Two for the Price of One

It's not you. There was no blog yesterday, and now, suddenly, there is! It's right below this one, if you want to read it, and it makes me look like I'm dabbling in irony, or at least foreshadowing.

What? See, it turns out that my hosting service is changing servers - rather, they're moving all their sites from various scattered servers the world over to one beat up Apple Lisa somewhere in the Ukraine, and rather than going smoothly, things have been a little on the kerflooey side, by the looks of it.

Firstly,I noted that Anonymous posted a reply the other day, and I didn't get the usual email from Blogger about it, which goes to one of my copper-man accounts. At first, I'd figured that it'd turn up in email eventually - Blogger is always a little slow with its posting function. But then I posted a reply to Anonymous, and that failed to be emailed to me as well. Then I checked and saw that I had not, in fact, received any email to my copper-man accounts since last Monday. Since I use those accounts so infrequently, I hadn't really noticed. One is for some personal email, and the others just seem to be Spam Catchers. But, no, nothing since the 19th. Not even an offer to earn money watching robot porn.*

So I dug around my Deck yesterday afternoon and got caught in something they called a 'Transition Kiosk,' and too the easy way out: called tech-serv. Right away, and without any prefatory explanation, the gentleman at the other end of the phone - presumably several oceans away, under the Calcutta Moon - had me change my password. I did so unquestioningly, figuring that this was a prerequisite to porting over to the new server.

No, as it turns out. It's just some bullshit 'security' measure they 'require.' That you 'have to' change your log-in and password every 90 days. About 20 minutes later, I got off the phone, a little confused as to whether my problem had been solved or not. It had not. And I had a new one, I found, when I tried to post the Rambler late last night. Blogger now couldn't get onto my server, despite the fact that I gave it the new login info.

Tonight, I headed back to my Deck (still on the same old server, thanks), and added a new FTP login, fed that one to Blogger, clicked last night's unposted entry, and:

WHHOOOOOOSH! Posted like a charm.

Still no email, though, so I'm back on the phone with tech-serv, as I type this.

Really: I'm on hold, and haven't yet talked to a person.

And I have been since I started typing this blog. This somewhat lengthy, rambling blog.

Which I'm now done with, and still no tech-man on the other end of the phone (worst hold music ever, BTW).

Tune in tomorrow. I'll keep you... posted.

D.

Commencing countdown, engines on...

I have now set a deadline for the revamp/overhaul (revamverhaul?) of the Copper Man site, of which the Subway Rambler is the only currently functioning part. January 1st, 2008. Instead of the fading memorial to a dead band that comprises the existing site, the new site will be home to Dave effluvium of all kinds, including:

- galleries of various 'art' things,
- musics of all kind,
- small movieish viewings,
- bits made up of words (of which the Rambler will be a part),
- perhaps an ongoing comic serial?
- shots of your mother, naked,
- and whatever else I can think to cram into the gaping hole that is my bandwidth.

I welcome any ideas as to what people expect/want/fear seeing in this new site. Please post your suggestions with abandon below. Most of all, I expect you riders to hold me to that launch date; I have even removed the old front page for the site and replaced it with a shorter declaration of the above (plus a nice picture). Go take a look.

Of course, the damn place will still be named 'copper-man.net,' just to be extra, extra confusing.

D.

What they thought of next

http://www.nowplayit.com

Interesting: People show you how to play songs.

More interesting: The artists themselves occasionally are the ones doing the showing.

Most interesting (Dave division): Paul McCartney showing how to play one of his songs, with each part multi-tracked by him.

Warning: They want your money.

D.

I'm sorry... what's in a name?

My loving and thoughtful wife, knowing that my favorite sketching tool is the famous Sharpie® marker, brought me home such a deal that she'd found at the supermarket a few days ago - a 12 pack of Sharpies® for a single dollar! When you consider that even at the office superstore-type places, the things usually sell for about $1.50 each, I had to commend her for her purchase:



Of course, I'm always a few Sharpies® ahead of what I need, so they sat on the kitchen table for a few days, blister pack unopened. This isn't unusual for our house - 'putting things away' is a lengthy process with many stages, of which being piled on the easiest convenient surface is the first. I did note when first seeing them that the package itself looked a little off-brand - half-assed, even - and maybe was some kind of wholesaler's repackaging of stock to unload.

Then I was standing in the kitchen, and looking at it, and thinking, "gee, that 'h' in the famous cursive logo looks kind of odd, doesn't it?," and took a closer look:



Uh. Skerple? I mean, what? There's got to be some kind of copyright infringement going on here, doesn't there? Right down to the barrel design:



Now, the reason I like the Sharpie® is because of the strong quality of its nice and black line, surprising pressure-sensitivity, and very long-lasting use. This is just a guess, but I'm thinking that the Skerple won't quite match the performance I've come to expect, and, on top of that, may even give me some fungal infection on my drawing hand.

I've never been so apprehensive about using a marker, before...

D.

Autumn in New York

For the first time this Fall, it's cold. Blissfully, wonderfully cold and clear out. And I'll trade a brilliant cold November sky full of moon and stars over a summer sky any day. Orion hangs directly over our house, the Three Wise Men (what they call Orion's belt in Puerto Rico, the stars Alnitak, Alnilam and Mintaka), and Mars, directly overhead, shining a red so spectacular that it makes Betelgeuse look reedy in comparison.

Now, I've just got to see that exploding comet that Paul McCartney was singing about...

D.

Wafer Thin

Couldn't eat another bite...

D.

Well, All Right!

Now - what does a fellow have to do around here to get a College reading level...?

D.