Outlaw Feet

The Ministry Of Silly Walks might find a few issues with my gait. and I am not talking about my pigeon toed strut. That may have earned me the nick-names Twinkletoes or 'World's Fastest Duck' in Elementary School, but it is not what I am talking about here.



We are also not talking about my propensity to leave my shoes untied occasionally, or the fact that no one makes pants with a inseam length of 31 causing me to buy 32's that are always brushing across the floor.

Sure, those things alone would qualify me for Silly Walk status. But not for discussion here.

What I am blogging about is the silly things I do while walking socially, like at work or church etc.

Case in point, occasionally when I see someone at work walking toward me when I am busy, and I don't want to stop, chat, and exchange pleasantries. So, the walk strategy might be to pretend I forgot something and turn around. Or to make a quick left turn on a separate aisle and walk through some unnecessary cubes just to avoid the other walker. Yeah, like they don't notice that I turned down the aisle where nobody is working!  All this to avoid a simple 'hi, how are you?' Are we really too busy for politeness now?

Similarly, the awkward walking moment when you find yourself walking behind someone as they are heading out. Do you pass them like on a freeway passing lane? Do you slow down so you appear to not be a stalker? Do you do the left turn into the strange cubicles? Or do you stay in step sync stalking them like a carnivore feline?  Oh the choices!

And what do you do when they get to the exit door? If they get there too early, then they have to open and hold it and wait for me! Or perhaps I need to run to catch the door hold, AWKWARD!!! Or do I speed up and open and hold the door for them. Like when did door opening become so creepily important?? Everyone can open their own doors people, so why do we spend so much time each day stressing the door opening etiquette?  Do we actually have to reach our right arm out across the body of the other 'walker' just to pull the door open for them?  Whey is all this so AWKWARD???

That is just extremely silly!   The  result of cooping men up inside these sterile little buildings. Our forefathers were out tilling the fields and herding the animals....they had no time for this fiddle-fuddle. Our ancestors were hunter gathers, stalking and running and herding and hunting. What got in the way was probably whacked over the head, no politeness required!




Are we MEN or are we MEATBALLS!? 

Well, obviously, I am a meatball. I walk a very Silly Path indeed.

The RAC IT Team

This is the Phoenix branch of the IT team I manage. I am very proud of them and all their accomplishments. I am also blessed by their variety of skill sets and their diversity. Through IT I have been blessed to work with a wide variety of individuals from diverse cultures. I can't tell you what a thrill that is.

With the upcoming merger I realize that this team may no longer be organized at is is today. I don't know what the future will bring, but I am quite happy with what is here and now!

In my early years with the RAC IT team there was just a few of us. For a short time I was actually alone on the team through layoffs and attrition. For many years there were only three of us handling all development and day to day support. The Team has grown and changed over the years, yet the core of the original spirit of this hard working team has always been there.

Cheers to the members of my team, past and present....nca.

Designate This

Today I caught a Frank Deford commentary on NPR  titled:

'You Asked For It: Frank Deford's Top 12 List'

If you click on the title above it will take you to the NPR link where you can listen too. I thought it was pretty cool, particularly because I agreed with most of his top 12. The topics are various sports related suppositions that mostly hit the 'ball outta the park'. For instance, he talks about not allowing viewers to make judgement calls on golf 'penalties'. I totally agree. Have you ever noticed how articles that agree with our own viewpoints are infinitely more interesting then those that counter our beliefs??

In the article, Frank Deford talks about  how the dumping of Gatorade buckets on coaches has gotten really old, I could not agree more. Somehow I get this picture in my head of Abraham Lincoln getting a Gatorade shower after the Lee surrender at Appomattox. What!?! No, it's worse than even that, it is just so predictable and boring that I want to turn the TV off as soon as I see the players lurking around the bucket. It was probably tolerably funny the very first time...but enough already!

For the rest of Deford's top 12, you have to hear the article. I don't want to steal his thunder. Be sure to comment to me on the ones you disagree with or feel strongly about.

One Sports Top 20 he did not talk about was the 'Designated Hitter' rule. I read a recent article on the desire by many in Baseball circles to have the Designated Hitter rule migrated to the National League.

Please No! Emphatically! I love National League baseball, I love the traditions. I love the strategy. I love pitcher against batter...and I love the coaching decisions that have to  be made in the National League, many of which are wrapped around dealing with the pitcher as batter. Other sports like Baseball and Football change their rules yearly to attempt to squeeze more and more offense onto the 'show'. With all the prissy rules in Football, soon the Quarterback will just walk from end-zone to end-zone on each play.  Hockey stages brutal street-fights on the ice just to keep it's viewership, one step above WWF.  But baseball rules as they are today go back to the late 19th century...and they are as exciting and  thrilling now as they were back then. I love that baseball remains the one American sport with a real history...that batting .333 today is as difficult as it was back in 1930. I love that pitch-hitting for a pitcher in a tight low-scoring game is the same for Clayton Kershaw in 2013 as it was for Sandy Koufax in 1963.

The American League can keep the DH....I don't care really. If all the aging players who can no longer run, throw, and catch need a place to play ball, there is a whole league out there for them.  If MLB wants it to be the same in both leagues...go for it....they can get rid of the DH in the American League and send those old out of shape players packing.  But for the sake of the game and all things precious and worth keeping in these United States, please leave the Designated Hitter rule out of the National League!

Cheers,nca

The Numbers Report

While working in IT production support at the local University, a University user called in somewhat upset and worried that her 'Numbers Report' was missing. When we asked her to give us more information, like report name, report number...she was unable to. It was simply, a 'Numbers Report'. It came every day, and she was worried that it was missing.

Perplexed, we made the trip across campus to see a copy of the report. The user said she saved copies of the report every day, going back some time.

When we go to her office, sure enough...there were stacks and stacks of Green-bar paper up against a wall. We are talking major tree homicide folks. Each daily report was over an inch thick, stacked high...there were thousands of them.

The output was IBM system dump information from a program that was abending. Daily, for years.

 To anyone but the most serious of system analysts, the output was useless, meaningless. And it did look like numbers, her name for the 'report'  made perfect sense. However, unless you were a journeyman IBM programmer, the numbers had little real meaning.  This user had been stacking these 'reports' up for months, even years.

Apparently, when we went back to the office to find out what had happened to  cause the daily output dumps from occurring, we discovered that one of the developers had found the program in error and had fixed it, causing the dumps to stop happening.  The developer had no idea that these dumps were actually printing and that someone was receiving the dumps via the campus delivery service. They had just seen the issue and corrected it.

We called the user and assured her that the missing reports were not a problem. We also advised her that she could destroy the existing stack of reports, that they would no longer be needed. Hesitantly she

Do we all have our own 'Numbers Reports'  in our lives that we stack up without thinking about them?


P.S.  The word 'abending' gets flagged as a spelling error by Word. So does 'abend'. Yet, in the IBM development world it is a very common word. In the IBM parlance, it stands for 'abnormal end'.  So, to summarize 'old developers take one final dump before they abend'.

7000 Sunset Paintings - Some with grouse

"Nothing had changed over the years. His father always painted the same picture, a melancholy sunset. Now and then, if whoever commissioned the painting wanted one, he would add a grouse in the foreground. Wallander’s father was a drawing-room artist. He’d honed his skill to such a level of perfection that he needed never to change his motif. It was only when he’d reached adulthood that Wallander realised that this had nothing to do with laziness or a lack of ability, but that this continuity gave his father the sense of security he needed in order to live his life.”

"Dogs Of Riga"  Henning Mankel


This picture shown here is one take on the paintings done by Wallander's father. Click on the picture to go to the blog I found this painting. It does not really live up to the picture of the painting I had in my mind while reading these books....but how often does that ever happen? A movie or other depiction of the image your own imagination conjured up fails to hit the high mark? And, does it matter, really?

I was fascinated by the thought of the 7000 sunset (some with grouse) paintings the author attributed to Wallander's father throughout the series of books. It speaks to me of the obsession sometimes required by artists, driving them forever on and steadily forward in pursuit of their passions!

I think of how obsessed authors like J.R.R Tolkien or J.K. Rowling must have had to create the lush fantasy environments of Middle Earth and Hogwarts. The same can be said for the works of countless artists and musicians throughout time.  What part does obsession play in art?

I will have to think about it the next time my youngest daughter shows me one of her thousands of yarn squares.

My whole life, my whole soul, my whole spirit is to blow that horn... Louis Armstrong 

Cheers, nca

Jonna Linna On The Fly

Learning I would have to fly to Dallas for a day trip, I knew I wanted to bring a book on tape with me. I had never used my work I-Phone to download music or B.O.T., I thought I would give it a try.  At the library, I picked up a audio version of the novel "The Fire Wtness' by Lars Keplar. I loaded it in to iTunes and downloaded it to my I-Phone. The audio version was on 12 cd's.

Once ensconced on the plane, I turned on the airplane mode function and started up the story. I quickly learned that the method I had used to download the cd's caused whatever logic was in the I-Phone to randomize the selection of the chapters. The order of the story was virtually randomized. If I took the time to scan through the chapter headings, I could very slowly pick out the next chapter, but the randomness and the pausing while I searched for the next chapter quickly wore out the pleasure. I pocketed the I-phone and got out the cross-word puzzle in the air flight magazine.

Try two!



I went back to the library and read up on how to use Overdrive to download audio books directly to the I-phone. I then used Overdrive and my library card to download 'The Fire Witness' to my I Phone. Now, the story is in order, logical, and as I soon found out, extremely riveting. The process of downloading is simple, and free to library patrons.



The basic story line for ''The Fire Witness' is a young teen girl at a group home is suspected of murdering another girl at the home along with one of the workers. She flees the scene after kidnapping a young boy and the story chronicles her pursuit while pondering the causes of her troubled life. The story is the third in a series that features Jonna Linna, Swedish Detective Inspector.

The Blackstone audio version is read very well by Mark Bramhall. The book was translated into English by Laura Wideburg, the quality of that translation I can't vouch for. :)

I highly recommend finding out about Overdrive and Free Library downloads from your local library. It you love audio books, it is pretty slick way to keep your I-Phone loaded with excellent stuff like "The Fire Witness",

P.S. Feeling guilty about downloading library books online?  Read this article about how authors feel about library downloaded literature.

Kotkas In the Mirror

"

"Our ancestors survive somehow in our faces. If you look like your mother as a child, you end up as your father as you age.  When you no longer recognize your face it is because an unknown ancestor has taken up residence for a while."   Henning Mankell – Before the Frost

Woolly X-Men

I just read an article linked to Yahoo about a Woolly Mammoth on display in Japan. So, I have to ask, if there were Woolly Mammoth's were there Nappy Mammoths? Hairless Mammoths (Mexican)? Were there flightless Mammoths?

And what about the name Mammoth? Webster says Mammoth means 'Huge'. Were there Mini Mammoths? Toy Mammoth's? Or are all Mammoth's mammoth in proportion?  Could there have been Jumbo Mammoths? Do Jumbo Mammoth's eat Jumbo shrimp? Grade-A Extra large mammoths?

Naming a Mammoth mammoth sort of reminds me of Pokemon. I never understood why each Pokemon, no matter the breed, said their own name over and over again. Their name was the only vocabulary they were granted. Which makes me wonder what a Pokemon with Tourrettes syndrome would say? They might go un-diagnosed for centuries with Tourrettes.

Yes, there was a Mammoth Pokemon. It was called Mamoswine. Really. I'm serious. Think of the poor trainer opening his Poke-ball and seeing this thing?


For that matter, why is it that every x-man coincidentally have the name of their secret power as their name. Wolverine is a wolverine. Guess what Storm and Cyclop's powers were? Bet you can't guess.  If you want to beat an x-man in a fight, don't tell him your name or he will kind of, sort of, know what's coming. Introduce yourself as X, and they are going to either be stumped or send O-man over to block your secret square.  If I was named after my secret power...my x-man name might just be Mammoth.

Kidding.

My X-Man name might be Timex, since I tick like a clock. Or Mallard, since I used to be fast and ran like a duck when I was a kid.

Or maybe since I am 54 and still have my hair, my x-man name and power might be Woolly.

I don't like Magneto's Hat, it bothers me. He needs to get a new hat. Post comments if you have an idea for a new hat for Magneto.
If I was Magneto, I would be embarrassed. A very silly hat indeed.


 Luckily, since I brought hats up, I can post this picture.

My daughter said I should post that picture on my blog, so I did. I like the idea of someone opening up a hat store. It intrigues me. What would make you say to yourself, I think I will open up a hat store? We can sell Fedora's and bowler hats. And Magneto hats. And hats made out of Mammoth Wool. I think I can rise to the top of the hat industry. We can cover our losses. This business is just the brim. There is no salary cap.



Cheers, nca

Dodger Blues and Snake Eyes

For close to 30 years I was a diehard L.A. Dodger fan. There was no question about it. To live in Phoenix in the 60’s and 70’s, you were pretty much either a Dodger fan, or a Giant fan. Cubby fans did not really count, since most of them were expatriate pretenders. On the AM radio, you picked up Dodger games and Giant games. The Giants had a minor league team that played at Phoenix Muni, so they had a bit of a local advantage. But the Dodgers had Vin Skully and Jerry Doggett on the microphones, which for my acoustic taste there was really no comparison.

It helped that my Dad and brothers were also hooked on the Dodgers. It was pretty much a family affair. Unlike all those Cubby fans, we were well rewarded for our dark blue obsession. We were listening on the Radio when the Dodgers won National League pennants in  1977, 1978, 1981, and 1988. We had our AM transistors dialed in during the World Series championships in 81 and 88. I was not old enough to really remember the Koufax and Drysdale era, but certainly my Dad and big brother would. I think we bled Dodger blue. Fernadomania? We were there. Oral Hershiser’s 59 consecutive scoreless endings? Gibson’s limping, game winning HR in Game 1 of the 88 World Series? Oh yeah!

Along with our mutual love for the Dodgers, came our inherent and natural dislike of the Giants and the Big-Red Machine.

Vin Skully could orally conjure a game up in our heads like a perfected dream-scape. If a photo speaks a thousand words, a Skully call spoke a thousand pictures. There was something very real and comforting about a Skully called game that tied us Adler boys all together. I remember driving from Prescott Arizona to Phoenix during the summer of 1980 listening to a game with Jerry Reuss on the mound. Without ever mentioning one very important and telling stat, tension and excitement ratcheted up as each inning passed by. One glaring omission was obvious to all without any spoken announcement. The Giants could not touch the ball. As I got closer and closer to my home in Phoenix, my driving became slower and slower. I creeped onto Amelia Avenue as Vin called the last pitch of the no-hitter. I had heard every pitch described in magnificent detail. I could not wait to tell my Dad and Brothers. It felt as if I had been given an irreplaceable and precious gift to share with all who would listen.

To this day, I can’t listen to a radio broadcast without thinking of Vin Skully. After that, I think about my Dad.  Us Adler boys and Dad were all bonded together through our love of all things Dodger Blue. A Phoenix spring High-light would occur each year when the Dodgers and Giants would stage an exhibition game at Phoenix Muni. My brothers and I would ride our bikes to the park early hoping to pick up a few Dodger autographs and foul balls. One would think we would all have a bond that would never be broken.

Along came 1998 and our Dodger Blue obsession passed out of our lives like a snake in the grass. A Diamondback snake to be more precise. The Arizona Diamondbacks became our local team! Even before Randy Johnson pulverized his first bird and their Luis Gonzales Series winning bloop single we had all decidedly turned our backs on L.A. and dawned D-Back pinstripes*.


MLB Baseball was in our hometown, and we would never again look toward the west coast for our National pastime.

Perhaps this says something about the nature of loyalty. Or maybe it says something about obsessions. Or, maybe it does not say anything as momentous as all that. Dad has been gone a while, and mostly my brothers have all moved away from this sunny hot valley. Summer days listening to Vin Skully and Dodger Baseball are a fond part of my past. OH, gotta run. Chase Field is calling my name. Play Ball!!!

Cheers, nca

*PS - Diamonbacks converted from Pinstripes to Sedona Red in 2006. That sounds like a Crayola color :( 

21 June 2003

Where were you on 21 June 2003?   If you were of my daughter's generation, the answer would be obvious. 

That was the initial day some 5,000,000 copies of the book 'Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix' were sold. The book would go on to sell some 200,000,000 copies.

I've lived a pretty long time, I had never seen anything like Potter Mania.

Yes, I was there in 1977 when the first Star Wars movie hit the scene, queuing up outside the Cinema Capri theatre in Phoenix Arizona with thousands of others to see the movie on day one.



JK Rowling used a three year gap between the 4th and 5th books in the Potter saga to build up a crescendo of anticipation unprecedented in the publishing industry. Helping to build on this demand were the Potter Movie versions already in production. By 2003, two of the books were already adapted for the silver screen. The 2 movie adaptions and three year gap created a perfect storm of demand for publication of the Order of the Phoenix.

I was there in the Barnes and Nobles on Val Vista drive on 21 June 2003, along with my daughter  and thousands of other Potterphiles.  My daughter had preordered the book , so she had been guaranteed a copy. Barnes and Nobles kept the doors open after midnight to allow the copies to be picked up as early as possible to satisfy the insatiable hoards. We had to go into B and N early in the day to secure a queue number for book pickup.

Many of the Potterphiles lined up that night wore various Potter related costumes including wizard cloaks and wands. B and N had also given away posters and other memorable event goodies, but my daughter was uninterested...she wanted the book and nothing else would substitute. No costume, no incentives, no fluff...just get her the book if you please.

Finally, about an hour after midnight, she had her copy in hand. She was happy, she was obsessed. She had the packing off and the pages turning on the ride home. By 4:00 AM I had to force her to take a break from reading and go to bed. Reluctantly she agreed, exhausted she was soon unconscious. And luckily so, because then I was able to secure her copy and read several chapters myself before she woke.

Yes, I too was hooked. I had told myself that I just wanted to be part of my daughters life, but honestly...I loved the books too.

There are many things I could say about JK Rowling, and this amazing and unprecedented time in the publishing industry. One thing sticks out most. The book was 870 pages in length, some 255,000 words. Ms. Rowling was able to turn on millions of youth the world over to my most favorite of all things, the written literary world. She challenged these youth to really read, really sink their teeth into a substantial novel.  For that, Ms. Rowling...Kotkas salutes you!

Cheers, nca

Big Iron Blues

************************************************************************
>>RESET
000001         EVALUATE TRUE
000002            WHEN ACRONYMS-OVERWHELM        =  'YES'
000003            WHEN FOREST-NO-TREES           =  'YES'
000004            WHEN SOCIAL-MEDIA-FRIENDS      >   REAL-FRIENDS 
000005            WHEN BLOGGING-PAST-MIDNIGHT    >  0
000006                 PERFORM 9999-TECHNOLOGY-PURGE
000007                    THRU 9999-EXIT
000008            WHEN OTHER
000009                 CONTINUE
000010         END-EVALUATE.              

The Last Page I

The Bletchley Circle

We live in an interesting an age where cable television networks, YouTube, and Netflix allow for a wider variety of high quality programming. It is amazing to be able to DVR shows like Mad Men, Walking Dead, Justified, The Americans, and other cable programming. It opens up an entire new world of choices, both good and bad. And it creates amazing competition for the other networks.

Will all this competition and variety, it still amazes me to be able to tune in to my local PBS affiliate and watch quality programming. For free (more or less). Commercial free (more or less). I have found great enjoyment in shows like 'Downton Abbey', 'Antiques Roadshow', 'Masterpiece', and the various Ken Burns' documentaries.

Most recently I am enjoying the PBS production 'The Bletchley Circle'. This is a quality production with beautiful production qualities, lovely period settings and costuming, and a great story line.

Set 8 years after World War II, in an austere and still bomb damaged London, the show tells the tale of four former female code-breaking analysts. Blessed with various natural talents that were nurtured during service in the war, the women are now living a variety of domestic and sedate post war lives. They become entangled tracking a clever and dangerous serial killer, and they must renew their own talents to assist Scotland Yard in tracking the villain down.

This is an excellent example of PBS providing quality programming. If you get a chance, check it out. I highly recommended it.

Thanks again PBS.

Cheers, NCA

Benediction

Fictional life in Holt Country Colorado has some new characters in the latest book ]Benediction' by Kent Haruf. Therer is 'Dad Lewis', the aging proprietor of the local hardware store. There is also a new preacher in town, the radical Rob Lyle, and their two families make up the backbone of the new novel Benediction.

The novel starts off with a definition of the word 'Benediction'; “the utterance of a blessing, an invocation of blessedness.”  I looked up other definitions of 'Benediction' and confirmed that the 'Benediction' usually comes at the end of a Christian service...but this novel does not feel like an end. There is one major ending in this novel, but most of the plot leaves one hanging, leaving the reader feeling that he only knows a small portion of the story.


The version I read was on 7 cd's as an audio book. The reader, Mark Bramhall is capable and captures the dialect and cadence of rural Colorado well. However, the reader seems to carry a single emotion through the entire reading, one of sadness and loss and of aging. Yes, there are all three of those in the story, but there is more. There is joy in life and place, as evidenced by one remarkable scene where 4 women aged between 8 and 80 decide to skinny dip in a muddy and algae enabled cattle watering hole. There is peace and coming to grips with life aspect to this. The reader could have done a bit more with the joyful aspects of the  book.

The author uses beautiful language and stunning imagery to capture a time and a place and a passing into eternity. I have also ready 'Eventide' and 'Plainsong' (mentioned in a previous post) by the same author and I enjoyed all three. If lovely language and good storytelling are enough for you as reader, then I highly recommend this book, however don't go expecting a book heavy with plot, you won't find that here.

Cheers, NCA

p.s. A recent yahoo post about 10 books for the 21st century every man should read includes mention of three novels by Haruf and two other books I have read. Interestingly, they mention 'The Road' by Cormac McCarthy....one of my favorite authors...but I found 'The Road' less interesting then McCarthy's other novels...primarily 'The Border Trilogy' and 'No Country For Old Men'. to be fair,  only 'No Country' was written in the 21st century. I do appreciate someone out there taking 'men' into consideration when mentioning literature....we do exist too...in a world of 50 Shades of Grey, Twilight, and Nora Roberts.

.COM WIth the Enemy

Between book requests at my local library, I simply browsed through the 'book on tape' racks and picked up something that sounded like it could be in my preferred genre. I don't like to be caught without a book on tape on my daily 45 minute each way commute to work. Whatcaught my eye was "Enemy of God" by Robert Daley. What caught my eye on the back cover was what appeared to be a book about the suspicious death of an activist priest, Frank Redmond. Murder, Catholic Priests, that seemed to work for my eclectic appetite.

A chapter or two in, I realised...I've read this one before some time back. That faint familiar feeling, and the lack of surprise as the virtual pages were read (Pretty effectively By Robert Daley). It is funny how we sometimes find ourselves drawn to the same old books unknowingly.

In this case, the fact that I had read before did not deter me. Though the who-done-it mystery was gone, and the plot twists were not cloaked, the story was indeed engaging.

The story revolves around four high school boys,, members of the swimming team and close friends at a Catholic High School in New York City. The death of a grown up version of one of these boys instigates an investigation. The story shifts often from the distant past and the current investigation, and the author is quite adept and this shifting in time and place.

Enjoyable on many levels, my impression after rereading was that the story was quite engaging and well told, both by the author and the vocal talent. The story too, touches a nerve and memories of my Catholic youth.

Though I never attended a Catholic High School or Jesuit College as did the 4 main characters of this story, many of my friends did. Though the Jesuit brainwashing these boys encountered never took place for me, I am familiar with much of the process. All this helped make the story quite vivid in my mind.

The character Frank Redmond could have been someone I knew in my youth. I remember meeting someone at Phoenix College who applied to seminary to become a priest. I remember how awkward and young he seemed, and his choosing a life of religious dedication and celibacy really bothered me at the time. I remember saying a prayer to my Heavenly Father to protect this vessel that he had set apart. My youthful experience with priests was not evil or suspect, but I never did feel comfortable in that world. Though my brothers were altar boys, and at least one attended Catholic High School, I never felt comfortable in that world and never walked those paths.

Good story. This was not so much a murder mystery, it was more a study of faith and growing up under the influence of Catholicism. It was also a love story, and the effects of the Catholic church on sensitive and susceptible Catholic youths.

Two thumbs up if this type of story interests you.

Cheers...NCA

P.S. On the subject of Confession: I remember my 'First Confession' as a Catholic in Catholic elementary school. It just never took for me. I think at most I may have done the act of Confession two or three times after the initial, and never since I finished elementary school.  My adopted religion has  a policy on something akin to confession too. However, I can not personally adhere to confession to an interceding party in either form. My sins don't tend to be extremely serious in nature. In the world of sins, mine would be mostly of a personal nature, though certainly I am sure I have sinned too against my neighbor. My sins against God himself would be rare. It seems that if I am to sin to harm myself, then I should deal with those on my own. If I should sin against my neighbor, then my confession should be to my neighbor. Those against God, those are the ones that might, in theory, require an intercessor...but I prefer to deal directly with my Heavenly Father on those.

What is your opinion on this subject?

Still The One

My spousal unit had bought me tickets to the Shania Twain concert at Caesars Palace. We stayed at the Palace and enjoyed the show over a weekend.

The show was spectacular. It played off of themes from various of her Music Videos over the years. This included riding on two live horses in separate parts. It also include a grand entrance on a video, then a real motorcycle flying over the stage. The songs chosen were most of her top hits over the years.

In one set of songs, her husband draws fans from the upper tier down to sit around a campfire and sing songs with her. This include even the real scent of campfire. It is a charming set.

During the show there were two journeys into the audience by Shania, she sang as she walked around shaking hands and meeting the audience. I must admit, I was drawn to join in the hand-shakers. I found Shania engaging and beautiful. My wife was laughing at me as she noticed my excitement.

Check out the show if you get the chance. I give it two thumbs up.

March 2013: 19, 20, 23, 24, 26, 27, 29, 30
April 2013: 2, 3, 5, 6, 9, 10
May 2013: 14, 15, 18, 19, 21, 22, 25, 26, 28, 29, 31
June 2013: 1

Cheers, NCA

Mystery Man On Rooftop Is Bigfoot?

I do not intend to make light of a national tragedy. I saw flags at half-mast at McDonald's today, a sober reminder of the events that occurred at the Boston Marathon yesterday. My heart goes out to the victims and family. But a day later and people are already posting about a Mystery Man on the rooftop during the tragedy.

The Internet age, along with everyone carrying digital camera technology and we now have conspiratory theorists and amateur detectives speculating on the mystery man? Was he one of the terrorists?

Maybe he is bigfoot? Could the terrorists be led by an organization of bigfoot warriers?

Could be.

Or could be maybe we should let the authorities do their jobs.

There was another recent example of this...the infamous victim's eye photograph in the Jodi Arias trial. Speculation is that a study of the victim's eye may reveal truths about his murder.

Or maybe we have all seen just too many episodes of CSI and Bones.

In other stories, I read recently where people are studying google satellite photos and seeing odd shapes. This includes jet planes in parking lots and other oddities.

As we get more and more advanced technologically, are we getting less and less realistic, less grounded with reality? Less street smart?

This reminds me of the Fritz Leiber fantasy story 'Rime Isle', where the two main characters (Fafhrd and The Grey Mouser) are both afflicted by 'gods' with curses. One is cursed with an obsession for the mundane and trivial. The other is cursed with an obsession with the far reaching and obscure. They must battle with their curses before they get their mojo back.

Perhaps, we need to battle these same curses. As technology savvy modern Americans, are we becoming too obsessed with the mundane and trivial, or too hooked on the obscure?

Cheers, nca.

Left Outer Join

Fairly famous golfer Phil Mickelson is my favorite PGA Tour Pro. I know, I know..I am an ASU homer to the core. Unapologetic. But Phil is an exciting player to watch, his tendency to go for it with certain impossible (unadvised) shots makes him somewhat unique in the golfing world.With 40+ wins and 4 'Major' victories he is a worthy opponent at all times.

40+ is a lot of wins. But then, he golfs in the age of Tiger Woods, who is sitting at almost 80 PGA victories, along with 14 'Major' victories. So, as is the norm for me, I am once again rooting for the underdog.

Does this have to be so this time? At about half the total PGA victories, and less then half the 'majors', there is something I wonder. Yes, this is me now...who takes me serious anyway. But, Phil golfs as a lefty, always has. BUT....Phil is naturally...Right-Handed. He learned to golf left handed as he walked through the greens and fairways with his father, taking his lessons from his dad eye-to-eye.

So, hypothetically, what if Phil were to....take a page right out of Princess Bride and switch his 'sword' around to the other side? The dark side. I know, all the lefties in the world are surely offended. Blasphemy! But, Inigo Montoya almost pulled it off...

Tiger: Then Why Are You Smiling

Phil: Because I know something you don't know

Cheers, NCA

Kotkas Coined Term I

"Lactose Intolerable" - Used to describe lactating Mothers who can't seem to stop talking about it ...ever. This includes posting about it on Facebook, posting pictures.

Hit and Run

For a time I worked part time nights as a Computer Operator. This was in a ticket office in down town Tempe Arizona. I would come in for a few hours each night to back up the system. Many nights I would not leave to go to our home in Mesa until 1 or 2 in the morning.

At that time I was driving a Chevy Long bed Pickup Truck. It was old and a bit clunky, but it was built like a brick-house. It had a solid heavy duty bumper on the back that jutted out like battering ram. Tailgaters would need to be pretty brave to risk challenging me from the rear.

Driving home one cold rainy winter night on Apace Blvd., the truck conked out and stalled....right in the middle of the road.

No power, and raining, I wanted to get the pickup out of the road. So, I put the truck in neutral and got behind the truck and started pushing. Slowly rolling the truck forward, with the steering wheel slightly angled toward the curb, I had my thighs churning. Apache was deserted that late at night, quiet and drizzling. There was no other cars or pedestrians around in any direction.

 A still small voice came over me, whispering for me to get out of the road quick. I have always been one that believes in listening to promptings, and admittedly I was in a precarious spot. So I released from the Chevy and moved quickly to the sidewalk. Within seconds a sedan came speeding toward the exact spot where I had been standing. It banged lightly into the back of the bumper, ricocheted back a car length, and then took off again. I'm not sure how much his front-end was damaged, I could not see it. And then, the sedan stopped in the middle lane about 200 yards down the road. I think the driver may have been looking back, maybe to see if I was ok. I had barely moved out of the way in time. I was ok, and that truck with that solid bumper was fine. Though he had not hit my truck too hard, if I had been standing between his car and the bumper I probably would have been halved.

After idling for a few minutes, the car drove on. I was pretty shaken up. I don't know if he would have actually stopped and helped me if I had been hit. It is just as likely that I would have been a it and run victim.

Still small voice? My Mom might probably say that I and episode of ESP or that some ghostly kin had been there to warn me. Some people would maybe say an angel was watching over me. I admit, I don't know for sure what warned me, but I join the ranks of my own church who say it was the Holy Spirit prompting me in the 'still small voice'.

1 KINGS 19

And he said, Go forth, and stand upon the mount before the Lord. And, behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord; but the Lord was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the Lord was not in the earthquake:

 12 And after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire a ^astill small ^bvoice.

What do you think?  I'd love to read your comments. Read about some other 'miracles' I have experienced here, and here.

A Saint I Ain't

I have a standard reply when people casually, jokingly, refer to me as 'St. Nick'. A Saint I Ain't.  People are always adding the word 'Saint' to my name. I thought my reply is appropriate, it is the literal truth and it rhymes. Or it used to be the truth. Does having a Saint relic inside your body make you closer to being canonized?

What does the Catholic Church (Church Of My Youth) Require For Canonization?

• Heroic Virtue...hmm. Not me.
• Posthumous Miracle. Not yet. I'm not quite toast yet. That is a miracle.
• Martyrdom... Well, people tell me to quit being a martyr. But no.
• Second Posthumous Miracle. Nope.

So, I guess I am not likely to become a Saint as a Catholic. The Church I attend now is The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. So, does that get me the official 'Saint' title, that and the relic?

The relic I am thinking of is my St. Jude Model 31MJ-501 Heart Valve.

So, who is this St. Jude, and why has he invaded my Saintly Body?

St. Jude, one of the original 12 Apostles,  the patron saint of desperate situations and hospitals. Possibly even a brother of J.C., according to some accounts.

Hmm. That is one serious looking Saint dude. And there he is in the picture, holding his hand over his ticker. They even have an official Catholic prayer to Jude... 

"May the Sacred Heart of * be adored, glorified, loved and preserved now and forever. Sacred Heart of * have mercy on us, Saint Jude worker of Miracles, pray for us, Saint Jude helper and keeper of the hopeless, pray for us, Thank you Saint Jude."

Hmm. (I edited out the Saviors name so I don't get too sacrilegious on this post) But there they go, bringing up heart again. Hopeless, that's me. Desperate, oh yeah, that's me. Is all this a coincidence? A Miracle?

Well, I have miracles. I posted previously about one miracle. But, this whole heart thing might be another one. I had this heart murmur thing all my life....but it was not until I hit 50 that they diagnosed the problem, that it was life threatening. And in surgery to fix the heart problem, the natural valve failed and they had to replace it with this St. Jude contraption. The things the modern medical fields can do in the name of healing now...all the procedures and gadgets and scopes and medicine and implants...miracles all, without any doubt.

My heart surgeon credits my wife for insisting I go to my home care Dr. to get the murmur checked out. He also credits my home care Dr. for referring me to the Cardiologist. So the miracles start to pile up, right wife, right physician, right cardiologist and right surgeon, all saying all the right things. An angel out there watching over me? Angels all around me.

Late at night and the house is quiet. The ladies living here all asleep and I can here St. Jude Medical device 31MJ-501 ticking away like a Swiss clock. This  means that I'm still alive, still shuffling to the beat on this mortal coil. Survive for another day.

Thankful to Angels, to St. Jude, and to my Father in Heaven.

Cheers, nca

Change Up, Just A Little Outside

Wow...too many serious posts in a row. Needed something silly to lighten the load.

From a childhood in a low income large family, I have always found it appropriate to look at all alternatives to solve a problem. That is probably not so unusual. Sometimes, the alternatives my brain comes up somehow come out even more outside of the box then is necessary  And if I go with the thought before really thinking it out...I can put myself in some strange situations.

Case in Point:

Spring in the Valley of the Sun can be totally awesome. Nice weather early. And Spring Training. Yes, 15 major league teams make their preseason home in the Valley, meaning there is a whole lot of baseball going on. And let's face it...I love baseball.

So one spring, when the older girls were not yet teens, the three of us made a trip out to Scottsdale to see the Giants play. We had thought we would sit up on the rolling grass fields in the outfield. Maybe shag a fly ball  eat lunch, enjoy the weather and the game. So we packed a lunch and headed out to old Scottsdale.

When we were entering the stadium, the gatekeeper told us we were not allowed to bring lunches in. WHAT??? We had brought lunches and blankets for just one reason....

Alternative Brain Cells in Gear, click click click. Split second decision, speedier then a fastball...I had an idea.

I sent the girls in on their own, around to a side of the gate where no one could see us, and I tossed the lunches over the fence. Problem solved...NCA style.

A couple years later, at a Church Young Women's meeting where members of the Stake Presidency had invited us to the Stake President's house for a Fireside....some of the girls had prepared special presentations for honoring their parents, particularly the values taught by their parents. When my oldest daughter had her turn...she first talked about my wife...how what a good Mother she was, how she had taught her good Motherhood skills, cooking skills etc. Then she brought me up. She said I had taught her how to think outside of the box. And she told the story I just related about getting our lunches past security at the Spring Training Game.

This was in front of the Stake President and the Young Women's Presidency, and my wife.

Yep.

Cheers, NCA.