December 2003 Archives

Click here, or on any photo to see my album of photos from this trip.

Lots to talk about as we finish our three days in New York. But, before we get to the day, a little housekeeping.

First, there's the question of Internet access. The Millennium Broadway doesn't have high speed access. In this day and age, that's inexcusable. I knew it coming in. The location was our most pressing concern. Still...

The first night, I used dial up and got a fairly decent speed. I haven't used dial up regularly in a long time. I don't want to get used to it again.

The Sony Vaio laptop I brought along had a WiFi 802.11b card in the PCMCIA slot, so I tried to see if it would find anything. Zip from the desk. I moved the laptop to my lap and sat by the window. With all the buildings surrounding our hotel you'd think there would be some activity... and there was.

Using Netstumbler, I started looking at what I was hearing. First, most of the activity is concentrated on channel 6, which is in the middle of the band and probably the default for most access points. It was for mine (though I've since moved it).

Much of the traffic is WEP encrypted. That's smart. There was a cluster of encrypted AP's, all with ID's that made me think they were owned by Bertelsmann Music Group. There were other encrypted transmitters and, a few that were open and in the clear. They just weren't very strong.

Thursday evening, I was able to send and receive my mail using an AP that identified itself as Apple and then a cryptic series of digits. Probably an Apple AirPort. I sent myself an email through that AP to see the actual IP address. It was routed using road Runner, which is the time Warner cable modem service.

When the weather turned rainy on Friday, I was no longer able to connect to Apple or any other in the clear AP's.

Over time, we grew to dislike our little room. It never really seemed clean and had some stains in strange places that weren't right. The bathroom floor always seemed dull, even after the maid had visited.

I still don't know how a hotel becomes 4-star. Is it self assigned?

Finally, I made an interesting discovery, looking at our window on that rainy Friday morning. There were weeds and moss growing on the top of an air conditioner unit. I am unsure if this unit is associated with the hotel or an adjacent building.

Now, with all this said, it's on to Friday. It was a rainy day - the antithesis of Thanksgiving. Thank heavens the parade was yesterday!

Helaine and Steffie wanted to do some shopping and go to lunch before we headed back to Connecticut. We left the hotel and headed toward Macy's. Being a good weather oriented family, we were prepared with the proper outerwear.

Macy's isn't too long of a walk, so we headed out to Broadway and then downtown, toward 34th Street. As you leave Times Square, Broadway is a monotonous series of cereal box office buildings with first floor storefronts. It is an area without much charm.

Macy's is located in Herald Square. I'm not sure how it got its name. It might be a similar story to Times Square, in that there was a New York Herald (which, by the time I was growing up was the Herald Tribune, and whose Sunday supplement was New York Magazine).

Macy's is probably unlike any other store you've ever seen. Its two buildings cover a full city block with 10 stories and over 1,000,000 square feet. Above the 4th floor, the metal escalators give way to wooden ones that must be fifty years old. The store is beautifully decorated for Christmas.

Since Macy's attracts so many shoppers, it also attracts its fair share of everything else. By the time we got there, there was already a TV crew with a microwave truck from one of the local stations. I also saw a reporter/photographer team from a Spanish newspaper and a long photographer from Women's Wear Daily.

There were also protesters. I'm sure this isn't isolated. Macy's was being picketed by animal rights activists, who themselves were corralled into a small pen, shouting about animals being killed to make fur coats. Outside the front entrance, a lone woman railed on about Macy's policy of racial profiling and how they had a prison in the basement. If she was changing hearts, it was impossible to see. No one seemed to pay her any mind.

As Helaine and Steffie went shopping, I walked through the area. It's not a really thriving shopping district, though there is a lot going on. The area holds Penn Station, Madison Square Garden, and The Empire State Building.

Across from Macy's, in a microscopic triangular shaped park, Yahoo had set up four laptops with wireless Internet access and was extolling their shopping site. Everyone I saw who entered their little promotion won a hat... except me.

I met the girls at the base of the down escalator, and we left the store and hopped on the subway. We were heading to Greenwich Village to Jekyll and Hyde - a theme restaurant with a SciFi/Horror bent.

Getting off the subway at Christopher Street, we headed into Sheridan Square. Up ahead was a theater that has been the home to the long running "Naked Boys Singing". Hey, it's Greenwich Village - don't be surprised.

I had actually been at either Jekyll and Hyde or the restaurant next door back in the mid-60's when Bob Weiss' family took Bob and me to see Jean Shepard do his live Saturday night broadcast on WOR. For a kid who idolized Shep, that was an incredible experience. I wonder what happened to bob. I probably haven't spoken to him since 1966 or '67.

Maybe I was a little tired, and ready to go home, but Jekyll and Hyde was not that great for me. I had a pretty good turkey club tortilla wrap, while around us, figures mounted on the walls came to life. At the same time, some jerk at an adjacent table made loud cell phone calls. Across the way, a little girl was celebrating her 4th birthday. I wonder if Jekyll and Hyde would cause her nightmares to help remember the day?

We hopped the subway and headed back north. While I looked at the "Rodenticide" sign, Steffie had a 'wildlife' spotting on the tracks. Obviously Rodenticide only works so long.

By the time we returned to the hotel to pick up the Explorer and head home, it was nearly four. I reached for the claim check... but it wasn't there! We did find it, in my coat which had been left in storage with the bellmen.

The trip home was pretty easy. The day after Thanksgiving may be busy at the stores, but it's less than pedestrian on the Connecticut Turnpike. Manhattan to our house took a little less than two hours.

During our stay in New York, I took nearly 500 photos. On Thanksgiving alone, I snapped nearly 1 GB worth of images. We all had a great time. Our anniversary will go in the books as a happy one. The Macy's Thanksgiving Parade will be a lifetime memory.

As I type this, early Monday morning, Priceline has just sent me a survey, asking about my hotel. I told all.

Click here, or on any photo to see my album of photos from this trip.

This has been a pretty good weekend for me at the tables. I placed well in a bunch of $11 one table tournaments. We are down $27.40 since we started in mid-August. We have been up as much as $10 and then down nearly $150.

Though I was hot this weekend, Helaine is the better, more consistent player.

I watched a little poker on ESPN this afternoon after the Eagles game. They were poker pros... guys at the final table of a big tournament... and some were playing foolishly.

The more I play, the more I realize discipline is paramount. As conservative as I've become, I'm still a long way from where I want to be. You collect in tournaments by losing less, not winning more.

I was sitting here at my desk at home, doing nothing (a common occurrence) when the phone rang. It was Jim Vicevich from WTIC radio (and formerly every TV station in Connecticut). He was in a small pickle and was wondering if I would fill in on his radio show tomorrow.

This is like asking Christina Aguillara if she'd like to look a little more tawdry. Of course I would.

So, tomorrow I'm on from 10 AM to noon on WTIC - 1080.

This is a classic radio station; one of the few remaining dominant AM stations left. At one time, its morning show was the highest rated in the country!

I wonder if I was really his first choice? To quote Bob from the furniture commercials, "I doubt it."

Overnight, the temperatures had been predicted to fall... and they did. Before dawn a small and light band of snow showers passed over parts of Connecticut. That was a surprise, but so little snow that 99 out of 100 times it would make no difference.

The ground was still above freezing and so the snow melted. But the temperature was falling, and so before it could evaporate away, that light coating of snow became a coating of ice.

The flurries persisted, covering the ice with snow.

All of this was under 1/8" thick and yet it was enough to gum up the works through much of Central Connecticut - including where I'm going, to be on the radio.

I'd better get moving, even though it's earlier than I anticipated.

With the light snow, and numerous traffic accidents, I left about 20 minutes earlier than I anticipated to get to the radio station. Helaine always worries in bad weather, so with clear pavement under my tires, I called while on Route 40, approaching I-91.

I told her things were fine, but as I was saying that the traffic stopped. I'm not talking about a slowdown; the traffic totally halted. It took about 45 minutes to go from the top of the entrance ramp to the bottom! Take a look at the photo on the right. The road is totally free of snow, ice or any moisture - but no one's going anywhere.

Meanwhile, the clock was ticking. I was in touch with the producers at WTIC, letting them know of my plight. But I wasn't alone. Tens of thousands of motorists were stranded too in a multitude of tie-ups and road closures.

By 9:20 AM my fate was sealed. After speaking with the traffic reporter, Mike the producer decided that I'd never make it to WTIC in time to be on the air. By this, he didn't mean I'd be late - he figured I'd miss the entire two hours.

This had never happened to me. In all my years of driving in to work, going home for dinner and coming back, I had never missed a broadcast.

I guess as the weatherman it's doubly embarrassing. Truth is, this was such a confluence of unlikely weather events that given the same situation tomorrow, I'd sill miss it.

Here's one more reason for me to dislike winter. It looks like there's a major winter storm heading toward the East Coast for Thursday/Friday/Saturday.

Fine.

Except, the ETA (a computer model) brings in loads of moisture at temperatures that imply snow, while the GFS (yet another model) scoots it just our our south.

One of the models is dreadfully wrong. Actually, both could be dreadfully wrong. The question is, will I be gleefully right?

I got a call from Pat Seremet at the Hartford Courant yesterday. She had heard how I missed my shot at WTIC. The weatherman, unable to attend because of weather. Now that's news!

I've attached her story to the link below.

Let me explain the use of the term "Perfect Storm." In order for us to have had this teeny bit of snow stop a significant portion of the state, everything had to fall in line in exactly the right order. It was an incredibly unlikely set of circumstances. If any single thing would have changed, we wouldn't have noticed the snow at all.

It's the holiday season. Time to buy gifts. Is there a better way to buy something than with a credit card?

Our credit card of choice is affiliated with Southwest Airlines. As we pay for food and gas and gifts, we accumulate free airplane trips. And, since we pay off our bill each and every month, these trips cost no more than the yearly credit card fee. It's a great deal.

It's a great deal for the bank too. They get our yearly fee and make a cut on everything we buy. And, since we charge a lot, they get a lot.

There's just one problem - the bank that actually issues the card and runs the program has cut it off three times.

It's not like we're bad people... this card has never had a late payment. And, we haven't even been in the same neighborhood as our limit. Our problem is, we've used the card too many times in a single day.

I know - you thought they encouraged you to use the card. I thought that too.

Yesterday, as I'm told, our card was used 14 times. None of these purchases were extremely large. We charged a $230 airline ticket, some groceries, a gift or two or three. You get the idea.

To the bank, this looked like the pattern a thief would use. So, they flagged the card, and when Helaine tried to buy something for me online - delivered to our own address - the bank refused to accept the transaction.

I guess they're entitled to do this, but here's what bothers me. They cut us off and never told us. All they had to do was make a call. Mr. Fox, did you make this purchase? We found out when we tried to buy something.

My suspicion is, it's cheaper for them to wait for the customer to contact them, or use the clerk at the store. For me... for my wife... this is astoundingly embarrassing. This time it was a mail order purchase, but the last time a clerk at the grocery store said to Helaine; "That happens to me when I go over my limit." Great.

As a public person, I try and protect my public image. Now this bank gets to sully it, for no apparent reason. I have received every excuse known to man from the security department and no apologies.

I am beginning to simmer.

I have two friends in Los Angeles who I've known since college in the late 60's. They are both in 'the business'. It is interesting to watch them operate.

They have both laughed at the fact that I have a job where someone pays my health insurance and I get a salary while on vacation. The fact that I work with a multi-year guaranteed contract astounds them (heck - it astounds even me).

I love to watch them both wheel and deal. I'm probably a little jealous. They're in a world of make believe and pressure, with the hint of glamour.

In Los Angeles, it's not unusual to root against a friend's success. Isn't that weird? Luckily, being an out-of-towner, I can be proud of their successes.

Last night, my friend Paul won at the 2003 DVD Exclusive Awards:

Best Overall DVD, TV Program (including all extra features): The Dick Van Dyke Show—Season One - Paul Brownstein

The bottom line is, not only does he get this award, but he also had the opportunity to work with Carl Reiner and Dick Van Dyke. And, since it's show business, he even has the chance to make some money.

I couldn't be prouder.

Do you like snow or hate it? We've asked Connecticut residents, on TV, and the majority always goes for snow. Go figure?

I couldn't be more opposite. I dislike the snow and nearly everything about it. Sure, in the beginning things look pretty, but then there's the price we pay. Roofs can leak. Cars get stuck or spin out or find something to hit before stopping. Schools and businesses are closed, which costs all of us money in the long run. After a few days, it's that crunchy, charcoal shaded permasnow. And then, there are the scrapers.

If you pay taxes (and if you don't, please email me with your secret), you pay for snow in the cost of road clearing and then road repair. By definition, most snows come when crews aren't normally scheduled to work. So, most snows incur some sort of overtime or bonus pay.

After last winter, Frank who plows at our house, bought a château in the south of France.

Viewers think, because I'm a weatherman, and because my job gets more important when the weather is 'bad', that I like bad weather. Nothing could be farther from the truth. To me, there's more downside to forecasting snow. We make many more predictions, like wind, visibility, actual liquid equivalent, liquid to snow conversion rates, etc, ad nausea.

When I'm wrong, people remember and they're more than willing to let me know. Hey, why not? I put myself up there as someone who can predict the future. When I can't, I should answer for my call.

Because of all of this, I have a very limited perspective when it comes to snow. In the abstract, I revile it. But, once I predict it, bring it on. No matter how painful for me, if I call for 14", please God bring me 14" - no more, no less!

I'm writing this during a break in the action with a major snowstorm hitting Connecticut. There's a Winter Storm Warning in effect now and a Blizzard Warning which kicks in tomorrow morning. I called for 8-14" over most of the state. Please - someone throw the switch at 14, otherwise this system has the potential to bring a whole lot more.

I just took a look at my Google page rank. My home page now shows up at 6 of 10. I was astounded when I went from 3 to 5; this is ridiculous.

Here's how Google explains what page rank means:

The TV station's site, wtnh.com, is also a 6... and they have two full time staffers plus part time help when needed.

My guess is, links earned by posting on Slashdot boosted me. I know a few bloggers have me as a permanent link, and I'm appreciative because that helps too.

I have been looking at the computer models as they come and, and watching the radar in between. I'm wondering if this storm is losing some of its potential to produce snow?

A bad forecast will keep me housebound for a while. There is no upside to being wrong.

My friend John Matthews forecasts in West Palm Beach, FL. At this moment, I am incredibly jealous.

We're in the midst of the storm now. There had been a lull for much of the morning, but now the snow is back in earnest. The latest computer models say we'll get enough snow by tonight that my forecast will come true.

The official meteorological term for this is 'verify,' as in "the forecast verified."

I've attached a visible satellite image on the left. It's very impressive and very unusual. There is an 'eye' to this storm, almost like a hurricane or tropical storm. There are structural differences in this storm, it's not a tropical system. Still the picture is very impressive.

The lead story on Extreme Tech is all about building a computer. Build It: A Speedy PC For $800

I'm certainly not adverse to building a computer. The PC this is being typed on was assembled right here on my office floor from parts I specified. It does everything I designed it to do (though it has incredibly noisy fans to remove its internal heat, and I wish I would have designed that out). And, as a bonus, it actually worked when I plugged it in!

The question is why build... and even if you want to, how much longer will that be possible?

My computer was built to edit video. To that end, I threw in the ATI All-In-Wonder 8500DV video card (on which the DV "Firewire" connection never did work) and a Soyo motherboard with built-in RAID (two disk drives act as one for the faster service necessary for video). The on-board audio conflicts with the video card, meaning I then had to go get another audio card.

It was a great learning experience, but today you can buy machines off the shelf that do the same thing. And, increases in processor speed cover a variety of sins. So a machine not totally optimized for video will still do fine because everything else is so much faster and the disk drives are so much larger.

As I was passing by Home Shopping Network earlier today, they were selling a Gateway PC (I am not a fan of any particular brand. All major computer manufactures are just putting together other people's parts.) with 17" monitor and printer for under $1200. The CPU on their machine is better than twice as fast as mine! If you're interested, here are the specs.

It's tough to build when a speedy machine, pre-assembled, sells for a price like that.

For hobbyists, like me, there will always be the allure of building the 'perfect' screaming machine. But, I suspect within the next few years that won't be possible either.

I remember in high school, a friend of mine bough a Model "A" Ford and restored it to running condition by hand. What he couldn't get, he modified. Now, there's hardly anything on a car you can fix or modify on your own.

Computers are going in that same direction. There are a number of reasons, but the most significant seems to be intellectual property rights. My computer is capable of copying DVDs... even copy protected DVDs. I can do all sorts of other things that upsets other rights holders too!

Just as printer manufacturers have added chips to try and thwart aftermarket ink cartridge manufacturers, PCs will be 'smarter' (really more restrictive) in what they let you do. The quaint concept of 'fair use' will go out the window, because manufacturers now understand how easily their hard work is ripped off.

Will future versions of Windows be built so it only works with 'trusted' hardware and software that can be more closely controlled? My opinion is, yes. Sure, a computer could be run on Linux or some yet-to-be-designed operating system, but that would deprive you of much of what's available today.

I'm not sure where the 'sweet spot' is, balancing the rights of those who produce with the rights of those who use. I suspect that PC's wouldn't be where they are today... capable of doing what they do... if the restrictions to come had existed earlier.

I have noticed a new trend recently. Some of my spam is non-English!

Xenophobic? Not exactly... well, sort of. The web runs mostly in English, and since this is where the "money * people" equation gives the highest result, it is where commercial email is aimed.

Over the past few days I've received email with Chinese characters (which my Linux machine does a better job with than my Windows machine) and today Russian. Granted, because I'm using popfile, and because I seldom see anything but the subject of my spam mail, this might have been going on for a while without my noticing.

The Russian mail looked interesting, with a photo of a man and well formatted Cyrillic text. I ran it through Babelfish to get the general idea.

Here's the Babelfish translation (it's tough to follow):

It seems to be something political, something about 'apple', something about governance in Russia. It's not a happy note. There are probably too many idiomatic phrases to be translated this way and get a reasonable understanding.

So, I sent the spam to Alex Moskalyuk. Alex is a tech guy with a blog. We ran into each other on the net after he linked to one of my stories and then added my blog as a permanent link on his website... which is partially in Russian. He wrote a review about "Secure Programming Cookbook for C and C++", which is linked on the front page of Slashdot. Very impressive.

Here's Alex's read on the message:

So, now you know about my Russian spam, and a little bit about what's going on in Russia. Thanks Alex.

The December 5-7 storm is over. From late Wednesday on, my call was pretty close (before Wednesday it looked like rain to me), which will remove me from clinical depression for the time being. Mind you, I wasn't perfect - a bit low in some spots - but most of the state got what I called for, and the duration of the storm certainly lived up to expectations.

The Connecticut DOT tallies the snow at each of their garages. That's the chart on the left. Click it for a larger, readable version.

I am not writing this from Lincoln Financial Field. I did not take Amtrak to Philadelphia. I assume my friend Barry is sitting home and not at the game either.

It's a real shame, because I wanted to go to the game. But, it was not to be. Even though the snow stopped overnight, there was no reasonable expectation that my train would be able to hold to its schedule. It would originate in Springfield, MA and then move south through Hartford before getting to New Haven's Union Station.

The Eagles game is the glamor game in the NFL today. The Eagles and Cowboys are both contenders. A win by the Eagles assures them a playoff spot with 3 more to play. An Eagle loss would give them both the same record, but put Dallas ahead by virtue of 2 head-to-head wins.

Here in Connecticut, the game wasn't shown on TV. Instead, we got the Giants and Redskins. Even parents of players on those teams wanted the Eagles game!

Helaine and I sat and listened to the game on the PC. Three weeks ago, I subscribed to the NFL audio package, and it's pretty good. Our feed is from WYSP with Merrill Reese (who I worked with 23 years ago) and Mike Quick.

All the commercials are removed, leaving dead air. Believe it or not, you miss the commercials. The silence spoils the flow of the game. Actually, the commercial pauses hurts the game at the stadium too.

Happily, the Eagles won big... big enough that I've already heard two sportscasters on two separate networks call it a rout.

Barry has invited me. again, two weeks from today. It's tough to resist.

As I was sitting in front of my Pixo AT700 17" LCD Monitor, white smoke began to pour out! Oh my God.

I often leave with the monitor turned on.

Back to Staples tomorrow.

I'm positive that when I was escorted out of college (I originated the "Accelerated Dismissal Program" at Emerson College), I mumbled something about never taking a test again! That was such a good idea. I should have stuck with it.

I have just finished taking my two finals for this semester at Mississippi State; Severe Weather and Statistical Climatology. I had a very good average in Stat Climo, so went a little light on the studying. My thought was, there was enough padding to hide a bad final and still get an "A". Let's hope I was right.

In Severe Weather I needed to do really well in order to get an "A", thanks to a poor showing on my midterm. This test wasn't too bad, though the instructor used contingent answers. So, in essence, many of the questions were two questions and you had to get them both right to get credit for either.

The break point for an "A" is so high for me in that class that I worry something as simple as a typo could be my undoing. In my first year, I got a number of questions wrong because my mouse was in the wrong spot when I clicked. That surprised me then.

I also had trouble with questions that used double, or sometimes, triple negative concepts. Things like: "which of these isn't true," and then the examples contain negative ideas. I'm sure the instructor didn't want the questions to be too easy, but this seemed to value semantics and syntax over a deeper understanding of the syllabus.

I am now on Winter Break. I know I'm married, with a child, and over 50, but doesn't this entitle me to go to Cancun or South Padre Island and do body shots?

Hell - I don't even drink. What kind of college student am I?

Within the past few days two of my friends have had significant career achievements that I wanted to mention.

I wrote about Paul, who I've known since 1969, winning a DVD award. Now, I have a photo to prove it. That's Paul Brownstein with Dick Van Dyke (Paul calls the project the DVD-DVD) whose commentary, along with Carl Reiner's, had more than a little to do with Paul's win.

I also heard from Marcia Mule. Before I go on, let me tell you you're mispronouncing her name. It's Mar-see Mew-lay. Much better!

Marcia, and her partner, are producing a new series on Bravo, "Celebrity Poker Showdown." There's a subject near and dear to my heart. In the first episode, the two best players left early, beaten by a lucky hand. Unfortunately, the two best players were fairly big names, David Schwimmer and Ben Affleck.

Still, the show held my interest, though the poker was far from well played. Alan Pergament wrote a nice article about Marcia and the show in the Buffalo News.

I know Marcia because she was one of our producers at PM Magazine/Buffalo back in the very early 80s. I remember how nice she was then, and how nice her parents were. Back in those days, when I was willing to appear on TV without a shirt (I don't even shower without a shirt now), Marcia's family used to let us use their pool as a location. Those shoots were wonderful.

Marcia and I spent too many days in too many Dodge vans in too much Buffalo snow. I am glad that her production company is getting work and hope she's making huge money and becoming very happy.

I submitted another story to Slashdot, which was accepted and published over the weekend. I like Slashdot, because I think I understand the audience I'll reach. In this case, the story was about do-it-yourself weather forecasting and the tools available on the net.

I mentioned GrADS, software I use to produce weather graphics, and a few government sites. Bright and early Monday morning, I got an email from the GrADS site telling me they had be slashdotted!

"Slashdotted," describes the effect that follows having your web address published on Slashdot. All of a sudden, thousands of geeks from around the world are pounding on your site, trying to see what's so interesting. In many cases, the sites just stop working or crash under the incredible traffic.

The folks from GrADS were actually happy. Their goal is to get their projects and software recognized and used. This got them a little closer.

I knew what would happen if I exposed my site to the barrage, so I linked to a single graphic... a small chart showing forecast conditions in New Haven, CT. It's something so esoteric that no one would have it but me. That one graphic got well over 5,000 hits.

If I would have linked to a full page, with photos and text and links, my site would have gone down under the strain. I also might have exceeded the 6 gigabytes of throughput I pay for (and never use) each month.

I grew up in a small apartment, in a development of 2,300 apartments, in Flushing, Queens, New York City.

There is no one who grew up there who really thinks of it as New York City. Sure, you vote for the mayor and go to New York City schools, but it's a bus and subway to get to Manhattan... and it's Manhattan that's called "The City."

Queens, and its sister borough Brooklyn, are both on Long Island. Yet when we'd venture to Nassau County, we'd say we were going to "The Island."

Flushing in general and Queens in particular have an inferiority complex - some of which is well deserved.

Our apartment, 5E, was tiny. For my sister, our parents, and me, we had two small bedrooms, a microscopic kitchen, dinette, living room and bathroom. There was no closet space to speak of.

The apartment, with only a northern exposure, had no direct sunlight. My bedroom window looked out on a fire escape, which overlooked a huge parking lot. In the distance I could see the Throgs Neck Bridge.

As a child, before air conditioning was allowed in the apartment complex, we'd leave our windows wide open in the summer, hoping for a breath of air. The slow, lumbering, propeller driven planes of that age would rattle the building while taking folks much higher in the social strata to La Guardia Airport.

We weren't well to do. In our section of Queens I never knew a doctor or lawyer or professional. These were working people, many union craftsmen, some laborers.

Anything we kept that couldn't fit in a closet was moved into position along the wall of the single hallway that connected our rooms. My mother had a sewing machine, and it snuggled against the wall where the hallway met the dining room. It didn't seem like the walls were closing in - they actually were, as we accumulated more stuff.

Still, we did accumulate things over time. I believe my folks were adverse to throwing anything away. Helaine tells me I still have some of that pack rat mentality.

This is a really long way to go to tell you what I just did... and I apoolgize. I cleaned out the email folders on my computer. For me, that was a painful decision and process.

I don't like throwing anything away.

First, I backed up all my messages to a DVD-R. There's now 3.5 GB of penis enlargement ads, Nigerian scams, viewer mail and important correspondence on that disk, and I have no idea if I could re-import it if necessary! Still, I couldn't do what followed without that first step.

I wiped out everything in my deleted folder that was put there prior to July. It wasn't too much - NOT! I have just deleted 38,660 messages. There are still over 9,000 left in the deleted folder.

Tomorrow (I'm getting tired right now), I will purge my sent messages. I guess I'll, again, arbitrarily pick a date a started chopping. The sent folder has 14,788 messages.

Why do I save them all?

Every once in a while, I'll look for an email to find an address or remember what someone had said to me (or vice versa). Over time, as with apartment 5E, the walls have started to close in. My computer became more and more sluggish when I had to load the deleted folder. Often, it wouldn't let me directly read what I had searched for, because the database had used so much memory.

Like my folks, as the boxes piled up, I worry that I've thrown out some gem. Hopefully, it won't be a rude awakening.

This was a good week to see my name in print. Nothing earth shattering. I didn't cure cancer... again.

First, in the New Haven Advocate, Colleen Van Tassell (certainly a member of the 'all name' team, and a favorite of mine) wrote:

It's true. When it's cold outside I try and remind people to bring outdoor pets in. My sense is, it's more of a feel good thing than anything else. Most people keep domestic animals inside, and those who don't probably can figure out when it's cold enough to do otherwise.

Still, if one puppy is sleeping on the rug because of what I've said, it's worth it.

My second mention was from Joe Miksch in the Fairfield Weekly (and probably to the other papers in that group, including the afore mentioned Advocate).

Again, I'm thrilled to be mentioned. But, I've got two very small bones to pick.

Joe calls me "avuncular." Let me look in the dictionary, because I believe that means 'uncle like.'

Yup

Couldn't he have said, "Viewers of New Haven's WTNH know Geoff Fox as the studlike, high-energy weatherman." OK - studlike is a little over the top. Pick your own adjective. I'm not choosy. But avuncular makes me sound old.

Actually, it makes me sound like I seem and act old, which is different than actually being old. It is worse.

On to number two. I asked Al Roker for Macy's Parade tickets and he said he didn't have them. That's not being stiffed. Al has been very nice... very generous to me - that goes a long way in my book.

There are a variety of reasons I like Al, not the least of which is, he's very talented, both on and off the air. There are few other people lucky enough to have a natural likability that translates so well on TV.

I last saw Al at The White House. How's that for place dropping!

We, along with TV weather people from around the country were invited to hear Vice President Gore speak on global warming. I spent most of the day with Al, Craig Allen from CBS and Irv "Mr. G." Gikofsky of WPIX.

There are a few things from that day that really stand out. Two had to do with Al.

On that day, he had a digital camera - the first I had ever seen in person.

Each of us also had an audience with the president, Bill Clinton. The president stopped Al and told him how he had watched him do the weather from the White House lawn that morning. And then, the most powerful man in the world proceeded to engage Al in a few seconds of small talk. Not bad. I was impressed.

The other major remembrance of that day has to do with Irv Gikofsky. He's been on New York City TV for at least 20 years, always as "Mr. G." He was with us in line as we approached the president.

The way it works is, you fill out a card with your name, it is handed to a Marine guard, and then as you approach the president, you are announced.

So, it was, "Mr. President, Craig Allen." And Craig approached the president. "Mr. President, Al Roker," and Al went forward. "Mr. President, Geoff Fox," and I was on my way to shake his hand and say something totally insipid.

Finally, it was Irv's turn. The Marine guard lifted the card to read it and said, "Mr. President, Mr. G."

I wanted to hide under the furniture.

I specifically set out to find this photo? Does anything strike you as unusual?

How is it possible that none of these grown ups wears glasses?

I remember my eye doctor telling me that at age 40, nearly every adult needs reading glasses. Many others need lenses for distance vision.

I think we're looking at a clear case of vanity trumping the natural aging process. I'm not saying that no one's not wearing contacts, for instance... just that no glasses in this crowd is more statement than chance.

I have written, probably too much, about winter weather and the problems forecasting it. It is my job to predict the future. I accept a salary to do it. I take responsibility for my forecasts.

If I am wrong, I get called on it - and I accept that. It is absolutely fair to do that, since I claim to be able to predict the future.

Sometimes, my forecasts are 'fighting the tide'. I'm trying to get my opinions out, yet I'm being drowned out by other, divergent forecasts. I think that's what's going to happen tonight.

There's a Winter Storm Watch for all of Connecticut, except the immediate coast. That means 6" or more of snow is expected. But, I don't think it's as simple as that. And, I don't think 6" will fall.

Because of the track, I think we will see snow, but it will be followed by sleet (possibly freezing rain) and then plain old rain on Monday. As soon as snow turns to sleet, freezing rain or rain, the accumulations are held down. And, once temperatures go above freezing on Monday, and rain continues to fall, much of the snow will washed away.

I'm not saying it's going to be pleasant outside - because it won't. But, right now my opinion is outside the norm and it will take some effort to make sure it's heard.

By the way - should I be wrong on Sunday, I will leave this post up. Making bad forecasts painful is a great motivator to be right!

About a week ago, in quick succession, I won 2 - $11 Sit and Go poker tournaments at pokerstars.com. I was feeling good. What a sap! Too much confidence is a bad thing.

I haven't played all that much, but I haven't won at all this week! Not once. As of this morning, our stake is below $100 - down $150 from where we started in August. Helaine has played too, but the bleeding is coming from me.

Any time you play a game of skill and luck, luck will win out from time-to-time. You go in with two high cards, catch two pair on the flop and still lose to some schmo who stayed and played 10-2 off suit and hit a flush on the river with the 2!

It happens. Even though I was beaten by a 10-2 off suit, I still want everyone with a 10-2 to play as much as they want. Over time it's a loser.

Not all of my losses can be contributed to luck. I sense I have started to 'slow play' good hands a little too much - hoping to get more in the pot. The downside to slow play is often you give your opponent enough time to make a hand and beat you.

And I have let myself go into hands I shouldn't have. My brain knows when in doubt, fold. My fingers don't always follow. The value of discipline in poker is underrated.

These little, single table, tournaments aren't won by winning as much as they're won by not losing.

The online casino I play poker at is loaded with tournaments. Usually I play one table affairs where the last three standing cash out. But, that's not the only way they're dealt.

Every day, there are open tournaments. Pluck down the entry fee and you're in! Some are free - with a cash prize. Others are satellites, qualifying you to play in more expensive tournaments without paying any more money. When it comes to these massive tournaments, I never look above the $1 or $3 level. It's just a way to kill time.

Tonight, I entered a $1 tournament along with 1167 others. Someone was going to go home with over $250 on a $1 bet. Most would get nothing.

The game was Hold'em, no limit. Each player gets $1,500 in chips and plays from there.

I set my computer up with the tournament table over the 'lobby'. I positioned the screen in such a way that I could watch the countdown as players started getting knocked off.

For the first few minutes it was slow. The first out in these tournaments is usually on the first hand... and usually someone who will later say, "Bad cards don't kill you. It's good cards that will do you in." My guess is, a lot of players retiring early are doing so with a pair of aces that didn't hold.

I watched the numbers ratchet through 1,000 and then 900 and 800. I was playing well but always below the middle of the pack moneywise.

The ante rose every fifteen minutes and there'd be a spurt of players tapped out. "Conservative," I kept saying to myself. Not losing is more important than winning.

By the time we got down to 250 players, I was looking at what the tournament paid. Yes, the winner gets paid well, but it's like falling off a cliff after that. By the time you're at number 10, you're down to $10.52.

I didn't care. I wanted to make money. How much wasn't important.

The numbers continued down. 200, 150, 130, 120. I looked at my stack. I had enough to break 99, where the payouts started, if I just sat and folded. I wasn't getting anything to play anyway.

110, 109, 108, 107... the numbers were moving slower. No one wanted to be the last out before getting something. 106, 105, 104, 103. It struck me that I'd have to do something stupid at this point to get blown out.

102, 101, 100, 99, EUREKA!

A text message flashed on the table. At this point, all the tables would be synchronized. We'd play hand for hand. God forbid someone would play s-l-o-w-l-y and make an extra few cents.

There were prize breaks at 81 and 61. I blew by both and had nearly $30,000 in chips. And then, it happened.

I went in with a good hand and met up with a spectacular one. I lost, all-in, to a pair of Aces.

After playing 3:15, I finished 50th!

I had outlasted 1118 others and had won... this is going to sound so stupid... I won the grand total of.... hold on, here's the email:

I have no clue what 53.02 tournament points gets me. You can be sure, however, it's not as good as that $1.92 net profit! Ah, the sweet smell of filthy lucre.

After writing about Sunday's weather on Friday, I have been back to recheck my sources dozens of times. Everyone continues to yell "SNOW" at the top of their lungs. Based on the methods that have served me well over the past few years, I continue to think the changeover will happen before the big snow amounts are on the ground.

How long will it stay snow before mixed precipitation and rain take over? That's the $64,000 question!

Of course, it can stay all snow... in which case I'll stay as well hidden as I can.

The snow is coming down. If it's going to change to a liquid form, it's certainly taking its sweet time. My thermometer reads 24.6º.

Down to our south, at La Guardia Airport in NYC, the temperature has risen 4º in two hours; at Kennedy Airport 5º over the same period. At Kennedy, the snow has turned to rain.

I would guess we have 4-5" on the ground already. Though currently in a lull, there's more where this came from!

With all this in mind, two photos from today. The first was taken out my front door, looking across the street at a neighbor's house, beautifully decorated for Christmas. The second, taken by my friend Peter Mokover (who somehow manages 5 weeks every winter in Hawaii) is of the Home Depot on Maui.

Where would I rather be? You make the call!

I am so jealous of Peter and Elisa, in Hawaii. Even so, I am posting some of Peter's photos to a gallery of his own, on this site, so that eating my heart out will only be a click away.

At 4:45PM, as I was typing a now erased entry to this blog, the power went off. Interestingly, and I've noticed this over time, the outage didn't happen in an instant as happens when you flip a switch. The power flickered and fluttered and - poof - it was gone.

So, with the snow flying, and outside temperatures in the 20's, we were plunged into darkness.

The first thing I noticed was our alarm system showed a fault. Since the alarm has battery backup, I just reset it and it was fine. Second, an older cordless phone in our spare bedroom started chirping every 20-30 seconds. It was complaining that it could no longer hear its base station. I'm sure this was a great idea when it was designed into the phone, but it's a royal pain whenever the power goes out.

Helaine had been online, playing poker. Judging by the fact that I haven't received any email, her hand must have been folded and folded and folded and she finally 'blinded out.'

Steffie started rounding up candles. By the time she was done, there were nine of them, sitting on the coffee table, providing enough light to study by. In the photo on the left, the little post-it note sign says, "Festival of Lights."

I called the power company and listened to their recorded message. There had been another, earlier outage, in the area around my house. Dispatching crews was treacherous in this weather. After being on hold for over 15 minutes, a new message was added, acknowledging the new problem that included my house. I hung up the phone.

Upstairs, I found an old Sony Watchman battery operated TV. The batteries still had a full charge, though I can't remember the last time it was used.

This is the kind of thing authorities tell you you're supposed to have in just this situation so you can receive emergency information. Helaine used it to watch the Cowboys and Redskins.

The reception was awful After a while she gave up on watching and listened instead.

Our heating system is based on hot water bringing warmth to air handlers in the basement and attic. In a situation like this, I worry about the system freezing and the pipes bursting. Luckily, we were back in business with the power on in around an hour.

It's possible I'll hear what caused the outage tomorrow. Judging by the weather, car vs. pole is always the most likely scenario.

I'm not going to lie. There were times this weekend when I thought my forecast was a bust. I heard big numbers from a ferocious storm. Where did I go wrong?

As it turns out, I didn't. As always, this wasn't a bullseye, but it wasn't all that bad. Read what I was expecting from Friday and then, see what we got.

It was colder than I expected, so the precipitation stayed snow longer. The changeover did hold the accumulations down and kept almost everyone under 6"¹, which is the normal threshold for Winter Storm Warning. Click here to see a chart of snowfall amounts from the Connecticut DOT.

Right now, nearly all of Connecticut is at or above freezing.

We are one day closer to March. I couldn't be happier.

¹ - This is the second storm in a row where Meriden has had significantly more accumulation than surrounding areas. One more and it becomes untrustworthy to me.

² - The automatic sensors at Waterbury/Oxford Airport haven't worked properly in years. This reading should report precipitation, but doesn't.

Last night was Monday Night Football and the Eagles versus Miami, in Miami. Helaine is actually the bigger football fan in the family, but we're both Eagles fans. Years ago, I was a season ticket holder - a distinction I wear as some sort of badge of honor. I sat through an Eagles 4-10 season!

I think we're both a little worried, because the Eagles have played so well. As an Eagles fan, and I'm sure this applies to most teams, you're always waiting for that boneheaded move that squanders it all. Yet, that hasn't happened.

The Eagles started the season losers. Donovan McNabb, the quarterback, was ineffective as a passer and non existent as a rusher. And then, the team jelled. All of a sudden, they could do no wrong.

Tonight's victory against the Dolphins is sweet, but I'll swear we're being set up for disappointment somewhere farther down the road. That's the Eagles fan in me talking.

Here's the problem - you're hungry but you don't want to do any cleaning. There's some fresh, cut fruit in a bowl... but not much. So, you eat all of it, save two little pieces, and put it back in the refrigerator.

You've gotten the fruit and the bowl isn't ready to be cleaned, yet. That will fall to the sucker who eats the two little pieces.

Interestingly, Helaine asked I post this. Mission accomplished.

This is the (hopefully) last in a series of entries about my cell service. If you'd rather read the whole series from the beginning, click here.

Hold your calls, we've got a winner... or more succinctly, we've eliminated most of the losers. I re-signed yesterday with Cingular for National GSM service.

A couple of notes and observations are in order. This took an unbelievably long time. I'm not talking about yesterday at the store - which did take forever - but my decision making process. The cellular carriers make this maddeningly difficult.

First and foremost, you have to read each and every thing that you're being offered and not offered. The cell companies know what they're offering (well, sort of) but most of us don't. While I was in the cell phone store yesterday, I watched customer after customer move up to the desk, like lambs to the slaughter. The salespeople offered and sold plans and conditions that weren't understood by the customers. And, the customers, with little choice, signed on without much thought.

In my case, this is a $2,000 commitment - 2 years of service for the three of us - and I wanted to be sure everything was acceptable... or as acceptable as possible.

Most customers don't know the difference between GSM or TDMA or CDMA, but these distinctions can be very important in deciding what you're getting. The companies offer beautifully named national or regional networks, and then never disclose what these networks are... or are not. The maps I've seen continue to paint a nearly seamless blanket of coverage, which isn't true.

The company that actually runs the Cingular store needs to reconsider the paper flow through the store. Forms had to be filled out by hand and multiple phone calls made to get my account set up. It's 2003 - these forms should be computer generated and authorizations automated. I was in the store for nearly 2 hours. Some people, who waited in line while I was being taking care of, left.

As I wrote earlier, when a plan says no roaming fees, that still doesn't mean you can use any signal your phone can hear. It used to be, if you were out of range of your plan, your phone would latch on to whatever it heard, and you'd pay for that privilege. But "no roaming" doesn't necessarily mean that call is now free. It often means that call can no longer be made!

The best example is here at home. My phone shows a very, very strong signal (probably from T-Mobile or AT&T). If I try to make a call, the phone says "Emergency Only" and spits me back to the main menu.

As far as I can tell, I now have a comparable number of minutes, nights beginning at 7:00 PM, some sort of national coverage (though still no coverage here at home) and three new phones for a little less than I was paying. And, I extracted 3 free months of service, 2 of the 3 phones, and a waiver of the activation charge by getting on the phone with the Cingular company agent (thanks Kendrick Alexander) and asking for it (the folks in the Cingular store don't really work for Cingular).

Helaine and I got LG G4010 phones. They are incredibly small with a stubby, fixed antenna. I have been pouring through the manual, looking for a way to use my company's voicemail with this phone. That means adding a pause during the dialing sequence. As far as I can tell, you can't do it. If that's true, this would be the first cell phone I've ever seen that can't perform this function.

If the manual wasn't translated from some other language into English, the person who did write it should be ashamed. It is disorganized and confusing.

Steffie got a much fancier Samsung S307. It has a color display and more toys. I was proud because she wanted it and was willing to part with her own (hard earned) money to get it.

There was another company I had considered going with. Oh heck - it was Sprint. I didn't go because of what I considered the very high cost of the phones and higher cost for monthly service. But really, the clincher was their move a few years ago (quickly rescinded) to charge for calls to customer service! To me, that showed a corporate culture that didn't value the end user the way I want to be valued.

I would be 100% happy with Cingular but for one small problem. There's no service here at home. Judging by the folks at their store, Cingular thinks it has coverage here. They recently put a cell site at Quinnipiac College, less than 2 miles away. But, it is blocked to me, and most of my neighbors because of Sleeping Giant Mountain. If they would have moved the site off campus, they could have killed two birds with one stone - putting coverage on campus and into this area and I'd be really smiling.

I just wrote LG, manufacturer of my phone (and its manual) concerning an operational question I had. Here's the response:

Dear Customer ,

Welcome to LGE.com


Your message has been sent to the LG Electronics Mail Desk.

Question Mail Id : Q_1071687715835

Don't forget it. This question mail id can be available for your question mail history


Good Luck !!
--2009636.1071687715892.JavaMail.tmax.LGEB2C-SE1Q--

The whole manual problem is coming into clearer focus now.

Today is the 100th anniversary of the birth of flight - the day when the Wright Brothers little plane flew the dunes at Kill Devil Hills in Kitty Hawk, NC.

I know there were some ceremonies, and the new Smithsonian air museum's opening was meant to coincide, but I am personally disappointed that more wasn't done to celebrate this triumph. This has to be on the short list of most important inventions of the 20th century.

My parents tell the story of how, for their honeymoon, they drove to California. My mom says they felt, "When would we ever have the opportunity to go again?" Today, it's simple to pick up and fly nearly anywhere... and we do. I've gone to California from Connecticut to attend a birthday party and once flew in Saturday morning and out Sunday morning, allowing me to only miss one night in my bed at home.

For people, airplane travel has drastically changed over the last 20 years - since PEOPLExpress. It used to be, you'd get dressed up for the upscale experience of flying. Now, you're just a cog in the air transport machine. Though airfares are cheaper, I'd love to see a comparison of travel times, which have to be longer thanks to the hub and spoke system.

Over the past century, the cost of air transport for goods has also gone down. So now it's possible to have fresh fruit year round in the Northeast, or get parts shipped to a factory overnight to keep production running. One word: FedEx.

Much of aviation's growth stems from our government's sales of surplus aircraft after WWII. I believe that no longer happens, and it's a shame. The military destroys too much that still has value. Is there even a military surplus market anymore?

Wilbur and Orville were quiet men. The first flight wasn't a 'press event,' though a telegram home to Dayton asked the family to alert the press to what they'd done. The Wright Flyer, as designed, was almost impossible to fly with any stability. It's a wonder they got into the air at all (though gusty northerly winds didn't hurt) much less lived to talk about it.

Today of all days, I just wish we'd celebrate them a little more.

I sent my message yesterday concerning the cell phone's operation. So far, no answer. Maybe this will be fun to follow:

What's the over/under on days to get a response? They get special dispensation since LG is halfway around the world... but not much dispensation.

Right before I go to bed, after I turn the lights off in my office, I look back into the darkened room - only to see what looks like a miniature airport. Everywhere you look there are tiny lights. Some are steady. Some blink. Some used to be steady but now blink or quiver with age.

Why are they all there? Why does every new piece of electronic equipment seem to need a light?

Most are dumb. They're saying, "Hey, I'm plugged in" and nothing more. Some, like the light connected to the charging circuit on my camcorder, blink according to how close to fully charged the battery is.

My cable modem has five lights. One, the test light, is never on. I don't know how to test the test light. It might be burned out. How would I know? Three others, Power, Cable and PC, remain lit 'round the clock. The data light blinks incessantly as computers from around the world attempt to connect to my computers.

That's not a good thing.

The blinking data light is chronicling the computer equivalent of walking down the block, stopping at every door and jiggling the doorknob to see if it's unlocked.

The router between my cable modem and computer acts as a defacto firewall, keeping the miscreants out, so this blinking doesn't mean someone's hurting me. Still, I know what some of them are trying to accomplish by looking in the log the router keeps.

It used to take a few days to fill the log. Now, it's full in a few hours. Here's a sample:

What does it all mean? Let's take the first entry.
Thursday, December 18, 2003 8:19:35 PM Unrecognized access from 68.163.201.167:3102 to TCP port 17300

It comes from:

Honda Pen Motorcycles
268 Bush St #5000
San Francisco, CA, 94104
US

I have no idea who Honda Pen Motorcycles is, but they're assigned 8 Internet addresses, including 68.163.201.167. The addresses are, in turn, controlled by a subsidiary of their local phone company:

Pac Bell Internet Services
208 Bush St. #5000
San Ramon, CA, 94104
US

When Honda Pen Motorcycles' computer tried to contact mine, they're probing port 17300. That implies that one of the computers at Honda Pen Motorcycles is infected with the Kuang2 virus. In all likelihood, it's wandering around the Internet, checking for other infected machines, or machines susceptible to being infected. The folks at the Honda dealership have no clue this is going on, or if they do, don't know how to stop it.

Thanks guys!

Most of the activity causing my data light to blink doesn't even show up in the log. Little of it is data I asked for. Less is there for my benefit.

There are dozens of little lights in this room. Some, like the blinking light on my desk phone, I disregard. In fact, I disregard most of them. They're mostly telling me that appliances without on/off switches are plugged in.

All of these together probably don't draw as much power as a night light. Still, in the aggregate, all these little lights in homes and offices are causing power plants to burn a little more coal or oil.

However, in their defense, my darkened room look very high tech.

Though Ivy is gone, I stare at her every day. She is on my computer desktop, 1280 by 1024 pixels of her, laying in bed, nose flush on the mattress.

I think of Ivy all the time. Often it's a subconscious connection between what I'm doing and how Ivy would react. Sometimes it's just my reaction to seeing her appear on the monitor as programs close while the computer shuts down.

This time of year, I would often bring Ivy to the TV station. She was a good sport, letting me put antlers or a Santa hat on her head. She would lay down on the anchor desk as I walked off to the weather wall. She was happy. She had no place to go. When I would return, Ivy was right where I left her.

Christmas Night 2002, while on camera finishing the forecast, Ivy decided it was time to lay down. It was so funny to see on live TV. She was oblivious to what was going on around her... or maybe above it all. It was her understated elegance that made her the center of attention.

A dog like Ivy - reserved in nearly every way, was never outwardly affectionate. This wasn't a dog who'd meet you at the door and lick you to death. Still, there was no mistaking Ivy's affection toward our family.

If there was a squabble, Ivy would go away, climbing the stairs then jumping up on our bed and making herself comfortable. She was a non confrontational dog.

People still ask me about Ivy all the time. I don't like to tell them she's passed away, and often I don't. They always marvel at her composure and ask what kind of dog 'he is.' I tell them that Ivy was unlike most other Westies in her demeanor.

There are few photos that capture the essence of someone as well as the picture with this entry captures Ivy. She is calm... She is alert... She is at ease... She is where she wants to be.

She will always be with us. We will never stop missing her.

I am not really in television - it's more radio with pictures. Radio was always my first love. As a kid, I knew I'd go into radio (and I did). TV was an afterthought. Other than the actual skill of forecasting the weather, there's nothing I do on TV that I didn't do on radio first.

This is going to make me sound old.

I went to high school in the same building that housed the New York City Board of Education's radio station. We were FM back when no one listened to FM. That was mainly because no one owned an FM radio!

WNYE-FM had an eclectic mix of educational programs. It's tough to visualize today, but teachers in NYC would bring clunky Granco FM radios into their classrooms so the students could listen to, "Let's Look at the News" or "Young Heroes." There's little in the way of TV today that's equivalent.

Looking for a way to get out of conventional English classes, I became a radio actor for English class credit. I was cast in dozens and dozens of morality plays and historical recreations. I was young Orville Wright, Thomas Jefferson, Jackie Robinson (in that less politically correct time) and lots of kids named Billy.

In the morality plays, I often had lines like, "If I ride my bike over the hill, mom will never know." By the second act, my arm was in a cast and I was sorry. In these shows, no transgression went unpunished.

All through high school, I listened to radio - listening to the disk jockeys more than the music. The disk jockeys were cool and hip and in control. They talked back to the boss with impunity, or so it seemed to me. They were quick and witty and sarcastic. I wanted to be a disk jockey.

Though I grew up in New York City, my favorite radio station was WKBW in Buffalo. You could only hear "KB" from dusk 'til dawn, but it boomed in like a local at our apartment in Queens.

The nighttime jocks on "KB" were unbelievable. Over time, there were Joey Reynolds, Bud Ballou, Jack Armstrong and others. KB Pulse Beat news with Irv Weinstein, who I'd later know personally, was a tabloid newscast, back when rock stations had to have newscasts.

This is not to say I didn't listen to WABC in NYC, because I did. There's little doubt that Dan Ingram is the best disk jockey to ever point a finger at a board operator. He was all the things that the "KB" guys were, but he operated within the more heavily produced WABC universe. At WABC there was a jingle for everything except going to the bathroom... and maybe there was a jingle for that too.

Back on track... must get back on track... where is this going?

In college, I knew I wanted to be like them. I wasn't as cool as they were. I certainly didn't have 'pipes' (the euphemism for a deep, throaty voice). Still, I wanted to be on the air.

At home, or in the car, I'd practice 'talking up records.' That means talking over the instrumental bridge that opens songs before the singing begins, and stopping on a dime, effortlessly, as the singing began. That's called "hitting vocal," and I was very good at that.

I started in radio at WSAR in Fall River, MA. I was part time, making $2.50 an hour. Before long, the company I was working for, Knight Quality Stations (some of which weren't on at night, and none of which had quality), sent me to Florida to be program director at WMUM, aka - "Mother." I was still making $2.50 an hour or $130 for a 6 day, 48 hour week.

WMUM was an "underground station." Again, it's a concept tough to understand today. We played everything without resorting to a playlist. It was some sort of misguided Utopian programming concept that never really took hold anywhere for long. But in 1969, at age 19, "Mother" was an unreal place to be.

We were hip and cool and broadcast from a building located adjacent to the parking lot for Lake Worth, Florida's beach. From our studio, through the soundproof glass, you could watch the sun rise over the Atlantic Ocean. The beach was always filled with girls in bathing suits.

"Mother" didn't hold its allure for long. Within 18 months, I had moved on to our sister AM station and then two other stations in the West Palm Beach market.

At age 21, I went to Charlotte, NC. There I did nights on a station that truly was heard from Canada to Florida. During my tenure, we even got mail from Cuba and Scandinavia. WBT was a classic radio station with good facilities, excellent promotion and nurturing management. I didn't know how good I had it until I left.

I became a radio gypsy, moving to Cleveland and Phoenix and finally Philadelphia. I moved enough to qualify for the U-Haul Gold Card. I worked nights at WPEN in Philadelphia for a few years before moving to mornings.

We were a good AM station, playing oldies, at about the time music on AM was dying... rapidly.

I think I was pretty good at WPEN. If you'll remember that this aircheck is over 25 years old, and I was more than 25 years younger than I am now, you can listen to it by clicking here. I really enjoyed what I was doing.

After a while we could see things weren't going well in the ratings. A new program director was brought in to change things. Brandon Brooks, my friend and newsman on the show, came to me. Things were going to change but, "Don't worry Geoff. They can't fire you."

I was gone within two hours.

My radio career never got back to that place. I continued to work, but it wasn't the same. I finally ended up at WIFI, a top-40 FM station where I constantly worried that I, personally, was leading to the degradation of youth and society.

The scene played over and over again as I answered the hitline. I'd say, "Hello, WIFI." On the other end, a young voice would respond, "Play, 'We Don't Need No Education.'" To me, it was like screeching chalk on a blackboard.

WIFI was my last stop before getting into TV. Still I miss radio nearly each and every day.

This is not to say I want to leave TV. I don't. But, I do have this fantasy where I do radio in the morning and TV in the evening. That's why, whenever someone from radio calls and asks me to fill-in or come on the air, I jump at the chance. It's really an involuntary response.

It's still in my blood.

The reason I'm writing all of this is because of someone I saw today at a charity event. I was helping present a check and toys to support shelters for abused women at the Verizon Wireless store in North Haven. A man walked up to me and said hello. It was Pete Salant.

I know Pete, though not that well. My sense is, Pete could go one-on-one with me with any bit of radio minutiae. It runs through his blood as well. In fact, with him broadcasting is an inbred thing, as his dad¹ was a giant when CBS was the "Tiffany Network."

Pete was known mostly as a radio programmer - and a damned good one. It's probable, though I really don't remember anymore, that within Pete's career, he turned me down for a job... maybe more than once. I know he ran places where I wanted to work. Today, he creates commercials for radio station that run on TV.

It was good to see him. It's always good to think about radio.

¹ Pete tells me it was actually his cousin... and not a very close one... who was with CBS: "Dick Salant was my cousin twice-removed (grandfather's first cousin), not my dad." I'm going to leave the original posting as is, because I want to try and keep this blog as a contemporaneous record, but add the correction here.

This past summer, after staring at a CRT monitor ratcheted up to its maximum resolution, I bought a brand new Pixo AT700S monitor. My thought was, an LCD monitor would have a sharper look, use less power, and make me much cooler. Plus, the 17" CRT at 1280x1024 was blinding me.

You may be wondering, why a Pixo? After all, Pixo isn't the first (or fourteenth) name that comes off your tongue when thinking of monitors. My thought was, since I was going 'digital', a pixel is a pixel, so all monitors should be equal.

What a dumb thing to think. It's absolutely wrong, of course.

First, an LCD monitor, though producing a specific number of discrete pixels, starts its life by translating your computer's analog video output to digital. Anything lost in that translation is gone - never to be found again.

Also, even in the 21st Century, monitors are loaded with components. Each of these components has to stay within its design specifications if the monitor is to perform properly.

Right away, I could see that wouldn't be the case with the Pixo. I'd use a test generator and align the monitor only to come back the next day and find the alignment point had moved.

Then, one day, after a few months of use, the monitor sent a large puff of white smoke skyward. It was as if it had elected a pope. In the room, and later the entire house, I could smell the telltale odor of a capacitor that had fried.

I brought the monitor back to Staples, where they gladly gave me another Pixo.

No problem. Back on my desk, looking good, until a few nights ago.

I was working on the laptop at the time, so the LCD monitor for the main computer only caught the corner of my eye. I wasn't sure what it was at first, but I turned to see it brighten... and then dim... and the brighten again.

There are many things electronic components do very well. Healing isn't one of them. I unplugged the monitor from my KVM (Keyboard, video, monitor) switch to see if it was the culprit. No change.

The problem came and went over the next few days. This morning, I had had enough. I was on my way to Cheshire to drop off Christmas gifts and figured I'd stop in at the Staples in Wallingford.

Long story short, the electronics guy at Staples didn't seem surprised by the fate of my Pixo. He didn't have any more, but he personally used an Envision (a name I'd actually heard before) and offered one to me at $60 more than I had originally paid.

I really didn't want to buy a more expensive monitor, but I knew the Pixo was wrong for me. So, now on my desk is a lovely Envision EN-7100si.

The video is very sharp, though I'm not very impressed with the contrast. That, however, could be a driver or software problem, so I'll hold judgment.

I see people using LCD screens all the time. They are quite cool and should look better than a CRT but only if they operate at their native resolution. 15" monitors want to be at 1024x768. 17" monitors need to have 1280x1024 resolution. If you're not doing that (and most people seem not to) then the monitor is going to be smudgy, with dark grays where there should be black.

Oh - the Dell keyboard in the photo. I never thought a keyboard made much difference either. How many times can I be wrong in one entry?

The Homeland Securty Advisory System has just gone from "elevated" to "high."

With all due respect to the Department of Homeland Security, the whole color coded warning system is ridiculous. Not because it might not predict the future, but because it answers the wrong question.

I don't want to know that something might happen. I just want nothing to happen. That's the purpose of these governmental agencies. Anything else is CYA posturing.

With governmental programs, though it's not limited to governmental programs, we often see policies that confuse process with results. It was that adherence to process that allowed airport security checks to become worthless, while still following the rules.

Haven't we learned anything?

One more thing. Is there anyone, anywhere, who anticipates the warning level ever going down to "green", for low risk of attack?

We're under a High Alert from the Department of Homeland Security. Hopefully, police and security agencies know what to do, but for us mere mortals there are few clues.

The official word is, "Go about your business." Great. It's like being told not to think about an elephant in pajamas. What else could you possibly think of after that?

If you boil this alert down to its essence, the only effect it's having on the general public is to scare us. If we're not supposed to do anything different, what other benefit is there?

Meanwhile, Steffie had reservations to fly to Florida and visit my folks. This was going to be our first experience with Southwest, after switching my frequent flier allegiance to them a few months ago.

Helaine and I never talked about it, but there was no point when we considered changing Steffie's plans. I feel confident in the safety of air travel. Beyond that, it would seem a Southwest 737 from Hartford to West Palm Beach via Tampa would be a very unlikely target.

Speaking of Southwest, the report back from the airport was mostly positive. Helaine and Steffie got there early so Steffie could be in "Group A" under Southwest's non-reserved seating policy. Depending on when you check in, you're assigned A, B or C. A's board first and have their choice of seats and overhead storage.

There had been a time when National Guardsmen inspected cars on their way to the parking garage at Bradley Airport. Not so today when you'd expect it.

Southwest is in the new terminal at Bradley and Helaine reports it's bigtime. Southwest allows three bags at 70 pounds apiece, so Steffie was easily accommodated. Helaine asked for, and was quickly issued, a gate pass, so she could stay with Steffie while she waited to board. We were expecting good, friendly service from Southwest and weren't disappointed.

Once onboard, in row 7, Steffie called Helaine to let her know things were fine. The next call came after arriving in Tampa. All I got was a reply to my cellphone text message. Without going into the entire message, I'm a loser.

It's OK. It was said with love. I think.

Steffie's flight made it on time. Now, she gets a full week of being spoiled (and listening to A&E at stun level volume) with my folks.

The house will be eerily quiet, and though Steffie and I are often at odds, I will miss her.

I got the call, again, today. Jim Vicevich is away for a few days, and I've been asked to fill in on WTIC on Friday, the day after Christmas.

If you remember, last time I was scheduled to fill-in, about 1/2" of snow brought the state to a standstill! This time, the forecast is much more docile, with sunny skies and (for late December) relatively mild temperatures.

The show is phone oriented. I'm not sure what we'll do, though I'd like to talk about Christmas gifts - what people got, didn't get or were astounded by.

I had to work later than normal tonight. We've just installed a new computer graphics system. It needed a little last minute tweaking... what is sure to be the norm for a few weeks, at least.

Darlene Love was scheduled to be on David Letterman tonight. Though I finished my work before she was on, I waited until Darlene sang so I could hear "Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)."

This was her 19th trip to the Letterman show - or so said Dave. "Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)" is certainly the best Christmas song ever written by a Jewish guy under a murder indictment (Phil Spector). Even up against "White Christmas" (Irving Berlin), it might be the best Christmas song written by a Jewish guy, period.

The hell with it. It's just the best Christmas song and Darlene Love is unbelievable singing it. It has become a tradition for Letterman to bring in a full string section and large gospel choir... and she was born to sing this song.

I'm glad that I can appreciate Christmas songs. There was a time I couldn't - when I was totally divorced from Christmas. Being Jewish, it's not my holiday, but I have come to embrace the secular aspects of Christmas and the general warmth and good feeling that goes around.

Growing up Jewish, around Christmas, is very difficult for a kid. It is a holiday with exceptionally powerful images. Families get together. Houses get beautifully decorated. You get presents.

As a kid, I remember Christmas Day being very isolating. Nothing was open, not even gas stations (as my father found out 40 some years ago). All the 'good' shows were off TV, replaced by religious or holiday oriented programs. Of course you couldn't go to friend's houses or have them over either. We were circumspect on December 25th, trying to fade in with the woodwork.

It wasn't until "Animal House" (1978) that I realized a good Jewish Christmas included Chinese food and a movie.

I'm not sure when I began to embrace the Christmas spirit, but I do remember always volunteering to work. Once, in radio, I pulled an 8 hour shift (radio shifts are like dog years in that they are multiplied by a constant before they're comparable to real life) so others could spend the day with their families. By my rough count, I've worked 34 of the last 35 Christmases and will work again tomorrow.

The New York times did an article Monday about the unwritten pact that brings Jews to work on Christmas, and has gentile's covering for us on the High Holy Days. Thursday, our newscasts will be produced, anchored, directed and primarily staffed by Jewish people.

It wasn't always this way, but today I love the lights and the decorations. I like to see the tree at neighbor's houses. I love egg nogg, though I had never tasted any until I was well into my twenties. I once sat slackjawed as I watched Andy Williams sing "Sleighride" and realized just how good he/it was.

Even more, I love the thought of people traveling so they can be close to their relatives and parents. Marianne, a waitress at the little luncheonette next to the station, is flying to Chicago where she'll meet her granddaughter for the first time. What could be more Christmas than that?

There's a line, somewhere, that defines how far I will go in celebrating Christmas. Steffie has always wanted a Christmas tree. That's over the line, though I understand why she wants it.

It used to be, I'd shy away from saying Merry Christmas. I don't any more. I hope you have a Merry Christmas. Personally, I'm going to enjoy working so others can have one.

However, if you're not celebrating, I'll see you at the Chinese restaurant.

The past few weeks have been spent getting ready to use some new equipment at work. Our very dependable, SGI based, Liveline Genesis system has been replaced by Weather Central's :Live.

Actually, replaced is not a good word, because :Live is really an add-on which extends the system. We're still producing some graphics in Genesis but it now it doesn't go on-the-air.

The SGI system we were using has to be at least 10 years old. These systems run slow by today's standards. Our hard drive was only 4 GB! From time-to-time I had to go in an mercilessly blow out perfectly fine work created by the other guys in the weather department because we just didn't have enough room.

Computers and homes are very similar in that you can never have too much closet space. And, of course, the hard disk is the closet of computing.

The problems with the SGI system were legion. It never handled the look of fonts correctly. Its interface, developed in he dark ages of computing, was anti-intuitive and often different in different parts of the system. It took long amounts of time to render animated segments, like a satellite loop or fly through, before they could be shown on TV.

On the other hand, it was nearly bulletproof. The system hardly ever crashed or locked up.

Because the SGI system was based on the Irix operating system, from time-to-time you'd have to delve into the **ix environment to attack a problem. It is a bit scary to do, because it is so foreign to most computer users. Over the years, as I have become more conversant in Linux, another **ix language, Irix has become more understandable.

Every time I have a problem, and work with one of Weather Central's tech support people, I wonder how they do this with computerphobes? Often we can skip the first 5 or 6 steps. Imagine trying to describe this obtuse text oriented operating system over the phone!

The new :Live system allows us to show animations with no rendering time (though files still have to load from the hard drive to memory, which does take some time). It also integrates multiple layers of animation and still images, which makes it much more flexible. The most interesting part is the ability to stand in front of my green chroma key wall and use my finger as a mouse, drawing or placing objects on the TV screen in real time (or :Live, I suppose).

Right out of the box, it looked much sharper, cleaner and modern than what we had been doing. Simple things, like forecast pages, now run with animated backgrounds. Maps and icons look crisp. The satellite imagery is a little blockier and pixelated than what we were using, especially when viewed at a regional or tighter level.

Because the commands to create each graphic element are programmed in quasi plain text, I have started to write some new 'scenes' to suit our needs.

The downside is, this is a Windows based system - Windows 2000 to be exact. It has crashed more than once. So far, not while on-the-air, but awfully close. It also seems to have memory leak problems, not a surprise in a Windows environment. That means, if you run a sequence through, to check it out, you may be pushing the car closer to the edge of the cliff with each mouse click.

I already see some changes I'd like added to the system, which is probably a blessing and curse to those who designed it. I will help them make it better, but probably at the cost of being a pain in the ass.

At the same time we added :Live, we've also begun running our own, locally produced, high resolution, computer forecast model. I'll get into that later.

As previously established, this being Christmas, and especially with Steffie in Florida visiting my folks, Helaine and I went to the movies. The chosen flick was "Something's Gotta Give" starring Jack Nicholson and Diane Keaton, with Keanu Reeves and Amanda Peet.

Let me start by saying the title doesn't seem to fit. Every time I've gone to tell someone I saw the movie, and even as I began to type this entry, I couldn't remember it!

Jack Nicholson is playing himself (or at least the guy he plays when it seems like he's playing himself) again. Hey, that's a good thing. It's a character I enjoy seeing. Nicholson is larger than life. In fact, most of what I read about him is more interesting than most of the characters in movies.

His love interest was played by Diane Keaton. I remember her breakout role as Annie Hall. I would have never predicted her career would go where it's gone and that she would be as good as she's gotten. Again, this is an enjoyable performance by an actress I've grown comfortable with.

Both she and Nicholson are effortless in their roles and with each other.

In the movie, Nicholson is a guy who can't commit. Unlike most guys in their 60's, Nicholson is dating and bedding women young enough to be his daughter... from a second or third marriage. He meets Diane Keaton while dating her daughter.

I found the story poignant and the characters likable and real. There were times when the dialog seemed ad libbed between the two principals. If it wasn't, that's a major tribute to the writing. If it was, it's a credit to the director for letting these pros expand on the material. Hold on - it's the same person - Nancy Meyers.

It is difficult to imagine anyone else playing Nicholson's role, but Nicholson. Helaine commented and I agree, that the part was most likely written for him or with him in mind.

I come from a family where we often cry at commercials. So, it's not a major thing to say I cried, a little. The movie was poignant. The emotions were warm. The ending was sweet.

During the movie, I felt the urge to hold my wife's hand and tell her of my affection. I suppose that makes it a 'chick flick.'

Of course, it was followed by Chinese food.

My friend Peter, vacationing in Hawaii, has been bugging me for the past few weeks to test my cable modem speed. Comcast had recently announced speeds would double (back to where they were when @Home closed down - but that's another story) on cable modem accounts like mine.

I've been testing every once in a while. Going to the sites that count bits and seeing that I was pretty much where I had been, about 1.5 mbps downloads. Don't get me wrong, that's 70 times faster than what I used to get with my dial-up modem.

Tonight I gave it one more try. First, I unplugged the cable modem and then plugged it back in. The front panel lights started to flash. Even the Test light, which I had never seen lit came to life. After a while the Cable and Test lights started going through some rapid fit-like spurt of activity... and then... back to normal.

I went to the speakeasy speedtest site and gave it a try. To quote Steffie, "Ohmygawd!" In an instant, my download speed had doubled. I now have more bandwidth coming into this house than my TV station has for the entire station.

Click here to take a look at speakeasy's speed rundown and comparison. This much access. It just boggles the mind.

This was my morning to be on WTIC. Even though I had been in radio for 11 years, I was apprehensive. I've only done talk shows a few times, and haven't done one solo in better than 20 years.

I feared there would be no calls. What would I do or say? How could I fill that much time? And, what about topics I wanted to shy away from?

I have a rule to stay away from partisan politics because I work in a newsroom. Even though talk show hosts would normally be expected to let it all hang out, I had my 'real' job to return to. Even the weatherman should be 'above' the political fray.

I woke up early - around 7:15 AM. For me, who usually doesn't go to bed until 3 or 4 AM, that's the middle of the night! Actually, knowing I'd be home in time to catch a little nap made it easier to get into the shower and get dressed.

A definite advantage radio has over TV is the dress code. I could wear anything and not even shave. I went with a black pullover sweater and jeans with sneakers.

Remembering the last time, I left the house about 5 after 8 and headed directly to Dunkin' Donuts. Medium coffee, cream and sugar, I was set. I had a long enough drive to allow the coffee to reach the correct drinking temperature.

This being the day after Christmas, traffic was fairly light. I absentmindedly blew by Route 9 on I91 and ended up heading to I84 in Hartford. Though I've been to WTIC before, I never remember how to get there. And, the directions are only moderately helpful because I never remember if the phrase "I84 West" means I'm driving west on I84 or coming from the west on I84!

WTIC is located in a nondescript, two story building in a Farmington office park. It's a perfectly fine place for a radio station, I suppose. Deep inside, I really feel WTIC deserves to be in a free standing building of its own. It is one of America's storied radio stations, with a long and rich history. It should be in a building that makes a statement. This building does not.

Mike Constantinou, my producer, was waiting in the parking lot when I arrived. The lot itself was 10% full. WTIC and its three sister stations were, in essence, still closed for Christmas. Only the air staff was on hand, and even then it was a smaller staff than usual. There was a sub for traffic, a sub for news, a sub for weather, and me subbing for Jim Vicevich.

We walked inside and I said hello to Ray Dunaway, who along with the vacationing Diane Smith, does the morning drive show. Ray has the deep, ballsy voice I always wanted, and never got. Like me, he had known from childhood that he was going to be in radio and then just followed through.

Before long I had headphones on and was schmoozing with Ray. We talked global warming (both of us are somewhat dubious of the gloom and doom) and how kids growing up have a misconception of the cleanliness of our air versus the pollution I knew as a kid.

He's used to working with a partner and plays well with others, so I had no problems.

Ten O'clock came along and Ray left... leaving me the studio. I had told Mike that I wanted to run the board for the phones, but let him handle the commercials, news and traffic. As the news played out from a small studio off to the side, I sat down and got as comfortable as possible.

The studio is average sized for a radio studio. There are three mikes at the table surrounding the audio console, and one mike at the console itself. Off to the left were two computers - one for the commercials and logged content and another for communications between the producer and me. Slightly behind me and also to the left a lone PC on the Internet.

I had noticed a memo in the newsroom admonishing the staff not to use company computers to check their private email accounts whether they be Hotmail (actually, in the note it was Hot mail), Yahoo or anything else. At the same time, I couldn't call home on the studio phone because you needed an accounting code to place an outside call. This is 2003 and I'm paying 3¢ a minute for long distance service at home; they must be paying less. What are they worried about? After all, the studios are full of hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of equipment and there's the liability that comes when the air staff is live. Internet and phone access should be way down the list of concerns.

News gave way to traffic and weather and then I was on. It was like getting back on a bicycle. I was ready to go.

In a talk show, you throw out topics in much the same way bartenders seed the tip jar. You're trying to get your idea out to the audience. And, if they deviate or find a better place to go, you go there too.

Quickly, I started taking calls. After the fact, Helaine said I was trying too hard... and maybe I was. I didn't have tomorrow to correct my mistakes. It was now or never. I wanted to limit calls - keep bringing in fresh ideas.

The common wisdom in talk shows is, it's very easy to let someone go on too long. You're better off moving through many calls. Of course to do that, you need calls.

A few minutes into the show, I started having technical troubles. It was my fault without a doubt. The controls for the phone lines were straight forward, but not very well marked. After a few calls I started pressing the wrong buttons and got trapped in some sort of talk show hell where I was camped on a line with someone who had been dispatched and no way to get to the next listener. Bad for the rhythm of the show.

I had received a note with the names of my traffic and news reporters. Next to the traffic reporters name, Rachel Duran, was a note saying, "Don't call her Jill." In some sort of radio insanity, the folks who report traffic on many different stations use many different names.

Best line of the morning (spoken on air but directed to Mike the producer): "Some people don't call because they're worried about being on hold too long. There should be a policy. If there are more than two callers waiting, we'll open up another register."

A woman called from Bristol. She had no idea who this new voice on the air was, and when I told her, she still didn't know who I was. After nearly 20 years in the market, I'm entitled to have a little fun with that, so I told her we had given out $1,000 to each of our TV viewers last week and she had missed out.

From then on, I began to ask all the callers if they had gotten their $1,000 and everyone seemed to go along with the joke. Later, I began asking if anyone had gotten a hot tub from a friend... a not too veiled reference to Governor Rowland who had accepted a hot tub and is now in hot water.

I made it to the top of the hour newscast with only minor cuts and scratches.

Things went well as we began the second hour, but then trouble. The phone lines dried up. Beads of sweat began to form. I made a crucial mistake - a rookie mistake: I said we were out of calls.

As soon as I said it, I knew I had crossed some sacred talk show line. Sure, it's not my job, but I'll still kick myself every time I remember I did it.

With no traffic in Connecticut, every time Rachel (not Jill) came on the air, I asked her for a traffic report for some obscure area of the state, like Occum or Forestville or Union. She laughed and took it like a trooper.

The first rule of improv is going along with the bit. Rachel (not Jill) played the game correctly. Her willingness to have fun made the bit funnier. Actually, without her laughter it wasn't funny at all. She made the bit.

As noon approached I was rolling and actually dreaded the end coming so soon.

I'm sure if I did it again, I would do some things differently. And, when I listen to the aircheck I brought home, some of my talk show shortcomings will come into sharp focus. I still have my amateur status, so that's not a big deal.

Maybe there will be another time. You never know.

On December 13th I wrote about how bad our poker luck had gotten. From nearly even on December 1st we were down $150 only two weeks later.

It didn't end there. Over the next week we continued sliding until we were $210+ down since our original buy-in.

At this point, let me put this into perspective. We deposited $250 at pokerstars.com in the middle of August. Between the two of us, we've been playing multiple times every day. Even if we would have tapped out, it still would have been fair value in entertainment for our money.

Poker is a fun, strategic game with both skill and luck on every hand, and it's a challenge to play right.

About a week ago, all of a sudden, out of the blue, our luck changed again.

I think I started winning consistently before Helaine, but it doesn't make much difference, because we both started winning. In the little $5.50 and $11 tournaments we play in, it's difficult to move in either direction at any more than a snail's pace - but we did.

As I type this, having just held on for dear life and placed third in an $11 tournament ($18 - $11 = $7 net profit), we are now down $59.98 over our 4½ months of online play¹.

Somehow, we managed to erase $150 in losses.

So, what are we doing differently? Probably nothing. Maybe some nuances... tough to say. Both of our games are mature, in that we've played hundreds of times and have established our strategies.

If there is one thing I can put my finger on, I now play tighter when I'm down late in the game, which has paid off. Tonight was a perfect example. With 4 players remaining, I had $280 of the $13,500 (these are tournament chips - not real face value) on the table. I held tight and didn't bet mediocre cards just because I was running out of cash. When someone else did, he busted, letting me finish in 3rd place.

I think both Helaine and I would benefit from a better understanding of what to play when the table gets down to 3-5 players. With fewer competitors less becomes more, I suppose.

Meanwhile, we're going to head to Foxwoods this weekend where I will try my luck face-to-face. Helaine prefers online play and will find other ways to fill her time.

¹ - The pennies are from the few times I played in low stakes "live" games.

Stefanie has been away for this entire week. So, Helaine and I have been taking it somewhat easy at home as temporary empty nester's.

Earlier, Helaine had asked if I wanted to go to Foxwoods for their brunch. Foxwoods is a casino - the biggest in the world - and it's about an hour's drive away in Eastern Connecticut.

There are certain givens when going to a casino.
1) You will gamble
2) The food experience will be over the top

I had worked Saturday night (unusual), but didn't stay up as late as usual and was out of bed by 10:30 to shower and make the drive. Our reservations at Fox Harbor were for 1:00 PM, so we'd have plenty of time.

Today was a spectacular winter's day. The sky was blue with some high, wispy cirrus clouds. Even as we left home, before noon, the temperature was approaching 50° (and got to 53° at Willimantic, CT, not far from Foxwoods), well above the late December average.

I was apprehensive as we drove because normally light trafficked areas on I-95, The Connecticut Turnpike, were moderately loaded with cars. It was the last day of the Christmas holiday, and for many 'going home' day. As we passed the first entrance for valet parking, I realized this traffic hadn't gone to the casino but was just passing through.

Originally there was poker at both of Connecticut's casinos, Foxwoods and Mohegan Sun. A few months ago, Mohegan Sun's room closed (about a day before the huge new interest in poker began). Foxwoods is now busy day and night. Today was no exception.

I headed into the poker room before heading to brunch. I knew it would be smart to get on a list early, and did just that. There must have been 50 names for the half dozen tables at my limit.

While walking through the room I ran into Jimmy Christina, one of the floor bosses. Jimmy has been at Foxwoods since they opened their doors. He has the kind of gravely voice that shrieks of whiskey and cigarettes... and a ponytail that is seldom seen by people who wear suits. When I grow up, I want to be Jimmy Christina. I have no idea what his official title is, but he wields power and settles disputes and is a poker room fixture.

Brunch at Fox Harbor was no disappointment. When we eat at a buffet brunch, Helaine and I know it will be our one meal of the day. This was perfect. I started with clams and shrimp then added lamb chops (incredible). After a few trips through the line I had sampled crepes, pasta, more lamb, and baby lobster tails like I had never seen before. And then there was desert!

We waddled out of the buffet and headed toward the poker room. Poker and Fox Harbor are at the opposite ends of the casinos... but we could have been walking to Las Vegas and not walked off this brunch.

I quickly sat down at a $4-$8 fixed limit Hold'em table. I hadn't played poker at a casino since we began playing online in earnest. The casino was going to be slower and any 'tells' I had (hidden while I play online in my pajamas) would be obvious to all who watched. I pulled out 5 - $20 bills and bought chips from a neighbor at the table who had obviously done well over time.

It's true. You do play more hands per hour online. On the other, the conversation was reasonably good and I had a nice time. Before long, I slow played a well hidden straight, check bumped one of the other players, and won somewhere around $75 on one hand. This was my high water mark. Unfortunately, it didn't last.

Before long Ashley Adams came up to the table and said hello. Ashley had been our union rep from AFTRA (The American Federation of Television and Radio Artists) at the station. Though now repping teachers, I had sat alongside him during contract negotiations and knew him well. And, of course, I knew he enjoyed playing poker as much as anything else.

For years, Ashley has been an active participant in the Usenet group dedicated to poker and is recognized as an expert. Now, he pulled out a paperback book, and I realized he had also become the author of "Winning 7-Card Stud."

Currently 62,418th on Amazon's sales list, Ashley won't be able to quit his day job just yet, but the online reviews are excellent. Five reviewers, and each gave it the 5-star maximum!

I've been skimming through it, and though 7-card stud is not my game of choice, it reads very well. If you miss losing one hand because of what he says, the book has paid for itself, even at very low limit tables.

Meanwhile, at my table the cards were not coming. In fact, during 4-5 hours of play I can't remember being dealt a pair of face cards or Ace/King once!

My Waterloo came when I was 'blinded in' and flopped 2 pair, Aces and Jacks. I felt pretty good and started betting, only to have another player return and re-raise my bets. By the time all was said and done, I had invested well over $60 in my two pair, only to face 3 - Aces.

You want the odds? If I have Ace and Jack, and the flop turns up another Ace (and Jack), then there are 47 cards I don't know about, with 2 Aces remaining. It's 2 chances in 47 for him to have gotten an Ace on the first card and then 1 in 46 to get the second. All in all, his two Aces against my hand comes up less than 1 in 1,000 (.000925069)!

By the time the day was over, I was down $132.

I didn't play poorly. Once, I peeked at my hole cards on a flush draw - tipping off my hand. Still, that was the exception, not the rule. I lost, mostly, because of bad cards. And, because my cards were so bad, and I looked so tight as a player, when I finally did go in, everyone knew I had a made hand and folded, reducing my win.

Helaine spent the afternoon playing blackjack, and left with some cash in her pocket.

On the way out we played some slot machines. Foxwoods seems to have less machines featuring licensed concepts, like TV shows or characters, than you see in Las Vegas. We played a Dick Clark Bandstand slot and quickly walked away. Monte Hall treated us very nicely at Let's Make a Deal. We left the slots about even.

One more comment before I go.

Both Foxwoods and Mohegan Sun cater to a large contingent of Asian clientèle. For instance, we walked by a smoky gaming area, featuring some domino based game I didn't know, which was 100% populated by Asian players.

With this large base of customers, Foxwoods ends up booking many Asian oriented acts in their beautiful Fox Theater. Today was no exception. I can't tell you the name of the headliner, because the text was in Chinese. I can tell you the shows were at 2:00 PM and 2:00 AM - a reflection of the large number of customers who can only come to Foxwoods after the restaurants they work in, in New York and Boston, close for the night.

Today, parts of Connecticut got into the 50's. Meanwhile, right now, as I type this, it's 25° on the summit of Mauna Kea in Hawaii! In fact, though there's no contemporaneous full observation available, it is likely snowing at the observatory and a Winter Storm Warning is in effect.

Winter weather at Mauna Kea isn't as rare as you would imagine, with snowfall a few times each year. After all, Mauna Kea means white mountain! The mountain hosts an unofficial ski area, without lifts or snow making equipment, and it will probably be busy later today.

Things are supposed to go smoothly, but they never do. I've just suffered through two computer related problems - one taking a full ten hours of time without a solution.

First things first. I notice earlier today that I had only received a few emails all day. Normally, I get 100-200 emails a day, the vast majority of which are spam.

I went to my webhost's site (not Comcast, my ISP, but hostforweb.com who runs the server you're getting geofffox.com on and also my mail server) and used their tech support chat. It didn't take more than a few minutes for Fred to tell me something had hung and all mail sent to me (or at least the vast majority of it) had be sent packing.

As best I can tell this had been going on for 24-36 hours. Oh well. There's really nothing I can do. I'm not sure about he actual bounce message returned, so some might be re-queued and re-sent.

The second problem was much more time consuming and sinister. My friend John has an old Compaq Armada laptop and a pristine copy of Windows 98 from a desktop machine that's no longer in service. All I had to do was load it up and he'd take it back. This is something I'm glad to do for a friend.

The Armada 1590 is a Pentium 166 laptop that was loaded with Windows 95 and originally came with 16 MB of RAM. Today, that's a ridiculously small amount of memory. Windows 98 might have run, but it would have run ponderously slow.

I reformatted the hard drive, checked for and installed a BIOS update and then set out to load Windows 98. This is a task I've done dozens of times... and never with a problem.

Windows loaded fine, but as soon as I got to the first screen after the installation and the computer began to play it's little "I'm Ready" music, it locked up tight as could be. It would neither respond to keystrokes or the mouse/touchpad. Rebooting brought me back to the same problem.

I went on Google's Usenet site which often has great tech support ideas, only to read a series of unhappy Armada owners who tried and never quite got Windows 98 to work.

I reformatted and tried again from scratch. Each time you do that, figure an hour or so until you're at the first workable screen. I loaded Windows 98 totally at least four times.

After a while, and after staring at those cryptic Microsoft error messages (never had so many words and numbers given so little insight into what's going wrong), I decided the problem might be with the audio driver on the Windows 98 disk. For some reason it didn't seem to get along with the hardware which was, after all, designed long before Windows 98. I turned off the audio hardware from the control panel and booted again.

Success - but not for long.

Even a freshly loaded Windows 98 (or XP for that matter) PC needs loads of updates, patches and fixes. The more I downloaded and fixed, the more unstable the laptop became. BSODs ("Blue Screen of Death") came fast and furiously.

Finally, I got to load DirectX 9. I have no idea what DirectX does, other than to say loading this update into the laptop brought it to its knees! Not only did the laptop crash but the Registry (which tells the computer where and what all the programs on it's drive are) was now corrupted. Windows 98 was more than glad to restore a prior version of the Registry, which of course brought me back to square one.

I played this game twice.

Finally I called John on the phone and said, "No mas." OK, actually it was Roberto Duran who said that, and neither John nor I speak Spanish, but you get the point.

Can this laptop be made to play nicely with Windows 98? Maybe. But, is it worth it? Probably not - I'm not really sure - oh who knows. I'm just so frustrated at this point.

The few fleeting moments I did have it running, it seemed reasonably nimble with web browsing. And, in that there's some Internet wisdom that needs to be shared. This computer is only a Pentium I at 166 MHz. Lots of people throw machines of that speed out as too slow. With enough RAM - and John had boosted the 16 to 82 MB - even a slower Pentium is plenty fast for working the web.

Would I play games with it or edit video or run Photoshop or other high end multimedia programs? Hell no. But, most of what everyone does on the web demands much less horsepower. The laptop I use most is a Pentium II 300 MHz and it kills.

As for John's laptop, before I attempt any more software loading, I am going to bring it near the sink with the water running full blast and explain what we do to computers that don't cooperate. That trick always works.

It was a sad day today as my beautiful 1992 Toyota Camry was ratcheted onto a flatbed and driven away. In all, it was a rather ignominious ending for a wonderful car - maybe the best I've ever owned.

The Camry had 135,000 miles on it. The engine was sweet and still more powerful than you'd expect from four little cylinders. A cheap, fresh, black paint job, less than a year old, clung to it like some sort of auto toupee.

It pulled to one side, but that seemed to be tire related as opposed to car related. When the problem first showed up, I had Steve at the Exxon station rotate the tires and the problem just moved from one side of the road to the other.

I know it could go over 105 mph, because one Saturday on the very quiet portion of I-84, just south of the Massachusetts line, I had opened it up. I was feeling good having just captured two Emmys and was rushing back to Connecticut to help out at the Hamden High School 'after prom' and then a Good Morning America/Sunday live shot.

Inside, some radio buttons (specifically the one set aside for WCBS-880) were starting to show my digital favoritism. The tiny pop-out knobs for the bass and treble had long since popped out. The floor mats curled along the edges as I inadvertently pushed them slightly to the side every day.

Once, the Camry seemingly healed itself. During its first year, while riding down I-91, I hit something on the road. Bang. It was loud, and I could feel it in my feet.

Whatever it was hit squarely on the bottom of the car. After an unrelated incident with my muffler, the service manager at Faulkner Toyota, outside Philadelphia, told me whatever had hit the car did significant damage to the oil pan and some other parts. I needed to replace them to the tune of $1,000+ or face the consequences further down the road.

I never fixed the oil pan and it never complained, though that happened at least 115,000 miles ago. Thanks Faulkner.

With my "toy car" in the garage during any kind of wet weather, the Toyota still managed 8-9,000 miles a year. It sipped regular and still exceeded 22 mph - even with my lead foot. It never burned oil.

It was the first car I ever owned with a vanity license plate. It started as FORCST. I was asked on more than one occasion, "What's does 'for cyst' mean?" When Connecticut changed the protocol for marker plates, it became FOR•CST.

Over the years, the windshield became pitted from my 85 mph dashes going to and from work on I-91. That made it tough to see clearly when the Sun was low in the afternoon sky. The adhesive from the Velcro strip I used to hold the radar detector in place oozed a little on the dashboard.

A few years ago, when the freon had leaked from the air conditioner, Steve switched me over to some atmosphere friendly coolant. From that time forward you could hang meat in the car.

When Helaine suggested we get another four wheel drive vehicle, now that Steffie was driving to and from school, the handwriting was on the wall for the Camry. I wanted to keep it, but it just didn't make sense for the three of us to have four cars, each with an insurance and tax bill, and each needing a place to park.

At the dealership, buying the RAV4 which would replace the Camry, Howie, the salesman apologized and then offered me $500 for it. As I would later learn from friends, that's all he could expect to get for it at auction. On the other hand, if I went to sell it privately, the car was worth well over $2,000. But, who wants to sell a car from home?

My friend Harold had spearheaded a program at Connecticut Public Television where they would take your car, and since it was a donation, I could claim the fair market value (which I established online from the "Bluebook").

So, this evening the flatbed arrived and the Camry went away.

If you're in the market for a used car and this little cream puff shows up, believe me when I say, she's a gem. Without a doubt, the best car I ever had and the first car I was ever sorry to see go.

I was intrigued when we first got digital cable. All those channels. All the programming.

Of course Gresham's Law is right at home in TV. Mr. Wolfson, my 12th grade Social Studies teacher pounded it into me. Cheap money drives expensive money out.

In TV, it's cheap programming that drives expensive programming out. That's one of the reasons reality programs are so popular with TV and cable networks. Compared to an hour long drama or mature sitcoms, reality is dirt cheap. But little on TV is cheaper than old movies - and my cable dial (OK, there's no dial anymore, but that's the phrase) is loaded with old movies.

That brings us to tonight's 'classic': Airport.

Watching Airport, it's tough to believe this movie opened an entire genre of films - the disaster movie. It also spawned a sequel and, of course, the movie Airplane is an homage.

It's trite and predictable, but I'm not sure it was predictable then. I've seen movies like this dozens of times - but had I in 1970?

Though the problematic airline is the fictional Trans Global, George Kennedy walks around in a TWA mechanic's suit and jacket. On the runway, but in a 'posed' shot, crew members moved in and out of a Northwest bus and a Delta flight to Pittsburgh is 'called' in the terminal. All this in the days before product placement.

Ah, the good old days. The passenger who smuggled a bomb on board didn't have to deal with magnetometers or shoe searches. Even Helen Hayes was easily able to smuggle herself from coast-to-coast on four engine 707s with 3 - man cockpit crews and a smoking section.

The real problem with this movie is that the disaster on Dean Martin's flight is held until the very end. No special effects, no stunts, no 2nd unit shots from helicopters. It was spellbinding in 1970. It isn't any more.

As much as I want to turn it off, I need to stick around to see if I'm right about one thing... that George Kennedy, after pulling a plane out of snow, says thank you to "Mr. Boeing."

Oops. I'm wrong.

Here's what actually happened. George Kennedy's trying to get the plane out of snow - gunning the engines. Finally, the plane moves. The kid next to him in the co-pilot's seat says, "The manual says that was impossible." To which Kennedy chews a little more on his cigar and says, "That's the good thing about the 707. It can do everything except read."

Later, Barry Nelson thanks Mr. Boeing. Close, no cigar.

As I was getting ready to shut the computer down, I noticed the little graph on my Google page rank seemed longer. Size may be unimportant in real life, but ranking that the size of the graph represents is immense when it comes to how a site is indexed and reported by Google on the web.

I am now a 7 on Google's 1-10 scale¹. 7 is huge - more than the vast majority of commercial sites. More than the site connected to my place of work! That's ridiculous. I'm just a guy writing about his life... with varying degrees of success.

Not worthy. Not worthy.

¹ - No sooner did I post this than my importance returned to a 6. Google couldn't have seen anything that quickly. A few minutes later, I was a 7 again.

Research has now become necessary. How do they come up with the rank, and how fluid is it? Does it have anything to do with the quality of the stuff they're smoking?

I woke up this morning (OK, it was this afternoon), turned on the computer and saw - - - no mail on the geofffox.com account. Uh oh.

I believe I am the poster child for spam reception, so going a few hours without getting mail definitely means trouble at my server.

Fred was doing tech support again at hostforweb.com. He thinks he can fix the problem. I hope so. Today, losing email is a major problem. It's funny how quickly email became indispensable.

I don't have an incredibly long history as a webmaster. So, for me, it's often confusing and at the same time interesting to peek at the inner workings of this site. I have owned the domain name geofffox.com for a few years, but it's only been since late July that I've mounted this blog and photo gallery.

My webserver is actually located in Chicago, and run by hostforweb.com. It is shared with other small websites. I have access to most of the server's guts through shell programs.

In order for you to see what you're reading now, I have to upload all the files and images and programs from home. There are a number of programs, like the one that produces the weather forecast meteograms that run on clocks and execute a few times a day. I had to write the scripts to do that too.

Running this website has forced me to learn a little about a bunch of computer disciplines, like php, Perl, bash shell scripts, html and a veritable alphabet soup of minutiae. It's been challenging and like Blanche Du Bois, I am often dependent on the kindness of strangers. The more I learn about computers, the less I realize I know.

With the year over in less than four hours, I though I'd summarize a little of what's gone through this site in 2003. Since it was only born in July, the stats are (hopefully) less than what I'll get to publish in 2004.

7.76 GB That's the total amount of data I've spit out. It melts down to 10 CDROM's worth... or a few DVD's. The majority of my hits go to the United States, but most of Europe and the Pacific Rim are represented as well.

271.69 MB That's what Google slurped up. Loads of spiders and crawlers moved through the site, picking up the data that goes into search engines. Google took down nearly 5 times as much data as the next biggest search engine and was responsible for 6711 page views by users. I have chronicled elsewhere my rise in the Google rankings - a feat which both intrigues and fascinates me.

Giblet gravy That's the most used search engine phrase that sent people to the site. They must have been disappointed because I used the phrase to illustrate a point that had nothing to do with cooking. The next most requested phrase was Scotty Crowe, John Mayer's road manager.

Thanks to everyone who's written to ask me for John's email address. Even if I had it, I couldn't give it out. You will be glad to know your admiration is not misplaced. There's a whole lot to admire about John. I don't think he'll be spoiled by success.

I'm not sure how or why, but people searching for dangerous Internet cafes in las vegas nv and she had to remove her shoes airport ended up being sent to geofffox.com.

My cousin Michael and his wife Melissa in Sunny Southern California became blog readers. More than anyone, Michael made me realize I could use an editor from time-to-time. I try to spell and grammar check, but you need a dispassionate eye too.

My dad reads the blog every day. That pleases me more than he'll ever know.

From time to time I've looked at my logs, seeing where readers are coming from. There's someone at NBC in NY who reads pretty regularly, same at the vendor of our station's weather equipment and Mississippi State University, where I'm taking courses. Most readers are connecting through residential addresses, but I'm amazed by all the different companies and universities that are listed.

Once, I made reference to probes of my home computer by a virus ensconced in a PC at a San Fransisco Honda dealer. I made an analogy that used the word 'doorknob'. A few days later a computer at a doorknob manufacturer downloaded a significant portion of this site. They'll be as surprised as the giblet gravy crowd.

In 2003 approximately 17,000 separate viewers came calling to this site. Collectively you visited 30,000 times, downloading 872,000 files. My page counter now sits just north of 60,000.

Every word I write is read, re-read, edited, punched up and perused again before it goes online. One of the more pleasant surprises of blogging is how challenging and how much fun it is to write. I never felt that way about writing before.

Often it is a cathartic experience, allowing me to get something off my chest. Other times it's fun to let you in on something I observed and want to share.

My family puts up with this to a point. I reveal a lot in this blog, but not everything. A friend wrote to tell me he was surprised to see this 'warts and all' self assessment. If there are warts here, they are a small portion of my own personal wart colony. Like most people, I keep a few skeletons in my closet.

Thanks for reading. It really means a lot to me. Really.