Well… vacation is over. It was wonderful, although not nearly long enough.

Friday, afternoon, Jules and I went out to my mom and dad’s house for the weekend. We were both really excited. I don’t get to see my family nearly enough, and there is nothing more relaxing than spending a weekend out there. This trip didn’t disappoint.

On Friday, I ran my dad out to get his vehicle at his place of work. He retired from a major automotive corporation this year, and has been working for a guy he knows for a while now. (My dad is one of those guys who can’t stand to sit around, and will probably work until the day he dies.) He showed me his shop, and I was amazed. He and my brothers fix tractor trailers that have been wrecked or damaged. Dad is one of the world’s top welders (really), and when he started describing all of the stuff he did to these monstrosities, my eyes kinda glazed over. If you rolled up a wrecked tractor trailer and told me to fix it, I wouldn’t even know where to begin. Dad, however, was able to make them look like new again. It was unreal.

Jules and I also brought our bikes out there, and on Saturday morning, we went for a ride at the local state park. (“We” consisted of me, Jules, and my brothers Matt and Jake.) It didn’t take me long to figure out that I was in much better shape than I’d led myself to believe. No more than five minutes into the ride, Matt had stopped and was sitting on the side of the road, huffing and puffing like a freight train. He gradually slid further and further down, until he was lying on his back in the ditch.

I thought it was great. Matt likes to give people shit a lot, so when I have an opportunity to reciprocate, I’m always certain to take full advantage. After all, that’s what older siblings are for, right?

I leaned over him with a blatant lack of mercy and grinned from ear-to-ear. “How ya doin?” I asked. I received moans, and something incomprehensible in response. This was followed by, “Unnnh… I’m gonna throw up.”

He didn’t throw up, although I was certain he was going to have poison ivy in places he didn’t know he had. Finally we moved on, and I stopped every so often to make sure that I could still see him behind us. Matt later declared that bike riding was not a pastime he intended to take up. He was found lying in the ditch on two more occasions. On the third, Jake and I walked back down the massive hill we’d just ascended. As we neared the bottom, I saw a tire sticking up out of the grass to the right of the trail. As we approached, I saw Matt had lay down on top of his bike and was moaning again. Showing the utmost sympathy, I picked up a large stick and poked at him with it.

“Do you think it’s alive?” I asked Jake.

“I don’t know,” he responded.

“This certainly doesn’t appear to be its natural habitat,” I went on. “I wonder how it got this far. You’d normally see a specimen like this in a darkened bedroom surrounded by video games and computer hacking ezines.”  Jake agreed, and took a few pictures on his cell phone for good measure.

Finally, we made it back to the starting point, where my dad and other brother, Josh, were waiting for us. Josh had decided to purchase a bike in our absence. Matt drove home in the Durango, and Josh and my dad joined us on another attempted ride.

We did much better this time. We made it all the way around the trail. We rode about 15 miles over the course of the day. It was a lot of fun, although we were worn out and starving by the time we got back home. Luckily, mom had fixed a huge dinner for all of us.

The remainder of the time spent at home consisted of talking, eating, discussing wedding stuff, and playing board games. We all played a lot of board games while we were there.  Scattergories, Taboo, Last Word, Boggle, Apples to Apples, and Smart Ass, to name a few.  It was a good time.

It always sucks when we have to leave.  The weekends never seem long enough.  It certainly provided some much needed relaxation, though.  Hopefully, we’ll get to go back soon.

Hope you all had a great weekend as well!

I got something kind of aggravating in the mail a couple of days ago.  I didn’t open it until just now.

Looks like a perfectly normal donation request, right?  Let me explain why it’s a bit aggravating to me, and you can tell me if you think I’m way off base or not.

Years back, my best friend’s nephew was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma disease, a form of cancer.  As you can imagine, this was devastating news to the family.  I’m happy to report that today, though, he is now cancer-free.  To look at him, you would’ve never known there was anything wrong.  He’s upbeat, has a good sense of humor, and enjoys life.

The family continues to participate in cancer walks, charitable events, and other things to raise money for charity.  One day a couple of years ago, the nephew’s mom sent me (and everyone else) an invitation on Facebook to donate money to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, which I was happy to do.  Ever since then, I’ve received mailings like the one pictured above.  I haven’t really minded up until now, and I was happy to support the cause.

“Why is it starting to get old?” you ask?  It’s not that I mind donating to a worthy cause.  It’s because of what is inside the envelope.

The letter inside reads as follows.

How can five cents help save a child’s life?  Let me tell you…

Dear Mr. Conway, I’ve included a nickel to make a point.

You and I both know that a single nickel won’t go far in the fight against blood cancers.  But even nickels can quickly add up.  And if you invest those nickels in blood cancer research that is searching for cures, you could save not only one child but thousands of patients!

Since the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society was founded in 1949, donations from people like you have helped us invest millions in the fight to find cures for blood cancers.  Today, 89% of children under 15 with the most common childhood leukemia will survive with treatment.

But we must find cures for all blood cancers.  Please won’t you help save a child or adult by sending us a donation today?  Thank you very much for your generosity.  With your help we will continue to put your dollars to work providing help and hope to thousands!

Nancy Klein,
Chief Marketing and Revenue Officer

Sounds perfectly reasonable, right?  So you’re probably wondering what my beef is with it.  My first issue is that it’s a real nickel they included with the mailing.  It’s not really worth much, but as they stated in the letter, nickels quickly add up.  This is a huge organization.  If they sent out 100,000 of these letters (and they probably sent many more than that), that’s $5,000 just in nickels alone.  Although not a huge amount, that’s a decent chunk of money.

But that’s not all.  Also enclosed with the letter were a couple sheets of fall-themed mailing labels with my personalized name and address printed on them.  I’ve bought things like this before online when Jonny and I had our business, and they had cost right around $10 or so.  While I’m sure there these were printed in-house, and probably cost less than that to produce, they’re still sending them out to thousands of people, which also adds up.

All of this probably sounds pretty negative, I realize, and it’s not my intent to knock charities.  I’m sure there’s some kind of business model wrapped around it, where they come out ahead in the end.  I just really wish they would’ve kept the money they spent to print all of the mailing labels and sent it to a child with cancer who needs help more than I need stickers that I’ll probably never use.

Finally… and the thing that really charred my ass was this.  I did some research on the organization to see how much money they brought in, how much was being allocated to what, etc.  Did you know that their previous CEO, who retired in 2008, was making an annual salary of $546,654?  More than half a million dollars of the money donated to cancer patients went into the pocket of their CEO.  Essentially, I could’ve written a check for five hundred grand with the intent of saving a child’s life, and it could have very well been handed straight to the CEO so he could go have drinks and play golf (or whatever executives do).  And that’s just the CEO.  I’m sure there are other executives that received sizable paychecks as well.

Again, I’m sure I’ll receive hate mail on this one.  I don’t claim to have any kind of business degree, or experience running a charity.  I fully understand that there are overhead costs with any organization – including supporting folks who devote all of their time to running it.  I will most certainly continue to donate to the cause as well.  I just wish that more of the money would go to people in need who are going through the same thing my buddy’s nephew went through.

What do you think?  I’m I just being stupid and negative? If so, tell me. I would like to understand this better. I know that this charity has helped many many people, and like I said, I will most certainly continue to send them money. I also know that they aren’t the only ones. I researched a few other well-known charities, and their financial breakdowns look similar. I just wish that more of the money actually made it into the pockets of those in need.

I walked out the door today, and was almost startled by the cooler air when it hit me.  It was about 70 degrees and absolutely gorgeous, in stark contrast to the miserably hot weeks we’ve had leading up to now.  Glancing at the calendar on my desktop, I can see why.  We have less than a week left in August.  Fall is right around the corner.

Although I love this time of year, it’s always a somewhat bittersweet feeling for me.  On one hand, the weather is beautiful, and I always try to spend as much time outdoors as I can.  On the other hand, I always seem to look at what remains of the quickly-fading summer and think to myself, “Where did it all go?”  Right before the onset of the summer months, I always build up my hopes and start imagining all of the fun “summer stuff” that we will all get to do.  Images of barbeques, float trips, ballgames, camping, and other summer-based activities run through my head.  Unfortunately, life always seems to throw itself between me, my friends, and my plans.  We never get to do as much as I hope, due to conflicting work schedules, family commitments, etc.

Don’t get me wrong.  We’ve certainly had float trips, cookouts, and ballgames to attend, just not as many as I had envisioned in my mind’s eye.  I suppose the whole idea of “summer vacation” evaporates once you graduate from school and enter the real world.

Also, for some reason, I always tend to become very introspective around this time of year.  I don’t really know why, and I can’t explain it, but I always tend to take a step back and look at my life when summer begins to draw to a close.  I always feel very grateful for my family, friends, and loved ones, and generally feel a twinge of sadness when I stop to look at how I don’t really get to see them as much as I used to.  Maybe it’s the fact that I realize how little I get to see everyone through the summer that brings this to the forefront in my mind.

Also for some reason, the whole, “I want to write,” mindset has been creeping up on me over the past few weeks.  I’ve always said that if I could choose any job in the world, it would be to be a successful writer.  I say “successful” because it’s a known fact that most people generally don’t make a lot of money writing unless they are either extremely gifted or extremely lucky.  Still, it’s always been something I’ve loved to do.

It’s kind of like the movie Office Space.  The three main characters are sitting around talking about how they hate their jobs.  One of them mentions that his high school counselor gave him some advice.

“Our high school guidance counselor used to ask us what you’d do if you had a million dollars and you didn’t have to work. And invariably, what you’d say was supposed to be your career. So, if you wanted to fix old cars you’re supposed to be an auto mechanic.”

My answer?  Mine would be, “I would write.”  After all, here I am on my vacation, and look at what I’m doing right this second.  I’m writing a blog.  All through my childhood, I was always writing short stories and showing them to my mom with pride.  Even now, I write on occasion, just for the hell of it.  It’s just something I’ve always enjoyed.

I’ve always said that I would love to write a book.  Lately, I’ve been giving some serious thought to it.  I’ve always had little patience for people who are all talk; the ones who carry on incessantly about things they’d like to do.  My response is always, “So do it!  Either do it, or shut up about it.”  Well… I’m thinking of taking my own advice and giving it a shot.  I certainly don’t plan on becoming rich or famous, or quitting my day job.  If I happen to get lucky, and some publishing company out there decides to pick it up, even better.  But for now, it is just something I would do for my own personal enjoyment.  In case you haven’t looked around lately, the real world tends to suck from time-to-time.  To me, there’s nothing more satisfying than slipping away into your own world that you’ve created in your mind.

I have people backing me as well.  I’ve mentioned it to Jules, and she’s said I should go for it if I wanted to.  Even Jonny, my friend who I thought would laugh hysterically about the idea, was totally on board.  I’ve been doing more and more reading lately.  I even spent a few hours at the library today, gathering ideas and jotting down thoughts.

So yeah… there could be a book on the horizon.  I’m not entirely decided on the subject or genre as of yet, but I figure things will fall into place once I get going.  After all, if it turns out to be terrible, no one will see it but me!

Anyway, this concludes Mike’s self-reflection and goal analysis for today.  I’m going to go eat dinner and watch the Cardinals game.  I hope all of you are having a great week.

Behold Julia’s latest creation.

That’s a normal-sized cupcake holder next to it, just to give you some perspective.  The plan is stick one of these bad boys on top of the cupcake tree at our wedding.

Jules and I are going out to my parents’ house this weekend, and she’s taking her jumbo cupcake pan with her.  As you can imagine, my siblings are most excited.

Yesterday, Jules and I took a tour of the Anheuser-Busch brewery here in St. Louis.  Since it’s one of the things that STL is famous for, we figured we should probably go check it out.

There was a lot to see.  After a short introduction on how the company was founded, they took us outside and showed us the Clydesdales.  Afterward, they showed us some of the huge fermenting tanks they use for finishing the beer.  They are enormous.  After some more walking around the scenic grounds, we got an overview of how the beer is made, from start to finish.  They then took us up to the top and showed us the factory portion where the beer is actually produced.  Right after that, we actually got to walk out onto a small section of the factory floor and see the machines up close and personal.  And of course, after a ride back, we got to sample two beers of our choice.  (When they said “sample,” I expected Dixie Cup-sized portions, but they actually gave you full glasses.)

Overall, it was a cool experience.  I figured I’d share some of the photos I took.  (You can click on any of them for the full-sized version.)

Guess who has this week off.  THIS guy! 

It’s a much-needed vacation.  I love my job, but sometimes we all need a break.  Last week was a perfect example of why.  It was one of those weeks where absolutely nothing worked the way it was supposed to, and 80% of the people I dealt with seemed to be from another planet.  I was also on-call last week, so I had several things I got to work on early in the morning last week as well.  (Meaning “3am-early-in-the-morning.”)

I tore out the door Friday after work, ready to be out of there.  On the way home, I cranked up my “rage” song and sang along loudly.  Do you guys (and gals) do that?  Do you have a loud, edgy song with obscene or threatening lyrics that you crank up after an ugly day of work?  Mine is a little ditty entitled Die Motherf***er, Die.  It’s wonderfully therapeutic.

I slept in until shortly after 9 this morning.  It felt great.  Jules walked through, and when she noticed me awake, she ran in, jumped on the bed, and gave me a big hug.  What a great way to start the morning. 

And what a morning it is.  It’s currently 73 degrees outside, and it’s supposed to be a beautiful day.  I’m excited.  Julia and I are going to go tour the Anheuser-Busch brewery today.  It’s supposed to be really fun and interesting, and we’ve wanted to go for a while.  (Not not to mention that they give you free beer samples!  *grin*)  Jules took a few days off with me this week as well.

Vacation is off to a great start!

I really don’t think any explanation is necessary here.

First of all, y’all will be pleased to know that I survived Jonny’s birthday party/float trip this past weekend.  It was a lot of fun, and it was so nice to be able to relax for a while.

This week is going by quickly so far.  Already two days down.

Midway through the day today, I got an IM from a co-worker of mine named Nishonda.  Her son plays on a little league football team and wanted to know if I would help her with a team website.   I was more than happy to say yes.  After all, I owe her a lot.

You see, Nishonda is the one who hired me into the company where I work.

Let’s backtrack about five years.  I was going to tech school and working at the local Wal-Mart about 20 minutes from my hometown.  (Where I’m from, that’s “local.”)  I absolutely hated working with the public, and my patience was running thin (as well as my wallet).  I desperately wanted a good job.

One day, the career services folks walked around the school and told us about a career fair that they were sponsoring.  It was held at a nearby hotel, and they invited local businesses to bring their hiring crew in to speak with us, shake hands, take applications, etc.

I arrived at the fair on the evening of the event, dressed in a tie for maybe the third time in my life, and toting a folder full of resumes printed on fancy paper.  I made my way through the aisles, stopping at each booth, picking up brochures, and introducing myself.  I grew more and more discouraged as I went.  90% of the people there wanted to hire people with at least a couple of years’ experience in the IT field.  I’d hand out my resume and watch them stuff it into an expandable folder with a few hundred others.

I reached a large booth on the far end and took a gander at it.  It was for a large, fairly well-known company in our area.  I’d heard the name many times, but didn’t really realize what they did.  I listened as the enthusiastic gentleman explained what the company did, and I got really excited.  It sounded challenging, and exactly what I would like to do.  I figured my chances of getting hired were slim to none, but handed him my resume anyway.

I felt pretty frustrated when I left that evening.  Several weeks went by, and I heard nothing from anyone.

Then, one weekend afternoon, I was lying in bed taking a nap, when my phone rang.  Groggily, I looked at the number and answered with a half-asleep, “Hello?”

The voice on the other end explained that she was from the company I’d been so excited about at the career fair.  I frantically tried to pull myself into consciousness, and greeted her enthusiastically.

Over the next ten minutes or so, she proceeded to interview me over the phone.  I felt I was doing alright, but my confidence level dropped every time she asked me, “How much experience to you have with [insert random technology here]?”  My response was always along the lines of, “I have studied this in great detail in my classes, but unfortunately, I have limited real-world experience.”  She was very friendly and professional.  She must have sensed my confidence dropping, because she reassured me, “Oh, that’s perfectly alright!  We have a large number of positions here, so I’m just trying to get a feel for which one you might best be suited.”

After the phone interview, she thanked me and told me that she’d be in touch within the next week or so.

Needless to say, I was quite surprised when my phone rang again no more than a few hours later, and I was told that they’d really like for me to come in for a face-to-face interview with the manager of their support center.

I was ecstatic and terrified at the same time.  As you can imagine, interviewing at a company like this is a little bit different than submitting an application down at the local Wal-Mart.  I spent several nights studying every textbook I had in my possession.  I had no idea what types of questions they would ask.  I spent hours researching the company, their history, their executives, and everything I could find about them.

Finally, the day of my interview arrived.  I put on a tie for the fourth time in my life and headed out.  When I walked through the doors of the building, I was amazed to see the marble floors, lighted waterfall columns, and men in suits.  This was a much snazzier work environment than I was used to seeing.  I went up to the receptionist, and she called the manager with which I’d be interviewing.

She took me up to one of the offices and talked with me.  I was glad I had studied up on the company, as the first question she asked was, “So, what do you know about us?”  I went on for a couple of minutes about the things I’d studied, and she nodded in approval, seemingly a bit surprised that I knew so much of the company’s history.  She smiled as she looked at my resume, and said, “Wow… you’ve worked at Wal-Mart for six years?  That’s impressive!  If you can hold a job there for that long, you should certainly be able to hold a job here!”

She went on to discuss my customer service background, my education, and my goals.  She only asked me three very basic technical questions, which I answered with ease.  I felt good when the interview was over, and she said she’d get back to me within two weeks.

Talk about being on pins and needles!  I got in my car and started the hour-and-a-half drive home.  I didn’t know if I would be able to make it through the two weeks without knowing.

Luckily, I didn’t have to wait long.  I got a call back that evening around 6 pm.  It was the manager I’d interviewed with earlier in the day.  I almost dropped the phone when she said that she’d like to offer me the position.  I believe I even said, “Really???” in disbelief.  She then told me what they’d be offering salary-wise, and I got even more excited.  As you can imagine, it was more than the meager wages I was earning at Wal-Mart.

Within a couple of days on the job, I had met Nishonda, whom with I’d interviewed over the phone.  She is a lively, funny lady, and you can’t help but like her.  Over the next few years, I got to know her.  She always asked how I was doing, how my family was doing, how I was liking the job, etc.  She was a very, very sweet lady.

Looking back at the timeline of events, I realize that I owe her a lot.  I spoke with at least 30 people at that career fair.  Out of all of them, she was the only one who gave me a chance.  After that phone interview, she made the decision to give me, the nervous interviewee with zero real-world experience, an opportunity to work there.  She could have just as easily thrown my resume in the trash and said, “No, we don’t want him.”

If the latter had happened, my life would probably be much different right now.  I would probably still be living down home, and working at a crappy job that I didn’t enjoy.  I never would have moved up here to the area in which I now live, which means that I more than likely would have never met my soon-to-be wife, my best buddy, and all of the people I know now.  I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to move up at my company and get the awesome position that I now have.  I wouldn’t have had all of the good times and awesome experiences I’ve had up here.  The list goes on.

Isn’t it crazy how a split-second yes-or-no decision can have such an enormous impact on someone’s life?

So yeah… I was more than happy to help Nishonda with her website tonight. 

What a bear of a week.  The boss was out, everyone needed something right now, and I feel like I’ve spent more time helping other people do their crap than actually taking care of my own.

But this is now all in the past.  The weekend is before me… and I’m pretty happy about it.

Julia is gone this weekend.  That part I’m not happy about.  Her sister is throwing  a bridal shower for her over in her hometown in Illinois, and she’s staying with her parents.  I miss her, but I’m sure she’s having a good time.  She took a friend of hers from work with her, who is apparently quite excited to witness livestock for the first time in her life.  She’s a very lively, energetic gal, so I’m sure it was a fun ride out there.

God love Julia, though.  She apparently knows me well.  I was hungry last night, and went into the kitchen to look for something to eat.  Opening the freezer, I saw frozen pizza, hot pockets, chicken strips, and plenty of other microwave-ready meals that I could consume in her absence.  I love her.

I slept in this morning.  After chowing down on the second half of my previously-frozen pizza last night, I caught up on some blog reading.  I’m mentally gearing up for tonight and tomorrow.

Tonight, Naomi is having a surprise get-together for Jonny.  (It was his birthday on Thursday.)  There will be much beer, food, and fun.  I’ll be staying out there tonight, because tomorrow morning, we are going on a float trip.  I’ve already been advised that I’m taking shots (plural) prior to getting in the canoe.  I’m a little scared.  It’s been a long time since I’ve drank more than a couple of beers at a restaurant.  It should certainly make for an interesting time.

Hope you all have a good weekend!

Apparently, I speak like a hick.  I never thought this was the case, but a native St. Louisan, whom I work with, seems to think it is.

I actually started wondering about a year or so ago.  My employer had a big meeting where they brought in a bunch of security engineers.  Being a global company, these engineers live all over the country, and a couple of them live on the other side of the world.  I had never met many of them, but I’d spoken with most of them over the phone at some point during my day-to-day routine.  One of them came down to visit during one of their breaks, and he invited me up to meet the gang.  I like putting names with faces, so I happily accepted the invitation.

I walked into the tiny room that was crammed packed with engineers, and they enthusiastically greeted me.  I introduced myself, and one of them cocked his head and looked at me.

“Where are you from?” he asked.

“Here,” I responded, a bit confused.

Technically, I’m originally from about an hour and a half south of “here,” but it’s all the same to me.  (We Missourians are also famous for measuring distance in time, rather than miles.)

“I was just curious,” he continued.  “You have an accent.”

I just kinda laughed and brushed it off.  No one had ever told me I have an accent.  Maybe this dude was just hearing things.

I didn’t think much more of it until a couple of months later.  A bunch of guys were talking, and I heard my name mentioned.  Poking my head over the cubicle wall, I asked what was up.  One of them replied, “We were just talking about how people talk, and how you can tell you’re from southern Missouri.”

“You have that Ozark accent,” another informed me.

I’ve never really noticed that I sound any differently than anyone else.  My family, however, is a different story.

My brother, Matt, called me one night to ask me a computer question.  I listened to him describe his issue to me, and couldn’t help but grin.  Matt generally doesn’t get very excited about anything, and tends to talk somewhat slowly.  On this particular night, he spoke with a twang unlike I’d ever heard from him.  I started to wonder if maybe I once talked like that as well, but have slowly adapted to the “tongue of the big city.”  (Well… suburbs at least.)

I will admit, I’ve had my moments.  Beginning in the sixth grade or so, I had to start forcing myself to say “wash” instead of “warsh.”  I also vividly recall getting into an argument with my first grade teacher as a young child.  She asked me to spell the word “things.”

“T-H-A-N-G-S,” I proudly replied.

“No, Mike.  It’s actually, ‘T-H-I-N-G-S.”

“No, it’s T-H-A-N-G-S!”

“It has an ‘I’ in it, not an ‘A’,” she calmly replied.  “With the ‘eee’ sound.  It’s not thangs is it?”

“Yes!  It is!”

I blame my mother.  If I had a dollar for every time she’s asked me to go get a “fark” and a spoon out of the kitchen drawer, I probably wouldn’t be working right now.

So I dunno.  Maybe one of these days, I will have to post an audio blog, and you all can give me feedback on my supposed “Southern Missouri accent.”