WE will be camping with the gang at Kentucky Speedway Jun 11-jun 14^th Busch nascar race on Saturday!
Its just south of Cincy on Highwya 71
Translation: Hwy 35 Rt 1, Sparta, KY‎ - (859) 567-3400‎

We've spent two weekends at home. I guess this weekend was a good one because I wrote a Yatzee program on Saturday. It was fun to do. Writing games is always fun. In my spare time, I can usually write one program a day. We're taking the neighbors out Tuesday, camping in Kentucky this Friday during the Nascar races. Jennifer will be coming to stay for a month on the 20th. We'll pick her up in Buffalo, NY. After that, every weekend will be spent traveling and having fun. I'm hoping we'll see Niagra Falls, New York City, Washingon DC, Kennywood and Ohio Pyle.

Becky gets fitted for her new smile today. I've thought of her as lucky. She has a beautiful smile. I always wanted dentures. My Mom had dentures. She said she loved them.
Being a smoker and a coffee drinker almost all of my life, I have had a No Awards winning smile. On the flip side, I still have most of my teeth, which should count for something. I can still strip wires with my front teeth, which is darned handy.

I don't remember when my memory went bad. har har
All I know is, I've always had to struggle with ways remember things all of my life.
Take for example: when 
I was a waiter at Mgm.
I worked the Exec Station. That meant that I couldn't refer to Clint Eastwood as 'Mr'. I had to say, 'Good evening, Mr Eastwood. May I offer you something to drink?'.
I remember Seigfried sat on my station once singing Framptons "I'm in You, You're in me". I had to think about that one for awhile.
I also had the floor execs.
One was Mr Green who was white, another was Mr White who was black. So, Mr White was black and Mr Green was white. That seemed like a memory grabber.
Then there were the show people:
they would cram 8 in a booth designed for 3.
They'd order their hearts of lettuce salads, their tea with the bag on the side, and so forth.
They never tipped more than 50 cents. I guess in England, food servers don't get tipped. We were lowly scullions.
But that was okay because occassionaly I'd date one of the show girls.
I remember, I offered a showgirl a nickel for her thoughts, and she ripped me off. She had NO thoughts, I mean NONE, but the girl sure could dance.
See now, I forgot what I was talking about.
Oh yes, memory.
These days I have an IPhone. I can just take someone's picture, then email it to myself with their name.
And if someone is talking about something I know nothing about, I google it. If someone is throwing abbreviations around, I can look that up too.
Take for instance, my title these days. I'm a CE in BISD representing ADI for FI. I can't find those in Google, but I can ask and take notes on my IPhone for these things.
I think it's pretty cool. In the current world, you don't need a good brain, all you need is an IPhone.

Look down on the bottom right.
It took about 8 hours to write a Yatzee game from scratch.
I love programming. It's a passion of mine.
I used four langauges to create it. I would have liked to use just one, but thats the way things have become of the last decade.
We were talking about new languages that have cropped up over the last 10 years or so.
I'd think most of them are passing fads. Many new languages promise to ease programming woes.
They hope to eliminate programmers.
All systems are simple in the beginning. 
Enhancements make them become complex.
When a new language is adopted, the systems have to be rewritten.
Its not the language that makes them simpler, its the rethinking about changes done after decades of time.
And it doesn't matter what language the systems are written in, ALL systems become complex. 
Programming isn't about knowing a language (I know quite a few).
Programming is about thinking logicially.
To create a system you must be able to hold a line of thought.
So I have to laugh at the people who more-or-less run to Best Buy and purchase packages that promise to eliminate programming !
Imagine how that might work:
A manager clicks a picture of an ATM and drags it over to a new Bank, and the programming is done. Maybe that will work someday. LOL!
Imagine now that the manager wants to trade stocks on the ATM, or add a donation, or whatever, and there isn't an option for it in his package.
Its the same old story. You can't update the package by simply hiring a programmer.
EVERYTHING has to be written from scratch, or the manager will have to pay extraordinary amounts of money to get the package enhanced.
What I'm saying is, you can't create a system without thinking.
A lot of places I've contracted with have off the shelf packages that they've forced on their workers.
We may deal with 10 packages, just to accomplish a simple task, like adding time to our time sheets.
And I think this may be where America has gone wrong.
Greatness doesn't happen by simply throwing money at something.
You have to plan and you don't need a plan for how to plan. You simply have to think.

- If you have a S-Corp, go 1099. You'll have more write offs and will pay almost half in taxes.
- If  you can go W4 and you live out of state, get your contract amended to include Per Diem as part of your wage.
Never fall in love with a contract.
Outsiders usually know whats going on inside your company before you do.
Insiders may know whats going, but will be reluctant to talk about it.
Reviewing Monster and Dice will tell you a lot (query your position and area). Company websites often tell you a lot.
In this information age, truth can be extrapolated from bits and pieces collected through various resources.
In most cases, contractors are frowned upon
It looks like they draw more income, which isn't true.
Full Timers and Salaried Workers may do better than Consulants, even though they make less.
Judging income by looking at hourly wage is a bit bone headed.
A full timer at $30 an hour may end up doing better than a contractor at $40 an hour.
- In most cases, contractors usually don't get paid a vacaton, sick days, employer matched 401k's, and worst of all group health insurance
- 1099 Contractors pay full state taxes, FICA, health insurance (if they can get it) and may have to pay unemployment insurance and workmans compensation.
- The big perk for being an hourly contractor is, you get paid for every hour you work.
Salaried employees often work 60+ hours a week, uncompensated.
I think in general, if you are a programmer, there are no stable positions.
Unless you move up the ladder, you are expendable.
Since outsourcing became popular in the 90's, both salaried employees and consultants have become major targets of budget cuts.
- I've seen situations where almost all of the salaried programmers were laid off, and the contractors were kept.
- I've seen situations where an entire floor of an apartment building was rented to house foreign contractors for an all expense paid contract. 
These foreign contractors make far less in wages. Often, they send most of what they make back to their families. Its almost impossible for natives to compete with that.
However, with the rise of foreign contractors, comes the rise of communication failures. I believe Business Analyst have become popular for that reason.
For these reasons, with management overloading, what used to take a week to impliment, may now take 6 months.
Plus, unlike 10 years ago, when I had one boss, I now have many.
It is important to maintain a network of contacts
Whether salaried, full time, or contracting, everybody is subject to the ax.
In the end, maybe half of the people I've known end up on the street.
The best thing you can do to remain stable is to find a niche.
I think that in the struggle for management to quantify what programmers do
- the cost has been dead paperwork
- documention that no one looks at
- meetings that sometimes involve over 100 people most of which don't have a clue about what is going on
- Constant updates of your status
- Paranoid procedures have been developed. Often, security procedures are created by people who do know the application.
The following is a good story to share.
I made an error, or so it would seem. I wasn't allowed to see productions configuration until implementation day. Its configuration was different than our test system.
I could have fixed the configuration in one minute, but instead, I had to back my programs out and do a workaround. That took 3 months.
I got a black eye for that, but I don't blame myself. I blame poorly designed management procedures and horrible security implementations. To much management means slower responses. Too much security may mean months of red tape to cut through.

It looks like another wonderful day in Pittsburgh.
I can't begin to describe my feelings.
I wake up in the morning and a cardinal is peeping at my door. I toss it some peanuts. Then out comes Scats, our friendly chipmunk, who fills up his ever expanding cheeks with peanut morsels.
Life is everywhere and it seems boundless. From critters the size of a speck, to the bounding deer traversing the mountain slopes, it's incredible.
My contract should end in September.
And when I go, all my memories of this place, and its beautiful people, will be frozen in a place where there's no space, and no time.
So if you catch me sometime,
looking at nothing with a smile on my face, that is where I'll be. These last few years have been the best of my life.
I want to leave this life happy,
in my sleep like my Grandfather, and not like the other people in his car yelling and screaming.

While creating a log called Obits, I came across a letter that is very special.
This letter was written by my Mom after my Grandfather died.

My Mom was a beautiful person.
I remember leaving her hours before she passed on. I kissed her, told her I loved her so much. She waved at me with one of those red, glowing sensors on her finger and smiled so big.
I never thought she was going to die in her sleep hours later. My wife (Ruth) and I had prepared a room for her at my house, for when she got out. Mom seemed to get around just fine.
But I was so busy in those days. I had to reinstall almost all of the applications at Caesars that month.
Maybe I saw, but I didn't notice that my Mom, my best friend in this life, was slipping away.
Mom died 10 years to the day, after her husband (Dave Leblanc) died. Dave, Mom, and my Grandfather died just before their insurance ran out.
Dave was my step-dad, and what a great guy he was.
Almost all of the people I loved from that period are gone now. Only my brother and I are left to honor their memories.

---

I sent some flowers to Ruth (my ex-wife) in Mississippi. She's not going to survive much longer -gbhs. While I was on FTDs website, I thought we'd send some flowers to Becky's Mom (Gma). Well, I got a call from the Mississippi FTP florist, who jokingly said in a strong Mississippi accent "I would love to travel to Las Vegas to deliver these flowers, but can you afford it?". I said "I thought FTD employed a naked guy with wings on its head and feet to deliver flowers". I cancelled the order. Meanwhile, I got a call from a friend who is in a Asia. He called saying "Jiiiim, Heeeeeelp.". I can't resist that. In all of the excitement, he left his credit card in an ATM, and was stranded with just the money he had in his pocket. I took the morning off and wired him some money. I didn't have time to replace the flower order though. Becky went on to finish what I/we started earlier...getting some flowers for GMa. Later that day, while at the store getting some sliced ham (half of which I ate in the checkout line),  I'd realized I'd made a BIG mistake. I'd gotten flowers for my ex, and we'd gotten flowers for Becky's Mom, but I'd overlooked the most important person in my life...Miss BECKY. Now this is really wild, I bought her some Starlight Lillies, a little Koala Bear, and a nice MOther's Day Card and when I gave them to her with ham on my breath, she hugged me and started to cry. I asked her why. She said nobody had ever given her flowers on Mother's Day before. Being stupid-like, I said "But you have four kids and you're 100 years old". That snapped her back. The night before, Becky got a call from Renee, and when Becky was talking on the IPhone, all I could here is what sounded like geese cackling (saying something about ghoulash). On Friday night, Becky got another call and it sounded like geese cackling again, so I assumed it was from Renee. This time it was from Jennifer. She was all high on life and I'd swear if she had rockets in her heart, she'd already be past Pluto. Jennifer put on GMa, and she was all high on life. During that call, a florist delivered her Mother's Day Flowers. Now here's the kicker. A voice in the background sounded just like Ruth. It had that strong Mississippi drawl. She was a friend of GMa's. Friday was a very good night.
Oh, Becky got some new gradient transitional lensed glasses. They were the best lenses available from Walmart, and I realized I would be taking a gamble (it would probably be the first time Becky had ever seen me clearly). I worried about having to explain to her that my hair wasn't really fuzzy. She cried when I bought them. hmmm.  Coming home, I decided to take I76 to I79,  but I76 didn't have an exit for I79. Matter of fact, it didn't have any exits for 30 miles so we decided to go to Cleveland. But I had second thoughts when I realized I had YooHoo from an exploding can all over me. I was so sticky. Instead we went to Beaver Falls, which is a wasteland of dead mills and factories. From there, we went on to Richland, which consists half of mansions, golf courses, and elegant cemetaries and the other half abandoned houses, shops and greenhouses. We stopped at this little pub name "Tilts". I'd heard about their bands from a guy at work. The bartender was almost impolite at first (we were outsiders), but after a few small conversations, she warmed up and started bringing us jumbo shrimp. Becky had the nastiest Slo Gin Fizz on this planet. Being a gentleman, I drank half of it and had the bartender fill it back up with 7-up (what a guy!).
And, that's my long, drawn out, over embellished, never ending, run on story with  colors , for this week, as I see it. ---yawn