You might think that Nebraska was playing the Cornhuskers today so much damage did the team do to itself, but you would be wrong. Texas beat Nebraska as well, and the officiating crew did its part to help.
Of course when 'your' team loses, it seems that all close calls go against your side, but one catch ruled as out-of-bounds did prove to be a blown call. Unfortunately, that one catch was one of the few that Nebraska receivers could hang onto this afternoon. The Nebraska Stonehanders gave away 8 dropped passes, no less than 4 of which could have been touchdown catches. This is one that not only got away, but was given away wholesale.
Texas played a great game and probably should be ranked in the top 25 again in this week's polls. Nebraska will fall quite a ways down in the polls as the team proved quite unable to sustain its number 5 ranking. A Cornhusker team chant of "We're unworthy!" might be appropriate as the losing was a team effort all the way. Fumbles continue to plague the team, along with the dropped passes, which might point to an all-around stone hands problem team wide. On a 5° day that might be understandable, but the weather laid out a fine football climate in Lincoln on this day. The Nebraska Cornhuskers simply blew it.
As an armchair coach and analyst, I naturally have all of the answers. As my old frosh team football coaches would be glad to tell you: It's because the Nebraska team played just like I used to...poorly.
Bucky
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Wednesday, July 07, 2010
Corporameia, the Land of Corporate Silliness
I will be out of the office today and returning someday. Just kidding, my office is in my home, so I am not out of it very much… except for when I am just plain “out of it” as they say. An errant out of the office message from a friend serving his time in Corporameia brought back memories of my days in that land of corporate silliness.
Back in the day, we had to send the ubiquitous Out of the Office or OOTO message every time we left the corporate headquarters to work in another location, or simply to be out of the office for vacation or illness or even feigned death. To my knowledge, I was the first one in our company to use the acronym, OOTO, to save typing time. That little grape is one that should never have rolled out of the wine press. Had I realized the ugly little raisin that misplaced grape would become, I would have tossed it back in to be smashed.
As with all well-intentioned, but ill-advised acronyms, this one grew completely out of hand, or OOH, you might say to save words. Little OOTO soon unleashed the cruel and twisted creative spirit of acronymitis within the company. Out of the Office messages with OOO for Out of Office; OOT for Out of Town, OFTD for Out for the Day, and even OOFSA for Out of freakin’ stupid Acronyms began to circulate in a perfect maelstrom of acronym inflation. Now in most cases the resulting stream, or is that scream, of creativity would be fun to watch. But the lowly OOTO message became automated.
As the company progressed through the various software packages such as Groupwise and Outlook, the ability to place an automatic OOTO response on every incoming message turned the monster loose. While it became one of those corporate requirements from on high to have an automatic OOTO response, no one thought of what might happen if a few people all left for a conference at the same time. All that was needed was one innocent message to one of the absent group, and a whirlwind of automatic OOTO responses would bounce endlessly between e-mail accounts until the server shutdown or all inboxes were filled.
To combat this menace of OOTO reproduction, the e-mail recipients would create Out of the Office folders and rules to place all incoming OOTO messages safely away from any useful notice. As the department grew to an unwieldy size as with many corporate IT departments, the OOTO folders came to be checked less and less. Soon, bosses could be found wandering the halls of Corporameia, that land of corporate silliness many of us have come to find ourselves in, asking such amusing questions as: “Where are all my people?” A corporate Good Samaritan would stop from time to time and ask them, “Have you checked your group’s OOTO folder?” The boss would then retreat to his or her office to wade through the countless OOTO messages to find out that the entire department had scheduled an offsite team-building session to discuss better communication with the boss.
Ah, I’m glad the endless days in Corporameia are behind me now!
Bucky
Back in the day, we had to send the ubiquitous Out of the Office or OOTO message every time we left the corporate headquarters to work in another location, or simply to be out of the office for vacation or illness or even feigned death. To my knowledge, I was the first one in our company to use the acronym, OOTO, to save typing time. That little grape is one that should never have rolled out of the wine press. Had I realized the ugly little raisin that misplaced grape would become, I would have tossed it back in to be smashed.
As with all well-intentioned, but ill-advised acronyms, this one grew completely out of hand, or OOH, you might say to save words. Little OOTO soon unleashed the cruel and twisted creative spirit of acronymitis within the company. Out of the Office messages with OOO for Out of Office; OOT for Out of Town, OFTD for Out for the Day, and even OOFSA for Out of freakin’ stupid Acronyms began to circulate in a perfect maelstrom of acronym inflation. Now in most cases the resulting stream, or is that scream, of creativity would be fun to watch. But the lowly OOTO message became automated.
As the company progressed through the various software packages such as Groupwise and Outlook, the ability to place an automatic OOTO response on every incoming message turned the monster loose. While it became one of those corporate requirements from on high to have an automatic OOTO response, no one thought of what might happen if a few people all left for a conference at the same time. All that was needed was one innocent message to one of the absent group, and a whirlwind of automatic OOTO responses would bounce endlessly between e-mail accounts until the server shutdown or all inboxes were filled.
To combat this menace of OOTO reproduction, the e-mail recipients would create Out of the Office folders and rules to place all incoming OOTO messages safely away from any useful notice. As the department grew to an unwieldy size as with many corporate IT departments, the OOTO folders came to be checked less and less. Soon, bosses could be found wandering the halls of Corporameia, that land of corporate silliness many of us have come to find ourselves in, asking such amusing questions as: “Where are all my people?” A corporate Good Samaritan would stop from time to time and ask them, “Have you checked your group’s OOTO folder?” The boss would then retreat to his or her office to wade through the countless OOTO messages to find out that the entire department had scheduled an offsite team-building session to discuss better communication with the boss.
Ah, I’m glad the endless days in Corporameia are behind me now!
Bucky
Friday, May 07, 2010
The Physical Danger of Writing
My former employer caused my first mid-life crisis by becoming... my former employer. There's nothing quite like the loss of a long held job in your 40's to cause a good, full-blown mid-life crisis. The second crisis came not so much from that sad event, but from what I decided to do with it. Who knew that taking up writing for a living, at least I hope the 'making a living' part starts soon, could be so hard on the body?
After a year and a half of reading, researching and writing, I have got into the wrong shape. The shape of a pear or cantaloupe is generally not considered to be "in shape" for fitness purposes. As the aches and pains of the sedentary lifestyle had started to weigh on me, literally, I figured that I might as well trade them for the aches and pains of starting a workout program. Time to dust off the old Bowflex and exercise bike in the basement!
First discovery: pedaling a stationary bike in my unfinished basement is dreadfully dull; not quite as dull as writer's block is, but pretty dull just the same. The second workout was simply grabbing some old A/V components off the basement shelves and getting something to watch and listen to while pedaling away.
Second discovery: getting past the second workout is a victory. Almost anyone can do that first workout. The couch-potato body is taken by surprise; plenty of energy is available from all the stored carbs; and the most serious ache waits in the future. The next day of course, the invoice from that first workout comes due. Getting out of bed, walking, and other simple tasks become agonizing as the body complains about the unexpected exertion from the day before. That second workout, usually two days later, is the one where you truly get started on the program. Waiting longer than two days runs the risk of having another "first workout" and going through that same agonizing "day after". It is before the second workout that many of us decide to stop the program before it really gets started.
Third discovery: computer games are of dubious value to the body in taking a break from writing. The mind gets a chance to relax, but the body stays in front of the computer in that same ergonomically erroneous position as it does when writing. The cat is of no help in this at all. He sleeps for hours beside the computer monitor, gets up, stretches and takes off at the run. I sit for hours at the computer, get up, try to stretch, and fall over from sitting in one spot too long. My breaks must be frequent and involve some sort of activity. Filling the pet dish or cleaning the litter box are both cat-approved break activities.
Fourth discovery: The cat is of no help in working out in the basement either. The look he gives me is that same blank stare you might give your brother if he were to park his brand new Ford Fiesta* in the monkey cage at the zoo... and walk away leaving the doors open. If I had six cats, I could only imagine them calling to each other,
"Hey Felix, come check this out! Our liter box maintenance staff is pedaling for all he's worth and getting nowhere at all!"
"Why do you suppose he does that, Mort?"
"Dunno, but I think we need to stare at him until he stops."
Cats, I've noticed, feel no social pressure to workout or stay in shape, but are fascinated by my efforts for as long as it takes me to workout, or about fifteen minutes at my present fitness level.
Bucky
*Ford Fiesta chosen at random for its alliterative value. Not a shameless plug to get a giant corporation to sponsor my blog!
After a year and a half of reading, researching and writing, I have got into the wrong shape. The shape of a pear or cantaloupe is generally not considered to be "in shape" for fitness purposes. As the aches and pains of the sedentary lifestyle had started to weigh on me, literally, I figured that I might as well trade them for the aches and pains of starting a workout program. Time to dust off the old Bowflex and exercise bike in the basement!
First discovery: pedaling a stationary bike in my unfinished basement is dreadfully dull; not quite as dull as writer's block is, but pretty dull just the same. The second workout was simply grabbing some old A/V components off the basement shelves and getting something to watch and listen to while pedaling away.
Second discovery: getting past the second workout is a victory. Almost anyone can do that first workout. The couch-potato body is taken by surprise; plenty of energy is available from all the stored carbs; and the most serious ache waits in the future. The next day of course, the invoice from that first workout comes due. Getting out of bed, walking, and other simple tasks become agonizing as the body complains about the unexpected exertion from the day before. That second workout, usually two days later, is the one where you truly get started on the program. Waiting longer than two days runs the risk of having another "first workout" and going through that same agonizing "day after". It is before the second workout that many of us decide to stop the program before it really gets started.
Third discovery: computer games are of dubious value to the body in taking a break from writing. The mind gets a chance to relax, but the body stays in front of the computer in that same ergonomically erroneous position as it does when writing. The cat is of no help in this at all. He sleeps for hours beside the computer monitor, gets up, stretches and takes off at the run. I sit for hours at the computer, get up, try to stretch, and fall over from sitting in one spot too long. My breaks must be frequent and involve some sort of activity. Filling the pet dish or cleaning the litter box are both cat-approved break activities.
Fourth discovery: The cat is of no help in working out in the basement either. The look he gives me is that same blank stare you might give your brother if he were to park his brand new Ford Fiesta* in the monkey cage at the zoo... and walk away leaving the doors open. If I had six cats, I could only imagine them calling to each other,
"Hey Felix, come check this out! Our liter box maintenance staff is pedaling for all he's worth and getting nowhere at all!"
"Why do you suppose he does that, Mort?"
"Dunno, but I think we need to stare at him until he stops."
Cats, I've noticed, feel no social pressure to workout or stay in shape, but are fascinated by my efforts for as long as it takes me to workout, or about fifteen minutes at my present fitness level.
Bucky
*Ford Fiesta chosen at random for its alliterative value. Not a shameless plug to get a giant corporation to sponsor my blog!
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