A Little Fib

Introduced Noah to the Fibonacci Sequence the other night.

“Here’s a pattern.  Write the number 1, then make the next number the sum of the previous two.”
“But there is only one number.”
“So what’s one plus nothing?”
“Oh, ok.” 1 1 2 3 5 8 13 “Hey, this isn’t a pattern.”
“What’s the next number?”
“If it’s not a pattern then how did you know?” <EvilGrin> He looks at me as if to say, “Smartypants.”  So he goes to 144 and decides to stop because “this is gonna get big really fast.” <proud dad>
So then I have him draw a square.  Then a square next to it.
“Now draw one here at this edge.  Now at this edge.  Now here.  How many squares wide is this one?”
He writes a 1 in the first one, then in the second, then 2, 3.
“Are these numbers familiar?”
“Draw another one.”
“How about now?”
“Well, I’m 8, and Liam is 1.”
“Keep going.”
“13. 21. 34. 55.”  !!!  “Hey, that’s the same pattern!  You’re tricky!”
Of course it lead to a nice little Google image search episode to see the original pattern and some examples of FibSeq in nature.  Next I’ll show him some architectural applications of the Golden Ratio, then on to the Mandelbrot Set.  Train a child up in the way he should go, and all that jazz.  .-)

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Posted by on December 16, 2010 in Uncategorized


18 Years, Today

Miss ya, Dad.  Wish we could play another round of darts.  Take another road trip.  Wish I’d had a chance to sit and have a beer and smoke a pipe with you.  Hear about your time in the war.  Know who you were when you were a kid.  When I was a kid.  Share another bowl of clam chowder.  Learn an off-color joke or song.  Learn something obscure, archaic or arcane.  Discuss sci-fi.  Play with fireworks and frisbees.  I miss your humor.  I miss your unconditional love and acceptance.  I miss your passion.  I miss you.

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Posted by on October 12, 2010 in Uncategorized


Mind blown by… Genesis?

No, not the band.  Yes, the book of the Bible.

I mean, yes, the whole thing really is good, and you get to the parts where so-and-so begat so-and-so, and so on and so forth, and you just read those with such anticipation that you just KNOW that God has something profound to tell you through it.
Ok, honesty time – I’ve never read the entire Bible, so I’m beginning now and really just thought I would skim those sections.  (Here is where my nerdy side comes in)  Something just felt strange about the numbers, so I actually studied it and realized that Noah was still alive when Abraham was born.  ???!!?!  Abraham was the 10th generation after Noah, so he was his great(x8) grandson.  In fact, Abraham’s entire lineage lived until he was at least 48, and some (his great -x7, x5 and x4-grandfathers) actually outlived him.
How is that for some heritage?  I think this must have quite a bit to do with Abraham believing God and it counting as his righteousness.
I know I never went to Bible school, but I’d have thought someone would have taught on this by now.  Off to read some more…


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Posted by on May 11, 2010 in Uncategorized


I hate July Third (AKA The road to Hell is paved with good intentions)

July 3rd marks the beginning of the most painful, sad, and destructive season of my life.  It’s the day, when I was 14 and my little brother was 10, that my mom “decided” (persuaded by some people in her new church) to come take us from our dad without telling him.  The season began the day before one of my favorite holidays, and ended 3 years, 5 months, and 3 weeks later (interestingly) on the eve of another of my favorite holidays.

At the time, I recognized the feelings of sadness, anger, and loneliness, but I didn’t realize until much later that those emotions were the result of imprisonment.  See, the decisions that were made “for my better good” were raltionalized by the motivation of love, but were carried out with a system of control.
It makes me wonder how often we rely on our own opinions, experiences, and theology to determine what other people “should” do, and the level of our own involvement in “making” that happen.  Did those above me act as they did because they loved me?  I’m sure they did.  Would my adolescent years have been more filled with peace and safety if they had relied on Holy Spirit’s guidance? Of that I have no doubt.
1 John 2:27
As for you, the anointing you received from him remains in you, and you do not need anyone to teach you. But as his anointing teaches you about all things and as that anointing is real, not counterfeit—just as it has taught you, remain in him.


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Posted by on July 3, 2009 in Uncategorized


This, however, I *did* write (a long time ago)

CAD upon a midnight dreary, bloodshot eyes welled up and teary
Revising a project that had changed a thousand times before
There I sat, not even blinking – into slumber I was sinking
Pots of coffee I was drinking, drinking to stay off the floor
“How long will this last?” I wondered, gazing at my office door
Had been there since the night before

Though fuzzy now, I still remember the hour of which my comembers
Abandoned me to alone dismember these drawings – what an awful chore!
Against all hope to hold back sorrow, vainly trying time to borrow
To finish that job before the morrow, tomorrow when I would sleep once more
Bed with pillow, couch, chair or floor
Tomorrow I would sleep once more

Where was my undo command? I thought I had them all at hand
I looked again, and there it was, where it had not been before
Deciding then to abdicate some recent work, I undid eight
Aghast, I realized my fate – I only meant to undo four
Stupid mistakes like this I invariably deplore
Forced again to redraw more

To make that wall a little longer so the shear force would be stronger
I had to change the roof slope and eliminate a door
Architect would not allow for that, there for the moment I just sat
Waiting for him to come back with a design he could adore
Nary a sound I heard as he entered, returning through my office door
Red ink upon the paper more

There upon my check plots peering, as I stood there, knowing, fearing,
Before he even gestured I knew that he had changed the plan some more
Finally the silence broken, as he started to betoken
The words from his mouth hardly spoken uttered changes I knew to abhor
“Flip the plan and change the elevation of the second floor
Merely this and nothing more”

“Can’t you just a button press to make more sense out of this mess?”
I said OK to appease him and send him from my space once more
Back to my workstation turning, anger towards him stronger burning,
Sure my next paycheck I’d be earning not only just a little more
This shock to my system must be worth not only just a little more
Started coffee pot number four

Music streaming from my speakers, helping me from growing weaker
Screaming songs to match the feeling of the hairdo that I wore
Nodding off and half awake, suddenly a double take
I pinched myself for dreaming’s sake – what now do my eyes absorb?
Everything was in its place, it appeared I had to do no more
I stood and breathed – a pallid countenance I no longer wore
I felt as though on sunny shore

And as I felt it, a glint of light shone in to aid me from my plight
Dawn’s radiant hues had lifted my soul – I could feel it in my core
But to chagrin my heart’s elation {Unhandled Access Violation}
“NO!” I screamed, “Not my creation!” I paced around my office floor
In desperation tried to get my drawing back to where it was before
Audit or recover, ultimately my file I could not restore
My drawing simply was no more

Though the morn was shining brilliant, and I thought myself resilient
My keyboard could not withstand the shock of my mouse hitting it with force
It was over, I conceded – by the deadline it was not completed
And I sat there, feeling defeated, rejected and forlorn
I looked at my computer, letting sink in the horror of that wretched morn
I turned my back, went home to sleep – trudged out my office door
And there I pledged it, “Nevermore”


Posted by on September 11, 2008 in Uncategorized


Enter the clone

So, a blog, eh?  I’ll start with a bit about myself.  First off, I’m not very good at blogging.  You will likely have to wade through 95% of what I say to get to something interesting, witty or deep.  But hey, that’s me.

The stats:
I have been married to the love of my life and my best friend for almost 8 years.  We have three awesome (and crazy) boys, with our 4th and final to be here next May.  We’re hoping for a girl.
God is good, and has rescued me constantly.
I grew up in the country.  No, really, the deep country of southern Trinity County, California, where there ain’t hardly nobody.  People who go camping would call my day-to-day life “roughing it.”  I miss the outdoors, and try to take every chance I get to get outside.
I like video games.  I like computers.  I have an extremely nerdy tendency toward information systems and process improvement.  Weird Al Yankovic can be counted among my heroes.
Of the following, only some apply to me:
(I didn’t write this)
I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice. I have been known to remodel train stations on my lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention. I translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees, I write award-winning operas, I manage time efficiently. Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row. I woo women with my sensuous and godlike trombone playing, I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and I cook Thirty-Minute Brownies in twenty minutes. I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Peru.

Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from a horde of ferocious army ants. I play bluegrass cello, I was scouted by the Mets, I am the subject of numerous documentaries. When I’m bored, I build large suspension bridges in my yard. I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays, after school, I repair electrical appliances free of charge.

I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie. Critics worldwide swoon over my original line of corduroy evening wear. I don’t perspire. I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail. I have been caller number nine and have won the weekend passes. Last summer I toured New Jersey with a traveling centrifugal-force demonstration. I bat 400. My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles. Children trust me.

I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read Paradise Lost, Moby Dick, and David Copperfield in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening. I know the exact location of every food item in the supermarket. I have performed several covert operations for the CIA. I sleep once a week; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me.

I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic, and my bills are all paid. On weekends, to let off steam, I participate in full-contact origami. Years ago I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down. I have made extraordinary four course meals using only a mouli and a toaster oven. I breed prizewinning clams. I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka, and spelling bees at the Kremlin. I have played Hamlet, I have performed open-heart surgery, and I have spoken with Elvis.

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Posted by on September 11, 2008 in Uncategorized