Not much going on. I did take my FCC General Radiotelephone Operator's License test on Thursday. A tip: the name of the mechanically rotatable variable RF transformer device of a Very High Frequency Omnidirectional Range (VOR) station that is used to generate the amplitude modulated variable phase signal used in aircraft navigation is a goniometer. Not a gorgonzolameter, which is what was highlighted as the correct answer in one of the study guides we used.
Clearly, the gorgonzolameter is far beyond our earthly technology, and not part of the terrestrial purview of the FCC. I imagine it works somewhat like a nose, but with more beeping. And acronyms.

Last night:
Fun times with B- and J-, this summer's must-see duo. And Mel and I are responsible for their meeting! What is is about matchmaking that is so satisfactory? Also, finally decided, once and for all, that the best thirst-quenching summertime brew is PBR. No further research or discussion is required. This hangover is a mother, though.
One note- if you are playing acoustic instruments, then there is no need to amplify them to glass-shattering levels. Especially in a smallish bar with an audience of approximately three people. I mean, if the fucking Who was in there, playing My Generation at stratospheric decibel levels, well, that's one thing. But you, sir, are no Pete Townshend. And no one should have blood coming out of their ears after a rendition of Michael Rowed the Boat Ashore.

He stood on the shoulders of other great engineers of his homeland. Men like James Watt, John McAdam, and James Dewar. He attended the Academy, but left midway to find his true calling, and after a few brief stints on lesser vessels, became Chief Engineer on the most distinguished ship in the fleet...NCC-1701.
I always knew Scotty was the baddest ass on the ship. I could tell he was my father's favorite, too, and as shared admirations go, we could have done worse. Sure, Kirk got to boss everyone around and always got the alien poontang. Sure, Spock was probably smarter, Sulu got to drive, Checkhov got to shoot, and Bones....well, Bones didn't really have anything cool to do. But these guys were all lightweights. Monty Scott could pull warp 9.5 out of the cores designed for a measly warp 8. Scotty could drink 'em all under the table. Jefferies tube clogged? Scotty is on the motherfucker. Eight to beam up, you say? And you're under fire and can't hold still? This kilt-wearing bastard has got that shit.
Really, who else would you want on your away team? Sulu? Please.
So, this man, who had a small but definite impact on my choice of career, is gone. Maybe there is an Elysian Fields somewhere for engineers and mechanics, and if there is, I hope he's there. He will be missed.
James Doohan 1920-2005

I don't know which is worse- wanting to eat because I'm bored, or being too lazy to go out and get some damn food.
I am a lost cause.

If the Northwest Airlines mechanics strike, they'll be crushed. This will probably be the end of organized labor as a force in the airline industry. I mean, the company already has scabs on the payroll. And, if that's not enough, there are plenty of mechanics from Delta and United that have been laid off, are consequently disgusted with unions, and will cross that picket line without looking over their shoulders.
My father is supposed to retire in November. He is possibly the unluckiest man I've ever met.

Last night: a jaunt with someone I didn't know very well to a place I've never been. Vague enough? The person is a friend of my significant other, who I was charged with entertaining while Her Majesty planned her forthcoming Trip to Europe. The place was the "Laughing Lizard Lounge" in Alexandria. It was like a speakeasy. They hadn't done much to strip the place of its essential "house-ness", so it was kind of like playing pool and drinking at a frat party, although with only a fraction of the hysterical sorority girls on hand.
Also, they had PBR. So today I'm hung over.

After a year at this job, I've realized that there are two speeds, slow and utter chaos. Since I'm wasting time here, guess which one tonight was. I just woke up from my nap.
I love this job.
Unfortunately, with all the free time, I tend to get involved in side projects. Like this evening, when I determined that at my current level of retirement contribution, with a desired retirement income of 70k, I can retire in 82 years. On the plus side, I'm sure that the Social Security retirement age will be set at 110 by then, so I'll only have a year to wait.