Blackmoor Vituperative

What I am listening to while I work, at the moment: a podcast from Paul Gilmartin (one of the hosts from Dinner and a Movie), having a conversation with Frank Conniff (most well-known for his work on Mystery Science Theater 3000).

Paul: “Frank, how’re you doing?”
Frank: “Other than my crippling depression, I’m doing great.”

I am going to post a photo of a coffee mug every day in August, and talk a little bit about where we got it and why I like it.

Back in 2009, my mother lived in California, and as far as I knew, always would. Susan and I went out to visit her and do the touristy thing in Hollywood. That was, I think, the most stressful trip we have ever had. It was my fault, really. I was seriously considering buying a Play-N-Trade franchise, and it was the only thing I wanted to talk about, and Susan was not too keen on the idea. I eventually decided it was a bad idea, too.

One of the places we visited was Universal Studios Hollywood (Pasadena, actually). That’s where this mug came from. It’s one of the Egyptian warrior mummies from the Brendan Frasier Mummy movies.

I actually don’t like this mug very much. I think it’s ugly. But it is distinctive, which is why I keep it around.

When Herman Raucher met Gentry in preparation for writing a novel and screenplay based on the song, she confessed that she had no idea why Billie Joe killed himself. Gentry has, however, commented on the song, saying that its real theme was indifference:

Those questions are of secondary importance in my mind. The story of Billie Joe has two more interesting underlying themes. First, the illustration of a group of peoples’ reactions to the life and death of Billie Joe, and its subsequent effect on their lives, is made. Second, the obvious gap between the girl and her mother is shown when both women experience a common loss (first Billie Joe, and later, Papa), and yet Mama and the girl are unable to recognize their mutual loss or share their grief.

(from Ode to Billy Joe, Wikipedia)

My family is from North Carolina, and I had a cousin who committed suicide when I was seven or eight. It was the first funeral I ever attended. I remember that I had a hard time trying to keep from giggling (I didn’t think it was funny: it was nervous laughter, an involuntary response to anxiety).

I am going to post a photo of a coffee mug every day in August, and talk a little bit about where we got it and why I like it.

Susan had this mugs before we were married, and I have always liked it. It was the first black coffee mug we owned, and the picture of it is so quirky. It reminds of psychelic pop art from the late 1960s and early 1970s, of the sort pioneered by Heinz Edelmann and Milton Glaser (and later popularized my Peter Max). And yet the color scheme is subdued, which I like. So it’s quirky without being outlandish.

Susan says she bought it at the Williamsburg Pottery back in the 1980s, but she doesn’t remember the specific circumstances.

I am going to post a photo of a coffee mug every day in August, and talk a little bit about where we got it and why I like it.

We got this mug while on a road trip to Niagra Falls. We stopped in DC to visit our friend Nathan (who has since moved to San Diego) and go to Six Flags. The next day we continued on to Hershey, PA, where we went to a cave and then to Hershey Park. The following day, we went to Hershey Park again, all day long. The day after that, we traveled to Niagra Falls (the Canadian side, which is nicer than the American side). We stayed at Niagra Falls for a few days before driving back home again.

Hershey Park was nice. Not as nice as Busch Gardens in Williamsburg, but still, pretty nice. Susan got this mug because she thought it looked “retro” and because it was filled with Hershey Kisses. It might not be obvious in the photograph, but the mug is an antique white color, almost cafe au lait. It’s one of the handful that we consider “her” mugs.

I am going to post a photo of a coffee mug every day in August, and talk a little bit about where we got it and why I like it.

In between working at Circuit City and my current job at OneBookShelf, I did a lot of freelancing and a lot of contracting. Most of these were, by their nature, short term gigs. Come in, take a seat, get the job done, go home and don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.

One of the few contracting gigs which I left of my own accord was with ManTech. It was a great job: I was a Solaris system administrator for the Defense Commissary Agency (DeCA). The only problem was that it was nearly an hour drive away, and closer to 90 minutes away from our dream property (on which we still, at that time, planned to build a house and ultimately retire). However, system administration can be and nearly always is done remotely. There is no technical or security reason why I couldn’t do the job from the other side of the world, much less from 90 minutes away. And as it happens, the US Government, and DeCA in particular, has a policy not just permitting, but actively encouraging telework.

This directive implements the requirements of Section 359 of Public Law No. 106-346 which requires each Agency to establish a policy under which eligible employees of an agency may participate in telework to the maximum extent possible without diminished employee performance.

(DeCA Telework Directive and Guidance)

So I took the position, secure in the knowledge that I would be able to transition to telework.

You should have seen the face of my supervisor the first time I asked when I might be able to transition over to teleworking a few days a week. You’d think I had asked to use the agency’s servers to torrent porn. Suffice to say, the answer was no way, no how, despite the fact that I never actually physically interacted with the agency’s servers (I wasn’t even on the same floor), and that DeCA policy demanded the availability of telework.

I was barely able to stand the drive to work as it was: there was no way I would be able to tolerate a three-hour round-trip commute. So I found another gig, and left ManTech and DeCA behind. This coffee cup is my only souvenir of that experience.

It’s rather a nice mug, though: large, sturdy, with a rubber base and a comfy handle. I use it often.

I am going to post a photo of a coffee mug every day in August, and talk a little bit about where we got it and why I like it.

I used to work for a company called SAIC. Unlike most of my former employers, SAIC is still around, although it’s no longer an employee-owned company, which I think is too bad. My projects supported something called the Partnership for Peace, which is sort of like NATO Junior. I have been fortunate to have been involved with some truly worthwhile projects during my career, but I think the Partnership for Peace was one of the most worthwhile.

I visited ETH Zurich twice for the PfP project. On the first trip, Susan went with me, and that’s when we got this coffee mug. Zurich is an old city with some interesting history, but it’s not really a tourist destination. I am really glad we were able to go, though. We went to a few museums, and we ate fondue at a small restaurant. We also took a bus trip up into the Alps, which was spectacular.

I am watching a movie on demand on cable, called Little Darlings. This is a movie from 1980 about 15-year-old girls at summer camp in a competition to lose their virginity.

This movie reminds me of Meatballs, which came out the previous year. Funny thing is, I think this film has aged much better than Meatballs. Yet Little Darlings has been all but forgotten.

Such a strange mix of memories, watching this. My parents went to drive-in movies during the 1970s, and I remember seeing trailers for this and Foxes, but until now, I’d never seen either of them. Little Darlings stars Tatum O’Neal, Kristy McNichol, Matt Dillon, and Armand Assante. I thought Kristy McNichol was super cute, at the time, although I don’t think I was quite “aware” of girls yet (although I thought I was). I wonder what happened to to her and Tatum O’Neal. I feel for them both in this film. When Kristy McNichol’s eyes tear up during the scene with Matt Dillon in the … some kind of shack, I guess… my heart really breaks for her.

And then I wonder if I’m a perv for even watching this. And then I wonder what sort of person would make a movie about 15 year old girls in a competition to lose their virginity. It’s kind of messed up, isn’t it?

But mainly, it reminds me of what it was like to be a something-less-than-15-year-old boy, entranced by girls who seemed like they’d be forever beyond my reach.

I am going to post a photo of a coffee mug every day in August, and talk a little bit about where we got it and why I like it.

I bought this mug at a thrift store in Portsmouth, VA, which is where we used to live. I don’t have a fun story or any special memories associated with this mug. Despite that, it’s one of my favorite coffee mugs. It’s solid, reliable, and attractive, and I don’t have to worry too much about accidentally breaking it.

I am drinking coffee out of it right now.

I am going to post a photo of a coffee mug every day in August, and talk a little bit about where we got it and why I like it.

We bought this mug at Disneyland in 2009. We were in California visiting my mother, who no longer lives there. (My mother has always been a restless soul.) As luck would have it, it was the 40th anniversary of the Haunted Mansion, so we were able to get some cool coffee mugs commemorating the event. This is one of them.

The Haunted Mansion itself was rather disappointing. It had been re-dressed in the style of A Nightmare Before Christmas, basically ruining the ride. The fantastic “dancing ghosts” scene was completely ruined. Ah, well. We still have our memories of the first time we went, which was when I lived out there in the late 1980s, and Susan came out to visit me. She had dyed-black hair back then. I was so thoroughly smitten.

Sadly, the printing on this mug is water-soluble: what you see in the photo is the result after the cup was washed by hand, once. I was standing at the sink, washing it gently, and the ink was wiping right off. Very disappointing. I stopped washing it, dried it carefully, and we’ve not used it since.

Still, it was a very nice trip, and I’m glad we went. This was before the TSA introduced their “sexual assault” screening procedures: back then, the TSA screening was merely pointless (which it still is, of course). It will probably be the last trip by airplane we take unless the TSA eliminates their sexual assaults on airplane passengers. Frankly, I think the TSA should simply be eliminated. It accomplishes nothing.

Not that I’m bitter or anything.