Tonight I watched one of the random Nova episodes that TiVo catches for me from time to time. This one was titled “The Ghost Particle”.
As requested by Geof, here are my responses to a set of questions/challenges that mostly resemble the ones he got from his friend. I say mostly, because I decided to mess with a couple of them and downright refused to answer one or two. *shrug* It’s my site. 🙂 I’ll tentatively tag Amy, with the understanding that her brain is totally involved in organizing PHE right now.
I’ve been sitting on this one for a while. The story behind it is a bit old now, but I’m just now feeling motivated enough to actually write it up.
Here’s the fundamental question behind this post: why are people surprised when they are fired for bad-mouthing their employer and co-workers on their web sites?
Amy is gradually getting better. With that, life begins to get back to the normal routine. We watched a bit of TV Saturday night, and the anniversary of the Challenger disaster meant that the History Channel was running a lot of space-related programming. We watched part of a program we had both seen before about the Russian space program. I set up TiVo to record the next program, which was repeat of one I had somehow managed to miss. It was a 2-hour special based on Gene Kranz’s book Failure Is Not An Option. The special is all about Mission Control at NASA from the beginning of the space program all the way through the Apollo missions. I was riveted.
For those that don’t know, I spent all of last week out in San Francisco (okay, Burlingame, actually) on a business trip. Aside from the work I was there to do, I actually did manage to see some of the town. The visit has brought a lot of thoughts to my mind, but I’m only going to add a few right now.
The last several months have been a really introspective time for me. I’ve had cause to think about a lot of things in my life and ponder what I should do about them. Some of the stuff is personal enough that it doesn’t belong here, but I have a feeling it might be good for me to talk about some of ones that I can. If I’ve learned anything from Amy, it’s that writing can be a really therapeutic thing. Honestly, I don’t do enough of it.
Her name is Duffie Miller. I knew her first as Duffie Downing. She was named for her grandmother, who was an elementary teacher at our school. Amy, in her blog post termed Duffie’s siblings as “ragtag.” Duffie would probably smile at that description. She was the older of two biological children born to a couple that adopted (I think) 10 more children, spread in age from several years older to several years younger than Duffie and me (Duffie and I were in the same grade in school). I don’t remember when I first met her. It was certainly some time in elementary school (after I transferred to Central for the beginning of fourth grade). It was probably when we started beginner band together in fifth grade.
I left the house at about 6:30 Saturday morning. It had been over 4 years since I had last made the 3 hour drive from the home where I grew up to Tuscaloosa. From homecoming at my high school the night before, I was driving to homecoming at UA.
Going back is always interesting. This last Friday night marked the 10th anniversary of my high school senior year homecoming football game. In honor of the occasion, classmates organized a reception and special seating at the game. Since I had not seen a lot of these people in over 9 years, I decided it would be cool to stop by and see who would show up.