Jim Carson's Blog.

Oshkosh (2001)

jim — Sun, 22 Apr 2012 20:24:52 +0000

After finishing my commercial pilot rating, I was really hankering for owing my own airplane to avoid all of the randomization with renting and, ultimately, go someplace far. That destination would be Oskhosh, WI, for EAA’s Air Venture. For various reasons, not limited to prolonged time being unable to use the restroom and wanting to spend more time with the grandparents, my wife and kids flew out commercially to Chicago. This meshed well with my evil plan of not actually flying into the controlled chaos of EAA Oshkosh. Bwuhahaha.My trip began really early in the morning. So early, the controller who didn’t have my IFR flight plan was completely reasonable about filing it for me as I was taxiing on the runway. Adrenaline pumping for my longest. trip. evar. I dutifully wrote down the clearance I thought I already filed.I wasn’t expecting problems with the weather, but while climbing southeast above the mountains, I encountered icing. They quickly cleared me to climb higher. The best part of this was popping out just above the clouds. It was mag-nificent.

Popping out on top of the clouds at 13,000', somewhere near Yakima

After flying a mostly straight line between navigation aids, I had blue skies and flat land all around me. The coffee I drank at 4am had completed its metabolic journey, so to speak. It was time for a … fuel stop at Twin Falls, Idaho.

Runway 25, Twin Falls, ID

After a good stretch, I headed in a general easterly-ish direction. Salt Lake Center handed me off to Denver Center, who said “flight following discontinued, enjoy your day, VFR scum.” Well, perhaps not that last two words. I continued my merry way east.

Wyoming Alien Landscape

As the sun heated up the very brown, square state called “Wyoming,” the air got bumpier. At one point, I donned the oxygen mask and climbed up to 17,500, the highest I could do without filing an instrument flight plan. It helped some, but after an hour of being knocked around, I wanted a break and landed at Rawlins.

Runway 22, Rawlins, WY

Not looking forward to more bumpiness, I lollygagged on the ground. When I finally took off, I discovered the true meaning of Density Altitude, one of those concepts that they drill into flight training, but most low-altitude fliers never have to deal with.

high altitude + warm weather = crappy aircraft performance

Even with the turbo assist, I was having a hard time eking out more than 200 fpm of climbing without the engine temperature eking into the red zone. I’m sure I could have done some chandelles to gradually build up altitude — and doing this in Rawlins’ near empty airspace would have been okay — but instead, I turned it around can called it a day.The fixed-base operator (FBO) were totally cool about it, telling me how to get to a motel before tossing me the keys to the truck they kept around for visitors. Oh, and there was cowboy poetry in town tonight.Experiences like this are what you remember about trips.

Sunrise over Nebraska

I topped off the truck’s gas tank and left very, very early in the morning. Nebraska was a lot prettier than I had expected it to be. As the morning warmed, I could see cumulonimbus clouds forming to the south.

: Runway 13, Sioux Falls (IA)

After departing Sioux Falls, I noticed I my engine power gauge was reading zero, even though I was clearly aloft and not having any problems maintaining altitude. (This would later be diagnosed as “the thingie connecting the gauge to the engine thingie broke.”)

It's easier to see out the left window

The lower I got, the more bugs met my windshield. This is something you just don’t think about when flying through The Square State.

: Runway 2R, Dupage (IL)

Victory!

On the ground at West Chicago/DuPage airport

After spending a few days at Oshkosh (with a rental home in Fond du Lac — the best way to go) and the rest of the week in Chicago with family, I headed home. I had a late start departing, stringing the trip out to three days with overnight stops in Rochester and Billings.

Map of my travels

From	TO	ID	Duration	Altitude
Seattle	Twin Falls, ID	KTWF	3.4	13,000
Twin Falls	Rawlins, WY	KRWL	2.6	11,500 – 17,500
Rawlins	Sioux City, IA	KSUX	3.7	9,500
Sioux City, IA	West Chicago/DuPage, IL	KDPA	2.8	7,500
Total: 12.5 hours over two days

The return trip went… very quickly because one of my ex-coworkers wanted to tag along. Except for photos taken of my landings, I don’t remember a lot about it.

From	TO	ID	Duration	Altitude
Chicago	Rochester, MN	KRST	2.0	6,500
Rochester	Rapid City, SD	KRAP	4.1	10,500
Rapid City	Billings, MT	KBIL	2.6	14,500
Billings	Spokane, WA	KGEG	3.3	14,500
Spokane	Seattle Boeing Field, WA	KBFI	2.0	12,000
Total: 14 hours over three days

Takeaways:

The country is very big. There’s a lot of not much to do along the way. I was glad I brought music with me since I could patch it through the avionics panel. When I wasn’t talking to controllers (or they to me), I could jam out to Moby or Zeppelin or Neil Diamond.
Don’t spend so much time planning the route! My idealized trek was on a more northerly heading, with camping at Voyageur’s National Park. This was scuttled because of weather. When I originally did this, I had a stack of VFR sectional maps for the route plus theoretical side trip. WAC charts cover 2x the scale and would have been fine. Low-altitude IFR maps were much more useful because they have all the minimum altitudes and navigation aids calculated for you. If I did it today, I would just use this. Play music, shoot anthropomorphic birds at pigs, and navigate in one package at 1/20th the mass.
Savor side trips. The most memorable part of the trip outbound was the unplanned overnight in Rawlins. Great people.

DIY Mocha

jim — Mon, 26 Mar 2012 00:29:12 +0000

I’ve been pretty happy with the AeroPress (thanks for the suggestion, Scott!) for in-home mocha making. For the first several dozen cups, I dutifully followed the instructions. It worked pretty well. But as one who gets bored with routine, I experimented and spoke with other AeroPress owners who have deviated from the norm. The subject came up a few weeks ago, so I thought I’d elaborate with my own procedure.First, get some coffee beans. If you have access to raw beans, I’d encourage you to try roasting them (here are some instructions). It’s fun, and you get to totally trash an old pot.Pre-roasted beans are also fine. While geocaching on Vashon Island a few weeks ago, We stopped into the local coffeeshop for lunch and coffee. Both were excellent. On the way out, I had to pick up a pound for home experimentation. I have a mini-grinder, but the woman behind the counter offered to grind them for me with their industrial-strength grinder. (I know a purist would grind just before use. I don’t always have the time.)

Taking a cue from beer brewers, Vashon Roasterie chooses an evocative name for their coffee: Santa's fourth reindeer.

Next, start some water boiling. There are enough tea drinkers in the household that we have an electric kettle. (Truth be told: when I heard about the concept, I thought it was … not the best idea. But now I love it.) There is no reason you can’t stay analog.Assemble the Aeropress. Except… we’ll work top down. Put the plunger in a bit and turn it upside down.Add two scoops coffee. The Aeropress comes with a plastic funnel, but I don’t want to have to clean any more than necessary. Besides, I can eyeball it well-enough. Usually.The water should soon be 175°F;, but please feel free to experiment. I have found that warmer produces a bitterer coffee. (Let’s also note that you don’t want to pour cold milk in first – for reasons that I don’t want to go into. (*cough* failed experiment *cough*)In the immortal words of the Eccentric Alaskan Barista, “Pour, baby, pour!”Now stir, baby, stir.This would be a good time to heat up some milk. I fill up a standard ceramic coffee cup and microwave it for 1 1/2 minutes.Now, prepare thy travel mug. I used to use chocolate syrup, but discovered it’s just as easy to stir in sugar and cocoa. While Brownian motion is occurring, add the sugar to the travel mug:And now the cocoa:Put the paper filter disc in the plastic porous thingie and run under the sink to get it wet. Slide the filter around if necessary so it’ll come out even. Then screw on the filter thing. Be careful doing this because pressing too hard will spill precious coffee.Position the Aerobie over the receptacle and gradually press! (Note to self: it’s really hard to do this and hold a camera without spilling a drink.)Dispose of the grinds. (Note to self: see previous note to self.)) If I didn’t hate gardening so much, I would collect these for my garden.Clean up.Pour in the cup of warm milk, stir, and enjoy on the way to work.Ingredients:

2 scoops finely-ground coffee 1 t of Pernigotti cocoa 2 t of sugar 1 C warm milk to top off the cup Whipped cream (optional, best for in-home consumption)

Life to a travel bug: Porcine Aviation: 2009 – 2012

jim — Sun, 18 Mar 2012 06:55:25 +0000

About three years ago, on the way to our summer camping trip to Mt. Rainier, I launched a travel bug:

George is young, enthusiastic, and poor as a student

George’s stated (and optimistic) goal was to visit its eccentric cousin who spends his days in Concourse A of Terminal 3 in Cincinnati’s airport doing street performance art for spare change. The Concourse has had a rough couple of years, being closed in 2010 (because Delta and Northwest merged) before being reopened in 2011 as its sibling, Terminal 2, closed.

Toss a buck into the case and he moves around.

And so has George. Shortly after being sent on his journey, he was picked up by someone who then took a two-year hiatus from geocaching. At one point before GeoWoodstock VIII (held here), I offered to send a self-adressed, stamped envelope if he would mail it back to me and I would get the pig moving again.Well after I had given up hope, the person dropped it off in a park way south of us. A couple of days later, 2nd1of3 brought George back in circulation. I always appreciate photos on travel bugs and if there’s any effort in a bug, try to reciprocate.

Our pig is black on course (Courtesy: 2nd1of3)

2nd1of3 moved him pretty quickly, where rottenwood gave him a lift. Being on the road for two years makes the best of us gamey. So, apparently, was George. Rottenwood gave our friend a much-needed bubble bath:

George is as happy as a pig in ... bubble bath. (Courtesy of Rottenwood)

George was soon picked up 1nascarnut, who took him to a dozen or so caches before dropping him off at the Triple-X travel bug hotel, a scant 2 miles from home. Before I could drop by, a local caching couple, Antje & Brian, picked him up.They showed George a good time, teaching him how to swing on northwest jungle vines:

Pigs in trees, wheeeeee! (courtesy of Antje & Brian)

And discovering kindred spirits:

When *two* pigs fly. (courtesy of Antje & Brian)

And general jolliness with other friends:

Billy, stop making faces at the camera! (Courtesy of Antje & Brian)

Before sending George on his way, Antje & Brian taught him to ride a bike.

Look, dad, no hands! Wheeeeeee! (Courtesy of Antje and Brian)

And, sadly, just over a month later, it appears George has gone on to bigger and better things. The cache has been officially declared missing in action. Many thanks to fellow cachers 2nd1of3, rottenwood and Antje & Brian for providing photos along the way.

Final Approaches

jim — Fri, 16 Mar 2012 05:35:47 +0000

I did my initial flight training at an uncontrolled airfield outside of the Austin city limits. It was very relaxing to go out after work once a week and fly in a random direction to Palacios, San Angelo, Waco, College Station or wherever I could get to and back in about three hours. There’s a lot of empty space in Texas, and the eastern part is very flat. Clear nights were a great time to fly.

Before it was KEDC, it was unattended-at-night 3R3, and you had to click three times to activate runway lighting.

After some life changes, I moved up to the Pacific Northwe’t. This doesn’t look like rural Austin, Toto. The airspace is a lot busier here.

In Russia, restricted airspace violates you!

I soon came to the realization that to fly more than two months a year, and to bone up on my precise, staccato radio lingo, I ought to get an instrument rating. Thus began a lot more training at Boeing field. After spending an hour under the hood folowing-the-needles, which is the most boring thing in flying, I’d finally have an occasional opportunity to look outside and land.

Runway 13R, Boeing (WA)

When I was just shooting approaches, I’d have my buddy Doug come along. Aside from the fun of two dudes flying, both of us could log the time. Our reward was landing for the proverbial $100 basket of clam chips at Bremerton:

Runway 17, Bremerton (WA) - coming in a little low, buddy.

After finishing the rating, my radio work, timing and scanning were great, but flying patterns and awareness without 1950s navigation technology was really sloppy. Like this awkward left downwind to Hoquiam. Sure, there’s nothing to run into around here, but, dang, I could at least pretend to fly a rectangle.

Runway 27, Hoquiam (WA) - No, we don't need call in the Runway Jack

The next step was a commercial rating, a potpourri of “learnings for make benefit of smooth maneuvers.” In many ways, it’s a lot more fun because you get to fly faster airplanes with retractible gear, learn practical maneuvers like chandelles, and hone your smoothness. Among the requirements is a “long cross country trip at least 250nm from start.” I did two of these, one east to Kalispell, and one south to Ashland, Oregon. As a bonus, I got to land at Portland’s airport:

Runway 28R, Portland (OR)

So when that was all done, I got snookered into airplane ownership. Well, actually co-ownership, which only slows the hemorrhaging of money. After getting comfortable in the new plane (from which all of these pictures were taken), I scheduled a long, cross-country trip to general aviation mecca, Oshkosh, WI. Only since I didn’t want to land three-at-a-time sans radio at Oshkosh, I’d stop in the Chicago area, and hang out with my in-laws as we made the trek up there.

Cyan > (Magenta + Yellow)

jim — Mon, 12 Mar 2012 04:47:25 +0000

I have noticed that my Lexmark printer consistently uses 2 ¹/₂ times the Cyan ink cartridges as the other colors (magenta and yellow), which ruins my plans to buy the bulk pack of all three. The consumption is not quite as much as the black cartridge, which I expect, and can forgive as it’s one quarter the price.When I asked, Lexmark support offered:

Most cartridge nozzles are drilled with a stamp technology that punches small holes into the printhead. While cheap and fast for the manufacturer, this process creates uneven, misshapen holes that can adversely effect ink flow and print quality.Lexmark cartridge nozzles are drilled using a special process called EX2, or laser-excimer drilling. The holes are individually drilled with laser precision in order to ensure the most accurate ink distribution to produce the sharpest, high-quality images from your printer. This process takes a little more time and money, which impacts the final cost of the cartridge.

Um, okay. But then they added the Scooby-Doo-equivalent to “rirontrow.” I am not printing photos of blueberries on Blue’s Clues across a blue-sky backdrop – just normal stuff like letters, homeworks, an occasional geocache page.Theories? (Absurd or serious)

Mocha: Hot Chocolate for Grown-ups

jim — Fri, 09 Mar 2012 09:20:40 +0000

A mocha is 10x more enjoyable when I can forgo the ubiquitous, car-friendly paper cup and slowly sip it from a ginormous glass cup. This was from a brunch Janet and I enjoyed at Café Pirouette in Bellevue.As I explained to the kids later, a mocha is hot chocolate with at least one shot of espresso.Simple DIY mocha:

1 T of Pernigotti cocoa – great stuff, you have to buy it by the ‘kilo’ 2 – 3 T of sugar 1T of cream 1/2 C warm milk to top off the cup 2 scoops coffee1. Assemble the AeroPress – I find it useful to put this together upside-down, plunger in and add coffee. 2. Add hot (175°F) water to the coffee and swirl. 3. Press into a cup with cocoa and sugar. Stir until mixed. 4. Add cream and milk. 5. Enjoy!

Review: iToS

jim — Thu, 08 Mar 2012 05:56:56 +0000

An iOS update landed on my phone Monday afternoon. Before installing, I was presented with this:

I’m… not going to read 64 pages of legal on my phone, so I clicked the Send by Email link. The resulting document pasted into Microsoft Word 2011 was 17,576 words, or approximately 35 pages, not including external references to: Claims of Copyright Infringement, Privacy policy landing page, iTunes store terms of service and the two support knowledge base links on Parental Controls and iOS restrictions.The plot is very dry. I wanted to take a trip when I finished reading through it all. 1*.

Cheese making class

jim — Wed, 07 Mar 2012 17:10:00 +0000

For my birthday, I took a cheese making class at PCC, the local organic food chain. While I’m a little frustrated at eco-snobbery vibe, it’s close and the classroom facilities are nice. If it were as fun to shop in as Whole Foods is on an empty stomach, I’d be in a far worse financial situation…They publish a quarterly-ish catalog of their classes. Lebanese cuisine filled up before I could decide, but cheese making was experimental cooking enough that I thought I’d give it a try.

Chef Jackie and the silent assistant

Chef Jackie was a lot of fun and a natural instructor. We’d be undertaking five cheeses. It didn’t sound like much.The first and most laborious recipe was Goat Milk Mozzarella. Jackie warned us that fresh free-range organic asbestos-free goat milk was in short supply as the goats were just finishing up nursing their kids. Its pH would likely be “off.” Through some shrewd negotiating skills, she procured a gallon of the liquid gold.

Goat Milk Mozzarella1t citric acid dissolved in 1/4 C cool water 1 gallon goat milk 1/4 rennet tablet dissolved in 1/4 C cool, unchlorinated, homogenized water (rennet is very effective at curdling, and must be diluted enough to let it distribute around the pot) 1/4 C salt1. Add the citric acid into the milk and mix thoroughly. 2. Heat the milk to 88F. 3. Add the disolved rennet into the milk and stir 15-20 seconds. Cover the pot with a lid and let the milk remain still 15 minutes while it coagulates. 4. Cut the curd into cubes around 1/2″ in size. Let the curds chat amongst themselves for 5 minutes. Apply low heat and stir gently to keep the curds separated. Heat them to 110F. The curds will shrink and stop talking. 5. Turn off the heat and allow the curds to rest for 10-15 minutes. 6. Drain the curds in a colander lined with cheesecloth. While they’re draining, heat a 1/2 gallon of water mixed with 1/4C salt to 170F. 7. Remove the curds from the cheesecloth and place them in the slotted spoon. Immerse in the hot water for 10 seconds. Remove them, and fold and knead the curd until it becomes smooth and elastic and stretches. If the curd doesn’t stretch like taffy, repeat. Shape the mozzarella into a ball and place it in ice water to cool. 8. When the cheese comes out really rubbery, buy some mozzarella goat cheese from the deli section.

We paused at step 3 to work on the Dry Buttermilk cheese. Came back and did step 5. Paused again for the Queso Blanco, then resumed again. It was pretty obvious from step 7 that things weren’t going well. She repeated it five times before producing something with the textured of cheese stick that had been sitting outdoors for a week. It was vaguely cheese-like in flavor, but the consistency of … not very good. To be fair, she warned us ahead of time.

Tools used. Not shown: rennet tablets. May cause spontaneous explosion or severe apathy towards Seattle sports teams. Use only as directed.

The next cheese was a dry buttermilk. Were it not for timing, this would have been a great one to start off with because, dang, it’s hard to screw up.

Dry Buttermilk (Makes half a pound)1 quart fresh buttermilk Cheesecloth1. In a medium-sized pot, heat the milk to 160F. Stir occasionally to prevent scorching 2. If the curds don’t separate, gradually increase the temperature to 180F. 3. Pour the curds into a colander with cheesecloth. Tie the corners into a knot and hang the bag to drain for 2-3 hours. 4. Add salt and herbs to taste.

Well, wow, like anyone can do that. Cheese victory dance!

Curds, ahoy!

The next cheese was a queso blanco. This is a drier cheese that’s sprinkled on top of Mexican food. It, too, was pretty darn easy.

Queso Blanco (Makes a fiesta)1 gallon whole milk 1/4C cider vinegar 4T kosher salt1. In a large pot, combine milk and salt. Heat the milk to 185F. Stir often to prevent scorching2. Slowly add the vinegar until the curds separate from the whey. Sometimes vinegar loses its mojo, and you might need to add a little more. 3. Ladle the curds into a colander with cheesecloth. Drain for 2-3 hours.

The penultimate cheese was a paneer. I’m told this is used in Indian cooking.While were making this, there was a sidebar on type of milk and their suitability for home cheese making. If obtained from a reliable, trustable source, raw milk is supposed to be the easiest to work with. There were hushed tones as some of the classmates were discussing where to score some fine ~~hemp seedlings~~ raw milk.Next on the dairy pecking order is vat-pasteurized. This is milk cooked to slowly at 145F to kill off the potential bovine tuberculosis, Q-fever, brucellosis, listeria, salmonella and botulism, but it’s cool enough that the milk bits are left mostly intact.Most milk in grocery stores is flash-pasteurized at 165F (but for a shorter period). The heat does damage the casein. (As we saw with the Dry Buttermilk recipe, heating it for a prolonged period is sufficient to cause curds to form.) Finally, ultra high-temperature pasteurization, the kind of milk that comes in a high-tech box, needs no refrigeration, and has an expiration date in the year 3000, is considered useless for cheesemaking. I have noticed, but not confirmed, that most of it is flavored, possibly to mask the aftertaste.

Paneer (Makes two pounds)1 gallon whole milk 8T lemon or lime juice (more may be required)1. In a large-sized pot, heat the milk to 200F. Stir often to prevent scorching 2. Reduce heat to low and stir in juice. Cook 15 seconds. If you don’t have clear separation of curds from whey, add a few more teaspoons of juice while gently increasing the heat. (This is where I just said “pffft” and put a lot in. Blammo, curds!) 3. Remove from the heat let rest for 5 minutes. 5. Ladle the curds into a cheesecloth. Hold the bag under a stream of water to rinse off excess juice. Tie the corners into a knot and gently twist to squeeze out additional liquid. 6. Hang the bag to drain for 2-3 hours. (You can optionally put a bowl of water on top of it to help squeeze out water.)

Three for four, our last cheese was a ricotta. It’s also very easy, and was my favorite.

Whole Milk Ricotta (Makes 1 1/2 – 2 pounds)1 t citric acid dissolved in 1/4 cool, unchlorinated water 1 t kosher salt 1 gallon whole milk Cheesecloth1. Add the citric acid and solt into the milk and mix thoroughly. 2. In a large epot, heat the milk to 185F. Stir often to prevent scorching 3. As soon as the curds and whey separate, turn off the heat. Allow to set, undisturbed for 10 minutes. 4. Line a colander with cheesecloth. Carefully ladle the curds into the cheesecloth. Tie the corners into a knot and hang the bag to drain for 20-30 minutes. The cheese is ready to eat immediately. You can store it in a covered container in the fridge for 1-2 weeks.

At the end of the class, the cheeses were served plain and mixed with stuff. In all, ten combinations (5 cheeses * served with|without herbs-n-spices) is much more cheese than a person should consume at 9:30 in the evening. My favorite was the ricotta.

Plate o' cheeses.

Pendleton

jim — Sat, 03 Mar 2012 23:30:44 +0000

Why on earth would I be looking forward to spending Memorial Day bicycling in Pendleton? Here’s one reason:

Blue Mountains (near Pendleton, OR)

This is a different view of the gorgeous terrain seen while climbing over Pendleton’s best view, Thorn Hollow road. I found this particular spot when visiting a geocache named “A Woman’s View.”This year’s Century Ride of the Centuries (aka “CRoC”) features the return of the overnight camping stop at the Bar M ranch. The ranch had closed down a few years ago before (apparently) being bought by a church.

And then there's the Oregon Trail...

Neon

jim — Thu, 01 Mar 2012 16:11:55 +0000

The neon is initially surreal but their planes feel more comfortable.

Wild Horses

jim — Wed, 29 Feb 2012 07:33:05 +0000

GC9165 - I-90 wild stallions ride again

I’ve been going through my vast collection of photos and came across this one. This is from a geocache overlooking the Columbia River Gorge. One can park at the rest stop and hike up the steep incline for a fabulous view of the surroundings, yet few do.

A Tale Of Three Hardware Stores

jim — Sun, 26 Feb 2012 23:46:16 +0000

It was the best of bargains, it was the worst of deals, it was the age of wisdom of crowds, it was the age of foolishness of the masses, it was the epoch of hope, it was the era of skepticism, it was the season of rain, it was the season of … more rain. — with apologies to Charles Dickens

While the kids work on (science | history) fair projects, I got out of the house to do maintenance on a geocache I adopted, buy double-sided tape (for the science fair board), and cruise for new tools for my birthday. My spouse doesn’t quite grok how buying tools is the forty-something male’s equivalent to nesting. The thing I really wanted was some Philips screwdrivers to replace the ones whose tips had worn off. If I found anything else, well…Stop 0: The geocache. Its first waypoint is cleverly done: metal tag on the side of a man-hole pipe — right out in the open, but oh-so-easily overlooked, even if you’re looking for it. I was hoping it was just covered by mother nature. However, after dislodging clover around the circumference, I conceded defeat. Replacing it will require some metal stamping tools and sheet metal. More for the shopping list! Stop 1: Harbor Freight Tools. If you want commodity products with burly brands like “Pittsburgh“, but only want to pay for limited usability, this is your place. For screwdrivers that I don’t want to strip the tips on… I’d keep shopping. However, for epoxy and metal stamp kit I expect to use no more than five times (such as repairing a geocache), it’s perfect. After considering the three-letter size options far longer than I should have, I went with the medium-sized set priced at $15. Another 33% was taken off at the register. The set is heavy, coated in a weird, viscous fluid whose smell I can’t quite wash off my hands, and claims the stamps will work up to 9000 times.

Shopping experience: no help offered or sought. Overall store organization takes some getting used to. Items on the shelves had price tags clearly displayed. Music played at uneven volumes throughout the store. It’s clear there’s a clientele who shops here regularly as people were looking for items enumerated in the ads.Check-out experience: they requested my ZIP code, then wanted to up-sell me to the Insight Track membership so I can have VIP access to their “parking lot sale.” Cashier was otherwise easy-going.Length of receipt: 10 3/4 inches.

Stop 2: Sears. The Harbor Freight Tools screwdrivers I received as a gift a few years ago were wearing out. Since I had a gift card, I wanted to get some good ol’ Made in USA and backed by a warranty.

Shopping experience: Help was offered, but they had to ask someone if they carried double-sided tape. (They did not.) While shopping, there were a cluster of employees discussing how dropping a torque wrench ruins its precision and whether this would be covered under warranty. (Thinking to myself: What person hasn’t dropped a tool?) Selection was fine. A budget brand was displayed next to the made-in-USA tools I sought. The package of six screwdrivers (three flat, three Philips) was $2 more than the three individual Philips ones I wanted.Check-out experience: they requested my ZIP code, then wanted to up-sell me to the Craftsman Club. After declining, she asked if I wanted to sign up for a Sears Card for a $25 discount. No eye contact was made. On the way out, another woman stopped me to offer coupons on fencing (the yard kind, not the “fending off marketing” variety). I was regretting my purchase.Length of receipt: 34 1/2 inches, but divided into three strips. Strip one was the receipt and a request to fill out their satisfaction survey. Strips two and three were … (wait for it…) more offers.

Stop 3: Ace Hardware. I was going to cash in the free coffee coupon at Starbucks and realized I hadn’t yet gotten the double-sided tape, hey, there’s an Ace, “let’s try it.” The store was a lot larger than it appeared from the outside (being in the corner and all that). The tape was right up front, too. While I was there, I thought I’d take a peek for a sheet of metal on which I’d use my stamp kit, only I wasn’t sure where that would be. An employee with one of those Secret Service headsets asked if he could help. I roughly described what I wanted to do, he asked some good, qualifying questions, then led me to what I needed. Whoa.

Shopping experience: Whoa. (For emphasis.) Help was offered and was very useful. I appreciated being led to the products rather than directed to some vague area of the store.Check-out experience: they asked if I was an Ace Rewards member. No pressure or offer to join. Cashier made eye-contact.Length of receipt: 6 3/4 inches.

Conclusion: I probably could have done all of my shopping at Ace, giving me more time to enjoy coffee and sneak away to Safeway’s deli for the Tuscan Chicken sandwich.Winner:

Fun with Amazon.com

jim — Sat, 04 Feb 2012 13:19:26 +0000

I was surfing Amazon.com a few nights ago and ended up with a rather odd assortment of “items to consider.” Here are some examples where product reviews and customer photos have become art.

You'll never find *these* in Gold Box!

Horse Head Mask – It looks pretty creepy, but then on the product page are over a hundred examplesof it being worn in the field.

Satisfied customer: "I totally nailed that interview!"

Yodeling Pickle. Because we’re out of sizzling bacon? The vendor’s product description is fun: Are you sick and tired of trying to teach your pickles to yodel? Pickles can be so stubborn. At last, the yodeling pickle you’ve been waiting for. With a mere press of a button (yes, it has a button) this little pickle will yodel its heart out. You’ll think you’re in the Swiss Alps listening to a yodeling pickle. With nearly 2100 reviews, many of them utterly hilarious and claiming the Three Wolf Moon shirt endowed them with supernatural powers, the T-shirt needs no further introduction. Many of the original customer contributed images were photoshopped, but newer ones appear legit. Because so many reviewers have used the initials, TWM, reviewers have also had fun with Tuscan Whole Milk.For example, consider this ditty by “Edgar”:

Once upon a mid-day sunny, while I savored Nuts ‘N Honey, With my Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 gal, 128 fl. oz., I swore As I went on with my lapping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at the icebox door. ‘Bad condensor, that,’ I muttered, ‘vibrating the icebox door - Only this, and nothing more.’Not to sound like a complainer, but, in an inept half-gainer, I provoked my bowl to tip and spill its contents on the floor. Stupefied, I came to muddle over that increasing puddle, Burgeoning deluge of that which I at present do adore - Snowy Tuscan wholesomeness exclusively produced offshore - Purg’ed here for evermore.And the pool so white and silky, filled me with a sense of milky Ardor of the type fantastic of a loss not known before, So that now, to still the throbbing of my heart, while gently sobbing, I retreated, heading straightway for the tempting icebox door - Heedless of that pitter-patter tapping at the icebox door - I resolved to have some more.Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, ‘This,’ said I, ‘requires an extra dram of milk, my favorite pour.’ To the icebox I aspired, motivated to admire How its avocado pigment complemented my decor. Then I grasped its woodgrain handle – here I opened wide the door; - Darkness there, and nothing more.Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams of Tuscans I had known before But the light inside was broken, and the darkness gave no token, And the only words there spoken were my whispered words, ‘No more!’ Coke and beer, some ketchup I set eyes on, and an apple core - Merely this and nothing more.Back toward the table turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. ‘Surely,’ said I, ‘surely that is something at my window lattice; Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore - Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; - ‘Tis the wind and nothing more!’From the window came a stirring, then, with an incessant purring, Inside stepped a kitten; mannerlessly did she me ignore. Not the least obeisance made she; not a minute stopped or stayed she; But, with mien of lord or lady, withdrew to my dining floor - Pounced upon the pool of Tuscan spreading o’er my dining floor - Licked, and lapped, and supped some more.Then this tiny cat beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grand enthusiasm of the countenance she wore, Toward the mess she showed no pity, ’til I said, ‘Well, hello, kitty!’ Sought she me with pretty eyes that seemed to open some rapport. So I pleaded, ‘Tell me, tell me what it is that you implore!’ Quoth the kitten, ‘Get some more.’

Wheelmate laptop desk – well, um, the photo on the left was supplied by the vendor. “Customers” have supplied over a hundred other photos of various car, truck and tank wrecks.

The Army is still perfecting the military model. There seems to be a glare problem and they are now considering teflon coating.

For those attending Burning Man or having suppressed Jabba the Hutt/Princess Leia Fantasies, look no further than the ‘Donk. The custom-made vehicle has a 400 watt sound system. Liquid ass – when you can’t find your own with a map and a magnifying glass?Everything by Icon Group International. There are over 300,000 of these electronically-produced, subatomic-nichlet subject matters, all priced to discourage window shoppers. According to Dr. Pedia, these works are the output of Philip M. Parker’s version of SkyNet.

Ganglioneuroma: Rarest and most benign

jim — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 04:08:11 +0000

Despite scant information on ganglioneuromas (many just repackaging the NIH blurb in a different style sheet), I wasn’t losing sleep while waiting for the pathology report. However, it was still great to get the official phone call confirming it was, in fact, the most benign of -omas. Because this sort of thing is pretty rare, no fewer than four pathologists were involved in “Dude, check this out.” Hey, I would have done the same.Since all of the earlier indications were an adrenal adenoma, I was curious how this fares in the -oma pecking order. I found two studies on pubmed that focused on laparoscopic removal of the adrenal gland. Of the 174 operations studied by Zografos [JSLS. 2010 Jul-Sep;14(3):364-8], three were ganglioneuromas. Another, more recent survey by Kulis [J Laparoendosc Adv Surg Tech A. 2011 Dec 13] considered 306 cases, of which three were ganglioneuromas. Youtube (of all places) has a video (the rest shows snippets from an operation – again, not safe for lunch. The patient also had some complications.) from a lecture where Drs. Edward Pucci and Fred Brody cite incidence of 1:100,000. Very rare, but still better than lottery.On a completely different topic, since coming home, I’ve had some interesting conversations comparing surgery experiences that fall under the “Things I would have liked to have known” category. As I hadn’t seen any discussion of this, I infer that it other people are too polite to discuss in public. I’m not, especially if it’s potentially helpful information.Apologies in advance to anyone who’s not had the sense to go read something more interesting and with 100% more bacon-scented airplane prawns right now.As I was leading up to surgery, the aspect I was most apprehensive about was (cue the Imperial March)…

Scarier in person.

the urinary catheter. I knew there was a 100% chance that one would be installed – because that’s what they do for patients undergoing surgery. Furthermore, I understood the reasons: even though I’d be unconscious, my body would still metabolizing. The lactated ringers needs to go somewhere.For dudes, this device of choice is a Foley catheter. It’s like the Internet: a series of tubes within a tube. One’s used as a balloon to keep the assembly from popping out. Another is used for safe urine passage. There may be a third to allow flushing of the bladder. After reading the first one, I was just grateful that I was sedated during its installation.The nice thing about a catheter is pee just flows into a bag hanging on the bottom of the bed, close to the floor. For someone just out of surgery, it’s a better alternative than having to get up every hour, stand in a cramped room, and add a few drops into the toilet.The downside is every time I noticed it. The tube dangling out of the second most sensitive part of my body picked up all sorts of wacky vibrations each time I moved that were mostly mitigated by having part of the tube taped to my upper thigh,. It feels pretty uncomfortable in a “hello, WTF” way. When I was lying very still, the weight of the urine-filled output tube causes one’s penis to lie on top of the testes, leading to sweaty balls. When I could, I tucked my robe underneath to give it some space.One thing I wish I had done differently was consider slipping on some underpants when they were changing out the bag o’rine the first time. It’s near impossible – and potentially disastrous — to do so otherwise and thread the various tubes in. In addition to providing more comfort to lying in bed commando, underpants would have also been one less thing I needed to worry about before walking up and down the hall. Hospital gowns expose half of your body at any given time. Even though Bryan scored me another to wear on my reverse, I nicked one of the IVs every time I slipped it on to go walking.When it appeared I was going to be healthy enough to go home, the catheter was removed. This didn’t take long, nor was it painful, but oh-my-fucking-god was it a weird, not-good over-sensation. I’d best sum it up as being glad I had an hour of reserve bladder capacity. Too much stimulation!! During laparoscopic surgery, they use CO2 to inflate the abdomen, giving them more room to work. After surgery, the remaining gas needs to exit wherever it can. One method is burping. Whenever I stood up, I’d emit sounds I haven’t heard since college. Burping was a joyous relief of abdominal pressure!

If I were as tan, buff, and unhairy as Matthew McConaughey, this is where they would have made incisions.

CO2 should also work its way through the other side of the digestive tract, aka “flatus.” Unfortunately, while my digestive system was making noises like a V8 with three bad cylinders, and I could belch the national anthem, I was unable to pass gas. For a brief period, it seemed this would be a reason for the nurse to veto my going home. Fortunately, Kevin decided I had enough other positive signs. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t actually be able to pass gas until a couple of days later, during the Packers-Giants game. Read into that what you want, but when I could finally rip a few, I had a wondeful relief from the cauldron of discomfort brewing in my gut. I have noticed that it’s pretty common for multiple prescriptions, where one’s intended to treat the primary symptom, but the rest deal with side effects. For example, they gave me Percocet for pain relief from the incisions. One of its primary side effects is constipation. Quite honestly, when you’ve had work done on your abdomen, you really don’t want to be straining to poop. Thus, they prescribed docusate sodium to soften the stool. Because my digestive system was full of mostly a small thimbleful of sugar-free Jello (still the best Jello I’ve ever had), there wasn’t much potential output. Number Two didn’t return until late Sunday, during the Pittsburgh-Denver game. For the record, I wouldn’t mind if Tebow toned down the over-religiosity down a notch or two, but I don’t have any specific problem with him. For a Bulgarian shot putter from accounting, that was a beautiful TD pass. (He has his receiver to thank.) No Pain, No Brain. During various points of this experience, I was asked to rate my pain on a scale of 0 to 10. In the engineering sense, I just kind of have to guess that my pain scale works out to be something like this:

9+ Being digested by Sarlacc? I’m glad to have not experienced either.
7 – A kidney stone. I think this is the worst pain I’ve felt, and it was combined with feeling very bloated (as plumbing was backed up), nausea and occasional vomiting. I wasn’t thinking clearly when I biked home that day. (And then later, driving myself to the ER?)
6 - Coughing up a phlegmball the first time I tried using the deep breath exerciser after surgery. It was relatively brief and subsided quickly. In anticipating of the next round of breath exercises, I pre-loaded requests from the PCA.
5 — Sitting up after surgery. This was less quick to simmer down. My abdominal muscles were really weak after surgery (duh, guess why?), and I felt like an upside-down turtle at times. Once I was up, I didn’t want to lie down again.
3 – 4 — General pain level the first few days after surgery, usually exacerbated by changing position. Once I was up and walking around, I felt *much* better. Talking walks outside felt great.
2 — Sore knees/ankles after a 12-mile hike on Tiger Mountain with friends. It’s usually localized pain, relieved by Ice and vitamin-Ibuprofen, and ladled with the satisfaction of having done a 12-mile hike all day with friends.
1 — IV, blood draw, or stitches after the Percocet kicks in. I think I did a pretty good job minimizing the pain medicine intake, but dang, it was so effective to take a pill a half hour before bedtime. Pain. Gone.
0 — Orgasm. I’m forty-something, and there are always things snapping, crackling, popping and/or slightly achey.

At today’s two-week follow-up, the doctor asked me what the hardest part of the whole surgery experience was. Without hesitation: the time in the hospital. I was pretty lucky to have a half-occupied double room with a glorious view of Seattle and Mt. Rainier, but it was a very noisy, disruptive environment. I knew this going in, and was thus motivated to get up and walk around to demonstrate that I’d be okay enough going home, where I could actually rest. When they moved the second patient in, I was doubleplusmotivated to not endure another 24-hours of extra interruptions, translator, or the dude’s wife’s ultra-obnoxious ringtone jacked up at full volume. I wouldn’t want to spend a few days (as would have occurred with an open.)

It’s done

jim — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 17:22:37 +0000

Finally had surgery for the thing. Here’s a recap of the last few days.Day before (1/11):8:30 – last solid food. Though it was slightly tempting to have a celebratory Twinkie, I opted for steel cut oats and bananas. Going without food the rest of the day was a lot easier than I thought it would be as I was permitted ”clear liquids” like black tea, Gatorade and all the tap water I wanted.17:00 – consumption of the evil liquid. Since the doctor wasn’t insisting on squeaky clean (as would be needed for a colonoscopy), I just had to consume a single 10-ounce bottle of magnesium citrate. Iced, it wasn’t as bad as I’d heard (though, mind you, I wasn’t sucking down a gallon). I waited. And waited. Read the wikipedia page, waited some more for something to happen, then finally went to bed.23:45 – The magnesium citrate daiquiri begins the final act in its magical journey through my digestive system. Oh, my.Day of (1/12):6:00 – arrive at the hospital for check-in. Surgery was scheduled for 7:20, estimated to take 1:43. If I’ve learned anything from business travel, it’s that the more precise an estimate, the less accurate it is. This applied here. My spouse was given a pager that would go off whenever my status was updated, allowing her to check the leaderboard showing my progress. For surgery performed on kids, they’ll give a halftime update to the nervous parents. For old farts, they cover the basics. The patient is fine with the doctor not diverting his attention. 6:30 – I was led back to a pre-surgery prep room and given a series of questions that I’d been asked at least a half dozen times. They had me put on The Gown and don compression hose on my legs for prevention of deep vein thrombosis. Though they repeatedly warn people not to bring valuables or electronics, they checked twice more, just in case I brought something. My street clothes were put into a vinyl hang-up bag for post-surgery.6:45 – Two IV taps were installed. The guy doing these was amazingly good at his job – no pain or blood drips. I’d later find out that the staff adored him for his sensei-skill. The anesthesiologist came by for a pre-op interview, confirming answers to the questions I’ve been asked and very patiently answering all of mine. I was pretty impressed with their thoroughness in identifying potential complications.The induction phase starts with a shot of Propofol, also referred to as “milk of amnesia” or “forgive and forget medicine.” The latter is especially good for people like me who are squeamish at intubation (necessary because the general anesthesia causes one’s autonomic nervous system to go trippy) and catheters (because pee happens). I don’t remember anything after this.10:40 - I woke up in the post-op room. For me, this was very meta dream within a dream. I knew I was groggy and disoriented, yet was patiently awaiting my “reboot.” Soon, I was feeling coherent enough to start taking in the surroundings. The intubation (now out) left me with a sore throat and a very, very dry mouth. I clumsily groped around to determine whether it had converted to the more invasive “open” – there were four blobs of gauze – it was laparoscopic. Attached to me were an oxygen sensor (tip of index finger), blood pressure cuff (right arm), supplemental oxygen (the thing in my nose), catheter, IV, and a pneumatic device that pulsated my lower legs. Every half hour, the blood pressure cuff kicked on, ensuring that I’d remain awake.The nurse showed me the button for the patient-controlled analgesia device. I love the concept: each press of the button administers a small morphine drip into my lactated ringers IV, dulling pain. To prevent obvious abuse, the device locks itself out for eight minutes between shots. The bag is also limited to fifty shots. The nurses check the meter to determine how rapidly you’re consuming it. So yes, there is no way you’ll overdose. Despite this, I was still irrationally terrified at the prospect of being addicted. I avoided pushing the button, until later, when I knew I was about to have some serious pain.12:30 - The room they had planned for me hadn’t freed up yet. I was not in a condition to care much, but … family members aren’t allowed to visit in post-op. A phone call was arranged, and my spouse, bless her heart, managed to sneak in my iPhone. The Internet Gods were smiling as the phone found a free wireless access point with three bars. I was now able to text and play Disgruntled Avians, Lethargic Post-Op Edition!

I'm even *less* photogenic after surgery.

… mostly. Operating a touch screen device with an oxygen sensor on a fingertip is pretty hard. Since it appeared I wasn’t getting out for a while, my spouse went home to attend to the kids.During next few hours, patients were shuttled in and out of post-op. It was hard not to listen in and realize how fortunate that I am. For example, the 74 year-old woman put next to me has some Serious Shit going on involving a radioactive implant to deal with her lung cancer. In addition to having post-surgery delirium, she was also hard of hearing. When the staff needed to administer an aeration treatment (because she was oxygen deficient), they’d have to shout instructions. Nothing improves coherence more than volume.16:00 - I was finally assigned a room! They transferred me to the new bed using something akin to a human spatula … just as my family arrived. Thinking that the kids really could do without being traumatized by seeing my immobile, pale posterior wafting in the air, I suggested they “give us a few minutes.”The previous nurse was ending shift at 6pm, so I don’t recall her stopping in at all. Erin, who started her shift at around 6pm, took some time to introduce herself and her tech, Bryan. She was very personable and a great communicator, but she won bonus points for bringing me a glass of ice water.Since I had expressed an interest in walking around later in the evening, she brought me this device:

Appealing to my inner-competitiveness.

Its purpose is to encourage slow, deep breathing. Done right, it encourages one to expel any accumulated fluid in the lungs, reducing the risk of contracting pneumonia. On my third whiff, I hacked up an unexpected phlegmball. Even hugging the pillow, coughing seriously hurt as it stressed every muscle in my abdomen, especially the ones with incisions. I made nice to the PCA for three shots in a row… and then fell asleep.20:00 - With encouragement from Erin and logistical help from Bryan, I was able to get out of bed and stand. I coughed up another, smaller phlegmball. It hurt, but I was elated to be vertical. Then, buuuuuuuuuuurp. Massive man burps are a side effect of the gas used to inflate my abdomen.

8:45 pm: Victory! (and burrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp)

21:30 - After a few more shots of the PCA (and ensuing nap), I summoned poor Bryan again to help me up and out. Getting up required disconnecting the two pneumatic tubes powering the apparatus on my calves, hoisting the bag o’rine onto the IV stand, and gingerly standing by in case I make a sudden exchange of potential for kinetic energy. Once I cleared of the door, he let me wobble down the entire length of the hallway. Being up let out a torrent of burp storms as my body expelled more CO2 gas used in the laparoscopic surgery. It’s the small things that bring huge relief.Day one (1/13)03:00 - With help from my Pandora One feed, I managed to filter out the hallway noise and sleep in 40-minute bursts between room visits. By 3am, I was pretty uncomfortable lying in bed and decided it’d be best if I try walking around again. Bryan showed no irritation at being asked, again, to help me get going. The chatter of the IV cart’s wheels dispels an otherwise quiet evening on the floor. I mustered five laps — about a third of a mile — before calling it done.05:55 - I am summoned from the middle of a great dream (involving my spouse, warm climate, and body paint) by a phlebotomist who’s come in for a blood sample. So begins the entry of random people doing maintenance on things: the biohazard needle tub is purged, laundry emptied, TV remote waxed, and so on. I abandon hoped of getting any more sleep.Erin comes in, cheerful that I’ve used far less of the PCA than expected, and was walking around. After listening to my abdomen, she suggests that my digestive system is waking up and that I might be ready to consume actual food-like stuff when the cafeteria opens at 7am. In the interim, she brings me the Best Jello Ever.

Jellolujah!

07:00 - During the shift change, Erin introduces Kevin, the nurse who’ll be taking over. I know the information is in The Computer, but hearing them discuss my condition in front of me pleases me. She wishes me good luck as Kevin sticks around to make his assessment. I like him immediately because he asks good questions and clearly has the Organizational-fu to get things done. He sees no reason that I can’t go home today if I’m up to it. Before leaving, I’m upgraded from “clear fluids” to “full liquid diet.” This confers privilege of cream of rice and vanilla pudding.

That's not mayonnaise!

During the next several hours, a lot happened:

Bolstered by potentially getting out, I did ten laps around the floor – 2/3 of a mile. This was harder because of all the carts jutting out into the hallway. Still, I did it and I overdid it. This was the last I used the PCA during my visit. Nappy time!
My surgeon high-fived me on the way in. Surgery went quicker than expected. What they found was a ganglioneuroma (versus adrenal adenoma – these are apparently indistinguishable with imaging and much rarer). Since it was inseparable from the adrenal gland, they removed the entire thing. There was some adhesion to the kidney. The staff pathologist they consulted thought it was probably benign. (Otherwise, they would have removed the kidney (!), too.) ~~The full pathology will take a week.~~ [1/23 update: benign. Because it was a rather rare thing, four pathologists looked at it.] Given my progress, he said it was my choice if I wanted to stay another night or go home today. He offered to write a prescription for watching the NFL playoffs. I accepted.
The catheter was removed by the tech. As part of the final tests, they needed to ensure that my bladder was “properly voiding itself.” What the tech didn’t tell me is my room was soon going to become Grand Central Station as a new patient was being moved in. Urination anxiety + post-operative coordination with a small container/IV/drooping gown + the cacophony of a new patient requiring a translator made this the toughest ordeal of the visit. I had to finally seek out the cavernous, handicap-accessible toilet in the hallway. I’m pretty sure I didn’t expel as much as the tech wanted me to, but she was getting pretty tired of me.
Discharged at 3pm! Kevin did a fantastic job of ensuring I had what I needed to go home and that I understood the instructions and contact points if things stopped progressing well.

Sleeping Friday night was a little rough, but I was soooooo glad to be in my own bed. And: nurses rock.

Fun with Yelp…

jim — Fri, 23 Dec 2011 04:56:49 +0000

I started playing with Yelp as a way to track what places I frequent. Its schtick is you can become “Duke” for checking into a place the most times. Completely different from Four Square, which only confers mayorships. While wandering around Issaquah, I noticed this fellow appearing as Duke for 1300 businesses.That’s a lot of dedication, and the excerpts almost tell a story:Royalty is strange.

That’s no moon…

jim — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 09:26:19 +0000

During last month’s Stone Concert, the CT scan showed two unexpected somethings.

Dramatic reenactment: The noisy TIE fighter? It is the least of your worries.

I went into my primary care physician ask what, if anything, I should do about them. Because I’m generally feeling fine, the gallstone can be ignored. I will probably have to cut back on the butter fried bacon twinkies smothered in bacon, wrapped between a pair of glazed donuts, sprinkled with Oreo bits, and surrounded by a moat of heavy whipped cream. (I really have never had such a thing, nor would I really want one. I have my bacon-limits.) The second unexpected thing is a mass on my adrenal gland, technically known as an “incidentaloma,” because it’s found while looking for other things… like Alderan.Though I didn’t have any obvious symptoms associated with The Bad Kind of these masses — excessively high blood pressure, thinning of the skin, hypoglycemia, balding — it’s big enough that the doctor recommended checking various hormone levels before forwarding me to a specialist. He did caution that it’d likely need to come out.I was a little antsy. The specialist does a day a week at the nearby office, but was booked through December. The scheduler found a mid-day slot at the main hospital in Seattle. Done.After running up the stairs to the seventh floor, I emerged in a lobby of visibly sick and worse off people roaming the halls. Suddenly I didn’t feel so bad. The specialist gave me a pretty nice explanation of these, later supplemented by online resources. He drew a makeshift lower human endocrine system on the paper covering the exam table, explaining that the size means it would need to come out. Before doing so, he wanted to get a contrast MRI to better determine its composition. Upon hearing I traveled all the way to The 206, he had his scheduler set me up with the portable MRI machine in Issaquah.It looks exactly like this:

Oh, boy, breakfast tacos! .... wha?

On the inside, it felt like any medical facility I’ve ever been in, sans the smell of alcohol. One end has a dressing room, the middle is the technician’s “pit”, and the other end is the actual magic donut itself. While in the dressing room, I was asked a series of questions to identify any potential metallic materials in or on me that would cause problems: pacemakers, cochlear implants, shrapnel, prison tats, piercings, stainless steel rapper teeth, and so on. An MRI is a giant frickin electromagnet, where “frickin” is 1.5 Tesla, or about 35000x more powerful than the than the earth’s magnetic field. Metallic objects become projectiles, credit cards are cheerfully erased, and hard drives are reformatted.

Han. Fired. First. (Photo: Photo By Bonnie Burton -- Starwars.com)

They strapped on imaging coils above my abdomen and sent me into the chute. As soon as my head was fully in, a really awful claustrophobia set in. Luckily, the machine was open-ended and my head was close enough to the edge. They advised me to look straight up. Seeing various distant office furniture eased up the tension, after which I just kept my eyes shut and pretended I was on a tropical island somewhere.

Source: How Stuff Works.com

The general procedure was I’d do a couple of deep breaths, then hold (and remain still) for up to a minute and a half while the machine did its thing. Even with the Ye Old Timey airplane-style headset, it’s pretty frickin noisy inside. There’s a low, rhythmic percussion sound that my feet wanted to interpretively dance to. When the machine was actively scanning, I heard four types of jack-hammery sounds. Here’s one of the noises.

The adrenal gland sits on top of your kidney, ready to rock out on a moment

They ran a bunch of scans: in phase, out of phase, wash, rinse, spin. At some point the radiologist came in and wanted an additional set of contrast images. The lady running things did the IV and she was top-notch. It didn’t hurt at all. The contrast agent was a gadolinium chelate that’s given intravenously. Before injecting it, they did a quick blood test of kidney (creatine) function to rule out any renal problems.So, bottom line: that’s no moon…

This is the view as if you were looking at my belly: my left is your right.

And looking down from my man boobs:

Yeesh.

If the blobby thing were under 4cm, they’d just keep an eye on it. However, it’s big enough that they’ll remove it. The reasoning is the larger it becomes, the more likely it’ll turn to the Dark Side.So far, signs point to having it removed (Warning: NSFL = Not safe for lunch) laparoscopically in January. Each time I watch this, I alternate between fascination at the technology and creeped-outness that we are self-aware meat sacks. If they have to take the more invasive route that Ted underwent with his kidney, there will be … a much longer recovery period.As I write this, it’s penciled in for mid-January. It’s like bullseyeing womp-rats in beggar’s canyon, or something.

Online classes

jim — Thu, 24 Nov 2011 00:58:53 +0000

This fall, Stanford has been offering free online classes this fall in three subject areas of computing: Artificial Intelligence, Databases, and Machine Learning. It’s different from MIT’s excellent OpenCourseWare series in that Stanford is offering a course you can play along with while MIT is providing the materials for self-study.For two of the courses, two tracks were offered: “basic,” in which participants watch lectures and do homeworks, and “advanced,” which adds exams and programming. Since I have a full-time job, am participating in NaNoWriMo again, and am taking three of these, I opted for the “basic” track of each, though as a stretch goal, I tried to keep up with the advanced track as much as I could.With the classes winding down, I thought it would be useful to jot down some notes:I first learned about the Artificial Intelligence class (ai-class.org) on HackerNews before the buzz spread to SlashDot, Wired and other geek venues. By the time the class started, there were over 80,000 people signed up. I think they were stunned at the huge interest.Overall, the course has been disappointing.

Lectures were a seemingly never-ending series of watching Sebastian Thrun’s hand draw probability graphs for us to interactively answer. Comments directly on the video hosting site show the same amount of frustration and confusion that I had: it was unclear until the fourth week that we were supposed to possess and be reading specific sections from Norvig’s textbook. (I have an older edition from a few years ago, I just would have liked knowing this sooner.)
The website was missing a lot of the infrastructure the other classes had. For example, there was no official forum. Instead, people were directed to two external social networking things, or to monitor the fucking overbusy Twitter feed. But back to the previous point, the section with specific readings was not readily exposed on the site. I found it through three levels of clicking on random links. Duh, that’s why these quizzes make no sense.
As a philosophy, they are focused on grades rather than learning. For example, only the first attempt on an exercise is considered. In contrast, the other two courses mix up the questions a bit, expect you to make multiple attempts, and take the best score of the lot. Though I’m not taking this for any kind of credit, certification, or endorsement, having the score positioned in a positive way is much more motivating.

After the second exam, I decided I have other things I’d rather do right now. I have the textbook and the videos are online should I want to revisit the material later.A few years ago, I had the opportunity to audit an excellent Machine Learning course, doing everything except the project (for logistics reasons). I saw an opportunity for a refresher in Andrew Ng’s Machine Learning (ml-class.org) course.Overall, the course has been fun.

The material is self-contained. While there are links to other references, everything you need is accessible on the site.
Professor Ng is very personable. His lectures are presented in topics chunked into 8-10 minutes each – a pretty nice block to sample at intervals during the day. There are interactive quizzes – but usually never more than two per lecture, and only then to help reinforce the material. (Whereas the AI class, the quiz was the material.)
As a philosophy, the course is focused on learning. The quizzes draw from a body of questions. You can retake them – and indeed are encouraged to. Only the highest score is recorded. (Yes, I know I’m auditing – the overachiever likes to see faux numerical progress.)
Programming assignments use software that’s available on multiple platforms. During the course, I’ve run Octave on Windows, Mac and Linux, cuz that’s how I roll. The first assignment was essentially a tutorial of the software, walking you through the material in the prior lectures. You were encouraged to keep trying until you got the answer correct.

Though I did the first programming assignment, I had to taper back due to time constraints. I am behind a couple of lectures, but otherwise current on all of the quizzes.I was doing well until the material started delving into hardcore notation. I’m soooo not an abstract thinker. When I see something like this:

I have to pause, deep breathe a few minutes, then think really hard about what the question is really asking. If the same question is presented with a graph or prose, I do very well.Finally, the Introduction to Databases course (db-class.org) was something I learned about only a week before it started. Though I have some SQL-fu, I don’t have any formal training in databases — my university just didn’t offer that sort of thing.I enrolled, thinking I’d just check it out. To my delight, it’s been the most rewarding of the courses.

As with Machine Learning, the course is self-contained. While there are links to other references, everything you need is available on the site.
Professor Widom is very personable. Her lectures are also presented into topics chunked into 8-10 minutes each. Each week, she organizes a “screenside chat” on YouTube where she wraps up material, administrivia, and calls out any specific learnings from the classes. It’s low-budget (she and two student volunteers), but it works very well.
Her class has a similar philosophy in wanting to emphasize learning over a score. The quizzes draw from a body of questions. You can retake them – and indeed are encouraged to.
The various programming assignments have a pretty novel workbench that shows you the result. For example, when writing an XML query with specific database schema used throughout the course, you’re presented with the results of your solution and the “correct one.” This has been invaluable to my understanding of this stuff works.
The web site has a fairly active forum with a vote up/down option. The discussions have been very useful because the biggest problems I’ve had with the programming is the syntax, not the logic. For syntax problems, the workbench hasn’t been helpful. Perhaps Visual Studio and XCode have spoiled me, but a “Hey, dumbass, you forgot the semicolon at the end of a statement” would have saved a lot of time.

The course has exposed me to relational algebra, DTDs, XML, XQuery and XSLT — not that I want to use them again. An analogy would be getting the MBA is great for knowing enough accounting to ask useful questions of the lady I’m paying to do it for real. The SQL-related components are done with Sqlite, though I have access to MySQL and SQL Server. I was so excited when I discovered a solution that reported different results on each database, and that this was covered in class a week later.In January, Stanford is offering several other courses online:

*Lean Launchpad	Technology Entrepreneurship	Making Green Buildings	Information Theory
CS 101	Machine Learning	Software as a Service	*Human-Computer Interaction
Natural Language Processing	Game Theory	Probabilistic Graphical Models	*Cryptography
Design + Analysis of Algorithms

Lots of cool stuff! My big decision will be whether I want to invest my time in trying the three I’ve asterisked, or start the iOS series at UW.

Insert your getting stoned joke here

jim — Thu, 17 Nov 2011 01:02:35 +0000

I’ve gotten into a nice groove where my daughters’ evening dance classes have provided an excellent excuse for me to bike to work. If I leave my car at the park & ride, I’m only 2 blocks away from where I need to pick them up. I get to bike (versus a commute of similar duration), my spouse saves 40 minutes of driving, and the kids get their Nutcracker fix for the season. Everybody wins.Tuesday, after lunch with a former coworker at the nearby, mediocre Indian buffet, I stopped into the Tully’s that I’m Duke of (according to Yelp) for some caffeinated tribute. With no meetings the rest of the day, I was looking forward to some great productivity.About 10 minutes after I sat down at my desk, I started feel a litany of Bad Symptoms that made me regret eaten Indian food then and for the foreseeable future. After an hour of this, and realizing just how ridiculously busy the company bathrooms are, I gave up and biked home. Vomiting along Newport way made me feel less bad, but I was glad it’s a downhill trek.Once home, it was evident that neither laying down, curling up into a ball, nor a hot shower were going to help. I couldn’t get into see my primary care physician or a designated alternate, so I tried the local urgent care clinic. To my surprise, they got me in right away and then forwarded me off to the hospital for more tests. Driving was very painful – every erratic stop (rush hour!) and speed bump sucked.They did a bunch of tests and eventually narrowing it down to … these:

Left x 3

Right

A relatively tiny kidney stone, which I’ve nicknamed “1mm of pure calcite terror,” was passing through the ureter on the right. Once it hit the bladder, pain went away. I can pee! I can pee!As I was being discharged, they let me know of an “incidental discovery” — And we’re not talking about the three stones on the other side — that will need follow-up after Thanksgiving. Thus, this may have been a good thing. On the other hand, Yikes!

The new Gmail look and feel…

jim — Fri, 11 Nov 2011 05:17:53 +0000

Google’s rolling out their new look and feel to Gmail. After playing with the beta for most of the week, I have two complaints.1: I would like a more contrast between messages. Here’s the main window using the current, “classic” look and feel:

Whattaya think, should I put Fathi in touch with the ICC Int’l Cricket lottery?

In the new motif, the separator line is thinner/lighter/both because there is more vertical padding. As I spend a lot of time looking at mail all day, the lack of visual cue is tiresome on my fortystomething eyes. The current message indicator has changed from a delta (small, black, right-pointing triangle) to a thin, blue vertical bar. The bar is easier to see when you j-down/k-up, but it would be better done in red, like the one used to identify the specific “label” (folder).

If spammers ever employ spelling checkers, we’re doomed.

The compact theme offers the same vertical padding as the original, but the “new” motif. The lack of contrast on the horizontal message separators is more problematic.

Compact mode: Spam takes up 25% less vertical space.

The other themes look like they’d be better, but after several hours’ use, are harder on the eyes.2. Give me my label space back. In the original treatment, one can designate labels as “Show always,” “Show only if there’s something new” and “Never show.” The dynamic nature is great, something that Outlook should copy. I use it a lot for high-volume groups like “Seattle Tech” and “Seattle Randonneurs” that I want to shunt to separate folders rather than “bing” me every time someone responds all.In the new motif, the space for labels is accordioned so chat appears above the fold. (Again, notice the lack of contrast in the separator thingy.) When you move the mouse over, labels expand back to full height. It’s annoying because I have to be proactive in seeing if Seattle Tech has new content.

Ye Olde LookenFeel	New

What I think they should have done: define blobs of content into “wide” and “narrow.” Then, let users rearrange things as necessary. Yahoo’s ben doing this since the early 00s on their my.yahoo.com portal. Alternatively: let me shut the chat thing down entirely.On the plus side: the new icons are nice looking and have useful hover help.

Garmin 60Csx vs Oregon 450

jim — Sun, 06 Nov 2011 19:39:44 +0000

A geocaching friend asked me how the Garmin Oregon compares to the venerable 60Csx. After about three paragraphs on Google Plus, I thought it would be worth just writing up my highly-opinionated treatise as a blog entry. Lucky you.A quick glance at the units’ specifications directly from the manufacturer…

60Csx Oregon 450
Display (w x h, pixels) 160×240 240×400
Battery life (theoretical, hours) 18 16
Geocaches + child waypoints 1000 2000
Compass 2D 3D
Expansion miniSD miniSD
Geocache types supported One¹ All
¹As “geocaches.” However, by using software-fu, one can load these as waypoints (which we all do), and use Find -> Waypoint instead of Find -> Geocache. The latter is not a particularly useful function.

… and my unofficial addendum:

60Csx Oregon 450
Geocaches + child waypoints 1000 ~4000¹
Battery life (system defaults, fresh Costco alkaline AA)² 14+ 5
Battery life (power saving tricks, Enerloop NiMH AA)³ did not test 9
Compass Useless Useful
Geocache Name Length 14 characters 200+ characters
Geocache Description length 30 characters. No logs. 2000 characters. Rudimentary formatting (bold, italic) in content. Lots o’ logs. Adding pictures is as easy as capturing a unicorn, which is to say I can’t fucking figure it out.
Screen brightness Excellent. The unit is visible in full sunlight. For most use, you do not need backlight. The map stays on all the time. In full sunlight, adequate without backlighting. Since I rarely have full sunlight, I use 50% backlighting when I’m actively doing something. At its highest setting, it’ll burn your retinas. Okay, not really, that’s just the batteries screaming. The 450 is a huge improvement over the earlier Oregon models’ brightness, which I considered “Awful.”
More Footnotes:¹Engineering forgot to tell marketing that the number is much higher! In practice, most of us use a third-party program (GSAK) to manage our caches, especially puzzles and updated coordinates. The Oregon 450 will theoretically hold up to 5,000 geocaches. In practice, if there is ample memory, you can load ~3500 (including child waypoints, attributes, and 5 logs). Beyond that, or if there is insufficient space, Weird Shit (TM) may occur. Sometimes. Firmware changes trade one symptom for another.²Completely unscientific field testing during a day of geocaching with FrodoB and PhilNi. The first few times I went out with the Oregon, I’d run out of batteries just after lunch.³Backlight at 50% intensity with a timeout of 15 seconds, Battery Save enabled (which shuts off the screen after a period of non-use), map orientation “North Up.” Sanyo Eneloop batteries work very well for this application. If they’re claiming 16 hours of battery life, maybe these should be the default settings?

The biggest benefit is being able to store several thousand caches with descriptions, hints and previous logs. (Wife sends me to Ikea for more üm̈läǖẗ furniture? No problem, I’ve got caches I can pick up after my Swedish Meatball Bender.) The 3D compass is also functional. Given how much I’ve geocached, and the price I found it on sale, I feel it’s worth the upgrade.

Hey, the one on the left is welcoming me to the neighborhood!

This is a listing of nearby geocaches. On the right, the view I see in my 60Csx, using the waypoint hack to display more than one cache type. A side effect of doing this is I see a lot of parking spots and intermediate waypoints.

What I really need is a "geocaches I can actually find" filter.

From my scant time into geocaching, it’s obvoius the manufacturers push units out the door before the units are ready. When I looked at a Delorme PN-40, their geocaching functions weren’t even there. The initial release of the Oregon 450 lacked support multi-caches. For this reason, I would avoid buying a unit that has been released in the last six months.With touch screen navigation, you’re a slave to the programmer’s idea of the user interface. If the developers operate in a vacuum, insulated from actual end users, the result is a frustrating interface with extra clicks that a simple, physical button on the 60CSx accomplished.Consider the example where you’re going after a multicache that’s spread out a bit. Here’s how the multi cache works from clicking:

Geocaches -> Find Geocache -> Duthie Hill MTB -> Go[x] -> (scroll down 1 screen) -> Enter Next Stage -> (enter the coordinates)

With the 60Csx, we would have just modified the coordinates of the cache we’re navigating to. On the Oregon, we’ve added a new waypoint called… “Next Stage.” Well, that’s not ideal, but I suppose it’ll work. Hey, wait, right across the trail, there’s another multi cache. Let’s pick it up!

[x] -> Geocaches -> (scroll down 1 screen) -> Find Another -> Under the Big M -> Go

When we find it, claim success than get back to where we were:

[x] -> Geocaches -> log attempt -> Found (being optimistic here) -> Find another

WTF, where did WP2 for Duthie Hill MTB go? After being bitten by this a few times, we devised a workaround: after entering the waypoint coordinates, we’d drop a map point then edit the map point. What’s a dozen more clicks among friends?

[x] -> Geocaches -> Description -> Click on the pin icon to save a waypoint -> OK -> click on the pencil icon to edit -> Change Name (to something other than “next stage”) -> [edit this] -> [checkbox] -> Change Symbol -> … throw unit on ground?

When the unit is powered up, it looks in a specific directory for new geocache (*.gpx) files to load. Typically, there will be one large file containing a ~4000 of caches in my stomping grounds. I had mentioned “weird things” happening when one loads a lot of geocaches onto the unit – these include it hanging (seems to have been fixed in the most recent hardware) or caches randomly being ignored. Through trial and error, we estimate that 3500 is about the largest bunch you can add.One aspect I really hate is Garmin has chosen to lock maps to a specific unit, meaning any time you buy a new one, you have to repurchase the same stuff. Furthermore, the upgrade path for handhelds is retarded: have the 2011 POIs and want to get the new ones? Buy the new set at retail price. Want topos? Buy the new set at retail price. In other words, there’s no subscription like there is for the Nuvis. This is annoying enough that I have sought out alternatives. Since most of my geocaching is in the Washington/Oregon area, I have an excellent trail map set available. And better topos.An interesting business question is at what point will phone units surpass dedicated GPS units in functionality? Using my iPhone and Geosphere, I can easily load my entire database (~10,000 geocaches, including about 500+ solved-but-unfound puzzles), their logs, attributes) and pictures embedded in the cache page. Supplementing that with Geocaching.com’s app, I also get instant access to new caches and any other photos I couldn’t immediately download.What prevents me from using this all the time are limitations of the phone. First, the GPS takes a while to settle down, as I alluded to in my puzzle cache. It’s not a huge problem if the person placing it chose a reasonable area and measured well… but there remains ample evidence they don’t always do so. Second, battery life of the phone is terrible with the GPS on all the time. Finally, dropping the phone into a river/the mud/snow/down a ravine — all places my handheld has been — is going to cause more heartaches because it is in no way immune to these elements. An Otter Box and carabiner clip would help.

Our 2011 Apple Harvest

jim — Mon, 31 Oct 2011 04:19:15 +0000

Behold!Protection from squirrels with laser eyes and overly cute, terrorist bunny rabbits has its reward.

Expense report

jim — Sat, 29 Oct 2011 07:04:41 +0000

This was one of the best costumes I saw today:

I needed this Sith to sign off on an expense report. Seriously.

Even funnier was no one knew who it was until he spoke.

Hard Drive Destruction

jim — Mon, 05 Sep 2011 07:30:25 +0000

Since I’m starting a new major project, the family wanted to spend a lot of time on a staycation this weekend. One of the activities was a field trip to Creation Station, a store with, well, bunches of stuff that you would have tossed out, except when you see a lot of them neatly arranged, it starts to inspire thoughts of making random art. For example, in part of the store are barrels full of, say, wine corks, 35mm film canisters, cardboard circles, ceramic tile squares, rubber straps, braids of wire … stuff. They’re priced on the barrel – for example, film canisters were 10 for $1 – or you can fill various sized bags for a flat rate. (My advice: you really want to do this.) As you wander around, it eventually makes sense: this stuff could be used to make artsy projects.The other parts of the store continue the potpourri, just not at bargain bin prices: multi-colored pipe cleaners, beads, insect finger puppets, glitter, pipettes, googly eyes, flexible hosing, 2mm sheets of foam, ping pong balls, ceramic emollient jars (sans emollient) … you get the idea. We left with ~$40 worth of raw materials for an evening of just messing around with our hands. It’s cheaper than a movie.My contribution was the thing below. Being the token male in the household, I had to break out the drill. The eye stalks are cut pieces of bicycle cable housing that I happened to have lying around in the garage.An interesting side effect of doing this is I started thinking about other sources of materials that could be used for future projects – because ideally, you just break out the bin O’ random stuff, and have at it.Today, we were in chores mode. Mine were focused on tidying up the man-cave. One I’d been putting off freaking forever was dealing with a stack of former hard drives. These had all been salvaged from ex-laptops, desktops, external backup drives and a modded ReplayTV. Since I’d lost track of what data was on which drive, I’d just kept them all for fear of the device providing future generations with access to CSI-like techniques knowledge of just how boring I am.Since I was in art mode, I thought it’d be fun to crack open a drive, show my kids how it worked, and then try to salvage the platters. If you try this at home, you will need:

A hard disk you won’t be needing to use again
Tools: A Torx #6, a Torx #4, and a flat-blade screwdriver. Just get this set – it’s really nice for small electronics.
Rare earth magnet.

Step 1: In the next room, put your wallet, working computer, and anything else that really should not be exposed to powerful magnets.

The first rule of breaking open a disk drive: you will absolutely, positively violate your warranty.

Step 2: Using the Torx #6, remove the six obvious screws on the top of the hard drive. Don’t try prying off the cover just yet!

Oh, now you've done it.

Step 3: With your finger, feel around the label for a round indentation or look under the sticker labeled “Remove this and you will void your warranty.” (I’m sorry, I stopped paying attention after “Remove this.”) Using the flat-blade screwdriver’s pointy part, scrape off the label. My Hitachi drive had two other screws partly obscured by its label. Dig those out, too.

The topmost screw had a plastic cover guarding it - those rascals!

Step 4: Remove these 1-3 screws. Now, using the flat-blade screwdriver, gently pry around the side. There should be no resistance.

It looks very simple, but the engineering tolerances are very, very tight.

Step 5: Grab the center spindle and rotate the assembly. If it has any resistance — as mine did, because that’s why the drive broke — you may need to gently jiggle the sensor array (the pointy thing to the left). Just for fun … plug the drive into power. The platters should start spinning up. In photo 1, the label says the drive is rated at 7200 rpm – moderately fast. If you’re lucky, you may see the sensor heads trying to seek back and forth.I had my kids in to see this because I think it’s cool, and I don’t want them to fear taking something apart in hopes of fixing it. I probably could have come up with a better alternative to slowing down the platter by placing the screwdriver on the edge.

On the top-left is a little plastic arm that prevents the head from moving until the drive is spun up.

When the drive accesses data, the disk is spinning at a constant rate — for this drive, 7200rpm or 120 revolutions per second — and the head moves in and out. Effectively, what happens is the desired chunk of data will eventually be under the head. (This is a better representation.)Step 6: For visibility, remove the upper platter. This drive has two 3″ platters and a sensor head on each side. Thus, each platter is 125Gb, or 62.5Gb per side. It’s about a million times denser than the hard drives when I was a freshman in college.To remove the top platter, you’ll need to take all six screws out of the centerpiece. This is pretty hard because the drive wants to spin. I found (a) holding its edge with a finger, then (b) using a pair of Vice Grips for leverage to rotate my driver tool helped immensely.

It's so easy to get fingerprints on this assembly.

Step 7: the pivot point of the head arm can be removed rotating the inner piece counter-clockwise with a flat blade screwdriver. Next, pry off the chip from the bottom-left. The head should just come right out. Once this is done, the second platter will come out.

That's it?! Yes.

This is a horizontal view of the head assembly. This is the most fragile piece on the assembly as each head is designed to float just above the spinning platter.

All your disk are belong to us.

Step 8: Admire the destruction. Rub the rare earth magnet in random circles and directions on each side of each platter. Data is now erased.After taking apart four drives, I have a ten platters and several other interesting looking metallic parts for a future project.

It’s the small things…

jim — Sun, 28 Aug 2011 05:47:13 +0000

Wordpress.com has a new plugin package, “Jetpack,” that incorporates their stats and a bunch of other random functions that replace the original WordPress Stats module. While skimming through the list, I came across this: For the Math geeks, a simple way to include beautiful mathematical expressions on your site. That way is… LaTeX, which I haven’t used since the dark ages. Navigating dark and musty mental cobwebs, I took a few baby steps:

Squee!Unfortunately, as , the first formula, , becomes controversial. Hat tip to John for letting me know this and how the opera in the Fifth Element was done. It’s one of my favorite blogs to read.Math: it’s not just for engineers, scientists, mathematicians, actuaries, geeks and smart-asses.

You say , I say ... wha -- funeral directors?

	60Csx	Oregon 450
Display (w x h, pixels)	160×240	240×400
Battery life (theoretical, hours)	18	16
Geocaches + child waypoints	1000	2000
Compass	2D	3D
Expansion	miniSD	miniSD
Geocache types supported	One¹	All