Frank Miller's Batman:The Dark Knight in the '80s had an older Batman--Bruce Wayne had stopped for ten years, but was compelled to take up the mantle again. This Batman was different. He didn't have the time for niceties anymore--life was too short. His methods were more direct, less subtle--some said more abrasive. He was even more controversial than before, because he couldn't afford to take the smooth route anymore--things were too important and time was too precious. Still a hero, but reality altered his methods of operation.

I kinda think that's a bit like Dave Winer since his heart op last year. It's none of my business really, but he seems like he doesn't have the time to spend being "noble" while BOGU, as he puts it. It seems like life's just too short not to tell it like it is. That's not a bad thing, but it does seem to make him more of a lightning rod for attacks, which is sad.

I just seem to get this impression from reading Scripting News over the last couple of years. I could certainly be wrong--my wife might tell you that being wrong is my strongest trait. :-)

I had dinner Saturday night at McCormick & Schmick's. Highly recommended, although it's high teens to low twenties per entree. After that fine seafood, the dinner Sunday night at another restaurant was distinctively less tasty.

I saw The Matrix:Reloaded last night--I was prepared by my brother to pay close attention, so I got a lot out of it. It was awesome, but then I like character and metaphysics-driven movies more than anyone I know. I'd meant to see the movie Saturday night, but my brain made me finish the new Harry Potter book I'd started on the plane that morning. I'm still very much a slave to reading--877 pages in one day.

After the movie last night, I walked outside and looked up Pine Street to see police lights flashing. I walked up the street to find three police cars and a paddywagon, and three cars in a post-crash scenario. Why so many police? Apparently the woman who caused the crash was wildly driving and then got out of the car and tried to get away. When someone tried to take her keys from her, she started raving and trying to attack people. the police arrested her, "strapped her to a board" and took her away.

I love the city.

Tangent: when Brad, Mike, Joe, and I were in New York City a couple of years ago, we saw a fourth floor air conditioner fall out of its window and crash onto the sidewalk, narrowly missing hordes of passersby. We could have sworn someone was hit and seriously hurt (the crowd was that thick), but when the dust cleared, no one was lying there. The air conditioner actually bounced and tumbled into the gutter--it had that much ft/sec squared force.

In light of the last few years, President Bush has a very fine line to walk regarding America's leadership in the world amid charges of empire-building. The Seattle Times had a good editorial this morning about this balancing act from a former official in the Reagan administration.

Want to stop a chunk of your telemarketer calls? Go to the donotcall.gov website to sign up. Well worth it.

This is a federal site. There's a Pennsylvania equivalent that cut my sales calls to virtually nil, but I forget the web site at the moment.

(I'm trying to keep these travelogue items light to avoid weighing down the blog to unreadability--I don't want to "Bill-ify" it, to name the first but not only person to notice the phenomenon)

I got to Dad's place at midnight, and got up at six for my flight. To get the best fare, my trip out to Seattle went to Las Vegas for its connection--go figure. America West was good, but not serving us a meal on either flight was a ripoff (two beverage services does not compensate). I guess fare wars have killed meals for most airlines.

Almost six hours later, we landed in the Las Vegas airport. It was strange, seeing nothing for miles, and then houses and a city in the middle of nowhere. In the airport, they really did have slot machines in the terminal, something I'd joked about the day before. I belatedly realized that my friend Fran lived right in town somewhere, but my layover was only forty minutes, so I just silently toasted him with my Diet Coke...

As we flew out of Las Vegas to Seattle, I saw brown desert and mountains as far as the horizon, broken only by small threads of long white road far apart.

After my flight to Seattle, I moved down to baggage claim. On my way down the escalator it gave a great lurch and crash, and pitched us all forward as it stopped dead. It never started up again. Bad omen? I don't believe in them, but it was pretty weird.

On the bus into the city, we saw the cruise ship Star Princess at dock. I've never seen a ship that big. It looked like a twelve story high rise building turned on its side and floated in the water.

More tomorrow...

We went to the Forum in Harrisburg to see Alyssa's dance recital tonight. She was great and she had a great time. It was her first (she's five), and I was definitely reminded of a certain sister of mine's recital of, um, just a few years ago. :-)

If you've never been to The Forum by the way, it's a pretty cool place. It's a large, round Greek building next to the State Capitol building. The ceiling is painted like the Sistine Chapel with all the constellations in their Greek forms, with lit five-pointed stars all over. I got to ask Drew "Where's the crab? Where's the bear?" and others. He loved it.

Unfortunately, the show was so long that I had to leave at intermission. Alyssa was finished dancing, but it would've been nice to see the whole thing--she stayed with Mommy and Drew for the rest of the show.

But I left for Philly and a plane to Seattle in the morning.

Yesterday we reconfigured every school for new IP addresses for Internet traffic. We had to touch every router, every printer, and a few machines. The amazing thing was that we did it in a few hours, and it worked. We left yesterday breathing a sigh of relief.

Then I came in this morning. The first thing I noticed was that the map on my network mapping computer was blinking red. I'd lost two elementary schools. Great. Why did my network break?

One school relayed its signal to us through the other, so I figured that the problem might lie with the relaying school. I drove down to check, and called our secretary to let her know what's up. "Oh," she says, "I wonder if it's the snake." The snake?

Yep. Apparently a huge snake fell on the power lines outside the school and blew a few breakers inside the school. By the time I got down there, the electrician had fixed the breakers. I rebooted the router and we were in business.

I never saw the snake. I don't know who disposed of it. Just when you thought you'd seen it all...

My time is more limited nowadays, but it was nice to change the front brakes myself on my Legacy today. 195,695 miles and still going strong. They wanted $75 to replace brakes that cost me $19 at the parts store.

Of course, one of the front wheel lug nuts partially stripped as I took it off. I've never seen anything like it. Nothing can ever be simple with me.

But WD40 is my friend--it helped get the nut off, and the nut managed to rechase the threads when I bolted it back on. So it's OK for now.

My bigger concern is why the two small bolts that screw the front discs/rotors onto the wheel are missing on both sides. I've been driving this way for 30,000 miles, so I don't think that my wheels will fall off tomorrow, but I do plan to ask Larry about it when I take it in to him for inspection on Friday.

Once in 1983 (if I recall correctly), Bill Brownlowe and Elaine Zaleski were driving Irene Zaleski's Vega up to the Poconos (where we were all camping) and the wheel started acting funny. They pulled off the turnpike's Northeast Extension into a plaza and jacked the car up. The wheel fell off.

Yep, I've got a tangential story for just about everything--it's just my way. I just hope that doesn't happen to the Legacy.

On the way back from Ohio Saturday, Joe and I decided to swing by Penn State (my alma mater), since we'd just visited Kent State (Joe's alma mater).

After a drawn-out search for dinner (my fault--I always have to explore every option) and a side trip to Eastern Outfitters, we decided to stop by The Phyrst. The Phyrst is a local bar at Penn State with extremely good vibes (I did meet my wife there on Saint Patty's Day in 1988, after all). It's in a basement on Beaver Avenue near Allen Street, if you ever get up there.

The bar (the literal bar inside the Phyrst) had been torn out and replaced with one along the wall last summer, but otherwise it was the same place I remembered. We settled in and relaxed. The place gradually filled up with people and a pleasant hum of noise permeated the room. It was relaxing, calming, almost soothing.

Until the voices suddenly thundered out from one of the tables:

"WE ARE TABLE NUMBER THREE! NUMBER THREE! NUMBER THREE! WE ARE TABLE NUMBER THREE! WHERE THE H#$L IS TABLE FIVE!"

Table Five's answer was even louder. I'd forgotten about the "interactive" aspect of the Phyrst. Perhaps relaxed and calm weren't the words I was looking for.

But it was a lot of fun. The Phyrst Phamily took the stage at ten and the traditional singalong began. Good times...look for yourself.

I saw another story about the end of production for the original VW Beetle.

Now if only they can get the new Microbus out the door...

It's true--Neil Gaiman has collaborated with a number of artists to produce a 160 page hardcover story about the Endless--the Sandman and his siblings Destiny, Death, Destruction, Desire, Despair, and Delirum/Delight. This is big news. The original Sandman series was praised by Clive Barker, Stephen King, Harlan Ellison, Dean Koontz, and Norman Mailer, among others.

You can read more about Neil here. The book comes out in September and should have a cover price of $24.95.

I saw The Hulk today with Joe and Dad. I seemed to be the only one who liked it, to put it mildly. Perhaps it's that I had expected a much worse movie.

Also though, I think it's because I had no expectation that the movie would maintain any allegiance to the comic book storyline. I had a strong feeling that Ang Lee would make a movie based on the themes of the Hulk, and I was actually surprised that I saw as much of the comic in the movie as I did today.

You can find a good review of the movie that mirrors my reaction at this page. You can find another at this site--this review is by Peter David, who wrote the Hulk comic book for years and wrote the novelization of the new movie.

After traveling over 700 miles to Kent State, Penn State, and a number of places in between. And we haven't been arrested.

We honor the Eleventh Commandment and keep it Wholly.

:-)

Brad says on Truetech that Simon and Garfunkel may be getting back together for a reunion tour.

I have a hard time believing that this will come together, knowing the past attempted failures. However, I'll be first in line if this actually happens. Even to hear a 60 year old Garfunkel voice.

One of my few regrets is not going to Central Park to hear Simon and Garfunkel play their reunion concert in 1981. It was the day before I left for college in Florida and my mother felt that I should pack. I should have thrown things in my bags and then booked like mad for NYC--I only lived two and a half hours away. Oh well. I have the CD, right?

Right.

Nothing made me miss their reunion tour in 1983, though. We drove up the Jersey Turnpike (counting the cars, of course) to Giants Stadium up near NYC. It was awesome. At that point, Paul Simon was going to name his Hearts and Bones album Allergies and he played us "The Late Great Johnny Ace" and "Allergies" for one of the first times in public.

Updates have been light in the last week, and my brother Joe is here from Guam now, so the next few days will be light as well.

So all I can offer now are promises--but what promises they are! I will strive to get some killer war stories to grab you and not let go.

First up to bat in a few days--Joe and chocolate cake. Doesn't sound very exciting, does it? Well, Joe made a chocolate cake like no other you've ever heard of.

But you will.

At least, after Joe and I get back from Kent State on Sunday. Assuming we don't get arrested. Be concerned. Be very concerned.

I'm not the only one noticing that the Hulk is waaaay overmerchandised. I've seen the Hulk on everything from pudding to candy to more. The pudding was at least green--the candy was simply bagged Hershey's minibars with a picture of the Hulk on the bag. Try explaining that to a four year old who wants everything "Hulk."

Check out a site that details this even more throroughly than I do.

I missed Saturday and Sunday postings. On Saturday I drove down to Philly to see my brother Joe--he's in from Guam to visit us, and he's in Philly until Wednesday. It's difficult to articulate, but on Saturday I was treated to a full and joyful day of true Mancuso family life, from family bantering to Joe's amazing demonstration of persuasion, intimidation, and sheer force of will to attain a five dollar discount on a DVD player (we were right, they were wrong, they gave us the five bucks off).

On Sunday we spent an exhausting but fun day with friends, the Stiles and the Williams families. I had a great time with each, and I just wish we could have spent more time with each of them (these were mutually exclusive activities). Joe and Laura Stiles' little daughter was christened early in the morning, and things went flawlessly. I really enjoyed the church, and it was fun to let the Mass responses flow out of me almost subconsciously. There are little things that I forget about Catholicism, skills I never use as a Methodist, like the practiced flip of the foot to fold out the pew kneelers. Of course, my wife couldn't follow the ceremony at all, so I had to squelch my push to convert back to Catholicism...

The picnic afterwards was a lot of fun--one of the last times we'll see the Stiles up here--they're moving away soon (no Brad, not because of me--I think). I have a feeling that we'll stay in touch, though, and not just because of the awesome pizzelles that Joe had at the picnic. Actuallly, the pizzelles disturbed me greatly--they caused me to blow my diet big time. Eight times, in fact--I think I made a huge dent in the pizzelle supply there. Terrible, terrible.

We had to cut short the picnic to get to Mike's surprise birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese. It was great to see Mike and the family, and the kids had a great time. Unfortunately, this place uncovered my wife's shocking addiction to Skee Ball. Don't worry, I'm looking for help for her. I really think that if she had unlimited tokens that she'd still be there now, rolling the balls.

I'm using as one of my web browsers the program Safari (I use 5 browsers regularly--Internet Explorer, Safari, Mozilla, Camino, and Firebird). Unfortunately, several internal company builds of the Safari beta software have leaked out into the Internet. Dave Hyatt on his Safari weblog has asked that people not comment on the leaked builds, and people have in some cases reacted with hostility.

Personally, I'm surprised that Dave hasn't been under pressure from his employers to yank this blog. I'm glad it's here, but I don't consider Dave under any obligation whatsoever to keep it up and running. I think that fact that it's up at all is a tribute to openmindedness in the face of real world politics. Apple's trade secrets are one of the only weapons it has to survive and prosper--I would expect no less of them than to enforce it vigorously. For anyone to expect anything else is naive at best.

Back on Memorial Day, we had a picnic with relatives. We offered my father in law a hot dog with sauerkraut. He looked at it and said "A dog with a skirt? Sure thing."

I'm not extremely well-traveled, but still, I've never heard this one before. I wonder if it's a PA Dutch term or just one I've missed?

At least I haven't told my kids to "red up your room" yet (this apparently means "ready up your room" or make it ready, if I have my PA Dutch translation correct). I'm from Philly, where we drink glasses of "wood-er."

And Mike, you can call it "Filthydelphia" all you want. They still make hoagies and cheese steaks that'll kick your hometown's sorry tail all over the place.

:-)

Wow. President Bush fell off a Segway. That's amazing. The thing is virtually impossble to fall from--it anticipates your movements and leanings with several gyroscopes. His name is George Bush, not Gerald Ford...

He got right back on though, and then cruised around successfully with George Bush, Sr. on another Segway. Two Segways to ride around. I'm jealous.

I guess sometimes it's good to be the king.

The second DVD that will come out for The Two Towers will have extra scenes that bring it to over 3.5 hours of running time.

The movie cut version of The Two Towers will be released in DVD on my birthday (August 26), but I'm holding out for the extended edition--it will be released in November. It looks like they have some pretty cool extended scenes. They even promise to explain why they trashed the character of Faramir so awfully (in my opinion, anyway--he was a much more noble and wise character in the book).

Amazing--look at this 360 degree set of view of Parma. (You'll need Quicktime to do it for Mac or Windows, but it's worth it. Oh, you'll probably want a fast Internet connection too).

This one's mostly for my dad, who works with a cool airline carrier who owns a brand new fleet of 737s. The guy at this site is making a full replica of a 737 cockpit, complete with original components. Wow. I could never put even a plastic model together without using too much glue. What's next, the rest of the plane?

This one is great--I laughed all the way through the page. It's a joke send-up about the Nigerian email scam. Brad showed it to me this morning and he's posted it on his site.

Alyssa may have to rethink her review of Finding Nemo. An AP news story talks about how fish who are flushed don't actually make it to the ocean--they get chlorinated and shredded by powerful machines. Man, they don't even make it as fish sticks. Thanks to Metafilter for the link.

There's a good review of blog post writing clients at MadCow Studios and Frequency shows up as the strong favorite.

I can't wait until the next version comes out.

It looks like they won't be making the VW Beetle any more--not the New Beetle, but the air-cooled classic that's been around for fifty years. Yep, they were still making it in other countries. Thanks to Metafilter for the story; you can check it out here.

Well, it's time (and probably far past time) to wrap up Denny's week. I've only touched the tip of the iceberg, but the other stories will have to appear sometime in the future (including the one where I was run down by a car--luckily I went over it instead of under it). Thanks for listening (or reading, as the case may be).

Working at Denny's during graveyard shift means that you sleep from 8:00 am to 4:00pm, if you're lucky. Sleeping becomes a desperately craved yet torturously elusive concept.

You pull down the shades. You close the door. You even try one of those weird sleeping masks. You isolate yourself in every way possible.

Then the world makes itself known to you.

Do you know how many lawns are loudly mowed daily, even on weekdays? Do you know how many children scream happily in play? Do you know how many street construction repairs go on outside your window while you're trying desperately to sleep? I am not making this up--I'm talking jackhammers not thirty feet from me going on for hours.

And then the phone. You could take it off the hook, but what if it's an emergency, or work needs to call you? Eventually you do take it off the hook, but not before sanity has lost it grip on you. I used to answer the phone in my sleep and agree to work shifts without a single conscious thought. I would vaguely remember the call when I woke up, and I'd have to call in to work to see if I'd really talked to someone and what I'd agreed to.

I learned at Denny's that human beings aren't meant to work graveyard shift. I don't think anyone at work in the present knows how much I savor each and every day--how truly precious it is to work a weekday job with weekends off. I came away from Denny's firmly believing that businesses should be closed late at night--it's just not a fit life for anyone. This is a hard thing to say, especially for me, but just because we can do something doesn't mean that we should.

Working at Denny's means everyone deciding to go out after our shift to have a drink or two, and rolling out of the restaurant after our side work is finished to find a local bar that's open. This is a tougher task than you might think, because you're working graveyard shift and "after work" is 7:30 in the morning.

Sadly enough, there are establishments open to serve liquor that early, and we tended to congregate at the Secane Station tavern by 8:00 am when we went out.

I can tell you from experience that a drink hits you harder at 8:00 am regardless of the shift you're working.

The Webby Awards are the annual recognition awards for websites. This year's nominees and winners can be found here.

Working at Denny's means reporting to work for an 11pm to 7am graveyard shift just as Live Aid in Philly at JFK stadium lets out, and knowing that all the people flooding out of Philly will go to your Denny's and swamp you for 8 hours, steamrollering you flat with sheer numbers until you cry for your mommy.

It was truly a night of hell. What sucks even worse is that I got a speeding ticket coming to work that night from State College, PA, trying to get back to Philly in time to get slaughtered by the aforementioned Live Aid customers. Definitely a strong candidate for the nadir of my restaurant career (but not the winner, believe it or not).

When I was at Denny's in City Line (yep--another one from there--do you begin to see why we called it City 'Nam?) our district manager made a huge push to "restart" the unit. He hired a fifth manager to staff the place and we hired a slew of employees. We had a huge amount of training going on. We knew that a number of people would drop by the wayside in time, but we didn't know who.

We had a huge meeting with all the employees in the back room with the district manager (Ed Grocholski) and the general manager, my boss Jim Mendez. They began a talk about new beginnings, and then Jim launched into an explanation that things had changed. Expectations were high. People had the chance to succeed or fail. He finished by summarizing his views: "If you don't make it, I won't fire you. You'll fire yourself."

Then Grocholski got up. "I want to contrast a point Jim made. He said he wouldn't fire you, you'd fire yourselves. I'll be even more clear. I wouldn't hesitate to fire any one of you at any time. Got it? Good." Silence. Everyone was in shock.

Maybe you had to be there, but it still makes me chuckle. Jim made sense, but Grocholski was dead on and taking no prisoners. Events proved him right, too. I had to fire a bunch of those people later, earning me the dubious nickname "The Terminator." Hey, I'm not hard to get along with, but when you pull stuff like the grandmother/girfriend calling out sick for you, you tend to have a problem with me. Grocholski taught me that management isn't personal--it's whatever the business requires of you.

I've never actually played MASH, but Mena Trott (the cofounder of Movable Type, the amazing weblogging system you're reading right now) put a version up on the web--just click here to try it out. I haven't had the chance to try it out myself, but maybe tomorrow...

Managing Denny's at City Line meant designing a beautiful and vibrant chart to track the number of grandparents and relatives who died for each employee within a two month period. You'd be surprised how many grandparents some of my employees had, and how many of them passed away suddenly, necessitating a bereavement day minutes before (or after) someone's shift started. A word to the wise: it's unusual to have all seven of your grandparents pass away within six weeks of each other.

Also, don't have your grandmother call you out sick if your grandmother sounds amazingly like your 17 year old girlfriend. If you do, expect me to thank her and let her know that if you don't report to work within 20 minutes, don't expect to have a job to return to. Hypothetically speaking, of course.

Managing Denny's means coming into the unit at 7:00am and finding a potato in the back of the employee break room with a hole drilled deep into one end that meets a second hole drilled into the side. The side hole contains a piece of tin foil fashioned into a bowl-shaped filter with pinpoint holes, making the potato into--yes, you guessed it--an elaborate and stylish pipe.

Something tells me that this masterpiece of innovation was not created solely for tobacco use. If only they'd put as much innovation into the job they were hired for (sigh).

Managing Denny's means you can make beautiful, elaborate, colorful charts to track the cash register shortages and see who's stealing from the till. You post it in a highly visual place, and it always narrows down to three or so people within a few days. Then the stealing magically stops before it narrows down to one lucky winner.

A true Denny's moment: Going into the walk-in refrigerator to pull out your last case of Reddi-Wip spray dessert topping, only to find that all 24 cans are dead. Your busboys have been doing "whippits" with the nitrous oxide in the cans again (if only you could prove it) and you're now completely out.

It seems like my mind wants to purge this stuff. The more I write about Denny's, the more I think of. I'll try to restrain myself somewhat.

In 1988 (if I remember the year properly), Denny's closed for Christmas for the first time. I was back at Denny's in Clifton Heights, and we began to be a bit worried. We didn't know if we could actually lock up, since no one seemed to remember where a key to the front door might be. The restaurant had been continuously open, 24 hours per day, 365 days per year, with someone always there since 8 years before on November 5, 1980.

Someone resolved the situation. Either they found the key or they brought in a locksmith (I can't remember). We managed to close on Christmas Day, angering hundreds of people who for some reason wanted to go out to a restaurant for dinner that day.

Some Denny's facts lodged in my head--location, unit number, model, and phone number (sad, isn't it--I've been gone from there since 1989, so these brain cells are just wasted at this point):

I worked in every one of these restaurants except WestChester (Bensalem for only one week, and Langhorne for only two nights--I subbed for short-staffed management teams). The 109 and 149 refer to the number of people the unit was designed to seat at one time. The Series '81 did really have a beautiful kitchen, and I wish today's TJ Rockwell's here in town had one with a tenth the capacity--their food is great but their kitchen runs at a snail's pace sometimes.

At least I'm slowly forgetting the phone numbers.

Here's a quick Denny's story for you from 1986. When I was at City Line, I broke up a knife fight--an incredibly stupid thing to do. Two guys were getting into a fight (at Table 306, if I remember correctly). I came over to keep an eye on them, when they began to get violent. One guy took the knife and got up to apparently use it on the other guy. I ran over and talked him out of it. Actually, if I remember correctly, I asked him to take it out somewhere else if they were really that upset. But I said a couple of other things too, and they settled down and eventually left. I didn't read about them in the papers, so I think things resolved without violence. Yep--it was pretty stupid of me.

But it was pretty stupid of the knife guy, too. The knife he picked up to use was a serrated Denny's steak knife. What was he going to do, saw the other guy to death?

My brother Joe has come back to the states to visit from his home in Guam. He flew from Guam to Seattle on Thursday, and tonight is winging his way to Florida to visit with my mom and my sister.

Joe stayed in Seattle for a couple of days, renting a car and driving around to see some friends (he lived there for a bit before moving to Guam in 1991). I asked Joe what car he rented out of idle curiosity. "I'm driving a Ford Explorer" he replied.

"An Explorer? Wow--how'd you get that?"

"Well, I had an economy, but they upgraded me for free."

Only my brother Joe could make these things happen. You know, maybe it's just people named Joe who have all the luck (right, Joe Way?).      :-)

Here's a pic of Joe from his trip to Europe with Mom two years ago, by the way:

My wife Denise isn't always too keen on "this 'blogging' thing" of mine (I tend to spend a lot of time on the computer), and she's not super-enthusiastic about my dragging her into "print" on this site very often.

Having said that, it was really cool to go down with the kids and see her playing saxophone with a local concert band tonight. Good music.

On Friday, we went to the drive-in to see Finding Nemo. It was good--not as good as say, Toy Story, but not bad. After all, how many times in one movie can you see fish threatened with being almost eaten?

Alyssa watched the entire movie until 11:00pm (and then stayed up past 1:00am to see Daddy Day Care--pretty amazing for her age). On the way home, Alyssa was quiet but alert. She seemed deep in thought. We asked her how she liked the movie. She remained silent, deep in reflection.

Several minutes later, she announced her sum and total reaction to Finding Nemo with all the thoughtful analysis of a five year old.

"You mean my wee-wee goes down into the ocean?!?"