Personal
Car Envy
Living in the Silicon Valley, I am surrounded by others who had better timing than me, and managed to make a good bit of money. I pass more BMW's and Mercedes on the freeways and side roads than it seems I do Volkswagens or Chevys. In an environment like this, my green four-door 1998 Mercury Tracer, sporting more than 113,000 miles of history, doesn't really stand out - unless you mean in a bad way. The peer pressure to upgrade my car - even though this one works fine - is enormous. If I don't own a BMW, Lexus, or even a high-end Audi, I might as well not even drive, but should take mass transit and save myself the gas money.

When I bought the Mercury Tracer, I didn't really have any kind of expectation for how long I would keep it. In 1999, I was working as the Web Marketing Manager for 3Cube, and with my boss out on his honeymoon, I had to visit our Web design firm in San Francisco with him away and get us to the next stage. But the Ford Escort I'd been driving between Berkeley and Burlingame for a year-plus wasn't going to make it with me. The engine had cracked, and it had to be refilled with water to and from the office.

That Saturday, I drove it to the Ford dealership and told them they would have the easiest sale ever - I was leaving my Escort there, and would go home with something else. Really didn't matter what. After trying a Ford Contour (too big) and looking at other things, the Mercury Tracer (used, with 28,000 miles on it already) seemed like an okay option. I test-drove it, and it felt remarkably like the Escort. That's really what made me sign off on it - not any kind of research or pushiness from the sales guy. I was an easy sale. Yet the car still works. It's been paid off for who knows how many years, and still gets from one place to another without breaking. The only question is - for how long?
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20 Years After the Challenger Disaster


Tomorrow morning will mark the 20th anniversary of the Challenger disaster, and news site MSNBC has compiled a number of pieces commemorating the event, including an interesting piece on seven commonly held myths surrounding the morning of January 28th, 1986.

As with many famous sporting events, more people will say "they were there" or had seen it live, having ingrained the story so much with their own lives, that they too want to be involved, or to add personal notoriety to a famous happening - and that's just one of the "myths" addressed.

I remember learning of the Challenger disaster quite vividly. Still in elementary school, our teacher, crestfallen, told us that the shuttle had broken apart after launch, and all seven astronauts - including schoolteacher Christa McAuliffe, had perished. My mind racing, I formed a mental picture of these astronauts jettisoned into the black of space - gasping for air and finding only a hostile vacuum. Not until I had come home, and saw the news reports playing the event again and again, did I have the truth indelibly etched into my memory.

Space travel has always been dangerous as evidenced by Apollo 1, where three were lost in a fire, and Apollo 13, where a near-disaster averted a moon trip, and later became a major motion picture. But by 1986, a nation had forgotten this, and turned a lazy eye to the Shuttle program. As with car racing, it took a major accident for us to stand up and take notice again.
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Impatient Pooch
It's Saturday. I was looking forward to getting some good rest and seeing the alarm clock stay off as I dozed through double digits after a tiring week at the office. It didn't happen - not because the alarm went off, or because the phone rang, or anything normal. It was of course, the dog. Molly, our 16 year old beagle, has a certain lifestyle she's used to. So when it gets past 6:30, she's sure it's time for breakfast, and surely, if I'm asleep, she'll wake me up and remind me that I messed up somehow.

So this morning, her incessant whining and poking with her paw jarred me awake. I fed her, and there wasn't any way that I could go back to bed. Not that it bothered her any. She had no problem using the stepstool next to the bed, and launching herself into my spot, which was warm enough for her to begin her after-breakfast nap. She has a routine, you know.
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I Have to Take More Vacation Time
At the end of 2005, I opened up my "Absence and Vacation Form" at the office, with plans to take the week after Christmas off. To my chagrin, the dates were nearly identical, and all I had to do was change 2004 to 2005. I somehow managed not to take any time off through the entire year, and now I'm more than maxed out. We have a cap of 40 days, and I was all the way up to 53, before taking 2 days and 2 floating holidays.

It doesn't make sense to keep putting work ahead of everything else, so we're going to change that in 2006 - starting with going to Spring Training and seeing the A's in Arizona this March. And we'll find more excuses to take time off. I even thought about asking to work 4-day weeks all year, and ditching all Fridays. I've got enough days saved up, I could actually do that. We'll see.
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