Quotations

When I was in college, one of my hobbies was collecting quotes. Since it was the early days of the internet (at least before most people knew about the internet, the days of 56k modems and bulletin boards), I decided to make a webpage. One of the first things I did was start a quotation page. As I said, this was the early days of the internet, so my 200+ quotes was actually a huge number by the standards of the day. After a couple of years, someone even thought highly enough about my page that he plagiarized it. Of course, taking quotes from my page was fine, but I did object to wholesale copying of my page...

When I was in grad school, I discovered that one of my pages was actually referenced in a journal article. I had trolled the internet for a while trying to find the proper citation for the quote, "There are three kinds of lies: lies, damned lies, and statistics." Most sources listed Mark Twain, but he thought it came from Benjamin Disraeli. Benjamin Disraeli is not known to have said it however. Anyway, my explanation got cited which I thought was pretty cool.

But, that was college. I really haven't touched the quotation page I set up since then, except to transfer it from my school's computer system to Geocities. Recently, Yahoo has decided to close Geocities, so my pages are going to be taken down before the end of the month. I spent some time today copying all the files to my computer.

Anyway, I thought I'd share the quotes from one of my favorite sources Publilius Syrus. He was an ancient Roman who came up with a number of clever sentences. Many of them are relatively common today, and most are just as pertinent:

• Anyone can hold the helm when the sea is calm.
• To do two things at once is to do neither.
• The eyes are not responsible when the mind does the seeing.
• God looks at the clean hands, not the full ones.
• As men, we are all equal in the presence of death.
• We are interested in others when they are interested in us.
• Every one excels in something in which another fails.
• A god could hardly love and be wise.
• Learn to see in another's calamity the ills which you should avoid.
• Many receive advice, few profit by it.
• You should hammer your iron when it is glowing hot.
• What is left when honour is lost?
• When Fortune flatters, she does it to betray.
• Fortune is like glass,--the brighter the glitter, the more easily broken.
• It is more easy to get a favour from fortune than to keep it.
• There are some remedies worse than the disease.
• Powerful indeed is the empire of habit.
• When two do the same thing, it is not the same thing after all.
• No tears are shed when an enemy dies.
• The bow too tensely strung is easily broken.
• Treat your friend as if he might become an enemy.
• The judge is condemned when the criminal is acquitted.
• When innocence is frightened, the judge is condemned.
• Practice is the best of all instructors.
• Never find your delight in another's misfortune.
• The fear of death is more to be dreaded than death itself.
• A rolling stone gathers no moss.
• Never promise more than you can perform.
• It is not every question that deserves an answer.
• No man is happy who does not think himself so.
• Never find your delight in another's misfortune.
• A guilty conscience never feels secure.
• Familiarity breeds contempt.
• It is a very hard undertaking to seek to please everybody.
• It matters not what you are thought to be, but what you are.
• No one knows what he can do till he tries.
• It matters not how long you live, but how well.
• Everything is worth what its purchaser will pay for it.
• Better be ignorant of a matter than half know it.
• Prosperity makes friends, adversity tries them.
• Let a fool hold his tongue and he will pass for a sage.
• It is a consolation to the wretched to have companions in misery.
• Confession of our faults is the next thing to innocency.
• I have often regretted my speech, never my silence.
• Speech is a mirror of the soul: as a man speaks, so is he.
• In quarreling the truth is always lost.
• No one reaches a high position without daring.
• For a good cause, crime is virtuous.
• No pleasure endures unseasoned by variety.
• Beware the fury of a patient man
• It is only the ignorant who despise education.
• Do not despise the bottom rungs in the ascent to greatness.
• He who flees from trial confesses his guilt.
• It is his nature, not his standing, that makes a good man.
• You can accomplish by kindness what you cannot do by force.
• A friendship that can end never really began.
• It's a bad plan that can't be changed.
• An angry man is again angry with himself when he returns to reason.
• The remedy for wrongs is to forget them.
• From the errors of others a wise man corrects his own.
• It is better to learn late than never.
• A Rooster has great influence on its own dunghill

Weekend

I went down to Knoxville this weekend for my niece's 1st birthday. I would say birthday party, and that was the original intent, but the party was postponed until today, and I got back last night.

On the second leg of my flight down, I shared the flight with a Washington Redskin. His behavior, while not deplorable, still didn't shine the best light on him. He spent a good deal of the flight chatting up the flight attendant (not that I could blame him). When he found out she wanted to be a journalist, he began complaining about sports journalists and how "we" hate them (upon getting home and trying to identify which player it was on the flight, I came to realize why "he" wouldn't like journalists). Anyway, rather than make snarky comments, I'll close this anecdote with an observation, he was listed at 6'5 1/2", but appeared to be at least an inch, more likely two inches shorter than I am. Although it is hard to tell in the confines of an airplane that might have had six feet of headroom total.

My niece is well on the way to being a real person. She is just starting to walk and seems to be able to understand some of what is going on around her. I was hoping to hear her say something, but it all sounded like baby babble to me. Although she does seem to understand shaking her head to say no (which I mostly got when I tried to pick her up).

Apparently I am still too much of a stranger for Veronica to enjoy being around. Although Melanie says she was a bit grumpy because she is getting a new tooth in. Also she was a bit out of sorts because Melanie was sick and couldn't play with her.

So, Melanie found out she had Strep on Friday. Just in time to tell me before I got on the flight down. I didn't change my plans as a result, but the party was pushed back from Saturday till Monday, so Melanie wouldn't get people/children who came to the party sick. It is also hard to setup a party from quarantine.

One of the "upsides" was that I got to bake the cake for Veronica. Not the really cool bear cake Melanie ended up making for the actual party, but just a normal cake. It was actually the first time I'd made a cake from scratch, and it turned out pretty well, especially with Melanie helping as she could. The icing I made ended up being a little too soft to make great decorations (I was going to try to make icing roses), but it tasted pretty good.

When it came time for birthday cake, Veronica didn't demolish the cake as Melanie and I were expecting. We gave her a big slice and she delicately pulled crumbs off the corners. No handful of frosting, no big mess. But it was still a good time.

Cigarette Butts

I went shopping for my niece's birthday after work today. It was actually a rather refreshing experience for me. Being big and tall, it is very frustrating for me to go clothes shopping, since I am limited to a handful of stores and basically none of the specialty shops have anything. But for my niece, I didn't have to worry about sizes. Also, I didn't really have to worry about if anything matched because they were little outfits.

Anyway, the real reason for this blog isn't shopping for my niece. Because after I went shopping, I went to dinner, which was good but still not the subject of the story. It is what happened as I was walking out of the restaurant. There was a guy taking off the top of one of those cigarette disposal poles. About 2 inches wide column with holes on the sides that flares down at the bottom. Anyway the guy was searching through the disposed of cigarettes for something to smoke.

I have seen homeless people, at least that's how they look, in the past pick up cigarettes from the street and smoking them. But this seemed worse that than. I suppose it's pretty much the same in reality, but it is still a bit disturbing. Kind of like an alcoholic drinking the dregs of other people's drinks at a bar. Anyway, it made me wonder if he's driven to it entirely from the addiction to cigarettes or for the enjoyment he gets from the smoking. Similarly for the homeless people who spend their nickels and dimes to buy alcohol instead of food. Are they that strongly addicted, or do they crave the escape the alcohol gives them.

Another thing that I was reminded of was an old math problem. A man figures out a way to unroll cigarette butts and combine them together to form new cigarettes. It takes five cigarettes to create a new cigarette. If they man finds 25 cigarette butts, how many cigarettes can he smoke?

Future Me

Last night while drifting in and out of sleep, I was thinking about the past. Specifically, I was wondering where in my past I would go to have a talk with myself about the past me's future which would be my present. What pivotal time could I arrive and give myself the advise I needed. I quickly identified times in my life where small changes would have the most profound far reaching effects. I was pondering what I would say to make sure those effects were to my benefit.

That's when future me showed up. "Past-me," he said, "I'm current-me, but you can call me future-me." He looked like me, only he wasn't quite me. There was something in his eye that held a little more regret, and a little more hope. I asked future-me what happened to me in the future, but future-me didn't want to talk about his past, he wanted to talk about my future.

"But future-me, my future is your past," I said.

He shook his head and said, "It doesn't have to be. There are a few pivotal times in a person's life when small changes can have a large impact on the future. Just by talking to you today, I have ensured that when I go back to my current time, my life will be profoundly different. I'm just here to give you the advise you need to make sure the current I go back to is better than the current I left."

"So future-me, what advise will make sure that happens?"

"Past-me," he said, "you were just coming up with a list of advise for your past-me, weren't you?"

"Yes, actually I was."

"Follow it."

I hate feeling trapped

This is something I have always known, but the concept finally crystallized yesterday as I was attempting to take the subway home... I had to work yesterday, even though it was a holiday (an entirely different rant involved there), and as I usually do I went down into the subway to catch the T home. By the time I walked the length of the station the announcement came on that the next train going my way was about to arrive. After about five minutes (I could see the train in the tunnel) another announcement came on that there was a delay.

By the time another five minutes had gone by, I was pacing like a caged animal. I was already stressed because of work, and the delay of the train only added to that. My pacing grew worse and I could almost feel my brain shorting. Every few minutes there was another announcement that there were switching problems causing the delay.

Finally I was fed up and left the station. As soon as I left the station, I started feeling better. I walked across the bridge, passing one train as it sit there waiting for the signal problems to be fixed. Eventually the train passed me, but I was nearly to the next station by that point. So I went into that station and it wasn't too long before I got on another train. Progress was slow, but steady.

As I paced, and walked and rode, I reflected how much I hate feeling trapped. For instance, traffic, I hate it. Not because of the time wasted and the morons surrounding me (although obviously those matter) but because I can't move as I want to move. In relatively light traffic, I find I pass people, just so they aren't in front of me, not necessarily because I want to drive faster, but because I want the option. If there are packs on the road, as there often are, I speed up or slow down so I am between the groups and not hemmed in.

At the movies, I sit near the aisle. I prefer sitting in the center, but I tend to sit close enough to the side that there is no one between me and the aisle. I haven't had to run to the bathroom during a movie for a long time, but I like to have the option of getting up easily. Same thing on airplanes, I always get the aisle seat. Generally I am fine during the flight, but once we land and everyone starts standing up, but the doors haven't opened, I feel my blood pressure rising. I just need to escape the plane.

But it isn't just physical confinement that bothers me. I also hate emotional, societal, and psychological confinement. In fact, sometimes the mental fetters are the oddest and most profound. For instance, I have always hated being labeled, or having someone comment that I always do something or that something is my favorite. I find that I change to avoid being that.

When I was young, I had a blanket (I still have it). When we would watch TV at night as a family, I would often get it out of my room and use it to keep warm and comfortable. One day my dad commented that it was a security blanket. I don't think he meant anything by the comment, but I stopped using that blanket when watching TV with the family.

That is probably the oddest/harshest aspect... That someone's expectations of what I am/like/do can somehow rob the enjoyment I take from being/liking/doing. Maybe if I can see that I am trapping myself I can sort this all out.

Because one of the things I have always felt was missing from my life was a sense of belonging. Perhaps trying to belong, felt too much like being trapped and it triggered panic. I have felt the sense of belonging, in small doses. Going to a restaurant and having the waitress know what I wanted to eat, and how I liked it.

A foolish constistency is the hobgoblin of little minds... What kind of mind is foolish inconsistency the hobgoblin of?

Sensitivity

I always thought things were supposed to dull over time. That we become inured to the things around us. Perhaps not just things...

But I've been finding that I seem to have become more sensitive to things. The other day I went to Roller Derby, and the people sitting next to me were smokers. I've always been sensitive to cigarette smoke, but it's getting ridiculous. Between matches, the people behind me left and were replaced with a whole row of smokers. By the time the second bout was over, I had to flee because I was getting an asthma attack from the smoke that lingered on them.

I've also noticed that I can sometimes smell my neighbors cooking from inside of my condo. The scent has to travel through two closed doors, across a hallway, and however far it is from their kitchen to their door.

It isn't just my sense of smell. I doubt if my hearing has actually gotten any better, but sounds, even subtle sounds pick at my attention. It amazes me when I can hear someone else's music on the subway, over the noise of the train and the music from my own earbuds.

Then there are people...

Mint Juleps and the Kentucky Derby

Today was the Kentucky Derby and in celebration (perhaps it would be more correct to say that the Derby inspired...) I made mint juleps and had some friends over. I had never had a mint julep before, let alone made one, so there was a learning curve involved.

The first thing I learned is that crushed ice is much better than regular ice. Nearly everyone commented that the further through the drink they got, the better the julep became. At first I thought it was a matter of mixing the drink, but later I became convinced it was the ice melting and mixing with the other ingredients, mellowing and accenting the flavors.

The big question on my mind was whether to bruise the mint or not. Really the jury is still out for the most part. I used infused simple syrup, rather than plain syrup. The infused syrup had nearly two days to absorb the essential oils from the mint leaves (both the bruised and unbruised). So the difference in flavor was relatively slight. Then there is the matter of the mint leaves turning black when they are crushed... Since I spooned the syrup in, I didn't need to spoon in the leaves, so there were no bits of black leaf in the drinks.

Of course, I also added leaves to the glasses. Here I believe there could have been a difference. If I had used a non-infused syrup, and unbruised leaf would not release much flavor in the course of drinking. But a good deal of the taste actually comes from the smell, so again it likely wouldn't make a big difference.

So, in conclusion, I would go with unbruised mint leaves more for the aesthetic values than the flavor, given the almost unnoticeable difference in the later.

As for the Derby... I don't know if it was the most exciting two minutes in sports, but it was definitely fun to watch. It was a very muddy track, and during the rather extensive pre-race coverage they showed the mud zambonie a number of times. I was pulling for "Hold me Back" but he was held back and didn't finish in the money.

The winner, "Mine That Bird" sparked much debate... Is the "Mine" the explosive type or the underground mineral deposit type, or simply the possessive form? Are we digging for birds? Taking birds into coal mines? Whatever the case may be, congratulations.