My grandfather's passing

My grandfather died on 11 June 2012.  His name is Michael Tipa, and apparently he is fairly well known in some circles.  I wasn't aware of how widely known he was in organizations like the olympic games commitees, the NRA, and the International Shooting Sport Federation (which I'd never heard of before my grandfather passed).  My grandfather was also a lieutenant colonel in the army.  He apparently did a lot with his life, and much of it I wasn't terribly familiar with.

That brings me to what I am familiar with.  He did all sorts of impressive things, and I learned he was important as a mentor to a fair number of people, but to me, he only played the role of grandfather.  I find it unfortunate now that I grew up so far away from my grandparents.  It resulted in me not being as close as I'd like, but I do have a fair number of memories of him.  To me he was always soft spoken and ready to smile or laugh.  He was relaxed and easy to be around.  In my mid twenties I was employed full time, and looking to buy a home... my grandparents both offered to help with it.  That might not convey what I'm trying for by itself, so I'll try to explain what that meant to me.  Without their help, I couldn't have made the downpayment... I wouldn't likely have had enough money on my own to buy the home.  I would have had to move in with my parents.  I love my parents, but I want my own space.  My grandparents helped me have that, and it meant a lot to me.  It also reinforced the thought in me that my grandparents were generous people who care about me.

My grandfather was family.

I travelled to attend my grandfather's funeral service on 17 August 2012.  It was nice service.  The part that got to me the most was the part of the military service where they play Taps.  I know that many people are emotionally affected by that song, and of course the setting is conducive to the emotional reaction, but as a point of interest: I'm curious about why it has the strong effect that it does.  But back to the topic at hand, I sat in that little chapel with family and friends, I learned things about him that I didn't know, and I felt some of the sense of loss I felt those months ago when he passed.

But honestly, I had already processed the loss.  The service felt a little more like a tribute than an event that might help me deal with the loss.  And that's actually a good thing in my mind.  When the family and friends left the service to spend some more time together afterward, the mood was good.  And this is when we get to what that day really meant to me...

My grandfather brought family together.

I hadn't seen some of my family in 20 years.  And together we ate, talked, laughed, drank, and I felt... happy.  In a life filled with responsibility (as are most I would imagine), it felt good to relax with family; to tell and hear stories; to share a drink or two; to feel like I am part of something that accepts me and enjoys my company; and though the passing of my grandfather is a sorrowful loss, he gave us the excuse we needed to come together for the first time in decades.  I think he would like knowing how well we still enjoy each other's company.  I'll miss him, but I'm also grateful to him for the gifts he's given.  I'm grateful for the family we are part of.

Good bye grandpa, and thank you.

I'm bad with complex grammar, but this stuff everyone should know...

I'm a software engineer.  The only syntax I need to genuinely be concerned with is the syntax used by the programming language.  But even still, I pride myself on being able to write a sentence that is understandable in English.  I place a high level of importance on being clear, and I appreciate it when other people try to be clear in their communication as well.

I also spend a fair amount of time reading online forums on various topics.  Sometimes it's work related, when I'm looking to see if anyone has run into the same issue I might have just found.  Other times the forums are for things that entertain me, like the official GURPS forums.

I am disappointed by the grammar almost everywhere I go online.  Some of it so bad (usually on those technical forums) that I can't adequately describe it here.  The short version of the description is that I am unable to understand what a person posting on the forum is trying to convey.  But there are simpler bits that people mess up frequently.

your
The word "your" is used incorrectly more often than correctly on the forums I read.  I don't understand why. Are people that lazy when they type that they can't type a couple extra characters?  Does it really save that much time to drop those extra characters?

• your: a pronoun indicating ownership or possession.  You might use it in a sentence like, "your clothing looks good on you."
• you're: the contraction form of the words "you are".  You might use it in a sentence like, "you're dancing very well."

Sadly, in my experience, people writing for the entire population of the internet to see don't bother to type out "you're".  Ever.  And it bothers me enough that I'm writing this blog post.  But it doesn't end there...

to
Do I need to explain this one?

• to: the most common definition is to indicate direction of travel, as in "I am going to the store".
• too: it means "also", like when you say "I want ice cream too".
• two: It's a number.  People don't seem to use this incorrectly a lot, but what I do see a lot of is people typing the character "2" instead of writing out the letters "to" or "too".

It boggles my mind.  How hard is it really?  At most we're talking about three characters, and posting on forums is not something I imagine people doing from a cell phone.  Is it really that hard to type out the whole word on a full keyboard?  And even if it is done on a cellphone, I just don't understand why people are willing to be confusing.  Are they just too stupid?  Should I be going easy on them for that?

their
This might be the most incorrectly used set of homonyms I'm aware of.  I'm getting a headache as I type this because I tried to correct someone on a forum about the grammatical mistake, and one of the forum moderators asked me not to pick on people like that.  I thought I was being polite.  I thought I was helping to avoid future embarrassment.  But I got a talking to.

• their: possessive pronoun.  It indicates possession.  How hard is that to remember?  You might use it in a sentence like "their house is beautiful."
• there: it indicates a place.  You might use it in a sentence like "look over there."
• they're: Another example of a contraction with the word "are" in it.  It is short for "they are".  You might use it in a sentence like "they're the best swimmers I know."

Why are these such common mistakes?  Why do so many people have such trouble with this?  I want people to know that they're using their language poorly (see what I did there?).  Your understanding of what an author is trying to say is greatly assisted by correct grammar, and I'd bet you're going to thank me for clarifying all this.  Those two homonym groups are the ones that take me to my angry place most often, but this one gets me there too.

Okay.  I'm done venting.  I would be very happy if the forum population would improve their understanding of English grammar enough to stop triggering my OCD.

Homeopathy is Stupid

Homeopathy is stupid.  It doesn't even make sense conceptually, and when you factor in that it has been shown to NOT WORK, it amazes me that there are supporters out there for it.  People willing to believe in it because of anecdotal evidence... which in my mind isn't really evidence.  Peer review (review by other people trying to cure diseases in this case) and the ability to replicate the results (the ability to cure people of various ailments with homeopathy) are what you'd need to show that homeopathy works.  But it doesn't.  It fails those tests.  There are plenty of people claiming that it works... but unsubstantiated claims don't mean homeopathy is credible.

But first lets be clear.  Just to be sure those of you reading this blog post know what homeopathy is.  Imagine you have a cold that you want to get rid of.  You could just buy cold medicine.  You could eat lots of oranges or other foods high in vitamin C.  You could relax in a steam room to help clear your sinuses.  Or if you believe in homeopathy, you find a substance that is bad for people but which can cause the same symptoms as a cold.  I don't know such a substance off the top of my head, but what they do with it is to dilute it in water.  They go through a process that dilutes it even further over and over again.  And when they're done, they have a liquid that is... water.  That's it.  They dilute it so much (by definition) that the substance that causes the similar symptoms is effectively no longer present.  It is no longer an "active ingredient" in the dilution.  And homeopaths claim that drinking this dilution will have beneficial effect against the cold or whatever other ailment you're trying to deal with.

I'd just like to point out that the definition of homeopathy does not include herbal remedies, or home care.  It does not represent all of "alternate medicine".  It is very specific to using diluted materials that CAUSE bad symptoms to cure maladies that have similar symptoms.  Not only is that a stupid idea to begin with, but diluting it to the point of not being anything more than pure water means that the bad substance isn't even a factor.

I don't even need to read medical articles that test this to know that drinking water won't cure cancer or malaria.  but just in case you want to do further reading on the subject...

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Homeopathy

Pay special attention to the parts where it points out that homeopathy doesn't work.

Now if you want to say that herbal remedies can work, and that alternative medicine can be effective... then yeah... I agree with you.  But homeopathy is a very specific practice that very specifically does not work.  At least... not any better than placebo does.  So it has psychosomatic effect going for it I guess.

Anyway, I just wanted to write this to express my horror at the thought of otherwise intelligent people arguing that homeopathy works... and more importantly that these people are part of society and presumably have a bearing on its future.  What else do they accept as truth despite evidence to the contrary?  How many people will die because someone insists that homeopathy works to cure cancer?  I suppose I don't care if it's people dying because they believe... but what about kids with parents who won't let them make use of real medicine?

Homeopathy is stupid.

About mediocrity

Any time we as humans decide to put effort into an endeavor, there are a range of possible outcomes.  At the extremes, we can succeed or we can fail.  But because life isn't always binary, we can “almost fail”, which is really success but not enough.  We can “mostly succeed” which is means we accomplished most of what we wanted, but we’re not satisfied with the results.  To achieve true success, we need to reach all our goals… enough that we feel proud enough that we want other people to know about it.  But perhaps even that is on a scale.  Some people might want others to know that they partially succeeded.

There’s a great quote from a speech given by Theodore Roosevelt, that’s often referred to as “the Man in the Arena”:

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

The quote makes sense, but it suggests that “success” might be in the attempt when compared to not even trying.  So is success defined in the effort or the results?  Do they combine to make the spectrum a little wider?  Does that mean two possible failure scenarios?  Do failing at an endeavor and not even trying in the first place both count as failing in the grand scheme?

If I want to start and run a “successful” company, by Roosevelt’s thinking I would likely be considered to have failed for not even trying… for not stepping into the arena.  But some part of me is apparently more frightened of the failure that can come with trying than the failure of not even trying.  If I fail while trying… while giving it my all… then in my own mind I am not good enough a person.  If I don’t try in the first place, I can console myself by saying that it wasn’t even something I wanted to try in the first place.  The failure that comes when you do try hurts me more.  So I am afraid to try.  And I am one of those cold and timid souls.

But then, it’s not just flat out failure that I’m afraid of.  Like I was trying to suggest early on: I believe in a spectrum of failure through success.  If I start that company and it exists (I succeed in creating it and making it run), but then it doesn’t do well enough to pay my cost of living, or allow me to hire people to do other parts of running the business, then it won’t feel like a success to me.  And going through the effort of starting a company up seems like a lot when it might flounder or fail.  And I won’t meet my own expectations.  I’ll become disheartened.  That’s the domain of mediocrity.

Anything I decide I want to put my mind to is something I expect to do exceedingly well at.  I can’t accept mediocrity.  So I only try things that I’m pretty sure I’ll do well at.  But it has devolved into me not doing much of anything.  I find time wasting activities that don’t matter.  They just pass time.  So I work.  I relax.  I sleep.  I go back to work.  There are a couple distractions from that cycle.  I spend time with my parents which is nice enough, but really isn’t something that makes life worth living.  I spend time with some friends about once a week, and while that makes me happy, it’s not something I can look back on and point to in pride.

I’m smart, and I know I have a lot of potential, but I’m not doing anything with it.  So I think I’m failing at life.  I’m not even stepping into the arena, and I feel pretty sad… a hole in my heart… when I think about it that way.  I know it’s true… but I can’t seem to make a change.  I can’t seem to get over the fear of being mediocre; of being average; of being just like 99% of the population.

So how do I convince myself to try?  Where do I get the motivation from?  And how do I make myself accept the idea of being in the middle of the pack?  I’ve been this way for years.  If I knew the answer, I think I’d have changed by now.

Being alone for a long time

So here I am at home. Alone. I watched a few episodes of "One Tree Hill" (I started watching because I have a crush on Sophia Bush). And I sang 8 or 9 songs in Rock Band (ended with "It's My Life" by Bon Jovi). Oh and I've had a few drinks. Maker's Mark 46 mixed with Coke. Might seem like a travesty to mix such a good bourbon with coke, but I have a sweet tooth and I like have the Coke to offset the taste a bit.

I don't usually drink alone. It's not a common thing. But I think I may have wanted it tonight. I let my hopes get up, and then had them dashed. It's been a while since I've had that kind of hope really. And I'm writing this blog post partly because I seem to deal with things by writing about them, and partly because I don't think anyone actually reads this blog.

A couple Sundays ago I went to a gamer convention... a tremendously geeky affair with tens of thousands of gamer geeks coming together in a place that according to Wil Wheaton is a kind of home for us. It's called PAX, or more specifically in this case: PAX East. I go to this convention every year it's been on the East coast because I am a gamer geek. I play World of Warcraft; I play Dungeons & Dragons; And I have a great love of games that help me escape the real world for a little while. Going to that convention is a bit of an escape for me too.

I should also mention that I've been alone for a long time. Yeah. Surprise there. The truth is that I fit the stereotype of a geek. I don't really know what I'm doing in social situations... especially the ones where there's a girl I might be attracted to. I really have no clue. I don't understand subtle clues. I don't really seem to notice the overt clues either. And when I'm in those situations I don't know what to expect, or what's expected of me. I'm like a geek in a dance club.

Anyway, going to PAX I can usually relax because I know exactly what to expect. It's bunch of people that share some common interests and who really care about being part of something that's pretty impressive. I don't think anyone there would turn down a request for aid from other convention goers. I think it's a good group of people. And I like being there. I do feel like I'm at home.

This year (April 6 to 8, 2012) wasn't different. It was a good time. Sunday more so than other days. The good stuff started when I found myself in line for the Penny Arcade Q&A which meant that I was also in line for the taping of the "X Play" show from the G4 channel. The X Play taping was first, and they weren't emptying the theater before the Penny Arcade Q&A so I stayed in line. I was so pleasantly surprised to find out that the X Play folks are a pretty fun group of people who talk games in an entertaining way. I guess it's their job, but not everyone does their job well. These people did. I might have ended up on TV because I got a good seat and the camera was on me a lot. I should find out. Anyway, it was a fun way to spend some time, and it was the start of my good Sunday.

Following the X Play taping was of course the Penny Arcade Question and Answer event. Every year they do one per day of the event (Q&A 1, Draw a Strip, and Q&A 2). And there's usually some good stuff. Good questions that get funny answers, or good questions that get heart-felt answers... it seems meaningful. Gabe and Tycho (the guys of Penny-Arcade: Mike and Jerry) stand up there on the stage and basically hang out with us. These are guys who share their humor and humanity with us through their web comic, but also through their charity Child's Play, and of course through the conventions they put on for people like me. They're good guys. And they make sure that they don't lose touch with their fans by putting themselves there for us to talk to and to ask questions of.

I feel like I should share this one because it made me tear up right there along with everyone else in the theater (except Jerry... because apparently according to Mike, Jerry has no heart). This one guy was first in line at the microphones to ask a question. He was in a wheel chair, and I had seen him before. He had asked questions at previous PAX events. This time he told a significant part of his story as a prelude to his question. He talked about how he fought cancer. Apparently it was really bad cancer because he was in the hospital for a long time, and he lost his legs to the cancer. I didn't even know that was possible, but I saw this guy up there in his wheel telling his story, and I don't question it. If that's all there was I could have gotten away with "nearly crying". He kept talking about how in his time in the hospital his hope got tarnished... and broken. But that was a lead in to how there was a Nintendo 64 in the hospital and how it was the only thing about any of his situation that helped him feel happy. It was the only thing he looked forward to. And he mentioned that the experience made him think about younger kids who had to go through the kind of thing he went through...

And I'm crying now just thinking about it. But that's what Child's Play does. It raises money to help make sure there are games for kids to play while they're in the hospital. It might not sound like much compared to charities set up for research into cures, but this guy that got in front of the microphone and told his story pointed out the importance of giving a child something to look forward to when doctors and life itself are telling you that it's probable you're going to die.

Mike and Jerry seemed to be in awe of the story as it was being told... and really... who could blame them? Mike was rubbing tears from his eyes. The man in the wheel chair ended his story and said that he was going to stand up for the first time at PAX (on prosthetic legs), and that what he wanted most as a result of standing up was to hug one of the guys from Penny Arcade. He just asked for hug.

Yeah. I'm still crying. A community that can have moments like that...

Anyway, the Q&A had many more questions and answers, and some of it was funny and there was even more emotionally charged content. It was time that I'm happy I was a part of. I wouldn't have missed it. And I'm hoping that by telling you about it, you can get an idea for how my day had started. It felt important and like I was part of something. It was already a good day.

But the icing on the cake was something else entirely. I met Cheryl.

I didn't mean to meet her. She was one of the "booth babes" at the Steel Battalion booth on the vendor floor. I was standing there watching the game being played on the machines they had set up there. I would have tried the game myself, but the line was estimated at 3+ hours. So I settled for watching the game being played. Looked like a good game. Cheryl walked up to me and asked if I wanted a temporary tattoo (a symbol from the game or something). I was amused and agreed to have the temporary tattoo put on.

Now normally, if I pretty girl talks to me that might potentially be available... I turn stupid. I mean flat out retarded to the point of being incapable of forming a complete sentence longer than two words. I'm pretty sure drool is normally involved. But in this case... she was a booth babe... and I have preconceptions about girls that work in jobs that require they use their appeal to market something. Bartenders and waitresses fall into this category. I'm fairly certain that in those kinds of scenarios, they get sick of being hit on pretty fast, and in a convention full of socially unskilled people (yeah... I'm sorry... it's part of being a geek), I guessed she was done with being hit on. As a result my mind never even considered the possibility of flirting with her. I was really there to watch the game.

After she put the tattoo on me, she talked to me a little about the game, and obviously that's part of her job too: sell the game. So I didn't think anything of it, and as a result, I was able to relax. I was myself. If I had thought for a moment that there was a chance I could take this girl on a date, I would immediately have devolved into a drooling mess. But it wasn't an option, and it didn't occur to me. I was just myself. We talked a bit about how even as a person working the booth she hadn't had a chance to try the game, but that she wanted to. This surprised me a little. Pretty girls aren't interested in video games... especially not combat oriented ones (I'm sure there are pretty girls who are... just saying that the probability of meeting one is low). I called her on it, and she was quick to say she was not a gamer, but that the game looked fun. She then told me about how she got addicted to Zelda when it came out on original Nintendo, smong other games as game systems progressed. I was amused at her claiming to not be a gamer while telling me about the games she played.

And we just kept talking. I'm pretty sure she was supposed to talk to other people at the booth as time went on, but we just kept talking. And it was nice. I enjoyed myself. But it eventually ended. Her coworker (one of the other booth babes) told her that she was supposed to take a break now, and I got to thinking about dinner with the friends I had come to the convention with. At this point... I still wasn't thinking about Cheryl as a potential friend or more.

I am an idiot.

And I started thinking about that right after I got to the meeting point for dinner. It bothered me enough that I went and found some paper and a pen to write my contact information on. I was planning on giving it to one of her coworkers in hopes that they would give it to her and in hopes that she would get in touch with me. Instead... I waited at the booth for her break to finish. I saw her, and she was doing her job talking to people. And I remember smiling. What's more, when I walked up to her, she smiled as widely as I was. It turned out she had been thinking the same thing. Right after leaving for her break she had made an effort to come back to find me. She was happy I had come back. She took my contact info, and because it was near the end of the convention, and because it was Easter she had things to do after the convention. I would hear from her soon.

And I did. We texted a bit on the following Tuesday, and talked on the phone on Wednesday a lot. We talked for hours and there was enough laughter to cause hurting cheeks and breathlessness. It was good. And I have to point out that I HATE talking on the phone. I hate it. I avoid it whenever possible, even with close friends. I hate it. But with Cheryl, I wasn't nervous or uncomfortable. That's something I should focus on a little. Somehow, with Cheryl I wasn't terrified of her finding out more about me. I guess it related to the fact that she already knew I was a geek. She already knew I am a gamer. She already knew the stuff that I'm nervous about telling any girl that might be interested in me. And seemed to like talking to me anyway. And my desire to keep talking to her over-rode my desire to get off the phone. I really do hate talking on the phone.

So anyway, we made plans to meet at the New England Aquarium for a date on the following Saturday. We settled on it because I mentioned I hadn't been in a while, and she liked the idea. the other reason it was good was because it was about half way between us. That's the sad part really... Boston is the halfway point in a 2 hour drive between us. It was the first thing I became aware of that might be an obstacle to this "thing" turning into a relationship. But I didn't think too hard about it. I wanted to spend time with this girl... and she was the first person ever that I ignored my dislike of Massachusetts and long drives for.

We met at the aquarium, and I think we had a pretty good time walking through the place looking at the fish, the penguins, and the 600 pound 70 year old turtle. I think it was a nice time even though the aquarium seemed smaller than I remembered it. We went for a walk and had lunch in Faneuil Hall at a Mexican food place. It was really good actually. I had a shrimp and red cabbage taco that was spectacular. It was delicious.

After lunch we went to the imax theater they have to see one of the 3D movies which turned out to be a thinly veiled attempt at making us feel guilty for polluting our planet. So the movie wasn't great, but we both laughed about it.

And then we didn't have much to do, but it didn't feel like the date was over yet. If we had been closer to home I would have invited her over and made dinner for her or something. If I had known Boston better maybe I could have come up with an option, but this was an awkward point in the date where I just didn't know what to do. We ended up discussing how we live two hours apart, and how when her school schedule picks up, she won't have any free time. At all. The combination of no free time, and a possible 2 hour drive between us was making me sad right there on the date. I didn't know what to do about that. I think I was floundering a bit. I don't think it was my finest hour.

We ended up at a bar nearby. Coincidentally, that bar was the one where one of my company Christmas parties was held (with other embarrassing stories to be told). If anyone actually is reading this... it was an XOS Christmas party, where I failed to understand some signs from a pretty coworker... anyway... another story... another time...

So Cheryl and I were at this bar. And the bartender was a friendly guy who knew his job. He was good at easy conversation, and it started to make me feel like I was failing. I wasn't the most interesting seeming guy there. I couldn't hate him... he seemed nice, and was just doing his job. But I felt like I was losing ground. I guess I knew after the conversation about distance and time issues that something was wrong, and I let it show in my behavior. I may have already given up at this point. Stupid.

I didn't want to though. Cheryl showed me that women that I can really be interested in do actually exist. Intelligent, a little geeky, beautiful, friendly... I didn't want to fail. I had let myself feel hope for this one despite the obstacles. I didn't care about the obstacles... or rather... I wanted to find ways around the obstacles.

Today, I sent her a text asking if she could see me again this weekend. And her response was... honest and forthright. It also hurt. Probably more than I want to admit to myself. I cried watching One Tree Hill. The songs I sang in Rock Band were sad ones. And I almost forced myself to remember the story of the man at PAX that survived cancer and only asked for a hug. Cheryl told me that she only felt a platonic connection, and that the distance may have played a part.

I let my hopes get so high. Meeting her was so amazing to me. I guess the situation wasn't right, and apparently I'm not what she's looking for... but it was was a moment where I believed again for a little while that I could meet someone amazing. Hope. I'm not sure I can make it clear enough that I felt hope, and that it's such an unusual thing for me. I let myself be vulnerable... to feel something... and my first foray into that arena in a long time ended with me feeling sad at work... in a way I didn't know how to deal with. I ignored it at work. I came home, had dinner and watched TV... I cried. I guess the writing for the show is good enough to get that reaction from me, but I think it was for something else that I cried. I wanted to cry. I needed to cry. And I needed to write this blog entry.

I deal with things poorly I guess. Writing about them helps. Some. As I draw this blog entry to a close, I find myself wondering how to get people to read it. I find myself hoping to get a response from someone. Maybe compassion. Maybe pity. Just something to make me think that someone agrees that what I went through had some meaning and that it was sad. I know it's not like the guy who survived cancer. But I am sad. And having people try to comfort me would help I think, even if there's nothing anyone can do. I'm going to resist the urge to post this on facebook... I think mostly so my mom doesn't read this story. I don't feel like enduring her concern. She'd say something about this, and try to help. I didn't tell her anything about it for a reason, even when I thought things were good.

And I'm writing this post to the internet because I don't really feel like I do have a person to talk to about this kind of thing. My friends are married (or at least attached), and some have kids. Some have moved away. And I'm left alone. I've been alone for a long time. I guess that's just how it has to be. I'm tired of it... but I don't know how to change it.

Being alone for a long time... I think it's had a negative effect on me. I guess it's possible to survive alone. I'm doing it. But I'm not happy. Maybe if you're reading this what you can take from this long post is that if you have the chance to be happy with someone... take it. Because being alone for years... it's not a great way to live.