Dear Diary…

sm_rspca_diaryThis week was tumultuous.

James Aiken, a friend and the principal of my daughter’s school passed away this week at the age of 52. The funeral was Saturday in Cherryville, NC. It was about an hour and a half drive by car.

Work was having a Disaster Event this weekend. A Disaster Event is a planned event that we say, “OK, a giant sink hole opened up underneath our production facility. All systems are down and unreachable. Get our disaster site up and running immediately. Ready. Set. Go.” And of course I had a mistake that was brought to light during the exercise which I had to fix.

I got a hair up my butt, and decided to answer the question, “Who watches the watchmen?” The answer of course was “I did last night.” A friend of mine and I decided to catch the 9:30 p.m. showing. I knew it was a long movie, so I set up my playlist early. I recorded and queued some talkie bits. I even set up a multi-million-meat giveaway. But when I tried to connect to the CLAM Shoutcast server at 8:30 p.m. Eastern Time (Sunday morning, 01:30 UT) I received a password error. I didn’t have time to trouble shoot it.

When I got back home, still in good time for Intraweb Radios, there was a pit bull in my front yard. I had a hard time getting out of the car. But soon came to realize that this particular dog was friendly, thirsty, and cold. I got her some water and a blanket. She wanted to come in the house, but it was just after midnight, my kids were sleeping, and I have a dog. Imagine the ruckus that would have caused… “My dog and this dog wake up my kids. My wife goes for the butcher knife… not for the dogs but for me.” Just my imagination, but probably not far from the truth. So I wrapped this sweet little pit bull in a blanket and sat with her, out in the cold, waiting for animal control to come pick her up.

When I finally got online, I found the Shoutcast server accepting my login information, but no audience. So instead I watched the final episode of Battlestar Galactica — good ending.

One comment.

  1. Just a slight correction to my story: Today my wife talked to a gentleman in our neighborhood who owns a pit bull. I feared that I sent his dog to the pound. It wasn’t his dog. He had seen this dog around his house also and said it wasn’t a pit bull, but was a boxer instead. I’ll take his word as an authority on pit bulls, being an owner of one.

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