street a bit. We started walking him in this direction and he came home. Was there a reward posted?”
Meanwhile, Charlie had gone inside and then came back out on the porch and started howling at us some more to tell us he was home . . .
— Lightning