After my disasterous summer as an Intern for Georgia Pacific, I was convinced that a degree in Forestry just wasn't in the cards. Looking around, the Agronomy program was able to get me out with the least amount of additional classes. For those of you who never wandered into the agriculture side of your local A&M university, Agronomy is the science of Soil. Yes, Dirt.
My into to Agronomy course was a 7am, Monday, Wednesday and Tursday, with a lab somewhere in the week. It was run by a crusty old coot who had been the Dean of the school of Argiculture twenty years previous, and was too mean to quit teaching. All I remember about him is that he woke up every day at 4 am and he collected bicycles.
In one of the first lectures, he was explaining that soil density was measured in Kilograms per square yard. I could see that it was going to be a long year.
I don't remember too much else about that year, except that I helped out with a Merit Badge University hosted by our chapter of Alpha Phi Omega for the area Boy Scouts. I had been spending a lot of time in the computer labs in the basement of Parker Hall. If it wasn't for the fact that my only access to the Internet was through the campus network, I probably wouldn't have been in school then. During MBU, I overheard one of the adult leaders talking about starting an Internet Service Provider in Birmingham, and how he was looking for an admin to help out. This eventually led to my first gig in IT.
In the summer of 1995, I started working for Southern Network Services, who had by this time bought out the smaller business that I had been working for. I moved to Birmingham for the Summer and worked in an office, wore a tie and everything. I had a good time working, but eventually I realized that I wasn't making anything close to a fair wage (I was making about $7.50/hr), and that if I was going to continue in the field I needed to get a higher paying job. To me, this meant going back to school, so I took off back for Auburn and hung out at the parents house until winter quarter.
In 1996 I changed my major to Communications, and applied myself to school like I had never done before. The Engineering Secretary, who was apparently in charge of admissions to the program, was convinced that I wasn't smart enough, despite having been accepted to the program once before. She did let me take once CSE course and one EE course, both of which were open to non-engineering majors. I kicked ass in the CSE course (of course), but barely passed the Digital Logic course. This was the beginning of the end for my college career. At the end of that summer, I received a letter informing me that I had failed to maintain the grades necessary to remain enrolled, and that I was on suspension.
It was time to start over.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Friday, September 4, 2009
GoGo In-Flight Internet on Delta
I've used this service a few times and I've got to say that I'm impressed. I was afraid that the concept was good, but the execution would suck. GoGo is doing a good job, and has excellent customer service.
For my trip home from Atlanta, I signed on and started checking my work email, since there were still co-workers on-site who needed help. My seat neighbor signed on too, and I noticed that he had a lower price. Never one to let it alone, I contacted GoGo customer service and complained. They checked my flight number, verified that I was charged the wrong price, and gave me a coupon code for a free connection on my next flight.
Lesson learned: GoGo has different rate plans for different routes. Shorter flights are $5.95, medium length flights are $9.95, and coast-to-coast flights are $12.95. If you see the wrong price, wait a minute and refresh the screen - you might get a better price.
For my trip home from Atlanta, I signed on and started checking my work email, since there were still co-workers on-site who needed help. My seat neighbor signed on too, and I noticed that he had a lower price. Never one to let it alone, I contacted GoGo customer service and complained. They checked my flight number, verified that I was charged the wrong price, and gave me a coupon code for a free connection on my next flight.
Lesson learned: GoGo has different rate plans for different routes. Shorter flights are $5.95, medium length flights are $9.95, and coast-to-coast flights are $12.95. If you see the wrong price, wait a minute and refresh the screen - you might get a better price.
Interlude 2 - Indianapolis, IN
I am of the opinion that very few things should be illegal, but the deep-fried biscuits from Squealers BBQ in Indianapolis, IN should definitely be on the no-fly list. Why? Anything that good in unholy. Try the St. Louis style ribs, and be prepared to pay for it the next day.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Interlude - Indianapolis, IN
I spend about 12-15 weeks a year on the road. Sometimes it's more; sometimes less. Since I've started working out, I've started paying attention to the gyms in the hotels that I stay in. I've got to say that it's hit-or-miss. The resort we stayed at in Florida was awesome, as is the Embassy Suites that I'm staying in now.
I was also impressed with the YMCA here in Indy (the one on Westfield Blvd. is awesome). If you live in Indy and you're looking for a place to work out, check out the Y's in your area, there's one near you.
I was also impressed with the YMCA here in Indy (the one on Westfield Blvd. is awesome). If you live in Indy and you're looking for a place to work out, check out the Y's in your area, there's one near you.
Monday, August 31, 2009
The College Years, cont'd
My Freshman year at Auburn I was in College ROTC. All through High School, I wanted to be an Army Officer. I was in Junior ROTC, so that's not surprising. What was surprising was the amount of running, push-ups and sit-ups involved, especially the running.
I was great at hiking. I could walk all day long. The previous summer I backpacked 300 miles in the mountains of New Mexico and Colorado, so it never occurred to me that I would ever have to run anywhere. All of the books I read talked about sitting in a foxhole, standing guard duty, or sleeping in the mud. My father, who was drafted into the army in 1956, apparently spent his time in Basic Training painting Santa Claus and his eight reindeer for the base commander. He never mentioned having to run once, although he did talk a lot about the wonderful food in Vicenza, Italy where he was stationed. So it was a big surprise that early one morning a crusty sergeant told me to run two miles.
You see, a healthy soldier will recover from injuries faster. A soldier that is at the optimum weight for his height is easier to carry off the battlefield. And - this one took me years to figure out - somethings you need to run away from.
Three mornings a week we gathered at 5:30 am on the drill field for pushups, situps, squat thrusts, stretching and finally, a run around campus. Sometimes we would run in formation at a nice, leisurely pace; sometimes we would run inside the coliseum at our own pace. On the weeks that the Dallas Cowboys won (a lot that season), we got to take the next Monday morning off. We were still expected to pass the PT test that everyone else in the army took, and we were expected to pass it.
To pass, we were required to score at least 60% in each of the three events: push-ups, sit-ups and a two mile run. I sucked at push-ups (I've always lacked upper body strength) and could squeeze out twenty or thirty on a good day. Luckily, I needed 22 to pass. After a while I got really good at sit-ups, so I could bang out 60 or so in two minutes. For the run we had to do two miles in 15:54 for 60%. I Don't think I ever got close to that - in fact I think I got worse as the year went by. My best score was probably in the 17:00 range.
Late in the year one of the senior instructors called me into his office and broke the news that I had lost my scholarship due to grades, or lack thereof. He explained to me that if I really wanted to be an officer, that I should change majors to something a little easier (I was an Engineering major), and suggested Forestry. We also had a nice little chat about my PT scores and how they needed to improve with a quickness.
I wound up changing majors to Forestry, which was the biggest mistake I think I've ever made. I gave up ROTC and dreams of becoming an officer, but I got stuck in that godforsaken major. After a year of classes and a summer of working for Georgia Pacific as an intern, I decided I wasn't cut out for the job (too many snakes, yellow jackets, briars, brambles, thorns and beaver ponds for my taste) and that what I needed was to get out as quickly as possible.
I was great at hiking. I could walk all day long. The previous summer I backpacked 300 miles in the mountains of New Mexico and Colorado, so it never occurred to me that I would ever have to run anywhere. All of the books I read talked about sitting in a foxhole, standing guard duty, or sleeping in the mud. My father, who was drafted into the army in 1956, apparently spent his time in Basic Training painting Santa Claus and his eight reindeer for the base commander. He never mentioned having to run once, although he did talk a lot about the wonderful food in Vicenza, Italy where he was stationed. So it was a big surprise that early one morning a crusty sergeant told me to run two miles.
You see, a healthy soldier will recover from injuries faster. A soldier that is at the optimum weight for his height is easier to carry off the battlefield. And - this one took me years to figure out - somethings you need to run away from.
Three mornings a week we gathered at 5:30 am on the drill field for pushups, situps, squat thrusts, stretching and finally, a run around campus. Sometimes we would run in formation at a nice, leisurely pace; sometimes we would run inside the coliseum at our own pace. On the weeks that the Dallas Cowboys won (a lot that season), we got to take the next Monday morning off. We were still expected to pass the PT test that everyone else in the army took, and we were expected to pass it.
To pass, we were required to score at least 60% in each of the three events: push-ups, sit-ups and a two mile run. I sucked at push-ups (I've always lacked upper body strength) and could squeeze out twenty or thirty on a good day. Luckily, I needed 22 to pass. After a while I got really good at sit-ups, so I could bang out 60 or so in two minutes. For the run we had to do two miles in 15:54 for 60%. I Don't think I ever got close to that - in fact I think I got worse as the year went by. My best score was probably in the 17:00 range.
Late in the year one of the senior instructors called me into his office and broke the news that I had lost my scholarship due to grades, or lack thereof. He explained to me that if I really wanted to be an officer, that I should change majors to something a little easier (I was an Engineering major), and suggested Forestry. We also had a nice little chat about my PT scores and how they needed to improve with a quickness.
I wound up changing majors to Forestry, which was the biggest mistake I think I've ever made. I gave up ROTC and dreams of becoming an officer, but I got stuck in that godforsaken major. After a year of classes and a summer of working for Georgia Pacific as an intern, I decided I wasn't cut out for the job (too many snakes, yellow jackets, briars, brambles, thorns and beaver ponds for my taste) and that what I needed was to get out as quickly as possible.
The College Years
In college I found friends and freedom. I remember having my first beer, and thinking hey this isn't so bad. The second one was good. All the rest were really good.
I turned into a beer snob, only drinking the best I could find, turning my nose up at Milwaukee's Beast because "it all tastes the same anyway". I wasn't so stuck up about the food I ate. Pizza, wings, hamburgers, It was the diet de jour. Somehow I managed to get an ID card from the manager at Wendy's, which gave me a 10% discount. I ate there almost every day, always getting the single with cheese combo - $2.87 with tax.
Every Wednesday night was wing night at a local restauraunt called Ryans (not the all-you-can-eat buffet place). $5.99 for all the wings you could cram into your head. I had a friend - we'll call him Piehole - who prided himself on his ability to eat and not gain weight. He would brag about going to Cheeburger-Cheeburger and eating two of their one-pound hamburgers. You got your picture on the wall every time you finished one, and he got his put up twice that day.
Anyway, on Wing nights, Piehole and I would try to see who could eat the most wings. If you're not familiar with hot wings (who isn't?), they're chicken wings that have been seperated at the joints, deep fried without breading and soaked in a butter-hotsauce mixture. They're served with celery and a side of either Ranch or Bleu Cheese dressing. We're talking 75-100 calories, each. We would eat something like 100 of them, and be proud of it. Of course, Piehole liked to run 12 miles a day, so he never had a problem. I went from 185 to 215 that first year.
I turned into a beer snob, only drinking the best I could find, turning my nose up at Milwaukee's Beast because "it all tastes the same anyway". I wasn't so stuck up about the food I ate. Pizza, wings, hamburgers, It was the diet de jour. Somehow I managed to get an ID card from the manager at Wendy's, which gave me a 10% discount. I ate there almost every day, always getting the single with cheese combo - $2.87 with tax.
Every Wednesday night was wing night at a local restauraunt called Ryans (not the all-you-can-eat buffet place). $5.99 for all the wings you could cram into your head. I had a friend - we'll call him Piehole - who prided himself on his ability to eat and not gain weight. He would brag about going to Cheeburger-Cheeburger and eating two of their one-pound hamburgers. You got your picture on the wall every time you finished one, and he got his put up twice that day.
Anyway, on Wing nights, Piehole and I would try to see who could eat the most wings. If you're not familiar with hot wings (who isn't?), they're chicken wings that have been seperated at the joints, deep fried without breading and soaked in a butter-hotsauce mixture. They're served with celery and a side of either Ranch or Bleu Cheese dressing. We're talking 75-100 calories, each. We would eat something like 100 of them, and be proud of it. Of course, Piehole liked to run 12 miles a day, so he never had a problem. I went from 185 to 215 that first year.
The Beginning
I wasn't always big. I remember being thin, as a small child. I guess I started to put on weight in first or second grade, or at least I remember being teased for my weight starting about then.
When I was in elementary school, I was in a program called "Gifted and Talented". I never really considered myself either, but apparently I qualified. The problem with being in a class with a bunch of really smart kids is that they find really creative ways to be cruel to you.
By the time I got into Junior High, 7th or 8th grade, I wasn't really fat, but my body image was set. There was no way that I could imagine myself as anything other than as a "Fat Kid".
In High School I started to become more active. I had been camping with the Boy Scouts for years, but as I got older I started participating in more physical activities. The summer between my Junior and Senior year I went to a Boy Scout camp in Northern New Mexico called Philmont, where I was in the Rayado program. For two weeks we hiked and backpacked in the Sangre de Cristo mountains, and I had the best time. I started out really out of shape, but by the time I got home (I spent seven weeks total there, but that's another story) I was lean and mean.
My Senior year of High School was probably the most active of my life. I was in shape. I worked out daily getting myself ready for college ROTC. Towards the end of the year I developed a touchy stomach. I'm sure I provided lots of entertainment for my friends, running to the bathroom to puke at odd times. Many years later I recognized the signs of panic attacks.
After High School, I took two summer jobs. The first was at the Auburn University Printing Plant, doing general scut work and eventually delivering books and other publications. The second was at the University Police Department as a night security guard. I actually got paid to walk around campus at night. That summer I lost about 40 pounds, putting my college starting weight at 185.
When I was in elementary school, I was in a program called "Gifted and Talented". I never really considered myself either, but apparently I qualified. The problem with being in a class with a bunch of really smart kids is that they find really creative ways to be cruel to you.
By the time I got into Junior High, 7th or 8th grade, I wasn't really fat, but my body image was set. There was no way that I could imagine myself as anything other than as a "Fat Kid".
In High School I started to become more active. I had been camping with the Boy Scouts for years, but as I got older I started participating in more physical activities. The summer between my Junior and Senior year I went to a Boy Scout camp in Northern New Mexico called Philmont, where I was in the Rayado program. For two weeks we hiked and backpacked in the Sangre de Cristo mountains, and I had the best time. I started out really out of shape, but by the time I got home (I spent seven weeks total there, but that's another story) I was lean and mean.
My Senior year of High School was probably the most active of my life. I was in shape. I worked out daily getting myself ready for college ROTC. Towards the end of the year I developed a touchy stomach. I'm sure I provided lots of entertainment for my friends, running to the bathroom to puke at odd times. Many years later I recognized the signs of panic attacks.
After High School, I took two summer jobs. The first was at the Auburn University Printing Plant, doing general scut work and eventually delivering books and other publications. The second was at the University Police Department as a night security guard. I actually got paid to walk around campus at night. That summer I lost about 40 pounds, putting my college starting weight at 185.
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