Well it's not like I'm going off to die, but it's sure emotionally taxing doing all the things necessary for the big move.  I'm finally starting to move junk out.  Some of it I'm outright giving away.  Other of it, those things which I think have a higher value, I'm selling to individuals or pawn shops for flat out cash.  I'm desperately trying to limit what I'm taking to one bin, one luggage of clothing, two smaller bins, and a filing cabinet.  All of this sorta kinda will fit neatly into my car (see picture of model).  Everything else, well, veep!

This is how the car will be packed.  Container-style methodology.

It's an emotional process.  I've accumulated videotapes and pictures of family and friends; creative output such as comics, essays, and other writings;  testaments to incredible accomplishments, general correspondence, undelivered love letters, undelivered crazy love letters (which I prefer to think of as passionate since they never actually led to charges, thank goodness), trinkets; and, buckets and buckets of technical stuff like connectors, wires, webcams, and so on.  Holy cow what a mess.  I'm sorting all of this out and have to determine what among it all will pass on to the "take bin", and what of it will go to the other bin.  It's a sentimental journey of consideration - cuz a lot of that stuff defines me to this very day.  It's not a great thing to have to pick and choose among such tokens, especially when you get right down to it and know that, for all practical purposes of space, none of it should go. 

One thing I will have, for as long as I can pay for it, is a connection to the web via laptop.  I traded in a new PC for a new low-end laptop.

Technology defines me, too.  And it's the scariest thing in the world to be letting go of stuff that I know I will not be readily in position to own outright again for up to several years from now - maybe.    When I give up my DVD player for 20 bucks this month, I'm giving it up for good.  In no time soon do I see being able to trot on into a Best Buy and slamming down 50 bucks for another one.   

Set to Reset?

In effect, I'm rebuilding life from scratch in just the attempted move.  Whether this works out in the long run or not, nearly everything I've accumulated over two decades is going.  I have to observe, the parallels between beginning life here in Florida as I did in the late 80s, and beginning life in NYC as I will now, are brow raising.  The common tract goes along something like:  Stay with relatives (check), get a job (pending, but looking good - get a crappy one if necessary to get money rolling in), get out to what will, at first, probably be a really weird living arrangement (even when I get a job, a bonafide apartment is still three to five years off given what must be thousands of dollars on hand to put down, no prospects for a co-signers on a lease, and, a personal bankruptcy on record.  Therefore my first "place" beyond my launching hosts will, in fact, likely be a "weird situation" - boarding or something.  If NYC is filled with anything, it's weird situations). 

That's how it all played out when I came to Florida and thus it appears poised to play out up there. I rather look at this as a game I played once to learn, and, now, will play smart to win.

Maybe I'd Better Take Karate Lessons

That peppy sentiment aside, I'm trying not to think about what happens if nothing happens.  Nothing as defined by, say, two months and I'm still ascared of boarding a subway on my own or I don't even have a blip of a start date (my aunt wisely considers that I might even hate the city, though I'd have to lift my head from the battle of survival long enough to notice).  In this case I have a sum of money in my head that I figure I'll need to reserve for a bus ticket to someplace else.  The Consumerist article would coach against this because the mindset is no retreat, but I have my dignity and the comfort of my hosts to consider.  The what-ifs, therefore, are terrifying but motivating.  I suppose the idea of being a "wanderer" is kinda cool, like Jewels was thinking about near the end of Pulp Fiction when he declares he's going to "wander the earth".  But that's only noble if you know karate and you're always encountering some smoking chick who needs your help against her evil landlord/boss/ex/crazy in-laws, or whatever.  As Vincent retorts to him, something like that is really more about being a bum.   And, in any event, I'm the kind of guy that really needs a home base even if I porcupine out in various jaunts. For better or for worse, that's how I'm setting up NYC.  I guess I'm going to have to use the fear.

Somebody let me know when it's safe to open my eyes!

Well here I am in the Sears Auto waiting area while Sears technicians slowly work to drain even more of my precious August budget.  Knock off another two weeks of confident budgeting in NYC.  I was on my way to Ellenton to trade a brand new desktop PC (which I will have no need for in NYC) in for a brand new laptop (which I will), when I stopped to check my post office box at Pak Mail.  After retrieving a brick of junk mail, I got back in the car only to find it wouldn't start.   Damn.

The Geico people arranged a quick jump for me, and I promptly reported back to the Sears shop I was just at last Saturday.  This time they are replacing the battery and the alternator belt which, they say, has cracks in it.  Is this how that ever too common trip from the dead battery to the starter to the altnernator to the complete re-wiring of the car starts?   Complete with that "we've never seen you in here before" look at each juncture.  How do they perfect that anyway?

I am getting more and more tempted to sell the car. I think I'd rather have the money and take my chances.  We'll see how the results from this visit go.

Ha!  An article published by the Get Rich Slowly blog about how they're changing product sizes without changing prices, struck a nerve with me. 

Once, I purchased a bottle of Dawn "Ultra" dish washing detergent.  The bottle screamed that you the consumer could now "USE LESS DETERGENT" (per load of dishes).  I thought that was great until I got home and thought about it.

How do you use less than a squirt? 

The bottle had an 800 number to the Dawn people, so for only the second or third time in my entire life, I actually used such a number to ask them.  I asked the woman who eventually answered, "How do you use less than a squirt?".

The customer service rep appeared to think about it for a second.  I actually believe she consulted a knowledgebase.  Finally she came back with a sudden "Oh!," and explained, "The hole is smaller".

I tipped the bottle and looked at the hole and maybe it was smaller than before, and maybe it wasn't.  I had never noticed hole sizes before.  But, in any event, I said, "Oh, okay, thanks!".

A few weeks later they sent me a coupon for a free bottle of Dawn.

Update 7/30:  Arrangements for the birds have been made with an early respondent to my advertisement.  Thanks for everyone's interest!

These two birds are in need of a great home.  They can't follow me to the Big Apple, so if you'd like to consider adopting them please drop me a note.

Stillman and Flygirl sit atop their cage.  Their favorite hang out.

The white parakeet is named "Stillman" (but is female - I think).  She's easily frightened by just about any movement near or around her, except any caused by her lifelong mate.  She was the first of the two birds purchased back in 2003 (I believe) from the pet store located in the University Square mall.  She's named Stillman because the first few months I had her she appeared to do little more than sit and stare, shell-shocked at being alive.

Close up of Stillman.

Flygirl is a bit more sociable once she gets used to your habits around the house.  If she flies some place beyond the cage and can't get back to it on her own (both birds molt and lose a degree of flying ability each year), she can be easily coaxed to hop on your finger using the standard budgie directive "up up", where she then expects to be transported back to said cage on your finger.

Close up of Flygirl.

While both birds, in a stable environment, can be let out of their cage to hop around on top of it (their favorite project once on top is their silver bell-hook "pulling project" which they began years ago but from what I can tell are making absolutely no progress on.  They are equally content with their secondary bird-cage-handle "flipping" project, which also appears mired despite their determination to fulfill some unknown agenda) they are just as happy being kept inside their cage if it is more convenient for you, or, until you get them comfortable with your home and routine.  While they do sometimes flutter away from their cage, usually in response to being briefly spooked, they each make their way back to it on their own fairly quickly.  In all the years I've had them I have never had to clip their wings or be (overly) concerned about leaving a door open.

They eat standard parakeet seed and have never been much interested in fruits or other goodies offered to them over the years.  They do enjoy those big white cutlery chips, however.

The cage and all other apparatus are included.  Because these two have been together nearly all their lives, they must be adopted together.  They are ideal for an otherwise quiet home - perhaps as a nice compliment to a screened-in porch.  Perhaps someone with more patience and time can manage to socialize them a bit more to humans, but they tend to stick to playing and arguing with each other.  Otherwise they are completely healthy physically speaking.  Stillman, the white one, even survived and recovered from a cat attack.  Tough as nails these two.

Please contact me if interested.  I work second shift and so let voice mail answer most of the time because I'm either sleeping during the day or working in the evening.  However, I will respond to all calls about this the first convenient moment.

Notice to My E-Mail Subscribers

This will be the last posting I notify about on my NYC move through e-mail, except for the extremely high or low points of my journey.  I don't feel it appropriate to bug people of my every little trial and tribulation.   If you want to be notified of all my postings in between these highs and lows, I suggest you subscribe to my RSS feed, or, just check back frequently.

Okay, Here We Go!

It's been a week now since making the big decision, and I've been hard at work cementing various elements of the NYC plan.  I have three basic budgets, a shutdown budget (basically August), a travel budget (for getting myself there), and a working budget, which, in the absence of any other income, basically dictates up to how long I can stay to make a go of it in the Big Apple - hospitality of relatives notwithstanding.  The working budget expands and shrinks as I constantly tally up the two other budgets, but I'm shooting for a full three months.  Point of fact, I believe one of the top priorities will be to get any job when I get there, just to keep a regular paycheck coming in.  Ideally, part-time so that I'm free to interview for the better job which goes more pointedly to the larger goal of actually staying.  Then I can begin Phase II, which I call the "Quest for My Shitty Little Apartment" which I'll politically restate from now on as the QMSLA or SLA sub-effort.

The good news is that the myth of the "all fiscally forbidden city" is beginning to fall apart, at least from where I sit.  It's true that tiny little apartments cost $1200 at least, and the average wage doesn't really compensate for that.  However, it seems to me that there are a lot of people (well, enough people) who rent out rooms or board for far more reasonable rates.  If I do wind up having to serve up fries at McDonalds, I can actually pull off survival under the right circumstances.  Remember, at first it's just about sticking to the big city - I'll work on prosperity later.  Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm not against early home runs, but there's nothing entirely special about me and it's not like I'm part of some corporate cog that invited me up.  That's what makes my effort so interesting, I like to think. 

I've scheduled my A+ Certification exam for the very week before I leave, so, hopefully, I'll at least have that in place before lift off to re-validate me as a viable tech worker.

I Have a New York City Telephone Number

Speaking of jobs and tech, here's a neat little aside to all this.  I actually have Vonage as a telephone service which allows you to set up a virtual telephone number as an inexpensive add-on.  The beauty of this is that I was able to obtain a New York City area code telephone number today which will enable me to fire off resumes ahead of my arrival.  Some people may disagree, but I believe a local identity is important to having your resume taken seriously.  It works like this: basically, a potential employer calls the local number as presented, and, if I'm not "quite" in town yet, my cell phone rings anyway wherever I happen to be (bearing in mind that Vonage forwards to my cell - kinda important since I won't actually have a broadband connection in which to use its flagship service).  As well, I'm free to take my time in switching over my 813 cell number, etc., permanently, and, my local buds and family can still dial me "local" before I do.

This left high speed net access as the next big problem.  My host relatives do not have an internet connection in their home, or even a PC, and I'm really gonna kinda need that for serious job hunting, MTA transit navigation, and so forth.  To resolve it I re-signed up for Verizon's VZ Access which is not quite up to cable or FIOS speeds but will provide me with fast enough high speed internet connectivity through my laptop to get the job of getting a job done. 

The scariest thing for me is that even after I've managed to "stick" to the city and get my SLA, will I ever really have enough for a personal broadband connection to the interwebs ever again?  I mean after food, rent, and basic utility expenses?  Gulp!

Okay Bessie, Just One More for the Gipper Tripper

The car is acting weird - the battery died the day before yesterday.  The folks at Sears said the battery was in fact low and needed to be charged, but speculated it wasn't a serious issue.  They said there may be a "slow draw" in the car somewhere, or, I left something like a dome light on at some point.  Either way, they didn't seem to want to take it seriously enough to do a diagnostic and now I'm eyin'er somewhat suspiciously.  Like, I've never driven farther than the distance between Ft. Myers and Tampa, let alone the entire Eastern Seaboard.  For my first time doing so I really won't need "weird things" happening with my car, especially cruelly after almost 6 years of near flawless operation otherwise.  Dude, just ain't the time.  I've talked with her and reminded all she has to do for me in this world now is get me to this one very special place without any hassles, and she can park in peace for many years after.  We'll see!  Otherwise, someone around here is gonna get a really great car cheap.

Get Ready to Buy My Stuff

And speaking of getting things cheap, I'm starting to post things at Yard Bark Tampa Bay.  Take a look at my list and if you're interested in anything, let me know by responding to it.  One cool thing is that I finally get to pilot the site.

Okay, here it is.  I'm moving to New York City.  I've been wanting to go live there for as long as I can remember, mainly in a series of on-again-off-again "NYC bugs" over time.  I've never taken the leap because, well, it's freakin' nuts.  But here's the situation today.   It's still nuts but very suddenly I find myself with the opportunity, freedom, and, perhaps, even need, all bundled together at one time.

To accomplish this, I'm going to go by as much of the book as offered up by the Consumerist's Move to New York City Sane and Not Broke, as possible.  The article, which I first found online during what I believe was the umpteenth occurrence of my numerous NYC "bugs" early last year, offers a frank outline of what to do and what to expect once one more delusionally NYC-happy chump like me arrives there.  For my purposes of transition, it will be considered the operational bible.

What makes this possible for me, or at least, convincingly possible - kinda like a mirage perhaps - is a major tenet of the article which is that it helps to have a friendly support system in place when you get there.  Read, it helps a lot.

I didn't believe I had such a support system until earlier this year during my grandmother's funeral.  At that time, I was re-acquainted with my grandmother's side of the family, friendly and wonderful folks I've ever only kept up with through stories and the like, usually from three people over and two right.  Still, anyone within such natural proximity to my late grandmother has a heart of gold and can be trusted where I instinctively trust so few to an admitted fault just because they radiate from her love and direction.  Oh, don't take me for corny, these are real people, but you would have had to known my grandmother to understand.   These relatives have lived in New York City all their lives (my aunt actually has recollections of meeting my natural father there way back in the 60s; she's the only person that I know of besides my mom who does), and the idea I might shack up with them to start life in NYC had come up before when, I guess, it seemed like I needed direction or something, or perhaps I myself was openly flirting with the idea.  Certainly my grandmother was all for it but things were going pretty good for me at the time and moving out of Florida wasn't a serious consideration.

And things are not bad now.  They are, I suppose, god-awfully static.  I took a gamble on becoming an autonomous private investigator and walked away from a great salary, great people, great benefits, and, a great job doing what I am passionate about doing on some daily basis, which is working with PCs and codin'.  As has been long blogged, the PI thing didn't work out first time around, so I thrashed about to quickly restore a regular paycheck - quite necessary, since, in the middle of all this, I'm paying out on a bankruptcy.  Somehow I found myself, by the grace of non-bridge-burnin', at my old college job monitoring burglar alarms, which fit the bill perfectly at the time.  Thanks to that, six months ahead of schedule, I completely paid off my bankruptcy and have since really been free to do whatever I please.  I've been staying put at the alarm monitoring gig mainly out of convenience, and, a loosely made promise to stick it out for 2 years.  Turns out I'm not perfect and had to break that promise, though I am still committed through the end of August.

Which brings me here.  In assessing the overall situation, I find myself with a little bit of money (thank you Simple Dollar!, for you have been the back bone of a financial revolution in my life!); gram-side relatives still holding out their couch to help; and, none of the real tie-downs many people my age have.  You know, loving wives and adoring children.  My three decades of working steadfastly to avoid any emotional development and maturity whatsoever are at long last paying off in reckless freedom.  Yeah!  Among all this, there's that damn persistent survived-beyond-the-Seinefeld-sitcom-years-and-9-1-1 "be a New Yorker", bug. 

Folks, seriously now, why the hell not?  Wouldn't you?  The choice is to continue lopping along in this delapitated old house (sorry Jim, I meant, prestigious Historic Monument to Olde Tampa)  waiting for the next IT break that may actually come, but, would only serve to leave me wondering "what if", if I got as comfortable as I have in the past.  New York City is oozing with opportunities, and, a lifestyle potential I've in fact long promoted here in Tampa.  I have the freedom, I have the opportunity, now.

Not All Perfectly Sensible

My situation is not ideal of course.  When I say I have a little bit of money, I mean a little.  Perhaps it is more appropriate to call my Simple Dollar revolution more of a minor coup in the way I've been spending and saving, but I did save some and some is about what I need to make a go of it.

I'm also 42.  I mean, dude, normally the big city lights are best pursued by young scampers of the type I was when I blurted this idea out as a goofy wobbly high school student, but came to Florida instead.   Kid that age doesn't mind curdling up one or two nights on the steps of some random fire escape, cuz, actually, it's kinda noble or romantic in some fictionalized sort of way.  By contrast, if I'm at my aunt's house for more than a few months with no progress, it's going to look, well, pretty pathetic.

You think I wouldn't enjoy being one of the mole people?

I'm also doing a few things wrong in all this, I suppose, according to the Consumerist's article's don't move back plea, which is that I'm budgeting for an exit strategy (who am I after all, George Bush?), and, get this, I'm taking my car.  The car will make it easier to transport a few necessities, and, it will be on hand to sell for money to pay apartment brokerage fees when that magic day arrives.  But more than anything, really, it's a safety blanket.  It's paid for and I haven't put 26,000 miles on the thing yet.  If worst comes to worst, it can carry me back to Florida all bloodied and beaten, lest I hit the streets and wind up as one of many of New York City's mole people.  No, the car normally wouldn't work out in New York City, but in the particular neighborhood where she'll be stowed, it's relatively safe and there's no one forcing you to move it around every couple of hours.  If I can get it there in one piece, I can park it and forget it.  Which I promptly will.  Till I need apartment money I mean.

Reality Check

Let's be clear, at my age, I'm never going to enjoy the New York City night life the way a younger person might - and I'm not going to do that whole crazy writing of the Great American Novel/tortured artist thing.  But, if I do make it at some job and survive, 20 years from now I can be that comfortable old guy who figured the city out two decades earlier, enjoyed doing so despite the hassle, and, who reaps all of the the city's classical virtues in that time - even if I'm simultaneously described as that weird crank living in the basement studio.  What, you think I'm going to beat that future for me here? And come to think of it, what am I talking about, future?

For this angle, my own mother is my unlikely model.  42 seems kind of late for anything to "do", or to "happen", but I took note of my mom's life these past 20 years.  In that time she kicked alchohol, picked up a paralegal degree at an actual college - not a 4 a.m. infomercial college; got married, learned to drive (she spent her would-be driving formative years in, of all places, New York City), became a widow, became a lottery winner, and, an amazing interior decorator and full-fledged cook all in the space of time I'm now just starting from.  And, she did all this after relocating to Florida.  It's really not crazy, and it's probably in the blood.

Getting Ready

There's a lot to do.  I mean, there is a lot to do.  I have to begin liqudating stuff almost immediately, especially for a buck where I can, (I've reactivated Yard Bark folks!), pass an A+ Certification test for maximum opportunity renderin', check out my 'net connectivity options from my old laptop (aunt doesn't even have a computer!) using a Verizon broadband service I suspect; finding a good home for my two budgies, and, on and on and on and on.  

I shouldn't stress too much because, knowing me, I won't do half this crap anyway.  But, it all sounds good and sharp - like I know what the heck I'm doing, doesn't it? 

Oh, as for timetable, I'm leaving in the early weeks of September.

There are people on my blog e-mail list who are doing, or have done, the whole NYC thing.  I'll take any advice, any leads, any time, any forum.  That's another Consumerist tip I'm taking.  Tap everyone you know who's ever been or done, or is doing.  So, you, don't be shy in commenting or e-mailing.  I won't be looking anyone up for awhile - mainly I need to get there and believe I'm staying before I engage in the folley of actually calling anyone up to announce as much.  And, in any event, the Consumerist sayz y'all ain't got time for another shmuck showing up to prove he can do the Big Apple.  Good point.

Look for the Blog Coming Soon

And finally, tell me this isn't great blogging material.  It is.  Turns out there are little blogs here and there by other folks who've taken the NYC challenge, and these blogs do very well.  Seems everyone loves watching people make it, or, crashing and burning.  So, I'll start one.   They have all different starting dispositions.  Since most of them seem run by higher-functioning good-looking people who would probably make it anywhere they went (in fact, I couldn't find one by someone who actually did crash and burn), I think I'll cast mine as one about an overaged big-city idealist of marginal ability at best, trying to make it.  The secret of building any audience is actually to focus on the potential for failure, which secretly fascinates people.  Stay tuned for the domain.

Okay, let's take a passage in a Reuters news story about some Russian guy who wound up in trouble for posting that cops there should be killed. Here it is:

Most Russians receive their news and information from television stations and newspapers controlled by the state or by businessmen with links to the Kremlin, with opposition voices confined largely to the Internet, talk radio and low-circulation publications.

The mere postulation of this statement suggests that, somehow, things in this country are any different (if you were looking to compare I mean). Here's how a foreigner might read the same story if it were written about our country:

Most Russians Americans receive their news and information from television stations and newspapers controlled by the state large corporations or by businessmen lobbyists with links to the Kremlin Washington, with opposition voices confined largely to the Internet, talk radio and low-circulation publications.

Either way, you're the surf consumer.

I have this nasty habit of applying the rules of our country to the outcomes as reported in other countries, particularly countries unpopular culturally or politically with the United States. Time and time again I clearly see how the outcome, whether it be to suppress dissident ideas, curb or promote extremism, is the same, even if we rely upon different tactics to achieve them.

Incidentally, go ahead and post to the internet that cops should be cleaned up by "ceremonially burning them up twice a day", and see if you get away with it in this country. Free speech is likely a priority in Russia as it is here, so when we read articles that somehow paint the country, any country really, as "evil" for merely struggling with the boundaries of the concept, we should be skeptical of the agenda. There's no difference between super powers other than how the cards are shuffled.

I should probably finally talk about my latest Dave the Web Guy impulse project. Unlike anything I've done before, this thing sprouted legs almost instantly after launch.

I call it Perp Turkey, and really, it's a blog devoted to stories and musings of crooks who are caught before they realize it thanks to consumer level and specialized law enforcement technology. In such a situation, the blog refers to such perpetrators as perp turkeys. See it for yourself.

Blurb about Perp Turkey as it appeared in the Providence Journal in Rhode Island.

I launched it kind of low-key, but the concept must have some kind of promise. In just two weeks it had a great mention in The Providence Journal, a major Rhode Island newspaper. The mention was complete with Perp Turkey's tagline "Where Bad People Meet Good Technology". Damn. I didn't discuss the site in but one place on the web, and lo and behold, that one place led to the mention. That mention drove in over 500 hits in one day (400 or so within 10 hours), whereas before, the site received just a couple. These were real hits, too. People had to actually type in "Perp Turkey" in Google to reach the site because the newspaper article didn't hyperlink it or provide the qualified URL address. When over 500 people go out of their way to Google search something, you start to think that you might have a potential winner of a concept on your hands. And, let's face it, it's nice that it received the same billing as You Tube in the very same paragraph. Bonus points.

The site itself needs a lot of work, of course. It's little more than a generic Battle Blog presentation with virtually no graphics. I was hoping to put a lot more into it before it was noticed, but concept may be the greater sail over aesthetics in this case. I ain't complaining.

Perp Turkey is officially a Dave the Web Guy project, now. So, here's to a long one Perp Turkey, I'm going to enjoy working with you!

This happens every now and again.  I'll notice on the headline news module at my Yahoo portal that two different if not somewhat similar stories appear.  I swore next time it happened I was going to screenshot it and show it off.  Here it is:

Two "most viewed" stories via Yahoo that deal with either plane passengers sleeping, or the pilots.  What's up with that?

Prodded by the feeling I really had to do something different this weekend, I went to see Dasavathaaram. This is a Bollywood production and definitely qualified as different.

An old acquaintance actually plays a large and pivitol role in it, and her local promotion of the impending premiere was all the prodding I needed. She plays Yuka, the kick-ass karate wife of a murdered man who takes as good as she gives. You might think that that alone would get a post out of me, but that's not why I'm writing. Ann's actually being oddly humble about the whole thing (though I will say that having a text message conversation with the same person kicking ass on the big screen in front of you as part of a major motion picture, is, well, pretty cool).

Dasavatharam Trailer

In reality, however, I'm making this post because I can't get over how fantastic the movie was. Could be a case of something merely different registering as something great; but, nah, I don't think so. I was entirely engaged even after having initial suspicions that I would in fact be lost in translation and in cultural references. The film featured brilliant cinematography, particularly at the movie's opening when a story about a 12th century apostle for one god is thrown into the sea by a King demanding subordination to another. It is breathtaking and horrific at the end when the tsunami of 2004 is depicted with mind-boggling realism. Indeed, it must be due to some cultural benevolence that the film producers were even able to tie the 2004 tsunami into a deeper moral of the story that everything happens for a reason.

Aside from its laden philosophical suggestions, the plot revolved around a mild-mannered scientist and a determined ex-CIA agent each trying to retrieve the same vile of deadly biological agent stuff that could potentially "kill millions". The ex-CIA guy was in fact a paid assassin, and he wanted the vile in order to return it to those who in turn wanted to sell it to terrorists. The scientist, a party in the agent's concoction before it was leaked into this whirlwind chase by a wayward monkey, obviously wanted to prevent that. The chase starts in America and winds up in India, parting here and there for little side stories (and the occasional musical interlude) that an American made film would never tolerate in the space of 1.5 hours. This flick went beyond 3 hours and actually had an intermission. It led me to wonder if that was common with Indian cinema.

It's worth noting that the lead played 10 characters in this movie. Something similar to what Eddie Murphy did once, though not to such scale, and, hardly with as much convincing success. They announced this novelty as much in big white letters at the movie's opening (dude gonna play 10 parts, get ready!), but I didn't know immediately which characters would be the same guy so hardly gave it a second thought 5 minutes into it. I was floored to learn at film's end that every major character, except for the leading lady, was the same guy. And if you see this, keep an eye on the little old lady - yep, same guy. His name is Kamal Haasan and judging by the reaction of the largely Indian audience I was sitting in the middle of, he's considered a big deal in Bollywood.

Look, I'd be the last person to recommend someone go see an action flick. Bottom line, they're shot in the dark, cater to ADD kids, and seek to make an explosive visual no less than every 60 frames. Somewhere in there there's usually a "story". But, I'm highly recommending this one because it avoids all that and will actually, for-real, not-kidding-here, keep you at the edge of your seat. Yes, it's Indian, but you'll come back here and tell me, damn, I was right.

Of course, I saw it on opening night as a special premiere at Muvico in Centro, so I guess I'm not really sure where you'd see it now. Only that if you get the opportunity, do.

Co-worker Dan is pointing me to a website called The Best Web Page in the Universe. It's a type-a intellecualist blog that's gaining traction.

This has to be among one of the cruelest accidental ad placements ever.

I've been looking for something to vocationally shore up my resume with before I launch my next job search. After considering the potential financial impact on current resources, and the time with which I have to do so in, I've decided the most digestable yet valuable course of action is to become A+ certified. I'm hoping that combined with my experience, the extra step of certification will keep me in the game after almost three years of no systematic contact with PCs. A+ is considered the norm in PC tech work, and about half the positions advertised flat out require it. Truth be told I should have done this ages ago. I guess it's one of those things where if you're comfortable, you don't stretch.

I don't work the hours that allow for classes, but luckily, it's easy enough to study for the certification exam on your own these days - particularly if you already have the experience. Ergo, I opted for an A+ kit from Amazon to study and practice with.

A+ Certification in a box.

As well, I dropped yet another application to a local PI firm hoping to find someone who can keep me going at least part time. Granted my last experience didn't go well, but different firms have different needs and different approaches in training and HR implementation. Honestly, I don't expect that to pan out (especially now since I'm louder with my online publishing than ever), but I want to make sure my own hunch, in this case, is not the final authority on whether I can actually continue to develop as a PI. Many firms don't need full-time PIs, or, just need a fresh face for a quick assignment in order to collect a detail about someone or something. Since I do have my intern license, I could be incorporated quickly if only briefly and continue to benefit from the experience - so long as the firm is willing to sign my sponsorship papers. By December, I have to know for sure whether to bother keeping myself licensed, and, if so, be sure to somehow keep active in the field.

Also, people naturally ask me, if I do have to wind up leaving the area because it turns out I can't land anything, PC or PI, where will I go? In a nutshell I'm favoring any city with a rail-based transit option. I do, after all, make a local cause out of one. I have relatives willing to offer launch support in New York City if I wish to tackle the monster of all cities (and one of the most transit rich), but I'm guessing I'd have more luck a lot of other places first. I won't consider that much until after I've exhausted my local possibilities.

Frankly, if I fizzle on a local job search after leaving my present gig, I'll probably take a good vacation or travel the country a bit in general, before deciding. For the moment, it's important more than anything to me that I develop all options to their maximum potential.

I'm really going to check into an assertiveness program or something. Lately, it seems, I've encountered a number of challenges that seem to capitalize on my point-of-presence naitivity. This is a chronic condition I admit, and I suspect that it's because I avoid hanging out and interacting with people so much in general, I'm really not exercised in the management of what people typically refer to as bullshit.

Case in point. I'm at the ol' Wal-Mart earlier this week when I pass by a gritty plump woman, dirty, maybe even homeless, but clean enough and coherent enough to be walking through the store. This is not an unusual thing at 2:00 in the morning in the East Tampa Wal-Mart. I only notice her because of course I instinctively assume any new woman falling into view might be someone to wink to. Sometimes this desperate, and sure, pretty darned pathetic and even creepy bachelor instinct, races slightly ahead of assimilating the merits of the woman in question. Is (insert periphereal physical profile of a woman) someone I'd care to spend time with standing in the checkout line, let alone anything more?, is a question that should be fully qualified before making eye contact, in an ideal world. But it isn't an ideal world.

Having already made my erroneous eye contact, she muttered something as she strolled by. Something under her breath I didn't quite make out. Did she just hit on me? Did she convey one of those spontaneous crazy street lady sentiments for me to go to hell? Maybe, figuring I'd actually hit on her, she preemptively told me I wasn't classy enough. Don't rule that out.

In any event I pass by her, shrugging it off. But moments later, I spot her in another isle talking to a guy who also appears a bit down on his luck. He's got a long white dirty beard and a t-shirt spotted with black patches of what looks like grease. It's clear from looking at them in secretive huddle that they are up to something. I groan because it might not involve approaching me for money, but it probably does. Plus, it's a little disturbing. Who plots a common panhandling encounter with a huddle? Whether I was the mark or not, it was bound to be something deeper than asking for money. Double groan.

My suspicion is confirmed in the bread aisle where she bee-lines straight for me. At first I cannot understand what she is saying, but, bolstered my habitual friendly interest, she finally speaks up and lays out the deal for me. She has a Wal-Mart gift card and would like to get some money out of it - as in actual cash. If I allow her to buy my groceries at checkout, she will then ask the cashier for money back on the card, and we'll both win. This is really something only a complete idiot would even consider, let alone agree to, but amazingly, I do.

The Scary Thing

And that's the scary thing here. Forget how it turned out (it was of course a scam attempt. After purchasing the groceries, the woman then confronted me as having misunderstood the "bargain" and tried to convince me that one way to appease the situation was to buy the card with a $50 charge on it for $20 - which I declined in at least one smart move. The card likely had no balance left or some other such thing. I paid her the cost of my groceries and that was that). What's important to note is just how lulled I was into doing something I concurrently didn't want to go along with the entire time. The question it begs is, just how easy it for people to hijack my will?

Pretty darned it seems.

This event really follows a series that have brought about this epiphany. For instance, about 9 months ago I found myself doing the boots of a homeless man at an all night laundromat, paying for it, and, even holding the door of the dryer closed the whole 30 odd minutes while he leaned on a table nearby watching. Hm. Then there's the dude who, without warning, and after an otherwise pleasent conversation, put his hand on my stomach to feel my muscles. I mean, he kept it there for like a second or two. Whoa!

For sure, one thing I'm going to look into are assertiveness classes. Don't get me wrong, I don't consider myself weak or even without force. However, it's a little more than obvious now that, given the right hit-and-run situation, I am easily taken advantage of, corralled into things, or, set up in ways that even a little common assertiveness would prevent. As one who depends a lot on thinking to get by in life, I have gotten rusty if not outright locked up in my ability to manage life live as-it-happens when there is no time to think. And people with malicious or strange ends seem to notice almost instantly.

Folks, steps will be taken to correct this. I only hope to god I don't have to become like one of those people who have surrendered to that creepy stoic look, bolstered by the rich foundation of zero personality, in order to get by. Those people creep me out. I have always been naturally friendly, helpful, and very liberal in my tolerance for others. But as I seek to break the chains that bind me in life, this wussiness one set of them that seems the most important to go.