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Friday, December 20, 2002

We have moved to the Steel Account. SSH all the way.

Wednesday, December 18, 2002

Big News: My sister Leslie and her David are the parents of a boy, about 7# with a little red hair.
Sam Sutherlin is his name.

Little News: Abby and I picked up a 1998 Lumina from my childhood school bus driver. Abby says the color is Fudd Beige. I say more Metallic Macaroon.
Anyhow the '98 is of above average for reliability according to Consumer Reports. While just 2 years before the Lumina had a below average rating. Now we won't have to use a pillow as the passenger-side airbag anymore.

Well my system admin course is over. I'm all Linuxed out for now. It was fun. No class is funner.
For now that ends my Certification in Applied Computer Science. Yip Yip Yip.

For an entertaining blog by a young Christian skatepunk read: the Craptain's Log!

Sunday, December 08, 2002

Just Teases, Indy's Newest Home Adult Entertainment (strip club) has opened in the old Mount Highest Church of Christ, 3241 S. Madison Ave.

My new swick name is ScOrpion sOn.

"Putting all the vegetables away that you bought at the grocery store today Itgoes fast, you think of the past, and suddenly everything has changed." Listening to The Soft Bulletin by the Flaming Lips on a Saturday afternoon in winter.Tthe album celebrates hope and notes the sorrow amid everyday life. Leader Wayne Coyne said "I want people to listen to it while eaating a sandwich." Over Thanksgiving(after several glasses of wine) I nearly choked up trying to describe the personal significance of this album to my sister Ronda. After reading the reviews of many fans and critics it's clear that this release has a similar effect on others as well, and Coyne has been sent countless letters and listened to impassioned tales from fans about loss and sorrow tempered with the love of life that accompanies such.
In 2001, while enduring a year that included the death of my father during my struggle with cancer treatments, I spent a lot of time listening to music but never felt as though any of it spoke to or for my situation...then as the year came to an end, amid new sorrows of terror and war, I discovered "The Soft Bulletin" and was initially blown away by the bombastic, beautiful music. Then I started listening to the lyrics, and they spoke to me unlike anything I've heard before from popular music. "The Gash" speaks of finishing the battle in spite of being wounded. "Waitin' for a Superman" talks about things getting worse when you thought they couldn't, and urges everyone to "hold on as best they can." Other tunes on the album deal with everyday epiphanies that have the ability to knock you over with their insight. These songs have set the mood for me in a year that is now almost over, but I can see it as a wonderful year of rejuvination and pysical recovery. I'm still cancer free, alive, energetic, and ready for the next step. "I stood up and I said Hey! Yeah!"

Friday, December 06, 2002

Trip to Knoxville and Atlanta for Thanksgiving was swell.
Like my belly after too much turkey. Is there ever too much turkey?
Abby, our niece Lauren (possibly attending Antioch College in OH soon),
and myself went out around town. We got to visit the Atlanta Botanical Garden (sp?)
They have a large number of mind-blowing plants, many types of orchids and strange pitcher plants.

We rented a 2003 Grand Prix GTP for the trip.
Quite a sporty upgrade from the Escort. Eats gas but comfy with great sound, moonroof, and awesome pick-up even
up a mountain with 3 adults and luggage. And it was shiny red and new with only 10 miles on the gauge.

Ab didnt mention Lauren has also met bOb pOLLARd of Guided By Voices.

Cold bicycle ride to work this morning. 3rd day this week.
But the sun dried away the last of the light snow we had.
And a warmer ride home. To Linux Demon Junk Machine.
Segmentation Fault. Core Dumped. Grade, too.



Wednesday, December 04, 2002

How nice to be back home in Indy after a fine trip to Knoxville and Atlanta. It was good to see my family, particularly because that doesn't happen very often. Time passes- one day my niece Lauren is two and crying in the kitchen in the old house in Terre Haute, the next moment she's eighteen, a fellow fan of the Flaming Lips and we're listening to her sing on a great demo tape. On this trip we feasted and drank relentlessly, and my trousers tightened with the evidence of excess. Hello salad! Hello cold air! It was so warm in Atlanta that I left my wool coat in the closet at my sister's house. I kick myself.

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