Looking into your eyes
I know I'm right
If there's anything worth my love
It's worth a fight

We only get one chance
And nothing ties our hands
You're what I want, listen to me
Nothing I want's out of my reach

Heaven helps the man who fights his fear
Love's the only thing that keeps me here
(I'm free)
You're the reason that I'm hanging on
My heart's staying where my heart belongs
(I'm free)

Running away will never make you free
And nothing we sign is any kind of guarantee

I wanna hold you now
I won't hold you down
Shaking the past
Making my breaks
Taking control
That's what it takes

What i'm listening to:

I’m Free (Heaven Helps the Man)
Kenny Loggins
Footloose

As I get older, the one thing I’m learning is that I can actually only claim to know very little—about anything.

The more I learn, the less I know.

As such, I believe I am learning to understand some things innately. Which is cool, because I hate thinking.

However, I will never understand how to make a car seat comfortable. Especially for long drives.

There are millions of combinations, like a Rubik’s cube. And what’s comfortable and makes you go, “Ahhhhhh…” right now—can feel like a dagger in your spine or hip a couple hundred miles down the road.

Why. is. this. so. hard?

I have had my current car for five years, and I have yet to find that sweet spot. Perhaps I never will…

Life in the north woods of Wisconsin is changing me.

I don’t mind, to be honest.

I find I’m becoming a morning person—lately, I’m up around 5:30 am. And I’m becoming more outdoorsy. I’m losing weight. And I’m running.

No, I’m not ready for a marathon yet… nor even a 5k… but what started as a four-mile daily walk—something else I never used to do—has become, well, more.

You could say, I’m losing the COVID-19 and returning to the best shape of my life. Even if I’m still basking in my solitude™.

Experiencing the great outdoors of northern Wisconsin, however, has introduced me to a truly evil insect. Seriously.

I find myself daydreaming of the glory days of DDT, or wishing for some Delta-9 nerve gas. Anything to create a poison cloud around my person.

It doesn’t have to be big, by any means. All it has to do is drop any insect that enters it dead. to. the. ground.

Instantly.

Or at least cause it to pass out.

Instantly.

If you’ve ever lived or visited this far north, you may have figured out that I’m referring to deer flies. Wretched and annoying little creatures. And why do their bites take five weeks (and counting) to heal?

So, I’ve been conducting a li’l research on how to cope with these buggers. Off doesn’t help. Information from a web search says that deer flies do not smell, so stinky repellent won’t keep them away. They’re attracted to your movement, not your scent.

As a fledgling runner, I cannot hope to outrun them. Hell, were I experienced, I couldn’t hope to outrun them. After all, they’re called “deer flies” for a reason. And deer are pretty fast.

Another option is to get up before they do. Yes, that’s funny, but yes, that’s really a thing. I did discover that the deer flies are less “bad” if I go for my run sometime around thirty minutes before dawn to about an hour after… at which point the sun rises above the trees. Odd, considering I seem to encounter most of these nuisances in the shade.

Next, I adopted a hoodie. Wearing long pants and a hoodie are actually quite effective—the only caveat being if a curious deer fly manages to find her way, and get trapped somewhere inside the hood.

Okay, there’s another caveat. Running in seventy degree weather with a hoodie causes a level of sweat that I’m not accustomed to. Plus, it adds considerable weight to my frame for the run.

Frankly, I’m just tired of being hot and sweaty. It’s been enough of a deterrent to keep me from enjoying my run many days.

Those days, it is beginning to feel something is missing.

Kelly was right when she said the days she decides not to run or workout end up being “off” days. Have I mentioned that she has inspired me to pursue this?

Today, I tried something new. I found a spray that has no scent (at least that I can detect). Apparently, it has an ingredient derived from black pepper, which the deer flies do not like the taste of.

Definitely worth a try, so I covered my head, arms and legs with a layer, threw on a t-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts, and headed out. “Go big, or go home,” right?

Well, the flies were still out there. And they still pursued me. I could feel them bouncing off the back of my head, and occasionally landing.

However, they didn’t stick around long. And there were less. I made it four miles, and have yet to find a single bite.

Fingers crossed, that this solution will continue to be effective. And I can continue to enjoy my trail runs.

If not? Well, bring on the black market DDT. Or Delta-9. Where is Goldfinger when you need him?

What i'm listening to:

The Border
America
Your Move

Today, in the coffee shop, I met a girl named Alexa.

I spared her the Amazon Echo jokes–as bad as I wanted to ask her to play a song. I’m certain she hears enough of them.

I guess you never really know if you’re name will become a household phenomenon when you’re in your twenties.

And it’s unfortunate when a girl’s name distracts from her amazing ass.

Fourteen years later, and not a single result from the Google can confirm or deny this.

Yet it’s true. I swear I’m not going mad. About this anyway.

Every 168 hours, my original AppleTV reboots. Inexplicably.

I don’t know why. No one else has ever written about this apparent “feature.”

Yet it does. Every 168 hours. Seven days. One week.

And I’ve had three of these AppleTVs (they really are the best). And every week, every one of them reboots.

So, why am I writing about this fourteen years later?

Well, you see, I brought one of these glorious devices with me into my tiny cottage in the woods. A guy should be able to watch Zack Snyder’s Justice League when he wants, after all.

The AppleTV I selected for this adventure has lost her way. Thanks to the weekly reboot, I came home to the blinking amber light.

It’s stuck. In a reboot loop. I need to pop out and replace the backup battery, that’ll fix it.

But…

IF my AppleTV didn’t insist on rebooting every 168 hours, we wouldn’t be stuck. In a reboot loop.

It was fat and happy when I left for work earlier.

Apple. has. lost. it’s. way. Period.

And I’d still like to know I’m not the only person in the world who has noticed this behavior (or maybe I truly am). And I’d love to know why it exists. And I’d love to find a way to override it. And I’d love to see an uptime of, say, 169 hours on an AppleTV.

Just. Once.

What i'm listening to:

I’ll Never Let You Go
Steelheart
Steelheart

Today, I learned that I am not allergic to wasps.

If only my mosquito bites didn’t take weeks/months to heal.

I’m certain I’ve admitted this in the past… I am a (recovering) nerd.

I obsess about music. And collecting it. And no one seems to know how to tag it. Or make cohesive playlists.

I do.

To help me with this endeavor, I enlist the assistance of an ancient PowerMac G4. It’s fair to say it’s been my daily driver for over a decade, even though it has fallen out of Apple’s ecosystem nearly that long ago.

Why have I held on to it? There are many reasons…

It’s utterly expandable. True, it’s maxed out on RAM and the OS provides some limitations that require a lot of creativity and finesse. Yet, unlike recent Mac hardware, it is comfortably holding twelve terabytes of space. Plus, aesthetically, it’s beautiful. A reminder of the golden days of Apple.

And I can keep going/adding space. Which is crucial with an always growing media library.

The other reason is iTunes 10. When Apple redesigned iTunes for version 11, they removed some features I consider critical. Especially where smart playlists are concerned.

It’s likely safe to say that organization of playlists lost priority when Apple Music became a gleam in someone’s eye. All hail the mighty subscription! But I digress… that’s a topic for another day.

I can no longer control the order of songs on a smart playlist that auto updates. And the default is alphabetical by either artist or album. Neither is useful on a long road trip with your iPod as your DJ.

So, why am I compelled to write about this today?

Well, holding on to this ancient Mac has it’s disadvantages… and SSD technology has evolved to create some wonderful workarounds.

The G4 is heavy. And it consumes a lot of electricity—at least compared to say, a MacBook or Mac Mini. And it’s heavy.

As someone who’s freeing himself from anchors and working to become more nomadic, it just doesn’t have a place in my life direction. Not a sustainable one, anyway.

So, it’s time to branch out. Will I maintain separate branches of my iTunes library? And track/backport any changes for that day I pull it out of storage and recommision it? Or will I grow weary of extra maintenance over my music collection obsession?

Or will it be some odd combination of both?

And will I lose tracking of the iPod(s) play counts of songs?

I guess it’s time to find out.

What i'm listening to:

Bad Habits
Ed Sheeran
Bad Habits

One of the biggest tragedies of the last thirty years, is the decision not to release Tia Carrere’s cover of “Touch Me” by Private Life performed in Wayne’s World.

Seriously, what can we do to make this happen?

What i'm listening to:

Touch Me
Private Life
Private Life

Men and women are just different.

There, I’ve said it. And I meant it.

Sorry for everyone who hates being a girl and wants to be a boy. Or an it. Sorry, because I’m not sorry.

One test. Men think in boxes. Compartments.

And, believe it or not, one of those boxes is totally empty.

So, when a man is sitting there, and says he’s thinking about... nothing, he means it.

His mind is blank. Resting.

Women are incapable of thinking about... nothing. If she says she’s thinking about... nothing?

Look out. She’s pissed and about to rock your world.

And no, she can’t help it. Even if she identifies as a man.