ZogBlog

As you get older the path starts to become a bit clearer. When you are younger the path is obscured by all the possibilities - and none of the realities. And sometimes reality hits you hard, even if you don't see it coming.

When I was proabably about 12, I was over at a pool party because I really liked this girl. So like all boys at that age I did something stupid. I went down the slide to the pool - but stayed at the end. This ruined it for the girl who was next. I just wanted to hold her so bad... I actually thought that this was a good idea. She yelled something like - "Hey! Dumbass... move." No! I said sheepishly. "Alright I'm coming anyway!" The moment I had been waiting for didn't quite go as planned. Her feet hit the base of my spine like a jack hammer. It couldn't have been good for her (she probably has foot/ankle problems to this day) - or for me (I have constant lower back issues now). I remember sinking to the bottom of the pool in agony. I forgot why I had done such a stupid thing in the first place and could only think of the excruciating pain I was in.

It was this kind of decision making ability that led me to the Navy with its training in electrical and electronic engineering. I figured, hey why not. I get money for college, and I get the base knowledge in electronics that I'll need to become a computer chip engineer. I even thought that I would someday topple the evil empire who had been stagnating computer systems for years. Yeah, you know them. IBM. What did you think I was going to say Microsoft? The reason they exist in the first place is because IBM was so freaking inept! Besides as it turns out, I like Microsoft. :P

The Navy may have been the exact wrong path for my goal. But you know what? My goal changed. Intel was really putting the afterburners on, and I found out that what I really wanted to be was a software engineer. A little dBase scripting, a little HTML, a little CSS/JavaScript and a healthy dose of XML/XSLT added themselves to my toolbox over the years. I eventually shed the travesty some call the US Navy, and moved into the government sector as a consultant. I grew my web experience with ASP and SQL Server 7. Redesigning the SharePoint page factory to allow for a static header/footer and a scrolling body (all via DHTML) was my crowning achievement. Even as SharePoint seemed poised to eradicate the small website (little did I know it was a nightmare to install and configure), .NET seemed to be my true path into REAL software engineering (aka enlightenment). I was so early in the game that I started by reengineering a b1 app to work in b2 (with about a thousand modifications to shoehorn in a number of new requirements) - pretty much with no help, no books, and nary a word on Google. I rode it hard... and then inexplicably I got off - at the very top.

So where did I go? I became a Central Site Engineer for a worldwide engagement of SMS2.0. I was trained by one of the world's leading experts, a senior Microsoft consultant, for just over a year. I then took on the task of pushing the entire infrastructure to SMS2003 - by myself. I was a one man band at the top. No help this time, and it was a monumental task. But more importantly, working SMS was another one of my BIG blunders. First the Navy, and then SMS.

I'm back doing development now, but have begun to recognize that I have a number of gaps in my toolset. I don't know (or have no experience in) .NET remoting, Web Services, Unit and performance testing, or even worked on a dev team larger than ONE (until now, with TWO). In fact my largest website was only used by a few hundred people.

Miraculously, an old coworker of mine flourished in this environment and was ultimately snapped up by Microsoft Consulting Services. That's a pretty big coup considering this environment. His limited skillset was quickly widened almost immediately when he joined Microsoft. Within the first year he had done so many things I couldn't count. I was left in the dust. To be fair, he already had an MCSD and had written a book before Microsoft even considered him. Still it was a miraculous thing.

I believe that I can fill in those gaps, but it will take time and most likely it will require a radical shift in my life. Any radical shift is difficult, but this will be very, very hard because of a large outside interest: Women. See my PDC Hotties posts for an idea of just how much I think of them.

Either way it's time for me to take a good, long look at the path I'm on and where its going. Is that where I really want to be? My old government boss asked me something just before I left him to join my current team: "You need to figure out what you want to do when you grow up." Even though he had a few drinks when he said it, he's still right. I do. After all, life is a journey. Even if you take the wrong path, you can get back to the right one - it just takes a little extra work. First to identify it, then to walk it. I may have identified a general direction with the manifesto of this blog, but seeing the true path and walking the path are two very different things.

The extra work in walking the path is not a problem - as my PM once told me: "Stop working so hard." Unfortunately, I took this to heart. It's time to start working again. I've made a good start with the team I'm on. Now I just need to find out if they can take me where I want to be.

My brother [Frank] and his friend [Jonathon] boisterously charged into our room numerous times throughout the night (with Maria and Sara to add to the humiliation), and yet still had the energy to wake up before 9am to go eat breakfast. I went to breakfast by about 9:30a (my first meal to stay down since the alcohol). The omelet wasn't half bad, and the dining facility was even better than the officers mess onboard my old ship (USS JFK / CV-67).

By 11:10a we headed to the Shore Excursion briefing [with Maria and Sara]. I chose Chichen Itza for Playa Del Carmen, and Snuba for Cozumel, and picked up the tickets shortly thereafter.

By lunch my appetite was coming back - so I had a dragon roll (stale sushi - probably using short grain rice) and a steak salad. Then it was off to the Internet Cafe to figure out how I was going to get access. After it was all said and done, I paid $55 for 100 minutes of dial-up access [I used 20 min total - too busy partying I guess]. Numerous problems conspired to reduce its effectiveness however, as the satellite went down once... and I kept getting timed out. 15 minutes of access time later, here I sit typing out my experience. Looking across the azure blue sea, I remember the call... and there are plenty of sirens on this boat.

I had wanted to hit the spa and get a message, but it turns out that they are booked solid today [and as it turned out, every day we were at sea]. So, I rounded up the guys and took them to the Sauna. We ran into the girls [Maria and Sara] on the way (~3:30p) and they were already started on some coconut drinks.

When I got back from the sauna, I sent my brother off to iron my shirt for tonight (thanks Frank). I need the shirt ironed because tonight is the formal dinner. I'll be wearing black pants, a yellow shirt and a red tie. My jacket is a black herringbone sport coat. Let's see if the girls like it.

I never found Maria and Sara... but I did me some hot chicks [all hairstylists, and you can tell from the sweet hair on all three] while in line for the formal dinner. Angela had NINE tattoos, piercings, pink hair and was wearing a really hot black dress - she was definitely my favorite by a long shot. Barbara was just a little thicker [not fatter, beefier - she looked like a tough woman] than Angela, didn't have the pink hilites - but could have easily been Angela's sister; and Kelsey was a thick blond (who apparently wasn't wearing panties the whole night - nasty girl ;). Dinner was great with them, and afterwards I ran into the them again at the Karaoke party while Frank and Jonathon were playing Blackjack.

I almost ended up doing Addicted to Love with the three of them as my backup singers, but we had to rush on over to the "Show" @ 10:30. I tried finding Frank and Jonathon, but didn't see them. I ended up at the show with all three women to myself. That's when Maria and Sara showed up, and it was at this point that I was sitting with FIVE woman - NOW THIS IS A CRUISE BABY! Naturally that's not enough... so Angela (the hot chick with the tattoos, piercings and pink hilites) corrupts me by giving me a Tequila shot, followed by a Yeager shot in her room [man, why didn't I see that she was in to me?].

Soon after I found myself at the Reflections dance club dancing with the three hairstylists (Maria and Sara who had disappeared right after the show). I *tore* up the floor and had all three women grinding with me. Damn, I felt *GOOD*. I tried dancing with Angela as much as I could, got at least one picture with her (and parked it like it was hot - which it was). At one point I just couldn't dance with her anymore... without being, ahhh... embarrassed :(. This went on till around 4am... and at one point moved to the sun decks. [At which point my aloof behavior made me miss out on getting to know Angela better. I now believe she was trying to get my attention - I was too stupid to catch it.]

So after putting my suit case together all sunday night, sleeping for 4 hours, I arrived safely at the airport. First I stood in the NWA line, until I realized that the Delta self-check-in terminals were all available (that and I was getting on a Delta flight).

So, stupidity aside... I slip in my credit card, and begin tapping away on the computer screen. Ok, let's see... by destination... Mobile. Nope. Fine. So I do it by flight number. Nope, "Reservation cannot be found." Ok, I give up. The attendant says it didn't work because I wasn't "smiling".

Now on the plane... now in Atlanta... now in Mobile. Yep, there's my brother.

We got to the pier... and stood in line for about two hours. Carnival has got to be the worst! Once we reached the front of the line - some old blind guy was directing people to the booking assistants. When the assistant was ready to take someone they would wave a card with their stations number on it. The old guy missed it so, so many times. Many, many customers were trying to help him... but in the end he turned a 30 minute line into a 2 hour one. I really wanted to punch him.

Once on the ship we met up with Maria (roll your rrrrr's <g>) and Sara (two cute young Puerto Rican sisters). I decided to get the party started with TWO "Cruise Special" drinks. Basically a regular sized glass filled with four shots of various liquors. Apparently 2 (~8 shots?) is TOO much for me. Since Maria and Sara eat at 8:00p at the 4 Seasons and we were scheduled for 8:30p at the 7 Seas, I went to the Maitre-D to have our dinner time changed. They said they would drop something in our room at ~3p tomorrow to let us know (apparently there was a waiting list). Before long the alcohol convinced me to join the ship's dancers (that and Maria and Sara were dancing). [I seem to recall doing the Electric Boogie - wow I was drunk.] When the alcohol finally kicked in full swing, I was sick... for the rest of the night - and even missed dinner. I tried eating some salad later that night, but just couldn't keep it down. Sadly I missed meeting up with Maria and Sara at the singles night dance at Reflections. [Though my brother and his friend dropped by the room with the girls 3 or 4 times WHILE I was in bed. I'm on the left below, my brother is on the right.]

Got a ride in a limo... well, sorta. The cabbie from my night out at Arnie Morton's (the one with the hottie hostess) in LA happened to be a one woman show. Her Lincoln was nice, so I figured it was worth the $45 ride to the airport.

Though my nose was still running and I had a pounding headache... I was not all that upset that I didn't get my first class upgrade. Nor was I upset that my $3's of cola gummies from the Catarina's candy store at Gate 66 were some cheap mexican knockoff. Basically I kinda slept most of the day away... and tried not to talk to people. Sure there were hot women everywhere, and yes I did comment on one chicks tattoo - but I was in no mood to be suave, let alone rico. :P

What bothered me the most... didn't hapen till a day later. Because I was sick, I didn't immediately unpack my case. I figured the fact that the incompetent baffoons (known as the TSA) couldn't have f*cked with my bag a second time. I mean - they did rifle through my case on the way to LA and nearly broke my laptop, so why would pull that kind of monkey-stupid stunt again?

And yet, they did. This time they rifled through my luggage... and then put it all back together not just wrong, but so wrong sh*t got screwed up. My shoes were crushed into some odd shape, my luggage strap was tore all to hell, my shaving bag was crushed at some odd angle that it was never intended to make, and my laptop (which was between several layers of clothes and inside my PDC05 tote bag) was placed back in so that the outer case was all scratched up with a pin (which was cleverly unlatched so as to cause the most damage) that was never near the laptop to begin with (it was in a side pocket).

Now, I understand the need for security; I understand that this country went ape-shit after 9/11; I understand that many of our most prized freedoms have been eroded in the name of hunting down terrorists. What I don't understand is how we can allow such an incredibly incompetent agency to continue to exist in its current form. Who did we go to when putting this farce together? Was it Israel (we all know they've become badasses to survive where they live)? Nope, I doubt it. Was it Germany - a country in the heart of Europe which experienced a number of terrorist attacks before the average American citizen had a clue? No, I'm sure it wasn't the Germans because the Frankfurt airport only implements such assanine levels of incompetence on request of the US government (and they still do it better). Who then? I mean the TSA is so bad, Carlos Mencina would have to give these retarded folks a Dee-Dee-Dee award!!

It's not like I'm talking without any knowledge either. My father was a cop for a number of years - both in, and out of the Army. He's worked for CID and he's been a private sector detective. He even works for TSA RIGHT NOW. My dad's a smart guy. We don't see eye to eye on everything, but he's a hard worker who tries to do right. When the TSA was first being formed his experience led him to become a shift supervisor for these screeners. I'm sure he's trained them well, but poor, mismatched and incompetent policies can't make it easier (witness the mismatched policies on removing your shoes). To top it all off, the screeners represent the bottom of the barrel. In fact, in many cases they had worked for the airports themselves prior to 9/11... the only difference now is the new uniform. Sure, some of them were those security guards you see in every mall and school; some were even the weakest link among actual cops; I would submit that very few are as competent as my father, and now they are the frontline of our defense against terrorism.

Are you scared yet? No. Well, at the least you should be pissed off that they are screwing up our personal belongings. It's as if we've given the government the right to go into our houses while we are at work... randomly pulling things off the shelves. TV's, computers, microwaves. It doesn't matter if it breaks - that's the price of security right? Sounds like the TSA is more like the MOB then we care to admit.

Here's your protection money Uncle Sam. Please don't destroy my laptop on my next flight. Pretty-please.

Tags: [TSA]