June 2007 Archives

I got a call Thursday afternoon from Melanee Webster, my friend Kevin's wife. They were at Yale/New Haven Hospital getting ready to come home. It was Kevin's wish.

I'm not sure what her exact words were, but I knew what she meant. If I was going to see Kevin again, the time was now.

This evening, after our early news, I made the drive to Cheshire.

I remember the first time Kevin and I met. We're both ham radio operators. A mutual friend, Harold Kramer, had seen my antenna setup in the attic. He thought I'd do better if my wires were flying in the trees, so he called Kevin and another friend, John Fowler.

Kevin came to my house to do me a favor. He didn't know me. He didn't have to. He did favors for friends and strangers alike as a matter of course.

I was amazed as he pulled out a slingshot... something I'd only seen in Dennis the Menace cartoons, and shot a lead line into a tall tree. Before the afternoon was over, I had a wire antenna strung between two trees at the 80 foot level!

Where did he find the time? Kevin had four daughters and was extremely active in his church. He was always busy... and yet he was always available. That 'busy' and 'available' weren't mutually exclusive was just part of his magic.

Kevin and I quickly became friends. We built radios together, went to computer shows and ham radio events and talked on the phone.

He was the ultimate technogeek. As the allure of ham radio was replaced by computers, Kevin adapted, becoming everyone's 'go to' guy for tech support and help. As with antennas, Kevin helped everyone.

Sometimes, when facing a particularly puzzling challenge, he'd call me for advice. I'd like to think he was more savvy, but he inherently knew two heads were better than one and he didn't have a jealous or envious bone in his body.

A few years ago, Kevin got into kayaking. One Saturday, he found a kayak for me to use so I could join him for a float on a lazy river. This river was well beneath his expertise, but he gave up a little to afford me a good time.

I say without fear of contradiction, Kevin Webster is the nicest man I've ever known or will ever meet. He is the proverbial 'shirt off your back' guy.

He was always up, always smiling, always laughing, even when he found out he had incurable pancreatic cancer. That was nearly a year ago. Too damned short a time.

I spent a good part of July 4th weekend last year trying to make sure Kevin would get the best care possible. My weather partner, Dr. Mel Goldstein (a cancer survivor himself and incredibly well connected) made calls to the top specialists in the field.

It was a holiday weekend, but time was of the essence. Dr. Mel just called them at home. I will never properly be able to express my gratitude for what he did for Kevin.

When I first discovered Kevin's fate, I thought to myself, God must have made a mistake. Kevin's not the one to take. It just doesn't make any sense.

I've thought a lot about Kevin's mortality over the past year. Surely he and Melanee have considered it more, but it was on my mind too.

In March, at a poker table in Las Vegas, I sat next to a man who was a counselor at a hospice in Texas. We talked about Kevin and my fears for him.

"No one ever dies scared," he said.

I was taken aback. I asked him to explain.

He told me he had been with 800 people as they approached death and none of them were fearful as they approached their end. It was among the most reassuring things I'd ever heard. I wanted to write about it then, but I thought it might be uncomfortable or disrespectful if Kevin read it.

My hope is Kevin is not scared about what lies ahead.

My friend Harold and I walked into Kevin's house tonight and into a downstairs bedroom. There was some hospital equipment, a bed with rails and Kevin sitting in a big chair.

It was tough to look. My poor friend has been ravaged by his cancer. His skin was ashen, his eyes sunk deeply into his skull, his breathing was shallow. His feet were in socks, but so swollen it looked like they were in casts. Later, when I helped him move, I saw his bruises from dozens of injections and probes.

At times, Kevin would just stop all motion and blankly stare ahead as if he were in suspended animation. It was tough not to think the end was coming right there.

He said a few words and acknowledged our presence, but I'm not sure how much he really understands right now. He's sedated with opiates to control his pain. It's a guess he was drifting in and out of consciousness.

Melanee sat by his side and gently comforted him. She is his life's partner... the girl he met while they were both students at BYU. They were each other's only tue love.

Neither of them could have anticipated this outcome when they pledged their love and lives to each other.

Kevin will soon be gone. His body is shutting down piece-by-piece. It's tough to imagine he'll live more than a few days in his current state.

Kevin's last year was spent in pain, while suffering the indignity invasive medical treatment brings. And yet, if given the opportunity to stop the pain... end his life early... he would have said no.

He got to spend time with his granddaughter and watch another grandchild swell his daughter's belly. He got to see another daughter graduate college; the second to do so.

He was proud when Marlene, his youngest daughter, a high school senior, trained and ran a race for charity in Miami. She showed maturity as she tackled an adult sized challenge.

Kevin spent a lot of the last year being up and happy and smiling and... well, he was just being Kevin. Until the very end, cancer could not strip him of that.

The sadness we experience when someone dies is often so overwhelming, we forget what it really means. We mourn the most those we love the most. As horrific as that pain is, it is worthwhile because of what we got in return.

Kevin, I will miss you every day. Our friendship will live in my heart forever.

Kevin Webster died this morning at home in Cheshire.

Melanee, sensing his shortening breath, brought their four daughters in around 4:00 AM. The whole family was together at Kevin's bedside until the very end.

They have honored me by asking I help eulogize Kevin at the funeral, Wednesday.

It is a sad day indeed. Please keep Kevin and his family in your prayers.

I was on Instant Messenger with my friend Farrell a moment ago. Though he works in Poland, tonight he's home in Palm Springs.

It's was freaky to be online, speaking with someone, as the quake let loose.

This was even more amazing. Within a few moments,the data was available online!

According to all this, Farrell felt the quake and sent a message three seconds before it happened! Could be my clock. Could be a data error at USGS.

Farrell and Vered are OK. They've got no damage. I'd be changing underwear.

My friend Peter needed a web page. He has changed his address and phone number. Friends and old customers might be looking for him. No sweat.

The page is simple and was simple for me to put together. Really, all it is is a statement saying, "Here I am."

Unfortunately, search engines don't get excited about web pages that have no incoming links... which is why Spectrum Research is linked here.

That's it. This is nothing more than a sneaky ploy to help a friend get noticed by otherwise dumb robots. Welcome to the 21st Century!

Old joke. Man walks into the doctors office and says, "Doc, I've got a terrible pain in my leg. Is there anything I can do?" And the doctor says, "Limp!"

I'm that guy!

I continue to drag my left leg through life, still plagued by some sort of tendon grief brought on by my desire to be fit. I wear an elastic sock over my regular sock and spent time yesterday both soaking and icing the leg.

Shoot me now - please.

I have been riding my bike, because I've been told it won't make things worse. God, I hope they're right.

The exercise followed my latest trip down the Atkins path. That part is working, though slowly.

Unfortunately, I can't tell you exactly what I've lost, though I sense somewhere between 10 and 15 pounds. My old scale wasn't dependable, giving radically different readings within seconds of each other.

It's been replaced, but that removes my baseline.

I don't find staying on this diet very difficult. And, I do see a slow change, even on the new bathroom scale. Within the next few days I'll be taking a regularly scheduled blood test and I trust my cholesterol numbers will still be fine.

All this being said, I was just asked to submit a headshot for a project I'm involved in. I used a little Photoshop magic. No sense waiting for the diet to finish when I can show the results today!

I woke up early (for me) today and headed out for a little physical therapy. My leg is still a major concern. I never knew trying to get healthy could cause so much pain!

I'm probably kvetching more than I should. Helaine says I'm an awful patient. Sure... probably.

I went home, thinking I'd take a little nap before work. There were thunderstorms on the radar, which were expected. What I didn't expect was Helaine waking me after a few minutes. A tornado warning had been posted.

There's just no good way to absorb a warning like that. This isn't Kansas. we don't have roadside sirens to wail. Guy like me have to 'sell' the warning over-the-air.

No tornadoes were spotted, thankfully. However, today's weather gave me pause, as I thought about the real power of the atmosphere.

We had vivid cloud-to-ground lightning. That means a charge of several tens of thousand volts formed between the clouds and Earth. That's real energy. Just because you can't plug the vacuum cleaner into it doesn't make it any less powerful.

We also had hail approaching golf ball size. In 23 years here, that's the largest hail I'd ever seen.

Since hail is formed as water drops freeze while suspended in clouds, you need really strong winds to get large hail. Golf ball size means 60-70 mph winds blowing straight up! Now you know one more reason why airplanes avoid thunderstorms.

You always hope your advice keeps people inside, out of harm's way. And, as far as I know, no one was hurt. I'll take a tiny bit of the credit.

I just spoke with Helaine. When she got the mail there was an envelope for me she recognized - Jury Duty!

I didn't see Helaine as she told me, but there was a snide smile on her face. Trust me, I know.

Is there Night Court for people with my hours?

More on this later.

I opened the envelope and stared at my "SUMMONS FOR PETIT JUROR."

Hey! Who are you calling 'petit'?

I assume this just differentiates my service from that of a grand juror. Considering the number of times I've heard it said, "a prosecutor could get a grand jury to indict a ham sandwich," I'll stick with this.

I have been summoned to Superior Court in New Haven. To quote the State of Connecticut, Judicial Branch website: "The Superior Court hears civil, criminal, family and juvenile matters."

It is to the court system as Wal*Mart is to retail - a little of everything.

There's a checklist of all those ineligible to serve. Too old - no service. No English - no service. Not a resident - no service. Felony conviction - no service. If a judge found that "I exhibit a quality which will impair my ability to serve - no service.

There's even a discrete checkbox for the governor and other top state officials to disqualify themselves. You don't want that crew making difficult decisions!

Jury duty appearance time is 8:00 AM. Even worse, it's 8:00 AM EDT (Hawaiian time would have been fine and should be an option)! What are they thinking? If I'm going to be a juror who is somebody's peer, shouldn't that somebody be nocturnal?

Truth is, I'd love to serve on a jury. I like seeing how the sausage is made. No one will deny I'm judgmental. I'm just not sure how attorneys will view me.

Luckily, the court is pretty flexible as far as rescheduling is concerned. I say that because jury duty is set for my birthday! We'll be in Philadelphia, seeing the Phillies play the night before. There's no reasonable way to get back to New Haven in time.

Nobody wants a cranky juror.

I turned on the noon news to see a live report from Norwich.

I don't know whether she is guilty or not, but this obscure story about a Connecticut substitute teacher became a major cause célèbre in the Geek World. There is no shortage of support for the teacher, most of it based on disdain for the school district's cavalier attitude toward computer security and the state's use of an expert who was anything but. Much of what he said was incorrect or half truths which cast a bad light on Ms Amaro.

That this case can be revisited shows the strength of our justice system and the raw power of populist empowerment, brought on by the Internet.

My guess is, this never comes to trial and Julie Amaro is off the hook. Who gives her back all this time, all her grief and her reputation?

My friend Kevin's funeral was held tonight. As much as I expected a terribly tragic evening, it was not.

I'm not saying it wasn't sad. Of course it was.

I brought three hankies and they did not go to waste. This, however, was more than sadness. It was what a funeral should be - a celebration of Kevin's life.

Kevin was, and Melanee and their families still are, devout Mormons. It's a religion where lay people officiate at services. Before cancer, Kevin was the Bishop of his branch¹.

His faith was very much part of his life. I greatly respect Kevin's devotion, even though he and I reached very different conclusions on faith and God. It was easy to see how it also shaped his out-of-church life.

I suspect faith serves his family well in this time when questions are many and answers few. There is reassurance when you believe a higher purpose awaits all of us, that heaven is a very real, and Kevin is waiting there for us.

Helaine, Stef and I drove to Cheshire and followed our friends Harold and Karen to the service in Waterbury. The building that now houses this congregation was once a Jewish synagogue. In fact, Harold's brother was married right here.

As you might expect, there were lots of people attending the service. The sanctuary, normally divided in two by a movable wall, was opened to its full size.

Good people draw large crowds and few were as good as Kevin. The place was packed.

The service began and within a few minutes it was my turn to walk to the stage and eulogize Kevin. I speak in public a lot. Crowds don't phase me. Still, this was very different.

I was a nice Jewish boy speaking in the Mormon's place of worship. I didn't want to inadvertently do something wrong.

Kevin's eulogy, based on a web entry I made last week, went well. He was so nice, telling stories about his life couldn't do anything but touch the congregation.

Then, I came to a part of my speech I hadn't fully considered. Standing before this Mormon congregation, I looked at the paper and saw:

I pondered for a second... broadly turned to the church officers sitting behind me and excused myself for what was to come. I was going to say something that had never been said there before.

And then I read the line.

"In March, at a poker table in Las Vegas..." It got a very big laugh.

A laugh at a funeral is different than a laugh at a comedy club. This laugh said, "You are not offending us. Permission granted to continue." And, I did.

It was an honor to be asked to give the eulogy. I sat down satisfied I had properly portrayed Kevin and our relationship.

Later, both his sister and sister-in-law also spoke. Their stories of Kevin's life were priceless and brought new context to things I already knew from personal experience.

These weren't sad speeches. In fact, both of them were very funny and delivered as if these two women were stand-up comics. There was lots of laughter from the crowd. How could you celebrate Kevin without celebrating his amazing spirit?

Can a funeral be perfect? This one was pretty close. There was the structured reverence organized religion brings and the genuine warmth people can only express when there's real love involved.

Don't you think I'd like to be able to pick up the phone and discuss this with Kevin right now? And, of course, that's the tragedy in all this.

Here's the good part. Nothing said tonight would have surprised Kevin. He knew that was how we felt. I take great satisfaction in knowing that.

¹ - I apologize for being a little vague, but I don't know the full structure of the Mormon Church. I did some quick research, but was still left confused.

I think the regional grouping of congregations is a ward and the individual congregation is a branch.

I am avoiding the word church to describe the congregation Kevin attended, because I think (and, again, I don't know) the word "church" is used in a different way by Mormons than, say, Catholics

I've been going to physical therapy, trying to get my leg to feel better. X-rays were negative. The assumption was, inflamed tendons.

OK - that's not medically correct nomenclature, but it's the best I can do. And it generally describes the prevailing wisdom about my leg... until this afternoon.

The physical therapist was perplexed. My leg was not responding to treatment. Even worse, as he'd press and poke, trying to make it hurt¹, the pain was inconsistent. It flared in different places at different times.

Sometimes hitting the same spot twice would cause me to wince followed by no pain at all.

Two points he found that brought pain were associated with two separate tendons. It's unlikely they're both injured. It's got to be something else.

The prevailing wisdom has changed. Maybe it's not tendon related. Maybe it's a hairline fracture that didn't show up on the X-ray. I'm now told that's common.

I'm seeing an orthopedist on Monday. Until then, the only two things I can do for my leg are wrap it in ice and complain.

I'm really good at complaining.

¹ - Now there's a job!

This is a first. For the second day in a row, Helaine and I attended a funeral service. Our neighbor's mother passed away last week and tonight was the service.

We headed to Bridgeport and the Messiah Baptist Church.

Messiah Baptist is a mainly black congregation in what has become a primarily black and Hispanic city. Its service couldn't have been any more different than the Mormon funeral we attended yesterday.

Both sanctuaries were 'clean' in design with little ostentation. The Baptist church featured a large cross and raised rows behind the pulpit for their choir. At the Mormon branch, there was neither. I'm sure that's by design.

The lay ministers at my friend Kevin's funeral were dressed in business suits. The reverend at tonight's service wore a clerical robe. The choir was dressed as well.

I have been to very few black churches, but I anticipated the choir and was not disappointed. The singers were seniors, but their voices were strong and their harmonies tight.

Reverend Elizabeth Jones, who officiated, was an impassioned speaker. It would have been impossible to not pay attention. She was high energy.

Helaine said, you'd never be able to fall asleep at this church! That's the truth.

As with last night, I felt satisfied our neighbor's mom's life had been properly celebrated. She was a known quantity within this church community. The people involved in the service knew her well.

She had been a an active member of the church and part of a family that broke down racial barriers. Reverend Jones called her "a steadfast servant," and explained why, while referencing a short bible passage from Luke.

I am sorry for the deaths that brought us to these funerals, but I really am glad I attended both. It was like amateur anthropology, as I tried to understand how and why things were done in settings that were mostly foreign to me.

In both cases the bottom line was the same. Here is a person who led a righteous life and will now join God. That they both took such different paths to get to the same place was what made it so fascinating.

If it's OK with everyone, I'd like this to be the last funeral for a really long time.

I've got MSNBC on the TV now. It's a live shot, split screen. That means two live cameras, one from a copter, to two satellite transponders, as we await Paris Hilton's return to the 'system'.

I've tried desperately to avoid this story - not just here on the blog, but in person. It's impossible. It's too juicy.

"I want to see the house," said Helaine, speaking directly to our TV screen.

The all-female MSNBC anchor team is starting to get a little catty. Did Paris have a party planned for tonight? Did she need hair and makeup before returning.

Is there anyone rooting for Paris anymore? She is the poster child for spoiled rich kid. Incarceration in your mansion is not the same as serving jail time.

Uh oh... MSNBC, CNN and Fox News have pulled away to cover Defense Secretary Gates' press conference. Where are their priorities¹?

OK - don't answer that.

Neither E! nor CourtTV is covering the re-incarceration. Now we've got problems.

Luckily KCBS-TV in Los Angeles is streaming the video live! And you thought my vast knowledge of call letters was worthless!

This is unreal. Live, on TV, as Paris was being spirited away, a gaggle of press photographers swarmed the car. I was amazed no one was hurt!

This story has drawn me in. It's jumped from 'celebrenews' to real news. Even those organizations who've attemped to keep about the fray will have to add this story to their news budget. I'm talking about you NY Times² and PBS News Hour.

She will always be notorious. The question is, will this be the end of Hilton's commercially exploitable celebrity?

¹ - Uh oh - I'm starting to think like TMZ.com! Take a look at this entry they posted at 1:06 PM. I'm not proud of that.

² - Late this afternoon the Times bit the bullet and ran the story.

I wear a Bluetooth earpiece and I love it. There's really a difference when I'm driving in my car, yapping on the phone, and both hands are on the wheel.

On the other hand, I think there are some places where Bluetooth might not be appropriate. Last night in church, a man walked to the front of the congregation and addressed us all. He was wearing an earpiece and I felt uncomfortable.

Tonight, on TV, another bad Bluetooth moment. Attorney Robert Shapiro was on Countdown with Keith Olbermann wearing a very large Bluetooth earpiece. He has a microphone pinned to his suit, so I haven't confused a necessary TV accessory with cellphone technology.

Will he ask the TV audience to wait while he takes a call? Maybe there's a hidden confederate feeding him answers, ala William Hurt and Holly Hunter in Broadcast News?

Am I behind the times? Is this where we're really headed? Say it isn't so.

Here's the fullscreen capture, if you're so inclined.

Yahoo! has an interesting feature hidden away in the bowels of the site. It's called Yahoo! Pipes. You can create custom feeds using a variety of sources.

I know. That explanation was worthless.

What I wanted to do was see any lenses for sale for my camera (Canon 300D) on both eBay and Craigslist. I tried to filter out the worthless crap that's often listed alongside 'real' lenses.

Here's what you get.

If you're interested, here's how I did it.

I'm not sure what the real utility of this is, but life's a learning experience.

Sure, you're thinking geofffox.com is just a stupid personal blog. OK - bad choice of words on my part.

Actually, it's much more. Geofffox.com sets the trend for the glitteratti. Take Kanye West's 30^th birthday party. Where have we seen this before?

Here's what TMZ.com wrote:

Here's what I posted November 2, 2005:

While I was on vacation, I got an email from Steffie in school. She and her roommate, Kayla, had acquired a fish.

Steffie is the Dr. Jack Kevorkian of fish fanciers. It's not her fault I'm sure, but sooner or later (mostly sooner) they end up on the top of the tank.

As you can see, the fish has a name, "Kayne."

I guessed the fish was named after Kanye West... which begged the question, was the fish's name misspelled?

It wasn't long before a corrected picture flew through the Internet. It is Kanye!

I wish Kanye a long and healthy life, swimming and entertaining in the dorm. But Kanye, don't enter into any long term contracts. You know what I mean?

Kanye the fish made it through the first year of college. Alas, he is no longer matriculating.

I've beaten this dead horse a dozen times... but in case you're a new reader, the Space Shuttle scares me. I don't think we (currently) need to risk people's lives to explore space. On top of that, much of the mission of the Space Shuttle and International Space Station is worthless.

Yesterday, NASA revealed a little problem with some thermal insulation.

There's no doubt, this story is being played down in Houston. NASA placed the news halfway through the last of seven paragraphs in today's press release:

NASA seems assured. The insulation shouldn't be a problem. This has happened before.

That, of course, is what was said by NASA when a 'small' piece of insulation broke off and hit the shuttle during Columbia's launch. The very same thing had happened before.

Columbia disintegrated as it plunged into the Earth's atmosphere in preparation for landing. Seven astronauts were killed and the space program put on hold.

I'm not saying NASA's characterization is wrong. However, they probably know less than they're letting on.

This insulation protects a surface that 'only' warms to around 1,000º Fahrenheit - much less heat than Columbia's ruptured skin faced. Is it critical to the aerodynamics of the shuttle as it hurtles back toward Earth? Only NASA knows... or, by later today, only NASA will have an educated guess.

With all their detailed checks and rechecks, how the hell could this happen?

The shuttle is extremely complex and inherently dangerous. The more times we fly the fleet, the more problems we'll face. The shuttle fleet has gotten old. Atlantis (flying now) was delivered in 1985.

It's been 46 years since Americans first sent a man to space. It's time the government stepped away. Space exploration demands the kind of creative thinking and agility NASA can no longer provide.

This is not the kind of business government is suited to run.

It was cloudy for much of the afternoon, which gave me an idea. As I was heading to the shower, I detoured out the front door. There, I placed my new $30 camcorder on the ground, facing up.

I showered, dressed and forgot it was there. Forty some odd minutes later, I went outside to retrieve it.

It only took a moment to move the video file from the camcorder, and a few minutes more to speed it up to make my time lapse.

Here's the finished product. It's not Earth shattering... except when you realize the universal availability of the technology to do this.

Don't send flowers.

I visited the orthopedist this morning, over at Orthopedia Factory Outlet. Following the current trend in medicine, this place is volume, volume, volume. The practice has over a dozen doctors!

That being said, I can't complain about my treatment. A nice woman took my medical info (three pages, including one question that asked my hobbies - I didn't answer that one) and co-pay. Co-pay first, medicine second.

Another nice woman (showing her pregnancy enough that I asked when she was due with no fear of being wrong) took me to a small examining room in the back. I was asked to don a pair of paper shorts! Really? I'd never seen these before.

Note to doctors: Better magazines, please.

The orthopod, a pleasant, young, tall, attractive woman, examined my leg and ordered up X-rays. Truth is, after she squeezed the leg and asked the right questions, we both knew it was a fracture. The X-rays only confirmed the obvious.

So, I'm in a boot. Friends had mentioned the probability of a boot earlier and I visualized what it was. Wrong!

Held together with Velcro straps, the boot covers my leg from the toes all the way up to my knee. For the next six weeks I'll be wearing it (and will also be incapable of sneaking up on anyone) except while in bed or the shower. It is much better (from my standpoint) than a cast.

For the next six weeks I will mercilessly wear out my right shoe while leaving the left in the closet.

At least I'm on my way to healing and, of course, that's the part that's most important.

A friend emailed me the ad you see on the left. It's for a new reality program on the TV Guide Channel, "Making News - Texas Style".

Yeah, it surprised me too. I thought they only ran character generated listings.

The ad scared me. Some people already look upon us TV types as shallow or trivial. This won't help.

That ad represents everything superficial TV news can be with none of the substance. I'm not saying we're teaching college level courses on-the-air, but there really is more than pageant winners and cat fighting in the newsroom.

Actually, I can't guarantee the ad's copywriter saw the show, because "Making News - Texas Style" was a lot closer to this reserved blurb in a TV Guide press release.

Will anyone be interested... if they can even find the show? Does the audience have to make an immediate connection with the participants for it to work? I'm not a big reality show fan, so I don't know, but I didn't.

Part of the reason I felt a little empty was the astounding percentage of pad or repeated content used. Everything that was told, was told again - often multiple times. And though that might work for compelling stories, these were not.

This show is scheduled to run 13 episodes. They're using 'newsroom helper' already! I can't imagine what episode 9 or 10 will bring.

I will watch again next Monday; the DVR's already set. Right now, "Making News - Texas Style" is on life support at my house.

I am grateful to all of you who wrote me earlier today when my site was, temporarily, loaded with links to porn sites. It happens more often than you'd think. A large part of my job as webmaster is purging this dreck.

What you saw was the result of 'comment spamming.' It's a method for illicit websites to add value by using my 'status' with Google, Yahoo! and others.

There is some rudimentary protection installed on this web server. A program call MT-Blacklist looks at every comment entered, checking what you type against an ever increasing list of words and urls. Currently, there are 1855 forbidden entries. That's crazy!

Sometimes the blacklist is too broad, keeping you from entering totally innocent comments. Other times obvious garbage is missed. Fighting comment spam is tough because the spammers are willing to blindly throw hundreds and hundreds of links with the thought a few will stick.

Anyway, today's problems are gone and I apologize if you were treated to words or concepts you found offensive. There are ways to stop the problem, but I don't want to inhibit the conversation.

Helaine sent me a link a few minutes ago. Don Herbert, Mr. Wizard, has died.

Here's what I wrote about him three years ago.

Don Herbert had a profound influence on my formative years. He was "American Idol" for many 1950's nerds. He'll be missed.

Today is day three of wearing the boot for my fractured fibula¹. It's not that awful.

Maybe I won't feel this way after week three, but today it's no worse than bothersome.

I'm no doctor (and humanity is glad of that), but doesn't this thing replace a cast? I can't imagine that. I can remove the boot and bathe without a plastic bag and even sleep barelegged.

I still haven't figured out what to do when it rains. It is after all an open toed boot.

Though quite stiff, it's totally made of plastic. The sole is thick rubber, like the bottom of a sneaker for LeBron James bigger brother. Inside is a sock-like sleeve to keep the boot from chaffing my delicate foot and leg.

I have been wearing a white athletic sock on my left foot and a regular dress sock on my right. When all this is over, I will have a half pair of worn out shoes!

It is all held together with Velcro. Earlier, I counted the points where Velcro met Velcro on the boot - 7! Specifically there are five straps plus two closures on the 'sleeve'.

The two main problems are keeping the Velcro from getting tangled up in itself and keeping this quiet while Helaine is sleeping. There is Velcro generated noise with every step and loud noise as I pull the strips apart to take it off for the night.

As I said, today it's not too bad. I'll revisit the boot if and when things change.

¹ - I originally wrote tibia. Helaine thought that was wrong and took a look at the diagnosis on a medical form I'd received. Both bones are in close proximity in the lower leg.

I just took an online quiz which tries to find what American accent I speak with. The results are below. Considering I was raised in New York City and have lived in Connecticut 23 years, the results aren't too shabby!

I'm curious if that was a lucky stab, or real. If you take the test, will you please leave a comment telling me how you did?

I am an impatient driver. I drive too fast. Right turn on red was made for me.

I also take advantage of a little known law: "left turn on red."

Stop laughing. I'm not kidding. Here's what Wikipedia says:

Pretty cool, huh? And, it makes sense. One way to one way left on red is no more perilous than right on red.

There's one particular left on red I often make. It's at the intersection of College Street and South Frontage Road (Rte 34) in New Haven. I've been doing it for years to the amazement of passengers, including my own skeptical family. It only saves a few seconds, but who cares? That's not the point.

I happened to stumble upon an article about left on red tonight. It was serendipity... and being the 'left on red' man, I read along.

Really?

I am so embarrassed! And, I am so relieved to learn about this by reading, as opposed to learning about it from a cop!

I look forward to some public appearances more than others. Tonight was a 'look forward to' event. I was asked to introduce an operatic performance on the New Haven Green.

Scratch the Green. Too chilly. The New Haven Symphony Orchestra doesn't perform outside when the temperature drops below 65º. Can you blame them?

Unfortunately, that shrinks the house somewhat.

This was to be part of New Haven's International Festival of Arts and Ideas. Though some 'big' commercial acts play, it is mostly smaller performances across many genres.

A crowd of thousands sees these opera performances on the Green. Tonight, we were moved inside to Yale's University Theater - one of many performance spots on the Yale University campus. The theater sits a little over 600.

With my leg still sitting inside the Velcro fastened boot, I asked for special parking dispensation. The organizers of the event had no pull, but the Yale Police (yes, they have their own police department - guns and everything) was extremely helpful. A motorcycle officer blocked off a space right alongside the theater with a wooden sawhorse.

An opera crowd is quite eclectic. They are likely to know what they're getting into. I sense there are few casual opera fans and many rabid ones.

By the time I arrived, a line had already formed, stretching down York Street toward Broadway. This part of New Haven, surrounded by the Yale campus is really beautiful. The buildings are very stately... very Yale.

As the crowd stood, a group of street performers from the Meter Theater began to put on a show. I was too busy taking pictures to really follow what was going on, but the crowd got into it.

Finally the doors opened and the crowd moved in. I headed backstage, standing with (but having no contact with) tonight's performers. I knew who they were by the tiny stage mics which curled from their ears.

On stage the New Haven Symphony was tuning up. This is quite an accomplished orchestra and I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy watching them get limber by playing exercises and running scales.

A live performance of classical music is so powerful, even someone who is not a fan will still enjoy. I can't explain it, except to say it can be unexpectedly overpowering.

The curtain was scheduled for 8:00 PM, but as is often the case, it was held for 8:05. I walked to the front of the stage, crossed the apron and walked down a few stairs to the narrator's microphone. There was a polite smattering of applause.

I welcomed them to Opera on the Green and then looked around at the surroundings. "Damn weatherman," I said. Nice laugh.

I read a little from the prepared script I'd be given and then looked up for some remarks of my own. I don't have my exact words, so let me paraphrase.

"I'm thrilled to be with you tonight, but I am a little embarrassed. I mean, it's wonderful to see this great opera... but I accepted this thinking I was introducing Oprah." Big laugh.

That little joke had been a bone of contention in the Fox house and at work where my friends and family were sure it would bomb. I told it anyway. I'm glad I did.

I did the rest of the intro for the performance. Most of it had been written by others, but I threw in a little mention of Milton Cross, who used to host the Texaco Metropolitan Opera Broadcasts, and who I knew this crowd would relate to. I also added some historical context to the actual operetta to be performed, "Orpheus in the Underworld," which was originally panned by the critics back in 1858.

As I walked toward the back of the house, the actual narrator took his place and the orchestra began to play. Though the opera was written by Offenbach, a German by birth, it was written in French and first performed in Paris.

As the singers, all Yale students, performed, an English translation flashed on a huge screen behind the orchestra.

I'm not going to claim to be an opera fan. But, what I saw tonight was very entertaining, especially an amazing young soprano singing the part of Eurydice. I have searched everywhere, but cannot find her name nor the names of anyone in the cast!

With two more newscasts to go, I had to leave while the performance was underway. I was sorry to go... even if Oprah wasn't there.

Stef is away today, celebrating the graduation of one of her sorority sisters. Helaine and I decided to go to the movies tonight.

We headed to the Criterion in New Haven for Waitress, starring Keri Russell.

The movie is the story of a waitress, in a loveless marriage, who finds herself both unwontedly pregnant and in love with her married gynecologist.

I suppose this is what's called a small movie. It is heavily dependent on its very stylized look and really sharp cast. The story is simple and sweet

The movie itself is set in a small, seemingly downscale southern town. Much of the action takes place at a diner which specializes in pies - many expertly baked by Jenna (Keri Russell).

Andy Griffith (around my dad's age, but looking much older) is excellent as Old Joe, the owner of the diner. More importantly, he is the uninvited elder philosopher in Jenna's life. He will receive an Oscar nomination for this role.

I'm not sure how to explain this, but Earl (Jeremy Sisto), Jenna's husband, is the least appealing (most repulsive) character I've ever seen in a film, without resorting to over-the-top characterization. He was just realistically creepy - not an easy task.

Helaine noticed Jenna's love interest, Dr. Pomatter (Nathan Fillion) looked like a young Mike Sechrist. Mike's a friend of mine.

I enjoyed this movie. Helaine enjoyed it even more. That's probably going to be typical of many couples. It was a great Saturday afternoon date with my wife and a borderline chick flick.

Footnote:We like going to the movies, and this theater is nice and new. However, the print we saw was terrible. Here is the note I sent to the company that owns the theater.

My wife and I saw the 4:00 PM Saturday showing of Waitress at your New Haven theater. We like going to the movies and we're glad you're in New Haven. We're glad the city is coming back and drove past another theater to get to you.

Unfortunately, the print for Waitress was horrendous. There were horizontal scratches visible for the entire show.

When I told a friend, he described the exact same scratches when he had seen Dreamgirls. Is there some sort of equipment problem in your theater that's killing the prints?

I'm not asking for a refund. All I want to know is, you've gotten my message and you'll fix the problem.

All the best,
Geoff Fox

Here's their response:

This was a great Father's Day. Our little family is in an excellent place. We actually enjoy being with each other!

Oh, sure, laugh. If you've never had a teenage daughter, you just can't understand. Maybe... just maybe, those trying days as the father of a teen are behind me. She is, after all, now 20.

Stef was on Long Island for a party last night, but came home bright and early this morning. I woke up and headed downstairs for cards and gifts.

This will sound like a lie. It is not. The cards were the best part - especially this year's card from Steffie. It's not that it was sentimental or sappy. It just reflected the nature of our relationship. That touched me deeply.

I wonder if she's reached the age where she'll understand sentiment trumps anything you can buy in a store?

"Father's Day Man" had gotten the word early on and came through with a new lens for "Clicky." It's a Sigma 10-20mm. If you're a non-camera type it's the opposite of a telephoto - a wide lens.

Wide lenses have a very large field of view. They really good for capturing large things in small areas, like buildings in Manhattan or broad landscapes. I shot a few test pictures and was pleased. This lens will get a lot of use.

Steffie added to the camera theme with a Gorillapod. It is a tripod, a little under 10" tall. The legs are a series of flexible joints that bend and rotate 360°. Right now it's on a table on our back deck, pointing up at the stars for a long time lapse shot.

In the ads, the Gorillapod is shown wrapped around trees and lightposts. It looks pretty versatile.

It's a little big for my camera bag, but I've already fashioned a way to carry it with some cable wraps and a carabiner.

Finally, Helaine and Stef got me a battery operated helicopter. It is small enough to fit on the palm of your hand and, so far, uncontrollable by me! I'll continue to fly it later.

Along with the gifts, the girls took me to brunch in Branford. I'm not going to mention the name of the place because 1) we're not going back 2) we waited a half hour past our reservation before we were seated.

They had called yesterday to confirm our reservation, so it's not like they didn't realize they'd be crowded on Father's Day. If I came in a half hour late for my reservation, would they be happy with me?

The food was OK, but that wait got to me... Oh, they also charged to refill Helaine and Stef's juice. C'mon. It was a pricey brunch. We had passed on mimosas and champagne.

All things considered, it was a great Father's Day. Possibly the best ever. Like I said, sentiment trumps all!

I just spoke with my friend Harvey. He's sitting in Ben Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv, Israel.

I wouldn't have known Harvey was away, except he saw me, sitting here in Connecticut, my Instant Messenger client open.

He mentioned someone in the conversation but wasn't sure I knew who he was talking about. So, he sent a photo. We directly connected via IM. It didn't matter that he was sitting at a Mac, while this laptop used Windows. It didn't matter if either of us was technically adept.

I'm not bragging , You've probably done, or are doing, similar things on your computer.

When I step out on my back porch, I can 'see' a half dozen other wireless networks (most unencrypted). This is a neighborhood of 1+ acre lots. That's a lot of connectivity... a lot of perceived value in networked computing.

It's amazing the technology exists, is reasonably priced and widely available.

It's not that my grandfather never expected to be doing this kind of stuff. He could not have even imagined device like the ones we're using.

Could you have imagined Google 15 years ago?

All those prediction of the future I saw as a kid... those Jetson's apartment towers and flying cars.... None of that's reality. The information society we do have was never demoed to me.

Harvey will be home later today. Maybe I'll track his flight.

I left home today with my camera bag over my shoulder. The stated purpose was to show Adam, one of our editors, the new lens. No Adam today.

My picture taking started right away. No sooner was I off our street, than I pulled into a neighbor's driveway. Most days as I pass, I sneak a peek at his flowers. Today I stopped and snapped a few images.

This type of photography might not be the strong suit for this lens. I was going to try anyway.

The real beauty of wide angle photography is fitting a lot more into the frame. That is done at the expense of size and linearity. Everything a wide angle sees is smaller than it would be with a longer lens and parallel lines are no longer parallel... or straight!

Here's a little sample of what I shot. Nothing special. Nothing Earth shattering. I'm just trying to get a feel for the lens.

When I sat down in front of the computer last night and checked the DVR, waiting for me was episode two of "Making News - Texas Style." This is the TV Guide Channel reality show about a local TV newsroom in Midland, TX.

I wasn't sure I'd watch number two after number one. I'm not sure I'll watch number three after number two.

"Are we that superficial," I asked in a quick email to a friend who was recording it too?

The problem with the newsroom being shown in this Cinéma Vérité treat is, there's no one (with the possible exception of the news director) with any intellectual depth. Stories are covered superficially by superficial people.

So far I've watched a sweet and somewhat overweight reporter anguish over her assignment to track her own weight loss through dancing, the story of a lowlife thug who claimed (falsely) to have killed two people and a basketball game organized by a local college, pitting 'the media' against the Hooters girls.

Back at the station the angst centers on the 62 year old anchor who is about to be replaced by a younger guy brought in from the competition. I feel bad for him because I suspect he has no future doing what he's done for decades

There is gawking news covered, but nothing so far that educates or enlightens. I've seen nothing discussed that could vaguely be considered an 'issue'.

Maybe it's apropos, the TV station featured in this series is physically located in a mall. Now that's synergy!

There's a chance I may end up passing on this show and committing my time to "Ice Road Truckers," on The History Channel. That these two shows can even be compared is sad.

I came home from work, slipped into something more comfortable (I've watched Doris Day movies) and plopped myself on the sofa in the family room. I had powered up the laptop on earlier as I walked by on my way upstairs.

I like my multimedia multi! I turned the TV on too.

It was already tuned to Cartoon Network. Their nighttime programming is called "Adult Swim." The program on, "Robot Chicken."

Wow. Obviously, no drug testing going on there.

I'm not 100% sure if I hit it at the right time, or if this show is really as crazily off-the-wall funny as it seemed. Fast, biting, hysterical ridiculous and terribly animated - they all apply.

There is no way anyone would ever have told me about this show. I am so far removed from its target demo. I probably have no friends who watch it. I could have only stumbled upon it accidentally.

That, unfortunately, states a sad truth. After 50 years, we have moved away from the universal experience that was TV. Sure, there's still broadcasting, but there are even more outlets for narrowcasting.

The Ed Sullivan Show, where kids would sit through adult acts in order to be there for some kid oriented shtick, will never happen again. From the perspective of the person wielding the remote control, others are no longer accommodated in front of the TV set.

The days of an entire family watching together are over. I may sit down while Stef has something on, but we have hardly any favorite shows we share.

She never watches the all news channels or sports, and I don't watch Food Network, E!, MTV or VH1. I hardly recognize any of the shows she DVRs... though I'm sure I'd disapprove.

Will our society be the worse for it? You learn a lot about someone when you watch them watch TV. Parents and children will know now even less about each other's sensibilities.

My homebuilt MythTV DVR uses zap2it to fill its database with program listings. It's a free service and I was never sure why Tribune Media (zap2it's owner) provided it.

Today, zap2it said they're stopping the service - free or otherwise!

My DVR is great, but a significant part of the value is derived from having this incredibly complete searchable database.

Hopefully, those brighter than me will find a solution. If not... well, I'm just not sure.

It's been fascinating to follow the speculation over the last few days as New York City's Mayor, Michael Bloomberg, switched from Republican to Independent. Is he thinking of running for president?

Though Bloomberg has said "no," the speculation persists. The 24 hour news cycle must be fed. Even I'm not above speculating (and it's not like I had to write about this... I could have told you about the two suits I bought today).

Bloomberg is an interesting guy. A self made billionaire, he still rides the subway to work. When he goes away for the weekend, taking his own jet to his own hideaway, he tells the press where he's going and what he's doing is none of their business. He's a bachelor¹. He's Jewish.

If Mitt Romney's religious affiliation has been a concern, how can Bloomberg's not be? I'm Jewish and I'm surprised there hasn't been any discussion of his religion.

There's no doubt New York has flourished under Bloomberg. He speaks freely, which New Yorkers appreciate. He is not a fence straddler.

He is the guy, who after a plot to bomb Kennedy Airport was unveiled, said:

My sense is, if Michael Bloomberg were president, we wouldn't be seeing the same kind of TSA presence at our airports we see now. Maybe I'd be able to bring a soda on the plane.

All that being said, can an independent win a presidential election?

Teddy Roosevelt ran as one, and lost. That election pushed the Republican Party to the right and got Woodrow Wilson elected. Ralph Nader ran, helping George Bush get elected.

Neither John Anderson, H. Ross Perot, Ralph Nader nor any other independent has won an electoral vote in my lifetime. However, any time a strong independent runs, he siphons votes from the established party closest to his viewpoint.

What kind of sway would an independent hold over Congress? Presidents extract concessions from the legislative branch because they hold a big political stick. An independent would have no such schlep.

If there's any group of people who should welcome a Bloomberg candidacy, it would be the owners of radio and television stations. A three way race would put states into play that probably won't be contested in a straight Republican-Democrat race. Connecticut is on that list.

Meanwhile, Bloomberg's still saying "no." If the guy is such a straight shooter, why does no one believing him?

¹ - I originally, incorrectly, wrote Bloomberg was a lifelong bachelor. David Laufbaum's comment corrected that.

Over time, more and more people have taken to calling me Mr. Fox. It's a little disturbing, because I don't want to be that old.

I usually tell them, "My name is Geoff. Mr Fox lives in a condo in Florida."

Of course Mr. is the least of the titles you can have with your name. You could be Dr., or Rev., or Senator, or... well the list is nearly endless.

A few years ago, while perusing the British Airways website I came across their choice of titles. I saw the list cited today on another website and thought I'd post it here - just for fun.

Some are so obscure, I have no idea what they could possibly be. I do know, few holders of these titles will ever be flying with me in Row 39, aft of the wing.

Click the list and choose a title. They're free.