Tag: Chicago

Getting Set For The Parade

I’ll be ABC NewsOne’s ‘liveshot boy’ at the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade in New York. My first hit is between 4:30 and 5:00 AM on World News Now. After that I’ll be doing a series of custom live shots for ABC affiliates across the country.

I’m really looking forward to it and anticipate a good, though cold, time.

Here’s how I had planned it. Eat dinner. Go home. Go to bed. Wake up at 12:30 AM for my 1:15 AM departure.

That plan failed!

It’s tough to hit the sack at 8:00 when you didn’t get out of bed until after 11:00 AM. I did ‘force myself’ to nap by 8:30 or so, but was up at 11:11.

Hey, a little sleep is better than none at all.

I’ve already been in touch with the ‘mothership&#185’ and read a ‘scratch’ track over the phone. This will allow the editor to put together a story which I will introduce in the morning.

Once I get to Manhattan, I’ll read the same words again, with better audio quality than you can get over my cellphone. That’s the audio that will go home.

ABC originally offered to put me up in a hotel. I thought it would be better if they sent a car… and they are sending one.

I could BS about how having a car pick me up isn’t a little decadent, but who would believe that? Truthfully, it will really come in handy on the way home when I will undoubtedly be bleary eyed.

Sometime later, I’ll write why driving your own car is almost always better than going by limo. Meanwhile, it’s off to the shower to get ready. By the time I’m ready to go, I’ll have more layers on than a wedding cake – it’s going to be cold and wet out there.

&#185 – That term for ABC’s headquarters came to me from Antonio Mora, who I worked with on GMA/Sunday and who is now anchoring in Chicago. One of the brightest, nicest people ever. I am so jealous.

The Cracker Barrel Experience

Helaine was away this past weekend, at concerts in Illinois and Indiana. She and her friend Renata put a few hundred miles on a rental car out of Chicago.

As they drove through the countryside (certainly beyond the edge of civilization) they looked for a spot to eat. Somehow, early in the trip, they ended up at Cracker Barrel.

For the uninitiated (and until an hour ago, that included me) Cracker Barrel is a chain of absolutely identical kitschy restaurants with a country flavor. In the Disneyworld tradition, the only way in or out is through a gift shop!

Helaine ate her first meal and immediately picked up the cellphone. The food was so good… and unhealthy. It was fried and gravied and breaded beyond belief. It was yummy.

On her quick weekend trip she paid three visits to Cracker Barrel! Thank heavens she took a cholesterol test the week before she went.

As you might imagine, Helaine was anxious to get me to share the experience (and, selfishly, return for dinner herself). Tonight was our night, because as it turns out, there’s a Cracker Barrel in Milford just off the Turnpike.

Somehow we had gone through 21 years in Connecticut without seeing more than this restaurant’s sign, sitting high above the Interstate. We had directions, but even then it was a little anti-intuitive. You really had to know where you were going.

We turned into the parking lot, driving past the sign showing buses and RVs where to park. As we walked in, Patsy Cline’s “Walking After Midnight” was playing on the ceiling mounted speakers. A group from “Christian Tours” was lining up to pay and leave.

We were escorted to the back room. In the Midwest, this room was a smoking section. Not so in polite New England, where smoking is prohibited pretty much everywhere… certainly everywhere food is served.

Helaine ordered the “Chicken Fried Chicken” and I had an egg and meat platter. I know it’s sacreligous there, but I am still watching my weight.

While waiting, we played a little game, left on the table, with a rectangular piece of wood and plastic golf tees stuffed in holes. The object of the game was to do better than either of us did!

The food came quickly and was pretty good. My eggs arrived with whole wheat toast which allegedly has only 7 net grams of carbohydrates. Helaine’s chicken came with some sort of gooey, sugary, baked apple concoction and gravy thick enough to caulk a bathtub.

Overhead classic country played continuously.

We finished, got up and began to leave. As we did, the table to our side all let out, “Hi Geoff.” Ratted out again!

Dinner for the two of us was around $20 including the rectangular golf tee game Helaine bought to take home.

I suppose if I made the suggestion, Helaine would go back tomorrow night too.

Sunday in Fall River and Fenway

Sunday’s are for sleeping late, but not this Sunday. It was road trip time with my friend Bob. So, I was up before the crack of 8:00!

OK – I know that’s sleeping in for most people. Remember, I live in the east, but operate on Hawaiian time.

We stopped for a quick container of coffee, dropped my car off at New Haven’s Union Station and headed eastward on the Connecticut Turnpike. Because the Turnpike is also I-95, this east-west route has signs referring to north and south.

It still drives me nuts!

Saturday night late, I had received this cryptic little email from another Bob friend, in Florida.

HVN: Temp: 80F Dewpt 78F

midnight

amazing

78&#176 for a dewpoint temperature represents Calcutta-like steam. It was very warm and very sticky Saturday night and nothing, except the Sun beaming down, had changed by Sunday morning.

With a Google generated map and directions in hand, we headed toward Somerset, MA and WSAR, scene of one of Bob’s earliest jobs and my first. There was never any thought that 36 years after my last time there, WSAR had moved. In fact, the only question was, how much was still the same?

In a poetic, romantic world, I’d now tell you about all the memories that rushed back to me as we drove up. The truth is, I could only vaguely make a connection. That surprised me.

The building is the same. It’s at the end of Home Street, on the edge of a neighborhood of modest homes. Beyond WSAR’s field of towers, a huge power plant poked out through the very thick haze.

Amazingly, someone was at the station. We think he was the manager of what now is a little mom and pop two station facility. WSAR is news, talk and sports. Its sister station, formerly WALE is all Portuguese.

The inside of the building had been changed, as you might expect after all this time. The man at the station told us to walk around and take a look.

We didn’t stay long.

I think Bob got more out of this than I did. I wish I would have made more of a connection with my past. Working at WSAR was such a seminal moment in my professional life.

Heading north, we stopped at a mall in Taunton for breakfast/lunch and then proceeded to Boston. It was very hazy. Nothing about the Boston skyline that was distinct. Everything was sort of placed within the murkiness.

We maneuvered up Storrow Drive, off at Arlington Street and then across Back Bay to a garage under the Prudential Center. I thought it would be a good idea to park at the Pru and then take the subway&#185 to Fenway.

We got to the platform only to see signs cautioning that no dollar bills would be accepted on the train. The three token machines were not working. There was no token clerk. What to do?

We popped back up at street level and walked into the Colonnade Hotel. Most business are bothered by subway change seekers and I understand why. But, we really needed the change, so I did everything I could to look like a touristy hotel guest. Having my camera slung over my shoulder didn’t hurt.

Oh, by the way… contrary to the many posted signs, you can use dollar bills on the subway. The driver puts them in a slot on the side of the change machine. I have no idea what happens to them at the end of the run.

It didn’t take long to get to Fenway. It is just beyond the Mass Pike, a few blocks from Kenmore Square. The neighborhood looks like it was industrial – the buildings have that kind of feel.

Crowds of happy people (the Red Sox are in first, after all) were heading toward the stadium.

Immediately, I began to sense a different vibe than I had felt at Yankee Stadium. Maybe it was the fact you could see the stadium as you approached it or the banners on its brick exterior? Maybe it was the cluster of stores across the street?

Whatever it was, it was not Yankee Stadium. Since Yankee Stadium was a disappointment, this was a good thing.

We found a man selling tickets and lucked into great seats. The luck wasn’t the site lines or distance from home plate – both of those were what we expected and quite good. The luck was being under cover in the grandstand, as you shall see.

We walked through a security screening and into a throng of people moving past the concession stands. It felt good. I don’t know why. It felt right. It was old and cramped but totally appropriate in a way Yankee Stadium was not.

We walked into the stands and gazed at the stadium. It’s a gem. The stadium has a small feel to it. And, I guess next to a 50-60,000 seat park, it is. Our seats were up the first base line, directly opposite from the green monster.

I was pleased to see restraint in the advertising signs on that big, green wall. They were all green and white. They fit in.

The first inning was rocky for the Red Sox. They finally retired the White Sox without a run, but it was obvious Matt Clement wasn’t throwing his best stuff.

There would be plenty of time to think about that, because as the first half inning ended, the heavens open, accompanied by deep throated thunder.

How glad was I, at this moment, that our seats were under cover? We watched as most of the lower deck and other exposed seats cleared out.

Within a few seconds the players and umps had left the field and the grounds crew was in charge, covering the base cutout and pitcher’s mound and unrolling the tarp.

This is something I had seen on TV, but never in person. The tarp is immense, covering the entire infield and skinned areas of the field. It went on quickly.

As a meteorologist (Wow, I can now refer to myself that way), I was concerned that they were placing themselves in harm’s way during the storm. You would expect a lightning strike to hit a light tower or other taller structure… but it could easily strike someone on the field, or in the stands, I guess.

It rained as hard as I’ve ever seen. Sheets of rain poured down. Most people moved to shelter. Others, resigned to getting soaked, stayed where the were.

At one point, security guards on the field were issued yellow slickers. By this time they were already soaked to the bone. I tried to figure out the value of this late move? By this point, the slickers were just holding in the moisture already there.

The rains stopped and the crew came back to remove the tarp. Now, what was heavy was heavier. The tarp was loaded with water.

By folding the tarp over itself and moving back and forth, the grounds crew was able to deposit most of the water just beyond the base paths in shallow right field. Then a groundskeeper reached down and began pulling plugs from the turf, opening drains to carry the water away.

This was nearly as good a show as the game!

Play resumed, but it wasn’t to be the Red Sox day. They were getting pummeled by Chicago. And then, it began to rain again.

We stayed a while and then, remembering there was a 6:40 train to Connecticut or a three hour wait until the one after that at 9:40, we left. Bob got off near his car and I continued, first on the Green Line and then the Red Line to South Station.

South Station is open and airy with kiosks for food, books and magazines. The ceiling and walls are largely populated by ads for Apple’s iPod. As much as I thought the green and white ads at Fenway were appropriate, I felt this was not… and I’m an iPod fan.

I went to a ticket machine to pay my way but all it wanted to sell me was a ticket at 9:40. I moved to a real person behind the counter. He gave me the bad news. The 6:40 train was sold out!

This wasn’t good. But, there was nothing I could do, yet. I got a salad, sat between a woman and her loud toddler son and a homeless person who seemed to be nodding off, and had dinner.

As train time approached, I moved toward the platform. Maybe there was someone based in New Haven on this train? Maybe I could talk my way on?

I ran into a conductor. He was from Boston, there was no doubt from his accent. I told him my plight and he said, “Don’t worry, you can sit in the Club Car.”

Easier said than done. He went to work on the train as I waited for the platform to be opened for passengers. When it finally was, my ticket was for the wrong train. They wouldn’t let me pass to get to the Club Car.

I began to panic. I was tired, extremely sweaty and I imagine quite pungent. I didn’t want to spend the next three hours at South Station.

I did something I have promised myself never to do. I took out my business card, handed it to one of the security people and asked her to ask one of the crew members (who all, except for the Club Car conductor were from New Haven) if they could help me.

Maybe I’m justifying what I’ve already done, but I thought I worded my request in such a way that it didn’t go over my imaginary line. It wasn’t a, “Don’t you know who I am” request. Well, it didn’t seem like one at the time.

As it turns out, a very nice conductor traveling with his family took mercy on me. He got me past security and onto the train. And, during the course of the trip I got to meet everyone who was “working on the railroad, all the livelong day.”

Here’s the more amazing corollary to this story. The sold out train couldn’t have been more than half full! Why did Amtrak think it was full and refuse to sell tickets? I have no idea. I would guess I wasn’t the only one prepared to spend another three hours in Boston… and some people probably did.

So, there’s the Boston trip… except for one little thing. As it turns out, after we left, the Red Sox waited and waited and waited and finally postponed the game. My two tickets are eligible to be replaced with tickets for another game.

I’m looking forward to returning to Fenway.

&#185 – I guess it officially fits the definition of subway, but Boston’s Green Line is just trolleys in a tube with some of the ugliest, dingiest stations ever seen by man. I have no doubt I was safe and never felt otherwise. It was just the subway time forgot.

Busy Day On The Radio

Our station’s promotion department was wondering, would I be able to go to WPLR and be on the radio with Chaz and AJ… and, oh – can you be there by 7:00 AM?

I so wanted to say “no,” but decided it was better to be a team player. Seven in the morning is early for lots of people, but I normally don’t wake up until the crack of noon. This would be way before my normal waking time.

I got home and went to sleep ‘early’ last night – around 1:00 AM. By 3:30, my body said, “nice nap” and I was awake. A little time on the couch, on my side and I was back to sleep until the alarm went off at 6:00 AM.

If you normally wake up that time of day, I do not envy you.

I hit the road by 6:30 and stopped at Starbucks before getting on the parkway. Memo to Starbucks: You are not Dunkin’ Donuts. I’m sure you’re nice people, good to your parents, but your coffee is too strong. Above and beyond that, I don’t want to have to say “grande” to get a medium&#185.

WPLR is located in a nice mid-rise office building in a quiet area in Milford. They are owned by Cox and share space with Star 99.9 and WYBC (though much of WYBC’s programming is syndicated and doesn’t originate in Connecticut).

The studios are very nice and modern. AJ and Chaz sat on opposite sides of the console with Chaz ‘driving.’ Billy Winn, who had come downstairs to let me in, was at a corner of the desk.

I’ve known Chaz for years since I used to go on his show over the phone when he did nights there. We sat and schmoozed for about an hour. I thought it went pretty well. During a break Helaine called to tell me if I wanted to sound hip, I’d need to stop making references to people who were famous forty years ago.

Why is she always right?

As is always the case when I’m in a studio, I became enamored with the freedom to speak your mind on the radio – especially morning radio. It’s not that I said anything profound or controversial. It’s just that I could say anything with little forethought.

When my hour was up, I took off the headphones, said goodbye and began to make my way out of the building. It was then I decided to see if I could have a “Bob Hope moment.”

Back in the Johnny Carson Tonight Show era, every once in a while, right in the middle of an interview, the band would begin to play “Thanks for the Memories” and Bob Hope would stroll out to the set. It wasn’t planned. Johnny never knew. If Bob was in the neighborhood, he had carte blanche to walk right in.

I walked into the Star 99.9 studio.

The morning show with john Harper and Randye Kaye was in progress. There was no “Thanks for the Memories,” but without missing a beat John started talking to me (even before Randye realized I was in the studio) and we were off to the races. I probably stayed for 15-20 minutes.

I’ll admit it. I’m still a sucker for radio. Heck, I would have walked into WYBC if not for the fact that Tom Joyner’s show comes from Chicago.

&#185 – Forcing me to speak your language also goes to the rootin’ tootin’ folks at Denny’s. Sorry.

Who Came Here In 2004

Last year, on December 31, I posted a little summary of what happened on this website in the previous year. I just looked back and was amazed how things have changed. The number of people and unattended, researching, web crawling computers, has increased greatly.

The content hasn’t changed. It’s the same drivel I’ve posted here since day one. This blog is nothing but inconsequential, random, musings about what’s important to me. That’s why whenever anyone else buys into reading it, I am both astonished and flattered.

In 2003&#185 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.

That was then, this is now. The page counter has moved from 60,000 to 355,554. This year you visited 256,409 times downloading about 5,000,000 files (each image within the blog, plus other insertions in a single page, counts as a file). My server, located in Chicago and maintained by hostforweb.com has spit out 51.7 gb of data.

Though there was a huge spike after I wrote about Ashlee Simpson’s Saturday Night Live debacle a day before it hit the bigger websites, a smoothed traffic line shows my audience steadily building. I am averaging over 1,000 visits a day.

There are three ways I look at my traffic and all tell slightly different stories. On each web page is a counter which increments once any time someone reads a page. I don’t think it is triggered by web crawlers that sites like Google and Yahoo use, though I can’t be sure. There is also a control panel counter I can see in the web site’s “back office.” Finally there’s the counter from the company that I allow to place ads on the site.

They’re always different. Always.

Speaking of ads, since I added them as an unobtrusive experiment, they have paid for my web hosting. The aggregate total in $198.44, of which I’ve already received about $144. This site makes on average 89&#162 per day. As I write this, I have made 7&#162 today. Some days are better than others.

Before you poo poo that number, multiply it by 365. I was going to publish a blog anyway, why not put these few ads off in a corner?

The number one search term was “John Mayer,” though that’s misleading. Ashlee Simpson probably drew more traffic, but there were multiple search terms (and spellings) used. As with last year, I’m surprised that traffic has come here after searching for things like, “hot water pipe is frozen south korea” or “chuck woolery wives&#178” or the always popular “carrot top shirtless&#179.”

Google also sent a lot of traffic my way because of an entry I had which debunked a popular picture of a tanker sailing into a hurricane. If you search Google for “hurricane photo” my enticing picture is on the bottom right. This one link was clicked 55,599 times by Google’s users.

I have tried to write something every day. Sometimes that meant scraping the bottom of the barrel. My apologies. Other times my life was centered around things I couldn’t or wouldn’t write about publicly. Those days were the most difficult for blog writing.

There are now over 900 individual entries in this blog. There are also thousands of photos in my photo gallery. If you ask Google what they have archived on this site, the response is 11,400 pages!

Thanks for stopping by. Thanks for reading. Thanks for commenting and sending grammatical and spelling corrections. It’s all really appreciated.

My daughter says whenever I put something in a text box, that’s an immediate sign that’s it’s really boring.

Happy New Year Steffie

And Happy New Year to you too.

&#185 – This blog began in early July 2003, so last year’s numbers represent approximately half a year.

&#178 – After Jo Anne Pflug I am lost.

&#179 – This particular term was searched for 399 times. Some people need to get a life.

Chicago Fire Gets Little National Coverage

A fire broke out this evening in an older high rise office building in Chicago. At work we watched live feeds of the action. It was very compelling video with flames coming out the windows and people scurrying around not far from the danger (and as it turned out there were many injuries, including some injured firemen).

ABC and the other ‘legacy’ networks were in entertainment programming. This is not the type of story that would have ever caused them to break in. The same is not true for the cable news networks, so I flipped my tuner to Channel 31 and started at MSNBC.

They were in talk programming. I think it was Deborah Norville&#185. On Channel 32, Fox had Hannity and Colmes yapping away. Brooke Shields was with Larry King on CNN, Channel 33.

If any of them covered the fire, it was during headline breaks. I came looking because I wanted to see continuous coverage. I found no coverage.

I know these shows are repeated later in the evening and I assume breaking news makes it much more difficult to run them intact during West Coast prime time. Still, this was the bread and butter of cable news a few years ago.

I’ll bet if any one of them would have broken in, they all would have.

&#185 – I loved Deborah Norville when she was on the radio. She was really charming and quite witty. I’m not sure I’ve ever watched more than 10 consecutive seconds of any of her TV shows. Isn’t it strange how that works?

Why My Website Disappeared Today

In a perfect world (one where no one sends spam and windshield wipers never streak) I would own the server this website is on. It’s really not a big deal. You take a computer – not even a powerful computer – hook it to a fixed IP address, run some free software and voila, you’ve got a website.

It’s that easy. It’s just not that cheap!

A fixed IP address and permission to run a server don’t come with a cable modem. And putting a high speed line in my house would be fun but impractically pricey. I contract with a company in Chicago, Hostforweb.com.

I pay $100 per year to rent the space and the computing power on which this site runs. For $100, the hosting package comes with restrictions. I share the computer I use with others. I don’t know how many others but at least dozens, maybe hundreds.

I have to be a good neighbor to the other websites that live with me. So, I can take some resources, but not enough to slow the others down. It’s only fair. Of course, I never have an exact feel for what I’m using or what they’re allowing.

Earlier today Hostforweb.com took a look at what this website was doing and realized the process I was running to post weather bulletins (on a day with two active hurricanes and other severe/strong weather) was a resource hog. I didn’t think it would be, but this week in general and today specifically are not the norm.

Here’s one thing Hostforweb.com does that really upsets me. When they found my server was using too many resources, they just shut me down!

Where my website once lived there was now a note telling anyone who came that there were problems. My mail was shut down too, as was my shell access (the ability to command the server computer from my home computer – or anywhere).

I contact Hostforweb.com via computer. The tech support person who answered my chat said I needed to send an email. Of course, they had shut down my email!

I called their 800 number. After a few minutes of holding I was told no one could take my call but I should send an email. On my second try I reached someone by phone.

To make a long story short, the process that was causing the problem wasn’t important enough to fight about. I like my hosting, I’m comfortable here. So, I removed one tiny part of the website and they let me back on.

Actually, they had to let me back on first. Without access to the website, I couldn’t do anything to fix it.

Case closed – I hope.

Just Shoot Me Now

News ratings are dependent on a variety of factors. One of the most important, maybe the most important, is your lead-in. It doesn’t seem like it should be this way, considering how we all use the remote control, but it is.

Having a good lead-in means having a more prominent place to promote your show and the added spillover of those who were already on your channel when you come on.

It’s because of this that I am disheartened to see:

CHICAGO (AP) – Talk show host Oprah Winfrey celebrated the premiere of her 19th season Monday by surprising each of her 276 audience members with a new car.

Great. Unless Judge Judy solves the war in Iraq this afternoon, we head into 5:00 O’clock a little behind.

Having a Blog – The Fringe Benefits

I like writing in my blog. Hopefully, that’s obvious. Whether anyone reads it or not, it’s an opportunity to vent and reflect. There are, unfortunately, far too few places to do either.

A side benefit of having a blog is the web presence it gives me. Do a Google search for Geoff Fox and you’ll find me first, even though there are other Geoff Foxes – most more accomplished than I am.

Once you’ve found the website, getting in touch with me by email is simple. From time-to-time I get a note from someone I knew a long time ago who stumbled across this site. One came in tonight.

Actually, I’m lucky I found the note from Dave Kulka, because it was in my spam box, snuggled between herbal Viagra and mortgage offers&#185.

David Kulka here. Geoff, how the hell are you? We haven’t spoken in a

long time. I was sifting through DX artifacts and other memorabilia

from the past and came across a batch of old letters from you. You

were certainly easy to find on Google.

Email seems insufficient for catching up after 30 years, why don’t you

give me a call. 818-xxx-xxxx.

73’s

David

He’s David now, but I first met Dave Kulka in person in August 1968. We had met through correspondence and a mutual hobby, broadcast band DX’ing&#178, months earlier.

I had just turned 18. Dave was a few years younger. We planned on meeting for the National Radio Club convention in Los Angeles, visiting another radio nerd in Riverside, CA and spending some time at Dave’s house in Marin County, just outside San Fransisco.

This was my first time away from home by myself. I was flying cross country to meet a stranger. Who knew what he’d be like?

At 18, I was naive. There was never a question of fear or worry. I remember getting some incredible 1/2 price youth fare on TWA and flying from Kennedy Airport to Los Angeles.

There’s not a lot I remember, though a few individual events stand out.

The convention was held in an older, somewhat worn, hotel in Hollywood. I believe it was the Roosevelt, but I might be wrong. Within an hour of being in LA and checking into the hotel, I got myself arrested for jaywalking at Hollywood and Cahuenga! I think Dave got pinched too.

When we went to the desert in Riverside, it was as foreign a place as I’d ever been. I remember how bare the ground was, and how we were fairly close to a bluff which overlooked Riverside Airport. I went there a few times to watch the Hughes Air West Fairchild F-27’s takeoff and land

One day while we were in the house in Riverside, everything began to shake. I could hear plates and glasses rattling. Earthquake! It scared the living daylights out of me… though Dave and the home’s owner, Don, made like it was nothing. To this day, it’s my one and only earthquake.

Spending time in Marin County was also an eye opening experience. Dave and his family lived in a beautiful home on the side of a hill. There was a deck which ran from the side to the back. His parents cars were parked on the narrow road in front of the house. Their auto registration was somehow affixed to the steering post. Having grown up in apartment 5E, this was all culture shock.

I remember Dave’s mom. I couldn’t pick her out of a crowd today, but I remember thinking she was pretty and young for the mom of a contemporary. Mostly I remember her during the days of the 1968 Democratic Convention in Chicago.

This was the convention where Mayor Daley attempted to quash the dissent of the anti-war movement. There were riots in Chicago during the convention. It was all televised live.

Dave’s mom cried. It was a soft, emotional cry. Over 35 years later, that moment is strong in my mind. I remember her standing there, turned 3/4 away from the TV, in an emotional state because of something going on half a country away.

I didn’t understand the significance of what was going on at the time. Dave didn’t either. But her emotion from that night is still strong in my mind.

Dave’s uncle, Leo deGar Kulka, was the proprietor of a well known recording studio in San Fransisco. We spent a lot of time there, though I never met Uncle Leo.

Like I said, Dave could have been a weirdo – who knew? I was going out there on blind faith. But, he turned out to be a nice guy, and it was a trip which still stands out in my mind.

Tonight, on my way home from work, I called him and we spoke for a while. He has had an amazing life, traveling through much of Asia. These were not tourist jaunts to capitols, but trips through the countryside – places where Anglos are oddities. That kind of world traveling is one thing I’ve wanted to, but never will, do.

He sounds bright, self assured and content. On the phone I told him he sounded happy with his life, but I think content is a much more fitting word.

Dave’s in Burbank, in the San Fernando Valley, designing and installing recording studios. He is married with no children.

We get out there every once in a while. Next time, I’ll have to see him. How much could he have changed in 36 years?

&#185 – I always hope I find all the non-spam in my spam box, but, as good as popfile is, I am never sure. The downside to having a website like this is the amazing amount of spam I receive – hundreds of pieces every day.

&#178 – Broadcast band DXing is a hobby where you try and listen to distant, often foreign, broadcast stations on the regular AM dial. Using sophisticated, incredibly nerdy equipment, I was able to hear Europe, Hawaii, even Africa on an AM radio from the East Coast. I haven’t been involved in years, but still know the calls of most of the dominant clear channel stations and many of the strong regionals.

That Sluggish Feeling

This website, geofffox.com, lives on a server in Chicago (I think). The server is run by a company called hostforweb.com. In essence, I rent a small piece of it.

Over the last few months, the server has been running slowly. You might have noticed it. I certainly did. Lots of what goes on here is controlled by commands I give the server. Often times, I have to sit and wait for the server to respond. W-a-i-t. You get the picture.

I spoke to the hostforweb.com folks and they asked, “Would you like to move to a different server?” Sure – if that will help. But really, who knows, because they don’t think this server is particularly slow to begin with.

Anyway, the big move is scheduled for Sunday night. By and large, I should have to do nothing. But, that’s never really the case. There will be some sort of loose end or unexpected problem.

I am most concerned about changing my IP address. That’s the place where your computer goes to find what you’re reading. www.geofffox.com really resolves to 66.225.220.189 – and that number will change.

Will surfers looking for this site be able to find me? Will all my links still work? What haven’t I planned for? Will it actually speed the website up? Stay tuned. The answer comes over this weekend.

Gene Klavan

When I was growing up, my parents (mostly my dad) listened to WNEW. To me it represented what adult life was about. It was sophisticated and upwardly mobile. The stars of that era of popular music hung out at WNEW and socialized with the disk jockeys.

It was a Sammy Davis Jr., Frank Sinatra, Jack Jones, Steve & Eydie kind of place.

The morning show was Klavan and Finch. Gene Klavan was the comic and Dee Finch his straight man. This past week Gene Klavan died at 79.

I was speaking to my dad tonight, looking for the right moment to tell him about Klavan, when he told me.

I stopped for a minute. Is it right to tell a 78 year old about the death of a 79 year old? And then I asked him.

I didn’t want to pry, but I wondered how my dad looked at death. I think (and he reads this so he’ll tell me if I’m wrong) that he just sees it as a part of life. Where he lives, in Florida, he is surrounded by it.

His life now is the best it’s ever been. He and my mom are incredibly active – much more so than ever before. He says, 78 is an age he never imagined, much less consciously thought of.

I see my parents living forever. But they are so much better at dealing with reality than I am.

Continue reading “Gene Klavan”

100,000 Pages Served

Sometime on Monday the little counter on the bottom right of this website will spin past 99,999 and move into six digits. It’s my website, and I am impressed. I never thought there would be anywhere near this much traffic.

However, let’s keep this in perspective. Compared to a large commercial site like Google or Yahoo I’m not even a rounding error. This site has so little traffic that it easily shares a computer with dozens of other small sites (and my server is in Chicago).

For a one man operation with no promotion, and no draw other than a look at what I’m thinking on any given day (not much it often seems) 100k since July is livin’ large.

To define terms, each time a full page of this website is viewed the counter goes up one. This page counts as one. If you go back and look at a single archived entry, that’s another one. Looking at a full screen of thumbnails in my gallery is one more. And, if you click on any of them to get that single image in a larger view that is yet one more.

There are other counters at work on the site. Most of them operate behind the scenes on the management pages.

This is the 400th entry in my blog which started on July 4, 2003 (you can see the titles of each with links by clicking here). The combined text and images here take up 285 MB. This website has spit out a little less than 15 GB of data, enough to fill 20 or so CDROMs. There have been 56,000 separate visits to the site. If you count each individual file that’s called on, each image, style sheet, table and text files, you will be just short of 1.5 million hits!

This site is fully indexed on all the search engines, but gets the most traffic, by far, from Google. The largest number of referrals come from people entering the name, “Scotty Crowe,” John Mayer’s road manager who I had written about… and who doesn’t appear on other sites often enough to move me from a prominent showing on Google and Yahoo. In 2003, Scotty was only number 2, just behind “giblet gravy,” a term I had used in a context that probably wasn’t be searched for.

There are other Geoff Fox’s listed on the Internet – many others. But, I am the number one result when you Google my name. I’m also high on the list for ‘dissed’ and, of course, Scotty Crowe.

Each day, between 350-450 of you visit, looking at about 2 pages per visit on average.

There is a certain amount of exaggeration when you see all these numbers. Some do nothing more than reflect the Internet equivalent of a wrong number, as people come here by mistake. Others are reflecting robots and spiders and crawlers from search engines like Google, Yahoo and now Microsoft. Still more, less than 10% but significant, are from me… looking for errors and proofreading my work (I spend a lot of time spellchecking and proofreading my work and mistakes still get through all the time).

Actually, I often stay away from the public pages, lest I run up the counter.

If I told you how much this endeavor has cost, you’d probably be surprised. The main software is Movabletype, which is free. Same goes for Gallery, my photo gallery software and GrADS which produces the meteograms. All the software on this site is freeware.

Renting my little corner of cyberspace is also pretty cheap. I paid $100 for one year of webhosting, which provides the destination when you type https://www.geofffox.com. For that $100 I get 350 MB of space, more bandwidth than I can use, and the ability to control my mailboxes and truly be the master of my own domain! Owning geofffox.com is another $20 (I also own tv-cd.com).

Please accept my thanks for coming here and helping me stay motivated. I have become somewhat anal – posting virtually every day. I am surprised, gratified and a little scared when I think you’ve spent a time reading what I have to say.

My Camera Goes To The Hospital

I’ve written, on more than one occasion, about my camera and the obsession I have for taking pictures. I’ve taken over 6,000 since getting my Fujifilm Finepix S602Z. In fact, Sunday is the first anniversary of its purchase. Which brings us to today’s little quandry and journey.

Sometime in the last month, my camera developed a very small problem. One pixel, the smallest photo element it resolves, became stuck in the on mode. So, in every picture, there is one miniscule red spot. If I didn’t tell you about, you would never see it within a picture. Since I post process nearly every picture in Photoshop anyway, it was easy to work around. Still, once I noticed it, it was tough to dismiss.

I discovered the problem is February, and since the camera has a one year warranty, I wasn’t too worried. That is, until I couldn’t find my receipt.

I called Bangalore, India (I didn’t know that’s where I was calling at the time) to speak to Circuit City’s support folks. About 10 days later the receipt appeared in the mail, having been mailed from an office in the states.

I wanted the camera for my Chicago trip. Unfortunately, after I returned, I forgot all about the camera’s illness. Yesterday Helaine asked when I was sending it in, and I got a box to prepare it for shipping today.

When I went to finish the project I noticed the one year anniversary of the purchase is Sunday. I couldn’t get it to the repair depot before Monday! A quick phone call verified my concern… If it wasn’t in today, forget the warranty.

So, early this afternoon, I hopped in the car and drove to Enfield. Connecticut is a very small state, but I live in the far south and Enfield is all the way north – over 60 miles in each direction.

I found Precision Camera Repair without too much trouble (only one wrong turn). It is in a low slung building in an office park, across from Enrico Fermi High School. I parked at the end of the lot and walked past one glass door with an arrow pointing to another glass door. Looking inside the first, I saw men, sitting at work benches, working on cameras. Curled tubes on each bench probably supplied compressed air. This is demanding work where dust… and bad eyesight, aren’t very helpful.

Once inside the lobby, I looked into an office with four women sitting in separate cubicles. The cubicles met at a center point – sort of like the spot where Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona and Utah meet. A young woman in the back section saw me and stood up to walk my way. She was pretty, and was made more so by the fact that she was wearing a formal dress… as if she were going to some nighttime affair.

It would later turn out that she worked a second job, as a deejay. She was at job number one, but dressed for job number two.

She took my camera, typed a few pertinent notes into a computer, and gave me receipt. She said they’d mail it back to me.

Meanwhile, for the next 15-20 business days (why can’t they just say 3-4 weeks?) I will be without my camera. I still have an older Casio QV-2000UX – but it’s just not the same.

There is a way to check the status of my repair, using their toll free number. Like a sick friend in the hospital, I will call to see how my camera is doing.

How Does The Diet Go?

It’s been two and a half weeks since I began dieting and so far, so good. I was so distressed about my weight when I began, that I couldn’t look at the scale to note my starting weight. The best estimate is, I’m down 11-12 pounds and that’s a huge difference.

Within the first few days, my suits started fitting better. Of course the fit of my clothing was the original signal to me that it was time to lose a little. Today, Helaine told me she could see I was thinner.

I’d like to lose 15 pounds more (which would take me back to what I weighed 20 years ago), but that will take a few months. I’m willing to make that commitment. I never thought I’d have the willpower to diet, but it’s not that bad. It’s just that once I get to my goal, I immediately return to being a carb loving, pigging out, hog.

That’s stupid. Unfortunately, intellectualizing the problem doesn’t make it go away.

Of course, once you begin eating the way you did before your diet, you will move back toward your pre-diet weight. No diet can immunize you against your own bad habits as you move forward.

In the past I had been a strict Atkins adherent. This time, it’s a cross between Atkins and South Beach. I suppose I’ve just used South Beach to introduce a few foods I had never used before… but I’m still closer to what Dr. Atkins prescribed.

I like Atkins because the weight that comes off, and comes off right away, is from fatty places, like your belly.

There are two foods I’ve discovered on this trip through the diet that have really surprised me. The first is a chocolate fudge bar from Klondike. The fudge bar is excellent and I’d enjoy it even off the diet.! It uses Splenda for sweetening. I’ve tried Splenda in coffee and didn’t like the taste (nor do I like any artificial sweetener in coffee). It’s a different story in baked goods. Helaine made a flour free almond pound cake, sweetened with Splenda, and it’s really good.

The second surprise is the new Atkins wraps at Subway. I’ve had the chicken bacon wrap with ranch dressing, and it’s really good. Allegedly it is has 8 grams of carbs, which is acceptable. Packed with veggies it’s more filling than I’d expect from its size.

This past weekend in Chicago I was able to keep dieting even though it was all restaurant food. Once you realize what you can and cannot have, it becomes easier. I have yet to crave for the things I shouldn’t be eating so far.

I’m still never taking my shirt off at the beach. America continues to be safe in that regard.

Blame The Lawyers?

Since returning from Chicago, I’ve been catching up on the news. One of the recurring themes today is the question of whether Martha Stewart’s attorneys failed her?

There is an implication that good lawyering should achieve the desired result, no matter what the cause of action. We, unfortunately, live in a society that believes the goal of a well presented defense is to allow someone to be unaccountable for their actions. If that’s the criteria by which the Stewart verdict is being judged, the critics are right.

But, isn’t the whole idea of competent counsel, a fair and just result?

It is in the selfish interest of the accused (if guilty) to get an unfair and unjust adjudication. Hey – if it were me, that’s what I’d want. That’s not what’s in the best interest of our society – and our court system is supposed to be operating in the best interests of society.

Maybe it’s time we reassess exactly what it is lawyers do. Is a lawyer who can get a guilty client ‘off’ any different than a trainer who supplies an athlete with steroids that can’t be detected?

In a fair and just society, the question shouldn’t be about what Martha Stewart’s attorneys did, but what Martha did herself.