Watching the stars, shine.
Warm Summer evening air, still.
Dog wants to play, NOW!

Wow.

I’ve wanted a new front door for 14 years. It was always on the plan…for next year. It closed. It locked…mostly. And there was always some other priority. Usually something cancer related. So it stayed. Today, that changed. Before…

And after (but still untrimmed and unpainted)…

For the first time ever, my front hall is filled with natural light in the evening. It makes it look and feel more like a home than it has in near 4 years. Maybe there is hope yet for this house of busted dreams.

[Edit History]

2008.07.09

Fixed typos and grammar.

…you’ve spent the day with excellent friends, grilling burgers, drinking beer, sailing at 9,000 feet in the heart of the Rockies, watching Bald Eagles fly and celebrating this great nations birthday.

To get things going, no Fourth of July is off to a proper start without first giving room to the obligatory flag wearing, skateboard riding pit bull to show his stuff.

And there must be a parade.

Then it’s time for an afternoon of sailing on the Tangent (many, Many, MANY thanks to Bruce and Angie!)

And non-stop, drop your jaw, Rocky Mountain Awesomeness…

Of course, the day could only be finished with an awesome fireworks display over Dillon Reservoir.

This, a pristine tear
Made for a cheek, blushed and raw
To find a way home.

I really liked this framed set of prints:

But something about the piano really bugged me. Something didn’t look right and it took a minute to key into it (hint, there.) First I thought the guy playing the piano was inordinately small. Then it struck me (another hint). The keyboard is too big. Looking at the enlarged print…

…reveals 117 keys, plus or minus one, and not the usual 88 keys. OK, so it’s “art”, but I’m a musician and things like this have to be closer to accurate than not if the mood of the image in this particular case is to be believable. Picasso or Salvador Dali can go all cubie and bendy to their artistic heart’s delight. But that’s not the style here. I have to wonder if the artist ever really saw a piano in person. Unfortunately, with something like 30 extra keys, it makes the print look a bit cartoonish. No sale.

I proposed this idea in various conversations something like 10 years ago, before there were blogs and such. Perhaps it’s time to voice it again in this forum where any techno-entrepreneur can stumble upon it and, if we’re all lucky, run with it to some success.

Today, for the third time in as many weeks, I was the recipient of an email regretfully sent just nanoseconds after the “Send” button had been clicked. (Today’s blunder, it must be stated, was exacerbated by the “Reply All” button, but I don’t have a solution to that problem.) None rose above the level of “Major Oooops”, but we’ve all heard stories where such events have ended careers, relationships and governments to small countries. (Just kidding about that last one.)

For people caught up in the anger of the moment, too drunk to practice self restraint in front of a keyboard or those who just can’t get the hang of thinking about consequences, I propose The Bungee Email Safety Feature.

It’s simple. If you’re one of those people who feel a strong, irresistible urge to defiantly, compulsively, decidedly or with malice of forethought click the “Send” button regardless (you know who you are), then this safety feature is for you. The way it works is the email client would have a setting whereby a user could specify a number of minutes/hours/days (depending on a particular users safety threshold) that have to pass before any and all email messages they “send” are actually released into the wild. After clicking the “Send” button, their messages would sit safely in the send queue until such time the wait period had passed.

With this feature, once the sender has cooled off, found wisdom or sobered up, he can easily open up his send queue and disarm the ticking time bomb placed there prior to having attained enlightenment. And, of course, if he decides to send that message anyway, he can always cut the bungee chord. Sometimes, there’s satisfaction in that as well.