andy: I think I need to write a program to calculate Dudo odds
kitt: real men calculate those odds in their heads
andy: after doing the calculations in excel the first time

I really need to learn to leave well enough alone sometimes. I really do.

When we first moved into the house, there was an ugly faux-brass light fixture thingy in the dining area.

I took it down about six months later, disliking the way it looked, and intending to put a lighted fan up soon after to help with the summer heat. Fans are great when you don't like air conditioners.

Well, I didn't find a fan I liked for another 2 years. By the time I did find one, however, I realized that I couldn't actually hang it up because the junction box didn't seem likely to be able to support the weight of the fan, much less the motion of it. Couple that realization with the realization we should have the house rewired, and the light fixture stayed two wires hanging from the ceiling.

Fast forward another few years to a roommate, and the wires are still there. Said roomie, Heather, comments on them every once in a while, wondering when we're going to fix the problem.

Oh, that? Yeah, I guess we should, eh?

Recently, we've been inspired by Andy's handyman work around his house. So, inspired, that we let him install our Smith-provided thermostat. Yay, us!

Really, though, he's inspired us (that, and practicing on the Indiana house), so we decided to install a temporary light since we weren't comfortable with the fan going up yet. So, we bought a light fixture, brought it home, opened it up, and went to install it.

To discover the light junction box is actually 1" too narrow for the fixture. Somehow, we managed a super-small, half-size light box for our dining area light. Great. Just great.

Andy offered to replace it, but wondered how the installed one was currently attached. Let's find out, I said, and brought out a hammer to pull out the nails and a screw driver to remove the screws. Was I really afraid the box wouldn't support the fan? I shouldn't have been. I could hang from that junction box without fear of falling, it was in there so well.

Well, was. It's not now.

Yeah, that's MUCH better than the two wires sticking out. MUCH.

Dad sent me a debit card for Christmas. He sent all the kids the same gift, mailed from the same place. Chris' didn't arrive: it was stolen somewhere between the mailing origination and the post office near Chris' house. I don't know about B's card. Mine arrived just fine, tucked in a card.

I'm strangely excited about this gift. It feels like the start of a school year: full of promise and new beginnings. There are so many things I can do with this card, so many purchases I can make.

I could buy a technical book at Amazon, read it and become more knowledgable.

I could buy an entertaining book, read it and become more relaxed (unless it's one of THOSE, we know how relaxing I find them).

I could pay for an hour massage, and have enough left over for one for Kris - then I would be really relaxed.

I could buy plants at the nursery and plant them in the yard. Every time I looked at them, I'd think lovingly of my dad.

I could buy a plane ticket back to Indiana to visit him.

I could buy a really, really fancy meal for Kris and me (or, just let Mike buy that one).

I could buy stock with the money, watching it grow over the years.

I could buy two dozen or more domain names and continue on my site-a-month goal (this site being the first one I've done, yay, schedule!).

I could buy a stained glass window to hang in front of one of the livingroom windows

Oh, the possibilities are limitless! The choices are all exciting. I've always thought the best gift is one that someone wants but wouldn't purchase for himself. Pretty sure most of those qualify here, since I've cut down my spending from things I want to just the things I need. I've been impressed with how much less consumerism there is in my life, and Kris' buy extension, by not buying stuff on whims. If it'll be used and its necessary, I'll buy it. Otherwise, I'll imagine owning it, imagine the brief joy of ownership, then move on. One less thing to discard later, one less distraction to deal with.

What I find most interesting about this gift from Dad is that the debit card comes with strings attached: I have six months to spend the money, or fees start coming out of the balance. Hefty fees, too: more than 10% of the card's remaining balance a year.

Perhaps that's Dad's way of making sure I actually spend his Christmas gift. I still have the check he wrote to me for Christmas of 1999. It's on pretty yellow paper. Too pretty to cash.

Okay people, when I'm driving down a street, going the speed limit, because I never drive faster than the posted speed limit, and there are no cars behind me (much less no cars behind me FOR A MILE), do not (did you read that? do NOT) pull out in front of me or turn left in front of me.

WAIT FOR THE 10 SECONDS FOR ME TO PASS! There isn't anyone behind me, see? If you bother to wait those 2, 3, maybe 5 seconds for me to pass, I don't have to slow down and miss the next light, and you don't almost get a truck grill in your ass because you cut the turn too close.

See how this works? We BOTH manage to avoid an accident with no extra effort on either of our parts. Isn't that great?

I think so, too. Happy holidays!