Looking for a male-to-male SVGA cable

I am a geek.

Whew. I feel a lot better getting that off my chest.

I spent my Sunday wandering through the aisles of the Lucas County Recreation Center looking for a monitor switch and a male-to-male SVGA cable. Those were parts I'd convinced myself I needed so I could really get into my hobby of taking apart old computers and salvaging the good parts. The trouble generally is you end up having several boxes open at the same time and hate swapping the monitor from one to the other.

I warned you I was a geek.

It's an interesting experience, though, walking through the aisles at a Ham Fest, named as such because a ham radio club sponsored it. My dad genuinely wanted to look at the ham radio stuff, and I preferred looking at the computer parts.

Here's the point to make from this experience: You don't have any junk. You only have things that someone else might want. It was amusing to see all these old parts I'd long since thrown out laying on people's tables, hoping someone would pay $2 for an old 586 processor chip or $1 for a gender-changing DB25 gadget.

I really did warn you I was a geek.

Just to clear up that gender-changing thing, and also the title of this entry... You can't say electronics folks don't have an imagination. Think of a cable that hooks to your computer. One half has the pins that stick out. That's the male side. Then think of where it plugs into. That's the female side. Those wild, wacky engineers...

Ice Classic 2005!

I looked out on the ice and leaned to the guy next to me, saying, "I won't tell anyone you were here if you don't tell anyone I was here."

That's the short version of how I'd describe Ice Classic 2005, a skating show I witnessed Friday with people I know who I won't identify because of the above-stated agreement. (I'm backdating this entry.) The theme of this was "On the Town," where they pretended to go to different venues in a city that must not have been Findlay, given the salsa club, ballet and the paparazi they described.

There are many things that would probably be cool if you bring your children. This would probably be one of them. Like many uncommon experiences, it was interesting for about an hour. As someone who can't even roller skate without planting myself into a tree, you must marvel at the grace of young people who can do so many incredible things.

I'm not a parent, though, and before long I turned into that annoying guy who makes wisecracks about everything I see.

Two things were genuinely entertaining: They had this professional guy who realized ice skating could be funny. So he dressed up like Cartman from South Park and sang along as Cartman performed "Sailing." Hilarious. Later in the show, he did a pretty amusing routine based on Richard Simmons' "Sweating to the Oldies." Also amusing.

There are other things that were funny that probably weren't to those involved. Kids falling on the ice shouldn't be hilarious. I'll submit this, though: If you're going to charge me $8 to show off how well you can stay upright, I reserve the right to laugh when you can't.

The greatest of these mishaps came during the ballet portion, when they performed an abbreviated "Sleeping Beauty." The king and queen laid Sleeping Beauty to rest on a bench near the curtain. A little later, the girl playing the fairy tried skating backwards toward the exit, falling over the bench and the beauty. They quickly moved the bench and Sleeping Beauty about three feet to the side so it wouldn't happen again.

I like to find morals to the story in any life situation, so here's the one I discovered: Be sure to look where you're going. You never know when there might be a princess under a sleeping spell near the exit.

Finding your way

The snow began piling up on the road again tonight, challenging the drivers to do their best to stay on the right path.

A funny trend happens when the heavy downfall is fresh, before a plow can come by to show the way. Each person follows the tracks set forth ahead of them, hopeful they lead to the destination. Each person prays the person in front knows where to go and how to get there, even though the odds are just as good they could lead you into a ditch.

Every so often, I like to look up from the path set before me and look at my guides. While you drive, you can see the mailboxes on the side of the rural roads, reminding you where the road should take you. Often you'll think you're safely in your own lane, doing what you must do, when you'll look up at the mailboxes and realize you're dangerously close to straying left of center.

How often do we all do this in our lives? How often do we stare at the path ahead of us and blindly follow it without thinking about where it goes or who put it there before us? How often do we look up to our guideposts on either side to remind ourselves to stay centered?

Must be doing something right

A couple days ago, I got off the phone at work with someone who wasn't too happy about some of the reporting I've been doing lately. This whole CIC thing has some people pretty worked up. This guy told me I'd better be careful, since people (including him) were looking for reasons to get me fired.

About five minutes later, our editor walked back to my desk and congratulated me on the job I've been doing. He told me he'll be putting a bonus in my paycheck and to keep up the good work.

A day later, I spent about 10 minutes on the phone with a man who told me I was "a great American and a patriot" for these same stories that the other guy told me I should be fired for writing.

I figure you must be doing something right when you can elicit that strong of feelings from both sides on any issue. Really it's the best compliment a journalist can get.

Another way of looking at it came from a source, who hasn't been too thrilled with some of the things I've written lately. He told me the other day, "I don't like what you've been writing, but it's always been accurate and unbiased. So I have to give you that much."

I had some concerns when I got out of sports and back into news that I might not be able to do the "hard" stories. Apparently I worried for nothing. Now I'll just have to see if I can keep my job long enough to do something that matters...

Just to clarify: I'm not worried about losing my job. I'm mostly flattered that my ability to uncover some level of truth is enough to make people wish I'd go away. My boss asked me to document these "threats," just in case, but I'll just tuck them away as backhanded compliments instead.