Hooooooboy. Where to start...

Really have my hands full at the moment, so I'm going to keep this good and short for the moment. :(

1) Quality Television has moved to a new ISP and has a new URL. Please update your bookmarks to:

http://www.quality-television.net

There was a little bit of stupidity on my part and a lot of customer no service on the part of our former ISP. The old URL is now locked out and I couldn't transfer it to the new website. I'll try to snag it back after it expires but for now, it's .net instead of .com to get there.

*facepalm*

It's going to take awhile for things to settle into the new home. I am looking forward to having to fix tons of internal links, let me tell ya!

Also it takes a good 24 to 48 hours to reset the DNS settings so the website may be in and out during this time of transition. Joyous!

2) To add into the fun, the roof on my apartment has suffered structural collapse and needs repair, which is likely going to require a temporary hotel stay while they fix the mess.

No one's been hurt, my stuff is mostly ok. As long as we are spared from any heavy rain, wind or the like, things should hopefully remain ok. Happy happy, joy joy!

That's all I have for now! The good news out of all this is that the new webspace provides a hell of a lot more room, unlimited bandwidth and more options for potential awesome. More on this as things develop!

Like The Moment When The Brakes Lock...

Those in Austin remember all too well Charles Whitman and his senseless rampage at the University of Texas tower over 40 years ago. It saddens me to know that yesterday's spree at Viginia Tech replaced Whitman as the country's worst school rampage in our history.

The thing that surprises me just as it has a friend of mine who pointed this out to me this morning. From the responses that he has been getting is that people pointed to racial stereotypes about yesterday's shooting BEFORE considering the possibility that the gunman was most likely suffering from a psychological disorder. Psychological disorders are not limited to "Islamic tehrrrrorissts," and that is something that has been especially ignored conveniently.

I cite as examples:

Charles Whitman, The Manson Family, The DC Snipers, Timothy McVeigh, George Henard, Adolf Hitler, Josef Stalin, Jeffrey Dahmer, David Koresh, Jim Jones...

Point is that there is a ton of ignorance in this world that states that differences in race, religion, financial status, gender matter. In the Grand Scheme, they don't. Or at least, they shouldn't. Too much emphasis is placed in society (by the media, governments, entertainment outlets and by the individual choices that people make) on dividing us by what makes us "different" instead of uniting us by our common Human bond and celebrating what makes us different.

In some cases, it's subtle, in most cases it's not. We've been fighting amongst ourselves over these things for thousands of years and realistically none of that will ever end. The only hope we have left in this world is for people to start reaching out to their communities and start making choices towards building global cohesion and friendship, not forging hate and ignorance.

And that is not likely on a global scale.

We are a species that is capable of so much good and enlightenment but, as a species, more often choose the path that leads to such horror and destruction. We Americans spend more on defence annually than we do on educating our children, funding scientific and medical advancements over a four year period.

Think about that for a moment. According to the 2007 budget, our government currently spends 460+/- Billion a year on defence. We spend a combined total of around 114+/- Billion on education, science and technology. If these numbers hold reasonably steady, four years of defence spending would equal SIXTEEN years of spending on education, science and technology.

Am I suggesting that defence isn't important? No, of course not. The world is a tough place and we need to safeguard our citizens and our country from enemies foreign and domestic. Since our country has a proven history of meddling in other people's affairs (and rightly so in bonafide cases regarding the interests of promoting world freedom and protecting our nation), we've made ourself a target over the years. It'd be foolish to not be prepared.

We have this general overwhelming sense that as long as American Idol is on this week and that we know once and for all who was the second party who uploaded Anna Nicole's baby's DNA onto the World People Server, all is right in the world. Why should we waste money on going into space when we have Bin Laden to hunt? Why should we properly fund our schools when teachers "make enough money as it is?"

Why should we study history or geography when it "doesn't apply to anything I need to know?"

Our nation has lost general focus on what is important in life. If we are to survive as a species, we must start working together. We focus too much on "entertainment" or unimportant "fluff" issues that the media kindly spoonfeeds us instead of research, education, science, building friendships, promoting cultural togetherness, mending the rift of gender inequality, events and viewpoints in other nations, social cohesion.

Events like the VT shooting are tragic, but that does not give good cause or reason to start lining up the nearest group of people of a race that is different than the one you happen to belong to just because you think they "look funny." It's attitudes like this that fired the ovens of Auschwitz, set the churches aflame in Mississippi and brought down the Twin Towers.

Think I'm being a little overdramatic?

Study a little history.

Or are you sheeple just too obsessed with finding out if they finally managed to kick Sanjaya off American Idol yet?

A Wake For An Honoured Guest...

Gather around and hoist a cold one of your choosing, for it is time for me to toast the memory of teh Kate.

*pours a cold Sierra Nevada into the glass*

I remember the time when we were going to entertain guests at the house. I had spent a few hours marinating some steaks and when they were almost ready for the grill, I left the bowl containing the steaks on the counter while I went outside to double check the grill's readiness.

I remember coming back in two minutes later to find an empty bowl and Katy was suddenly not anywhere around. I found her in the bedroom, laying on her bed with one of the biggest guilty looks I have ever seen.

It didn't take me more than a second to catch a whiff of steak breath to know without a doubt as to where the evening's feast went to. I was so mad at first, but just seeing that priceless look on her gob proved that I was truly just a softy at heart.

"How'd it taste, brat?" I grinned at her as she sunk down as low as she could. Then, she gave the slightest of burps and I couldn't help but chuckle. "Oh, ok. You're still grounded, kid. No fetch for you this evening!"

She gave me a sigh that practically said, "Sorry, Dad. It was just too much to resist."

She'd snatch the ocassional dinner every now and then, so I learned that if I was going to make something tasty like hamburgers, I'd better make her one as well. Just hold the pickles! was the unspoken request.

Salut!

*Downs a sip*

Now, my brother reminded me last night of the time when I used Katy to help me play a prank on a SO, who was a pre-k teacher. The SO had been cutting out huge die cuts of letters to use in her classroom. I remember taking a picture of Katy standing over a pile of one letter that I had arranged on the floor in particular.

"Sorry, dear," I aplogized as I passed over the picture I had taken, "Katy 'P'd on the floor earlier and I thought you just had to see..."

Yep, I had taken a pile of die cuts of the letter P, spread them on the floor and had Katy stand over them as I took a picture.

Good times!

*Downs another gulp*

I remember when Katy had puppies. She had been a 'teenage mom', getting with a black lab during her first heat instead of the golden retriever that I had in mind for her when she had her second heat.

Even then, I still remember that long day and into the night as I stood vigil with her. If one ever wants to experience the joys of new life and hasn't had a kid, helping to bring puppies into the world is probably the closest thing.

She was so brave and I had never been prouder of her. The experience of raising puppies, while messy, was one of the cherished pet memories I've had. I remember Katy being with me as each puppy left for a good home. If she wasn't happy with the prospective owner, no deal. Judging by the homes that her kids went to, Katy had a good sense of who were truly Good People.

It's a lot of comfort to me that my folks have one of her puppies. At least I can still see something of her in Cocoa. Think I'll pop down for a surprise visit to give my grandpuppy a hug this week!

Cheers!

*Another one down the hatch*

When we had the house fire that essentially made us temporarily homeless, I remember how much I relied on Katy for support. I know it seems strange to some, but I know that she knew that things were very amiss and her reaction to it was to try to be strong.

She stuck by me that whole time and no matter how depressed I was or whatever else I was going through in life, she was always there to snuggle right next to me and let me know that she was there. That she cared.

That meant more to me than I think either of us realized. We may have lost our home and the cards may have been stacked against us for awhile, but she was there to see me through.

I remember how she was after my grandmothers died, both a year apart from each other. I didn't want to leave the house, let alone crack a smile, yet Katy always found a way to make me chuckle by her antics.

Big hearted kid, she was.

Here's one in honour of my friend in thick and thin!

*A long gulp for the love of that big, strawberry blonde clown!*

I remember that some of the best times were floating down the river. She'd get her own tube and while she seemed to spend half the trip happily swimming circles around the tubes, she was having the time of her life.

Some of the other best times we had were usually rides that we'd take in my truck. She loved nothing more than a long car ride because it meant that we were going on an adventure. Even if that adventure was to boring places such as the bank, or unwelcome places, such as the vet for her annual checkup. It was still something fun and exciting in her eyes.

Here's to those who find amusement in the most ordinary of circumstances...

*Another long sip*

Finally, here's a final toast to her memory. Thank you Katy for your lessons in taking things easy in life and for your love. I will never forget you. Fair winds and all the medium-rare steaks you can eat to ya kid.

Here's to Katy, the best friend a guy could have!

*Drains glass*

In Memory of My Best Friend...

Katy
4/25/00 - 10/11/06

It's hard to describe to non-pet owners about how it feels to lose a pet. Most pet owners would say it was like losing a best friend or family member.

For me, Katy was both.

I spoke some time ago of the day we met. Myself, the struggling photographer stuck in Houston for a summer who just happened to drive by one day, Katy the sleepy golden puppy who seemed to have not one care in the world.

The polar ice cap surrounding my heart melted as I stared into those sweet brown eyes that day. I knew that we were going to be best pals through thick and thin.

Flash forward 6.5 years later.

I received a frantic phone call last night as I was attempting to finish an order that I had due out early today. "Get here quick," the voice pleaded between sobs, "Katy's been hit by a car. I think... I think she's dead."

It was one of those moments when time stops. The only thing you are aware of is your breathing as the primal instinct of protecting your loved ones takes over. The car runs on automatic, using only the small part of your brain that is not otherwise occupied.

I arrived to find my little girl in the trunk of a car. She had been moved from the scene of the accident the only way that the person who called me could. The police had come and gone and I briefly recall myself asking why no one had tried CPR on her, forgetting briefly that I was talking about a dog and not a human.

I opened the trunk and there she was, still warm yet limp and lifeless. Her eyes were opened slightly and I could see from the lack of any movement and by the condition of her rib cage as I picked her up that she was indeed gone.

The next thing I can remember is cleaning my garage. Somehow I had moved her from the trunk to my truck to the garage without even realizing how long it took.

I had fetched her bed and laid her on it, having gently wrapped her up in her favorite blanket. It was then, as I stared at her when I finally lost it. She looked like she was just taking a nap, that she would hear my voice and would somehow spring to life again.

Since it was late, the vet was closed. I had to make arrangements for her... Funeral? Burial? What, I didn't know.

I rent, so I knew right away that I couldn't just pick out a nice spot in the back yard for her. I had briefly thought about asking my folks if I could bury her on their property, but a part of me knew fairly well that they probably wouldn't be amused by such a request. They might grudgingly agree, but I just don't think it was worth the drama.

I called the emergency number of the vet and contacted the local shelter. My choices were few. No one could take her in until 8 AM the next day for the purposes of cremation and the only other option that the people who answered the phone gave me was to take her to the shelter and place her in the dumpster they use for animal body disposal.

Dump my Katydid in a dumpster? I think the words "fuck" and "no" seemed to follow one another in rapid succession.

So, I did the only thing that I could do. I had a few beers and a big cry.

The place was littered with little reminders of her everywhere. A picture here, a tennis ball there, her leash hanging silently from the peg on the wall.

I don't remember sleeping more than an hour or two last night. I had a long talk with my brother, who above all I knew would understand. I chatted with my friend Trystera on teh Internets well into the wee hours until I finally managed to pass out, going out to the garage one last time to wish Katy a good night's sleep. As ridiculous as that may sound to some, it's hard to break the habits of 6.5 years. Anyone stupid enough to tell me that I'm nuts for that can go die in a fire.

Also, the assholes in this world who smack into beloved family pets and don't even bother to either move the animal or attempt to call the owner by looking at the tags on their collars can ALSO die in a fire. To hear it correctly, the fucknut didn't even bother to stop. Just *thump* and "What was that? Oh well..." hit and run dickshittery.

Harsh? You're absolutely goddamned right. I'm grieving, so suck it.

Somehow, 7 AM creeped upon me and I rose to get ready for the unwelcome task ahead. I put on my grubby housework clothes and walked into the garage.

"Morning, Kate," I choked back a few tears when I realized that she wasn't jumping up to see me, tail wagging all the time, "it's time to get ready to go for one last ride in the truck."

I snipped a few hairs from her fluffy tail. I thought I'd wrap a little ribbon around them and put the bunch in with a picture I had taken of her a year back. I got the idea from after my grandmother died. The funeral home had clipped a few hairs from my grandma and placed the lock of hair inside a little picture frame and gave it to my grandfather after her cremation. I thought the idea was sweet.

After that, I wrapped another blanket around her. It needed to be done, let's just leave it at that.

With one big heave, I lifted her, dog bed and all, into the back of my truck. The ride to the vet was a short one. The people were very kind and helped me to bring her inside.

They placed her on an exam table and it was time to say my goodbyes. The vet left me alone with her for a few more minutes and I scratched her gently behind the ear one last time.

Goodbye, Katybelle. I will always love you, my fluffy friend...

Since the day we first met, Katy and I have seen quite a few times, both good and bad. We've survived a house fire, we've chased tennis balls like there was no tomorrow, been there during the trials and emotional upsets that life throws at you and we've gone on more rides in my truck than I can recall.

You know the thing I loved most about the Kate?

The fact that no matter how horrible a day I had, no matter who I had pissed off or offended in some way or another, whenever I walked into the house, she was always there to greet me. She was always genuinely happy to see me. She was loyal, always happy to lend an ear (providing I scratched it, of course :) ) and just the sweetest dog you'd ever meet.

I always felt loved when Katy was around, even if my pitching arm grew tired of lobbing tennis balls hither and yon. She was happiest when we were together and I just couldn't foresee a time when we wouldn't be. Six point five years was too goddamned short.

I will miss my fluffy golden, more than anyone could understand. If there truly is a dog heaven, may she have all the bones and steak that she can eat, chase all the tennis balls that she wants and swim in the big, blue river in the sky.

G'night, my dear. I hope that wherever you are, you're happy.

We're Turning Again...

One of my best friends sent this online news article about a restaurant roof that collapsed and killed a 23 year old Texas Tech graduate the other day.

Here's the kicker: my friend knew her personally. They were friends of sorts, having worked together at the same museum while she was still going to Tech.

I sent a response to his e-mail and encouraged him to call me or e-mail back if he needed to talk. Having known this friend for almost half our respective lives, we've shared a lot of conversations working through the bad stuff in our lives as well as discussing the latest fart joke or other such fun happy moments.

The next morning, I received his reply (which has been edited down for respect of privacy):

"It is just unsettling to see someone so young die in such a bizarre accident. One minute you are paying for take-out and the next minute a fucking roof falls on you. In a way, this is worse than dying in an auto accident because of a drunk driver - at least you have *some* control in that scenario. With this accident, she was completely powerless. In a way it is creepy. It is stuff like this that really makes you say, "Seize the day" because you never know just how much time you have."

The message contained in that paragraph rings so very true. Life is uncertain, make your time. I may be taken out by a rogue rabid pigeon assault tomorrow and while that news may make Fark's front page and elicit a laugh from the world, it wouldn't be so damned funny when it happens to you.

Truth is that we hear about freak accidents, disasters, murders and about lives cut short all the time. Whether these may be caused by bad karma, bad luck or by a sadistic Higher Power who get a chuckle, the fact remains that we will all die, some sooner than others.

The message I get is that one should make the most of one's time and indeed seize the day. You can't live your life obsessing over when you die, you must simply make the most of what you've got.

And with that, I'm having a bowl of Grape Nuts in the morning, yesireebob. Hey, it's a start...