It's Not Like There's A Specific Window

Friends,

Sometimes you hear nice things about your work that stop that voice in your head that says you're not good enough. Sometimes, and it may not come very often, you hear those nice things often enough, or about a broad enough section of the things that you do, to make you take notice. Recently, that you has been me and I couldn't be more thrilled.

I recently finished a redesign of the company's website that people seemed to like. And those people were folks like the company's board of directors and several of my many bosses. The basic design was done by an outside agency, who gave me a PDF that had to be deconstructed and rebuilt to actually be a thing. Imagine handing somebody a Post-It with picture of lasagna scrawled on it, then asking them to make dinner. It was a little bit like that. The old site I have been maintaining for however long was pretty bad, but the less said about that, the better.

One of my very dearest friends is also a talented and clever designer who has been calling me up to write words for magazine advertisements and to build websites for her friends. I'm writing for trade publications, but it's a real gig for a national audience and it's been a lot of fun. I'll post some of those when I can find them out on the internets. I'm also available to write marginally humorous and nearly always clean jokes for your kid's parties and bat mitzvahs. Lots of enchanted pony walks into a bar stuff. The kids love it.

And then there's this here hot mess of neglect. Recently, there's actually been some real interest in seeing more posts on this very blog. The interesting thing is that I've been looking at the dismal traffic numbers and assumed nobody was reading the thing. What they don't tell you in Big Time Blogging School is that nobody will visit if there's no new content.

Who knew!

- bob

A Little Housekeeping Is In Order

Friends,

I've been away for a little while doing a couple things, but I'm back and ready to use this to avoid having to write some other stuff on a deadline! Now that's taking the bull by the horns! (and getting gored anyway. -ed) Let's review:

• I went on a little trip with The Man From S.T.I.N.K.O. from Chicago back to California. More on this in a bit, but in the meanwhile, think how you could use your lottery winnings in a systematic way to destroy Oklahoma. My secret plan has something to do with genetically engineering a super army of hammerhead sharks, but there are some kinks to work out.
• We're rebranding the Far Eastern Outpost of San Diego's Omnipresent Charitable Organization and the whole thing drops in a week and a half (hope you like russet and taupe! -ed) so I'm going to be writing more here for the procrastination reasons stated above.
• If you know somebody in rural Riverside County who has fire wood for sale at a cheap price, drop me a line. It's still kinda chilly at the Damp Dog Lodge and I've run through my cord and a half of oak.

More stuff has happened since the last post those many weeks ago, but you might find those things sort of boring. I do have some pictures from the trip though, so you'll see those in a little while.

Your pal,

- bob

We're Not Interested In Your Liquid Precipitation

Friends,

Last weekend was one of the warmest and sunniest I recall in February. The birds were angry with each other, competing for the last bits of food laying around, but the gladiolus have started to poke out of the ground. Early spring, right? By 2:00 on Sunday afternoon, the temperature dropped like a stone. Clouds rolled in. The yeti strolled by.


My gorgeous houseguest saw the meteorological writing on the wall just then and made her exit. She'd been worried about the weather predictions coming true right away and rendering her rear-wheel drive pony car little more than a spinning top, but she needn't have really been concerned for another few hours.


Then, around 6:00 or so, the snow never started falling. It was cold for sure, but nothing—despite the warnings from Johnny Mountain—like the giant Pacific storm that was promised.


Fast forward to Monday afternoon and from noon until 5:00 or 6:00 the next morning, we got a foot of snow. I know what you're thinking right now (he really does. it's weird. - ed). Big deal, right? People all over the country deal with this stuff all the time. This is Southern California, so it's different.


Over the years, I've driven through conditions like those of Monday afternoon over and over, but I had no idea that nobody else had. Driving styles ranged from 20 MPH white knuckle terror to bald tire bravado.


Tuesday morning at 5:30, the county Zamboni drivers had worked their magic and made the highway positively glassy. We could've contested the Stanley Cup on the perfect surfaces they'd created except for the new snow blowing across the roadway. And the stalled cars abandoned where they landed in the middle of the road.

It's harrowing, exciting, dangerous and beautiful all at the same time and that's perhaps the allure of living here. Actual pictures of this Winter paradise to come.

Your pal,

- bob

It's Your Duty

Friends,
I've really enjoyed my Birthday Holiday Season so far, and thanks to a frantic "I'm a bad person for missing your birthday" post this evening, the season continues. Traveling far and wide over this great land, the birthday celebrations have been entertaining, lively, and to quote the prophet, pretty great.

What hangs over my head now like the Sword of Albatrosses is the looming threat of jury duty. If I were a religious person, which you might be surprised to learn that I'm not, I could just march into the courthouse and proclaim some sort of talmudic proscription against passing judgement against another, but we evil seculars get no such allowance. I'm still uneasy about it for a lot of reasons, but I'll take the time to rattle off only a few:

• I'm not a peer of the person in the dock. I can guarantee it.
• I certainly wouldn't want to be judged by the person in the dock.
• How will this affect the time line?
• They're insane if they can even pretend that I'll be impartial.
• I can't afford the time off without pay.

The last point is pretty important. It was suggested that I review the policy manual at work to see if the company will pay for time served on jury duty, but I couldn't find even a mention of "jury," "duty," "jury duty," or even "plate of shrimp."
I know they're required to give me time off, but they're not required to pay my salary, so that's that. End of story. Period…

Until somebody decides that they need to prove a point and issue a warrant for failure to appear. Or you marry your great-grandfather.

Your pal,

- bob

Let's Review The Jaunty Little Traffic Logs!

Friends,

I noticed a big jump in traffic hitting this here hot little mess and upon closer review noticed something stunning—the giant spike is coming entirely from Bulgaria. That's right. The Black Sea former communist nation of 7.4 million has taken a shine to this proud beacon of American values, including japery, tomfoolery and general sniping as well as this annoying itch that we can't seem to get rid of even with the most powerful over the counter liniments and tinctures.

Welcome aboard Bulgaria! We're glad to have you as new members of our minor chattering society. Please do feel free to leave comments and let us know how we're doing.

Your pal,

- bob

Two Sentences From A Press Release - I'm Not Falling For It Edition

The Little Jaunty Booth Babes
- Proudly Present -
- A Branding Exercise -
- That May Be Overly Precious -
- And Makes Very Little Sense Upon Reflection -

It's Two Sentences From A Press Release!

"Similar to the Dodge Dart of the late 1960s, the 2013 Dart offers a special blend of style, performance and innovation. The Dodge brand leveraged its nearly 100-year history of passion for building high-quality, innovative vehicles that stand apart in performance and style, as well as from its partner Fiat’s global compact car expertise, to develop the all-new Dodge Dart."

Very similar!

Happy New Year!

Friends,

A new year is upon us and it's time to reflect on the year that's been. The highs and lows, the tragedies and the triumphs.

All done? Great!

Happy new year!

- bob

Happy Christmas!

Friends,

Between my several jobs and the grind of winter, I'm afraid that I just haven't had the time to post as often as I intend to. I really do prefer longer posts, but those kinds of pieces require more thought than I seem to have the capacity to produce. Things should, on the whole, settle down in the new year though, so expect much more starting in a week or so.

In the meanwhile, with things starting to heat up again in the Falklands, please enjoy this news photo of an imperialist subjugating the locals.

Have a happy and safe Christmas and a fine new year!

- bob

I'm So Sorry

Friends,

I may have killed your computer.

Things seem to have gone horribly wrong at bobtherieau.com and our home site has been used since August to peddle bad juju to you, our glorious and good-looking readers. Some evil chump had taken it upon herself (see what I did there? I mixed up your expectations of the gender of hackers, didn't I? now look at yourself. go on. look.) to glom onto the friendly shoal on these internets where you can find the rest of my stuff to send you bad things. That's the simple version, but for you, I hope you learn from my mistakes:

• Don't use public WiFi to fetch your mail from a computer or a smartphone because your passwords tend to be sent in the clear, without encryption.
• This is especially true if your email user name and password are the same as your site admin user name and password (or even close).

Everything seems to be fine now that we've changed servers, passwords, user names, likes, dislikes, aftershave, everything. Well, everything but the goodness that you can expect every single day here.

And again, we're really sorry that once again you've had to go to Best Buy and ask some geek to explain why your peecee is running really slowly. Maybe it'll be better next Thanksgiving.

Your pal,

- bob

Now The Circle Is Complete

Friends,

I'm happy to announce that I'm now the proud owner of a 2012 Jeep Wrangler. What you may not know is that I travelled to the future to get it, and good gravy, people, it's full of THE FUTURE! Gizmos and tricks abound in the thing, which is not really what you'd expect from a Jeep.

What led me to make such a reckless gamble on the health of my own personal economy? I carefully considered my options and came to the realization that the Grand Livingroom needs extensive and expensive repairs, the Mighty Jeepster would not be the best way to drive 100 miles a day, and the teensy racecar (may Marco's dad have mercy on her soul) is absolutely no good in the snow. Did I mention that we're getting snow right away? And ice. And ice and snow.

Mostly, though, I haven't bought a new car since 1988 and I think that I would like to have a vehicle that I can work on when I want to rather than when I have to. That, and I was driving like a tremendous knucklehead in said racecar, and I think it was making me into a bad person. The type of reckless and angry person that I really don't care for. It was the kind of car you get to drive fast and hard, but this isn't a place for that sort of thing, I've come to realize, so my greatest challenge has been to settle into the slow and dull pace that everyone else here has adopted. The driving dynamics of the Wrangler reward slow, as does the free satellite radio, so I'll just turn on the blues channel and take it easy from here on. I also thought that remaining alive might be a good idea, so getting rid of the sports car also made sense for obvious reasons.


But the interior of the new Jeep is also a nicer place to be, considering that it's from the future. It has an air conditioner and a heater, after all. This is quite a luxury considering the other vehicles in the Damp Dog Lodge fleet. It even has a radio that plays radio stations and magically connects to a cellular phone as well as a satellite that's full of music. You can talk to it and it talks back. And it has six gears in its transmission that you can select yourself. That's two more than certain other Jeeps around here…


Once Spring comes, I can get to work on the Grand's engine problems, then bid her a tearful farewell. She's been a life saver for many years, but somebody with more time and patience should take on her challenges going forward. I suspect that the price will be very reasonable.

I'll let you know how scary a short-wheelbase and slab-sided vehicle can be once something crops up, but I'm really pleased at the moment. Maybe it's the new car smell.

Your pal,

bob

Seven Millimeters of Cabin Fever!

Friends,

The first snowfall of the season here in America's Cleanest and Bestest Forest started yesterday and here I am stuck without a Jeep. Okay, to be fair, the Mighty Jeepster is up and running, but not the best mode of safe transportation with its sternum-stabbing steering column, metal dashboard and crusty lap belts. It's great for around town chores, but I rely on the Grand Livingroom to get to and from work when the weather trends towards ice and slush. Call me old fashioned.

Because I live in a town that runs at a slower pace (which is, incidentally, why we have Daylight Saving Time—so that we can finally catch up) and I need a special tool to fix my all-wheel drive Barcalounger that will surely maybe arrive Monday or thereabouts, I have had the opportunity to look at some internets.

So let's see what's on Metafilter. A link to Craig Ferguson's Halloween show? With Neil Gaimon? I'm in. Particularly since their interview touches on the Doctor's Wife episode of Doctor Who. He was even in a musical number at the end of the show.

But who is Amanda Palmer? Well, she's a singer, used to be is currently in the Dresden Dolls, married to Neil Gaimon (interesting couple), and is also a noted pescatarian.

Which reminds me, I should go to the market and get something for dinner.

- bob

Happy Halloween!

Friends,

Here's a little snapshot of the office Halloween party here at Jaunty Central we thought you'd enjoy. The Idyllwild Weather Clam and I thought it'd be fun to dress up as Roy Clark and Buck Owens, but the girly dog insisted on dressing up as Ernest Borgnine.

I don't get it either.

- bob

Mountain Lion Spotted! Still Checking For Pumas and Cougars...

Friends,

My part-time, next door neighbor called last night to let me know that when she drove home from her cabin on Sunday, she had to make a panic stop halfway down the street to avoid hitting a mountain lion. "I don't know if you leave your dog out overnight (I don't because she'll bark at rustling leaves and nobody will get any sleep), but I'll bet that mountain lion would have no trouble climbing your fence."

I have a couple thoughts about this. The first would be that she must not have been that worried to wait until Tuesday. Maybe it looked sickly or sort of unmotivated. The second is that despite the delay, I still took time out of my evening last night to lose my mind over every tiny noise inside or outside. But my biggest concern isn't that the nice kitty will climb the fence…

Your pal,

- bob

Goodnight, Steven P. Jobs

Friends,

Mister Jobs, referred to here over time as His Steveness, has succumbed today to the pancreatic cancer he has battled for several years. There are those out in the crabby public who would say that his legacy isn't so much that he invented anything, but that he created an environment at Apple where his employees might innovate. I disagree.

Steve Jobs invented the idea that an entire company can create a global environment where people everywhere might innovate. That's very different.

Godspeed, sir.

- bob

It's A Shame About Ray

Friends,

So, we went mattress shopping over the weekend and wound up at a place in a strip mall because the sale signs drew us there and were greeted by Ray. He was a little dumpling-shaped and looked a little tired, but was very enthusiastic about mattresses and their construction. So much so, that even after we suggested our very low-ball budget, he continued with a pitch as energetic as a mop salesman at a county fair.

He discussed foam densities, how memory foam was "developed by NASA" so it couldn't be very good on Earth—nudge-nudge, and how we could take the mattress back within a five year window if it didn't feel right for free adjustments. Then he discussed covers…

"All of the mattresses we make are covered in cotton fabric or silk." Well, okay. He went on, "What are you wearing right now?" pointing to our jeans and t-shirts, "it's cotton. That's what's good for humans. Humans can't be comfortable on synthetic fabrics. What's good for humans is cotton."

My first thought was that there was a language problem. Maybe Ray isn't from around here. Then he pulled out the fabric samples.

"You put your hand on this. It looks like cotton, but it's not. It's man-made. Can you feel the heat? I can. I'm very sensitive, very sensitive to it. You can feel the heat," and he briefly waved his hand over the swatch, then pulled it away quickly to make the point.

Pleasantries and prices were exchanged, and after an uncomfortably long period of time in Ray's store, we finally made it out the door.

"Did you notice that Ray referred to humans in the second person?" I asked as we got in the car. "Yeah, why?" "I think Ray is a space alien marooned here, just trying to make a living. What do humans do most of the day? Sleep. He and his shipmates did some market research and decided on mattresses."

"He did kind of remind me of that guy in Men In Black," she said.

- bob

Mr. Bigshot Linguist

Friends,

I went to a local branch of Stinko's bank this afternoon to deposit a payment for services. My colleague at the Far Eastern Outpost of San Diego's Omnipresent Charitable Organization wanted some framing materials and the local purveyors of framey bits wanted a dishonest fortune. Double what the CEO of Chicago, Illinois' very own Bell Studio was asking. Why? Who knows, but they lost the sale nonetheless.

The check was cut, I got the account number, and sidled up to the teller window. "This number is too long," the teller worried. "Oh, it's an account in Chicago, their numbers are longer. It's for my brother's business." Because they absorbed some other bank and kept the numbering system there, I guess. I've been through this before and could look like some sort of financial industry genius offering the information without the details.

"I see it," as she scanned her screen and read the results, "Bell Studio, Paul …" She decided not to struggle with our very foreign last name, but I offered the pronunciation anyway. "TERIO" "Um, sure, whatever." Then a pause.

"Oh right. You're the brother. I guess you'd know."

Yes. I think I might.

- bob

11th September 2001

Friends,

I've been suggesting every year on the anniversary of the terrorist attacks on the 11th of September, 2001 that we never forget the atrocity. This year, there's no way that anybody could possibly forget with the overwhelming media coverage. I'm still, after all these years, shaken by the events of that day and I'd really like to get away from the weepy commemorations of the day. I find it all to be far too much.

- bob

Wankel? No Ma'am, I'm Just Looking

Friends,

News that Mazda has killed the slow-selling RX-8 means only one thing—that the rotary engine will cease to be in production in any of their production vehicles for the first time since the late 60s. They're pretty cheap right now as dealers try to clear their remaining inventory, and I'm thinking that I need a weird four door sports car with a thirsty and smoggy engine at this moment, but a good night's sleep should cure that.

I've always been fascinated with the engine that goes "hmmmmmmm," but not so fascinated to dive into the world of massive oil consumption and blown apex seals. That's not to say I couldn't, just that I shouldn't.

Right?

- bob

P.S. If you know somebody who has a Rotary Pickup in decent shape, let's talk.

Well, That Took Long Enough

Friends,

News has come down today that newish Hewlett-Packard CEO Leo Apotheker, in a financial call today, killed the company's PC and mobile device business (not the calculators! Nooooo!) in favor of their server, software and services business. This, dear readers—even though I'm not at all bitter—comes a little late, don't you think? Carly's purchase of Compaq ten years ago cast my life and the lives of my dear friends into a wee little bit of turmoil, so only now I can sit back here in my Secret Alpine Laboratory and gloat a little. But only a little.

I've spent the day thinking about how the timeline was damaged by the HP/Compaq merger. We've all figured out how to deal with it in the ensuing decade, but what could we have done together if we'd been allowed to continue on an unperturbed path? It's a fun thought experiment.

Not that I'm bitter,

- bob

An Ad Agency Buys A Handheld Radio Manufacturer

Friends,

News came out this morning that Google is buying Motorola Mobility (the smartphone arm of Motorola) for twelve and a half billion dollars. That's a premium over how Motorola shares were valued last Friday and carries with it, I think, the overwhelming odor of desperation.

Of course, everybody's making a happy announcement about the sale, like how the synergistic metrics between the longtime global partner teams are now forming a more tightly integrated new paradigm, or somesuch, but doesn't this mean that Google is now directly competing with LG, HTC, Samsung and all the other Android handset manufacturers? And won't those same highly valued partners continue to wonder how Google is sandbagging every time an Android release comes out? If this is a reaction to the Nortel patent grab of a couple weeks ago by Apple, Microsoft and others, it seems to me that it's a bit like putting out a camp fire by urinating on it without warning all the other campers to pull their marshmallows out first.

- bob

P.S. I use the first generation Motorola Droid for work and am as impressed by it as this guy.

UPDATE: Super creepy and eerily similar plaudits for the marriage here. We welcome the news!