From the Man Cave

“It’s a War Zone Out There!!!”

2012-01-05T17:03:00.000-08:00

Welcome back cave dwellers! It’s been a hectic three and a half months since my last post. Between a promotion at work, a new difficult project starting up, my company’s home office relocation, the busy holiday season and Mrs. B and I getting the ball rolling on a new home being built for us, I’ve been fortunate just to have enough time to breathe. This particular post has been a long time coming so without further delay…

The title of today’s post comes from the punch line of one of my favorite stories that a good buddy/co-worker tells, involving another mutual co-worker/buddy. As much as I would love to relay this story to all of you here, both for it’s immense comedic value and relevance to the topic at hand, it doesn’t translate well to type and loses too much of it’s humor if you aren’t familiar with the players.

This One Is for the Ladies

Huddle up ladies and listen close! I may be risking my guy-card by sharing secrets about the inner workings of the subconscious male psyche, secrets that I myself wasn’t even aware of before this post topic began forming in my mind. If I’m banned from the monthly meetings for providing intel to the opposing side, the least you can do is learn something. I’m joking of course, it’s the quarterly meetings that don’t allow double-agents.

But First, a Little Setup

Several months back I was driving around the New Orleans area in a work truck while my customized, dashboard-beating Pandora station blasted through the speakers. There’s nothing like a soundtrack with a Breaking Benjamin foundation, infused by a shot of Within Temptation and a dash of Lacuna Coil to keep the creative mental juices flowing. It’s in situations like these that I do some of my best free thinking, as well as my most random.

On this particular afternoon I was, for some unknown reason, remembering a dinner outing with my wife. It was a common scenario where I had eaten my fill, but steadfastly refused to yield to the remaining portion on my plate. While my sweet wife did her best to save me from myself, urging me to stop and ask for a doggie bag for the excess, I was attempting to “power through” as had become something of a mantra over the last two or three years (much to her dismay… and my amusement). As I chuckled to myself over her reaction to my insistent, “I can power through”, I began to wonder why. Why was it so important to finish the meal? Why did it feel so demoralizing on a seemingly molecular level to throw in the white napkin of surrender? I instantly received my answer…

The Light Bulb

It was at that precise moment when I heard my buddy/co-worker, in his best imitation of our mutual co-worker/buddy, conclude the famous story with, “It’s a war zone out there!!!”

Like a brilliant flash of lightning tracing across the sky, my mind leapt into action, instantly connecting the dots that are many of my common behaviors with the one underlying, previously unknown and subconscious reason they share… it is indeed a war zone out there.

That remembered event was no mere date, no simple meal. Sure, I thought so at the time and so did my wife. What began as a basic evening, designed to satisfy both her desire for a romantic activity and my need sustenance, was in fact something else at a much deeper level. Despite the ambience and pleasure of getting out of the house for awhile, once the plate was set before me the challenge was engaged. The gauntlet was thrown down. I was suddenly, yet unknowingly a general, marshalling my forces for good in a war against evil. In defense of my land, my freedom and all else I hold dear. How could she ask me to simply surrender?

For Sparta! This far and no further! None shall pass!

As my mind continued to flood with past experiences, it only made more and more sense. After a long day of framing basement walls and that one 2x4 just wouldn’t take a nail, the first six attempts terminating only halfway in and successive strikes from the hammer only served to bend and twist the nail. Rather than removing the nail and trying a seventh, the command decision is made, orders given. The hammer keeps swinging until the end of the 2x4 becomes an unrecognizable, splintered mass which must now be freed from the wall and tossed aside. It seemed ridiculous, wasteful even if you think about it. Progress was halted and building materials lost, so why did it feel great? Just look at that 2x4… I won.

Everything from tile installation, roofing and drywall to completely different tasks like spreadsheets, driving… even video games are approached from the subconscious view of a battle, and with it the refusal to be beaten. And each time the tide begins to turn, that urge rears it’s ugly head. The urge to “push the big, red button”, to strike a decisive, absolute victory despite all the consequences and potential collateral damage.

Don’t Believe Me?

Just look at the men in your life. Have you ever seen your guy (husband, boyfriend, father, brother, etc.) start to use a wrench as a hammer on a part of the car that didn’t need fixing, all because he was tired of fighting a bolt that wouldn’t turn? Have you really looked into his eyes at that moment you suggest that maybe he should stop and call a professional plumber/mechanic/electrician? Ever notice how he seems to get just a little too much satisfaction from accomplishing even the simplest tasks? Think about it.

That guy zipping in and out of lanes on the freeway when traffic slows down? He’s trying to win. That foreman tossing his hardhat on the ground? His battle is going poorly. It’s everywhere.

Some of you may protest that your guy is different, more refined. I hate to break it to you ladies, but that is simply not true. It may occur when you’re not around. It’s likely that he is a better tactician, giving a little ground in the smaller battles while keeping an eye towards the larger war. But rest assured, within each man beats the heart of a warrior, fighting the day to day battles. Each man has his line drawn, where enough battles lost will result in creative, inventive cursing and a drastic change to his front line tactics.

So What’s the Point?

What have we learned? Is this the way the cave man compensates for being taken from his cave and shoe-horned into a cubicle, suit, home owner’s association, etc.? Is this information even useful? Can this knowledge be helpful to you, the women in our lives in recognizing and defusing the “big, red button” scenario? I don’t know the answer to these questions, but I do know one thing. Telling the general to put down his fork because he is being silly is definitely not effective.

See you next time. Thanks for stopping by.

Five Years Later…

2011-09-16T06:09:00.001-07:00

I know I promised you “It’s a War Zone Out There!” and don’t worry, it’s still coming. The last month leading up to my extradition from New Orleans was particularly hectic and stressful and I just couldn’t find the time to write. Besides, I think you’ll all agree after reading on, that this post should take priority.

September 16, 2006

That’s right cave dwellers, today marks the fifth anniversary of the day my wife and I vowed to spend the rest of our existence driving each other crazy… and we’ve both been doing a pretty good job! Those of you thinking today’s post was going to be focused on celebrating the Blu-ray release of the Star Wars Saga only get partial credit for your effort. Those of you who had no idea that Star Wars is out on Blu-ray today… there may be no hope for you.

Five years ago today I embarked on a never-ending quest to understand my wife. It’s amazing to me that you can learn enough about a person through dating that you realize you need to be with them always, and yet be reminded on a daily basis for years to come how little you really know about them. Granted, I have spent less than have of those years actually living with my wife due to my job (she recently quantified it as 27 out of 60 months), but the woman I proposed to back then is basically a complete stranger compared to the woman I’m currently married to, and I’m betting there are many more surprises yet to come.

For example, after a year of marriage, I awoke one morning at about 3AM to discover that the lights were on and the bed was being made with me in it! The details are fuzzy, my half-asleep brain only picked up the words, “These crooked sheets are making my legs ache! Hold still!” Now, fast forward to a little over a year ago when I was living in a hotel room outside of Louisville, sleeping in a bed that only required a quick tug of the covers to restore it to it’s “made” state… until she came to spend the weekend. I’ve learned it only takes her an hour to make my bed resemble the path of a tornado.

There have been countless such discoveries over the course of our short time as husband and wife. Only two or three weeks ago she was completely stumped by the phrase “Sweep the leg!” (really, you’ve never seen “The Karate Kid"?). Of course not all of the little revelations were of the “No Way!” variety, but the others don’t have the same comedic value. I’m sure she’s learned a thing or two about me that’s given her cause to shake her head in disbelief. When she picked me up at the airport upon my return from Louisiana, I’m sure she wasn’t expecting the shaved head and the goatee long enough to put in my mouth. Let me be clear, I’m not admitting to walking around with my beard in my mouth, that’s just a description to give you an idea of the length.

I don’t think there will ever come a day when I know all there is to know about my wife, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Not only have we learned volumes about each other, but we continue to learn more about ourselves. We’ve discovered and cultivated new interests and hobbies, separately and together as a couple. Over the last five years I’ve learned more about myself than I ever knew before, and I don’t think that would have been possible without her at my side. I can sincerely say that I like who I am. Because she has chosen to share her life with me I can enjoy… being me. I am better because she chooses me.

Has It Really Been That Long?

As adults we are all too familiar with how time seems to pass faster as we age, but that never dulls the realization you feel when you see an older picture of yourself. It certainly doesn’t feel like it’s been five whole years.

It doesn’t quite add up until you start putting together all of the stuff you’ve done. Like that trip to Hawaii,

the Eagles/49ers game in San Francisco, major purchases made like the motorcycle, Mrs. B’s ever-growing skill as a photographer, bowling or other miscellaneous get-togethers, numerous holidays and birthdays, sight-seeing in new cities and endless variations of beard growth all serve as a reminder, not just of how much time has passed, but of how much life has been experienced and shared in our time together. There’s no better way to emphasize that than with a Photo Montage! Feel free to hum or sing your favorite, montage-appropriate song as we relive a few of the highlights pictured below.

Well, that was fun, wasn’t it? We sure have had a lot of great experiences over the last five years and I can’t wait to see what the next five bring.

What Have I Learned?

Gather ‘round everybody and let me impart to you a little of the wisdom I have gained thus far. And bear in mind, I do not consider myself a marriage expert by any means. Believe me when I say, the fact that we are still married and very much in love today says a lot more about how wonderful she is than it says about how easy I am to put up with.

I have learned that one of the worst possible phrases a husband can say to his wife is “I don’t care”. Calm down, lets work some context in there before you lynch me for being a monster. As was already mentioned in a previous post, my wife is free to do whatever she likes with every space of our home, the only exception being the Man-Cave. However she wants to arrange the furniture, whatever color she wants to paint the walls, anything that helps her define our living space as “our home” is fine by me, as long as it makes her happy. Sounds pretty good, right? And she loves adding all the little personal touches that reflect her creative personality, but because she is so considerate, she is always seeking my input. That’s when I say it, without thinking that it might carry a very different meaning to the ears of my sweet wife than it does to any of the male co-workers I am used to communicating with all day.

I do care. I care that she is happy in the place that is our home, but I simply… have no preference. Beyond wanting her to be proud of the home we maintain and being able to express herself, I just have no input. I struggle to find a more appropriate way to express that, and like a true caveman I blurt out, “I don’t care”.

Now that I think about it, we’ve had more than a few misunderstandings that begin with me using the very words that accurately define what I mean to say, while she deciphers the words I use to find the secret code I had no idea was there. In a nutshell, there is much to be gained and many arguments to be avoided by simply understanding that men and women generally communicate in fundamentally different ways. Please note that this is based on my limited experience, I have no desire to spark a gender war. I didn’t start the fire, it was always burning. That’s my advice, take it for what it’s worth.

The Big Day

Knowing that I am a very lucky man, you can bet I’ve put a lot of time and consideration into planning something special for the wonderful woman who continues to put up with me and loves me more everyday. What’s on the docket you ask? I’d tell you, but I’m sure she’ll be reading this only moments after posting. You wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise, would you?

To My Lovely Bride of Five Years

I love you with all of my heart Pinky! Thank you for a wonderful five years, I look forward to many, many more. I’ll see you soon.

Happy Anniversary Sweetness!!!

Innocence Lost…

2011-08-02T19:58:00.000-07:00

…Or Is

It?

I was out in the field recently when one of my co-workers pointed behind me and asked, “What kind of cloud is that?”

I turned around, looked into the sky and replied, “A rabbit… or maybe a dragon. I’m a Field Engineer, not a meteorologist!”

It got me thinking. I can vaguely recall having the ability to lie on my back in the grass for hours, seeing a countless variety of ever-changing shapes and objects in the clouds. Having no thoughts of… well anything, and no regret over the fact that at that moment I was being completely and utterly unproductive. Where did it go? No wait, when did it go? Did it slowly fade away, or was there just one moment, one morning when I woke up and was… different, too busy with adult responsibilities to find pleasure in such a simple relaxing activity?

I probably spend even more time gazing into the clouds lately than I ever did before, only now I’m standing in a swamp with mud well over the ankles of my steel-toed boots. Every article of clothing, even my safety vest, is so drenched with sweat that I can’t keep anything in my pockets that isn’t waterproof. And I don’t see fuzzy animals, only the potential for rain. The pessimistic side of my brain is always calculating the possible impact to the schedule and increased cost of the project if those clouds also bring lightning. Rain without lightning is more of a good news/bad news scenario, the good news being that we can work through the rain while the bad news is… that we can work through the rain. The optimistic side occasionally interrupts, saying things like, “At least it’ll cool down a little bit.” Thoughts like that are all too brief as I am quick to remember how it feels after the rain. Isn’t humidity fun?

Cloud watching wasn’t the only casualty lost during the battle of my adolescence, let’s not forget snow. Snow used to be awesome, with a capital AWE! There was nothing better than the feeling I’d get, looking out the window, to see that the world had magically changed overnight, covered by a thick, soft, white blanket. If only modern science could capture that sensation. Forget “buying the world a Coke”, pass a bottle of that around! You would have so much world peace going on it would make you nauseous.

As a kid, I could play in the snow for hours on end. One winter, a buddy and I built a… well we thought of it as some kind of snow fort but it was more like a very small igloo. It was basically a short wall, over which we secured a blue, plastic wading pool (for structural support, of course) turned upside down, with snow packed on top. We carved out little nooks inside where we could stash sandwich bags filled with the last of the Halloween score. And we could hang out in there all day without a care in the world. But all of that would soon change with the acquisition of the much desired Driver’s License.

I have a very different relationship with snow these days, let’s just say… we’re not speaking to each other. For example, a few years ago we built a job in the Denver area. My company’s portion of the work was supposed to take place during the fall, which was lovely by the way. However, due to circumstances beyond our control, it was pushed to the cold, dead heart of the fourth snowiest winter on record for the region. Imagine my delight, the very joy in my heart as I stood in the parking lot trying to get a diesel F350 started up at 5:30 each morning while the temperature in degrees Fahrenheit could be counted on one hand. And then there’s the snowy freeway commute… I have a thing about driving on a frozen road. It’s a long story involving an attempt on my life by the state of Kansas one January night.

That’s right, Kansas, I said it. Don’t play dumb with me, I have a witness.

I won’t bore you with all the details of Level B Hazmat protective gear, supplied air respirators and such. To be blunt, it was already a complicated and dangerous project, only made more difficult by the wintery conditions. In the end, it was an experience I am proud to have been a key part of and would willingly take on the challenge of future projects of a similar nature. I just don’t choose recreational activities for myself that involve snow anymore, not just because of one project or one terrifying luge across I-70 in the dark (no Kansas, I will not let it go), but because it appealed to me less and less the more I had to drive in it, shovel it, etc.. Skiers and snowboarders rejoice, there’s one less individual crowding the slopes.

The Big Question…

Basically, what I want to know is if my younger self (armed with an impressive imagination and possessing the ability to find enjoyment in almost any situation) would be ashamed to meet the man I’ve become. Have I grown to fit his/my definition of a “boring adult”? Maybe not. Truth be told, an observant person who has seen me both as a child sitting on the floor with a bucket of Legos, and as a grown man completely absorbed in a spreadsheet or CAD drawing, would probably be astonished at the similarities. No, really! I love building a new spreadsheet or CAD drawing.

And as a grown, (semi-)responsible man of 30 years, my favorite meal is without a doubt, grilled-cheese sandwiches with hot tomato soup for dunking, just like mom and grandma used to make for me. And I don’t think that will ever change. If I ever did meet myself as a child, I can take comfort in knowing we could totally bond over a melty plate of those bad boys! I actually burned myself a couple of weeks ago trying to satisfy the craving. I was so absorbed in flipping a sandwich over with the spatula in my left hand, that I grabbed the edge of the skillet between the thumb and forefinger of my right (you know, for leverage). It was a Thursday evening and, as more proof that there is hope for me yet, before I could even reach the sink to run my hand under some water, my thoughts were already focused solely on how this may affect the weekend’s anticipated video gaming.

I suppose my younger self might not find me to be such a stick in the mud after all. I may not gaze at the clouds anymore, but I can stare with that same innocent wonder and amazement into an aquarium or a thunderstorm. I can still crack a joke or otherwise find some reason to laugh during a trying situation. And, most importantly, every time I sit down to take off my work boots after a long day on the jobsite a little voice in my head sings, “Won’t you be my neighbor?”

Thanks for stopping by! Come back soon to find out why “It’s a War Zone Out There!” Oh, and feel free to enjoy the video below of an amazing lightning show over New Orleans. Sorry about the shaky camera work, it’s the first time I’ve tried recording video with my phone. Also, I took out the audio because the storm was too far away to hear any good thunder, yet it still picked up a fair amount of electronic buzzing interference of some sort.

Yeah… I’m Still Here…

2011-07-19T20:53:00.001-07:00

Still alive, still kicking, and still in New Orleans

I was aware that I haven’t posted to my blog in quite awhile, but I had no idea just how long it’s been. Isn’t it amazing how easily we can lose track of the time, while deeply mired in the day-to-day chaos? Well, there’s nothing that can be done about that now. Let’s get started, shall we?

It is now July, which means I’ve been working here in the “Big Easy” for 12 months. I’ve seen New Orleans through all four seasons and every major holiday, with the exception of Christmas and New Years (which were spent in California with my wonderful wife). I’ve lived among the “Who Dats” through football season and Mardi Gras. I’ve been stuck or redirected at road closures due to countless parades that have no apparent purpose.

It also means I’ve been living on the road for 14 months, reducing my entire Louisville experience to little more than a pit-stop. Half-way through the third construction project in the area, making this a 4-game road trip (including Kentucky), I am more than ready to sleep in my own bed and spend quality time with my wife without having to operate out of a suitcase. I am thrilled at the possibility of being able to commute on my motorcycle and lounge in my man cave once again.

With one more month to go before my dream becomes reality, I have a confession to make. I have a very strong love/hate relationship with New Orleans. On the one hand I hate being in New Orleans, but on the other hand I love leaving New Orleans. Unfortunately, to fully experience the exquisite joy of leaving New Orleans, you first have to be there. I could write extensively concerning my feelings about the region, but in the off-chance that someone who lives here just happens to stumble upon my blog… I wouldn’t want to cause any hurt feelings. I know what it’s like to be in the room where others were speaking ill of my home, where I grew up, the backdrop of so many childhood memories. I wouldn’t wish that on anybody. Just so we’re clear, I’m fully aware that my opinions are just that, my opinions. I’m open to the possibility that the people who are from here may very well see something that I don’t see. It may just come down to personal taste. Maybe (likely, I think) the characteristics of where we grew up have nothing to do with it, and the fondness we hold dear for the specific locale is simply what we associate with those formative and individually sacred experiences.

What I’ve Been Up To…

You probably think I’ve conquered dozens of different games since last we met, racking up hundreds of trophies and making a serious dent in my sizeable backlog, don’t you? It has been 5 months since my last post, after all. Actually, apart from the remakes of “The Secret of Monkey Island” and “Monkey Island 2: LeChuck’s Revenge” (which took all of a weekend, combined), I’ve mainly been working on only one game… “Demon’s Souls”.

If you didn’t just get goose bumps after reading that, you are obviously not familiar with the game. And chances are pretty good that if you are familiar with the game, you are tempted to say, “Don’t tell me you actually finished Demon’s Souls?!”

Demon’s Souls is easily and by far the hardest game I have ever experienced. I firmly believe it is the most difficult game ever made, and if it isn’t (after all, I haven’t played every game ever made) I guarantee it’s very close to the top of the list. Unforgiving and punishingly brutal, you don’t play Demon’s Souls, Demon’s Souls plays you. However, with all of the frustration, endless beatings and all too frequent death, it never feels cheap or faulty. Demon’s Souls excels at reinforcing the number one rule of video games: Only you can save the world. You are always in full control of the situation… you’re simply not good enough for most of the game.

The game world is meticulously detailed and lit to evoke the intended suspense that is unique to each level, a suspense that is only heightened by the excellent use of the environmental sounds and enemies that feel completely natural for the areas they appear in. Ask anyone who’s braved the Tower of Latria about their first trip through the prison’s dark, claustrophobia inducing corridors and I’d be surprised if you didn’t see at least a hint of “fight or flight” evident in their body language. The folks at From Software have truly mastered their craft.

Surprisingly, there is nothing taken away by the fact that there is little to no music throughout the entire game, a design choice that would be disastrous in almost any other project.

Long story short, after 241 hours of game time, 3.5 complete playthroughs and overcoming a huge learning curve, I finally earned the platinum “Toughest Soul Trophy” and returned the disc to its case, never to be removed again. And what a liberating feeling that was!

It took me almost 4 months to get all the trophies for this game, and yes, that is much longer than it should be. Let me explain, I learned long ago that I am incapable of playing more than one game at a time. I end up jumping from game to game, having a great time, but never finishing anything. When I would return to a game I had previously been working on, I completely forgot where I was and couldn’t even remember the controls. I would have to start all over. On top of that, Demon’s Souls beats on you at every opportunity. Coming home after 12 hours of sun, heat, equipment problems, etc. beating on me, all day long (if it was a particularly tough day) I would be physically, mentally and emotionally unable to even pick up the controller, knowing that Demon’s Souls only offered more beatings. So it’s not like I played the same game everyday for four months. I just knew it could only be counter productive to play anything else on those days I was unable to face the madness.

By way of disclaimer, I did not take the above pictures. They were collected from various places around the world wide internet webs. I thought about trying to capture some cool screenshots myself, but that would require taking the disc back out of the case, and that is forbidden.

Contrary to the popular belief held among many of my acquaintances, I do more than just play video games and drink Mt. Dew during my free time. I also drink Mt. Dew while reading books! In fact, during my absence from the blog I put my Nook e-reader to work as well, finishing both parts of Louisa Alcott’s “Little Women” (yes, I accurately predicted who both Amy and Jo would marry), Alan Jacobson’s “The 7th Victim”, Timothy Hallinan’s “A Nail Through the Heart” and devoured all 788 pages of George R. R. Martin’s “A Game of Thrones”. Additionally, I also completely re-read my hardcover copy of Christopher Paolini’s “Eldest” and thoroughly enjoyed the unabridged audiobook version of the brilliant David Baldacci’s “Split Second” (while making a trip into Texas for a meeting). As you can clearly see, I’m not nearly as predictable as some might think.

Hmm… that was quite a bit more lengthy than I intended. If I was more consistent with my posts, I wouldn’t have to spend so much time catching up. Rather than try your patience with a much longer post, I’ll go ahead and save the rest for next time. Keep an eye out for “Innocence Lost” in the coming days.

In closing, it came free with my Nook and is also a literary classic, so don’t hassle me. You know what I’m referring to. Thanks for stopping by!

I Love Video Games - Part 2

2011-02-07T09:55:00.001-08:00

Welcome back! That was a nice little break and I think we’re ready to take another stab at this. Now where was I?

New Releases: Purchasing vs. Playing

Ah yes, my dilemma. I had previously mentioned that I often purchase newly released video games, but rarely play them. If you take this to mean that I consciously and regularly make the pilgrimage to a purveyor of game software and game software accessories, exchange hard-earned currency for the latest title I am very excited about, return to my cave and place it on a shelf alongside the others where it will sit for months before being called into service… you are catching on.

If you are still reading at this point, you are probably asking yourself, “Why?”, or possibly, “Are you mental?” I think we can all agree that the answer to both questions is… “42”, but that’s another topic for another day and I’m trying to keep this one from jumping the track. Stay with me now. Keep your eye on the person in front of you, we don’t want to lose anyone today. Use the buddy system if you have to. Moving on.

There are many smaller causes and minor distractions that contribute to the situation, but today we’ll be discussing the two primary, hyphenated culprits. I am a well-informed gamer with a full-time job.

…well-informed gamer…

I am a proud subscriber to one magazine and one magazine only, Game Informer. I actually have two paid subscriptions (Mrs. B’s idea). They recently started offering a digital version of the magazine, which meant that she would no longer have to mail each issue to me when I’m working away from home. It’s a good system, in theory, with one major flaw… internet access. You have to be on-line to read it and I can’t always count on having reliable internet access during the times that are convenient for me to browse the current issue. The nature of my work often puts me in the middle of nowhere, and I never know what resources will be available to me. Now, if it was made available as a download for off-line reading, then we’d really be cooking with gas.

If you’ve ever spent time in a GameStop, you are familiar with this magazine. Every time you go to buy or trade in an item, the nice sales person will ask you if you have a card (like almost every other business these days) and if you don’t, he/she will enlighten you to the benefits of signing up for one. They will politely respect your wishes should you decline, but make no mistake, you will engage in this dance at every visit. If you are anything like me, and pop in with any kind of regularity, you will likely sign up because whipping out the card is so much quicker and easier than going through the sales pitch over and over. I don’t want to give the wrong impression, it really does benefit the regular patron, but for me the best sales pitch is, “You won’t have to hear this sales pitch again.”

The meager fee for this card includes a one year subscription to Game Informer, the best video game publication on the face of the earth. With in-depth previews of upcoming titles (often a year away), well-written reviews reviews of new releases, opinion pieces by professionals in the industry and regular fun segments such as “Sacred Cow Barbeque” and the yearly April Fool’s “Game Infarcer”, each issue is an entertaining, informative and satisfying experience. What began as an occasional flip through the pages for something that catches my eye has since evolved into a monthly cover to cover feast. I have always found their reviews to be honest and helpful. Whenever I have purchased a game based on a review that indicated not only a product of quality, but also an experience that I would enjoy, I have never been disappointed.

The downside to all of this is that there are many more excellent games being made than I was previously aware of, certainly more than I have time to properly enjoy. This brings us to the second half of the equation.

…with a full-time job.

”Full-time” doesn’t really, properly define my schedule. If bed sizes were applicable, I could say I have a “queen-time” job, whereas an ER doctor might have a “king-time” job. It’s a relief that it’s not the case… a “part-size” bed would be like sleeping on an ottoman

and “queen-time” job sounds wrong for a whole host of reasons. Perhaps a different approach…

For those of you not relatively familiar with the construction world, allow me to shed some light. During actual construction of a project there is no such thing as a 40 hour week. It just doesn’t exist. Even a 10-hour day (at least in my experience) means something happened on-site, usually in the form of a severe thunderstorm or hurricane. When the rare 10-hour day happens, someone is bound to be heard asking, “What are you gonna do with the extra time?” And what about a 5-day work week? All together now…Long weekend! A 5-day week typically follows Labor Day… or Memorial Day… which should probably be listed first, as it is observed earlier in the year… but they are in alphabetical order at the moment… and we just lost the OCD group. The rest of you, follow me. They can catch up later.

Do you remember in math class when you had to solve the word problems? Try this one. If a traveling Field Engineer puts in… lets say 72 hours a week, plus commuting, eating and sleeping (I skimp a little here), showering (do not skimp here, trust me, the world thanks you), time with my wife (for the sake of argument we’ll call this a 30 minute phone call, she’s busy too) and a sprinkling of other miscellaneous free-time activities (favorite TV-shows, learning Japanese, etc.), how much time does that man have to enjoy his video games? Correct! Not enough! Gold star for all of you!

And so it goes. That new game I’m all excited about could be played immediately, but only at the expense of the back-log. If I ever get ambitious enough to post my own review of a game, rest assured, it will most likely be a game released at least 12 months ago.

Is there any hope to be found, any solution to the overabundance of awesome? Probably. But in all honesty, I’m enjoying the challenge. Game On, fellow cave dwellers… Game On!

In Closing

Since my last post I have completed the following:

Heavy Rain
Assassin’s Creed 2 (finished off DLC)
Batman: Arkham Asylum (100%)
Mini Ninjas (100%)
Enslaved: Odyssey to the West (100% and DLC)
Prince of Persia (100% and DLC)

Hope to see you here again soon, thanks for stopping by. Oh, and if you know why the answer is “42”, you get an extra gold star!

I Love Video Games – Part 1

2011-02-01T23:27:00.001-08:00

It’s February again already?! I am really not attacking this whole blogging thing with any kind of regularity at all, am I? So much has happened, Labor Day, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years and my beloved Philadelphia Eagles making a fleeing exit from this year’s post season.

I mentioned in my last post that I had just reached the wise old age of 30 (almost six months ago… ugh) and I have since had the opportunity to apply a portion of new found wisdom to my daily life. For example, Hamburger Helper. I have eaten Hamburger Helper countless times over the course of my life thus far, preparing it myself for probably half of that time. Whenever I would make Hamburger Helper, I would place all of the ingredients into the skillet in the order they appear in the directions found on the box. My task was then to thoroughly blend the ingredients together without making a mess of the stove, which is tricky as my skillet nearly runneth over. After three decades of this battle, the light bulb finally went off. Stir the water and sauce mix in a separate bowl first! It’s so simple!

It’s not all sunshine and rainbows, however. Forever gone are the days when each bite is taken with anticipation, wondering if this is the bite containing a concentrated pocket of unmixed flavoring, hidden in the curve of a noodle. Oh well, I guess even wisdom has a price. Moving on.

Video Games

The first thing you should learn about me, relative to my video game habit, is that I rarely play new releases. This is of course inversely proportional to the frequency at which I buy new releases. You can easily imagine more than one dilemma resulting from this situation. If you can’t… then you’re not trying… or you have a brain cloud… just like Tom Hanks in Joe Versus the Volcano. Did you see it? It was great! Why is it that whenever anyone brings up one of the Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan movies, nobody mentions Joe Versus the Volcano? I suppose I can understand, I mean, they starred together in like 3 dozen movies after all. Of course, I had very little appreciation for it the first time. I saw it in the theater as a kid and most of the movie went right over my head, and I don’t think I even noticed that Meg Ryan played like three different characters. If you haven’t seen it, watch it. If you have seen it, it might be time for a refresher.

Hmmm… well this took an unexpected turn. Totally lost my train of thought. We should probably take a Mountain Dew break. I want everybody to regroup here in five, without the brain cloud.

What Do You Want To Be When You Grow Up?

2010-08-23T13:05:00.001-07:00

Welcome back fellow cave dwellers! I know what you’re thinking, “Two posts in less than a week?” I’m just as surprised as you are. Perhaps I’m getting the hang of this “blogging” thing after all? Only time will tell.

When we last met I was telling you a bit about my time spent in “Louavull”, and now it’s time to get started on New Orleans. I’ve already been here for seven weeks, so I’m still playing catch-up.

It was my birthday last week, did you know that? That’s alright, it snuck up on me too. A couple weeks ago I flew back home to the Bay for the weekend and my wife, in league with our wonderful friends, threw me a surprise party. I won’t get into it too much here as the event has already been well chronicled by my too kind and loving wife. Check out the pictures on her blog. It was much better than I deserve, but then again, who among us is really deserving of a cake in the shape of Darth Vader’s helmet? An awesome time was had by all.

Yeah, it turns out I’m 30 now… not sure how I feel about that. At this point I guess it’s too late to start wondering what I’m going to be when I grow up, I’m already there.

I am definitely my father’s son in the truest sense. Although I have two younger brothers (and three younger sisters) and we all take after both of our parents in different ways, this apple certainly did not fall far from the paternal tree. Don’t get me wrong, I do have some traits in common with my mother, and I’m still my own man. Let’s just say, it can be pretty easy to see the relation. Our tastes in music, movies, humor and hobbies, not to mention personality traits can be so similar sometimes it’s scary, just ask Mrs. B. As Luke Skywalker would say, “I am a Field Engineer, like my father before me.” Okay, maybe he didn’t say it exactly like that, but it was pretty close.

As a kid, I looked forward to summer time just like everybody else. Long days, no school and big plans. But I also loved summer because occasionally I could go with my dad to work. I’d get to wear a gigantic hard hat and reflective vest and follow him around whatever construction site he was currently working on. Not only did I get a front row seat to watch the big machines push around earth and rock (show me one little boy who doesn’t smile at even a backhoe at work, I dare you), but I got an early impression of the camaraderie that exists in the industry between the individuals working on the same task or project. And it’s probably similar in many occupational fields, but there was always something about construction that struck me to my very core.

I clearly remember one particularly awesome experience, when my father was working on a new dam up in the mountains. Like many projects built away from residential areas, this job was ongoing around the clock. My father and I arrived at… well I can’t remember the time but it was early, early enough to still be dark on a summer morning. As we sat in his truck waiting for the day shift to start, I was mesmerized by the site on top of the dam. Even in the dark of night, the construction lighting brightened the work area like it was noon. In the distance I could see the dump trucks, loaders and dozers drive along the dam crest and park, their weary operators dismounting to shake hands and crack jokes in passing with the relieving shift. I never did understand why that memory stuck out so, but there you have it.

And it’s not like I always wanted to work in construction, mind you. I was a lot like my peers at that age, dreaming of being a professional athlete, astronaut or cowboy. Only now as I look back with what wisdom I’ve gained, can I see that those early experiences and my enthusiasm at the time have clearly telegraphed the course my life would take as I entered the adult world and the work force.

I love my job! That’s not to say that it doesn’t come with it’s own share of challenges and frustrations, but the rewarded feelings of satisfaction and accomplishment for overcoming those make all the difference. I have the pleasure of working with some fine individuals, and together we form a tight-knit (though quite diverse) family. The many ways in which each project differs from the next, the new people we meet and locations we experience all combine for a very exciting, fulfilling way to make a living.

However, we are here today to discuss one of the less important benefits of my work (I know, I take a while to get there don’t I?). The SWAG!

There is often a supplier or contractor who wants to take you out to lunch to talk business, which is always fun when you are on the road because the local guys know where the good food is. Then there are the hats and shirts, the bulk of construction swag. I have at home a large box full of t-shirts with logos for suppliers of every kind of construction material or service, and a shelf in the closet piled high with hats of the same. And occasionally, the suppliers and other contractors you do business show their appreciation in the form of tickets to sporting events. I’ve been to several San Francisco Giants games and have seen the 49ers play twice (it was nice to finally see my beloved Eagles in person for once).

The swag is not the reason I do what I do, nor is it the reason why I try so hard to do it right. The fact remains, it would be rude to refuse such gestures of gratitude, and I am a considerate and appreciative cave-man. So when someone says, “We’d like to take you guys to see the Saints/Texans pre-season game in the company suite,” you grit your teeth and politely accept. Just to be clear, you know I’m being a tad sarcastic here right? On the outside I’m playing it cool like I go to NFL games all the time and I’m quite accustomed to the luxury of watching from a suite, on the inside I’m pulling a Captain Morgan pose and declaring, “To the Superdome!”

Without my awesome photographer wife on hand for the event, my limited skills will have to suffice.

The Superdome is much more impressive than my pictures can convey. I can only guess at the potential intimidation a visiting team could experience, having to face the reigning Super Bowl Champions in such a pigskin cathedral.

I’ve always felt that the pre-season was more or less ignored by the sports fan community, I expected an indifferent attitude in light of the fact that it “didn’t really matter”. I came away from this experience with a whole new respect for Saints fans. Two hours before kickoff, the Superdome was already surrounded by a mass of excited fans and the adjacent, newly built Champions Square was filling in nicely.

A likely combination of the excitement from last year’s triumph and the relief that football season is once again upon us had assured that everyone was present and encountered for. Some even making the trip from a galaxy far, far away!

If you’ve never had the opportunity to enjoy a sporting event from the comfort of a suite, I genuinely and sincerely hope that you get that chance soon. It’s something that everyone should get to experience at least once. I’ll walk you through it briefly, and bear in mind that your results may vary as I’m sure it’s different from stadium to stadium.

As we got off the elevator and walked down the hall to the suite, the first thing you notice is that there will be no getting up from the game to wade through a sea of fans in search of a bathroom, the suite has it’s own. Then there is a bar and food station surrounding a very comfortable sitting area, complete with multiple television screens. For those who drink, there was what appeared to be an endless supply of whatever your poison is. For me, sadly, there was no Mt. Dew. When I asked about that I was told in a very serious tone, “Oh, there’s no Pepsi products here.” I made do with Coke. Before the game even started I put away a very large chili-cheese dog and a plate of BBQ meatballs over steaming rice. Just before halftime I helped myself to a plate from the nacho bar. As much as I wanted to, I never did seem to find enough room for the pulled-pork sandwiches or the alfredo penne with shrimp. After the food area, you step down into the area with your seats and a fantastic view of the field.

The ‘Dome soon filled up and the New Orleans Saints won a decided victory over the Houston Texans in front of a packed house of screaming, cheering die-hards. As my Project Manager (left) said, “It was a most successful mission!”

For my Superintendent (center) and I (right, with the awesome belt buckle!), this was the first time we’ve seen a game from such accommodations and we all had a great time we won’t soon forget.

Thanks again for stopping by the cave, let’s do it again real soon.

From New Orleans, welcome back Football Season! We’ve missed you!

Where Does the Time Go?

2010-08-20T06:13:00.001-07:00

Has it really been over four months since my last post? Well, I guess that seems about right. It feels like two weeks ago it was February and we still had all of 2010 to look forward to. Now it’s time to find our second wind and make sure the last half of the year is productive, fun and memorable while there’s still time.

But where are my manners? Come in and get settled first. As always there is cold Mt. Dew in the fridge (I’m stocking it in 4 flavors now). Get comfortable, and we’ll catch up.

No, take your time, I’ll wait for you.

Still waiting…

Any minute now.

Better? Good! Let’s begin. A lot has happened in four months! It’s amazing how the speed at which time seems to pass is proportional to how much activity is going on in our lives. Not to mention, the additional multiplier that increases with age… I have the mathematical formula around here somewhere… I’ll find it later. Moving on.

In the month following my previous post, work was really ramping up. Bid proposals, project submittals, etc. for many projects both awarded and potential were guaranteeing everyone in the office was swamped. On top of that, I was about six weeks away from leaving town to start building one of these projects. Needless to say, I was trying to get in as much Wife Time as possible while I could.

I work for a specialty construction company based in the Bay Area. In a nutshell, “specialty construction” means that the service you provide isn’t something you can just find in your local phone book in most communities. What does this mean for me? I travel… a lot. The Bay Area is unique in that we actually perform a lot of work there, so it makes sense to be headquartered there. In fact, I was fortunate enough to work for over a year on a large, local project that allowed me to be home every night. But for now, that time has passed and I am on the road.

My first stop and subject for this post was Louisville, Kentucky. And I’ll warn you in advance, I don’t really have any pictures to add because I was working 12 to 16 hours a day during the week and trying to squeeze some quality gaming time in on the weekends. However, Mrs. B came to see me for the 4th of July weekend and has already posted pictures of the amazing sights here and here. She is quickly becoming an excellent photographer and you won’t regret checking out her pictures.

So, Louisville. The first thing you should know is how to properly say it. There are supposed to be several accepted pronunciations, but I will instruct you in the most common form as heard by the locals during my stay. The first step is to kind of let your tongue go numb. Take a minute and imagine you are sitting in a dentist’s chair and the anesthetic has just kicked in. After you are properly numbed, using minimal tongue movement, say “Louavull”. It takes a bit of practice.

I was surprised at how small Louisville is. It’s a city that everyone has heard of, in fact it’s probably the first city that comes to mind when most people are asked to name a Kentucky city (unless you worked extra hard in grade school to learn the state capitals, and continually drill yourself to keep fresh). Don’t misunderstand me, geographically Louisville is quite large, but when you consider how much “stuff” is actually there, it is a small place. After having spent considerable time in San Francisco and Atlanta, Louisville seems more like a town than a city and is all the better for it.

Being on a tight construction schedule, and working such long hours as mentioned above, I didn’t really do as much sight-seeing as I would have liked. Other than driving between the hotel and the jobsite, or the occasional shopping trip for necessities (e.g. Mt. Dew, frozen pizza) I didn’t do any sight-seeing at all until Mrs. B came to visit the last weekend I was there. I’ll get to that later.

Louisville is a beautiful place, the landscape reminded me of my favorite parts of Georgia. The trees are so thick everywhere that open highways feel more like green, leafy tunnels. The terrain was much more mountainous though.

And check out this huge moth hanging around my hotel.

The language barrier was a little tricky at first. A combination of the local accent and my ever-evolving one (an unintentional “greatest hits” of the many places I’ve worked in over the last 6 and a half years) provided a good challenge. One of the local men we hired as a laborer was convinced I had no sense of humor because I never laughed at any of his jokes… he may as well have been talking to me in sign language. Overall, everyone I had the opportunity to cross paths with was friendly and happy to help, or even just chat for a minute. And there are a lot of common phrases they use that I’ve never heard anywhere else, though most are a bit on the crude side and I won’t share them here. One of my favorites was, “You can’t put nine women in a room and expect to make a baby in one month.”

The biggest adjustment for me was to go from the comfort of my man-cave (see picture at the top of the page), to a hotel room with a tiny TV and slow internet. I was going to include a picture of this temporary “satellite man-cave” but I can’t seem to find it. And obviously I missed my wife, man-cave, aquarium and most of all…Proof. Have you met Proof? No, I don’t believe you have.

First, let me explain the name. I named her that because anyone can say the words, “I love you,” but my wife bought me a motorcycle. I have Proof.

I REALLY miss my motorcycle. I talk to my wife more than once everyday, and she flies out to visit with me or I fly home for the occasional weekend visit, but it’s not like she can put my bike on the phone. A 900cc cruiser is way too big to fit in her carry-on. And on top of that, there are easily more motorcycles in Louisville than any other place I have been. Watching all the natives cruising around daily was difficult to say the least. Apparently, Kentucky doesn’t have a helmet law. Out of all of the bikers I saw, very few of them wore helmets. In fact, it was not uncommon to see someone riding with no helmet, shades, gloves or shirt. You will never catch me riding like that.

One of my favorite things about staying in Louisville is Pet Shop Comics, an amazing store. I’m not really much for comic books, but this place is like an in-store catalogue for BoardGameGeek.com. Some of you look confused… it’s okay, don’t worry about it. I’ll just say this. When you’ve overturned your Monopoly board in a bankruptcy fueled rage for the last time, or when you come to the realization that Risk, while classic, is just not deep enough, go to BoardGameGeek.com. I still owe a significant debt of gratitude to a couple of very good friends for opening my eyes to what true tabletop entertainment could be.

We finished our phase of the construction project on the Friday of the 4th of July weekend, the same say Mrs. B came to see me. And what a weekend it was! From the airport we went straight to Churchill Downs to meet up with my co-workers for the last round of night racing this season. It was the first time I’ve ever been to a horse track and a good time was had by all. That weekend we explored downtown Louisville, took a tour of the Louisville Slugger Factory & Museum (I got a bat with my name engraved on it), drove by Fort Knox and generally had a great time.

After the great weekend, while my guys proceeded to dismantle our equipment and ship it out, I picked up my rental car and headed to the next project in New Orleans. And that will be a topic for another post.

And that is my definitive review of Louisville, Kentucky. A beautiful place I would love to visit again soon. Thanks for stopping by, I hope we can do it again.

Additionally, to show that I’ve been staying productive, these are the games I’ve completed since my last post:

Lego Star Wars, The Complete Saga (PS3)

Mirror’s Edge (PS3)
The Simpsons Game (PS3)
Tomb Raider: Underworld (PS3)
Indigo Prophecy (PS2)
Max Payne (PS2)
Max Payne 2: The Fall of Max Payne (PS2)

55 Gallon Paradise

2010-04-07T13:02:00.000-07:00

Welcome back visitors and fellow cave dwellers! The time has come for more musings from my lair. So make yourself comfortable and let’s dive right in shall we?

I like video games. I really like video games. A quick view of the title graphic above should make that abundantly clear. And while immersing yourself from time to time in one of the countless available offerings of the hobby is for the most part harmless, it’s not exactly… enlightening. I myself have indulged in “epic” gaming sessions on more than one occasion, in fact I seem to recall playing Uncharted: Drake’s Fortune from beginning to end in one sitting (minus bathroom breaks). It’s happened before and I won’t lie to you, it’s gonna happen again. But, just as “Man cannot live on bread alone”, a well-rounded caveman needs more than simply blowing crap up in high definition. If after reading this you think I’m suggesting that you merely add a racing or sports title to your collection, you’re missing the point… entirely. Read on friend, read on.

The well-rounded caveman also devotes some free time to constructive activities that allow for growth… for learning… for interacting with other members of the species in a setting that requires more than (shudder) “chat speak” . To achieve this in my own life I read, play the cello, and sing tenor in the church choir (just to name a few). My latest and greatest interest, one which will most likely be lifelong, is the topic for today. That’s right, we’re almost there. See how a little patience pays off?

Fish.

I am now an amateur aquarist. I suppose we can blame this on Mrs. B, although I maintain that it would have happened eventually anyway. I’ve always loved fish. As a youth I was instructed by my father in the fine art of fly-fishing, and most summer weekends would find us at one of our favorite spots showing trout or bass “just who was higher up on the food chain”. I’ve always had a healthy respect for fish and their habitat. At the few opportunities I’ve had to visit an aquarium such as the one in Monterey, I could just stand there with my nose next to the glass, content to watch for hours.

And let’s not forget our first trip to Hawaii last March. If you’ve never been snorkeling, I’ll try to describe it to you. You walk out from the beach until you are in water a couple of feet deep, which is MUCH harder to do than it sounds, what with the flippers and all. And the water washing in and out doesn’t do you any favors either, but I’m getting sidetracked. So you’re standing in water just above your knees, all geared up with the snorkel, goggles, yadda, yadda, yadda, and someone is telling you about all the colorful fish that are swimming around you at that moment. You look down skeptically at the relatively shallow water. You can’t see any fish and start to feel a bit ridiculous. Then you lay forward to float, face down (naturally). And that same shallow water you’ve been standing in, that couldn’t possibly have had anything swimming in it just a moment ago, is absolutely teeming! It was incredible! Beautiful fish of every shape and color, I even saw a couple of different eels up close as well. And as long as you don’t make a lot of quick, sudden movements, the fish pay you no mind and just go about their business. So…. basically that is a lengthy way to express that while some like dogs, cats, or maybe horses (all of which are just fine by me), I’m interested in fish.

On to the aquarium! One day Mrs. B decided to purchase a Betta fish and a bowl. In a matter of months we quickly progressed from that bowl to a 5 gallon aquarium, and again to a 10 gallon. Along the way we learned some hard lessons and made some beginner mistakes, which unfortunately resulted in a few losses. After lessons learned and with more experience, behold, my 55 gallon paradise!

This has been a wonderful and beautiful addition to our home, as well as a great source of motivation to seek out knowledge. I think that as adults in the “real world” there can oftentimes be a tendency to become complacent with our roles in life. We have our jobs and our family, and it can be easy to simply maintain a routine. As I may have alluded to above, my experience with freshwater fish as a fisherman has basically been limited to trout, bass and bluegill. I, like many others I’m sure, had no idea about the great many varieties of freshwater tropical fish that exist in the world. But ever since this endeavor began I’m reading books and internet forums, always learning something new and maintaining a fascination as well as a thirst for more. Now enough of that, let me introduce you to the critters that currently inhabit this piece of living art.

First, the fish that started it all, the Betta. The crown jewel and “king of the aquarium”. He’s by far the largest critter in the tank, and the most graceful. The Betta splendens is also known as the Siamese Fighting Fish because of their aggressive behavior towards others of the same or similar species. Mrs. B has named him “Xavier”.

Next we have the Danios. There are 3 Zebra Danios and 1 Golden Zebra Danio in the tank. These Danio rerio are the most active fish that we currently keep and the most difficult to photograph, always darting around the tank playing tag. The golden is named “Dash” and the zebras… still undecided.

And now the Otos, or Otocinclus. There are currently 4 of these little catfish in the aquarium. Although they aren’t nearly as colorful or exotic looking as the others, they are fun to watch. They have a small sucker mouth that they use to attach themselves to the glass or a plant and with a rasping motion, they eat the soft algae they find. Otos are also very fond of blanched zucchini slices and other vegetables. My wife insists that “School of Suck” is an inappropriate name for the group (I thought she liked Jack Black), but she hasn’t come up with a better one yet.

You can’t miss these guys, as Neon Tetra or Paracheirodon innesi are one

of the most colorful and popular

fish in the hobby. Because of their schooling nature we have 7. My favorite trait

of these fish is the iridescent color and more particularly, the tetra’s ability to “turn it off” at night. After the tank lights have been off for a few hours they become completely pale as they rest through the night (most likely a defense mechanism to protect them from nocturnal predators). We call them the “Rainbow Coalition”, and so long as one of them is decidedly larger than the rest, he is dubbed “The Reverend”.

The next critter is completely and totally the fault of Mrs. B. She just had to have one. And once she did have one, she just had to have a second. So now we have two African Dwarf Frogs. This is a small, fully aquatic frog that lives it’s entire life underwater. However, since it still breathes atmospheric air, it regularly darts to the surface to grab a lungful before diving straight back down to the bottom. This frog was the bane of my existence for the first couple of weeks due to it’s poor eyesight and less than stellar swimming skills. It just can’t compete with the other fish for food and must be target fed using a long turkey baster type apparatus to drop food right in front of it’s mouth. Mrs. B has named the male “Topher” and with all of her creativity hard at work she then named the female… “Mrs. Topher”. It works.

The frogs are the first of two non-fish inhabitants that we have (intentionally anyway, we’ve had a few snails stow away aboard recent plant purchases). The second kind are the Cherry Shrimp or Neocaridina heteropoda. These little guys are great! whatever types of algae the Otos won’t eat are dutifully tended to by these hard working invertebrates. Although I’ve purchased 37 of them, I have no idea how many are currently present. They hide when they molt and are very prolific, so it’s likely that they are now more than their original number. Even though the other inhabitants (except the Otos) would gladly partake in a shrimp snack, they jump almost like grasshoppers whenever a hungry fish shows any interest. The are known collectively as “The Rockettes”.

Finally we come to the Endler’s Livebearer or Poecilia wingei. Probably the fish I am most proud of. They have only been documented to have been found in one lagoon in northern Venezuela, and due to the upstream placement of a dump site, may now be extinct in the wild. They breed very easily in the aquarium and many hobbyist breeders of the fish can be found. They breed so easily in fact, that they will cross-breed with guppies, diluting the remaining population of the pure species. I currently have one mating pair, although we did spot a single fry swimming around on Monday. I haven’t seen it since, so it is either hiding or being digested. The brightly colored male is constantly displaying to the female, spreading his fins as far as possible. It’s funny to watch him court the female who is easily twice his size. We’ve come up with no names yet, but seeing as there will most likely be a small school of them after a few months, a group name will be more fitting.

And now you’ve met all the inhabitants of my aquatic utopia, thanks to the excellent and ever growing photography skills of my wonderful wife (I tried to take pictures of these guys first, but that was an exercise in futility).

Setting up and maintaining this aquarium has been an awesome experience. And surprisingly easy… once you understand how the nitrogen cycle works. It doesn’t take any more time to feed the tank than it does to feed the cat, and I only spend about an hour each Saturday to do a partial water change (about 20% or 10 gallons) which has kept the water crystal clear and more than habitable (water test kit is a MUST). And the payoff has been immeasurable. For example, some time back I had a pretty rough day at work. I forget the details but it was just one of those days where nothing went right and you end up feeling the need to break something. Add to that the unusually horrendous traffic on the way home and I was in a BAD MOOD. Coming home to an empty house (the Mrs. was away visiting her family for the weekend) I fully intended to lock myself away in the Man Cave for a long night of… well, blowing crap up in high definition. However, I didn’t make it past the fish tank. With an ice cold Mt. Dew in hand I sat alone in the quiet dark, only the bright aquarium lights illuminating my underwater world. Feeling the stress just melt away, while peaceful tranquility took it’s place, I watched my fish for two or three hours… and was then better equipped with the calm mind needed to pwn some n00bs (sorry, I couldn’t resist).

Thank you for visiting my cave and feel free to enjoy the short video clip Mrs. B took of the tank. Comments are always welcome (especially if you have any clever ideas for school names, I still need to name the Zebra Danios and the Endler’s Livebearers).

First Post

2010-03-22T12:52:00.000-07:00

Greetings one and all and welcome to The Man Cave... well, my Man Cave anyway. This is the first of what I hope to be many posts, in which I will share my thoughts and feelings about what I find interesting.

I have never "blogged" before and quite frankly, never thought that I would. I don't know why, it just seemed like something that I wouldn't be into. My wife, however, has been maintaining her own blog for some time now and I am continuously impressed with her results and thought about starting one of my own. Of course none of this would be possible without a great deal of her assistance. Thanks Love!

As you can see from the picture above, my Man Cave is primarily dedicated to electronic forms of entertainment. In short, video games and movies. The centerpiece is my 55" Samsung LCD, to which is connected my Playstation 3 and my laptop. My PS3 rests atop a small refrigerator that is always stocked with ice cold Mt. Dew (liquid awesome in a can), although I do allow the Mrs to keep a few cans or bottles of her own choice of beverage in there as well. Aren't I nice?

So come on in, help yourself to a cold Dew (grab me one while you're at it), kick off your shoes and let's get started. On second thought, CAREFULLY remove your shoes (first person to kick off a shoe, sandal, slipper or other form of footwear into the large TV earns a lifetime ban).

For my first post I thought a good topic of discussion would be.... Man Caves. Every man needs a Man Cave. I'll repeat that for emphasis, EVERY MAN NEEDS A MAN CAVE. It is absolutely and without question a necessity. Even Superman, the Man of Steel himself has his "Fortress of Solitude". Who can argue with that kind of logic?

But what makes a Man Cave? The guidelines are very flexible and basic. Any spare bedroom, corner of the garage or nook in the basement will do. It just needs to be a space of virtually any size that you can claim as your own. Somewhere you can retreat to for even just a few minutes at a time to indulge in your interests. Make sure to claim your space by decorating with posters or pictures, whatever contributes to the purposes of your cave. For the fly-fisherman, a Man Cave can simply be a table in the basement where new flies are tied while a small radio emits the offerings of a local classic rock station. For the book nut, a Man Cave may consist of a comfortable chair in a quiet corner next to a bookshelf.

Don't be greedy though, very few people have the space and resources to create the ultimate. This is simply a Man Cave, not a Man Utopia or vacation destination. Your cave shouldn't negatively impact the needs of the home. My own Man Cave, for example, becomes temporary lodging for friends or family when visitors come to stay.

And above all, be willing to make compromises with the Mrs. I am more than happy to grant my wife the title of "Queen of the Castle" while I am able to remain "King of the Cave".