The Last Amazing Flight of The Kevinburg

In all the hubbub at work this week, I haven’t even had time to tell you the very cool thing the search business folks did for me. A long time ago, we did this big deal with another company that used to give people remote-controlled blimps. I whined and whined and whined that if I did all this work for the deal, that I should get a blimp. I never got it. I did get some great swag from them, like a remote-controlled robot, a cool picnic backpack and a nice polo shirt. Alas, there was no blimp.

As a thank you/congratulations present, the guys got me a blimp!! It was about three feet long, two feet high, and had Where the Wild Things Are pictures taped all over it. It was cool. The first test flight went well. It was just around a little open meeting area. Then, for the rest of the week, it floated in my office, because I was too busy to actually do anything with it.

Friday afternoon, I’d had enough. I needed to take a break, so a couple of my friends came over and we took the blimp down to the CC2 Atrium. The building I work in now is a big four-story rectangular donut, with this big open space in the middle from first floor to ceiling. I couldn’t think of a better place to try the blimp out. It was entirely too tempting. We fired it up, let it go and puttered around a little over our heads. Then, things went terribly wrong. The blimp hit the air blowers at the second floor and shot straight up to the fourth floor, where it was grabbed and mercilessly grappled by the huge air intake vents. We ran up the stairs (because it was well out of range at this point) and tried in vain to use the poor little propellers to free it. It was held fast. So, I went back to my desk and fetched the Koosh balls, in the vain attempt that we could free it by bludgeoning. No luck. Then, we went back to my office where I humbly called facilities and explained the situation and was summarily bitched out for not realizing that the smoke detectors on the fourth floor could have easily gone off, clearing the building and summoning the fire department. Now, in fear for my job, and being blamed for disturbing people trying franticly to finish work before the weekend, I rushed back to the fourth floor balcony to watch my poor captured dirigible and wait for her galant blue-shirted rescuer to arrive. I expected a big ladder. Instead, he went through the vents. I noticed some clanging, and then a hairy hand reached through the vent and grabbed the blimp. He yanked it towards him and uttered the words I knew were coming, “Am I trying to save this thing?” Of course, I told him to do whatever he had to. He popped it and dragged it through the vent, then told me to meet him downstairs.

I guess this all ended well. I learned a little about the fire system in my building, and the guy who performed the rescue wasn’t all that upset. He thought it was kind of funny and said people do stupid stuff like this all the time. But, my poor blimp is crumpled in a box in my office… never to fly again; at least not at work.

There’s apparently another Kevin Lawver

There’s apparently another Kevin Lawver in the world. I was pretty certain I was the only one. He’s apparently married and has facial hair just like me. He’s an “evangelist” for a church in Wisconsin.

Did you ever see Are You Dave Gorman? Well, I’m starting, Are You Kevin Lawver. We haven’t met in person, but there’s another Kevin Lawver out there. How weird is that?

Striking Constistency Last night was

Striking Constistency

Last night was the last real night of bowling. Our team, The Misfits (man, that name sucks… we’re coming up with our own name next time – like The Pothole Fillers or something), put on an amazing show of offense, heretofore unseen in our collective bowling escapades. We all broke our averages by more than 10 pins, and were absolute models of consistency. Instead of my normal infuriating 103 average, I averaged a strapping 129. It felt great, and better yet, we won! We won handily. There was much hand slapping, fist pumping, manly comraderie to be had. Yes, I am a bowler.

That’s not fair!

If you haven’t heard it yet, the Snatch soundtrack is amazing. An odd mix that flows nicely.

But, music is not the topic of the day. Fairness and its ultimate misinterpretation by little girls is the topic du jour. You may ask yourself how a geek like me would have any knowledge of this topic. You would be wise to question. How do I know? Well, I’m a church-going fellow (don’t ask me why, don’t know myself sometimes). Since I’m a Mormon, that means I get called by God to do certain things. My current calling is to teach Primary. For the un-Mormonified, Primary is little kids’ Sunday School. I’m a teacher. Who do I teach? I teach the 7 year-olds who will turn 8 during this calendar year. I have six little girls in my class and they drive me nuts. I don’t understand little girls. They’re so fragile emotionally. They have these weird ideas about “fair” and right and wrong that just drive me nuts.

I normally wouldn’t even talk about here, but I made one of them cry yesterday. I tried and tried not to have to, but there was nothing I could do. In Primary, we have Opening Exercises where, each week, a different class is assigned to give the prayer, read the scripture for the month and give two little talks on a certain topic. The little Primary leaders give me four slips of paper, and I go to my class and ask for volunteers. Usually, it’s like pulling teeth to get people to volunteer. This week, four little hands went up when I asked who wanted to give the talks. How am I supposed to handle this? Should I ask for divine inspiration?

We had a Rock, Paper, Scissors tournament to decide. Two brackets and then a final to determine talk giver , then take volunteers for talk and repeat the process. Since this was the first time we’ve had to assign talks with this class, I figured, hey, this is fair. Right? It’s a game of chance, the girls actually do the deciding by their luck and skill at Rock, Paper, Scissors (no wild tanks or airstrikes – was I the only one who played that way?).

When the smoke cleared, four little girls had something to do next week, and one didn’t. There were four things to be assigned, and 5 little girls who wanted to be involved. Someone was going to be left out. The left out little girl started sobbing that she didn’t have anything to do, and that she sat out LAST time. I tried to explain that I wasn’t the teacher last time, and that the other girls said she wasn’t left out last time. There was no convincing her of the method of my madness. So, I gave up, and went on with my lesson about Noah and his amazing stinky, pitchy, three story, livestock laden ark. I didn’t get very far before she started wailing again about the unfairness of it all. I lost it. Now, to be clear, she was already crying. I turned to her and said, “Look, you need to go look up ‘fair’ in the dictionary. This is completely fair and impartial. I’m not picking on you. You had the same chance to be able to give a talk as everyone else. I had no empirical data about what happened last year, because I wasn’t your teacher. I am writing down who did what this time, and next time, those who didn’t give a talk this time and want to next time will be given first dibs. If that’s not good enough for you, I’m sorry. Life just isn’t fair. The sooner you realize that fact, the easier life will be.”

Did I do the wrong thing? Am I a bad person for pointing out the obvious?

Overload I’ve been writing a

I’ve been writing a lot this week… you just can’t read it. I’ve written e-mail after e-mail, document after document, and I’m still not done. Now, I just want to play, even though I should be writing a roadmap for this brilliant idea I had. Yes, I know it’s Saturday, but the week just doesn’t seem long enough to get everything done.

Tim left for home yesterday. I don’t think I got to spend enough time with him while he was here. I don’t know what it’s supposed to be like now that we’re both married and living across the country from each other. He starts med school in the fall, and well, I don’t know. Things are just different.

And it doesn’t get easier from here. I’m spending the month of May on yet another top secret project called The Skunkworks and won’t be able to tell you much more than the name. Next week, I’ll be sequestered in a conference room making plans, designing things and “thinking outside the box”. And just when I was getting used to my new office.

Ok, that’s enough for now. Back to conquering the world…

There are new Max pics

There are new Max pics up that Uncle Steve was kind enough to take: Playing in the backyard at Grandma’s. There are some really nice shots of my little boy. Good job, Steve!

Making Time

Yes, this was the big top-secret project. It went off without a hitch and should bring in moola for all involved. They’re great to work with too, which is a bonus. It’s been an exciting month or two, but I’m ready for a break. Too bad I won’t get one.

The new job is very cool. I’ve never had such a supportive group to work with. They covered for me when I took Monday and Tuesday off, and kept the wolves at bay admirably. I did have to come in at 11:30 pm on Tuesday to help launch this thing, but that was kind of exciting. Will it work? Will it die a horrible flaming death? It worked, and well too.

I’ll try to sum up this week since the concert later… I need to get to work now.

Oh yeah, I have today

Oh yeah, I have today and tomorrow off, so don’t expect much posting on Tuesday either. I love my new job. They are actually encouraging me to take the day off and haven’t called me to come in and save them from anything. They’re great, and I couldn’t be happier.

The Big Roundup – Part

The Big Roundup – Part One

Friday Night

Jen and I went to see No Doubt at the Charles E. Smith Center on the GW campus. We took a bus from the Park and Ride in Herndon, and then the Metro to Foggy Bottom. It was a surprisingly easy trip, and we got in and found our seats at 8 sharp (like I had planned it that way or something – of course I hadn’t). The people watching was amazing. We were three rows up from the main thoroughfare to the floor seats and we got a good look at pretty much everyone in attendance. They all filed past at one point or another. The audience broke down like so:

  • 65% MTV TRL Pre-teen – 25 year-old girls, all with Destiny’s Child single strap tops or variations on the belly shirt. After a while, it became crystal clear that there are people in this world who were meant to wear these shirts, and those who weren’t. 90% of the people wearing them shouldn’t have been.
  • 20% Frat Boys of various clothing schemes, mostly checking out the 65% listed above
  • 5% Parents of the pre-teen audience
  • 10% Old-School No Doubt fans aging from mid-20’s up to mid-fifites (maybe older). This was the group we were in.

The opening act, The Fate, was horrible. They want so much to be Rock Stars and fail completely. They have every rock band cliche. They have the Jim Morrison / Robert Smith wannabe frontman saying stupid things in ridiculous poses trying to make everyone think he’s sexy. You have the guitar playing flinging his floppy hair like one of the Ramone’s third cousins, and the keyboardist dry humping his instruments every time is has to play one of his three chords. They were not well received. Jen summed it up best, “Why didn’t they get a good old school ska band to open for them?”

Thankfully, No Doubt came out later and took care of the rocking. They were amazing. I’d never seen them before, and was never a really big fan before this. They put on an amazing show. Gwen Stefani is a god. She has the whole “I’m sexy, but can rock” thing to the next level. She has bravado and power and testosterone and blew everyone away. She and the rest of the band really know how to get an audience moving. It was great to watch.

I had a great time at the show, and am looking for other concerts we can go to this summer. I forgot how much fun live music is (duh, I know).

The trip home was… eventful. We missed the last bus back to the park and ride and ended up waiting at the bus stop for over an hour (putting us a about 12:30am on a Friday in downtown DC) for a bus going the wrong way. We ended up paying \$40 for a cab ride back to our car. Next time, we drive in.

I’ll update the rest of the weekend and this week later… I’m starting to fall asleep.

Third Time’s a Charm

This is the third time I’ve delete and restarted this post. I think it means it’s either time to stop or I have nothing to say. It’s a combination. I’m fried from three weeks of non-stop change and combustion. It’s turning my inner censor into Lenny Bruce’s inner demons. He’s telling me to say whatever comes to mind, and some of it’s making its way up my throat and out for public consumption. Case in point. Jen and Max were over at Mom’s tonight for dinner. I got there late because I went in for my CAT scan after work. The missionaries from Church were there, because mom feeds them it seems several times a week. So, I was sitting there recounting a meeting today at work and the word dumbass bubbled up and out it came. And I said it loudly. And in front of my wife, mother, little sister, God’s servants on this earth and my son. I need a vacation, dammit.

Oh yeah, I mentioned the CAT scan. It went a lot faster than I thought it would. The position was unbearable, but thankfully I only had to suffer for two minutes and boom it was all over. Now I’ll know whether the boogers have invaded my brain or not.

I also move on Tuesday. I get a door in a lovely little interior poffical on the fourth floor of CC2. So, since I’m leaving early tomorrow and will be out Monday and Tuesday, I started packing today. I have a lot of crap in my little pod, and it’s all going with me, I think. I have to be packed up tomorrow by 2, which should be fun.

Ok, that’s enough. I’ll hopefully be back tomorrow or Saturday with tales of my Teeny Bopper Concert Experience, my travels in the land of cryptography (old school, baby) and various other sundry things I’ve done since we last talked.