One thing I’m thankful for, and one thing I miss during these long weekends, is work. I like what I do, and I like the people I work with.

And I like the coffee machine and that which it dispenses. Says Gary Larson, "I know that's not profound or nothing, heck we all do. But for me, it goes much more beyond that."

To remind me of the caffeinated benefits of work, here’s a pic of my lonely office coffee mug:

The spot in the middle is my nose print.

I live alone by choice. Sometimes I can’t wait to get home and away from everything. In a bit of irony, I love having people over, and I think it’s great when people just drop by. It reminds me that I’m not really alone, and that the people I love really do love me back.

Sometimes the silence and the alone-ness scream louder than my neighbors’ revved motorcycles.

Since I live alone, I choose not to spend a lot of money on heat. Since it is only I, I don’t mind donning a sweatshirt and ducking under a blanket if I’m just going to watch TV.

Last night, it was quiet and cold. I crawled in to a chilly bed with crisp sheets and shivered for a few minutes before it warmed up.

If you’re being thankful for things, please remember to be thankful for your spouse and for the love and warmth the relationship brings. Give your wife a squeeze and smooch and say something nice. Snuggle up to your husband and run your fingers through his hair. Do something to show that you cherish each other and never want to be without him/her.

I like music. I’ve expressed that before.

I try to make a point of buying music that I’m going to listen to later. My basic rule of thumb is this: If I’m not going to like it in 2 years, I don’t want to buy it now.

Sometimes the rule of thumb fails, or I ignore it, and my music collection starts transforming or growing to include albums I won’t listen to anymore. Like extra clothes in the closet, I must occasionally go through everything and throw out the warn out stuff, stuff that doesn’t fit, or stuff I just don’t like any longer.

A few weeks ago I sorted my music library alphabetically by artist/band first-name first (then by song title) and hit Play. My crude calculations suggest that I have more than 250 hours of music.

I do have a number of doubles. That is, identical tracks that appear on different albums, or the same song by the same artist performed differently (say, one studio track and one live track). I skip the doubles.

If the software spins up something I don’t want to listen to, that’s a sign for me sell or BALETE. So far I’ve liked everything enough to keep it.

An unexpectedly fun part of this whole thing is music translations. I go from Dan Russell’s cover of Mark Heard’s “I Just Wanna Get Warm” to “Benzi Box” by Danger Doom (it came on a Paste Magazine sampler) and then to “Alarma!” by Daniel Amos. Another weird transition: dcTalk to Diana Krall.

On a really good day I can listen to 70 tracks. It’s been a month since I started, and today I left my computer mid-way through the Gs (Glenn Kaiser). Yesterday I was in the Fs (Fleming & John), so I guess I’m making progress. It took me 4 days to get through the Bs (thanks to Bill Mallonee).

It’s been killer not skipping ahead to the Os, what with an Over the Rhine concert coming up on Wednesday night. Two OtR shows in one year. How ‘bout them apples.

#1 and #2 from today’s sermon on Generosity... and giving... and having stuff and how you use it:

You never see a U-Haul trailer behind a hearse.

#2:

“Hey, share that.”
“No.”
“Fine... when you pass on, I’ll buy it at the garage sale.”

#3 is a throw-away comment from a football announcer. Does a player really want this said about him?

... who is not playing today because of a bad groin.

The final results from yesterday’s genius quiz question:

Men who say Man: 12
Men who say Woman: 16
Women who say Man: 11
Women who say Woman: 4

People who say Man: 23
People who say Woman: 20

Some of the responses:
-- Woman says it’s a man because men relate to their stomachs
-- Woman says it’s a woman because I’ve heard women say that before
-- Man says it’s a man because I’ve heard men say that before
-- Man says it’s a woman because a man wouldn’t have used that many words
-- Man says it’s a man, but he’s totally metro
-- Woman & Man says it’s a woman because she’s talking about rage
-- Woman says it’s a man because women don’t say “ragingly greedy”
-- Woman says it’s a man because “I know a man who is a writer and he writes like that”
-- Man says it’s a woman because it is expressing something about emotions and attachment
-- Man says it’s a man because girls don’t say “like starving”
-- Woman says it’s a man, but it could go either way. God created us to mate. (Son of Woman then announces his discomfort with the current conversation.)
-- Man says it’s a woman because “no comment”

What respondents said, and how they said it, was where all the fun was. Other things I recall: A few sought me out later to change their answer; some guessed immediately without a second thought; some wouldn’t answer without more context. Some men didn’t want to talk about it and gave me an answer so I would stop bugging them. I suspect that the sex of the questioner (I’m a man, baby) may have influenced some guesses. I also suffered threats when I refused to divulge the answer immediately (It’s amazing the power people give you when you withhold information).

'Nuff chit-chat. The author is unveiled:

These words were penned by Megan, an engineer in Sacramento. So she’s a woman. A very articulate, very geeky (in a good way!) California gal.

Megan writes, “I would have thought it would be immediately obvious that a woman wrote that.  I don't think of men as pining for a relationship that much.”

Kudos, Megan, for being able to succinctly express a common human condition. And thanks for letting me rip off your comments for fun and non-profit. At the very least, I learned a lot about my co-workers; and they me.

I’m taking a poll. Conducting a test, as it were.

Here’s how it works: I share a quote, and you tell me whether it was authored by a man or a woman.

I did not write it. No one in the state of Washington wrote it. If you know how to effectively use teh internets, you can learn who wrote it soon enough. To be true to the test, please respond using your gut rather than your google. For now, please read the following and answer the question:

When I think even a little about wanting to be with someone, I get ragingly greedy. It feels awful, like starving. Please let it happen soon, or please let me stop wanting it so much.

The question: Was this written by a man or a woman? Why did you give that answer?

Here’s my Why (as in, "Why are you even asking?"): I read this and I immediately identified with the sentiment. I’ve seen it in my life; I’ve seen it in other people’s lives, both men and women. My working theory is that this blurb expresses a universal emotion and experience with which both women and men can identify because it is such a basic truth. (You could probably make other guesses... good for you. You are soooo smart.)

My current results (data pool is mostly Caucasian, Anglo-Saxon office workers in a software company where men outnumber women):

Men who say Man: 11
Men who say Woman: 12
Women who say Man: 9
Women who say Woman: 4

People who say Man: 16
People who say Woman: 14

Thanks to those who have guessed already. There is a correct answer to the question, but the answers to “Why do you think so?” have been where most of the fun is. Each person who entered the office’s lunchroom yesterday was sucked in to the discussion. I’d like to get a few more respondents before I publicize the final results.

I’ll share the Who and the final What later.

[Update 2006-11-03T16:20:41Z: Concluding comments are here.]

From The Old Testament Made Easy (Jeanne Steig), the following poem:

A Romance

Jacob fancied Cousin Rachel,
Uncle Laban’s comely child.
Seven years he toiled to earn her,
While her glances drove him wild.

When at last his bride was bedded,
Jacob drew the veil to kiss her.
Under it was Cousin Leah,
Rachel’s older, squint-eyed sister.

“Be not so distraught,” said Laban.
“Though at first she looks alarming,
Leah’s fun. I’ll throw in Rachel—
All for seven years of farming!

“Only seven more, dear nephew,
For the pair. You find that shocking?
Rachel will divert you nicely,
Leah darns a dandy stocking.

“Take the two. And take their handmaids—
This, I think, is rather lavish—
Saucy Bilhah, nubile Zilpah.
Both of them are yours to ravish!”

Leah bore him seven children,
Zilpah had a couple more.
Rachel and her handmaid, Bilhah,
Managed yet another four.

One of Leah’s was a daughter.
Sons made up the other dozen.
All twelve tribes of Israel sprang from
Jacob’s craving for his cousin.

(h/t Fosteronomo)

Sure, it's sounds like fun. But do I actually do it?

Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.
          -- Deuteronomy 6:4-9 (ESV)