News
  Nav Menu
Site Search

Find any page
SiteMap

Feedback
[email protected]
 Information about Ty Davison straight from the horse's mouth.
 Years worth of mind-numbing details, ponderings, and events.
 External URLs that have cropped up in the course of the News history.

 Previous
August
Next 

 

 August 31, 2001

 
I spent the morning working on the site redesign. I've now got the News and Macintosh sections finished (sorry but both Archives are likely staying in the old style). On the whole, I'm pretty happy with the new look. I think it cleans things up a lot, adds a lot more visual interest, and makes navigation a snap.

In terms of that last element, I think navigation has always worked pretty well here with the pull-down menu. I'm hoping that the prominent placement of the Site Search and the SiteMap will lead more people to take advantage of those tools as well. I've got almost five years(!) worth of crap to explore here, so if you're looking for something, the search box makes it fairly easy. It even ranks results by relevance, something I can't do without the aid of map, compass, and several shots of NyQuil.

Those who want to be "in the know" will enjoy this next tidbit: The search engine indexes the site weekly, every Thursday evening. Those who don't want to be "in the know" have just had some miscellaneous fact spilled out of their brain, the space now occupied by my search engine trivia. A lower IQ is surely the result. Sorry.

I don't know how many people take advantage of the SiteMap, but it could prove a pretty handy navigation device. It lists every page on the site, and it gives you one-click access to any one of them. The caveat here is that this is an owner-maintained system, and I occasionally biff things up and forget to add to the SiteMap. I've been pretty good lately, so I think everything's in order. If not, do let me know, and I'll make it so, as Picard would say.

Speaking of "making it so," you should also feel free to drop me line to let me know what you think about the redesign. If you absolutely hate it, well, too bad for you. Try to be positive anyway. And if you have any constructive criticism—particularly if you're talking about changes that are easily implemented—I'm all ears.

As always, thank you for tuning in. I appreciate you taking the time to stop by, especially when you could be doing more substantive and life-changing things, like watching the Drew Carey Show or playing video games.

 

 August 30, 2001

 
I've reached the undeniable conclusion that Cascading Style Sheet (CSS) are almost a complete waste of time and money given the way various web browsers display things. I labored literally for hours trying to make them work, but as soon as something worked in Internet Explorer, lo and behold, it looked like junk in Netscape. Some day CSS might be a neat thing, but it's not today.

Another item on my "yikes!" list is Adobe GoLive 5. As some of you may recall, I was a relatively early adopter of GoLive CyberStudio 3, a graphical web design program well-ahead of its time. If only it hadn't crashed at seemingly random intervals and with dreadful frequency, it would've been great.

Adobe bought out GoLive a few years back, changed the aptly titled software from CyberStudio to the puzzling GoLive, and upgraded it to version 4. GoLive 4 was not a barnburner in terms of features. Indeed, it does very little that CyberStudio 3 doesn't. But it was very stable, making it an excellent design tool even if it was slowly bypassed in features by Macromedia Dreamweaver.

Adobe GoLive 5 is another story altogether. It adds a raft of features—many but not all of them next to useless—and returns the crash-happiness of CyberStudio 3. This is decidely not a step forward.

So I've spent the day redesigning the News section of the web site trying to get CCS to work and failing and suffering multiple migraine-inducing system crashes along the way. In short, it's not been the a fun experience I'd hoped. But I think most will (I pray) agree that the News section is improved.

I've graphically offset every News entry, highlighted the date a little more, made the News Archives and News Links hyperlinks a little more accessible, and added one-click access to the top of the News page. Hope you like it; it was more work than I intended!

 

 August 28, 2001

 
We received our George W. Bush-promoted tax rebate of $600 today, the same day that it was announced that the government will probably have to dip into the Social Security Trust Fund for $9 billion. As much as I like getting free money in mail, the Bush tax bill was the stupidest, most ill-conceived bit of legislation to come down the pike in years. This is money that could've been used for education, the environment, to pay down the national debt, or—as it now appears necessary—to ensure the solvency of the Social Security system. I've never been so unhappy about a tax refund.

For our part, Erin and I figure that the best expenditure of the dollars for us is to stick the money into our Roth IRAs. If you figure that neither of us is likely to be full beneficiaries of Social Security, we best have something to count on in our old age.

 

 August 26, 2001

 
I spent the day at Matt and Ginger's helping Matt take down the laurel bushes on the side of his house. Despite the eager work of my chain saw (aka Mr. Happy), this was long, ardous work. Matt and I were both surprised how much work it took.

There was one laurel bigger than anything that existed in my backyard, and its tree-like size made for some interesting times. Nonetheless, it was nothing that five or six hours of climbing, sawing, and dragging couldn't solve. (Though that includes a timeout for lunch and Ginger's excellent taco salad.) I also must confess to having a fair amount of fun in climbing up high enough to see rooftops. Hadn't done that since I was a kid, and it was neat!

Anyway, after getting cleaned up, we hung a couple mirrors inside and transferred MacOS 8.6 to Matt's B&W G3/300 school computer. Pretty solid day's work if I do say so myself.

In the evening Erin and I watched the very intriguing Dark City, a science fiction film noir flick with similarities to both Blade Runner and The Matrix. I found it philosophically engaging, though the "why are things happening?" question begins to get a little old as a device for plot momentum after awhile. As a bonus, film critic Roger Ebert has a commentary track on the DVD, and I found his comments very worthwhile (by which I mean that my enjoyment of the picture was aided by having listened to him—in contrast to many of these commentary tracks).

There's not a lot I can say about the plot of Dark City without giving things away, so I'll leave it at this: In a great many ways one could argue that Dark City is almost a template for The Matrix, the two sharing a great many plot points, themes, and styles. The latter is certainly more jazzed up in terms of music and special effects, but Dark City ain't bad either. Recommended.

 

 August 25, 2001

 
Erin and I met Jim and Terri in Albany, drank a delicious vanilla shake at Burgerville, then hopped in their Honda Passport and headed for the beach. Once at Newport we really did little more than bask in the sun and admire the blue sky and the pretty ocean waves. I, idiot that I am, also sizzled like a piece of bacon, but the less said about that better.

In the late afternoon we headed over to the wharf, said "hello" to the sea lions, and perused the various knick-knacky shops. Jim and Terri picked up some cat toys at one of the stores; Erin and I didn't see anything that struck our fancy. We were just happy to have a day off with friends.

 

 August 22, 2001

 
West Coast Tree Care had three guys swinging from the branches around the house all day today, and the end result was amazing to see. All the dead oak branches are gone, the Ponderosa pine is history, the little fir by the driveway is kaput, and so on. The amount of light now reaching the yard and the house is really something.

We did start the day with some interesting moments, however. Turns out that the top step going to the backyard had a yellow jacket nest in it. We cracked open the top step, and I poured a bunch of gasoline on the swarm (which, regular or unleaded, results in death from above). Erin ran off to Fred Meyer and brought back some kick-butt wasp killer in a can. I was happy to use this liberally on their home. Despite all the wood falling out of the sky, the top step of our stairs was the only casualty of the day.

I've been conducting a crime survey for the Salem Police Department, an activity which I'm not at liberty to talk a whole lot about specifically. I will say that it harkens back to the few dark days I spent as a telemarketer for OSPIRG, which is another way of saying I'm never doing this again.

You would not believe the number of people who don't have 10 minutes to participate in a telephone survey aimed at improving law enforcement and bettering their community. Indeed, whenever anyone tells me "no," I find myself thinking, "And that is why you live in fear."

I've also had one person with Caller ID call me later, begin the conversation sans "hello," and immediately ask "Who is this?" I kept my wits about me and resisted the temptation to reciprocate the rudeness, but one really must wonder just what kind of a response a person can expect with such behavior.

I mean, yes, I called your number and you weren't home. If you had been, I would've identified myself and gone through the whole survey schpeel. If you had answered the phone at the time, you could've been rude to me then. You weren't. Caller ID doesn't give you a right to put your contempt on layaway, held in reserve until you can get to the phone and dial me up at a later time. [Sure she had time to dial me up; she just didn't have 10 minutes for a survey.]

And if being inconsiderate wasn't your point, what was? If I had been a telemarketer, well, your call back renders the Oregon Do Not Call List impotent. I mean, it doesn't apply if you call me. Or what if I had dialed a wrong number. All of the sudden my wrong number has become the telephonic equivalent of an email virus.

Ultimately, you got Caller ID so you'd know who was calling you. If you don't recognize the number, odds are pretty good that if you're calling them back anyway, you're unclear on the whole Caller ID concept.

And that is why you live in fear. Hehe.

 

 August 21, 2001

 
The City of Salem was nice enough to send out a 10-person inmate crew today to clear out a lot of the remaining blackberry bushes on the park side of our property. They also removed the dead birch tree in the park and, as Erin pointed out to me yesterday, pruned the diadora cedar out front of our house while we were away camping. All in all, I'd have to say that things are shaping up nicely thanks to (1) the City's work, (2) our own work, and (3) especially since we've got West Coast Tree Care out here tomorrow.

We hacked at the laurel bushes a little bit more in the late afternoon and figure to be about done with them. Our view down into the park has improved markedly and the corner where we've got the woodshed and compost pile can stay secluded by laurels for all I care.

We'll probably do a little more yard work and landscaping in the coming years, but I doubt it will be anything on the order of this summer—at least until after we remodel some of the house.

 

 August 20, 2001

 
After an abortive stop at Giovanni's Pizza in Mill City, we returned from Detroit this afternoon, sorted through the camping gear and the food, and bid adieu to one another. I hope that we can go camping again before too long. Since five of our eight campers are teachers or in education, it might not be a feasible event until next summer vacation, but I'll continue to hope that it's sooner. I had a lot of fun.

After a much needed shower, I went in for a Red Cross blood donation. Happily, this was the quickest, most pain-free donation I've ever had. (If only they could all be this way.) I'm closing in on four gallons donated for whole blood, and while that doesn't put me in line for sainthood (does it? Somebody LMK if it does), I'm happy that I've been able to help people.

We watched Tim Burton's Sleepy Hollow, a rewritten story of the Washington Irving classic. Stylistically one can rarely fault Burton's imaginative art direction or cinematography, and Sleepy Hollow is no exception. This is an oddly beautiful film visually, and one rarely says that about a horror flick.

Nonetheless, if you've seen any of Burton's other films, you know what's coming: The plot and characters are undeveloped, and the picture should have been better than it was. Some subplots, notably the one involving Katrina's boyfriend, should have been axed completely. Several deleted scenes which appear in the "Making Of" short on the DVD really should have been in the film. The editing of the picture was a little weak. There's also some gruesome violence, but that's hardly unexpected here.

Johnny Depp is excellent, and the supporting cast does well. In the hands of a better director, this could have been really something. As is, Burton's given us a fantastic visual film with the same flaws that virtually all his pictures exhibit. Still, I liked Sleepy Hollow more than most, and more than I expected.

 

 August 17–19, 2001—Detroit Lake Campground, Oregon

 
Dennis, Maria, Matt, Ginger, Joe, Carol, Erin and I took off for the Detroit Lake Campground on Friday afternoon. For me, this adventure represented the first camping I'd done in years, and despite the creature comforts of the campground (electrical hook-ups, showers, full bathrooms), the experience was a welcome reintroduction to the out of doors. It was also a successful test of my new sleeping bag and Thermarest.

We arrived at Detroit to find the campground packed. We rented two camp sites at $19 a night each. All of Detroit Lake's camp sites are relatively close together, which worked well for gathering our eight-person group but not so well for getting away from other campers.

Detroit Lake has suffered notably during this drought season, and volume of water absent this year was truly remarkable. You can see stumps and wildflowers a-plenty where normally powerboats cruise and waterskiers tumble. The swimming area buoys lay on dry ground and the park's boat launches are closed. Add to this the complaints of Detroit-area businesses that the drought has caused a record-breaking economic slump, and one would think you might ghost town-like conditions. And you would—but not on weekends.

We ate very well over the course of our stay. With several ex-Scouts or outdoorsy types in the group, we had a series of great campfires (except that the smoke always seemed to follow me—somebody do something about that next time, ok?). By firelight, we roasted marshmellows and made doughboys (essentially roasted biscuits dipped in melted butter and rolled in cinnamon and sugar). By propane stove, we cooked all kinds of meals. We ate plenty of trail mix, too.

The weather proved very cooperative. The mornings and evenings were only mildly cool, and quite unlike the harsh mountain crispness I've encountered on other occasions. The mid-day was usually pleasantly warm. On the whole, I'd say we really couldn't have asked for better weather.

On Saturday morning, the four guys headed over to the campground basketball court, an unexpected recreation area, to take part in a tournament. The turnout for the tourney was over 50 guys, and a number of the players were fairly good. I am happy to report that none of the women from the camp out were there to watch our poor, ego-deflating performance. For my part, I made two decent shots, hoisted a couple other terrible ones, and played the worst defense ever seen. The silent, masculine postgame consensus seemed to be that the less basketball discussed during the weekend, the better.

Afternoon was nap and shower time for me. I'd been a touch sleep-deprived coming into this adventure thanks to SiteRev.com work during the weekdays, and despite the Thermarest, sleeping outdoors in a tent takes some getting used to. Afternoon naps—a pleasant experience which I wouldn't mind incorporating into daily life—seemed to be a common activity for a number of my camping compatriots.

Despite not having a clear grasp on the rules, we played some kick-the-can around the campsite as dusk fell. There were several inspired bits of strategy by players as darkness made it impossible for the guard of the can to distinguish faces and to find people among the shadows of the trees. It was a lot of fun.

On Sunday, Joe, Carol, Erin and I took Joe and Carol's dogs, Porter and Hampton, on a roughly five mile hike around the very beautiful Breitenbush Hot springs area. I certainly wouldn't mind doing some more hiking and/or camping in this area.

We returned to the base camp to find that most of our neighboring campers had checked out. Having the campground almost to ourselves was a different and certainly a quieter experience. Ginger brought out the Ray Bradbury short stories to read by the campfire, and I thought the relative silence of the area aided their effectiveness.

Prior to the night's campfire experience, Erin lined us up a picnic table for an eyes-closed taste test of eight different candy bars. My recollection is that Carol was the winner with seven out of eight, but I was on too much of a sugar high by that point to recall anything clearly except that I failed to pick out Baby Ruth which I normally consider my favorite.

Over the course of our stay at Detroit, I was consistently surprised by the number of Oregon State Police and Forest Service patrols. I dare say that we were safer at Detroit than we are at home. As legalistically minded as I am, I was also impressed by the stringent enforcement of the park's 10 PM to 6 AM quiet hours. I know I slept better as a result.

  

 August 16, 2001

 
Yes, at long last I've finished Clifford Stoll's Silicon Snake Oil, a book Dennis lent me months ago. It's a meditative and somewhat rambling treatise on the perils of technology. Stoll make many valid and salient points along the way, though one wishes occasionally for a little more linear coherency in the presentation. Since the book was written in 1995, it's also clear that a number of Stoll's prognostications have not panned out. That doesn't mean he's wrong in a lot of what he's said, though, and this thought-provoking work is well-worth the read.

Special thanks to Bret for doing up a little CAD (Computer-Aided Design) drawing or two of our house. It's the first step toward a full-blown blue print, and the best we can do since nothing is on file with the City of Salem.

 

 August 15, 2001

 
Yesterday was another exhausting day of attacking the laurel bushes. One more day of action should probably do it. It better anyway, 'cause I'm getting exhausted.

I was a beta tester for some Mac software recently, and I'm happy to inform all the Mac users out there that the test has concluded and I can start to reveal some of the behind the scenes info. Firstly, the software (as many of you surmised) was Intuit software's Quicken for Mac 2002. I'll be receiving a copy of the final release shortly and have lots to say after it arrives.

 

 August 13, 2001

 
Interesting news on the tree trimming front: The big diadora cedar by the driveway belongs to the city. This means that we don't have authority to remove it, and, having talked at length with the city guy in charge of tree trimming and removal, we're not likely to get permit approval to have it removed. In short, the city has a presumption that healthy trees ought not be cut down, and no matter how yucky and ugly we might think this tree to be, disease and danger are the only two voting issues.

On the whole, I can't say that I really fault the reasoning here, and I don't think it's terrible that the tree is spared. The city will be sending out a crew to trim the thing anyway, so perhaps that will lessen our problems with needles and cones everywhere come late summer/early fall. We'll see.

We did a little more trimming out back yesterday, but at this stage it's mostly going after blackberry bushes. That's a much slower process than the laurels since I can't use the chain saw. I've been stuck repeatedly be thorns, but I suppose that's par for the course.

Got word today that the Red Cross is instituting a temporary exclusion of any blood donor who has

  1. lived in the United Kingdom for a cumulative total of three months since 1980; or
  2. lived in any European country or combination of countries (including the United Kingdom) for cumulative total of six months since 1980; or
  3. received a blood transfusion in the United Kingdom since 1980.

It's that second item that now disqualifies Erin (who lived in France for a year). I'm almost nixed on the basis of both one and two, but I barely slide under the wire. I'm sure the Red Cross knows what they're doing, but by their own estimate this disqualifies 8 percent of their current donor pool—some 400,000 people.

Coming at a time when blood donations are urgently needed, I'm not convinced this is the smartest move in the world. Still, they do have a responsibility to keep the blood supply safe, and my understanding is that this exclusion of donors will only last until a test for Mad Cow Disease can be developed. How long that is, who knows.

In the meantime, our attitude is that we're not going to stop living our lives the way we want just so that we can continue donating blood. Erin's been made temporarily ineligible thanks to living in France; I will likely be ineligible after my next visit. That won't stop me from going.

Received a letter from the Salem Education Association today with details on next year's health care costs. Bottom line: up 48 percent over last year. (Ouch!) So the Association has jettisoned some features, taken higher deductibles, fiddled and futzed with things for the benefit of the membership. In the end, most plans see price increases of between 24 and 28 percent and, as I say, with fewer benefits.

Let it never be said that teachers are in it for the money.

 

 August 11, 2001

 
I was planning to head up this evening to stay over with Dennis and ride in tomorrow morning's Bridge Pedal bike ride in Portland. Unfortunately, Dennis is under the weather, and we've had to scrap the plans. (Get well soon!)

So instead of heading to Hillsboro, I sat down with Erin to watch U-571, a World War II submarine thriller starring Matthew McConaughey, Bill Paxton, Harvey Keitel, and Jon Bon Jovi(!). Casting aside for a moment that the movie's premise is almost entirely historically inaccurate, U-571 is a slightly better than average action flick. Your world won't be changed by it, but if you relent to the willing suspension of disbelief required, you'll likely find it a passably entertaining way to spend a couple of hours. The movie maintains a good degree of excitement and tension throughout.

Historically, the film is a mess. It was the British, not the Americans, who captured the Germans' Engima encryption machine, and they did so even before the US had entered the war. Furthermore, the real U-571 was sunk before the events of this story would've taken place.

Oh well, that's Hollywood for you.

 

 August 10, 2001

 
Another day of whacking back the laurel bushes, and even though we're only about half way finished, the difference is dramatic. Erin says that it makes the park seem like our own personal fiefdom. While that might not be the case legally, she's right that it makes it feel that way. The chopped laurel bushes themselves aren't going to look all that great for awhile, but eventually we're talking about real progress.

Add to that all the tree chopping and pruning that's headed our way on the 22nd, and our little plot of earth is going to look very different than it's looked previously. And in a good way.

 

 August 9, 2001

 
Let me say that this is the reason I became a white collar worker in the first place: Unless I'm distracted by chasing a ball (not unlike a Border Collie), my tolerance for physical discomfort is low, low, low. In other words, I can handle pain while playing sports just fine, but you give me a tedious, hard, physical labor task like today's all-day circus of cutting down laurel bushes out back, and I'm one fussy baby.

On the brighter side, the Stihl chain saw I bought kicks butt and takes names. It is incredibly powerful, relatively quiet, and nearly vibration-free. Also, unlike the Black & Decker, the kickback guard works. I was very impressed, and, even better, I still have all my digits and limbs.

We'll see if I can still say after tomorrow, because we've got a full day of cutting yet to go, and, in all likelihood, we're going to have 3 or 4 more.

 

 August 7, 2001

 
I spent most of the day cleaning my office and (finally!) setting up the recording equipment. Early testing reveals the Sony Pro headphones are great. Most the other gear I've not had a chance to use yet. Soon, though, very soon.

I pulled myself away from all that activity to attend the National Neighborhood Night Out meeting, our version of which was held down in the park. The gathering provided a fun opportunity to meet neighbors and eat desserts. It was refreshing to see so many people committed to preserving the quality of the park, too. Glad Erin and I went.

Frankly, I've got to say that I think the Penny-Arcade guys have it right: Lucas should have called it "Star Wars: Attack of the Stupid Name." Why Star Wars Episode II couldn't have a cool name like "The Clone Wars" or "Ways of the Force" or "The Wrath of Khan" I'll never know. I think it's been all downhill since the Ewoks were introduced in Jedi. I'm still hoping that Star Wars Episode II will be the movie we all hoped Phantom Menace would be, but I'm afraid I'm not holding my breath.

 

 August 6, 2001

 
Erin and I headed to Portland this morning to pick up some camping gear at REI (new sleeping bag for me primarily) and so that I could do an apheresis donation at the Red Cross. (If I can do four more donations, I get my name on some kind of wall of fame.)

While there I watched The General's Daughter, a military murder mystery starring John Travolta. This is not nearly as bad is it sounds. It's got a twisty little snake of a plot, but the motivations as I understood them work out right for the characters involved. I found the story engaging, the acting good to excellent with no exceptions. Travolta may be the weakest here, and I didn't think he was bad. The dialogue is witty, though I suspect that upon repeated viewing one might starting thinking, "You know, people don't really talk that way." There are worse crimes in film.

And that brings up something probably worth reiterating: This is a crime film, and it's a rated R one at that. If sex, nudity, and violence isn't your thing, well, ya might want to pass on this one. (Don't know what to tell you if you're thinking that two out of three ain't bad.) It all serves the story, but those needing a warning should consider themselves so warned. For the rest, I recommend this as an engrossing film. It's not Oscar material, but I thought it was entertaining and well-done. Recommended (except for the second text screen that pops up at the end of the film which is stupid beyond words).

After returning to Salem, Erin headed to school for a France trip meeting with Sprague's principal. While she did that, I cleaned up my office in a continuing effort to find space for all the junk I'm acquiring. Slowly I'm getting there.

In the evening we watched Buena Vista Social Club, a film about aged Cuban musicians and their discovery by guitarist Ry Cooder. Most of these guys might be in their 80s (or older!), but they still have amazing chops and one can't help but be blown away by their talent. I'm not a huge Cuban music fan, but I enjoyed several of the works, and seeing the poverty of Cuba was surprising interesting.

Unfortunately, there are negatives. First and foremost, the film tends to drag, and given how fascinating these people are, that's almost unforgivable. Second, we're given very little historical or political context. Was it the rise of communism in Cuba that sent these folks into the "where are they now" file? Was it simply the passage of time? We don't get any answers. Finally, while Ry Cooder deserves praise for putting these guys together, his electric guitar work is sadly out of place in their music. The musicians occasionally look as bewildered by Cooder's playing as the viewer feels.

In the end, what I like about this movie I really like, and what I don't like I really don't. I suspect a better way to approach this whole thing might be to buy and listen to Ry Cooder's Grammy-winning Buena Vista Social Club album and then rent the movie for the full story. Coming at it cold, without a history and appreciation of world music or Cuban music specifically, might be a little too much to overcome for the casual viewer.

 

 August 4, 2001

 
After a morning of genealogy research on my Raymond line and some early afternoon cleaning of the office, Erin and I headed over to Matt and Ginger's for their housewarming party. And what a party it was! Bocci ball, croquet, really yummy food, Star Wars Edition Trivial Pursuit, a Jenga-like game called Chinese Sticks (I think), and a card game called Gulliotine. In sum, a great time, and that's to say nothing of the amazing work that M & G have done on their place since they moved in June 23.

[Speaking of June 23, I've posted a few new images in the Photo Gallery. One of them is from the June 23rd move.]

 

 August 3, 2001

 
It was a long day of work up in Portland, so I've not had time to play with things, but music recording equipment arrived today via UPS. That's more than 10 years of waiting I've done for this stuff. I think we can agree that it'll be interesting to see if I can do anything with the gear that will make the wait worth the while.

First things first, though: I'm in the midst of a major genealogical records reorganization that's left my office looking something like my college dorm room. As much as I'd like to plug everything in and go for it, it's gonna take me at least a day or two to finish up the genealogy sorting (which is fun in its own right). Don't know if that will lead to any new genealogy postings online, but I hope so.

 

 August 2, 2001

 
We met with Keith from West Coast Tree Care again today and marked off all the trees that are soon to become lumber. There's a lot of them: Two big ones out back, 2 medium sized one on the north side, and several small ones. That's not to mention all the pruning that'll be going on. We talked with our neighbor Fred and agreed to split the cost of taking down the huge, sap-dripping, pine cone-dropping diadora cedar out front. Come the evening of August 22, the property is going to look very different.

 

 August 1, 2001

 
We watched the latest James Bond flick, The World Is Not Enough, this evening. There's really no point in posting a spoiler warning since—let's face it—if you've seen one Bond picture you've seen them all.

Pierce Brosnan is his normally dapper self, though I think he's imbued the character with a little more steel than in the past. The latest "Bond Girl" is the badly miscast Denise Richards who couldn't pass for a nuclear scientist in a million years. That aside, she fulfills the two primary requirements of her role quite nicely. This being Bond, I'm sure you know what I mean.

I'd call World a fair addition to the Bond pantheon. It's not the best of the lot, but it's no disgrace either. On that score, it's miles ahead of MI2.

An arborist from a tree removal/trimming company paid me a visit this afternoon, and we walked the property and discussed our tree trimming needs. In short, they are considerable. The Ponderosa pine in back which I like has got to go before a wind storm sends it through the living room. The oaks all around the place desperately need pruning. (Branches fall every time there's a strong wind.) In other words, I think we've found yet another way to spend money, this time to the tune of $2600.

We've not signed anything yet, but I think this sort of pruning is actually among our more pressing issues. At least I can't think of any other home improvement project which, if left unresolved, might ruin a considerable section of the house. I'll be sure to mention it if I think of one though.

 

 

Unless otherwise noted this web site and its content, including all graphics, text, audio, and video, are
© 1997–2001 by Ty Davison. All rights reserved.