Stupid People and Their Stupid Dogs

 
Lightning on the sofa

A guy brought a laser pointer to the dog park tonight so his retarded dog could chase the beam around like a nitwit.

He tried to get my dog to chase it, but the dog just looked back at him to see where the beam was coming from, which is the intelligent thing to do in that situation.

“The pug doesn’t see it,” the guy said.

“He sees it,” I explained, “but pugs are too smart to chase light beams.”

“What does being smart have to do with it?” Laser Guy asked.

“Would you run around the park chasing after a laser beam?” I asked. “You wouldn’t. You know why? Because it’s stupid. You can’t catch it. Chasing after a ball or a frisbee makes sense. I’ve done that myself. But running around after a light beam is just moronic.”

Santayana: “I Told You So”

 

Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.

— George Santayana
 

“Is that a fact?” she said. “Well–I’ve got news for Mr. Santayana: we’re doomed to repeat the past no matter what. That’s what it is to be alive. It’s pretty dense kids who haven’t figured that out by the time they’re ten.”

“Santayana was a famous philosopher at Harvard,” said Slazinger, a Harvard man.

And Mrs. Berman said, “Most kids can’t afford to go to Harvard to be misinformed.”

— Kurt Vonnegut, Bluebeard

People I Thought Were Dead

 

Updates

  • Gene Barry – died 12/9/2009, age 90
  • Orson Bean – died 2/7/2020, age 91
  • Van Cliburn – died 2/27/2013, age 78
  • Richard Dawson – died 6/2/2012, age 79
  • Bo Diddley – died 6/2/2008, age 79
  • Patti Page – died 1/1/2013, age 85
  • Jean Stapleton – died 5/13/2013, age 90
  • Abigail Van Buren – died 1/16/2013, age 94

My Neighbor the Fisherman

 
Fisherman

My neighbor across the street is a very serious fisherman. He’s got, like, 15 fishing rods in a rack in his garage, one for every occasion.

Does he ever take any of his family members along on his fishing trips? No . . . on his list of priorities, they rank somewhere below fish.

I suspect his wife has a fish-head mask she puts on when she wants to get his attention . . .

Going to the Temple

 

My wife makes an occasional visit to one of the local Buddhist temples, and sometimes she “encourages” the rest of the family to join her.

“Thanks for coming along,” she says on the drive over.

“You made us come,” our son says from the back seat. Then after a pause, “But you’re welcome.”

Adventures in Driving

 

We’ve just had another of the near-death experiences so common when my wife gets behind the wheel of a car.

“Driving with you is a real adventure, honey,” I say.

“Not in a good way,” our son adds.

She wears multiple combinations of glasses and contact lenses, but her standard explanation — “I can’t see!” — is not as reassuring as she seems to think it is.

Some People Should Be Allowed to Work at Their Own Pace

 

Speaking of motivation, today’s Orange County Register has a story about a guy who really knows — or knew — how to light a fire under his employees.

According to the story, Woo Sung Park, a landscaping supervisor, told day laborer Ernesto Avalos that he, Avalos, was not pulling his weight on the job. The pep talk so energized Mr. Avalos that he beat Mr. Park to death with a shovel and a pickax.

This happened right here in Irvine! Tragically, one of my rich neighbors is now two men short on his beautification project . . .

What Hockey Players Are Supposed to Smell Like

 

My wife is commenting on the smell of our son’s hockey bag. “You need to air that out sometimes,” she tells him.

“Hockey players aren’t supposed to smell like perfume,” he explains.

“What are they supposed to smell like?” I ask him.

“Sweat and toil,” he says. “Broken bones. And dried blood.”

Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller

 

Somehow the realization that nothing was to be hoped for had a salutary effect on me. For weeks and months, for years, in fact, all my life I had been looking forward to something happening, some extrinsic event that would alter my life, and now suddenly, inspired by the absolute hopelessness of everything I felt relieved, felt as though a great burden had been lifted from my shoulders.

 

Nothing that had happened to me thus far had been sufficient to destroy me; nothing had been destroyed except my illusions, I myself was intact. The world was intact.

 

If now and then we encounter pages that explode, pages that wound and sear, that wring groans and tears and curses, know that they come from a man with his back up, a man whose only defenses left are his words and his words are always stronger than the lying, crushing weight of the world, stronger than all the racks and wheels which the cowardly invent to crush out the miracle of personality.

Mallet Men

 

My son’s junior high school has two bands, Symphonic Band and Concert Band. You could think of them as the varsity and the JV. Membership in the Symphonic Band is by audition only.

Percussionist

Because the boy changed instruments from saxophone to percussion last summer, after the Symphonic Band auditions, he has to play in the Concert Band this year.

I don’t think he’s happy about it, but he’s taking lessons and practicing and trying to get better.

This week, we had All-City Honor Band tryouts. All five percussionists from the Symphonic Band tried out, and four of them made it. My son also tried out and made it — as first chair. He’s the best junior high percussionist in Irvine.

Don’t give up on your dreams, kids!

I too played percussion in junior high and high school, where I was known far and wide as the Fast-Hand Mallet Man. So the kid has good genetics, obviously . . .

When is a Release Not a Release?

 

On this morning’s enterprise IT conference call, one of our project managers announced the successful release of Project Foobar.

Then a woman’s voice — I assume it was the business owner — came on and said, “We had to pull that back out.”

“Is that true?” the PMO manager asked.

The project manager continued on in the same tone as before: “We had to pull it out after release. The customers are using a manual workaround until we resolve the issues.”

Business owners rarely participate in these calls. I assume that had this particular business owner not been on the call, the minor detail about backing out the release would never have been mentioned.

Believe it or not, an argument then ensued regarding whether this could be credited as a successful release, with the additional work considered as “post-release” effort.

How Long Should it Take to Define a Project?

 

Project X hit a milestone called Vision/Scope seven months ago, 99 days late. It’s 312 days late on the current milestone, which is called Definition.

To date, the project has consumed 36,000 labor hours — 18 person-years — and $2.5 million.

At this morning’s enterprise-level status meeting, it was decided that Project X will be put on indefinite hold, as it is no longer a strategic priority.

This reminded me a lot of an article I read a few days ago:

What the waterfall does well is to keep useless projects from resulting in useless code that needs to be maintained. I’m not sure if that’s the real purpose, but it’s certainly a great side benefit. It may sound inefficient to pay a lot of engineers to get started on projects, do a bunch of analysis and design, and finally abandon the whole thing when something else becomes a higher priority, but every line of code they don’t write is another line that can’t break!

OK . . . you could make a case that waterfall “worked” here — clearly if, after 18 years of effort, people can’t even define the project, that sounds like a project that has no chance of success and shouldn’t be attempted — but it worked at a cost of $2.5 million.

That doesn’t seem very efficient.

What I find is that if you put the customer, the technical team and other appropriate representatives together for as little as four to eight hours, à la a Sprint Planning Meeting, it should be obvious whether or not anyone understands the problem well enough to go ahead and attempt a software solution.

Thus spoke The Programmer.