I was born. I suffered.
I suffered some more, and hopefully,
I won't die a painful death.
This is my life.

I want to ride my bicycle

Although riding my mountain bike sometimes makes me feel like I lost my license due to too many DWI's, I still enjoy it. It's relaxing gliding through the little village near my apartment. As you pass the quaint houses and buildings, old people wave to you as they work in their gardens. It sort of makes you feel like a little kid again. You harken back to a time when you had no problems. No heavy weight on your shoulders. No immense pressure that your life will feed you.

If sometime you find yourself feeling down, break out that old bike you have gathering dust in the basement, and go for a ride. Your psyche will thank you.

I hate my cell phone

At the time  I took the plunge and got a "smart" phone, my wireless carrier, Verizon had not yet gotten the iPhone. So, I was pretty much forced to buy an Android phone. Android is Google's Linux-based OS for tablets and mobile phones. I was, at first, very excited when I started using my new phone. I synched my mail, calender, Facebook feeds and I tweeted my stupid brains out.

Unfortunately, all of the crap that Android phones can do really wreaks havoc on the battery. By this I don't mean, "sorta just drains it a little." These things yank your battery out and throw it into the garbage disposal. Plus, Android is not renowned for it's stellar handling of resources.

So what can you do? Not a fucking thing. Other than buying a higher capacity extended battery, there's not much. If you do break down and get the giganto battery from HTC, the maker of the Droid Incredible, it will add a hump to the back of your phone that the Hunchback of Notre-Dame would kill for.

I have found some tips online that supposedly help. I've tried all of the task killers, battery savers, screen dimmers, and bump charging, I've rooted and flashed my rom and removed bloatware. Shit, I sound like a Dr. Seuss story. Nothing. When I am up for the upgrade of my phone, I will be getting the iPhone. I don't care. The damn iPhone 4 just works and the battery doesn't go down 20% if you look at it wrong.

The top home improvements made by The Old Man. Part II

A repost to celebrate all of The Old Man's past 4th of July parties.

The Pool

A couple of years before I was born, The Old Man started having fantastical dreams of a backyard pool. I'm sure that he imagined being part of The Rat Pack in the '60's, gambling, drinking and lounging by The Sands pool.
The Old Man launched his pool dream project by putting an ad in the classifieds for "fill dirt wanted." You see, the estate was located on a pretty steep hill and really wasn't optimal for housing a large in-ground pool. Unfortunately, he didn't ask for "clean fill dirt", and truckloads of boulder and rock-filled dirt was delivered to buildup the level of the backyard. At that time, The Old Man's workforce ranged in age from 6 to about 18, but that was good enough for him and they were tasked to remove all of the rocks and boulders from the fill.
They mainly used borrowed snow shovels from the neighbor, let's call him Murphy. The shovels didn't go back in the same condition. Soon the ground was level and the pool was being dug.  

After the pool and surrounding patio was complete, massive booze filled neighborhood parties were held. Jack, the crazy son-n-law even jumped off of the roof into the pool. It was the talk of the town. The Old Man beamed with pride. He came home for his lunch hour everyday and ate by the pool. Ah good times. Many people can say that they spent their summers baking in the sun and relaxing by The Old Man's pool. The pool has been the source for much happiness and joy over these many years. It has cooled grandchildren, long forgotten friends, departed neighbors and family. The pool was also the site of a gruesome scene. One morning we awoke to a brown blob laying at the bottom of the pool under the solar cover. It was the neighbor's Chihuahua dog Maggie. We alerted the local dog catcher and Maggie was fetched from the bottom. When she was placed on the cement by the side of the pool Maggie was so stiff, she stood on all fours.

I write these words with a lump in throat and a heavy heart and I regret to say that the pool will be closed for the first time in 38 years. It will probably remain closed forever barring at some point someone buying the estate and using as a home and not just bulldozing it.

Next time in part III, The New Room.