I glad to hear that there weren’t many serious injuries from today’s earthquake in Washington. Some of the webloggers I follow have reports: Brent. Sheila, Al, Jim, and Susan.
Congratulations! I understand Maria is back from taking the bar exam.
Happy Birthday to Jeff!
In the Christian calendar of the West, today is Ash Wednesday, the start of the season of Lent.
Late page flip. Let’s see if I can get caught up on things…
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Today is Fat Tuesday
which means, for those who observe it, that Lent begins tomorrow.
Well, I never made it back here after lunch. Its a quarter to 10, Pacific time, and I’ve just finished another round of edits for the Archaeological Resources Protection Act report and emailed them back. The person doing the report coordination is very thorough, which is good.
Now I’m going to point myself at Burnt Rock. I’ll catch up with you all when I can. Be well.
Just a quick page flip before I indulge in some bipedal primate feeding behavior.
I had my second sleep clinic session last night, tentatively titled: Trying to sleep with a fan up your nose. My perception is that using a CPAP mask separates the people with a serious sleep disorder from the folks that probably got badgered by a spouse or SO into convincing their doctor to send them to a sleep clinic. I suppose its similar in some ways to when I walked in the door at AA. I was ready to do whatever I needed to do to make the pain stop, which probably contributed to what success I’ve enjoyed with that program. It was the same sort of thing last night. What do I need to do to get some sleep? Stick this thing on my nose? OK, now what else?
The technician works two nights a week at the clinic. Her day job is in the Air Force as an F-16 on-board weapons mechanic. Working seven days a week would really stink. She was a nice person and was patient with my many questions.
When I finally got hooked up with all the same wires and adhesive patches as before, I got my first experience with the mask. I felt particularly pachyderm-esque with this thing strapped on my head. The bedside machine gives off a soft puttering sound as it pumps air up your nose. I’ve needed to have a white noise generator for some time to sleep, so that was fine. Did I mention this damn thing pumps air up your nose? The mask itself was pretty comfortable and I had been assured by Al and others that it works, so I felt magnanimous towards the machine. Provided it came through with the quid quo pro. You can blow air up my nose you freakaziod - if you give me S*L*E*E*P! Have I mentioned that this thing pumps air up your nose? I tried to mention to the technician that it was a very disconcerting sensation (I’m real good at those obvious statements, like I was the first one to notice) and my voice came out as this strange warblely squeak-yodel because air was going both ways in my throat. The tech was nonplussed, but I thought it sounded hilarious and couldn’t stop laughing. Laughing with the CPAP is about as difficult as talking, but that didn’t stop me.
I finally settled in to sleep on my back, with a pillow under my knees but no pillow under my head. I used to sleep this way, but stopped years ago when I couldn’t breathe in that position any more. The tech left after I felt comfortable with the CPAP (blowing air up my nose!) and turned out the light. She came back in almost immediately and fiddled with a couple of leads and then left, saying ‘Sleep well’. I thought, ‘We’ll see…’, but warbled ‘Thanks’. And, …, big surprise to me, I just went to sleep. Remember, that this thing pumps air up your nose. Its a very wrong sensation.
The tech came in and woke me up. I figured that something must be wrong with the electronics again. I was flabbergasted when she said it was 5:30. I didn’t have a splitting headache, my throat wasn’t raw, and though I didn’t feel as good as I had hoped, I would be fibbing if I didn’t admit I felt better on awakening than I have in probably eight years.
I can’t wait to get my own CPAP! To paraphrase what Al wrote in an email:
I’ll hate it every evening and love it every morning!
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I had my second session at the Sleep Lab last night.
One of the things about getting a little genuine rest is that it lifts you out of exhaustion just a little bit. That tiny speck of perspective is enough to make you realize how tired you are. Right now I feel genuinely tired and a little sleepy, instead of exhausted. Usually, I know when I need to go to bed because I get groggy. This half a millimeter of elevation above the plain of exhaustion is enough to make me realize how exhasuted I’ve been for a looong time. I’m tired instead of groggy. Cool!
Its kind of like the first time you go snow skiing (if you learned as a kid or have never skiied I still think this will resonate because its really about perspective - which is also a current topic on some developer weblogs). I remember being convinced I was hurtling downhill at speeds that would fracture limbs and rip the flesh from my bones if I fell. Now, I was on the bunny slope, but I was terrified because I was way outside my comfort zone. Two months later I was one of those smart-asses whooping as I threw myself off the lift and racing my friends to that drop-off that hearlded the inital drop into the diamond slopes. Its all what you get used to. It took a little rest to give me the perspective.
With that, I’m going to bed. Life is good!
By the way, I read your weblog tonight. I liked it, as always. I can’t wait to see what you’ll write tomorrow.
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[Macintosh shareware] GraphicConverter version 4.0.4 has been released.
Commander Dave has a good conversation with some inner voices. Its a complicated machine we’re all working on, but you’ve got a good tool-kit and a good mechanic Dave.
I mowed the grass - not that its growing, more to whack the tops off the weeds. Audrey is cleaning around the house, causing canine anguish with the evil vaccum cleaner, getting squinty-eye glares from His Lordship the Cat. Then we’ll both turn to thesis work.
How are you doing?
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There’s some musing on the muse over at garret’s tonight after a trip to Los Alamos. You say there is no ‘genius’ there garret. Likely from your pov there isn’t, you demand exceptional things from yourself. When you’re ‘on’ I bet you can walk through walls…
Jeffery, Diane and David Singer spent their late-winter vacation/school break as a family in Las Vegas. It sounds like they had a great time, and had some good Mojave weather while they were here. David writes Defenestration Corner.
The crocuses are coming up in Sheila’s garden! She has several good garden related links as well.
Craig and his wife are taking a weekend trip to beautiful Friedricksburg, Texas. My Dad wanted to retire there, which I thought was insane until I went there with him. Its really nice there. Live in Austin and visit Friedricksburg, you’ve got a nice situtation Craig!
Lenten musings ˆ Where My Penitent’s Path Led
This is the final weekend of 2001 before Lent begins. New Orleans will be, as they say, hoppin’ (to say the least!), on Fat Tuesday. Many who observe the coming ecclesiastical season will be giving something up or avoiding something until Easter (Eastru, Ostara).
Years ago, when I still viewed the various streams of theology in this country as separate, I would resolve to abandon my favorite recreational substances. That never lasted more than 36 hours, but it took a long time for me to realize that I had a problem. I’m approaching the 18th anniversary of my personal sobriety, or put another way, the beginning of my 19th year of not being a practicing alcoholic.
It took several years to calm down enough to begin the reflection that continues today. I began to identify some other personal demons and started dealing with them, in some cases with the help of professionals. A personal watershed was encountering an Episcopal Priest steeped in Jungian thought who finally allowed me to consider that I was not fundamentally psychotic. Rather, he thought I was spontaneously experiencing what he called ‘ecstatic states’ and asked me to consider that it would be better to embrace them rather than trying silencing them. (later: I just remembered this. Father Bill worked a line from “brides of jesus” on little feat’s first album into the discussion to put it in context. [It] may bring you so much sorrow that you may be entertaining angels unaware. That certainly got my attention, on several levels.)
It has been an interesting time, an exhilarating time, finally beginning to become myself rather than what I thought others wished me to be. All this above is preface an offer to anyone who may be considering that something is wrong in their life because of their use of drugs, alcohol, or some other substance, the information that there is a group of people near where you live who will help. I know this because they helped me. Every place I’ve been has people who are members of these groups, from tiny towns in rural Arizona to secure military installations, from Las Vegas headliners to the corridors of corporate and government power.
If you don’t know where to look, contact me and I’ll help you find out. It likely will be one of the best things you ever do.
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We’re hurtling towards the unveiling of the Burnt Rock paleo-environmental data at the annual Nevada Archaeological Association meeting in March. Essentially, this is a dry run before taking the full version for a stroll at the Society of American Archaeology meeting in April. The extra three weeks of analysis will be necessary to whip it into shape.
Major thesis upheavals of three weeks ago changed my topic from what it was to Burnt Rock. Talk about 11th hour - changing horses in the middle of the stream - stress! The good side is I’ve been in on all the data gathering and in charge of much of it. That, and working on it all day, darn near every day, left little intellectual juice for my former topic.
It was a site that had been dug 25 years ago by my former (which was another change two years ago when he abruptly retired for health reasons) advisor, who abandoned the write-up due to various problems, ultimately resulting in decades of animosity between a group of researchers in California and the Great Basin. It had suffered badly in the ensuing time with field notes becoming lost, maps misplaced, and certain key artifacts absent from the inventory when I inherited it. The site is very compelling, and various people say at times, ‘if only that site would get written up, perhaps then this aspect of prehistory of the area would make sense’. My ego wouldn’t let me see that I would likely do no better. After all, those problems couldn’t stand before the assault of an intellect like mine, right? Pride goest before … I’m the can do kid who had a history of pulling several projects out of the fire and to publication. <sound of hammer whacking ego nail down> Thankfully, I have a new direction and a finite, well defined, and more importantly, achievable topic that I’m working on it full time. I’m going to defend in April. Then I will take a bit of time to discover guilt-free leisure. A concept whose time has come. Then we’ll start the next project, but I’ll have the degree. Heh, heh.
One of these projects will be using the former thesis data and the Burnt Rock data together to address some lingering problems in northern Mojave prehistory. Probably only about 20 people will care, but I think when its done we’ll be doing less hand waving concerning a five thousand year block of time.
Sorry, its been a busy day and likely will continue.
I’m going in to have a CPAP mask fitted on Sunday. Unsurprisingly, I have real, diagnosable sleep problems. Multiple total apneas (as in no breathing) of up to 30 seconds duration, a couple of hundred 90% obstructed apneas (thats when the Olympic class snoring occurs), elevated heart rate, plunging blood oxygen levels,… the whole suite. And that was during a three and a half hour sample period which I considered a pretty good sleep cycle. I knew I felt lousy! However, it can be dealt with. I’m looking forward to the results of the CPAP therapy, but the method will require some accommodations. But, from what I understand, it will be worth it. Thanks for your help Al.
Drive safely Susan.
All your base are belong to us. There, I mentioned it.
Anyway, today is the anniversary of the birth of George Washington, the first President of the United States. Since we officially rolled the commemoration of Presidential birth into a single monolithic President’s Day three-day weekend we don’t do anything special for Ole’ George anymore. “Too bad”, says I, with the loss of stories of wooden false teeth, truncated Cherry Trees (Father, I can not tell a lie!), midnight boat rides in icy waters, and sci-fi stories of Bavarian Illuminati intrigue and influence in the Founding Fathers (Robert Anton Wilson) [and don’t forget those founding mothers! (Hubba!)] the saga of “Our First Leaders” becomes a rote recitation of corporate Net Worth of those who have purchased the rights of use to the images of Dead Presidents with an ordinal designation of less than 24. He doesn’t even get his own advice to wanna-be CEOs bestseller entitled What Would Washington Do?: Advice to Business Leaders When the Redcoats are Kicking Your Ass and You’re Stuck in Valley Forge in the Dead of Winter and Nobody Has Been Paid In Six Months Or Has Any Shoes. It could be just the thing for the so-called Dot-Bust times were in. We’ve forgotten that Washington pulled off an amazing thing.
My favorite image of Mr. Washington? A defaced US dollar bill that passed through my hands with a faded purple ink stamp cartoon dialog box stamped next to his purse-lipped visage (and after eight root canals I understand many subtle nuances of Washington’s clench jawed glare) that says: I Grew Hemp! They don’t make ‘em like that anymore.
Meanwhile another George is making his own mythological landscape to stalk…
via Phil Agre’s Red Rock Eater News Service:
President Vladimir V. Putin of Russia is reportedly both baffled and incensed that on his first call to the new American president, Mr. Bush addressed him not as Mr. President or Mr. Putin but Ostrich Legs. — NY Times, 2/18/01
time for a staff meeting, oh goody.
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Amazing it is, I tell you just amazing. People long thought to be mythical ˆ if not mythic ˆ boldly stride into the little sphere of that is our life.
Susan is in town to marvel at the miracle that is her niece and found time to come by the Desert Demonstration Gardens, which is across the parking lot from where I work at the Preserve. Very, very cool!
Later this evening, Audrey and I met Susan and her brother’s extended family at their home, where Valerie, the world’s most wonderful niece, lives. We had an incredible feast of Panamanian food, the likes of which I’ve never experienced. YUM! It was a new and delightful culinary experience. You’re supposed to put Tobasco on everything! This is civilized cuisine.
(Susan, I hope this is OK. Its the same pic from her site. I thought calling for permission at 12:30 am would be a bit much.)
While we’re speaking of such things, why don’t you head on over to 2020 Hindsight and have a look at the wonderful pics Susan took at the Gardens and dinner!
Some days it is very difficult to even pretend to be coherent when I first arise. This is one of those days. I may not get anything else in here before having to hie myself off to work, so let me wish you a ‘Good Morning and Have a Great Day’ in case I get lost in the house somewhere and don’t make it back here. You may have to listen closely because it probably sounds like ‘Ugh. Mumble.’ But it is in fact ‘Good Morning and Have a Great Day’. Really.
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