It's Windy Out There--- HOLD -ON!!!!!

Oh man is it evah-so windy around the south bay today...
New schedule is now in effect. Das behr is not an early morning kinda bear. Nope. Not for work, well SEX is alot of work, but it's not the type of work I'd be paid for... well not anymore snicker, snicker, snicker...

Late morning to early evening tech support work is just right for me.

Happy Christmas


So Sayeth Das Behr

Wi-Fi Security Config

Why are some things so damn difficult?

Case in point is the configuration of security on a wi-fi network. Now I'm not trying to config any old security, mind you. I've been wracking my brain to enable 128-bit encryption with MAC filtering via a linksys w-router.

I can assure you, this is FAR from a cakewalk.

I first noticed that the WLAN I was accustomed to using, was unsecured. Okay pondered Das Behr, I'll enable an iron clad industrial strength 128-bit encryption key nicely contained in a WPA-PSK/PTIK secured wireless network. I spent most of the night doing this project and the only thing I was able to do was lock down the network so tightly I couldn't even access it. Re-entering and re-entering and re-entering the same 28 character hexidecimal encryption key over and over and over again has been driving me nuts.

Finally I thought- fuck it. Gimme an ethernet cord and I'll do a hard wired link into the router and I'll just undo everything. Upon yet another network scan, Das Behr PSP detected the WLAN now fully open to all whom know how to access such things. Das Behr PSP got online in a heartbeat. The laptop with the wireless NIC however, did not.

A phone call to the ISP was basically useless. The only thing they instructed was that I do a power cycle of both the cable modem and the router. Done and still no connectivity. Yet the laptop shows that it is connected via wi-fi but the wonderful IE v6 browser can't connect. The ISP said the problem was in the router and suggested to call Linksys. With foreign dialects on the bastardization of American English not being my strongest attribute, I have been in the email-chat queue for nearly 38 minutes now and I'm still holding!

Arrrggghhhh!

This is so fucking irritating!

Try and do something good and it just blows back on me and not in a good way!
Why can't things just auto-config themselves?

Well at least I'm not trying to change the time on my VCR!

So Sayeth Das Behr

Thanksgiving: Another Day The Bank Is Closed

The one "true" American Holiday to sit around with people you really can't stand and gorge yourself. Well, okay, I'll be fair, not everyone is hanging out with the family. Some are hanging out with friends.

As for Das Behr... it's like Christmas-

Just another day the banks are closed.

On a lighter note

I'm thankful for the friends I have.
I'm thankful for the doctors' who have saved my life (more than once)
I'm thankful for working at a really cool company

There no muss, no fuss and no cranberry stains to ruin a nice shirt.

I'll be washing my car and war-chalking with the PSP, maybe even go an catch a movie. No really, it's true.

You see, Das Behr was raised as a N'Englandah. My home state isn't a "state"- it's a Commonwealth. I'd been to Plymouth in my youth. Seen the rock and the boat and the plimoth plantation. This was all back before "Cranberry World", and not being there bothers me. No not in a way that I miss my family, please-save it. I've been estranged from most of my family for decades. For Das Behr thanksgiving is about N'England.

Though, it may be different in the future. When I'm in the position of hosting a dinner party with chosen family members in attendance. Ah to daydream...

Yet for now in the cold reaches of reality-

Today's just another day the banks are closed.

So Sayeth Das Behr

Version 3.1, Baby!

Yup, a new PSP version. Basic functionality vastly improved. Although, this text GUI is slightly better, I can deal.

Now, where can I get an EyeToy?

Gimme a "QWERTY" keyboard

Okay?

Plain and simple the GUI (Graphic User Interface, pronounced as "Goo-eey") on both the PSP and PS3 sucks. The GUIs designers must've thought that the best carry-over for those that text via cellphones- would be to use the same interface. But c'mon now kids, it's a bad idea! At least the Mylo got right- a qwerty keyboard that slides out from under (behind, perhaps?) the PSP looking off-shoot. It's frustrating to use a cellphone-like interface, especially frustrating is the fact that unlike the cellphone GUI which has the cursor automatically moving one space to the right, the PSP/PS3 GUI doesn't do that simple functionality. This in turn makes for a labor intensive text entry. One thing looms as a saving grace though... the PS3 "accepts" the usage of a USB qwerty keyboard. Too bad the PSP doesn't have that saving grace.

So Sayeth Das Behr

Tappin' the Rogues

Das Behr got bounced into another cube last week. Admittedly the sweet suite of a double wide cube was a bit too big for this Bear. Now Das Behr is located in a more intimate space, just big enough for moi. And I can still see the aircraft on their final approach.

It's surprising to Das Behr, that with all of the high-tech offerings from the SilliValley, there are still those folks whom unwittingly have their wireless fidelity enhanced networks open for the world to see. Albeit open if some one is looking, that is.

The driving force behind my most recent acquisition was to help me help others. Then there are the many footnotes. There's war-chalking the rogue WLANs. Hell, if there are open networks to tap into, then Das Behr will go a-tappin'. It's a really cool device. One whom knows the capabilities of a PSP, also knows that it is not merely a "game system". It is also not a toy. The PSP is a portable entertainment device. Is it a computer? No. It's not. The device doesn't "do" computing. There aren't any word processing applications on board this wonder. You want computing? Get a notebook. You want a portable web-surfing device that when properly outfitted*, will carry your photo album, MP3 collection, your collection of video clips and movie trailers AND your very own golf game against Tiger Woods...

You want a PSP.

Das Behr was displaying a image slide show of recent downloads. Many beautiful semi-clothed and nude men. Upon gazing at the slide show, Greg states with a grin,

"Oh, it really IS a playstation."

Yup, it sure is!

*(Das Behr PSP is equipped with a 1GB SanDisk memory stick)

WarChalking via PSP

No, I'm completely serious. I've used the PSP, basic functionality stuff, y'know? So, then I got to thinking, why not buy one. So I went into GameStop on Stevens Creek to seek a purchase on a used PSP. I spot and breeze past a cute, early 20-something, sales boi attempting to explain the "high cost" of a PS3- to a trailer trashy looking female with bad skin.

Avoiding that train wreck, I go over to the counter and ask a way too perky female sales rep if there were any used PSPs on-hand and the cost...

Seven minutes later, I'm walking out of the store with a basic pack. Expenditure- $175.00 tax included. Next purchase will be a SanDisk memory card and a used UMD game... SOCOM looks interesting...

The Cell (T Minus 17 Days and Counting...)

Ok, So I'm gushing. Think what you will about the PlayStations, but one thing is for certain... The PS3 will Blow The Doors Off The Competition!

Holy E-jack!, Batman...

Eek! I've been e-jacked!

Yahoo abuse failed me for the LAST TIME.

hasta la vista Yahoo!

I've decided to close ALL of my Yahoo accounts and go with the number 2 most popular email service. It's a real shame because I've had an email account with Yahoo ever since their Day One. Anyone remember back that far? You know the Pre-Portal days?

What pushed me over the edge? Some Dweeb e-jacked one of MY Yahoo accounts and I didn't know about it until I began receiving mail daemon bounce backs from mail servers that I never had sent emails to. And apparently those emails that were being "sent" from my email account had viral attachments!

Uh, no, Das Behr don't play like that. The folks over at Yahoo in Sunnyvale, apparently are so overwhelmed with other chores that my emailed pleas for help have gone un-answered- yes I did get three auto-bot messages, but I don't consider that as "help". C'mon, Yahoo Abuse received three forwarded daemon bounceback emails from moi. Each email included the headers- the email travel path and all I got from them was a canned auto-response. Naw, sorry, not good enough, anymore.

Everyone I know will get updated accordingly...

But for now, I've got some emails to send...

Oh and a Last Word regarding this e-jack thing--

FUCK YAHOO

So Sayeth Das Behr

Absentee

Das Behr has cast his secret ballot absentee vote. In the true spirit of a secret ballot, Das Behr has the right not to reveal whom or what he has voted for...


However, at this time Das Behr has decided to waive some of that right. Pretty much like a line item veto, Das Behr shall reveal his voting preferences... First of all he'll start with the propositions- (Reader please note: items for 'yea' are listed, items for 'no' are not.)

Transportation: Props: 1A, 1B, 1C, 1D, 1E

Why: If you have ever driven on the streets, roads, and freeways of this, the great State of California, you already know that the system of asphalt and concrete thorough fares are in great disrepair. It wasn't always like this. Back nearly twenty years when Das Behr first travelled in the Bay Area, the freeways were as smooth as glass. Potholes and cracks and other suspension-racking pratfalls belonged (and were found) in the snow country a.k.a. Boston. A return to the good ol' days when Californians actually cared about California. These props also address Mass Transit- Yeah, given the "car culture" of California, for every cell-yacking driver on the freeway, there are nearly five Californians that rely on Mass Transit to get them from point 'A' to point 'B'. Where is that money going to come from? From the gasoline tax? PULEEEZE! The gasoline tax is supposed to help fix the roadways. Naw, Mass Transit needs public funding through Bond Measures. And we need these monies right now.

Prop 87: Clean Energy.
Why: To Das Behr, this was a no-brainer. Consider the fact that the country of Brasil spent the last twenty years creating and implementing their ethanol fuel program- to become self-efficient and completely off the Arab oil teat. California must lead the way for the rest of the country. Besides, Chevron Corporation is the major push behind the No on 87 camp. Gee, why would that be? Oh, maybe because alternative fuels just may cut into their RECORD PROFITS. Yeah, it's a no-brainer.

Prop 88: Clean Money.
Why: How can a land that has a constitution which defines the government as a body by the people, for the people when most of the people can not afford to run for office? Public money, that's how- public money.

Incumbents be gone! Nearly a complete shake-up in that regard. Time for a change! One write-in candidate, though- for the office of State Senator.
Das Behr has noticed that Diane Feinstein only pops up in the news when her re-election comes near. G'bye DiFi, you did NOTHING to stop the MADMAN in OUR white house. 'Nuf said. DiFi your term is up! Time for some fresh air. DasBehr wrote in the name of Christopher Dahl for U.S. Senate.

Voting along party lines.

For all other offices, Das Behr voted his conscience and went by his party's line:
Libertarian. All except for one office though...

Governor:

Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger

Why? Why not. No, seriously. I think Ah-nold is doing the best job for the benefit of ALL Californians. Das Behr refuses to simply vote for the "lesser of two evils". Despite the fact that Ah-nold is the lesser of two evils to begin with. Phil Angelides just didn't sit well with Das Behr. Therefore he didn't get the vote.

So Sayeth Das Behr

Righting the Wrongs

It's Sunday morning and Turner Network Television (TNT) is replaying one of
Das Behr's all time favorite movies- "The American President". A relatively accurate fictionalised account of an American president during a re-election campaign. Said single president is also courting a beautiful lobbyist. It's funny, touching, note-worthy- it's about as american as we ONCE were. Annette Benning,
Michael Douglas, Michael J. Fox and Martin Sheen head up a fantastic cast.

Personal factor: Das Behr had been to The District of Columbia. On a planned one week visit to see and hang-out with The Ottah. Some of Das Behr's best vacations were the ones where he could trip around the visited city and just see things from a perspective pretty unique to Das Behr. For example, after spending a good portion of his first night in "the District" at a bath-house, he walked out into the pre-dawn city and not having a clue as to where he was at in relation to where he needed to get to. I knew the destination was Georgetown- getting there via The Metro and using Metro maps was dicey at best.

The adventure was afoot! Capitol Mall was a different sight to see when Das Behr viewed it at oh-five-hundred in the morning, where the sun was nothing but a spit dot on the eastern horizon. It was distressing to Das Behr to see trash strewn across America's Back Yard. Perhaps a poignant reflection on the current administration...

Even Washington City is pretty decrepit. Washington City doesn't receive federal funding. Washington City is the place in which The District of Columbia is located."D.C." is not a state, nor a commonwealth. The District has no voting power at the federal level. It has the ability to observe and advise but no binding voting status. Very much like the U.S. territory known as Puerto Rico.
However, unlike the pleasant Caribbean island, D.C. is taxed heavily. Das Behr regarded the tax rate in his own Northern California as a bit extreme at 8.5%. That is cheap by District standards. Where Washington City's tax rate is a whopping 10 percent! It's a crime. What's been happening within the District of Colombia is basically-

Taxation Without Representation.

Gee, doesn't that ring familiar? Wasn't that the same cry that ultimately lead to the American Revolution against Mother England a scant two-hundred-thirty odd years ago? Thought so. Washington City is seeking via internal vote to change the law and provide "statehood like" rights to the District. Should D.C. win, then they'll be eligible for badly needed federal funding for everything from highways to housing and everything in between.

So Sayeth Das Behr

Prince Charming arrival scheduled for 2k7

At times I wonder just WHEN my prince charming will arrive. I've got friends whom can't bear (no pun intended) to be alone and therefore they're always in a relationship. Then there are the group of friends that IF they wanted a relationship they'd be in one.

Then there's Das Behr.

Emotionally stable (well there WAS a bout with some instability recorded within these blogs, but I'm over that now). So yeah, I'll stick with the emotionally stable trait. I guess what sets me apart from the other guys I've encountered is my intensity. When I fall in love with a man it's a s-l-o-w p-r-o-c-e-s-s.

And once I'm there, I'm in like glue, white on rice, you get the idea.
To pry myself out of a romantic relationship is even slower than entering into one. Falling out of love for Das Behr is akin to packing up all of the emotions that I felt for the guy and doing a sort of mental deframentation and a re-boot. I once knew a lesbian (a distant relative of baseball star Nick Ruzzo) whom had followed her italian traditions and would send a black rose to a former wife. The intended recipient of the black rose is now regarded as being "dead". Which I think is a real classy way of saying "fuck-off and die".

The most recent California governor (before Ah-nold) was Gray Davis. During the great recall campaign, Davis was being touted as the "best governor-in-waiting California has ever had". I mention this because there are at times when I feel like I am the best husband-in-waiting in the great place of California.

According to numerology, 2k7 will finally be my year for romance. That's when I will be in the right place at the right time emotionally, financially and mentally. Whoo- Hoo!

It's about fucking time!

So Sayeth Das Behr

Good-Bye WFB!

The finanacial crises that Das Behr has struggled through is now fini. Part of that struggle was squarely tied to my former financial institution. Through an unfortunate series of events, Das Behr's financial status had collapsed in late August of 2k6. By the time the dust had settled Das Behr was saddled with a negative checking account balance of $942.40. Das Behr worked feverishly with the aforementioned former banking institution, to prevent an eventual charge-off of the delinquent account. The charge-off would've affected Das Behr's ability to open any checking account anywhere at any bank within the USA. The banking institution made famous by their stage coach image of yesteryear, had assured me that once my account was brought back to a balance of zero-point-zero, then it would be re-opened with certain restrictions to designed to prevent the liklihood of another financial collapse.

When Das Behr was able to make a sizeable deposit of $500 one week and then another deposit of the remaining balance the next week, I asked the local bank official in FC (Foster City), as to when my account will re-open. The official looked at me and said "Oh, you'd need to open another [read:different] checking account. Das Behr was miffed- I wasn't advised by the stage-coach banking institution that I'd need to re-apply for another account. "Well, yeah." Began the cute asian man in formal business attire. "Because the other account was closed by the bank for severe insufficient funding issues. Now you need to open another account."
"I'm able to open a new account or have I been reported to Chex-Ex?" Das Behr asked still slightly confused.
"If you had been reported on, then you wouldn't have been told that you are welcome to open another account." Stated mister cute asian guy, with a white toothy grin. A grin that Das Behr would've enjoyed stuffing my randy rod into.
"Oh, thank-you, for the information. And have a pleasant afternoon." said Das Behr as he turned away from the teller window.
"But, wait, aren't you going to open an account?" The cute asian implored.
"Yes, I am. But not here. I'm going to WaMu, have a nice day!"


Good-Bye Wells Fargo Bank!

You safe-guarded my monies, but you didn't help me when I really needed your help.

Do you WaMu? I do NOW

So Sayeth Das Behr

The Little Words

Little words. Little words make all the difference. Especially when trying to clarify a statement. Recently at a bar across the Bay from the Foster City tower, Das Behr was asked this series of questions:

"... Where do you work?"
Innocently and quite deliberately Das Behr stated "I work at SCEA".
"Huh?" Came the clueless reply.
"I say again, I work at SCEA, you know- as in Sony Computer Entertainment America."
"What do they do?" The gorgeous yet dweebish guy asked.

Although, I really don't what to insult the man for what I believe is either a severe case of stupidity or CRS (can't recall sh!t). I can't help but blurt out-

"Have you been living under a rock, or something? S-O-N-Y, they're the company that makes the PlayStations! (tm)".
"Oh, cool, you work for Sony. Can you get me a PS3?"
"Nope. I can't. Besides I don't work for Sony, I work at SCEA."
"Well, then, what exactly do you do at Sony?"
"I do tech support for the PSP and the PS3 when it launches."
"So, what's the difference between working 'for' or 'at' Sony?"
"The difference is color."
"Ah, color, like the new PS2- black or silver?"
"Nope. More like purple or yellow, as in badges. A purple badge means one works for SCEA. A yellow badge means one works at SCEA. Although I do aspire to earn a purple badge within six months."
"That's it? It all boils down to badge color?"
"Pretty much, yeah."
"So, you got a yellow badge and you work for Sony."
"Grrr, yeah, something, like that."
"Can you get me a PS3"?
"Y'know, contact your local retailer and ask to be placed on the waiting list."

So Sayeth Das Behr

An Expensive Chew Toy

Okay, Das Behr, grew up with dogs. During the
"formative" years, there has always been a canine or two or three in the household. Never, and I mean N-E-V-E-R has any dog of mine or anyone else that I know for that matter has had their mutt/pooch/canine chew on an electronic product. Therefore I'm understandably a little sceptical about the image to the right. Albeit it does appear to have been mangled-up, but for Fido to do this kind of damage, nah, I don't think so.

I would, however, think that little (insert little kids' name here) would take a tool and attempt to pry the PSP open. But to place the blame on Fido- it's just not right.

And before any of you ask, YES! This PSP has been subject to neglect and abuse and the warranty is definitely voided.

So Sayeth Das Behr

Bright Lights, Big City

Well perhaps not "big city", although San Blah-zay is now a bright city especially downtown. Das Behr was trundling around last Saturday night. Okay, so I went and saw the new Robin Williams film "MAN OF THE YEAR" (great flick). After the movie it was time to head up to Mac's for a beer and chatter. Trundling north along South First Street wasn't quite the adventure that it once was. I couldn't quite place what was so different about my surroundings, then it dawned on me...

IT WAS SO FREAKING B-R-I-G-H-T.

Wouldn't you know, the San Blah-zay public works folks went and installed new street fixtures and lamps. And we're not talking those sodium vapor puppies either, nope, plain white wattage blazed across the entire sidewalk! Well okay, downtown sidewalks were a bit dark at night, but now it's gone 180 degrees into the opposite direction.

Now if only they can apply the same logic to getting The Alameda re-surfaced. The speed limit is posted at 35mph, but I tell ya, the GR1FF3N likes his suspension and alignment just the way it is- perfect. Until San Blah-zay gets the ruts and pot holes fixed on The Alameda, this behr ain't gonna be going anywhere near the 35 mph limit.

HEY SAN BLAH-ZAY, FIX THE BUMPY ROAD KNOWN AS THE ALAMEDA, WILL YA?
Do something constructive with all that money from the Grand Prix.

So Sayeth Das Behr

Another Anniversary

Dateline: SF Bay Area. 17:04 hours Pacific Time. Tuesday, 17 October 1989.
Major temblor measuring 7.1 on the Richter Scale rattled through the Greater Bay Area.

I was on vacation that week. I didn't go anywhere special. I just hung out around my flat that I shared with three hets. The World Series was being touted as the long awaited "Battle of The Bay". SF Giants v. Oakland Athletics. I was bored. So I was out visiting some neighbors in the flat above the rear carport.

Chris and, his wife Donna, always had the best KGB. (Which is tame when compared to the medicine of today). Chris had the bud, Das Behr had the bowl, it was a pleasant visit. Until 17:04 in the afternoon when the apartment above the carport began to move.
There we were, all four of us, looking at each other and thinking aloud "This shaking can stop any time now". Well, when the 'p-wave' subsided, the more destructive 's-wave' began- violently.

"It's... not... stop... ping!" I shouted.
"It's been more than ten seconds!" noted Dave.
"Everyone, get into a doorway!" yelled Chris

Following basic earthquake safety procedures, four people braced themselves in four interior doorways. Violently nasty shaking in excess of 28 seconds. Finally, it ended. Das Behr had bruised arms from being thrown back and forth in the wood framed door way. When reality struck, I panicked. I flew downstairs to my flat to survey damage if any.

After shock #1: A 5 pointer.

If anyone thinks that the earth is solid beneath their feet, they've never been in an earthquake. During the first after shock, I had eye-witness account that although the earth may appear solid, it also ripples. I watched in disbelief, as my livingroom floor moved in a wave-like ripple. The exterior walls didn't skip a beat, for the walls merely followed suit and rode the earth wave. Checking upon the contents of the apartment proved that nothing was broken.

Yet there was a one foot wave running foot to head on my full flotation waterbed. It took Das Behr nearly ten minutes to calm the wave by laying prone and rode the water mattress like I was on a surf board on the ocean.

Never lost cable

News Copter 7 was sending live, unedited images to their news roomand out to the public. Stunned at the scope of what I saw, I sat on the couch with my mouth agape. I never saw a freeway in such a crumbled state as was the Cypress Structure in Oakland. I then felt sickened as I realised that cars and trucks were now crushed with their occupants beneath tons of concrete and re-bar.

It took me three days to reach my folks back east. I gave them phone numbers of my roommies' relatives and asked my dad to do a relay call to them to advise that their loved ones are indeed still amongst the living and will call when services were fully restored.

Seventeen years ago to the day- The Loma Prieta Temblor. It was my "Big One".
And it still remains as the most recognisable seismic event here, in the Bay Area.
Surprisingly the fatalities numbered below 100. Most of those killed were in their vehicles when the freeway collapsed.

Today, we have stronger building codes and seismic retro-fitted freeways.
There's a new program in place encouraging people to save water for emergency kits. Because many local governments on the peninsula have realised that in another seismic event, we need to care for ourselves for as much as 72 hours. Do you have your emergency kit? No? Do it today!

So Sayeth Das Behr

So Sayeth Das Behr

Cha-Cha-Changes

With Autumn 2k6 came a new employment opportunity, an updated fashion style, a new "do", a refreshed attitude and a new blog layout!

Yah, I know yippee fucking skippy.

So Sayeth Das Behr

Ironic Humor

Upon being informed of my good news, Greg stated "oh, good, an inside job." Yup, an inside job, indeed! I no longer need worry about getting soaked through to the skin and work in wet clothing, this winter. Yipee!


Yesterday, I was assigned another cubicle. My supervisor Ms. W., wanted everyone on her team to be on the same floor. Well, that's logical. So I got moved. The entire contents of my cubicle, including Das Behr went from the 20th floor of the tower to the 21st floor of the tower. My cubicle is located immediately adjacent to Ms.W.'s office-cube. Some other teammates mentioned their mis-givings about being so close to the boss, but I just shrugged it off. Because of two things mainly: Number One- The supes here at SCEA like many real companies are there to HELP their charges- which is so unlike Swishport it's scary. And Number Two- Ms. W doesn't come in until late morning so she is only there from the time I get back from lunch til the time I leave. No worries.


A Cube With A View


Top floor of the tower, baby! My cube abuts the wall of in-operable windows. My view is that of the Bay, The San Mateo-Hayward Bridge, the EastBay (once the fog clears) and perhaps most ironic... All the aircraft on their final approach into SFO. Which includes KE, FL, KL, AF and VS.

I was chatting briefly with a teammate today whilst on break. Das Behr was asked how I happened to wind-up in Campbell if I had worked at SFO. I explained that during my last six months at SFO, I was homeless and living in my car while toiling full-time at the airport...
A woman from SCEA finance bummed a light from me and interjected "Now look where you are."

Yes, indeed, I know full well where I am now. And I'm enjoying-

EVERY SINGLE MOMENT OF IT!!!

So Sayeth Das Behr

PSP~Hells Yeah

pretty self-explanatory

Don't Be A Stinker, Use Your Damn Blinker

Every single motorized vehicle on the roads and freeways in this, the great State of California, are equipped with this device. A simple, safety device that is operated manually and is within easy reach of every driver. Yet, given it's effortless operability many motorists, here in Northern California, seldom if ever, use it.

Signals. Blinkers. Directionals.

Which ever descriptor is used, it still works the same way. The little used safety device is a glorified plastic stick jutting out from the left side of the steering column. Move it up and like magic the right turn signal begins to flash. Move the plastic downward and, look- gee-whiz, the left turn signal begins to flash.

How is a turn signal deemed to be a safety device? I think it's quite obvious.
Usage of the turn signals when changing lanes help prevent many mis-understandings, fender benders and may even prevent frustrated drivers from becoming enraged and determined to run you off the road. Or perhaps even KILL YOU.

Yes, I've been cut-off on the freeway. You've been cut-off on the freeway. Chances are that most people, even those clueless souls that perpetuate turn signal non usage, get cut-off. I don't understand it. Ease of use. Within easy reach- It really is a no-brainer.

Now, where did I put that laser guided particle beam?

I want to mount it on the GR1FF3N and permanently eliminate those clueless souls.

The Results Are In....

A few items to consider...
My learning curve at SCEA was nearly vertical. For instance, I don't own nor have I ever owned a PlayStation console. Sure, I enjoy playing video games- in an arcade environment. Home-based systems, though, not much interest. Friends of mine have owned PS2 systems. I being the bear that I am, just couldn't manipulate the awkward controllers with any finesse whatsoever.

The call-tracking software (CRM app) is a very robust application made by that German company, Siebel. The app is named LUCID which is an acronym, that I rather not get into right now. Suffice to say it is very robust. Asset information, service record information, addresses phone numbers, the works. Yeah, it's a database. Gee, I wonder why Uncle Larry hasn't attempted to scoop up Siebel, because LUCID kicks major ass! (DUH! Me bad.)

So there you have it the major players in this learning curve of mine. No real experience with the Sony PSP (PlayStation Portable) and no working knowledge of LUCID. I place that learning curve at 89 degrees. Why 89? Well, I haven't been living under a rock, so at least I already knew what the hell a PSP was and that was about it.

The other aspects of performing custo-, er, CONSUMER support are the soft skills. Of which I have in great supply. Past experiences within call center atmospheres include two alarm company central stations and one web-based application company. The latter was at that time a start-up and the former were ADT Security Systems (back when it was a reputable security company) and RFI Communications and Security.

The training at SCEA was three weeks in length. The learning about LUCID and the PSP were computer-based and self guided. The Training Facilitator(s) made one thing crystal clear- Don't attempt to learn everything that there is to know, instead learn where to go on the corporate intranet to find the information you need. I had a professor in college that had said nearly the same thing- Don't try to know it all, just know where to find it.

At first, I was trippin' hard. Information overload. I was thinking PSP. I was dreaming PSP. I had "consumers" talking to me in my dreams. As anyone whom works in a technical call center will tell you, the smart people do not call you. The folks whom read their respective owners/users manuals- do not call you. The only people whom call tech support are the clueless and the ones that ought not be attempting to operate anything, let alone attempt to set the time on their VCRs.

The "semi-final" was a database navigation, coding test. A passing score was 90, my score was 83. Most of my class required a re-test. My score on the re-test was a huge improvement- 100.

The three call final was THE big one. "Nobody fails this course" so stated the facilitator, named Wes. (Oh and a few choice words about him: Cute, mid-20's, korean/european mixed straight married daddy) Anyways , he dropped a not-so-tactful bomb on the class, you fail- you're gone. No worries here, in the adult world THAT is a given. Yet , I was amongst the few whom were beyond their 30s- Kids today, I tell you...

The three call final had a pair of grading categories- Call Quality and Database Knowledge. It was here that I was trippin' a bit. I knew I had the call quality down pat. But, I still had a little bit of difficulty with app navigation. I was shocked to learn that the two for me would get perplexingly reversed. The required score to pass the Call Quality segment was 80 or better. The Database segment was tighter at a minimum score level of 90.

The Results Are In...

Call Quality: 85
Database: 100

I start my shift bright and squirrely at 0700 and leave at 15:30. This is the first technical call center gig where I work Monday through Friday. Yes, that means weekends off like normal workers! As my friend Tony T had observed, I am no longer working in the Klingon Empire for I have now rejoined the Federation!

hells yeah!

So Sayeth Das Behr

Aggressive Driving v Defensive Driving

Is there a real difference between the two? In the past my response would have been a knee-jerk and emphatic YES!

Yet, now I'm not too sure. For me, I think I've blurred the line a wee bit.

First and foremost:

I am a SAFE and SANE driver. I don't tailgate, cut-off other drivers, hell, I even signal before I turn. I even to signal to show my intent that I'm changing lanes. I am not "asking" for permission to merge into another lane. I am constantly verifying my surroundings and marginal distances within my two dimensional space on any given road or freeway.

I drive fast. I always have. Whereas Sammy Haggar once screamed in song- "I can't drive 55", I can't merely hang at 65. The GR1FF3N can handle a comfortable cruise of 70. Sometimes when I'm not paying close attention to my velocity, GR1FF3N may fly along as fast as an occasional 80mph, but like I said that's only occasional.

I sing in the car. I yell in the car. I yell at my fellow drivers from my car.
I can't honk the GR1FF3Ns horn because it doesn't honk anymore so I flash my highs. I'm aggressive when I need to be to get around the folks with the cellphones plastered to the side of their heads. They're the ones that just can't drive the speed limit AND gab on the phone at the same time. They're the ones that are the main cause for the "slow-downs" on the freeways. Sometimes they're driving so damn s-l-o-w. That I want to get out of my car and bitch-slap them.

Road Rage Is justifiable

Some kid (defined as a person half my age and younger) cut me off on HWY 101 the other day. It would seem to him that there wasn't anything physically behind the back of his head when he decided that he had to travel from the far left lane adjacent the center divide (aka lane number One) across my path in the number 2 lane and then proceed to the exit lane. Yeah, I've seen this practiced before only not with such wanton disregard for everyone around him. Apparently the kid didn't realize that there was indeed the whole rest of his old-school vintage 60s era Mustang all located immediately behind his head. I like the fact that GR1FF3N is equipped with ABS braking or else there would've been a bit of a tangle between me and that kid, not to mention our intertwined vehicles.

I liken the freeway experience to what George Carlin had surmised a number of years ago during a show. "There ought to be different types of music for each of the traveling lanes on a freeway." The number one lane would have driving music. Beat laden riffs and wild methodic guitars. Music to sink your teeth into as you buzz by the other cars beside you. The musical genres would get real mellow by the time you're in the far right lane. It's called the slow lane for a reason and slow music would be most welcomed there. A real calming effect- "Whew, I survived another roust of the freeway". Time to mellow out for the surface streets and stoplights one is destined to encounter. The slow lane is also a ramp-up to come join the jungle. Find your niche and go with the flow.

But, no.

We all know that ain't gonna happen. There will always be those multi-taskers out there whom think that they're adept at reading maps while driving, applying make-up whilst behind the wheel or displaying erratic driving velocities when gabbing on a cellphone.

All I want is a particle cannon.

I once gave serious thought to the mechanics required to mount a laser guided paint-ball rifle onto the GR1FF3N. Some ass that is driving stupid, ought to have the world know that they're a jerked driver by the simple display of puke green paint ball remnants on they're rear window.

But, now, I'm in road-rage-justification-mode. I say just ELIMINATE them. Get them out of the gene pool, altogether. That'll teach 'em.

L.A. drivers are often maligned with they're perceived driving habits.
"OMG, there was a 15 car pile-up on the 405. They drive crazy down there!" Uh, hold on, wait a sec. It is true that South Cali drivers are all flying on the freeway doing 75, driving mere inches from the car in front of them. But they drive as a UNIT. As if Southlanders have a secret driving choreography- only known amongest themselves. Ottah and I traveled through rush hour in L.A. changed from the Ventura Freeway to the Hollywood Freeway and back onto good ol' HWY 101. Ottah was my navigator- I was the pilot. It was fun! It was amazing! It was actually enjoyable. If someone had to change lanes, on went their signal and they were able to merge into the intended lane. No one missed a beat. It was a smooth as silk transition. So unlike us Nortenos, we could learn a thing or two from the Southlanders- maybe we could do lunch and discuss it.

So Sayeth Das Behr

Married, Scarred or Too Gay

You've seen them around. You see them EVERYWHERE. To put a queer twist on an old observation: the good men are either married or TOO GAY. Recently, I attended a birthday party for a friend. Great food, great drink, great smoke, great blend of people of both genders. There were a few cute guys that I had met at the party and some that I've known for years. Of the guys that I had met for the first time at that party, a couple of them were indeed couples, albeit incognito. They didn't hang out together, they didn't sleep together (yeah, it was an impromptu all night party- I was there for 26 hours), for intents and purposes the foursome were seemingly unattached. Until conversation had swayed into the area of being single versus being coupled. It was then that it dawned on me that I was, for the most part, amidst men whom were "off-the-market". I generally don't go to parties to pick-up on guys. It's just not my style. Although, I do network amongst my small number of close friends. It would seem that if Mr. Thang is partnered then he'd more than likely has or at least knows of some guys whom are single and emotionally available. That's the key. I've met guys that have been of the walking wet dream variety. Guys that although, they look all manly and possess masculine traits, aren't properly equipped to relate to other men on an emotional level. I have a masculine demeanor. I don't speak with a lilt, I don't walk with swish of the hips, I don't have limpy wrists. I'm not afraid of getting myself dirty- I'm talking filth that usually requires solvents to remove the grime. I like to work on mechanical things, car engines and the like. You know, "guy stuff". And I'm attracted to guys like myself. Guys whom are guys. It's been my experience that there are those guys whom, I'm attracted to, are either partnered/married or emotionally crippled or marred for life. You've encountered them- The guys that have had a couple or a string of rocky relationships that ended badly and unfortunately the guy(s) didn't learn from those experiences and therefore are now marred and scarred for life or a good chunk of it anyway. The adage of twice bitten thrice shy pretty much sums it up. It's a shame and a tragedy. Then there are the "too gay" crowd. The "Heeeeey Grrrl" kinda of guys. The "no-she-did-int" clique. Where all pronouns are feminine despite the fact that the person is genetically male. I call them "Swishy Fags". Some call them "Queenie". Which is not to be confused with the "Uppity Queers" which is a whole other topic for a later blog. I know many guys whom are like that, some are friends, some are close acquaintance's. But, would I knowingly become partnered with a guy like that? Let me just say that I wouldn't actively manhunt for a swishy fag as a potential partner. I realistically can't rule-out anyone, because stranger things have been known to happen. Lastly, to all the emotionally scarred guys out there, try to learn from the mis-steps of the past and take the emotional risk to seek another guy, because we're not all bad, mean and manipulative- Many of us are just drawn this way.

So Sayeth Das Behr

Gigi was just SO pretty

She just may've found her true calling. Gigi was in full swing the other night. Copper coloured hair and falsies, sparkly eyelashes and ivory white skin. WOW, what a knock-out or perhaps she was knocked out!

It was the first twenty-four hour party of this millenium that I attended. What started out as the Pajama Soiree- by the next dawning of light it was the underwear party and that party continued all throughout the next day. I tell you, I feel like I lost a day somewhere. Has anybody seen the 17th of September? For me, there's a bit of a blur right where that day ought to be...

More on the Soiree is on the way. Just as soon as I piece it back together.

So Sayeth Das Behr

American Red Cross Seeks Blood Donors

It will never cease to amaze me, the U.S. Red Cross needs blood donors. Well, sometimes it's obvious. If there was an inexpensive way to manufacture plasma from scratch, without natural hemoglobin, I'm pretty sure that there would no longer be shortages of blood. The thing that gets me is the discrimination that the FDA/U.S. Red Cross maintains. The blood supply in the United States is screened for all sorts of blood-borne infections and viruses. Yeah, including HIV. Yet, if you are a man willing and physically able to donate blood and you just happen to be sexually active with other men, regardless of your sero-status, you are banned from donating your blood.

I think that the FDA (the government body that oversees the U.S. Red Cross) ought to get over themselves as the morality police and get with the freaking program. I know of many, including myself, who'd donate blood in a heartbeat (no pun, intended) if we were not banned from doing so. Some of my friends have stated to me that I ought to lie about my homosexuality, so I can donate blood.

My response to those statements was and remains a flat "NO". When I came out, it put an end to the lies I told and it put an end to the constant attempts to hide myself amongst the general population. To renounce, even temporarily, my homosexuality would undo the trials and tribulations that I have endured and enjoyed about myself for the last twenty-three (23) years.

Besides, if the FDA refuses to lift the ban, then the Red Cross must not really be all that desperate for blood products.

So Sayeth Das Behr

Aviation

Ricardo and I were sitting on a tug parked at gate G93. It was 11h15 in the morning and we were waiting patiently for the arrival of Singapore Airlines, to get her first class cans, bag drop them, go to the 'boneyard' and push-off the cans just to get the dollies. Then it was back to the "A" side. ASAP.
I felt strange. It was like a cold clammy tingling sensation. I felt nauseous and sad, then it dawned on me.

"Ricardo?" I sort of yell to the man sitting to my left. It's always noisy on the ramp, sometimes I think we ought to be taught ASL when sitting in close proximity to one another.
"Ricardo? Don't you think it's weird for us to be sitting here on this side of the airport at this hour, at this gate, on this day?" I inquire of my associate.
"Weird? It what way?" Ricardo replied. Apparently clue-less.
"Dude, it's 11 September. It's the third anniversary of the Day of Tragedy."
"Yeah, so? Why is it so weird?" He asks cluelessly.
"Ricardo, UA93 was enroute from NWR to SFO before it was hijacked. This is the United side of the airport. UA93 was scheduled to arrive at this airport three years ago today, at this time of day. UA93, G93. Get it?"

"Yeah, I get it and you're right- it is weird."

I love aviation. In high school instead of taking Art for an elective, I took an elective class called "Aviation Today". The class was taught by a history teacher by the name of Mister Gay. In that class, I learned about the different components of aircraft. From the wings to the fuselage to the elevators to the ailerons. I learned how lift was created by convexing the top of the wing, thus causing the air to have a lower pressure rushing above the wing's leading edge than beneath. I learned the difference between pitch and yaw and what the hell a yoke was. No, not the kind inside eggs. Fascinating, as Mr. Spock would say- Aviation fascinated me.

I flew everywhere when I was able to travel on my own. I flew from Boston's Logan Airport to Norfolk Virginia for a weekend in 1986. I flew roundtrip to/from Boston and San Jose also in 1986. I and some friends stood on the roof of our apartment complex to watch the Blue Angels perform their airshow at Moffett Field. F-14's flying tree top level in Sunnyvale. After-burners running full. I loved the feeling I felt throughout my body as the jets flew overhead. I had made four roundtrips transversing the country to visit my folks and returned home. Air travel is safer than a pedestrian crossing the street in San Francisco.

I received a call on my cellphone from my friend Rudy. He instructs me to turn on the TV. I ask what channel and he says it doesn't matter because it's on all the channels. "Dude" I say, I'm at the ten-ten, can't this wait? Rudy said no, it couldn't wait. So I grabbed a towel and walked from my room to the media room, sat down and watched the horror unfold in front of my eyes. The WTC south tower just collapsed.

Yet, for me, the terrorists succeeded. The horrific tragedies of that day really, fucked. Me. Up. It was eerie when none of the planes were flying that week. The only planes allowed to fly were the military aircraft on patrol around the Bay Area.
When the planes returned to flight, the skies didn't seem so friendly after all. Worse still- I had now developed a fear of flying.

There were two reasons why I decided to work at SFO. One being money- the great motivator that it is. The other was to help me get over my new fear. For the first three weeks I was petrified to go out on the ramp. Although, I had passed all of the background checks (FBI, MI5, Interpol). I had earned the 24/7 clearance required to become an authorized person in the restricted areas of the AOA (Airport Operations Area). Yet for me to be there in the same place as the aircraft? Nope. I wasn't ready for that just yet. My friend Ron understood my plight and didn't push me. I would get the confidence soon enough on my terms. In time, I got myself reacquainted with my love for aviation. I enjoyed being out on the ramp at the far end of the runway (28R) sitting on my tug parked on the side of the road and just watch the 747-400s achieve lift. Within seconds the plane is screaming over my head. I would get this sense of enormous energy permeating the very essence my being manifesting itself with a tingling sensation that made my nipples hard. Another was scrambling atop a tug conforming my upper body against Tubular Belle's smooth cold fuselage. My outstretched arms with fingers splayed trying to cling to the curved surface as I worked the panel switches to open the cargo door and retrieve the first class cans. Knowing full well that I am the first person to touch the body of a magnificent bird that was airborne a scant fifteen minutes prior.

Squirt guns don't squirt people, kids do.

Despite all the onboard computer systems on the flight deck. Airplanes do not fly themselves into buildings, people do. People kill one another for socio-political reasons. People kill each other for sport. And aircraft are merely tools.
Large sophisticated tools. Large sophisticated fragile tools for travel.
A plane arrives at a gate with passengers. Whom de-plane, get their bags and leave. Meanwhile most aircraft are "turn-arounds". Arriving as VS19 and departing four hours later as VS20. All cleaned up and fresh smelling. A new crew and refueled and on they go.

I boarded an airliner once again in June 2005, for my first trans-atlantic flight. SFO to LHR via Virgin Atlantic Airways. By October the same year, I flew domestic on Jet Blue. Oak to IAD, it had been awhile since I spent time with the Ottah.

Thousands died that day...

Hundreds of thousands were affected that day...

And, it's been only five years.

It seems like forever...

It feels like yesterday...

Camping

Das Behr loves camping. Real camping. As opposed to "gay" camping. The idea of pitching a tent and sleeping in a bag is the appeal. Gay camping is the tent experience but just too many creature comforts for my taste. For some, camping without an air mattress- would scrub the whole thing. When camping, I prefer sleeping on the ground in a sleeping bag within a tent (I'd rather camp with another and zip the two sleeping bags together, but that's another blog post). Roughing it. It's an escape and it's always an adventure. I don't think that I would've felt the last big temblor that struck under Napa, the same way if I was asleep atop a cushy temblor-isolating air mattress. Like many whom went camping with their families when they were growing up, I didn't get that opportunity. So, I guess I'm making up for lost time by adopting this form of recreation. During the last 19.75 years, I've been camping four times and each camp-out was special.

Life @ Fife's
Eighteen dollars and a temporary surrendering of your CID/CDL will get you one canoe, two paddles and as many life vests as needed, when you lease said canoe at Johnson's Beach. Huh? Why rent a canoe at a beach? This beach isn't on the ocean, it's on the Russian River located in Guerneville, California. Johnson's Beach is the place to go on the 3rd of July for the Guerneville Town Independence Day Fireworks Display. And it's the place to go to rent a canoe.

I'd never canoed before that time in July. I thought how difficult would it be? Oh, man! It's a great work out for the upper body. Ottah and I paddled upstream, which is NO easy task! Yet, Ottah didn't seem to mind too much that our trek was traversed in zig-zags. We brought along a cooler full of 'pic-a-nic' goodies and low-slung beach chairs. We found a small island just after the first bend opposite the Korbel vineyards and hung out for a couple of hours. Then it was back onto the river for the just as difficult downstream voyage.

Another camping trip was with the "Renegades North" gang. Three days of alcohol induced mayhem. Das Behr was sportin' a completely shaven dome on that trip. I don't recall all the details. For some reason there was multiple trips to Safeway and "hiking" in the woods, it was a great time hanging with friends. Ottah and I checked out Armstrong Woods.
Man, was it quiet! Peacefully surreal. Highly recommended for ALL tree-huggers. You know who you are!

Oxnard.
A central coast city. Ottah and I camped overnight in Oxnard during our trek down to San Diego one summer. We had arrived at night. Pitched our tent by the light of the Santa Fe's headlamps. It was kinda scary. I could hear the ocean. That was a sound that I knew all to well. But I couldn't place the "whirl ka-chunk, whirl ka-chunk" sound. By daylight, I could then see through the fog- Ocean and oil derricks everywhere. Eew!

My most recent camping trip was one for survival rather than recreation. I found myself without a home after I'd recovered from surgery five years ago. Luckily, I had unemployment checks keeping me afloat with food. I had tried the sleeping under a bridge thing- way too cold, no blanket, just me and a leather jacket. I tried the EHC thing, sleeping on a bed mat on the floor with a moth-holed wool blanket. Way to much foot traffic around me at all times during the 'lights out' period. Whilst some were guarding their footware from thieves, I was guarding my telecommunications device.

I was not about to sleep in the elements. It was going to start raining soon when I decided to camp-out. Tom suggested that I check out a place along the Guadalupe River in Santa Clara. He could see the levee each time he made his pass along Tasman near Cisco. I investigated the site. There was enough trees and void of people. My criteria was a place that had low to no foot traffic, enough trees to camoflage my aqua blue tent and at least one sturdy tree to lock my bike to. I packed out whatever I packed in. In addition to my tent, sleeping bag and blankets- I had my battery operated lamp, hand-powered radio, non-perishable food, water, toiletries and determination that I'd get through this 'adventure' relatively un-scathed.

Only in the Silicon Valley would a homeless bear be actually smarter than the average bear! Here I was in my own tent with my own equipment and keeping updated with the world with a FM radio and an internet enabled cellular phone. I lived like that for three months. I spent alot of time reading, hanging out at various light rail stations where I'd plug-in and recharge my phone. Looking for work when I could. If I really need to do a repeat of 'survival camp', no problem. Been there, done that!

Although, the next time I go camping it'll be for recreational purposes- That's a def. With someone? Perhaps rabbit, perhaps.

So sayeth Das Behr

Not one for subtlety

I've noticed that there are two types of people when it comes to the conveyance of information. There are those who can take a subtle hint and go with that. And there are those that require a bit of a up-front and in your face type of communication. I'm proud to say that I am a member of the latter. There's no room for error when an item is presented plainly and to the point. Remember- tact is the art of presentation.

I was recently told that I can leave cryptic emails. I guess emails or letters would be considered cryptic when the parties involved are not on the same page. Confrontation. I abhor confrontation. Yet perhaps at the same time I need feedback. So even though I really hate confrontation- it's a necessity. I need to work on my confrontational skills. I must develop the skill sets to obtain the information that I require without letting my emotions get in the way.

As I may've mentioned in a previous post, I do not like being ignored. The other party wasn't about to give-in. That's what ignoring someone is all about. It seemed like a stalement and it was becoming unhealthy for me. My emotions were in such a twist. I'd be boo hooing and slingin' snot at the drop of a hat.

I.
HATE.
THAT.

I felt like I was going to snap and I knew that it wasn't going to be pretty.

I had to act.

I called him and got the machine. I left a message stating that I wasn't going to show up unannounced. I knocked. No response. So I waited thirty (30) minutes outside his door sitting cross-legged and thinking of what I was going to say to him. I knock again. The door opens, I'm asked in and we talk.

Whew! I'm happy that's over. I now know exactly where I stand. He considered it as rude to be so blatant. I, on the otherhand, welcomed it.

Point blank.

No mis-understandings.

And best of all, we are still friends.

So Sayeth Das Behr

For the Love of Music

A man that I respect once wrote, "I'm not your typical 'g' man, I like to rock out". That statement made me think of all the rock concerts that I've experienced. So, I figured what the hell, I'll list all of the musical artists that I've seen.

I'm amazed, some artists I feel lucky to have seen them because they rarely hit the road here in the States. Some bands I've seen more than once, in those cases I'll define the number of times I've seen them and I will even throw in the venue where I saw them. Where ever possible, the artist/band names will be linked their respective web-sites. Here's the list, in the order that I've seen the concert. If I remember the year I'll list that too...

The Ramones
I saw The Ramones at the Commercial Club in Bridgewater, MA back when I was
eighteen (18). The year was 1980, it was my first summer after graduating from high school. The show was great! I remember that they played outdoors and the weather couldn't have been more perfect.

The B-52's
I've seen the 'B's' twice. However, this was the first time I saw them, that I remember most fondly. It was also the Summer of '80. The show was performed at SMU (Southern Massachusetts University) when the new wave band from Athens, GA were still playing college campuses. The concert itself was held indoors in one of SMUs gymasiums. As I recall, there were alot of people there. The gym space was nearly full. The first song of their first set was also their first release,
"Planet Claire". Fog filled the stage, the music began and three-quarters (3/4) of the
people all rushed to the stage. In turn the void created a large space for dancing. The
dance type of the day was the 'pogo'. My throat was so sore after all the screaming I did during that show.

Billy Idol
I was out here visiting friends in Sunnyvale, the Summer of '86. It was late July and the Shoreline Ampitheatre was brand-spanking new. Complete with the little towers of burning methane up on the lawn. I don't remember much of the show- it had to have been a good time!

David Bowie
I saw Bowie in 1987 when he played Spartan Stadium for his "Glass Spider Tour". I remember seeing all the 'jesus people' carrying signs out in front urging people not to listen the 'evil' music of Mr. Bowie. Peter Frampton played lead guitar during that tour. I was thirty (30) feet from the stage. The turf was gone and I was dancing in an inch of mud, but I didn't care. Dude! It was BOWIE!

Pet Shop Boys
Also in 1987 was The Performance Tour was the most unique event. PSB did performance art at The Warfield. Each set was a more like acts in a play. Wonderful, just wonderful, even from the "nose bleed seats". I was a bit disappointed though-
Dancing was strongly discouraged.

The BoDeans, The Pretenders, U2
The year was 1988. The event was Concerts On The Green at Oakland Stadium.
What a totally awesome triple play! First on stage were The BoDeans doing their hit
"Runaway". Thirty (30) minutes after their set, The Pretenders were on stage. I was so close to the stage that I could see Chrissy's sweat on her brow! And yeah, it is possible to mosh to "Mystery Achievement" and "Tattoo Love Boys".
U2. What can I say? Just one word: Incredible! I had anticipated the huge crowd that was around me during The Pretenders set, to completely engulf the space
occupied by my concert companion and I, so before Bono and the boys came on stage, it was up to the stands we went. A much better view too.

Depeche Mode
1988 was a great year for concert going! Depeche was at Mountain View's Shoreline
Ampitheatre for their Music for the Masses Tour. Martin Gore's lyrics and Dave Gahan's vocals combined with the music created by Andy Fletcher and Alan Wilder
infused the the "fast fashion" sound. There's nothing like dancing on the lawn!

The B-52's, Billy Bragg
This show was at Shoreline, sometime in the early 90s. The Bs didn't disappoint the
crowd, as usual. Yet it was Billy Bragg that I wanted to see. I so enjoyed his lyric:
"... just because you're gay, I won't turn you away. If you stick around, I'm sure we'll find some common ground..." from the song "Sexuality". Cool, real cool.


NIN (Nine Inch Nails)
Who would've thought NIN at SJSUs Event Center in 1994? I heard about the show and just had to go. It was almost like a summons. NIN has always been, in this Behr's opinion, all about Trent Reznor's angst ridden music. "Head like a hole, black as your soul, I'd rather die than give you control."
A lyric from "Head Like A Hole" (Pretty Hate Machine) I really like his music. To me, it's thought provoking and dark. Very dark and haunting, like Bauhaus, Ministry, Cure and Linkin Park.

SemiSonic
I saw Semisonic in 1998 at the Filmore in SF. "Closing Time" and "Singing in my Sleep" were getting alot of airplay on Live 105. Yet at the show the song that blew me away was their cover of Prince's song "Erotic City".

Susan Tedeschi
In the Commonwealth, there are many convenience stores by the name of "Tedeschi's". I was surprised to learn that this singers' surname and the mini markets were all in the same family! I saw Susan when she and her band played the Catalyst in Santa Cruz back in'99. She's just a little thing. Susan stands perhaps a whole five (5) feet tall, but her voice- Oh man, her voice is so large!

Rolling Stones, Sheryl Crow
In the Summer of Y2k, I worked as a "Blue Coat" for "Bill Graham Presents".
A Blue Coat did just about everything in regards to crowd control and general security. My assigned position for that night at PacBell Park was on the field "protecting" the massive speaker tower located stage left. It was raining that night in The City. Not quite a downpour but rather the annoying heavy mist/drizzle. It was in this weather that Sheryl was performing in.
Yet when her set was completed, it was like the deity in charge of weather, decided that it would not rain on the Stones. By the time Mick bounded on stage, the rain had stopped and the sky was partly cloudy.

Aerosmith
The bad boys from Boston played at Shoreline in Y2k. My assignment for BGP was to limit traffic at the main stage gate. Although, I wasn't backstage per se, I was the guy the throngs of "support people" had to go through to get to all the tents immediately behind backstage. When my break rolled around, it was customary to shed the blue coat and join the audience up on the lawn. I caught up with another blue coat halfway up on the lawn. We shared a bowl and rocked out to "Sweet Emotion", "Walk This Way" and "Draw The Line".

The Other Ones
The last show I worked for BGP was The Other Ones at the Henry J. Kaiser in Oakland. My assignment was crowd control in the six (6) foot wide space between the railing and front of the stage. The Kaiser is a "no smoking" venue. Well, more like a no tobacco smoking venue. I stood with my back to the band for the entire show. So I guess I didn't "see" them. I did, however, get quite a contact from the herb smoke wafting toward the stage. I can easily understand how a spiritual connection would've been made when Jerry was still alive. Although, I think the message of caring for your fellow man was lost on some of the younger teenage crowd whom were there with their grandparents.

Def Leppard
Def was doing a tour with another old school band that I can't for the life of me remember. It was in '05 at the Municipal Stadium in San Jose. I had a female friend in the late 80s that was an extreme fan of Def Leppard so some of the songs kind of grew on me. "Pour Some Sugar On Me" from "Hysteria" and "Rock Of Ages" from "Pyromania" were the songs that I enjoyed the most from those days. Marky asked if I wanted to go along with him to the show. Seeing and hearing the band play those songs were great. I surprised myself that I actually remembered the lyrics!

Xavier Rudd
The last show I'd seen was also in 2005, at the Great American Music Hall. A fairly small venue, it reminded me of a mini Filmore. Marky had asked if like to go with him to the show. I didn't know who Xavier Rudd was, yet I trust Marky's musical prowess, as comparable to my own. Xavier had been getting alot of airplay on KFOG and it he had caught Mark's attention. Xavier's a multi-talented young guy in his 20s from "Down Under". A self-taught musician whom plays guitar, drums, bongos, and the
didgeridoo.
Xavier's voice reminded us of that of Paul Simon. All factors combined led to a fantastic presentation and very danceable.

So Sayeth Das Behr

Maintaining the Ties That Bind

It's been nearly two and half months since I had checked the contents of my P.O. Box.
Since I rarely travel further north than say Mountain View, I've made the decision to close my P.O.Box at SFO.

How strange it seemed being in such close proximity to the "big birds". I parked the car at Millbrae BART. Took the train into SFO station, went through the fare gate and into the International terminal. Yup, it's still there. Big and shiny, just like I remembered it. Looking over toward the "A" side I hear a jumbo pulling into a gate.
I've learned a while back that it's easier to identify an air carriers by the tail of the
aircraft. The one pulling into "Gate alpha three" had the tail markings of Asiana.
When I left "Swishport", Asiana was parking on the "G" side of the airport. "OZ" on the "A" side meant just one thing- Asiana was now an "A" side flight. Uh-oh.

I caught up with a former Swissport associate named Philip. He's still working the ticket counters for Lufthansa and Air France. We chatted briefly.

Same ol', same ol'. Uh-oh, sheesh, not my problem. I kept saying softly 'not my problem'. I rounded the corner at ticket counter six and saw the woman that took on the role of FMU a.k.a. Virgin Ops, it was Shabeena. It was good to see her, we had always got along well together. Shabeena was stocking the counter aisles with supplies before the counter opened. We also chatted briefly. Then I ran into a Virgin manager...

It was good to see Mr. C. again. He stated that he had received my email and thanked me for the link to the Steve Ridgeway (Virgin CEO) article that I found online. Mr. C.
asked if I had eaten and before I could reply, he said that there's a potluck in progress upstairs and that I ought to go get some food. Virgin has ALWAYS had the best potlucks!

Despite my protest of not having a badge, Mr. C. just gave me a "oh please" look and assured me that it would be okay.

Virgin counter personnel were now exiting from the elevator and headed to the counter. Many "heys" and "hellos" were exchanged it was nice.
I enter the Virgin Administration office on the fourth floor. Everyone is in the large briefing room. I announce my arrival by saying that I'd been invited to get some lunch. Ms. I, had a big grin on her face and kept repeating "Security Breach, Security Breach". Mr. S. shook my hand and thanked me for sending such a well worded email response to an article that a disgruntled Virgin passenger had posted online.

The spread of foodstuffs was impressive. Cellophane noodles, sushi, eggrolls, broccoli beef, pork buns, cheeses, and three veggie trays! Then were the sweets too many to mention here suffice to say it was there, it was great, and I consumed as only a Behr would. By the time I had my second round of sushi and cello noodles, Mr. C. had returned.

Nothing's changed he tells me. Last week. There was no one at the make-up at 14h00
(2PM) there were a huge amount of bags everywhere and no one there to load the cans. I could only shake my head in disgust. I let everyone in the room know that my
EDD Appeals hearing is slated for Tuesday the 12th. If anyone familiar with the role that I played is invited to come to the hearing and witness for me. No immediate response given, no problem.

Mark from Hallmark wandered in. He, like everyone else, was surprised and pleased to see me. I'm advised that after my lunch, if I'd be interested in getting an app for a position that he has available. Mark said that my reputation precedes me- such high regard from the staff and management of Virgin Atlantic SFO.

Another job at SFO?
Only if it pays well. my friends, only if it pays well.

tick, tick, tick

Requests for interviews seem to be pouring in. I had a very good interview yesterday. I have another set-up for next week and today I had an impromptu meeting with Hallmark Aviation Services. I'm keeping fingers and toes crossed.

Hindsight is always 20/20

Yeah, I fucked up.

I said the wrong thing. When you're told by someone that you care for that you are loved by that person, please say something other than "thank-you".

I'll be paying for that screw-up for some time to come. He said he loved me. but I didn't want to cheapen it and throw in a hasty I love you too.

Last time I did something like that- I was called "callous" by another. I never saw the warning signs, I had no idea that Andreas was in love with me. I was in my late 20's at that time. Andreas never told me but he always confided in Mickey. Andreas went to visit his grandmother in Germany to sort out his feelings for me. Mickey said I broke his heart. She said that I should have known. I didn't have a clue.

I never saw him again.

He flipped his car on the autobahn and died upon impact.

Like Pluto, things had to change...

Pluto's orbit was determined to be oblong instead of circular. Pluto's size isn't quite up to snuff. Like former distant "planet", one of my orbits' has changed. No matter how much one wants something to happen fate will always intervene when the time is just not where it needs to be. Like chain of amino acids, if the chains combine "just so" you get protein molecules- a basis for life. If not you just have a puddle of goo.

If things were different, perhaps maybe.

Like Pluto, I've had alter what I consider as a "friend". I haven't "demoted" rather changed the parameters slightly. At this time only the person I'd loved more than my other friends is affected. For now it's for the best. Later? Perhaps. If the person wants to pursue that's up to him.

I wish him and Pluto luck in the new endeavors that fate has in store for them.

No grudges.
No worries.

I maybe a Tiger and he a Rabbit and we like most creatures always land on our paws.

I'm usually cordial. That's all I ask in return.

So Sayeth Das Behr

So much for that

Waa-aa!


Okay, so much for that pity party. Did you enjoy it? Albeit, I didn't appreciate that form of send-off. However, it does make a clean break. I could say something harsh but y'know, fuck it.

Whatever.

He Only Speaks To Me In My Dreams

We play off one another well, in realtime. Mostly joking at the "expense" of the other. Light hearted jabs and stuff like that. We have alot in common. I mean we're alot alike we have the same taste in music, food, & culture. We're comfortable around one another, so comfortable that there were times when I would finish one of his sentences and he would likewise finish one of mine. It was like we were on the same wavelength. Observers have mentioned to me that when we were hanging out that we behaved as so "married", we just didn't know it. Apparently unbeknownst to me our "comfort level" was noticeable to others.

We play pool as well. He is so much better at it than I. Although, I do watch as how he applies English and then "blam" the object ball slams into the pocket with such force and determination.

He is the only man who can refer to me as "Robbie".

I don't know what I did to offend him. I say "Hi" to him and I'm ignored. On more than one occassion. I'm confused and I detest that. I do not know what I did to offend him. Yet I'm being ignored just the same. Last I saw him he had slipped quietly out the door with car keys in hand. I called his voicemail and asked the machine what it was that I had done to offend him. I asked for him to advise me because I really do not know. I ventured that it is obvious to me that he doesn't feel the same for me as I do for him. I announced to the answering machine a lie that I'm moving on. That I have moved on. Although, I do not want to trash a long-term friendship. Yeah I'm weird like that, I suppose. But,I feel like I'm grieving the death of a friendship that I had no conscience part in it's demise.

He won't talk to me, not in person anyway.

But in my dreams...

In a dream I remember from two nights ago, we were hanging out together. We were both admiring a red convertible car. It was kind of old and it was shiny. He was referring to me as "Robbie". He spent alot of time grinning that wonderful smile of his. I felt warm and happy again to be in his presence.

The next thing I recall is the sound of a rooster crowing. The rooster will not stop crowing. It's endless and annoying. I stir and my eyes are teary because I realize that the rooster crow is my wake-up call and it saddens me because-

Marky is still not talking to me, but only in my dreams.