I was inspired to create my own weblog by these:
I also read and contribute to these:
Read my introductory weblog entry.|
Apple announced last evening that their profits for the quarter would be less than they had expected. There will still be a profit, but it will be not so high.
This morning, Apple stock has dropped over 50%!
I don't understand what people who owned Apple stock were thinking. How could they think it was worth $50 yesterday and just because of a dip in profits (not a loss) it's really only worth half that.
I think I'm gonna go out and buy some Apple stock.
I love my TIVO. But in this particular case it failed me!
I discovered SURVIVOR late. I only became a fan in time for the last three original episodes. So I hade been looking forward to seeing the repeats.
I programmed my TIVO to record all 13 of them. But FOX outsmarted it.
My TIVO is also programmed to record THAT 70s SHOW. But that shouldn't conflict with SURVIVOR cause it's on at a different time, and my TIVO didn't complain of a conflict when I programmed it... But...
Because FOX scheduled multiple nights of 70s SHOW marathons in the same time-slot as SURVIVOR, my TIVO decided to record the 70s SHOWs instead. And before I'd realized what was happenning I'd missed about 4 SURVIVOR eps.
I was a skinny kid. Not just thin, but always-got-teased-in-the-hall skinny.
Throughout my childhood and young adulthood, I could eat anything I wanted, and I still stayed skinny. I was more than a little embarrssed by this physique. I hated the teasing. I wished I had a bit more bulk to my body.
When I reached age 30 things changed. Over a very short period of time I noticed my metabolism change. I started to gain weight. And passing age 40 the wheels really came off.
Like most men I gained most of my weight through my middle. My stomach, waist, lower back. It also shows up in my face, my jaw and chin.
Over the years I've made periodic attempts at getting/staying fit. But it's always been an up-down thing. Usually more up than down. I knew I was somewhat overweight, but I didn't think it was all that far out of hand. But on a routine visit to my doctor I asked him what he thought a good weight would be for me. At the time I was about 185. I thought he'd say around 170.
"155," he said. !!!
After the doctor's visit I started to think about this alot, but not really do anything about it. I continued to make sporadic attempts to reduce, but actually experienced a slowly creeping increase.
One moring in the spring of 2000 I weighed myself. I was heading off for a different doctor's appointmnt. This time to get my FAA Pilot's Medical renewed. On my bathroom scale, in shorts and bare feet, I weighed 198. Yuck! But the last straw was that the routine weighing I received at the doctor's office came in at 205!
Well that was IT!
My shock at breaking 200, combined with my admiration/jealousy at the fitness/weigh-loss programs I saw a couple of friends succeeding at, helped give me the discipline I needed.
So long-story-short, I changed my diet so that I became more conscious about what I ate: I ate smaller quantities (but still ate three meals a day), and I developed a regular running program. It's working.
This week I reached 173. I've lost 25 lbs since the spring! Now I know that in the scheme of things, what with crash diets and weight loss programs, 25 lbs is not so much weight loss for 6 months. But more important to me is that I've changed my lifestyle too. I'm able to eat less without feeling deprived. And my running program is both enjoyable and fine-tuned to not injure my chronically fragile ankles and knees.
My immediate goal is to get down to 165, and never go above that again. And I hope to get close to 155 from time to time.
This is going real well.
Mark Burnett is a Genius!.
Last week I was in Boston and attended two Red Sox games.
I'm a huge Red Sox Fan. Everything they say about us is true. We keep coming back, year after year, in spite of being disappointed over and over.
They won the first game I went to and that was good. It was the first game of an unusual five-game homestand against the Cleveland Indians (who are rapidly becoming the new "official Red Sox rival", replacing the Yankees who have held the honor for SO MANY years).
The second game I went to was actually the third game of the series. We had lost Game 2 in a heartbreakingly rare occasion where Pedro Martinez actually lost a game. And we didn't win Game 3, my second game. We pretty much HAD to win this third game to stay in contention for the playoff.
Things were going pretty well for the first four innning or so. Then our starting pitcher faltered. Cleveland scored a few runs, but that was OK, we still weren't out of it. But then it happened. The event that will be looked back on as THE END of the Red Sox' 2000 season.
With bases loaded, left-handed relief pitcher Rheal Cormier basically went to sleep on the mound, and the runner on 3rd base, Omar Vizquel, stole home. By the time Cormier regained consciousness it was too late to even make a throw to home.
You could feel the energy drain out of the crowd. There were a few more chances in the game were the Sox threatened to come back, but it wasn't the same. The season was over.
Is it me? Or is the new Pontiac Aztec a remarkably-ugly and stupid-looking vehicle?
It's fitting that I begin my weblog today. Because today I also I started to prepare to move myself three-thousand miles.
Twelve years ago I traveled from New England, where I had lived all my life, to live in California, for "maybe a year".
After a few years here I decided that I would never leave. I really love the climate and the geography. The temperature seldom even approaches freezing, and the sun shines most every day. Within a few hour's drive of my home in the San Francisco Bay Area I can visit ocean, farmland, moutains, desert, forest, rivers and lakes.
Oh, I've been back to New England many times. Two or three times a year, to visit family and friends. And until a few years ago I always happily retreated west at the end of each visit. But things change.
I should be embarassed that this surprises me, but I've really enjoyed seeing my parents on each of my recent visits. They are getting older, and I'd like to see them more often in the time that we have left.
And my friends. Even though I abandoned them to go west, they still seem genuinely pleased to see me on each visit. We pick up our friendships as if I'd never left. I've made few great friends since I moved west. But after twelve years I still have a dozen friends in New England who are closer to me than any friend I have made here.
And the kids. My brothers and sisters, and the friends I grew up with, are well along on building their families. They have great kids. Nieces and nephews, and kids who just call me uncle. I always wanted my own kids, and I haven't given up. But I'm growing to accept the possibility that it may not happen for me. So why am I living so far away from the lives of these great kids, who are already part of my life, and who seem to admire me?
For two or three years now I've flirted with the idea of going back. But I've put it off. The weather, I'd say. Or my work. But I've decided that I shouldn't kid myself. I want to be back there. For many reasons. And if I am rejecting all the great things and people back there, in favor of nice weather, then I'm really pretty shallow. So I've decided. Time to plan and prepare.
Go east old man, go east.
Copyright 2000 Jack Hodgson
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