Watch out.

It’d be just like Y2K to sneak up on us when we least expect it. And when will it be less expected than mid-January 2009?

Things I’m a cheeseball over.

I’m a fairly levelheaded guy, but I have some soft spots. Things like this can get a tear out of me.

  1. Kids, especially mine (Sam and anticipated future ones).
  2. Things related to patriotism or the military.
  3. Christmas.
  4. People who have been married a long time. (For example, Melissa and I both cried at the end of the John Adams miniseries. I guess that would encompass #s 2 and 4.)

And you?

A modest proposal for news agencies.

Most days on NPR or elsewhere, I hear a few stories that go about like this:

  • The Dow is going straight to hell. The Great Depression was a day at the beach.
  • A billion more jobs were cut yesterday, and yours is probably next.
  • The only solution is for the government to suspend habeus corpus, sell 12 or 13 states and give the money to car companies.

I think we’ve all settled that the economic news is going to get worse for a while before it gets better, so I have a suggestion.

Stop reporting it.

Seriously, how many of us really need to know what the Dow is doing? Does it matter how many people lost their jobs? Seems like it only really matters if you’ve lost yours, and if you have you probably heard about it before Carl Castle. And goodness only knows what Congress is going to do, other than lose more even more approval points.

I say leave it be. No sense dwelling on the unpleasant. No more financial news until after the first quarter of 2009. If we’re having a recession, depression, meltdown or whatever else, just wake me up when it’s over.

I’m no Reid Jones, but…

I’ve been working on my trying to develop some Adobe skills. Here are some recent projects.

First, a little welcome present for Dave Latham, who took my place at the bookstore. This was done with lots of consultation with Reid, my design guy (and who’s glad I’m actually learning to do some of this stuff myself, instead of producing and directing him). I decided this would be a good use of a sizeable chunk of my Wednesday.


Next, a little more down to earth: We’re making magnet pictures of Sam’s out-of-town friends so he can learn their names. Lucy is of course at the top of the list.


Things I Miss About my PC (a very short list)

I like my Mac a great deal (witness the recent burst of videos on Blue Sky). And most of the stuff that was weird at first isn’t weird anymore. But there are a few lingering things I wish I could have brought with me when I crossed the great divide.

  1. The Home and End buttons. Did you know, for example, that End takes you all the way to the bottom of a webpage, and Home all the way to the top? Also very helpful when editing type.
  2. The Control button being all the way over to the left, in a very pinky-accessible spot. I’m having real issues with my typing flow. I have to pull my hands all the way off to hit the Command key. I’ve tried to use my thumb but I think it gives me carpal tunnel or something.
  3. The number pad. I realize this doesn’t exist on most PC notebooks either, but still, I miss it. It sits there at my work computer like an old friend you know is always there for you, and then I run home every night with the hot new model. Sorry, old chum.
  4. Picasa. Although iPhoto and I are getting along better the past couple of weeks. I had a great system set up in Picasa, where everything was automatically set up in folders, one for each month. I’m sure I could do that with “events” if I wanted to, but it’d be a workaround. I’m learning that iPhoto is a ridiculously advanced program by comparison, but there’s still a good bit of Picasa nostalgia.
  5. Bibleworks. This is really my fault for not having set up an emulator yet. But come on, Bibleworks. Just delay the next upgrade a couple of years and put out a Mac edition. (I’m reviewing Accordance soon, though, so this all might be moot. But I already know Bibleworks.)

Not bad though, especially when 3 of my 5 are keyboard issues. Vive la revoluciĆ³n.