December 28, 2005

Next Steps.

The day after Christmas, I spent a total of two minutes in the Kinko's making copies of two illustrations for finishing, and twenty minutes waiting to get out of the parking lot. Somewhere around minute fifteen I swore this was the last time I'd make the trip.

I bought a Canon D320 copier this afternoon with the money from one of my freelance checks. I spent a good deal of time in the two competing office stores comparing feature sets, pricing, and merchandise. Basically, the choices in my price point came down to a Sharp model and this Canon. I was leaning towards the Sharp because of two things: it had a 25-400% zoom range, vs. 50-200% on the Canon. It also looked like the scanning head inside was built a little stronger vs. the Canon—three pulleys instead of one. It also came with a document feeder on the hood, but that's like buying a house with a tennis court—it's nice, but how many times are you really gonna use it?

One thing caught my eye on the side of the Canon, though, that changed things: A USB port. Out of the box, it prints to a PC, which is a huge bonus. Plus, it's $50 cheaper with a rebate and it has an EnergyStar feature which powers it down to sleep after it's idle for two minutes. I wanted the Canon after my experience with my camera, and I figure the fact that the Canon print engine inside our twelve-year-old printer upstairs is still kicking has to mean something.

So, the next part of the puzzle is in place; I'm on the letter G, with I already done and H in the works. More updates later.

Posted on December 28, 2005 10:36 PM | link to this entry

I'm So Glad Christmas Is Over.

Because I don't have to hear that fucking "Overst*ck.com" Jingle Bells song anymore.

I have relief from the overwhelming feeling of despair and un-manliness over not having bought my wife a diamond the size of my fist.

There are no More Celine Dion Christmas carols.

The grocery store is calm and peaceful again.

There are plenty of cookies left over in the kitchen.

Posted on December 28, 2005 9:13 PM | link to this entry

December 27, 2005

Merry Christmas.

This Christmas, instead of an electronic gadget or a computer accessory, my wife gave me something I can tinker with for hours without a keyboard or a power strip. I've always wanted to learn how to play guitar, and now I have no excuse not to try. Thanks, baby.

Posted on December 27, 2005 11:11 PM | link to this entry

December 23, 2005

Peace, Out.

This will probably be my (only) post from this week, as it's been a long and busy one, filled with unexpected shopping, people, and cookies. Anyway, to all my homies out there, have a Merry Christmas, and I'll talk with you when we get back.

Oh, yeah: Cool after-Christmas gift.

Posted on December 23, 2005 4:36 PM | link to this entry

December 20, 2005

An Unusual Ride.

Back in April of 2003, I was lucky enough to be sent to Bimini to dive on the reefs there for work. The fastest way to get to the island is on the small Miami-based Chalk's Ocean Airways. We flew down to Ft. Lauderdale and traded our shiny new Boeing 737 for a Grumman Turbo Mallard, a seaplane originally manufactured in 1947 for the US Navy. We trundled out onto the runway and took off from land for the 45-minute flight to the island. The plane was noisy, the flight was bumpy, and from my seat in the aisle (next to the landing gear) I could look five feet into the cockpit, where both pilots flew the plane in shirtsleeves with the windows open, allowing the smell of burnt kerosene from the engines to waft through the compartment. On our approach to the island, we were low enough to make out the beginnings of the reef, miles offshore. The pilots lined the plane up, and set it down gently in the harbor—for a brief minute, the window next to me was under the clear, brilliant blue of the water. We taxied up to the seaplane ramp and waddled back onto land, where the pilots turned the little plane around and shut it down. We spent the next seven days underwater in a completely alien world, learning all about fish, marine life, and diving, but I also was looking forward to my next ride on that ugly, beautiful airplane.

I was saddened to hear about the crash yesterday in Miami. The accompanying video footage is even more horrifying; The planes only fly three thousand feet or so above the water, but that's far enough. Equally sobering is the fact that the wonderful, friendly people of Bimini only have two ways to commute to and from the island—by Chalk's or by ferry. My guess would be that the plane was filled with residents of the island and not tourists—dive season is still months off. Either way, my heart goes out to those folks on the plane and their families.

Update: According to this site, N2969 was the plane that went down in Miami. There's still no word on the NTSB site about the crash, nor the FAA's (questionable) website.

Update update: Confirmed.

Posted on December 20, 2005 9:14 AM | link to this entry

December 19, 2005

Piels Real Draft.

I helped my Dad set up a slide scanning attachment on his Nikon this weekend, and we did a quick runthrough of the Dugan Family Slide Archives. There are three large boxes of slide trays in the attic, and an unknown number of binders holding the balance of the collection. At some point I want to get rest of the collection scanned, and I'll probably have to call in some bigger guns, but this was an excellent start.

The rest of the weekend was peaceful, fun, and festive; our Christmas with the family was wonderful. We got to hear my folks sing in the choir of the Presbyterian church across the street from their house, and visit with my namesake, William Dugan Jr., who is nearing 90 years of age and still kicking. Thanks to everyone for a happy holiday!

Posted on December 19, 2005 8:58 PM | link to this entry

And When I Came Back, I Was In A Facist Country.

So apparently Bush had his little speech today. We heard it on NPR on our way home.

Bush Says U.S. Spy Program Is Legal and Essential. "Do I have the legal authority to do this?" he asked rhetorically. "And the answer is, absolutely." Hmm. Last time I recalled, you didn't have the right to yank away my civil liberties, goddammit. Oh, but your buddy the Attorney General has figured out a way to do that—when he wasn't finding a legal way to let you off the hook for torturing prisoners of war.

How about those poor fucks in Cuba—the ones who've been there for three years without a hearing, counsel, or trial? How safe do you feel now, America? How's that War On Terror going? Remind yourselves how safe you feel when they start asking for our papers every time we cross the state border, and hauling your friends away in the middle of the night.

Posted on December 19, 2005 7:14 PM | link to this entry

December 15, 2005

Good To Be Working Again.

The last three weeks, among other things, I've been working on new illustrations, to develop a portfolio in time for spring. I've finished my seventh piece this evening, and I'm really getting excited.

Getting momentum going is difficult. I had plans to choose certain editorial articles and stretch my brain muscles to develop ideas, but after several starts and stops, I put that on hold. Instead, I decided the best thing to do was to get my skills sharpened again and focus on the art first, and re-learn my own visual language. I think it's the best thing I could have done, because I'm not using the ideas as a roadblock—I have a theme, and the material is plentiful. There's a certain rhythm to working steadily and a love for the physical act of making art that I've been missing for a long time.

I'm going to do about three more pieces, and then weigh out how to display the portfolio online. I'm leaning towards another, separate portfolio site with a highly modified install of Movable Type and an illustration-related weblog. I'm also finally going to buy a black and white copier—the tool I've needed for years—so that I don't have to make nightly Kinko's runs anymore.

It's a start. Keep your fingers crossed for me.

Posted on December 15, 2005 11:35 PM | link to this entry | Comments (1)

December 14, 2005

Bah, Humbug.

Oh, MAN do I wish I could name names and warn you people away from the vendors I've been attempting to use for my Christmas shopping. But that would give away the surprise(s), unfortunately. As of right now, I have one gift with a working tracking number that only tells me it "left" the point of origin. I have another tracking number that I had to call the vendor to get, which tells me pretty much the same thing; I'm under the assumption it's a dummy package and a standard tracking number everybody gets when the vendor has no idea where the packages are (or haven't actually shipped them yet.) I have a third which may or may not show up on my doorstep before we leave. And finally, I have Golfsmith.com, who originally told me my item was in stock on the 8th, took my credit card, and then dropped the ball until I called, chased down the item and found out that it was discontinued. So that order is cancelled.

I'm toying with the idea of taking some coal from our cellar and mailing it out to each of these vendors as a token of appreciation.

Posted on December 14, 2005 11:56 AM | link to this entry | Comments (3)

December 13, 2005

Hallway Lights

This is the pair of lights we bought at Rejuvenation Lighting installed in the hallway. They really turned out fantastic. I put a pair of 60-watt full spectrum bulbs in each fixture (there are three sockets each) and the light they throw is diffuse, warm, and even. I'd recommend these fixtures to anybody.

Posted on December 13, 2005 9:29 PM | link to this entry | Comments (1)

December 12, 2005

Since When Did In Stock Mean January 3?

I'm spending the morning chasing down the orders I've placed online. Stuff that I bought a week and a half ago is taking way too long to ship. Apparently my mother's present, which was listed as "in stock" on the 6th, is now listed as "expected" by the 27th, which means it would show up on the 3rd. After 15 minutes listening to the cheery hold-message people sing the praises of a company-badged credit card, I find out it's actually discontinued (Mom, you're getting a call in 5 minutes.) My father's gift didn't ship until this morning, even though I bought it last monday. My sister's gift is "processing", which is shorthand for "we don't know where the fuck we put it, but we sure did charge the full amount on your VISA card."

On the sunnier side of Christmas, we put our ornaments on the tree on Thursday, after chasing down lights and hooks in two separate trips, one of which equated to a fifteen-minute wait on line at the dollar store. Want to get real good and depressed during the holiday season? Go hang out at the dollar store, baby. It's what I imagine a toilet-paper line in Soviet Russia to have been like, with bonus added Christmas Musak. Nobody looks happy to be there, least of all the cashiers, who move painfully slow like those robots at Disneyland.

Saturday night we stopped over to the Home of Dismay to have some drinks with the proprietors; thanks for the hospitality, C. and S. We sat in front of a warm fire, had fun chatting, and made some new degree-of-separation connections; this world is indeed smaller than it looks.

Sunday I started working in the basement to shore up the foundation walls. Step one is to scrape all the crud off with a steel brush, and inhale century-old dust. (I was wearing a mask, Mom. No worries.) Step two is to mix an acid solution and wash off the salt and other mineral deposits. Step three is to wash off the acid with water. Step four is to mix some hydraulic cement and fill in all the cracks, gaps, and edges of the walls. Step five is to sit back and drink a beer while everything dries. The final step is to use a big fat roller and start applying Drylok to what's left. I'd like to say I got far, but this is going to take some time; our walls are 80 years old and in need of some serious attention. I'm hopeful that this will cut back on some of the drafty air down there, as well as keep the moisture and crickets out. Plus, a coat of white Drylok with another coat of bright white paint will make the place a lot less depressing.

I'd have to say, mixing and applying the cement has to have been the most bizarre experience I've had in a while. When kneaded between the fingers, as the directions describe, it has the consistency of soft feces. (They call it "putty", but that's a lie.) Plus, it gets warm as it sets up, so I found myself smearing dark warm baby poo on the walls of my basement. After a while, I started really getting into it, trying to get the poo to look as aesthetically pleasing as possible, working it like sculptural clay, using the heel of my palm to flatten out the ridges. I stepped back and admired my basement poo sculpture with a sense of satisfaction.

Finally, our lights from Rejuvenation arrived last week, and I hung the two hall fixtures on Saturday. We were concerned when we held them up to the cieling, as the shades had a greenish cast to them, but when I put them in and flipped the switch, the hall was filled with wonderful, diffuse amber light. The quality of the construction is high (although I think the fixtures could be a little heavier-weight steel) and the shades are about ten pounds apiece. Overall, they blend into the cieling but also look like they've been there since the house was put up—I think we nailed the period pretty well.

Posted on December 12, 2005 11:10 AM | link to this entry | Comments (1)

December 8, 2005

The Salt & Pepper Ticket.

BALTIMORE, December 8. O'Malley Picks Brown As His Running Mate. Are these guys not photogenic, or what? If they don't already have their own buddy movie in production, I think I could come up with a few ideas:

A pair of mismatched cops have to learn to get along as they take down a corrupt system in a large city.
A pair of superheroes fight crime, while keeping their alter egos as everyday politicians a secret.
A duo of action movie stars fight to keep from killing each other as they play politicians in a murderous fight for the Governor's office.
Two inner-city gigolos fight crime by day and get busy by night.
Two cowboys discover their forbidden love for each other in 1963 Montana. (You'd like that, ladies, wouldn't you?)

I think Governor Hairpiece has his work cut out for him.

Posted on December 8, 2005 9:49 PM | link to this entry

Music Will Come Across Phone Lines.

Yesterday Jen and I took a drive down to the Jessup area, past the prison(s) and stopped at a nondescript warehouse in the middle of nowhere. The State of Maryland takes all their old stuff there and sells it off to folks that might have use for it. What use someone would have for thirty identical 14.4K modems I have no idea; It's entirely up to the buyer. They did have some cool stuff—16MM projectors (about six of them), a quartet of barber's chairs, office furniture circa 1970, ancient sewing machines, and fields of file cabinets.

Todd and I have been down there a couple of times, and sometimes there's interesting stuff to be had, but yesterday nothing really caught our eye. I guess it's sort of like a flea market—some days it's hot, and some days it's not.

On today's to-do list: I'm going to head over to the local library and see iff I can dig up anything about our house, the families that lived here, or the neighborhood I live in. I'd love to find some pictures of the house in earlier days to compare it with.

Posted on December 8, 2005 9:42 AM | link to this entry | Comments (1)

December 7, 2005

Dumbstruck.

This morning, I got the first look at a site I designed eight months ago. A third party took the design and implemented it, and it looks absolutely hideous. I'm not going to link to it (obviously), or mention the third party here, because that would be unprofessional, but I am going to admit to how disappointed and angry this makes me.

On my way out the door to clean off Jen's car, a fellow across Frederick Road hailed me, so I waved him over. It turns out he's the son of the doctor who used to own the house—the man everybody else seems to have met except me. We chatted for about ten minutes in the cold, and I have to admit the description I'd been given is pretty accurate. I don't know for sure, but I think he was pretty well fucked up at 11AM. It was too cold and windy to smell his breath. He seemed very happy to know my last name was Irish. We parted ways after I invited him to stop by sometime (it was the neighborly thing to do, even if I'm not looking forward to it) but I think I'd have to have him chaperoned by his sisters if he was to actually set foot in the house. (There's no way he's crossing the doorstep if my wife is here alone.)

Finally, one of my clients—actually the end-user of one of my clients, who I work pretty closely with these days—sent me a box of molasses clove cookies for the holidays. I hope they're good.

UPDATE: These cookies are CRACK! They are so good, I'm fighting the urge to run downstairs and eat the whole pile. AAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUGGGGHHHH!

Posted on December 7, 2005 10:03 AM | link to this entry

December 6, 2005

I Have Succumbed To The Power Of Pop Music.

Over at Said The Gramophone, they're doing a 22-best-of list for 2005. I remember hearing about Kelly Clarkson's (Yes, that Kelly Clarkson) Since U Been Gone and how it was everybody's favorite guilty pleasure of the spring/summer; I finally heard it today. I'd have to say, it is, in fact, pretty fucking good.

I'm going to go lie down now.

P.S. Go listen to that stuff NOW before it goes away-as with most MP3blogs, they only stay up for a week or so. And the rest of the music on the list is excellent as well.

Posted on December 6, 2005 2:54 PM | link to this entry | Comments (4)

December 2, 2005

HOLY CRAP!

Ordinarily, I am on top of all the breaking 311/Scott Stapp news, but this story took me by surprise. Where the hell was I when this happened? Why did our contact at the Harbor Court hotel not inform us of this important news? (We do, in fact, have a contact at the Harbor Court hotel.)

More importantly, Where the hell was the local news? I don't remember hearing anything about this story.

"311, I am ready to fight."

Posted on December 2, 2005 5:18 PM | link to this entry | Comments (1)

December 1, 2005

A Little Personal History.

I have a coffee can I've kept my assorted small junk in for years. The printing on the can has a copyright of 1984, which doesn't accurately date the origin of the collection. I think I started collecting some of the stuff in the can in high school, when I was working at a mexican restaurant in my hometown. As anybody who works in food service knows, lots of money changes hands. (Anybody who still habitually re-arranges a sheaf of singles to all face the same way probably waited tables or worked in a bank.) I started switching out wheat pennies for my own pocket change when I saw them in the bottom of the till. At the bottom of the coffee can, I found 37 total, starting with a banged-up 1919 example and ending with a 1959. The most represented year is 1956 (7). Also from the restaurant days are two 1976 $2 bills, from a freaky guy who used to come in and pay for bowls of chili at lunchtime and try to pick up on me.

I have three 50-cent pieces (not so rare), two buffalo nickels of unknown vintage (everything but the profile of the indian and the word LIBERTY is worn off the front) and my favorite, a 1937 mercury dime. I also have an English five pence and two shilling piece. The shilling is smaller and more fussy, while the design on the back of the shilling is thick and bold, like a manhole cover. The man on the front of my German two-mark coin is pinched and constipated-looking, and his thin hair is combed off the back of his head.

I have a pile of buttons from the various military surplus pants and shorts I've owned over the years; one of the issues when owning 30-year-old old clothing is that the thread tends to be brittle and old. I always thought I'd get around to sewing them back on, but usually, I just put a belt on and wore them untill they fell apart.

There's a quartet of NYC bullseye tokens, from when I was riding the S train between Penn Station and Grand Central on my way to and from college. Along with these I have a single pentagram token from a later era.

I have my father's ID bracelet from the '50's. It has his (our) name engraved in a very elegant script. Unfortunately, it's about four sizes too large for my wrist, so I look like a mafia goon when I wear it.

I made a silver ring in high school in jewelry class (I was padding out my transcript with as much "art" as I could so that I could get a Regents diploma which ultimately did me no good). We carved the shape from wax, cast it with silver, shaped and polished the result, then added a setting and a stone. The ring is a little too big for my finger and the stone gets in the way of everyday life, so it sits in the can.

My sophomore year, I had a friend in Admissions help me make a fake college ID. My alias is William Edwards, I was born in 1969, and I still have the shitty dork-style glasses from high school—this was right before I finally got a sense of style—but looking at it now, there's no way I'd pass for a man of 21, let alone 18. There's also a staff pass from the Cones and Rods show back in '97 or '98 (the closest I ever got to VIP anywhere) which I used to wander around during the show and not talk to anybody.

There are two buttons I've had for years. One is a shamrock, and I have no idea where it came from. The second is a maroon button that says DUGAN in white letters. My sister found it in the drawer of an antique store in upstate new York years ago. I had it on the lapel of a denim jacket for a while, and then on a hat for a while longer, until I was afraid I'd lose it altogether, so I put it in the can.

I have a bullet that fits the Czechoslovakian army rifle hanging in my father's gun rack in New York. It's old, stamped 1951, and is long and sharp.

I have two brass clips from a backpack I bought in Maine in the early 90's. The backpack (probably) dates back to the first World War, as far as I can figure. It came with two very old and dried out leather straps, adjustable by unclipping each of the two brass clips and moving them up or down the strap and into new holes. I had to take the straps off when they finally broke, and someday I'll buy the leather to replace them. I've used the backpack for years to hold my illustration portfolio.

I have an assortment of seashells from various trips to the beach-mostly scallop shells, mostly black, but there's one beautiful white shell with flecks of red at the bottom. I don't know which one came from where.

There's a turquoise lapel pin from the Cloisters in New York City, someplace my father liked to take us as kids during Christmastime. I loved those trips as a kid. Going into the city always made me feel more grown-up and cosmopolitan, and the exhibits at the museum were beautiful and exotic. Plus, there was a guy in the parking lot who made some of the best chili dogs I've ever had.

I have a cap bomb I got from somewhere. It's a small metal toy in the shape of a bomb, with fins and everything. There's a weight at the front which is spring-loaded to the back, allowing a kid to put several caps (do they even sell caps anymore? answer: yes) between the weights and throw the bomb in the air. The weight and aerodynamic shape of the bomb ensures it will come down on the front, and fire off the caps—preferrably behind the back of the intended ~~victim~~ target.

There's a bunch of other stuff in there too, but some of it is boring, and some of it I don't have time to write about. But there's a look into the brain of your author, and what he finds worth keeping around.

Posted on December 1, 2005 11:19 AM | link to this entry | Comments (1)

Two Random TV Thoughts.

Lost was great again this evening. Here's a spoiler, though: next week is gonna be a repeat.

Midway through CSI Expansion Number Seven, or whatever they're calling the franchise version that runs on Wednesday nights, there was an exceptionally clumsy attempt at product placement by a company I won't mention. Now, usually, I can spot this kind of thing, and it doesn't bother me all that much. This was so clumsy, though. And immediately followed up by a commercial at the break. They might as well have had somebody in an empty studio shouting, HEY, STUPID AMERICAN CONSUMER. DID YOU SEE THAT? LOOK AT OUR PRODUCT. GO OUT AND BUY IT BECAUSE YOU SAW IT ON THE TEEVEE. WE ARE ORDERING YOU TO BUY THIS PRODUCT NOW. We decided to turn off the stupid show at that point. Fuck You, CBS.