Whister Olympics: Days 1 and 2

We have a hotel right on Whistler village.  Right over the place where the bands play.  It’s crazy up here.

Last night, we strolled down and got let into the medal ceremony and watched Bode Miller get his Bronze.  We were like 3 rows back because Michelle has no fear and will push through any crowd because she’s pretty and no one will fight her.

Today, we started the day off with mittens.  I stood in line for a half hour waiting to get into this store that sells the red mittens that everyone is wearing.  Stock is way short and, well, that means Michelle want’s ‘em.We heard this one store was getting an extra shipment (the first to get to Whistler) so I went out there and waited in line.  Pretty fun joking with people.  All the Canadians realize the Olympics are way in debt and that any money on this kind of thing helps pay for the event.   I spent my time telling people I was going to grab a whole mess of them and sell them on eBay.  I got a few pair and when I saw how many others were buying, I grabbed a few pair more.  About 6 in total.  By the time I checked out, they were sold out.  Sad.

So, we had tickets to the chick biathlon today.  It was rad.  Then we went and saw the chicks race.  They are really tough.  The German woman Nunnienunninienienienenennneneneienienien won (that’s not her real name, I changed it for her protection) won and it was totally cool.  We were in the grand stand and everything.

We didn’t have tickets to the men’s event, which meant that we had to go outside the grand stand where you were allowed to have beer and bratwurst.  It was like we were in Germany.  Except every sentence ended with “, eh?”.  So we had some food and beer, and wandered out to the course and we watched the men race enroute which, as a bone-e-fide ex-racer, was way more fun than watching in the Stadium.

Then we jumped back on the bus and headed back to Whistler.  We changed out of our wet clothes and went to Blackcomb for drinks at the Fairmont.  On our way back we stopped at a tiny hole-in-the-wall pub with about 6 tables.  It also happened to be the time that the Canadian Team was playing Norway in Hockey.  Canada was going Apeshit.  We sat and ordered beers.  Then I realized I was wearing my favorite Nordie hat with a big-ol Norwegian flag on it (I am not Norwegian).  So, Michelle and I decided to root for the Norge and against the Canuks.  We did so vocally.

We were politely thrown out minutes later.  Graciously, the bartender did not charge us for our drinks we did not have the opportunity to finish.

And so it goes.  The Alpine events continue to be delayed; we hold tickets to the Mens Super G on Friday, and we’re hoping the event stands.  But, as Whistler goes, the weather is unpredictable and unstable.  Tonight, the temperatures seem much lower and clouds are rising.  Hopefully the events will go on tomorrow.

Resart Feature

I was working with Windows Server 2008 when suddenly Windows Explorer crashed and restarted itself without rebooting the computer, presumably avoiding the Blue Screen of Death.

It reminded my of when I worked at Microsoft where the opinion unsurprisingly and almost-universally held was that “Microsoft is Awesome”.  This opinion is divergent from general consensus, but that’s not the point.  The point is that I deliberately said, “almost-universally” – not “universally”.  This is because this one guy on my team would always say with a sly smile, “Whoever designed Windows Restart is genius.  It’s one feature that fix all problem.  I want to work on Restart team.”

The really crazy thing is, there actually is a Restart Team.

Tablet PCs and Me: This Sort of Thing Ain’t My Bag Baby

Everyone knows Apple is releasing a Tablet PC, or, as I like to call it, “A Giant Fingerprint Magnet”.  I’m as excited as anyone else about this, but I have my concerns over the usability of such a product.  It’s not as convenient as an iPhone, and not as useful as a MacBook Air. That said, I trust Apple to do a better job at this than anyone else could manage.

While I haven’t yet looked at the new Apple iPad that was announced today while I was distracted by ancillary things like my job, I’m just going to go ahead and state this for the record: when I look at the Lexicon of Things Frank Can’t Stand, I see listed at number one the following item:

  1. Do Not Touch My Computer Screen.  Doing so is not acceptable as it will leave a fingerprint that I will fixate on for several hours until it annoys me enough that I have to go clean my screen.  What’s wrong with just pointing? Just point, don’t touch.

So, while I openly admit that Apple will do an awesome job with this product and that before long, I’m sure I will catch the bug and buy one, I’m really not sure how well I’m going to be able to deal with it.

Generalizations

The New Yorker this week ran a very troubling comic.  Have a look, but resist the temptation to jump to conclusions:dutch kid

It’s content, generalization, and motives are highly offensive, however transparent.  Lets review.

  1. Just because the kid is holding his finger in a crack doesn’t mean he’s Dutch.  That would make most of the guys in New York and San Francisco Dutch, and that’s not probable.
  2. The kid is obviously dressed in Lederhosen.  Lederhosen are German.  There is the matter of Germany having occupied the Netherlands.  It is not OK to confuse invaders with the invaded.  That’s like calling Europeans…I mean, that’s like calling Romans…, I mean that’s like calling Turks…Well, maybe it is conventional to confuse invaders with the invaded, but it still not OK, and it still pisses me off.
  3. I’m going to assume this comic is poking fun at the kid who stuck his finger in a dike to plug a hole.  Dikes hold back water, so his intent was to keep water from leaking through the dike.  So why is the kid holding his finger in a wall?    Is he heroically trying to keep air from escaping from China into Mongolia?  If so, he has the small matter of the air moving freely across the top of the wall to worry about first.  This kind of misplacement of priorities is atypical of the Dutch and more prominent in Belgians.  But Belgians don’t wear Lederhosen.

Based on the above observations, I can only assume the comic’s intent is to deliberately start a war between The Netherlands, Belgium, and Germany.  Of the three, only Germany has a history of aggressiveness, so my only conclusion can be that this is the work of a Neo-Nazi bent on world domination.

Suffice it to say, I’m very disappointed in the New Yorker for not seeing through this obvious trick.

A Cursory Look at The Life of a Dutchman and Those Who Have to Deal With It.