I've got a new battle report up at www.battlereports.com . That is my contribution to humanity for the day.

I switched over to Mozilla Thunderbird for e-mail at work, because our new mail server setup is crap. So far, Thunderbird's done a great job of catching all my spam with only a few false positives. The only reason I didn't switch sooner was because it was a little tedious transferring my old mail over from Eudora. If I end up sticking with Thunderbird for the long run, I'll have to get it installed at home where I've got almost nine years of mail to sort through.

Since everybody loves a good list, here is my list of ten well-built songs (I hesitate to call it a Top Ten list, since there are inevitably other songs that I've forgotten). A well-built song need not be the greatest song in the world, have the deepest message, or even be one of your favourites -- it's just a song that's solid from start to finish. It isn't too long or short, it doesn't get old, it's well-crafted, and it says what it needs to say, maximizing the potential of whatever style it's in. Here are my picks, in roughly chronological order (with Amazon samples):

1. Monkees - Pleasant Valley Sunday
2. Beach Boys - God Only Knows
3. Huey Lewis - Power of Love
4. Bon Jovi - Livin' on a Prayer
5. Guns and Roses - Sweet Child of Mine
6. Eminem - Till I Collapse
7. Maroon 5 - She Will Be Loved
8. No Doubt - It's My Life
9. Black Eyed Peas - Let's Get Retarded
10. Muse - Hysteria

As you can see, the genres in my list are all over the map. In essence, these are songs that I would leave unchanged if I were ever rewriting music books. Do you have any songs you'd define as "well-built"^TM? Disagree? Please share!

Happy Birthday, Doobie!

Memoirs of a BUsha: Ten Years of the URI! Zone

1998 - 1999

1998: The year of Monica Lewinsky, Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, Google, and Windows 98. Also my junior year of college, Kim's freshman year of college, and Anna's senior year in high school. The year I first had a car on campus (a problem-plagued 1994 Dodge Spirit) and the year I started pulling out of all my online circles and actually going outside.

Now that the novelty of having a website had worn off, the URI! Domain became a big landfill of creativity, a dumping ground for all my music and artwork. Every new composition, short story, MIDI theme, and funny article I happened to read ended up somewhere on the site to be read or ignored by the Internet populace. The Llama Fanfare was also rearranged, reflected two obviously-effective years of state music education .

Having studied HTML and web design for two years and figuring that I was God's gift to JavaScript, I started creating web sites for other people and organizations, always with a smug link back to my own page for credit. I had a couple thousand visits per semester back then which was small potatoes since I couldn't get my site (which was only up when school was in session) to appear on a search engine. I branched out and taught myself UNIX, a little bit of CGI through C++, a little bit of Perl, and a little bit of rock and roll.

After a summer session of Extreme Makeover: Asian Edition, I returned to Tech in 1999 with hair and no glasses, lacking the MEMBERS ONLY jacket and blue Crew cap that defined my outward appearance for the past three years. Being a super fly Asian man and also a Trumpet Section Leader meant that I spent most of the day fending off randy ho's or eating steaks at Jason Chrisley's house, and lacked the time to keep up with my site. In fact, I actually posted a notice at the end of my fourth year at college that said, "The URI! Domain will be closing for the summer in May. This is probably the final year of its existence."

My decision to stop the site was based on the fact that I no longer really kept in touch with anyone that wasn't a five minute walk from wherever I happened to be. Why maintain a site that no one visits? It was also a matter of pride -- every single aspect of the site had been built up from scratch over the past four years, from guestbooks to counters to online video games. Knowing that I was finally moving off-campus for my fith year with the ineluctable Rosie and Anna meant that I would have to relinquish control of the site to a third-party host, where I couldn't just tinker around on a whim. I didn't relish the job of replacing all my custom-coded handiwork with off the shelf scripts and CGI programs provided by any normal web host.

What happened next? Did I bring the site back, or was this the end? You'll never know for sure unless you tune in on Monday!

To be continued...

Happy Birthday Doobie!

Weekend Wrapup

The actual 4th Holiday was spent in the wilderness of upper Loudoun County with some of Rebecca's extended family, celebrating Independence Day the way it was intended -- setting things on fire, shooting rifles, and eating venison. Along with the 12-pack of Yuengling, we brought with us a Bacon Salad (salad garnished with chunks of bacon and a dressing made from mayo and leftover bacon grease), and for the squeamish, a couscous salad (made from some fake grain and some pine nuts).

After consuming some delicious chocolate cake, we wended our way down the mountain to Leesburg to watch the county fireworks, complete with All-American music a l? the U.S. Customs line at Dulles airport. Unlike the clowns at the Nissan Pavilion, the Leesburg police department emptied out the pavilion of hundreds of cars in less than fifteen minutes and we returned home to Sterling.

On Saturday, we took a trip to Colonial Beach for the Spellerberg Fourth. Like the stones mined from iron deposits, traffic was Heavy, but we still managed to get there by noontime. We watched Ella learn such important life lessons as "You can only travel in two directions on a dock" and "All puddles are fun to run through but the oily puddles where car drives are the best".

Later in the afternoon, we took a few boat rides out onto the Potomac and made fun of Becca's tubing face while getting obliterated by biting insect. When everyone was pooped, all the kids retired to the living room for a repeat showing of The Adventures of Milo and Otis, the childhood classic which features a talking dog and cat narrated by Dudley Moore. We returned to Sterling late in the evening, but no so late that we couldn't have some leftover cheesy slow chicken for dinner (the "slow" refers to the cooking manner, and not the relative intelligence of the bird).

Return Day

because I have a higher rate of return when I go on trips

I have returned from the sunny climes of Nags Head, North Carolina, where the daily weather was a sunny 88 degrees with a slight breeze, and the local "Nags Hood" gangs haunted the ice cream parlors at night, looking like the love children of Eminem and Dennis the Menace.

The "Shore Thing" beach house was comprised of between five and ten people at any given time, not unlike a pick-up Ultimate Frisbee team. We consumed vast quantities of food, including catfish, crabs, shrimp, corn, burgers, hot dogs, beer-battered shrimp, ice cream cake, patriotic fruited cake, Greek spaghetti, shells and cheese, nachos, fresh guacamole, friendship bread, and potatoes.

We also discovered that a large quantity of the liquids we'd brought along had gone bad, fermenting into beers and wines over time, so we did the responsibly green thing by drinking them, instead of just throwing them away. (Because Dare County does not have a house-to-house pickup for glass and aluminum recycling, we also made sure to invite other people who cared enough about the environment to bring all the drippy bottles home with them, which is kind of like purchasing carbon offsets).

Our house (though a little too near to highway traffic) was perfectly positioned, with a three block walk to the beach, a habitually empty parking lot there for the lazy, and a two foot walk to the one-man-six-women hot tub and swimming pool. It was also just two blocks from Jockeys Ridge State Park, which we went to twice to catch the sunset. The clouds failed to cooperate on both trips, but we got some good dune jumping in, and also managed to wake up at least once for the beach-based sunrise.

On the last day, we sat on the beach with hundreds of other beachgoers and watched a very decent fireworks display off the pier -- sitting in the sand with fireworks going off directly over your head is much more enjoyable than trying to get to the Mall.

We got home after an eight hour odyssey that involved tons of SUV traffic, most of the back roads in eastern Virginia, and two wailing cats, and then I took yesterday off to readjust to the pace of Northern Virginian life and also to celebrate the birth of Kathy and Chris' daughter, Mallory Jean Smith. Congratulations to them!

Most of my Outer Banks pictures are up on Facebook, and they'll appear here towards the end of the month. I hope you all had a relaxing week in my absence!

Packing Day

We in the URI! Oligarchy are pretty busy this week preparing for a whirlwind trip to Spokane, Washington for a wedding, followed by a week in San Francisco while Anna housesits and prevents Booty from disabling the parental controls on the HD nudie channel (over the air at 118 degrees, originating from Langley). I've felt a distinct lack of free time this year, in spite of the trip to Puerto Rico, the open source library, and the four Kindle books I've read in the past two weeks.

I'll try to maintain the standard out-of-town-for-illiteracy approach to updating this site -- a daily picture of wherever you aren't, posted from the netbook. When I return, I'll celebrate the fourteenth birthday of the URI! Zone by mounting the old 42" TV on the basement wall, playing a couple games of Starcraft II, and holding my tri-yearly census. August will bring a buttload of baby showers, and September will bring my 31st birthday!

Travelogue Day

In an effort to avoid traffic, I left for Charlotte on Friday night around 8 PM, carpooling with Emily and Evil Brian. Rebecca had been tooling around on a road trip for the past few days, so it was just the three of us driving down I-81. The trip wasn't as horrendous as past trips, because I-81 has finally entered the twentieth century with a 70 MPH speed limit. I took the wheel at Exit 222, and a giant box of Sweettarts coupled with every single song the Beach Boys have ever written got us safely to the hotel at Lake Norman at exactly 2:22 AM. It was one of those extended stay places with a kitchen, and our room looked exactly like the one I stayed at in New Jersey for Kathy's wedding five years ago.

We oozed out of bed at too early an hour the next morning, solely to hit the full breakfast buffet featuring waffles and overcooked sausage patties. Afterwards, we donned our swimsuits and went to a pre-wedding party at Amanda's parents' house right on the edge of the lake. The water was unseasonably warm for swimming and noodling, most likely because of the nuclear power plant happily gurgling just out of view from our inlet, but also because of the high 90 temperatures and associated humidity.

After a short nap in the afternoon, we returned to the scene of the noodling for a rehearsal dinner, this time dressed in finery not fishery. The meal was an open bar, supported by roast beef and shrimp, and there was a dearth of mosquitoes, even those with five eyes or eleven legs.

On Sunday morning, we met up with Rebecca's childhood friend, Catherine Hicks, and her boyfriend at one of the many parks dotting the lakeside. The first four rules on our parking stubs were permutations of "stay out of the water" which was a shame with the heat index almost out of bounds. We did some very mild hiking on the trails and then collapsed in a heap near the only area with a slow breeze.

In the afternoon, we just happened to bump into Jack and Kristy of Arlington fame for ice cream. Apparently everyone who's anyone has parents with a massive house on Lake Norman, and though we never find time to hang out while living 20 miles apart, we had better luck 400 miles from home.

The wedding took place at the Peninsula Club, a radioactive golf course on the east shore of the lake with a wine list more pricey than any single kidney I might sell. The wedding was outside overlooking the greens and inversely proportional in length to the humidity.

The reception was held onsite and featured a first dance to a song with lyrics written by the groom, giant hunks of rare meat paired with gumbo, a second open bar, and Rebecca's disappointment at finding the Macarena on the Do Not Play List. The after party bled back to the hotel after we learned that all of the restaurants and bars were closed on a Sunday night, and we watched an infomercial for 24 Hours of Booty to end a successful weekend.

We arrived home around 5 PM on Monday night and found the cats still alive, thanks to the assistance of our across-the-street neighbour and camel-like humps of fat.

Weekend Wrap-up

The holiday weekend was crosshatched with three separate gatherings, which is about two too many for introverts in spite of the fun times. On Friday night, we went out to visit Rebecca's Loudoun clan for the true Fourth, eating fried chicken and picked okra, while watching kids setting off fireworks far too close to the tree line.

On Saturday, we carpooled down to Colonial Beach with Anna and daughters, catching up on recent news and listening to the Frozen soundtrack (but only twice). Although it wasn't a full force gathering with all 17 grandkids, it was good to see Becca, Jason, and their newish family, since we hadn't seen them since their wedding in 2011.

On Sunday, Rebecca went hiking in Harpers Ferry with a visiting Emily, and then visited a peculiar winery along the way, advertised as a "wine cave". Meanwhile, I went to the Cranes for an impromptu barbeque, where other Brian and David failed to convince me that Guardians of the Galaxy was a movie worth looking forward to.

How was your weekend?

Quiz Day: Me Me Me!, Part VI

Part I | II | III | IV | V

How much you know about me? Hover your mouse over the right column to see the correct answers.

Review Day

There are no major spoilers in these reviews.

Killing Them Softly (R):
This crime thriller, featuring plenty of familiar faces from other mob movies and shows, starts out with a high level of intensity, but after an initial card game heist, it starts meandering into the dangerous realm of "good moviemaking". Long stretches of irrelevant dialogue allow the characters to breathe, but kill all forward momentum. Free on Netflix.

Final Grade: C

Now Is Not Forever by B. Reith:
This CD of completely inoffensive hip-hop and pop songs is catchy and clever but not earth-shattering. Old School is a good representative track.

Final Grade: B

Shutter Island (R):
This psychological thriller starts out so ham-handedly abrupt, with ridiculous horror movie music and obligatory character introductions, that it almost seems like a setup for a parody of the genre. The potentially intriguing clues gradually built my interest up for the first half hour, but something about the pacing is just off -- eventually, I was just watching it because I knew there was going to be a twist and I wanted to see what the twist was. The twist was not worth the wait.

Final Grade: C-

Yamaha R-S201:
I purchased this inexpensive receiver to replace one from my youth that stopped working. It's about as minimal a device as you can find, and its lack of optical ports (white/red only) don't really matter to me since I only listen to my CDs a few times per month anymore.

Final Grade: B

Welcome Baby Uri!

Maia Holly Uri! entered the world at 8:49 PM on Thursday, July 6, 2017.

She weighed 6 pounds and 0 ounces. Mother, father, and daughter are all doing fine!

Maia's Birth Day

Maia turned 4 yesterday! For her second party out of three, she requested a chocolate cake with strawberry frosting (all homemade). For her birthday, she has received a cat tea set, two Frozen lego sets, a shark attack board game, some scarves, an art book from Ori and the Will of the Wisps, an atlas, a science book, and a sketchbook.

One of Maia's last questions as a three-year-old was, "How was the first baby born before there were any mommies?"