Jelena Jankovic has mojo

I'm going to swing off topic onto another topic I enjoy - tennis!

Does anyone else follow Wimbledon?

I have to admit, I admire a player who shows emotion. There are those who might look down on Jankovic's performance today because she tossed her racket in the grass. Ah! But who wouldn't in a game like that?

A 27 hit rally! A baseline war! A marathon! What a game.

In the end, they were both good sports.

Jankovic stole my heart today. I'd love for her to move on, but I think Henin has her number.

Fantastic and The Best

Amazing. I find it touching that some many people took the time to reply to my silly game. I haven't had a chance to look at all of them - I wanted to say thanks first. It brightens my day.

I've updated this: I wanted to put Mokey2rocks's post on the "top page".

Poster

Oh, and one more! This will blow your mind.

You Flare

But before I go!

Let's get back on topic. I wanted to post here about some of the cool images I've found online. I've sent up a few flares, but now it's your turn. Post your favorite solar images or movies in the comments.

See if you can surprise me.

Exit, right

I'm heading out of town tomorrow for the day on a business trip. I might post again while I'm away.

Shameless

Who are you to play with my emotions?

Maybe I'm being too forward. Maybe this was all a bad idea. I'm being too forward.

It's not like she's lost. She's a teenager doing thoughtless teenager things, for heaven's sake! But she'll be back, that I know.

I'm so drained. Blasted damned headache is back. Blasted damned internet is out to get me. I've got enough on my plate. I've got real work to do.

But mark my words. My daughter is not your problem.

Aggravation

I have already purchased a pack of generic Ibuprofen and have been popping pills all day. If it's not my head aching, it's my back.

There is something decidedly strange about the internet. Or at least, about blogging. I can say things here, into the black ether, that I wouldn't say in public. Or even in private. I'm saying them to strangers. To this following I have.

Why it's so easy to talk here? So many other forms of communication are difficult.

I'll share this much. It's probably obvious.. My daughter, my only daughter, does not care to talk with me anymore. I won't get into the details. It's been a challenging year for her and she's been making mistake after mistake. She's trended towards irresponsibility for years now. Part of me realizes that going to college is a right of passage - this is her coming of age. But I don't... I don't see it. Does that make sense? She's a child! She'd not old enough to drink, or even be drafted. She should be worried about her grades. Or should have been. She should have gotten a summer job, rather than heading off God knows where for weeks on end. She could...

She should listen to me. I know better. I've lived.

Coulda
Shoulda.
Woulda.

Right.

No then yes, yes then no

I feel like I'm losing Hope, literally and figuratively.

I'm just full of wisdom

So today I took a drive to the coast. It's one of those things I like to do during the summer. I went and had breakfast at a little place that just opened. A lovely stack of pancakes with blueberry flavored maple syrup. Black coffee - rather good coffee, actually. And, of course, a side of turkey bacon. All delicious. Simple, but elegant. I spent about two hours sitting. I'd brought the paper and read about how firstborns are smarter. Well, I only had one and she's smart enough, I suppose, but full of spunk. Finished, refreshed, my back feeling better - gosh, I am getting old! - I go to pay.

And lo! I have no wallet. Turns out I left it at home. I drove, I ate, I lounged. But cannot pay. I was incredibly embarrassed.

So I just returned from a second trip to the coast - the "paying" trip. All my morning glow is gone. I'm bitter with myself.

Haha

My back hurts. Okay, not funny. The joke's on me.

I'll be doggone

She's coming home. Finally. She's been away with friends in Portland. Or camping. She's not being clear with me. She's probably not being honest, really. Is it old fashioned that I demand honesty from my friends and family?

I'll be off most of the day. Cleaning out the attic. Or trying to.

V&V

Remember 2006?

Mausumi Dikpati of the National Center for Atmospheric Research (NCAR): "The next sunspot cycle will be 30% to 50% stronger than the previous one," she says. If correct, the years ahead could produce a burst of solar activity second only to the historic Solar Max of 1958.

Dikpati's prediction is unprecedented. In nearly-two centuries since the 11-year sunspot cycle was discovered, scientists have struggled to predict the size of future maxima—and failed. Solar maxima can be intense, as in 1958, or barely detectable, as in 1805, obeying no obvious pattern.

Embarrassing rubbish. And appalling assumptions.

Nature's light shows. Nowadays we can handle such bursts. Perhaps - perhaps - you might find your cell phone mildly under-performing for a few hours. But a blackout like in 1989 Quebec... unlikely today.

And with that - off to bed.

A new era

I've been discovered. I can't decide whether or not I'm bothered. I suppose I'll answer a few posts.

You're a gem, H

Thanks for the note.

Better late than never.

Who am I to say no

Sometimes I hope the predictions are correct. Sometimes, when I get mad enough, I do wish the sun would just explode. I know where I'm going when it comes. Do you?

Of course they aren't correct. Solar flares are mild washes of radiation in the scheme of things. At worst we'll have to shield-up our power lines. There's a lot of military technology that could go dual-use in this regard. Remember 1989? They mildly disrupted the Canadian power grids. Not much to write home about.

And Big Government wants to spend billions on this.

The fascination with a Sicko

My god! The liberal media is explosive with its "news" coverage of the latest Moorian con job. Oh woe is America that we haven't all perfect health and brilliant health care. The whole world but us has everything just perfect. Gads. It's people like this who deserve to be sent off somewhere. Just leave if you don't like it here. Go on, I'll buy you a ticket. I'm tired of all the slander.

Show me a system that gets it right all the time? The Cubans? Shall we live under a red dictatorship? Shall we tax the healthy to pay for the sick? Bah! Everyone is in charge of their own life, and thus their own health. Health is about responsibility. I cannot understand where a man becomes to lazy that he expects a hospital's ER to care for his, say, flu.

I'm sick right now. I'm at least not feeling well. What do I do about it? I rest. I make chicken soup. I take two Advil and drink water. I don't expect some doctor to have to come to my home and spoon feed me.

And of course it's the immigrants who soak up the vast sum of our resources. Soak it up like a sponge and what do we get back from them?

Yard trimmings.

Alright

I've decided to stay in bed. I'm taking notes for myself now. Rather than bookmarking nifty images, I'll post them here. Then I can easily review them.

I'm going to name them, too. I discovered the ability to give names to my links, so I've renamed my other links, too. Anything to keep myself entertained!

Occasus.

Is that a cool name?

How sweet it is to be loved by you

I think I'm getting sick. I've certainly got a fever. I'm hot. Throat's a little sore. Maybe it's stress.

Maybe it's loneliness. Miss you hon.

I'm Groucho

See. This is why you shouldn't have kids. They ask you to do one thing (for example, set up a blog) but then they ignore you, as if the request wasn't theirs. Not a comment even.

Oh well. I like talking into the ether. I'm building my own time capsule. Perhaps, a hundred years from now, when all data from my lifetime - I'm speaking about the sum total of all the words ever written by anyone up until now - I don't know, perhaps billions of terrabytes? (I'm not a computer guy!) - perhaps when all that data fits on a pin head, someone might read this post. And discover my silly little story, my silly little love of the beauty found in nature, my silly little relationship with a daughter who won't communicate with me.

So I'm Groucho today. I'm "he who is grouchy".

Almost the day after - silly

Almost tomorrow. You haven't called, hon. I know, I've been busy, I've been working, I've been a poor communicator. But this is silly. Just silly.

Sunspots

Are the natural world's greatest works of art.

And look like honey.

The joys of insomnia

Awake at nearly 3:00 AM. Toss and turn and... it pisses me off. And those kids are still partying across the street. I feel old. I suppose I AM old.

Screw it. Coffee.

I don’t know about that

Again. Someone sent me this. Hon, you know who.

Key bull?

"Therefore, the Solar Cycle 24 Prediction Panel’s forecast is being used by various industry and government groups for planning purposes, including power companies, communication networks, satellite manufacturers/operators and airline flight planners. Unfortunately, the nation’s (and the world’s) vulnerability to solar storms will only increase as we become even more dependent on these technologies. "

I'm going to have a lot of lobbying to do.

Damned illiterati

Some of my students - indeed, even my own daughter - seem to relish their ignorance. Part of my job is to try and subvert this. To draw forth from them a sense of joy in the world around them and from within themselves through studious learning. This is a taxing job; I am suffering so that the next generation may succeed.

I think they don't want to.

I'm glad the school year is over.

It will give me more time to focus on hobbies and, well, attempt to have fun. No more papers; instead...

You know.

Blab blab blab

I write this and I don't think even one person has looked at it. Blab blab blab. Not like I'm saying all that much. But still, here I am, talking to myself.

Reminder

Give me a call, okay?

A memento

Well, this is the first posting and I don't really know what I'm doing here, but everything has to start somewhere. It's hot today. And humid! I can barely think.

Okay hon, I did it. Look! Dad's on the internet.