stevengharms.com

Thinking about my work career, in the area before I got into technology, it looked like this:

1. Randall’s: Stocker (fall 94- spring 95)
2. Randall’s: Deli Guy (summer 1995)
3. Kumon: Grader / Instructor (summer 1996)
4. Informal Classes: (fall 1996-spring 1997)
5. Started an a small IT consultancy…

I would like to talk about my tenure as a Deli Guy, #2, above.

As far as your teenage jobs that make you wear a stupid get-up and use cleaning and bleach nightly, it wasn’t actually too bad. Working in the deli meant that you had basically 3 primary roles:

1. Serve food from the deli ( it had usually been fried up hours before, and even then, dumping chicken out a bag and into a fryer wasn’t too hard )
2. Slice meats and cheeses
3. Serve cookies to little kids

In short, it was a pretty easy gig provided you could handle working with those slicers ( maybe I’ll write about my one-and-only accident with that one on another occasion ).

Now, after a certain hour at night, the bakery was empty which was conjoined with the deli area. So one night, nearing close I was standing there waiting to slice up some pastrami or Boar’s Head black forest ham when a panicked lady came up to me. Now panic is not usually a state associated with buying fine imported meat, so I was a bit on edge.

“I need you to make me a cake”

As a matter of fact, under my nametag it said “MEATOLOGIST” to let the world know that my skills were in the cured meats part of the universe.

“You need a cake,” I asked, hesitantly.

“Yes, and as quickly as possible, and I need it to say ‘Congratulations Billy.’ [ or somesuch ]”.

I was unprepared for the idea that I should have something to do with this sought item.

“Hold on just a moment,” I stated, to her obvious chagrin.

“Manager red-line to the deli,” I summoned out over the PA.
“Hey Steven, what’s going on?”.
“Uh, do we make cakes?”
“Sure there’s a big bakery right next to you, right?”
“No, I mean, do I bake cakes”
“Do you know how?”
“No.”
“Then, no.”
“Well I have a lady asking me for a cake”
“Well then give her one in the cooler”
“But she wants a message iced on it”
“…” “I, uh, don’t know how to ice a cursive-y message on a cake, do you”
“Uh, no. Well, do your best and let me know if there are any issues.”

I have come to realize answers such as this are typical of managers, but I was unprepared for the answer at the time. I think the crestfallen look of my face gave away to the lady what the game was.

“Ma’am,” I started, “I cut meat here. I serve chicken over there,” I gestured leftward.

“I can give you one of those big blank cakes in the cooler and you can have cake. But I have no idea how to put a message on it. But I will try, but I’m not sure how well I can do. If you need a cake that badly, then I will try for you. Is this OK?” I tried to say this with the gravity that a doctor might say to an anxious parent whose child could only be saved by a daring cutting-edge technique.

She solemnly nodded.

I said: “Pick out the cake and I’ll get some icing”.

So I went to the baker’s table. Big waxy paper. Check. Funny thimble thing with a hole in it. Check. I went to the baker’s cooler and found a paint can of BLUE. I asked her if blue was OK. She assented and gave me the big white sheet-cake she had found. I guess she figured by giving me a cake shaped like a large “Hello, My Name Is” tag I might not screw it up too bad.

I fashioned a crude cone out of the wax paper and applied the tip. I believe I also took some scotch tape to make sure the tip stayed on. Given the lack of other backup cakes I didn’t want to ruin my only canvas.

I took a large frosting knife and smeared a dollop in the wax paper. I twisted up the top and the misshapen frosting cone was ready to go. I took a test sheet of wax paper and wrote my name. It came out badly. I pulled another sheet, slowed down and tried again. It looked serviceable.

I went around the table and started. Not having written in cursive for many years I was a bit hesitant but was able to write out that message in that diagonal y=.33x+4 upward line that says “Hey, this cake is fun”.

I looked at my handiwork and then at her. Her eyes were doe-like and seeking. I put down my sugary tube-ball of icing and walked the cake over to her. My eyes met hers and then she looked at the cake. She looked back up and me and said: “Not bad!”.

I gathered the plastic protector and sold her the cake. I turned around to the baking table which had smears of blue everywhere.

I put the tools of the trade away and cleaned up, dousing the table with disinfectant bleach before turning off the lights.

I headed back to my post to count out the remaining few minutes, praying that no one else had a cake emergency.

Thus when today the League posted Cake Wrecks, I immediately felt for those creators.

Well the 7^th marked the 5^th year of my running a site. Isn’t that thrilling? It’s been a chore sometimes, my only tendril to sanity others, and a great place to store ideas, sketches, and things that I’ve discovered along the way.

Better yet are those who I discovered: The League and the missus, other friends, family and passers-by of their way.

Sometimes it’s also been a way to keep my California friends and folks aware of what was going on with me out there in the middle of our continent.

I’ve shared pictures and code and rants and raves. I even urged my girlfriend to get a site which she has designed into an ordered, pristine beauty.

According to Wordpress I’ve written 1013 entries. That’s about 200 entries a year. Yikes.

But it also is the season of the marking of my trip around old Sol and it was a really wonderful occasion this year. Lauren surprised me by keeping me in the dark as to what would happen.

Saturday we slept in ( mel-a-to-nin, hell yes ) and I was woken up with Lauren’s fabulous fritatta. It is, how you say, so tasty. Creamed spinach, cream, eggs, mushrooms, and a secret blend of spicy kick makes you say “ow” and “mm” simultaneously. I’m glad Lauren’s tastebuds warmed up to Texas chile-friendly cookin’.

Lauren baked through most of the day but she had arranged for oh so many of my friends to come and meet us at Threadgills that evening. Present were:

The Garcias. Alfredo, who has always had the skill of being a master of costume, stentorian oration, and croquet and his lovely wife made it. While my dancing obligation and their trivia mania keeps us apart, it was great to see them.

Juan G. et Letitia who tolerates my abysmal French. Juan’s iPhone shredded cheese and made the photos that Lauren made into a photomontage ( see below ). Letty is also the only person who wished me « bon anniversaire », and that’s special

Juan D. who is one cool cat. I had recently learned about Juan’s mastery of synthesizers from the lamentably-absent Nicole ( who was in a cave, working out that “Tom Sawyer” solo ). I never have a chance to speak with him as long as I wish because I’m either quickly heading down in a spiral of Crown Royal or there’s just too much going on. We actually did get to talk a bit of e-music and I can certainly imagine him having been a good teacher of synthesizer theory.

I also believe I may have called him “Mr. Garcia” upon the conclusion of the evening. I woke Sunday morning thinking “did I call Juan by the wrong surname?” Juan, if you remember, which I clearly don’t ( Margarita Fail!), and I did the wrong way, sorry about that.

The Melbotises were both there, of course, with a family theme enhanced by the presence of League-brother and legal eagle Steanso.

Making my birthday even more festive was the fact that my friend Trevor’s music career appears to be in a really exciting nascent state. Now, mark you well, he’s been working for a great many years in that luxuriously beautiful study of his where only his iMac and the stillness of 5 ante meridien cup his creative dæmon–but the world seems to be opening up thanks to a recent performance in that city of the avant garde artist, Berlin.

Trevor also took the time to consider my research proposal theses which he basically said were crap ( but in a very nice fashion ) and offered to help me refine other lines of questioning. Academic life is riddled with such challenges in pursuit of truth, so I’m thankful for his feedback and his offer to read future suggestions. I really feel like all my friends are really supportive of my school idea, so thank you. I shall be very sad to tell you all of my non-prospects in but a few months.

And last in the order, but first in the parking lot, was Matt who also started the trend of giving me bottles of red wine. This action was echoed by Jason as well as the Garcias. Thank you all for such gifts. Apparently the red-skinned grape has some kooky molecule in it that makes you live longer, and I like the idea of that, so thanks.

Incidentally, Nicole, there was a cupcake that went home with Matt for you. I’m not saying you’re going to get it, but it was sent.

Also I must thank The League et uxor for their gift of literature. While my reading these a days usually finds punctuation in “(A) is greater, (B) is greater, (C) the quantities are equal, or (D) cannot be determined”, one day I will get back to books that involve sentiments. Although before the festivities I got to read “The Killing Joke” which had been lent to Lauren and I remembered how interesting ( and terribly, terribly gruesome ) it is. DC really had it going on back in that era: Alan Moore, Neil Gaiman, and Frank Miller all pushing the craft forward ( Ryan has some great thoughts on how The Dark Knight basically pulled a “Dark Knight Returns” on the superhero movie industry ).

So thank you, thank you all so much for coming out. But in a world where schedules are so variable, and it’s so rare for a birthday to actually fall on a Saturday, I must thank the person who tirelessly herded all the kittens: my friend, my true love, my wonderful girlfriend, Lauren.

I admit, I wasn’t that hot on the idea of a birthday this year. 31 seems kinda the sucks. Lauren insisted. I said “OK, whatever” but she turned it into something really special. A great big thanks is owed to her because not only did she do all the arranging: she also baked the finest deserts imaginable: Chocolate Satin Icing Cupcakes and cherry pie. To say what Lauren made were “cupcakes” is liking saying a Rothko is “a painting”. They were spectacular and her cherry pie, made with delicious, fresh cherries delivered a tart-sweet one-two punch.

The entire event was marked by my recent obsession with love of “Wall·E” and even my Wall·E and EVE figurines made an appearance ( see video, below ).

The cuisine at Threadgills was steaky, fried, cheesy Texas heart-attack fare. It was delicious.

At the end of festivities, we bade farewell to our guests and headed over to check out the “White Ghost Shivers” who were playing at the outdoor pavilion. WGS are a downright ribald “hot string” / ragtime band. Their favorite song topics usually involve: hooch, stickiest of the icky, women of questionable morals, entendres, silliness, The Charleston, and waking up in strange places with strange people. Match this with slide whistles, banjos, clarinets, the occasional ukelele, and some devil-summoning fiddle work, you have a great musical time.

We made it out to the dance, er, field, and tried to keep up. A bit of Balboa on the fast songs, a bit of lindy-hop on the slow, we managed to kick up some dust and enjoy the show in a new way.

We drove back home and as we crossed the 183 split the clock turned past midnight, a birth-day was done.

Thanks again to all those who came out and most of all to my dearest, most wonderful girlfriend who made the day magical for even curmudgeonly old me.

Greeting any new Leaguers while The League is away

I am a huge “This American Life” fan. Last year, for my birthday, The Leagues’ bought me an iTunes gift card which I promptly spent on TAL episodes. I got into it when I first moved to CA. Not knowing many people, having those stories there late on Saturday night became part of a ritual that helped me transition to living there.

My absolute favorite episode is #74 “Conventions”. The first segment ( or, “act”, according to show host Ira Glass ) introduces John Connors, a man from the midwest who goes to New York City for a weekend to celebrate “Dark Shadows”.

“Dark Shadows” is the Gothic–themed soap opera that showed on ABC in the late– 60’s: it’s pacing is nothing short than glacial, the production value is iffy, and the egregious use of the Theremin might be against the Geneva Conventions.

At the end of the convention, Conners feels “Dark Shadows”–fatigue and seems to be experiencing slight embarrassment while relating a story about a woman who, in the convention hall, before a panel of DS cast, bellowed:

“‘Dark Shadows’ Rules!”

Conners seems to have felt the shame that only a true fan of something cultish can experience. You’re shamed by the action of the other fan, but you’re also a bit shamed because the zeal of that fandom exists in you, although maybe not in dictum–bellowing grandiosity.

In the end, Glass gives Conners a chance to say on the radio “‘Dark Shadows’ rules”. Laughing, with a hint of shame, and very quietly, he says it.

I think this explains the way we all feel about our guilty pleasures that we obsess about.

“Danielle Steel rules!” or “WWE rules” or back in 18^th England: “roman’s rule!”

I have felt this way about my love of Rush for many years. There’s a huge fan-base for the Canadian power-trio but most of our lives we live in the closet, but upon finding one another, there’s the immediate understanding.

How can you explain the voice of Geddy Lee from 1974-1981? How can you explain that dressing in robes was a good idea?

How can you explain the talent that barely makes it possible for Neal Peart to even be classified as a human? How can you explain lyrics about

science,

a black hole,

Ayn Rand’s Anthem re-cast as a rock opera,

the unbelievable bass breakdown to the slapback-effects laden “Free Will”, the poetic allegory of “The Trees”, or the master’s essay in Moog known as the record Signals? Much less to a pretty girl?

In the utterance of “Rush Rules” to end them all, enters the pean by one Stephen Colbert:

Recently I discovered that fellow Leaguer and former resident of the Hall of Justice itself, Nicole, has an aptitude for sythesizer. How totally awesome would it be if sweet, petite, gently sweet-Texlahoma-lilt-voiced Nicole were to get up behind an ersatz wood–paneled Moog and rock the socks out of the synthesizer-solo of “Tom Sawyer”? Equally acceptable would be the synth denouement out of “YYZ ( that’s Why-Why-Zed for the uninitiated )”

Although, playing that synth solo may be the synth crowd’s version of walking into Guitar Center and playing “Stairway”.

Rush fandom is a weird thing, but it’s oddly virulent. Even my Sublime-n-Sunshine SoCal girlfriend, of late, under the sway of the Teutonic Thunder drumming of Neal Peart has confessed that she has the sneaky suspicion that what I’ve known for many years may be true:

<h1>Rush Rules</h1>

We went to a Balboa / Bal-swing class workshop all day today.

I woke up around 7:30 to do GRE study until 11:30 when we left.

From 12-3 we were dancing and thus about 3:30 when I got home I promptly took a nap…for 2 hours. It was awesome.

I finished watching Season 1, Disc 1 of “Mad Men” which I consider to be one of the most interesting and best–acted dramas on TV at this moment. It’s a fascinating glimpse into the weird parallel universe that ’50’s life appears to have been.

The beautiful intro to “Mad Men”

Afterwards Lauren and I headed over to Serrano’s Arboretum and had some chips and salsa with drinks. I have acquired a taste for Michelada’s of late and Serrano’s makes a fine one. Lauren had a fruit-a-rita of some sort.

Afterwards we returned home and watched “The Road to Perdition” which was good in so many technical regards, it was surprising that it was such an uninspiring and predictable movie.

I’m hoping to catch Hellboy II tomorrow…maybe if I study real hard in the morning I can make that happen.

Here are choices from “Pre-20th Century Period Pieces from the 1970s”

Based on your interest in:

I, Claudius
The Adams Chronicles
1776

Geez, talk about a niche of a niche of a niche that I fall into. Scary, this data mining.

When I started¹ college I was monolingual ( if you don’t count public-school Spanish ). By graduation I was exceedingly comfortable with Dutch and French². These studies, along the way, showed me the wider possibilities of the expression in my native tongue and, as such, I feel as though I lost the sense of the original linguistic constraints of my class, culture, and region. In some ways, it made it harder for me to speak my native tongue.

Allow me to explain.

You see, the first language I really mastered was a Germanic one that maintains some legacy structures which are permissible in modern English, but which are either anachronistic, or, at the very least, unusual, to the modern ear. I’m not sure how second ( and third, or fourth ) language acquisition remaps synaptic paths, but things that didn’t pass my “acceptable English” filter before Dutch did pass after.

A simple starting example:

English:

I think that the apple is red

Dutch:

Ik denk dat de appel rood is.

In Dutch, and other Germanic languages, after a relative pronoun ( “that / dat” ) one has the permission to stack all the verbs at the end of the clause³. Thus, a literal English translation would be:

English:

I think that the apple red is

Now here’s the thing, this utterance is not wrong, rather it’s merely quirky, odd, but legitimately comprehensible⁴.

Now to a more complex example. One idea that became legitimate for me post–1998 was that both “to be” and “to have” were legitimate auxiliary verbs for making the past-perfect.

That is, in traditional English I would say:

I have come to Amsterdam to view Golden-Age paintings.

But in Dutch the helping word is from a form of “to be” (“zijn”) not “to have” (“hebben”) and thus is the translation of “I am” or “ben”, not “heb”. Thus:

Ik ben naar Amsterdam gekomen om Gouden-eeuwse schilderijn te zien.

That is:

I am come to Amsterdam in order to see Golden-Age paintings.

Having been interested in the history of the Manhattan Project since 4^th grade, I certainly knew J. Robert Oppenheimer’s alleged translation of the Bhagavad-Gita:

Behold, I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds

Or, having a traditional Christian upbringing:

Joy to the world the lord is come.

“Ah-hah”, thought I, “it appears that somewhere the use of ‘to have’ overtook ‘to be’ as the auxiliary term for verbs.” Dutch, which shares an approximate common ancestor with English around the time of Chaucer, seems to have preserved something we English-speakers have removed.

But in 1999-2000 I also studied French, and the past perfect ( or passé composé ) also uses a form of “to have” (être) or “to be” (avior) to indicate something that happened, and completed ( i.e. perfected ) in the past.

I came to Paris to visit Shakespeare’s bookstore.

French:

Je suis venu à Paris pour visiter la librarie «Shakespeare’s».

Literal English:

I am come to Paris to visit the bookstore, Shakespeare’s.

Hm, so here we are with French, the other influential parent in English’s family tree, asserting that forms of “to be” are legitimate helping verbs.

Now, what can we note among the French and Dutch verbs that use “to be” as the helping verb?

French: To fall, to come, to go, to leave, to return…

Dutch: To be, to become, to burst, to be startled…

Answer: These words seem to have a tendency to be intransitive; that is, they cannot take a direct object. Surely there are exceptions, but this seemed like a good hunch to base my research on.

Via Grammar Girl⁵ I found this citation by The Mavens.

This legitimate, but now archaic usage is known as: the “resultative form.”

As stated at The Mavens:

An Historical Syntax of the English Language says that the change from the type “he is arrived” to “he has arrived” may have been partly due to the identical pronunciation of is and has, reflected in the contracted spelling ‘s, found even in Shakespeare’s time: “I’m glad he’s come” (The Taming of the Shrew).⁶

Learning these languages, and most definitely Latin which influenced scholarly writing in both linguistic communities, has made me love the subjunctive and given me the tendency to pepper my expression with seeming anachronisms, but it’s really just that my English syntax filter was made a bit more malleable than is usual.

Knowing where English can be bent to allow these subtle and fine archaic constructs occasionally makes my expression a bit sharper to the ear and, given that these constructs are so heavily used in the legal and religious communities, can quickly whip the ear of a listener to attention without the listener even knowing it⁷.

I feel that learning the languages of others gave me new tools for understanding the mental constructs that frame the realities of those speakers. Experiencing this is an epiphany of the liberal arts education and is as fundamentally mind-blowing as a hallucinogen.⁸

Footnotes

1: 1995

2: My mastery of both Dutch and French have suffered from disuse and Latin muddling their compartments.

3: There are some variations for prepositional phrases, but let’s keep the matter simple.

4. Yoda’s syntax, for example, should illustrate the point. Further discussed in another Grammar Girl episode.

5. Fogarty. unaccusative-verbs. 2006. Grammar Girl. http://grammar.quickanddirtytips.com/unaccusative-verbs.aspx (accessed July 1, 2008).

6. Carol. be+intransitive. 2001. The Maven’s Word of the Day. http://www.randomhouse.com/wotd/index.pperl?date=20010912 (accessed July 1, 2008).

7. Shades of Snow Crash

8. I believe this may be, in part, what’s working in Joyce’s “Ulysses”—he’s trying to blow your mind with words, not mescaline.

“Beautiful British Columbia”, that’s what it says, right there, on every license plate in the city. To match a boast like that, you had better back it up, to wit:

Texas: We make sure everyone’s textbooks teach nonsense, or
Texas: More food involving puddles of cheese than Switzerland, or
Texas: Still debating merits of annexation

But BC delivers, it is simply like someone thought of the best parts of natural vistas, cut them out of magzines, pasted them together, and in some sort of Anthony Michael Hall bit of hilarity, made the dream reality.

In this vista Lauren and I had a bit of a vacation and we fêted the marriage of my former room-mate and the subsequent birth of his daughter.

Pictures coming soon, but for now the funk of flying west to east all day long must be slept off.

I’ve been pretty good lately about not over-engaging in web reading: you know, the sort that launches three windows each with 15 tabs.

But today Lauren said she wanted to go look at a few things and that my attendance was not required.

As such, I overdosed on Hillary campaign post mortes, browsed web sites to exhaustion and, slowly but surely, closed tabs and browser windows that I have had open for weeks.

I finally watched that DrScheme IDE demonstration, I took a nap, I broke a glass of iced tea, I read more stuff. I backed up my hard drive and ate some peanuts.

But now I am bored of this inter-net and want her to come home so we can do fun things, together.

Update:

We went to Chuy’s, sat outside, and are now going to play some Boggle. w00t.

Today I took my Latin II final which represents a substantial weight off of my shoulders. It’s weird not to have the nagging sense that somewhere, somehow, i should really be reciting conjugational or declensional paradigms.

My efficient professor offered to grade it there on the spot and I walked out knowing that I got 97 points on it. Not too shabby. That locked me an “A” in the class.

I celebrated with a pho meal and trip to Target with my beautiful girlfriend.

Brian Blessed, scenery not being chewed

Last night instead of cramming, we watched the 1976 mini-series “I, Claudius” — it was at least in the Latin vein. Major cool part: Vultan from “Flash Gordon”, Brian Blessed, playing a (to my mind, rather portly) Augustus. Primus inter pares needs to be primus intering the gym.

I say, upholding the customs of the elders is paramount!

Tonight I hope to relax a bit and head to bed early.

Or maybe enjoying a tender family moment with Ming:

“with a mighty flash” indeed…

I’ve been pretty quiet of late because I’ve been trying to get ready for this year’s review season at work and because I have a very sick application ( as in, it is on a server with an indeterminate and short lifespan ) that I’m trying to clone on new hardware with an interface facelift and move to a new standard of Perl.

Additionally, I have my Latin II final tomorrow.

Probably won’t be much action here until I get the finals behind me and some writing done.