Blog Master G

In light of my layoff news this week, I’ve updated my resume and have added it once again to the primary site navigation. Jen and I still aren’t sure where we’ll end up or what we’d like to do, but I figure that in the meantime, it can’t hurt to get my resume out there and do some interviewing. I sent my resume to two companies on Wednesday; one of them called me on Thursday. That seems like a good sign to me.

From my resume:

– OBJECTIVE –

To bring my unique blend of business & technical expertise, creative drive, and intense passion to a production or program management position in a fast-paced technology company.

– PROFESSIONAL SUMMARY –

Nearly a decade of Web industry experience with focus on production, e-Learning, client relations, and program management. Jack-of-all-trades who intimately understands technology, business, and content. Successfully able to connect these elements to create powerful Web products & strategies. Innovative technologist who sees the big picture. Master of execution who takes pride in teamwork & project completion.

A text version of my resume is also available. Please spread the word and let me know if you have any leads.

Rest in peace, furry Chow-Chow. You were a good dog and friend.

Poco, the family dog, was put to rest today. She was 12 years old and in a lot of pain. My brother Pete told me that Poco had no idea what was going on around her anymore. It was time. Pete and my mom took her to the vet today.

Back in the early ’90s we had two dogs, first Miriya Frinklestein the retriever-lab mix, then Pocohantas the purebred Chow. I don’t remember where we got Miriya, but we had her as a puppy. She was a wonderful dog, but she chewed on stuff (as puppies tend to do), so she had to go away to allegedly live with a family on a farm. At least a year later we got a call from the vet telling us that Miriya was there. She had run away, apparently, and was very sick. I came home from school one day to a sign that read “Welcome Home, Miriya.” I thought it was a joke (I loved that dog), but my heart raced with excitement. I couldn’t open the door quickly enough. I went in to find Pete and my mom sitting with a fragile Miriya. She really had come home. But she wasn’t well. She only lasted a week or two from that day. We had to put her down.

And so Poco became the dog with whom I spent my awkward junior high and high school years. She was the dog of Stanwood Way in Sacramento. Along with cat Licorice, Pete’s cat Smokey, and birds Peru and Chile, we had a full house. We were friends to animals. They were friends to us.

There was a picture of me and Poco one Christmas (I think Alan took it) that I loved so much I had blown up to a giant poster size. I had one of those stiff backs affixed to the giant photo. I hung it on the wall of my room. I saw that poster not too long ago (when we cleaned out Nana‘s house), and it probably ended up with my mom somewhere in Tucson.

Smokey died a few years back. In 1996, when I was away at college, Licky left for a journey around the world; he has not yet returned. (Licky was a cat dear to my heart, but I’ll save his story for another day.) Chile died on Christmas Eve one year (1993 perhaps?). Peru fell into neglect during my depressed days of teenage angst. He was given to a woman from the local pet store who nursed him back to health and took good care of him.

Nana’s cat Abigail ran away earlier this year, stressed out and confused by the heat of Tucson and the trips on which she accompanied my mom between there and Southern California. I hope that Abby is now living a happy life somewhere in Tucson. Abby and Poco were good friends to Nana until she passed away last year (rest her soul).

So Poco was the last of the family pets — the end of a generation of furry friends with whom I grew up. So here’s to you, Poco, and all your friends and mine: Miriya, Licorice, Smokey, Abigail, Peru, and Chile. You all helped me through the hardest time of any kid’s life and I’ll never forget any of you.

The San Francisco Bay Area Mob Project has a new Web site that was announced yesterday. In the Past Mobs section are a number of photos ripped off from various sources, including gabeanderson.com. Namely, this one (of the back of Ben and Jen, and the profile of Enoch), and this one (of The Westin St. Francis). Here’s my original post from which the photos were taken.

On one hand, I think it’s fine and, in a way, flattering, that my photos were lifted from my Web site and republished elsewhere without my permission, since that’s part of publishing anything online in digital form: Entering it into the global community of resources and knowledge, which I think is important and part of what makes the Web what it is today. On the other hand, I also strongly believe in the importance of respecting copyright laws and giving credit where credit is due. I always attribute content to its appropriate owner and quote any text that I use on my site from other sources. Perhaps I’m naive to think others would extend the same courtesy to me.

The only exceptions to my publishing others’ content are when the source is not known, or when I use something from a widely circulated email forward. Of course, that brings up the question of email “publishing” vs. Web publishing. Does one have a greater responsibility to respect content ownership when publishing on a Web site vs. clicking the “send” button to distribute something funny to one’s 300 closest friends?

Every page of my site contains the following text: “All Content Copyright 1995-2003 by Gabe Except Where Attributed Otherwise.” Perhaps I need to modify this to state that any content published elsewhere should only be done so with my permission and/or appropriate acknowledgement or link back to my site.

Or am I overreacting? In the end, if my photos contributed to another cause in which I’ve participated, should I care? Or should I feel good that I was able to help out (indirectly)? After writing about stuff like this, I begin to question if I’m being too anal about it.

Oh well, at least I’m not the Star Wars Kid.

Last night I had a strange dream that somehow connected to anxiety at work. This was unusual since in the year-and-a-half I’ve been at the company, I’d never before had a work-related dream. At other jobs, yes, but never at this one.

Despite a 1pm department meeting, I stayed home from work today since the pain in my back is acting up.

As it turns out, my dream was more of a sixth sense than I realized.

Around 9:30 this morning, I got a call from the director of my department to tell me that the department was being restructured and that my position was being eliminated. The irony of it: My position is now seen as “duplicative” because of a new position created in another department; I just helped a friend get that job (and neither of us had any idea this would be the consequence). This sucks.

The good news is that despite its being a corporation that cares more about the bottom line and needs of the business than its people or everything they do for it, the company is providing me with good “redeployment” and severance packages.

Everything happens for a reason. Lately, I’ve been feeling really antsy and discontent with my job — and, in general, with working for someone else. I’ve long desired to be in business for myself and this is the perfect example of why that’s important: The individual is always at the mercy of the corporation. I want to control my own destiny.

Jen and I have also been talking a lot lately about moving to the East Coast, where her close friends and family live. Perhaps this is just the impetus we’ve needed to make a big change in our lives. Our lease ends January 31, 2004, so the timing couldn’t be better.

Whether the next three months bring a new career for me, another position within the company, an opportunity to push my own business into full swing, or a good reason for us to move away from the Bay Area, above all it’s a chance to do some soul searching.

It’s not often that one gets the chance to be paid for three months without working, so I hope to make the most of this opportunity. It’s actually a rather liberating feeling.

How’s that for turning news of job loss upside down? Has anyone ever doubted my optimism?

Tonight’s happy hour couldn’t come at a better time.

Anna Quindlen has an excellent commentary in the latest (October 6, 2003) issue of Newsweek (Free Pass for the President): “The most underplayed story of the past month was the one about the events of September 11 and Saddam Hussein.

“There is no direct link between the two. This despite the fact that George W. Bush and the members of his administration have labored tirelessly to suggest one ever since they decided to invade Iraq. This despite the fact that they’ve been spectacularly successful at convincing American citizens of this fiction: more than two out of three believe the Iraqi leader was personally responsible for the terrorist attacks. ‘No evidence,’ the president finally was forced to admit publicly, that this was so.”

On Saturday night my old high school friend Dave Reed and his girlfriend Pam came by for a visit. After dinner at Nan King Road, we let out both dogs to say hi. In the 4 years that Stella’s been a part of our family, this was one of only a handful of times that she did not bark her head off or freak out when she met new people (especially when one of those people was a man). In fact, her reaction was quite the opposite: She strutted up and down the hallway wagging her tail. Jen and I could hardly believe what we were witnessing: Dave had charmed Stella Brie.

She returned to the yard to watch her ducks before we could capture the moment, but we do have proof of Dave the dog whisperer charming Happy Dingo (not quite the same challenge of charming Stella Brie, of course, but proof nonetheless that Dave speaks dog).

If you have an asthma attack in the middle of the night and dread going to emergency rooms since you’ve never had a good experience (who has?), all that can change with a 1am visit to the UCSF Medical Center Emergency Room. US News & World Report ranked it the 7th-best hospital in the country this year, and last night, it really showed.

Jen’s breathing has been bad for the past couple weeks. About a week ago a doctor prescribed her with a prednisone treatment without tapering it off. Apparently this is what may have contributed to her attack late last night. Prednisone, as we learned last night, should always be tapered off since it’s such a strong drug.

When we arrived at the ER there was no wait. They took Jen’s info and whisked us immediately into the caring hands of friendly, attentive nurse #1. After setting up Jen with an inhalation machine, friendly, attentive doctor #1 arrived to check in. And she actually listened to what Jen had to say. Throughout the next couple hours, we were paid visits by friendly, attentive nurses #2 and #3, as well as by friendly, attentive (supervising) doctor #2. It was quite honestly the most impressed by Western medicine either of us had ever been.

It was almost surreal, in fact. Not only were all the nurses (two women, one man) and both doctors (women) friendly, attentive, and wanting to help Jen’s situation, but they were all young and attractive. It was like a real-life version of ER, hold the George Clooney. When we left the hospital to head home (a whole 3 blocks away) around 230am, it almost seemed as though we had dreamt the whole experience.

So the moral of the story is this: If you’re ever in San Francisco and have an emergency, go to the UCSF Medical Center. It’s the best emergency room you may ever encounter. It’s also refreshing, in this male-dominated world, to be cared for by a mostly-women ER staff.

All this and they helped my wife breathe better in a hurry, which, of course, was the most important thing.

Last night I could barely breathe and laugh due to intense pain in my chest (relieved by 2 Advils downed with Guinness at The Chieftain prior to meeting up with Crissy, Sandy, and some friends of theirs for a yummy Buca di Beppo dinner). This morning I woke up with aching pain all over my back and legs. I could barely move.

A couple times per year, I tend to forget that I’m not a football star, or that I can’t run like I used to. Back in May was the last time I pretended to be a football pro, and Jen reminded me how much pain I was in following that day. Again yesterday my department returned to Stafford Lake for margaritas and football. And yet again, I ran around too much and too fast. At one point I even collided with a powerful thud into a coworker. The blow knocked him down and is probably the cause of my chest pain.

Sure, I can tear it up on the slopes every winter, but I easily forget that I’m not in the same football-ready shape of yesteryear. Back in the Pacheco Valley days of my youth — when we regularly played tackle mud football — I could take a beating and not feel any pain the next day. Of course, I was built mostly of cartilage back then.

Mollie was here this morning to work with us on training Happy, his first official training class in the year that we’ve had him. We want to teach him better house manners.

Around dinner time tonight, we’re supposed to meet up with Dave and his girlfriend. Dave and I haven’t seen each other since high school, so I’m looking forward to hanging out tonight. We haven’t yet decided on a place to eat, but here in San Francisco, we’re never short on options.

Tomorrow is the Folsom Street Fair and we may or may not go (some friends are going). More likely, we’ll spend the day going to open houses. Yesterday for the first time Jen was looking at listings online and today made a number of calls to realtors. That rules. I love that she’s now as excited as I am about buying a place.

A few evenings ago we met with our financial planners to discuss some debt and the home purchase, as well as to do the yearly review of our portfolio. They gave us some gold stars, along with the go-ahead to use some of our savings to wipe out our shared credit card debt. The check should arrive next week, and already we both feel a tremendous sense of relief. (Here’s what I wrote after meeting with them last year.)

Mmm…sushi. Nemo Nigiri?

The California gubernatorial debate with Peter Camejo, Arianna Huffington, Cruz Bustamante, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and Tom McClintock just ended. A “free-for-all” is what one of the KRON 4 anchors called it. I’d say that’s a pretty accurate assessment.

The candidates repeatedly spoke over one another, particularly Arianna and Arnold, who obviously hate each other (see The Special Interest Brothel via iProtest). During one of the many interruptions:

Arianna: “This is the way you treat women, we know that, but not now.”

Moderator: “Arnold, that was a direct attack on you. Your response?”

Arnold: “I just realized that I have a perfect part for you in Terminator 4.”

Camejo was calm, collected, and right on. He had some compelling statistics about taxes, such as that the average Californian is taxed at around 9% and the wealthiest 5% are taxed at only 7%. If the rich paid the same taxes as the rest of us, Camejo said, we would have a budget surplus in this state. So what are we waiting for? Camejo then challenged Arnold and McClintock on that point to say, “You’re right, Peter. Tax the wealthy.” Of course neither said anything since they themselves are wealthy.

There was far too much talk of the economy, taxes, business, and workers’ comp. We get it. The economy’s an issue. Jen and I were both pissed that the environment — in a California debate — was never addressed. Business will always be here, jobs will come and go, but we only have one Earth. Let’s get serious about it. (On that note, Arnold made some snide remark about driving his Hummer over or through something, but it was hard to hear since he was yelling over Arianna.)

Camejo mentioned in his closing remarks that the League of Women Voters is trying to prevent the Green party (him) from participating in future debates. Jen and I were shocked and abhorred to hear that. One of the great things about this debate, as Camejo said in his opening remarks, is that third-party candidates were permitted to participate.

Following this debate, as with the last one, I’m leaning more and more toward Camejo (but no on recall, of course). Yes, I hear ya, Dan, remember Florida… but as Ben puts it: “Maybe I’m too much of an Idealist, but I feel like in a Democracy you should vote for what/who you believe in, and not compromise by voting for someone you absolutely do not trust (Bustamante?).” Well said, my friend. If we’re going to effect change in the system, we’ve got to vote with our hearts.

In other election news this week, the same bastard who bankrolled the effort to recall Davis is now urging Republicans to vote against the recall (if Arnold and McClintock both remain in the race, which they will).