just adding a picture

Hello, faithful readers, welcome back to ronnyd.com. This is the first post of the year and I have nothing much to say right now. I downloaded the GIMP last night, a free image manipulation program, similar to Photoshop, but it’s open source and about $700.00 less than what Adobe puts out. The GIMP is Gnu Image Manipulation program. The project was started in about 1995, so I have some suspicion that the name was inspired by a character of the same name in Pulp Fiction. I played with the program some last night, tweaking some photos from Christmas, and otherwise just playing around a bit. I made the image on the opening page with it. My photoshop skills are really rusty.

That’s all, more later.

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Shhh! Everyone look busy, Jesus is coming …

winter

Happy Christmanukkahwaanza-paganwintersolstice-ritual. Eat, drink, be merry.

Note: The photo above is not one that I took myself. I stole it from a site after I did a search for ‘winter’ in Google Images.

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What look do I want?

So, I haven’t shaved in a quite a while, preferring to keep a short trim beard. I also haven’t gotten a haircut since the end of July when I was in Connecticut for my cousin’s wedding. The follow three pictures are of me, obviously, and three looks that I’ve had in the past few months.

I shaved last night and got a haircut this morning in preparation for an interview that was supposed to happen in San Francisco this afternoon. The interview was rescheduled, but I ended up looking like I was returning to work for the man nonetheless.

I’m partial to the photo on the left, the length of my hair is just right and so is my length of the beard. The next picture is of me last night after I took the beard off, and then this afternoon is on the far right, after I got my 6th month haircut. I’m still not clean shaven, because I hate shaving, and the interview was postponed anyway. So, screw it, I ain’t shaving today. Email me and tell me what look you like. If you’re bored or something like that.

Yes, I do realize that this post is extremely vain. However, this is my website, and I can be vain if I want to. Plus if you know me, this should really come as no surprise!

Plus, I haven’t even done the glasses / no glasses comparison yet. I can’t let it out all in one post!

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Mike N Jackie Gettin’ Hitched

It’s long, long, long overdue, but I finally posted pictures from the wedding of my friends Mike and Jackie. Check them out here.

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25 Years Ago Today


9 October 1940 – 8 December 1980On the 8th of December 1980, on the upper west side of Manhattan, John Lennon was shot and killed by Mark David Chapman. Chapman shot Lennon just after he and Yoko Ono had exited their limousine to walk into their home at the Dakota Apartment Building on 72nd Street.

It wasn’t until a few years ago that I realized that Yoko had been right next to John as Chapman shot him. For as much as people will blame Yoko for breaking up the Beatles and say nasty things about her and her influence over Lennon, watching helplessly as your lover and soulmate is gunned down in front of you is not something that I would wish on anyone.

On the 29th of October of this year, I visited the Imagine memorial in the Strawberry Fields section of NYC’s Central Park. I also walked along 72nd street in front of the Dakota. The Dakota is just across the street from the Park and the site of the memorial. I’ve read that Yoko, who still lives in the Dakota, can see the memorial from her home and will often watch when there are memorial services and remembrance gatherings for Lennon at the memorial site, as I’m sure there is today.

I didn’t feel right about taking a photo of myself in front of the memorial, but I felt I could get away with snapping a picture of the memorial itself:

The Beatles are one of my favorite musical groups, if not at the very top of the list. I was just shy of my sixth birthday when Lennon was murdered. I don’t remember much of the details from firsthand memory at all, but I can recall just that there was a massive amount of news coverage in the days and weeks afterward. I remember that every time the topic of Lennon’s murder arose in the ensuing years of the 80’s I could always place myself back in the living room of our childhood home and feel myself watching the coverage of the funeral. I can remember the feeling of watching and knowing that everyone was sad and upset, but not really comprehending what was actually happening meant to everyone.

My appreciation for the band didn’t fully mature until sometime in high school. I finally paid attention to Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band during my junior year and jumped to the ‘white album’ next. The more I discovered the Beatles’ and Lennon’s music the more senseless his death became. I’m still discovering their music and I’m still dumbfounded by his death.

The world misses you, John.

topmost Imagine photo credit is (AP Photo/Bebeto Matthews)

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getting it done

Getting what done?

Shit.

I’m getting shit done today.

And trying to make sure that I look like The Dude as closely as possible. El Duderino

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new york, new york is a hell of a town

My flight from Oakland to NYC departs in less than 7 hrs. I should go to bed. I will go to bed. NYC here I come.

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white shirt, white bike

Well, here she is, my new pride and joy. My new 2004 Santa Cruz Blur. I’m insuring this one and registering it with the National Bike Registry. Don’t even try to steal it, motherf#$%ers!

No comments on the hair please.

I got it this evening and I’ve been putting it together, but I accidentally squeezed the brake levers on it without the discs between the brakepads, and I need to make an adjustment on both of them tomorrow to finish with the wheels. Also, this bike was built once already, and I cannot believe that whomever built this thing up would mar it like they did with all of the extra stickers they put over the damn thing. They are so damn ugly. I count six extra on the frame, and four extra on the fork! What the hell? They’re coming off once this thing goes for a test ride and I decide that it’s good to go and I can keep it.

Here’s a thought on bikes: While I’m going to enjoy this one for what it can do, and let’s face it, with the specs on this thing, it can probably do more than I can ever hope to get out of it, it’s going to require some diligence and effort to maintain. There is a hydraulic disc braking system, a suspension fork in the front, a suspension frame with an air shock in the rear, and of course, front and rear derailleurs. It’s a complex machine. A complex machine means more parts, more parts means more maintenance, and more maintenance means that there is more to forget to do, and that of course means that there are going to be more things that can fail.

Thinking about this makes me looks forward to the mechanical simplicity of my rigid singlespeed when I get that project done

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looks like puke, tastes like a dream

Here’s a picture of my breakfast from yesterday. I told my sister about it, she responded with a “gross!”, and when I looked at my creation again, I thought the same thing. It does look a little bit like puke. But you can’t think about that, you must resist the urge to vomit when you see it, simply smell its deliciousness, and take a bite.

What is it? It’s scrambled eggs and chunky homemade tomato sauce. The sauce was just okay. Not my finest work, so I’ll leave out the details of what went into the sauce when I made it.

I had some leftover sauce from a lasagne that I had made about a week and a half ago, and not wanting the left over sauce to go to waste, and not really in the mood for pasta for breakfast, I decided to make an omelet and pour the sauce over. However, lack of any milk in the house changed the plan from an omelet to scrambled eggs.

I poured some olive oil into my new pan, threw in a sliced up clove or two of garlic, sauteed them, put in the left over sauce, heated it up until it bubbled, and then broke three eggs into it, stirring them and cooking them until they firmed up. Voila, you have a delicious, but foul looking plate of food to have for breakfast!

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‘why I couldn’t find my car last night’ or ‘a new friend in need’

monday 12 sept 2005

I left my friend’s house late last night, around half past midnight, pretty sure that I had all of the street names down, and that I was heading in the direction where I thought I had parked my car. I parked quite a ways away because the parking in my friend’s neighborhood was tight, and so I ended up about six or seven blocks away from his house. I walked down his street, made a right and then made the left that I was supposed to make, and kept on walking. I know I was heading in the right direction up until I made the left, but about two blocks down that street, things started to look a little unfamiliar.

I made another right, thinking that maybe I was on the right track, but, really, I already knew that I wasn’t. All of the houses and apartment buildings on this street were new to me; hadn’t seen them before. I wasn’t all that upset that I couldn’t find the car, because I knew that it was in only a few blocks’ radius. I figured that I would just walk along all of them, systematically knocking them off as I passed, and hoping for some familiarity to come. I walked a few more blocks and saw a streetsign ahead that I at least recognized, and from there I would know where I was, but I still wouldn’t know where my car was.

I approached the intersection of the street that I was walking along and the street that I recognized and stopped. From the corner of my right eye I saw something across the street and looked over to see a small dog, about 35 pounds and 15 inches tall, standing on the corner across the street, looking over at me. This surprised me that he was just standing and looking at me, but because of this I knew right away that he wouldn’t run if I kept cool. I said ‘hi’ and waved, because, well, I always say ‘hi’ to dogs, and then called him over. The dog moved slowly across the street, but when I crouched down to his level he began to trot and then to run over to me. I started to pet him right away, and I think that he was grateful for the attention. He rolled over and asked for a belly rub.

He had on a collar, so that was a good sign, and while reading the red heart-shaped tag I quickly realized, oops, that he was in fact, a she. Nina was her name, she was out on her own past midnight, and I guessed not where she was supposed to be. There was a 510 area code phone number on the tag, so I pulled out the cell phone and dialed. It was already about 12:40 am, but if my dog were out on her own, I would damn well want to be woken up to come and get her. So I called, and after about three rings, a woman, clearly just waking up from the ringing phone, answered with a sleepy “Hello?”

“Hi, sorry for waking you up, but do you have a dog named Nina?”
“Um, Yeah.” she said, probably wondering what the hell I was talking about at that time of night, so I explained,
“Well, she’s out with me at the corner of Oakland and Moss, we’re out on the Northwest corner.”
“Okay, I’ll be right out.”
“Okay, we’ll wait here.”

Well, good, Nina was about to go home. I was going to bring her home with me if I had to, but since the phone number was good, she would get a nice reunion. I was tired and didn’t feel like standing, so I sat on the corner with her to wait and started to pet her. At that point I honestly didn’t know from where her owner was going to be coming. She could be coming from down the street, or it could be from blocks away. Nina was very cute, and rolled over for a belly rub again. Hmm, I was thinking maybe I shouldn’t have called in the first place. No, I wasn’t really thinking that, I would hate it if someone even thought of stealing my dog.

A very short while after I sat and started petting Nina she sat up, her ears perked, and she began staring across the street, seeing and hearing something that only dogs can. Her owner was coming, Nina could sense it, and I felt good.

The person to appear from the shadows wasn’t the woman who answered the phone, but instead a man. He was carrying a leash and as soon as Nina saw him come out from the shadows, she got excited and began to cross the street. I told her to wait, and the she did, before I looked both ways, and then told her it was alright to cross, after which she bolted right for the man. Good, I thought, she obviously knows and likes this man.

I said ‘hi’ to him as he leashed her up, he asking me where she was when I found her. I told him about seeing her across the street as I was walking and pointed to the corner where I had initially spotted her. I asked if she normally gets out, and he said no, and that he couldn’t figure out how she did it, because they had checked to make sure that everything that needed closing was closed before they went to bed. He thanked me, we shook hands and went our separate ways.

About three minutes later I found my car.

This was a reason that it took so long to find my car initially: I had a job to do.

I had to make sure that a dog named Nina made it home safely.

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