September 27, 2002—Portland, Oregon

 
Had the electrician out today to install a new light/bath fan combo unit in the upstairs bathroom and fix the long-standing bath fan problem in the downstairs bathroom. Let me tell you, those guys from Code Electric know their stuff. Not that I'm at all qualified to judge, but any time I look at something and say, "You know, there's no way I could do that as well or as efficiently" I become a very happy fella. This is money well-spent.

We've got the tile rep coming out tomorrow, and that will probably give us a good sense for just how close we are to being done. I'm still hoping for a mid-October conclusion, but we'll see.

I was going to ferry Erin to her first OB/GYN appointment since our big news, but the doctor had a "family emergency" (the tee off time probably got moved up) so we're now rescheduled for next Wednesday. This is the second time this has happened, so if they move our appointment again, I'm gonna raise a stink, since were kind of dealing with a time-sensitive issue here. Or at least it seems to me like it would be. I mean it'd be nice to make sure the fatigue Erin's feeling is for a good reason and that she hasn't come down with some bizarre mono/elephantitus combination.

Drove up to Portland (passing a nasty crash on I-5 southbound) to hook up with Dennis and Maria. Together we headed downtown to the Crystal Ballroom for a concert by Sleater-Kinney. The Ballroom has a really neat gymnastics-like floor that's all springy. Really cool for jumping up and down on, not that I did a lot of that.

The opening band, the Quails, was a trio out of San Francisco. I didn't really dig their brand of punk rock, but the bass player was good and they had one song I got into. I could see how some folks might like them. What I couldn't see was how anybody could dig Shannon Wright, who tortured us for at least an hour alternately on guitar and Rhodes piano. Backed only by some dude on a drum kit, she wailed, yelped and otherwise made a lot of racket—and without much melody to dull the pain. No slight intended on the character of Ms. Wright, who for all I know is a charming person, but I would rather work a week in a baby diaper cleaning service than sit through the likes of her set again. Swear to God, give me a Rhodes piano and a guitar—an instrument I don't play, by the way—and I'll put on a much more entertaining hour.

Happily, Sleater-Kinney rocked. The women were in fine form and delivered a great show. They'll be touring the US for the rest of October, and they're tentatively scheduled to do Conan O'Brien on October 30. If you get the chance to see them, do it! (And bring ear plugs or you'll go deaf.)

Special thanks to Dennis for letting me crash at his pad post-show.

 September 26, 2002

 
Yesterday Erin and I attended a group orientation at Kaiser for prospective parents. An hour well-spent on the whole, but the nurse in charge had no answer to my question of why, only now that the women attending were pregnant, was Kaiser bringing up the usefulness of genetic testing. Isn't that something that should be done beforehand? She agreed it was a good question at least, but I admited to being a little cheezed off about the whole thing since Erin and I have both asked about genetic testing prior to our efforts to have a child and were rebuffed.

At this point we know that there won't be any Rh problems (since Erin is, like 85 percent of all women, Rh+) and I guess we'll just hope that the cystic fibrosis testing goes well and we're not both carriers. All I can do now is to hope and to advise other potential parents to get the testing done beforehand regardless of what information you get from Kaiser.

That aside, it was a helpful and informative meeting, and Erin continues to roll right along. She's tired, to be sure, but so far there's been little in the way of morning sickness and for that we're very thankful.

 September 22, 2002

 
After a very pleasant night's sleep, Joe, Carol, Erin, and I walked around Battle Ground to check out the new subdivisions and to examine some of the new houses being built. None of the model homes or offices were open, but we peeked inside several under construction houses. It was fun to admire and to critique the design, something about which I find myself becoming increasingly snobbish. More on this in a bit.

We returned to Joe and Carol's, packed up, and ate lunch. With our deepest thanks to Joe and Carol for the great weekend, we departed for my 2:15 PM soccer game in Portland.

One might have expected that I'd be too sore and too tired to play a soccer game just a day after climbing a mountain. Ha! I'm also too dense to know what's good for me. So play I did, helping our team more than hurting it as we cruised to a 4-2 victory. Thank God we had subs this week, or I would've been in big trouble. As is, it just hurts to walk.

I wanted to talk a little bit more about design since I'm finding increasingly that it's a major criterion for me in distinguishing good from bad. To be more specific, usability of design—something I'm almost tempted to call elegance. Applying this to a computer operating system, I don't really care if Apple's Aqua interface is all prettied up. I care a lot more that's functional and well thought out. That there is a mind a work—and the smarter, the better—behind the designs with which I interact is perhaps the first thing I look for in making judgments of just about everything.

In the case of an operating system, Apple has long polished the Mac OS with little refinements (some of which seem almost extraneous) which indicate that, "Yes, we've put some mental energy into how this is supposed to work." Microsoft's Windows operating systems, by contrast, seem cobbled together, and the result is that they are much more difficult to run for both first-time users who want ease-of-use and power-users who want efficiency and speed.

Moving to a different context, I've been looking at a lot of houses in the past year, and from a design perspective I've really got to say that I've been unimpressed. A remarkable number of very expensive homes are being built around designs which I consider woeful. You can't really blame the construction folks who, after all, are just following the blue prints, but I've been amazed by what designers and architects are getting green lighted.

Admittedly, I'm not a house designer, and that's part of the reason I've sent my own drawings of our house remodel out to people brighter than me. It's a practice I will continue when my next set of designs are ready (hopefully in a few more weeks). I don't know what our place will end up looking like, but I'm certain that there will be thought behind the choices we make, and that alone would seem to elevate our chances of rebuilding this place into something better than most.

At the end of the day, is good design difficult? I don't think so. It requires a modicum of intelligence and a degree of experience, but it's just not that hard to build in utility and ease-of-use. Is great design difficult? Absolutely. Reconciling multiple factors, making trade-offs (and design is all about trade-offs), and creating a uniformity of presentation can be extraordinarily difficult. Especially on a budget like ours. =)

All of which is why I'm a design bigot. I'll tolerate (and sometime enjoy) good design. But great design, where a person (or group) has overcome challenges to create something extraordinary (like, say, Apple's iPod), well, it's one of my great joys in life. The downside is, of course, that I dislike most of what's out there, almost regardless of product category, but the upshot is that when I find something I like, I am one smitten kitten.

 September 21, 2002—Battle Ground, Washington

 
Erin and I headed up late last night for a stay at the marvelous five-star Hotel Kann in Battle Ground. Today, well, today Joe, Carol, and I climbed a mountain. (Erin wisely opted to hang out at Joe and Carol's, grade papers, sleep, and visit our friend Jen in Vancouver.)

The climb started with a 4 AM wake-up. That's pretty darn early in my book, but in hindsight it was a move which kept us from having to climb during the hottest part of the day and which allowed us to hike without bumping into a lot of other folks. The climb itself comes roughly in three sections: a two and a quarter mile forest trail, a two miles of rocks and boulders, and approximately three-quarters mile "rugged, off-trail scramble" through blowing loose pumice, ash, and scree. Mount St. Helens elevation is 8,365 feet, though the climb from the trail head is "only" 4,500 feet.

We pulled into Climbers Bivouac at 6 AM. Navigating by the light of a full moon and layered in clothes to protect us from the pre-dawn chill, we hit Ptarmigan Trail #216A at about 6:15. The relatively easy two and a quarter mile opener through the forest grew even more so as the dawn began to break and as our physical exertion raised the body temperature.

In the more difficult Monitor Ridge climb that followed we ascended 2200 feet over rocks, boulders, and blocky lava flows. The general trail was marked by long poles, a guide without which it would be hard to know what direction to head other than "up." I love climbing rocks and boulders, and I enjoyed this part immensely.

We stopped several times during the climb to eat food, drink water, and make clothing changes. I believe it was on the last of these stops prior to the final section that we encountered a very friendly little chipmunk begging for food. Joe, who's had food swiped by animals in the past, wasn't inclined to give the little beasty anything, but Carol talked him into giving up an almond, and all parties seemed satisfied by the compromise. Good thing. I would've hated for that to turn ugly. Hehe.

The final part of the ascent was a lengthy and exhausting trudge through sand, ash, and loose pumice. The wind whipped through the area, stinging exposed skin and making it occasionally difficult to see. Even with glasses or sunglasses (don't even think about wearing contacts), it was easy to get a little grit in the eye. This wind-sand combo was also waiting for us at the summit, except there it blew up from the inside of the crater. I remember thinking that there sure was a lot of wind for a place without much oxygen.

The summit itself is a roughly 10 foot wide ledge that runs along the rim of the crater. On the other side is a somewhat sheer 2000 foot drop, so going right to the edge isn't recommended. The view of the crater, the lava dome, what's left of Spirit Lake, the surrounding mountains and wilderness—it's all simply fantastic. From the top you can see the destruction caused by the May 1980 eruption since most of the force of the blast blew out the other direction. It is an amazing sight.

It took us five hours to reach the top of the mountain, and we had initially calculated a relatively quick return. It can't be nearly as time-consuming coming down a mountain as going up, right? Initially, that seemed an accurate assumption. As hard as it was to hike up the sandy section of the mountain, it was a simple descent. What took an hour to climb was maybe five minutes walking down. The rock and boulder area, however, was a monster. If anything, it might be have been slower in descent because, well, hey we just climbed a mountain. We were a little tired. The knees in particular took a beating as we gradually dropped in altitude, and by the time we'd returned to the forest trail, there wasn't a person among us who didn't have aches and pains aplenty. So our round trip time (including a 30 minute lunch break) was nine hours. In other words, five hours up, and four hours down—not bad if you ask me.

Despite the physical pain involved, there's something transcendent about facing a challenge like this with friends. I wouldn't say that success or failure were unimportant since I would've been disappointed had we not reached the summit, but it was a secondary concern. Spending a Saturday afternoon—in this case the last weekend of summer since Autumn officially starts on Monday—on top of a mountain with Joe and Carol, well, a lifetime should be made of memories such as these.

Those interested can view pictures of the event or watch a 2.2 MB QuickTime movie from the summit.

After returning to Battle Ground, we caught up with Erin and headed out to Papa Pete's Pizza for dinner. Yummy stuff, that Papa Pete's, and a very nice family-friendly atmosphere too. (Though what's up with the cafeteria-style fluorescent lighting? That was weird.) We returned to Joe and Carol's house just in time for Erin to catch the last part of Big Brother 3, a dopey reality TV series on which she's been hooked for a month or two. The only reality TV I've been able to stomach is the Amazing Race. Anyway, we watched Jason get the boot from the house, leaving only the pretty and naive Lisa to battle the scheming and manipulative Danielle in the finale. I turned in for the night, aching and happy from the events of the day.

 September 20, 2002—Battle Ground, Washington

 
Whew. The two September ballot measures that had to pass to avoid any more cuts to education made it through by roughly 60-40 margins. That's a bummer if you're a smoker for one, and the conversion of an endowment fund into a rainy day fund (and the subsequent withdrawal of $150 million) is a downer, but ya gotta do what ya gotta do. Now as long as the income tax measure in January passes, we'll scrape through this year (and the next two) without too much harm done. Unless of course you're one of the poor high school shmoes in a class of 35+ students. I think the State of Oregon owes you an apology.

This plays out in Salem-Keizer in the form of larger class sizes, sure, but it's also hampered teachers. You wouldn't believe Erin's "copy budget," the number of photocopies she's allowed to make during a school year. It's so small now that I've told her to just go to Kinko's, get what she needs, and we'll eat the cost. Would you believe the school district has even told teachers not to use staples or collate copies because of the added cost? No, I have no idea how a machine that automatically collates papers is more expensive to run in that mode than in unsorted mode. Clearly, I'm not on par with the intelligencia in the Salem-Keizer administration.

As for teachers, this has been a bad year to be in contract negotiations. They've settled for a 2 percent annual raise (notably under the rate of inflation, so we're actually losing earning power as the years go by) and a $75 increase in school district payments toward health care. If you know even the slightest about health care cost increases in the past few years you'll suspect, as I do, that this will also prove insufficient to keep up with the cost of living. But at the end of the day, what ya gonna do? Oregon stares at a $482 million deficit, and I think you just do the best you can with it. In that light a 2 percent "increase" and $75 in health care doesn't sound so bad. And if the economy picks up in the next few years, perhaps the next contract can make up for some of this. Whoever said you don't go into teaching for the money wasn't kidding.

Dave stopped by yesterday on his way to a pharmcist dinner looking tanned, rested, and ready to rumble. We've been debating playing some tennis or raquetball, and I dare say we'll probably give it a go here one of these days. I've only played a couple games of tennis in the last 10 years and no raquetball, while Dave's situation is approximately reversed. Given that the rains will soon be upon us, I'll bet we give raquetball a go before we do the tennis. Either way, though, it'll be good to run around. (By the way, the best thing about raquetball? If you get mad at your opponent you can peg him in the back with the ball, and it's a "do over." Hehe.)

We're in the midst of week six, and Erin's spent much of it exhausted. Hey, you try building a life support system for a kid (aka the placenta) and see how you feel. The good news is that there's been virtually no morning sickness up to this point, and so far as I can tell (which ain't very far) things are proceding nicely. We've got our first doctor's visit on September 27, so we'll get the official word then, but I assume it's all going well.

On that same topic, thank you to everybody who's written or called with congratulations. We've appreciated your enthusiasm.

 September 15, 2002

 
Over 30 Men's soccer game for me up in Vancouver this afternoon. I'm still not fully recovered from my tweaked hamstrings, but I figure that's why God gave us icy-hot. In the midst of the action, I also pulled a groin muscle and I can tell you from personal experience that you have to be really careful where you slather the icy-hot when that happens. Suffice to say by the end of the game I was fairly hobbled, icy-hot or no.

As for the game itself, well, we only had 11 players so we got kicked. 1-0 at half, but then we gave up three straight in the opening 10 minutes of the second half. 4-0 was the final. I didn't play badly, but obviously I couldn't sprint, so that made it tough going. And I'm not sure I was ready for 90 minutes of jogging, though that's what I ended up doing. We should have five really good players joining the team next week or the week after (they've all been in playoffs in another league), and I expect the level of play will rise dramatically after that. Hopefully, I'll be healed by then too.

 September 12, 2002

 
Erin and I are happy to announce that we're pregnant. Well, that she's pregnant. I'm actually just big-boned. We've suspected Erin might be with child for a couple weeks now. She's been extraordinarily fatigued lately, whereas normally she's got enough energy to power a small city. Her breasts are also enlarging—I mean hey, I've got eyes (and, as Dave points out, hands). Hehe. The first telltale sign for me, though, was Erin walking around a track at school with a friend and bursting into tears for 2-3 minutes for no reason whatsoever. It was, as she related it, like the floodgates had opened and then it was, "What was that?" The answer is, of course, hormonal changes. Many more of those on the way, I'm sure.

Are we ready to be parents? Bearing in mind that very few folks are really ready the first time through, I'd say you bet. Some of you have been kindly telling us for some time now that we'll be great parents, and whether you'll proven right or not, I sure appreciate the vote of confidence. Definitely a lot better than tell us the opposite. Hehe.

I realize that by some standards we're announcing prematurely. We're in the midst of the first trimester, and, God forbid, a miscarriage this early on is more common than in the second or third trimesters. Our thinking is that we're not secretive people by nature (can you tell?), and if something happens we'd rather have the support of family and friends.

Our first doctor visit (we've already toured the Salem Hospital maternity ward) is September 25. I'm sure I'll have more to report then. As for now, new Davison incoming May, 2003.

 September 11, 2002

 
Speculation rises on days like these about the role of God in human affairs, but for my part I accepted as adequate the concept of free will a long time ago. I believe God gives us the power to choose good or evil in everything we do, and flawed as we are, through action and inaction, consciously and unconsciously, we frequently choose evil. A few among us choose to perpetuate evil of a magnitude that we consider their actions to be crimes against humanity. The September 11th hijackers made such a choice and were such men. To my way of thinking, God had nothing to do with their actions other than to lay open to them the same power He gives us all.

Whether heaven holds a place for the unspeakably evil, I don't know. Given that we can barely comprehend the infinitity of God in this existence, divine justice in the afterlife seems speculative. But if heaven exists, surely it exists for the victims of atrocities like 9/11/01.

 September 9, 2002

 
Maria sent me a link to cartoonist Scott McCloud's stuff, so I thought I'd point out a few of my favorites: Brad's Somber Mood, Inertia Man, Zen Dating, Monkey Town, and Scott McCloud—I know you are reading this. Choose one of the many titles I have submitted.

Speaking of online comics, I don't reguarly read Penny-Arcade any more since they started swearing rather than being funny, but a quick scroll through their stuff revealed some pretty good ones without too much cursing: Unwisdom, Descent, Our Dirty Secret, I'll Form the Etc, Gripping!, M$, With Friends Like These, Son of a True Story, Activate, He's Got Legs, E32k2: Wuv, Fettish, Going Down, The Grim Schematic, and Attack of the Clowns.

 September 8, 2002

 
I was up in Portland this afternoon for the first in a season of Mens over 30 soccer games I'm playing in. I played well in the opening 15 minutes, notching a couple assists before pulling my left hamstring and sitting out the rest of the half. I played as a gimp for about 30 minutes of the second half but was unremarkable on the whole.

The good news (other than our 3-1 victory) is that I'm a very good fit for this team as a checking forward. Everybody else runs away from the ball, so I just curl back to it, and voila, look who gets the pass. That plays to my strengths of holding the ball and distributing, so if I can stay healthy for the season, I should put up some good numbers and have a lot of fun. The having fun part being, of course, the more important of the two.

As for right now, ice and Advil.

The Steelers open their seasons tomorrow against the Patriots, but I was pleased to see all the other teams in the newly formed AFC North lose their openers today. I particularly enjoyed seeing Cleveland lose 40-39 after a defensive penalty (guy throws his helmet in celebration because he thinks the game's over) allows the opposing side to kick the winning field goal. (Even though time had run out, games cannot end on a defensive penalty.) Steelers are atop the AFC North and they haven't even played a game yet.

 September 5, 2002

 
Joe came down for some more work on the bathroom remodeling project. We're making really good progress if I do say so myself. The outside needs a little more caulking and some paint. The inside, well, OK, there's a fair ways yet to go on the inside, but we're getting there. We leveled the tub and sheetrocked today. I'll have some more sheetrocking and puttying to do before Joe's next visit, and Erin and I need to buy the actual shower fixture we'll be using. Other than that, there's a little bit of work on the floor, then it's time for the electrician and the tile guy. Oh yeah, we need to get a new toilet too and swap it out with the old pink one.

But as I say, things are moving right along, and my continuing gratitude to Joe for his work and his instruction on all this.

FedEx showed up at the door with Mac OS 10.2 today, so I'll be looking at doing an install either tonight or tomorrow. Dennis plopped it on to his G4 tower yesterday, and it sounds like so far, so good. I'm looking forward to it—especially the new spam filter in the Mail application. More info on 10.2 in the Mac section once I've had a chance to play with it.

 September 4, 2002

 
It now seems all but inevitable that George Bush will cast aside world opinion and illegally violate the territorial sovereignty of another nation. Perhaps this will take place with the assistance of Great Britain or maybe it will be a unilateral action, but unlike the world-wide coalition built by his father during the Gulf War, there is almost world-wide condemnation of this Bush's war plans.

And why should there not be? If the United States can unilaterally bomb and invade countries at the slightest pretense (as his father did in Panama), the nations of the globe rightly wonder what's stopping them from being next on the chopping block.

The invasion of Afganistan had in its aims the destruction of the terrorist network which had attacked the United States, and the rubble of the World Trade Center towers reminded us of the necessity of action against Bid Laden's group. There was more than a little unease in some quarters, but for my part I've always been much more concerned about the threat posed to civil liberties in America by Ashcraft's Justice Department than by any issues emanating from Afganistan.

No comparable claims of any plausibility can be made about Iraq's involvement in the 9/11 attacks. Saddam Hussein may be the Bush family's quintessential "evil-doer," but trying to link him to Bin Laden is like playing Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon. At best Saddam knows somebody who knows somebody who knows somebody who knows Bin Laden. That seems a dubious reason for an invasion.

The Bush administration will trot out other reasons, of course, like possible Iraqi nuclear weapons and so on, but let's face it: By now Bush has virtually no credibility on any subject. Whether it's the environment, education, civil liberties, the economy, corporate ethics, election reform, or almost anything else you'd care to name, Bush's trustworthiness is near zero for many Americans and for most of the world. The Bush administration will offer some (or more likely several) justification(s) for attack Iraq in the not-too-distant future. The sensible citizenry is right to be skeptical of every word.

Even so, I see grey thunderclouds forming on the horizon, and it harkens back to one of the most painful times of my life. For it is an awful thing to be estranged from one's government (not to mention one's university) to the point that you're willing to march in the streets. It is a pain I do not often willingly revisit because I loved my country then and, if possible, I love it even more today.

But in my mind's eye I see our forces again engaging the once-bloodied but unbroken foe of a previous day, this time without any logical justification, moral reasoning, or thought to consequence as we let slip the dogs of war. Innocents (or, if you prefer, innocence) will die for a politician's whim.

And I protest.

 September 2, 2002

 
Erin and I drove up I-5 this evening for a joint birthday celebration for Bruce and Robyn. As a bonus, it was held at the old house on Princeton (by UP) where Erin and I spent the summer of 1992 (her in a first floor bedroom and me in the attic bedroom). We were only there a few months, but it was cool to see the place again and neat that it'd been purchased by a friend of Bruce's.

The party itself was of course a smash hit as one might anticipate. Bruce and Robyn were there, of course, along with Robyn's significant other Jared, Joe and Carol, and a wide variety of other folks from Bruce's wide circle of acquaintance. Despite having to leave around 8:30 so Erin could be tanned, rested, and ready for the start of school tomorrow, we got significant face time with Bruce, and, as I've said, really enjoyed seeing everyone and meeting people.

In many respects it was an excellent capper for a terrific summer. Erin and I both have enjoyed this summer immensely, from her trip to France to my late night/early morning World Cup viewings to camping with friends to minor and major league baseball games to hiking the Ape Caves and so on. It has been an utterly fantastic time, and for those of you who have helped make it so, my sincerest thanks.