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I hate it when I don’t have all the information about something and then have to interact with someone else about said thing. I got into a discussion (I won’t call it an argument, we weren’t yelling at each other or anything) with a coworker earlier. I told him we didn’t know which airplane a certain part was going to go on because the people that make it don’t track them that way. He maintained that they must know because the aircraft number is stamped on the part.

So, I didn’t *think* that we did that but I wasn’t 100% sure. I asked him genuinely if he was certain because I hadn’t noticed that before, our process didn’t seem to support that, etc. He was like, “Well, I’ve seen them. I’m going to go take some pictures of them and I’ll show you.”

Well, okay, you go dude. And he did. He brought back to me print outs of like a dozen pictures he took showing what looked like aircraft tail numbers stamped on parts. I put the print outs on my desk and he talked to me for a minute or two and all I really wanted him to do was stop talking and go away (not because I was wrong but because I really didn’t care anymore). I half-listened. He finished his spiel, they must have a way to know and I don’t know why you told me they don’t, and went back off to his desk.

Just now I was waiting for a notoriously slow computer program to start up on my desktop so I started idly looking through the pictures he printed out. The first thing I noticed was that even though he said he took the pictures from one specific aircraft there were three different what he called aircraft numbers represented on the parts he photographed. So which aircraft would it have been? Then I realized that the aircraft number most often appearing on the parts was for an aircraft that had been delivered to the Air Force two years ago. Huh?!

Clearly the numbers he thinks are aircraft numbers are in fact some other number that happens to share a common form with our tail numbers. I feel like this issue has passed, though, and don’t really feel like going over there to his desk and telling him. Sure, it might be something that he needs to know, but if I couldn’t convince him before, there’s probably no point in trying now.

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File under "engineers are weird": I'm walking into the bathroom behind an engineer from the wiring group. He has a coffee cup in his hand. As he passes one of the big, open garbage cans just outside the bathroom he dumps the contents of the cup (coffee, I assume, some dark liquid anyway) into the can. Then he proceeds into the bathroom and rinses out his cup in the sink.

Ummm, okay.

Nov. 28th, 2017

I'm doing an online compliance training class at work about how we charge our time. Yes, I am salaried but due to the nature of the business and the fact that our funding comes from different parts of the US budget and often from the budgets of foreign countries, we have to account for our time. Wouldn't want Great Britain getting the bill for something that is only for the US, right?

Anyway, it's all terrible clip art with text boxes and a voice-over narration that is supposed to be a conversation, I guess, between an employee and a supervisor. The employee asks all these questions and eight out of every ten responses from the supervisor start with a variation of "that's a great question!"

Well, no shit. Shouldn't they all be great questions? This is a training class. This is literally where we go to get our questions answered. If they were awful questions this would be an enormous waste of time.

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Sooooo... how's everybody doing?

Title game!

Hell yeah, basketball team!!

Go Blue!
Livejournal truly is one of my blessings and I thank you all for being here and interacting with me, being a part of who I am. Merry Christmas to all and of course I hope you are all well on this happy holiday.



(those of you who may not celebrate this holiday for religious or other reasons, please accept the sentiment just the same ;~) )

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RIP, Dave Brubeck

(NOTE: I don't usually post two times in such short order but I felt this deserved its own entry)

Dave Brubeck died today. I became a fan of jazz music when I was in high school and one of the very first artists that put me on that path was Brubeck. While "Kind of Blue" was the first jazz album I bought for myself I have no doubt that "Time Out" was the second. I'm not one for music theory (having no musical skill of my own), but it was obvious even to me that his crazy time signatures and unorthodox styles of play made for incredibly innovative and incredibly good music. His distinctive glasses and profile were iconic images of the early jazz age and grabbed my attention from the first time I saw pictures of him.

A lot of musicians are noted for being "relentless" tourers. Nobody was more relentless than Brubeck, who continued to tour the country and play up until a year or two ago, when he was coasting into his 90s. It was comforting to me to know he was still out there, doing his thing well and loving it. I regret that I never got to see him perform live, he was the last living of the original jazz giants.


For those of you who aren't familiar, Brubeck is at the piano

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Not that I am complaining because normally it's the exact opposite, but I was just in the bathroom here at work and there was a guy at the sinks just absolutely scrubbing the hell out of his hands. He was just finishing his business when I walked in and went over and started by rinsing his hands thoroughly. Then he applied a ton of soap and just started going nuts with lathering them up and furiously rubbing his hands together for the entire time I was peeing. He was getting in between his fingers, around his nails, up his arms to his wrists, etc. He was doing a washing job that would have impressed a cardiac surgeon getting ready to do a heart transplant.

I do a good job washing my own hands and he finished washing his just before I was done, despite his considerable head start. Again, not complaining....
Happy birthday, Whitney!!!

You rock in an all around sort of way.

Jul. 22nd, 2012

She played every song I could have hoped she would play and was interactive with the crowd, in good humor despite the bugs. The setting (the stage is right in front of the windows on the left) could not have been better. As mentioned, the rain did not deter. After I had settled myself in a mostly unoccupied area of grass, a stunningly lithe and beautiful redhead in a black strapless pantsuit plopped herself down next to me. She was there with a friend who knew more Neko Case than I do (hard to imagine) and when she began to find her friend a little bit wine-insufferable, we (the redhead and I) shared some moments of bonding at her friend's expense. Don't feel bad for her friend, I believe she was on a level of heaven reserved only for seraphim (and perhaps thrones). Nothing went anywhere with the redhead (I began to believe she had a sophisticated and monied man-friend somewhere out with his buddies, probably drunk-driving a BMW back to a northern Atlanta 'burb), but she was wonderful to sit next to for a concert.

Walking home, I didn't mind the rain. Or the ankle-biting sidewalks. It was a singularly wonderful evening.

A p.s. that I am drunk enough to add: the last time I saw a concert at the Atlanta Botanical Garden, the artist (a multi-Grammy winner) gave me a ride back to my apartment.

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