I’ve got a few pictures of the lovely Mrs. Vincentine Williams and my old Spanish Fort homes. You can find most of them here, and a few from the day before here.
The green house in the pictures belonged to our next-door neighbors on Cavalry Charge, the Helmses. I don’t know if they still live there or not, as I didn’t have time to bother the people now living in our Cavalry Charge home.
This is ridiculous. Two Mooresville teens have been charged with cyberstalking by the Mooresville Police Department for creating fake MySpace pages for their assistant principals. Tyler Yannone and Lauren Strazzabosco, both 16, were arrested for “portraying one of the administrators as a pedophile” and for “using racist words,” in the words of the Mooresville police.
Can you believe this? Everyone should’ve recognize this as a harmless prank and let it go. Two charge the two for an obvious parody is a violation of the First Amendment.
I understand the intention of the cyberstalking law but it is written so vaguely that it can’t help but trample free speech. Read the law (with emphasis by me):
§ 14?196.3. Cyberstalking.
(a) The following definitions apply in this section:
(1) Electronic communication. – Any transfer of signs, signals, writing, images, sounds, data, or intelligence of any nature, transmitted in whole or in part by a wire, radio, computer, electromagnetic, photoelectric, or photo?optical system.
(2) Electronic mail. – The transmission of information or communication by the use of the Internet, a computer, a facsimile machine, a pager, a cellular telephone, a video recorder, or other electronic means sent to a person identified by a unique address or address number and received by that person.
(b) It is unlawful for a person to:
(1) Use in electronic mail or electronic communication any words or language threatening to inflict bodily harm to any person or to that person’s child, sibling, spouse, or dependent, or physical injury to the property of any person, or for the purpose of extorting money or other things of value from any person.
(2) Electronically mail or electronically communicate to another repeatedly, whether or not conversation ensues, for the purpose of abusing, annoying, threatening, terrifying, harassing, or embarrassing any person.
(3) Electronically mail or electronically communicate to another and to knowingly make any false statement concerning death, injury, illness, disfigurement, indecent conduct, or criminal conduct of the person electronically mailed or of any member of the person’s family or household with the intent to abuse, annoy, threaten, terrify, harass, or embarrass.
(4) Knowingly permit an electronic communication device under the person’s control to be used for any purpose prohibited by this section.
(c) Any offense under this section committed by the use of electronic mail or electronic communication may be deemed to have been committed where the electronic mail or electronic communication was originally sent, originally received in this State, or first viewed by any person in this State.
(d) Any person violating the provisions of this section shall be guilty of a Class 2 misdemeanor.
(e) This section does not apply to any peaceable, nonviolent, or nonthreatening activity intended to express political views or to provide lawful information to others. This section shall not be construed to impair any constitutionally protected activity, including speech, protest, or assembly. (2000?125, s. 1; 2000?140, s. 91.)
Section 3 above makes it a crime to make a “statement concerning” death, injury, etc. It doesn’t say that the statement must imply death, injury, etc. I haven’t read the arrest warrant nor the fake pages, but I have yet to hear anyone claim these kids threatened these administrators in any way. From what I can tell, all they did was the Internet equivalent of putting “kick me” signs on these principals’ backs.
Fortunately for the kids, the last paragraph of the law – the part about “peacable, nonviolent, nonthreatening” activity – explicitly keeps this speech safe. Thus, either there is more to this case than the news story coveys, or the cops chose to overlook this part of the law.
The spokeswoman for the Mooresville Graded School District, Boen Nutting, said “its so important that we teach our children to respect adults and respect authority.”
I think its more important to teach our children the rights guaranteed them by our country’s Constitution.
This last business trip was the first I’ve taken on AirTran in a long while.
AirTran got me where I wanted to go on time (or close to it) and its people were friendly, too. The impression I got from the company, though, is its populated by a bunch of slackers.
First off, when I wanted to fly out early they bungled my ticket. I was offered a first-place position in the 5-standby line at Atlanta, but I turned it down in preference to taking my original flight. I changed my mind an hour later and returned to find I was somehow already booked on the earlier flight, though for some reason I could no longer be the first-place standby. I got to Atlanta and handed my standby ticket to the mystified gate agent, who told me I wasn’t even on the standby list anymore!
Nevertheless, she easily found me a seat. “Maybe that’s why this flight is oversold, ” she said, shaking her head. “People keep putting passengers on my plane.”
The flight attendent working the Raleigh-Atlanta flight mumbled quite a few words in the safety announcement, leading me to believe she was in a hurry. Later in the flight I watched her spill a drink right down her uniform. At this point I wondered if she hadn’t mumbled the words so much as slurred them.
I asked the customer service agent for the gate for my connecting flight. She sent me to the wrong terminal, though fortunately I had some time to spare.
Getting on the Pensacola flight, I stepped back to the lavatory as the flight loaded. No water was available. They could’ve been servicing the lavatories at the moment. I don’t know.
Flying back from Pensacola to Atlanta, the pilot taxied right up to the gate, killed the engines, and plunged the plane into darkness. The ramp workers forgot to plug the power cord into the plane!
Once we got to Raleigh it took a long, long time to get our baggage. In spite of our arriving before a Continental flight (and their longer walk through the terminal), the Continental flight got its baggage before we did. That seems to be pretty typical of AirTran.
Its the little things like this – the slacker-ish thinngs – that make me wonder where else these guys might be cutting corners. On the bright side, their people are friendly, unlike US Airways (and some other airlines). I also appreciated the XM satellite radio at every seat. Nothing makes it easier being 13th in line for takeoff than rocking out to “Tainted Love.”
Would I fly them again? Yeah, I might, depending on the schedule. AirTran offers the promise of surprise, at least.
I had some time to myself yesterday morning before the training started, so I drove over to my old neighborhood to look around. Pulling up in front of 14 Cannonnade Boulevard, a house we rented for about a year, I took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. What the heck, I thought. The owners either show me around or they don’t. Nothing to lose, right?
A woman appeared around the edge of the house, holding a shotgun! Ha ha! Not really. She was an older woman but seemed friendly enough. I walked over and introduced myself.
“You don’t know me, ” I said, “but I used to live in this house about thirty years ago.”
She immediately brightened up and introduced herself as Vincentine Williams. She and her husband John moved into the house about two years after we left and have lived there ever since. They bought the house for “a song” because apparently there was a lien on it and they happened to know who held the lien. They were the first owners after a long string of renters, which included us.
Vincentine is a piano teacher and was used to having people in her house. She happily showed me around the jungle of a backyard, pointing out the places where massive oak trees were felled by hurricanes past. I gleefully snapped pictures as she narrated all the troubles she’s had keeping the yard in shape.
The house itself always held magic in my mind. The back yard truly is a jungle! Banana trees sprout everywhere. Bamboo bushes now tower over everything. Massive oak trees dot the yard (though not as many as before). It was the first house we lived in with a basement, which provided a wet bar, a sump pump, an outdoor staircase and other basement-y attractions. Standing in the yard brought me back to the age of eight again, racing around the patio on bikes and Big Wheels with my brothers on many sweaty Alabama nights.
Vincentine’s husband was just waking, which made me feel bad about showing up, but Vincintine was still happy to show me the basement of the house (where the wet bar used to be). It was now festively decorated with black and white tiles, on which two beautiful grand pianos were displayed.
Vincentine also showed me the kitchen area, which had changed very little outside of a nice reflected-light ceiling that had recently been added. I wondered if the old ceiling bore any evidence of the grease fire we had one morning when we lived there.
The house was built in 1958 and was so novel at the time that Vincentine claims it once graced the cover of Better Homes And Gardens magazine. It had an in-house vacuum cleaner and an intercom system, nice touches even today but nothing less than groundbreaking back then. By the time we lived there the intercom was a squealy mess, though the vacuum system was still good for childish entertainment.
When we lived there the house had a flat roof which led to some funny incidents. One night my parents heard footsteps on their roof above their heads and called the sheriff. My dad had to lead the way for the deputy who responded, who was scared to death in spite of being fully armed. Eventually they got to the roof and surprised the suspect, a critter. Maybe a raccoon. Everyone had a good laugh and went to bed.
I thought Vincentine might want to hear stories of when we lived there but all she seemed to do was tell me the great things about the house. She was almost trying to sell me the house, in a way! I do believe she would have invited me in for the whole day had I not had to go to work. She kept telling me how much it meant to her husband when they went back a few years to see his old Midwestern childhood home, which she called the place “Gruesome Grove,” though I can’t find it anywhere.
I was fortunate to meet Vincentine and to get such a wonderful tour of my old home. We didn’t live there long but it sure was fun to be there as a kid. It makes me happy to know its been in good hands ever since.
I’ve carried business cards around for my full-time jobs for years. Now that I’ve been blogging for over six years I figured it was time to get business cards advertising my blog. I remember attending Linux Expo and taking home the first blog business cards I’d seen – those of Slashdot founders Rob “CmdrTaco” Malda and Jeff “Hemos” Bates. That was, oh, eight years ago.
On a recent business trip, I stopped by a coffee shop who got their business cards from VistaPrint. VistaPrint offers free business cards in quantities of 250. The catch is that every card has “Vistaprint – free business cards” on the back – essentially an ad for the service. Pretty savvy marketing, in my opinion. At least it makes some bloggers write about you.
To get your free cards you have to click through about 20 dialog boxes offering additional (fee) services, but it can be done. If you successfully navigate the dialog gauntlet your total cost for cards will be around $6 for shipping.
I’m in Spanish Fort, Alabama tonight for a day of training tomorrow. It feels good to be back to a place where I once lived 30 years ago.
I’ve written about my old homes here before, so some of y’all will be familiar with it. On my last trip I hoped to take pictures of my old homes. Unfortunately, the dime-store film camera I bought for the job didn’t offer enough firepower for the fading light of day. This time, though, I packed my Nikon D50 and got some successful shots tonight, more of which I hope to get in the morning.
The flight from RDU to PNS on AirTran was really a gamble. I was initially booked for a late-night arrival to Pensacola (actually arriving about now), but I figured I’d try my luck at an earlier flight. The gamble is that everyone at the airline told me the last leg was oversold with a 5-person waiting list and there was no way I would get here early. The flight out of Raleigh at 2PM was a breeze to get on and arrived at Atlanta over 30 minutes early. I simply had to walk down a few gates, present myself at the Pensacola gate, and boom, I got a seat. That’s how I managed to get to Spanish Fort before the sun went down.
I don’t fly AirTran too often, but I do like the XM Satellite Radio at every seat. I don’t really like the seats themselves, however. My backside was actually feeling sore after the flights. They could use more padding in the seat cushions. The pilots didn’t help matters, either, since both landings were a little harsher than I’m used to. Even the Chinese pilots of Air China flew far better than this: smoothly kissing the runway to the point I couldn’t even tell we had touched down.
Speaking of China, I’m in the Spanish Fort Holiday Inn Express now and found it funny that the last Holiday Inn I was in was in Beijing. Its a long way from there to here.
The Forbidden City in Beijing has its own Starbucks, hidden from view but definitely detectable from all the coffee cups being waved around. Spanish Fort, however, does not yet have its own Starbucks…yet! Its getting its first soon at the mall across the street, joining Bed Bath And Beyond, Best Buy, Ross, World Market, and a handful of other Cary-like stores. I find it easier to believe Starbucks is in the Forbidden City than I do Spanish Fort.
I sat next to a pleasant older woman on the plane to Pensacola with whom I exchanged some friendly words. As I waited for my bag, she walked by arm-in-arm with her husband. This guy turned my head because he was the spitting image of my long-deceased maternal grandfather: same height, same gait, same hair pattern.Same facial features, even. If he’d been wearing glasses it would’ve been perfect. As if being in Florida again (even briefly) wasn’t enough to make me miss my grandparents, that certainly did.
This place just makes me want to write. I don’t know why that is. Perhaps its the colorful reminders of the history here. My old neighborhood is filled with street names like Cavalry Charge, Smuggler’s Gap, Southern Way, Confederate Boulevard: names that fire a young boy’s imagination. Even thirty years later there’s a sense of mystery here.
Ah well. I’ve got a good book to read, Bill Bryson’s The Life And Times Of The Thunderbolt Kid, so I’ll cut short my own reminiscing in favor of Bill’s. Good night!
Jason Ray’s funeral will be held this weekend in Concord, NC. You can find details and directions here.
Monday I had the mixed blessing be the top Google search result for the query “Jason Ray UNC.” I was pleased to get lots of visitors but was sad that the reason they visited was because Jason died.
When I noticed the hit count for my first entry about Jason, I thought it prudent to update the post with information on where donations could be sent. I hope people took advantage of that.
That first post instantly became the most-read MT.Net post ever, with close to 3000 views. I only wish the circumstances were a little better. I think Jason posted a lot to the walled-off, so-called “social networking” sites like Facebook and Myspace but because Google doesn’t venture there few results came back for his own pages.
This song is irrevocably stuck in my head thanks to a Dan Zanes DVD we were given.
Go Down Emmanuel Road
As Performed By The Sandy Girls and Dan Zanes
go down emmanuel road girl and boy fe go break rock stone
go down emmanuel road girl and boy fe go break rock stone
break them one by one (girl and boy)
break them two by two (girl and boy)
break them three by three (girl and boy)
break them four by four (girl and boy)
break them five by five (girl and boy)
Continue reading
UNC student Jason Ray, who potrayed mascot Rameses during game days, passed away this morning at 8:38 AM, according to reports. He was 21 years old.
Donations can be made to the Jason Kendall Ray Memorial Fund, Concord Christian Church, 3101 Davidson Highway, Concord, NC 28027.
[Update: 3/29] Jason’s funeral will be held this weekend in Concord, NC. Find details here.
