Viewing 1 - 9 out of 9 Columns.

last night at about 10:00 pm I got home from a 3 day camping trip. it started Tuesday morning when my friend Pax and I left town for the wild woods, down Applegate way. We got dropped off at the middle fork trail head. I hefted my 50 lb backpack (and wondered why I needed 50 lbs of crap) and we headed off down the trail. beautiful walk, through the trees, along the creek, and a mile and half later we were at the frog pond. down the steep side, across the freezing cold water (that changes from ankle deep to crotch deep in one step), up the steep side, and we're there. just where is there? glad you asked. there is an abandoned mining cabin above the creek.

(pictures are in the gallery)

the cabin, we believe, was built in the late '20's or early '30's (19-), and was lived in while the creek was being blown up to get to the gold there. the blowing up created a pond, about 10(?) feet deep at the middle, but very clear and cold. the creek at this point is being funneled in through large rocks and moving quite fast when it gets to the pond, creating a constantly changing swirl of water that never stays still long enough for the sun to warm it up.

the best part about the site is that it is surrounded by underbrush and trees, with just the one way in and out, across the creek. after awhile this gives you the feeling of being alone in the universe, except the people you're camped with. this is great, unless you're prone to imaginations involving the Blair Witch or vengeful spirts after living flesh. And it doesn't help when the first night out you watch "The Evil Dead", a movie about college students in an old cabin in the woods being attacked by, you guessed it, vengeful spirts. kinda adds a special excitment to bed time, especially when you're sleeping on the front porch of the cabin. somehow I did survive though, and was able to enjoy the three days we had.

  the first day was spent getting set up, and we tried panning for gold for a short while, but when no giant nuggets jumped into our pans we decided it was time for a rest. back to camp we trudged, and started fixing dinner. now when Pax goes camping, he does not neglect his stomach. me, I'll bring a two pound bag of trail mix and some jerkey and tough it out. Pax on the other hand had baked potatoes, zuchini, mushrooms, garlic, he was a regular produce department. along with half a dozen eggs and pasta he was set to eat well. fortunatly he knows that I'm not all that bright when it comes to camp food and always brings enough for two.

  the second and third day were much like the first, get up in the morning, make plans to do something, then lay around camp and be lazy. but since that was the original plan and reason for the trip, we didn't feel like we were missing out on anything. the last day we did manage to work up the energy to climb the hill behind the cabin, mainly because we believed we could see what looked like a mine shaft in the rock face above us. of course it turned out to be just shadow, but the climb was dangerous and scary at times so worth it.

  all in all it was a great three days. got some sun, learned why we keep nature outdoors (cause that's were it belongs), and learned all over again that I'm not 25 anymore and sleeping on the ground hurts. but hopfully I'll have forgotten that next month when we doing again, at some other as yet undecided location.

  the trip did bring up a moral dilema. while there, I was attacked repeatedly by every manner of flying, biting, stinging insect known. my lower legs are covered in welts and scratched-off welts. so I have to wonder, as I once again attack my legs with a cheese grater in an attempt to ease the itch, is it wrong to hate the mosquitoes for doing what nature has made them do? they need the blood to create their eggs, and a human doesn't have all that fur in the way, so why not do things the easy way? so am I wrong to want to slap every mosquito I see? based on the condition of my legs, I'd say no.

it amazes me sometimes how the human mind works, and the strange things we can invent with our imaginations. Bigfoot, yeti, the Lock Ness monster, space aliens and a myriad of other creatures that have been blamed for  destruction, mayhem, or just general nastiness (gremlins, anyone?). But it's not always large frightening monsters, sometimes it can be something small and seemingly innocent. such is the case with last night, or more correctly, this morning, at 3 am.
  I got up to attend the call of nature, and still in slumberland, stumbled my way to the bathroom, barely aware of my surroundings. thank god i've done this a few times or i might not have made it. on the way, i noticed the package of TP my roommate left on the floor, and the name of it. I won't say it, i don't want to be sued by some over zealous corporte lawyer, suffice it to say you'll recognize it from the description. the commercials show three ladies "quilting" toilet tissue. and it suddenly occured to me; there's only 3 of them. how can 3 elderly ladies make that much tissue? then, thoughts of cruel taskmasters, standing over these overworked sewers, yelling at them "faster! that shipment needs to be in Duluth by midnight!" popped into my head. I imagined the set of the commercials, the ones that make the women seem so happy at their jobs, being a place of fear and anxiety, as the sweet dears try to make it seem that they are content to do nothing but quilt toliet tissue. a production assistant is probably just off camera, holding a picture of an overwieght cat, the only companion of one of these oppressed workers, a threat, "think of what could happen, should anyone learn the truth".
   of course this lead me again to one of my favorite causes du'jour, Boycott charmin!! sometime ago they started a campaign for two types of TP. one strong, one soft. what did they name these? Red (strong) and blue(soft). so, what are they saying, hmmm? in a time where states and political parties are being identified with, that's right, red and blue, here comes a product that tells you their opinion of the subject. red = strong, hardy, going to last and blue = soft, weak, possibly not able to stand up to the task at hand? (gross, sorry). i've done some searching on the internet, and it seems that I and one other person are the only ones to post on the subject. there have been some posts on the topic of boycott charmin, but that was because some lil' ol' lady in minnesota thought using bears to sell TP was tacking. no mention of their real goal.
   but in the end, as i crawled back under the covers of my toasty bed, i realized what the real message of the tissue was. red or blue, strong or soft, it didn't matter cause like the parties they represent, in the end they're all full of s**t. (ewww gross again, sorry)

 when I created this account, the idea was that I would spend some time either everyday or every other day writing, mostly about work but not limited to that topic. However, as the great man once said, easier said than done. It seemed easy, just sit down and write. I've got oodles of opinions (don't you love the sound of "oodles"?) and thoughts, and as i've said before, I don't mind sharing them. but somehow, when it comes to writing them down, to commiting them to a more permenant venue then just my crazy rantings, it seems different. For some reason I feel that I must be more "correct" in what I say, that to just blow off about "those darn kids and that dog" seems to be a waste of the chance I've been given. Here at my fingertips I have the chance to communicate, albeit in one direction for the most part, with not only the local citizenry of Ashland, but with anyone interested enough to go online and look it up. The world around is shrinking at an amazing rate, and I feel that if I take the time to write I must somehow be witty, insightful, thoughtful, or at least be able to spell and use grammer correctly. I mean, what if I misspell a common word? who's going to take me seriously after that? what if I split an infinitive? the consquences could be dire. So I sit and stare at a blank screen, waiting for the perfect opening sentence, or a particularly witty Bon mot and nothing comes. eventually, I just start typing and, before I know it, I've written something. It may not be a masterpiece, never win a pulitzer or whatever they give out to well written and insightful blogs, but it does fill a page and makes me feel that i've accomplished something. and when you get down to it, isn't self gratification more important than anything else?

so I'm sitting here having my second cup of coffee, and I start to wonder, what makes a good coffeeshop? Lately I've been going to Evos, a fine coffeehouse, but two years ago I would only frequent the coffeehouse above Bloomsbury, then a year ago it was Mix's that got all of my coffee busines. for a short time, even the Inner Child Cafe supplied me with my daily fix of caffiene. so what is it that made me change shops so often? was it the coffee itself? no, because mostly it all tastes the same to me, I can't really tell the difference between a Viennese or Peruvian. then is it the people who work there? again, no, I have yet to have a bad experience with an employee at a coffeeshop. everyone is friendly, outgoing and polite, and makes me feel welcomed. then it must be the atmosphere, some places just feel comfortable, nice cozy chairs, good corners to sit in and chat with your friends. but all these places nice and relaxing, and it doesn't seem one is bettter than the other. I dig deeper into my coffee soaked brain to determine the common factor, the one thing that they all share, but the differences that would make this one superior this month and make me leave my old shop for a new one. Maybe it's the people who hang out there. Probably not, since at Mix's and the Inner Child Cafe I usually get it to go, and don't hang around very long. so it must be something even simpler. then, as I contemplate getting another cup, it dawns on what it is that brings me back. distance. I don't want to walk too far for my coffee. Every place I frequent is either on my way to work, or within a block of work. And since i've changed jobs a few times in the last couple of years, that changes my coffee supplier. I want to get my cup of joe, then go back to work and enjoy it. I don't want to have to hurry up, get the coffee and then spill it as i hurry back to work. Now, I know what you're thinking. Why don't I just buy a coffeemaker for the office? too much work. and besides, I like pretending I know the difference between Peruvian and Red Mud.
   so what about you? what makes a coffeeshop earn you're loyalty? and where's the best place for a cup in Ashland, and why? post your answers here, and thanks for reading!

Tags: Coffee Barristas Coffeeshop Evos Starbucks Bloomsbury

well, here i am, back again. did you miss me? i know someone did. I've kinda slipped on writing about work, i have more fun writing about everything else. So today i'm going to get back on track, more or less.
   last time i wrote about work i talked about the IRS, and the joys of dealing with them. The letter asking for clarification has been sent off, and an answer is exprcted sometime in the next decade. I don't want to try to be too exact with those people, they are so busy what with "American Idol" down to only a few left, they have to decide who to vote for. and for such challenged people, that must take a lot of brain effort. I'm not trying to be insulting, so i hope no one takes too much offense, and if you do, just write to me and we'll discuss it. 
   So the next step is to let people know we're out here. Advertising is a big pain in the butt. Part of the problem is that Marty (the majority owner) and i have different ideas about what should be said in the ads. I think short, to the point, and factual is best. He thinks that paragraphs of him quoteing himself about how great our customer service is best. I point out that to get a press release about our new business printed, we need to be proffesional and direct. Marty thinks that because he can turn a clever phrase he should do it ad infinitum, and who wouldn't want to listen to him talk? commies, that's who. no offense to commies. So, what did we decide to do? let Marty write his release, i'll write mine, then i send out the one i think is best.  which will be mine. Surprise Marty! nah, he never reads these things. 
   A little about Marty. I don't remember what I've said about him before, and i'm too lazy to look, so i'll just say it again. He's a good man, but he thinks everyone likes to hear him talk as much as he likes to talk. And if you don't, doesn't matter, he'll still talk.  it's not a bad thing, as long as you are able to let him talk and ignore him. just remember the last thing he said and ask him a question about it and he thinks you're listening. now i really hope he doesn't read these things. 
   Enough for now. Back to playing games. hmmm, I wonder if that's got anything to do with business being so slow.

 back many years ago when I was in the army stationed in Germany, I had a sargent who was very fond of motorcycles. he was a real harley man, and despite being in the military he still looked like a biker, rough and ready to rumble. He used to say that if he hadn't been drafted he'd still be riding the roads. but, after being drafted, his wife getting pregnant and the army paying for it, he decided to calm down a bit.
  He never lost his love of bikes though, and one day when we were at a beerfest, we saw some bikers. real hells angels types, leather jackets and chaps, chains, long hair and beards, dirty jean jackets that said something in German on the back, the whole 9 yards. Sarge's excitment was uncontainable." we have to see what they're riding!" he said. So, for the next hour or so we followed them around the fest, waiting to see where they had parked their bikes. the thought of going up to them and asking never entered our minds. After a bit they headed to the back area, behind some tents and we thought this is it, we're going to see some cool German choppers. when we got around the coner though, there wasn't a row of suped up, tricked out bikes, just a standared BMW, something we couldn't identify, and a bunch of vespa's and mopeds! I couldn't believe it! you aint seen nothing till you've seen a hell's angel sitting on a moped. unfortunetly, sarge thought it was too funny and busted up laughing. Now, these guys may have been riding mopeds, but they had the right attitude to be bikers, and didn't appreciate these Americans laughing at them. they chased us through the beerfest, and we finally were able to get into the main beer tent, were we sat until they closed. The bikers were right there with us, but didn't want to make trouble with so many people around I guess. when everyone was rousted out of the tent at closing time, we just got lost in the crowed and made it home safe. a little scary, but it still makes me laugh to think of bikers on mopeds. 
   So what am i getting at? well, with gas prices being what they are, and people looking for alternatives, and besides this is such a small town there's no real need to drive very far, so I'm suggesting we start our own locals scooter gang! we can call it a club, like the bikers do to give it respectability, we could meet every sunday afternoon for coffee and scooter related talk, and we could have planned activities and outings. and we could take on scooter gangs from medford in a rousing gang war. or not, i'm not wedded to that idea. but I think it would be great to get together with other riders to share tales of the road, talk about what it's like to ride a scooter, and generally raise awareness that we're out there. what do you think? you in for it? let's hear from you! you don't have to have one now, just being interested is enough.

Tags: Scooters Riders Bikes Motorcycles

Today I’ve decided to skip writing about getting the business going, mainly because after yesterdays rant against the IRS and writing a letter to them today I need a rest. So, instead you all get to hear about one of my newest and so far favorite hobbies: geocaching.

 For those who don’t know, geocaching is treasure hunting with a GPS. It’s a blast, and it gives you a chance to tramp around the woods, the parks, downtown, or in someone’s back yard. That is, if they don’t mind. My cousin’s son enjoys it when we’re downtown looking for a cache, he says he feels like a spy looking for the secret microfilm. One of the unofficial-but-still-followed rules is that you should be able to get a cache without being seen by non-cachers. Sometimes this can be hard, such as when the cache was behind a reflector on a busy highway. You have to wait for the right time, and hope that some Good Samaritan doesn’t stop to offer help as you sit in your car waiting for a clear shot.

Most of the rules are simple: no putting a cache on private property without permission, you shouldn’t need to use tools to get to the cache, never put the cache in such a way that you have to damage the local flora to get to it, or any public property for that matter. There are others, but those are the basics. I’ve found caches cleverly disguised as stumps, bushes, even a telephone pole once. (I know it might have been a real telephone pole, but I like to believe some cacher put the pole up just to have a place to hide)

So what constitutes a cache? Well, that varies. Caches come in many types, from virtual caches, where you have to find an answer to a question and email the poster, to large ammo cans and Tupperware containers filled with little toys and trinkets, the idea is that you take something and leave something in return. This is where the treasure hunting part comes in. lately many caches have been of the smaller variety, usually a magnetic key case or a pill bottle with just a log in it. You can sign your name, proving you’ve been there, and it can be fun to read where other people are from, and see how far they’ve come. Living in Ashland, with the Shakespeare festival bringing visitors from all over means we have a steady stream of out of state cachers.  

So far I’ve found most of the caches in Ashland, but there are still lots in Medford and the surrounding areas. And more are being posted all the time. At geocaching.com you can find out what caches are out there, the coordinates, and a clue about what to look for. People like to hide them, and some hiders are very clever about giving clues to where the cache is. And it’s not just limited to the United States, either, on a trip to Taiwan I took my GPS and went caching. I only found one, but it was still fun.

There are many types of GPS’s on the market, and they all have their good and bad points. I have a Magellan 210 hand held device, fits perfectly in my pocket or the palm of my hand, and I can download maps into it of anywhere I want. I have a CD, put out in 2007 so I'm sure that by now it’s a little out of date, that covers the western US and Canada. All the roads, rivers, streams, towns, what have you, that you might need to find your way. Currently I have the I-5 corridor, with about 50 miles to either side, from San Francisco to Salem loaded. I haven’t used it much for caching that far north, but on trips to SF I’ve found it valuable in getting around.

I’ve gotten a few friends interested, and everyone I’ve gone out with has enjoyed it. But then, who wouldn’t enjoy a chance to roam the woods on a nice day? And if this seems like something you would like to try, let me know, I have an extra GPS, and I love company when I'm out and about. Just write to me here, or you can check out the website that I get all my caches from: http://www.geocaching.com/.

Ok, I didn’t mean to go on so long, sorry, and thanks for reading!

Tags: Geocaching Treasure Hunting Hide And Seek

I don't know if any of you have tried to start a business, but it's not a friendly world to enter into. There are some helpful folks, such as the people at the SBA, but most governmental entities are not user friendly. Or even friendly, for that matter. For instance, we needed to get an employer identification number (or EIN) in order to get a bank account. I had already looked at getting EIN, but since we don't have any employees it didn’t seem necessary. But, the bank insisted, so I went to the IRS website (WARNING! IF YOU WORK FOR THE IRS YOU MIGHT WANT TO SKIP THIS PART!) And instantly the temperature dropped 20 degrees. The lights dimmed, and it felt like ants were crawling on my skin. Ok, it wasn't that bad, but it was still scary. It is possible that the temperature and the lights were both because the sun went behind a cloud, but it was still ominous. I selected the tab that said EIN and after answering a few simple questions, I was done. Mostly very easy, except when they asked what our filing status was, and what type of LLC we are. And if you're not sure, fill out this form, this form, check here, go there, initial here, or just accept what we decide to classify you as. Being an easy going guy, I accept their classification. And there, we're done. Except for one small problem, and it's really minor, but it seems that we have not filed our taxes, and they need us to fill out this form going back to 2001. Say what? 2001? We just started this business, and they want taxes going back 7 years? What kind of stupid, fuzzy headed, ignorant logic is that! Then I remember who I’m dealing with and go oh, yea, that's what kind. I feel that this is just a simple mistake, so I call the helpline, and get put on hold for the next 40 minutes. I finally get tired of waiting, and decide I’ll send someone an email asking about it. But guess what? The IRS does not have email. No where could I find an email address for getting help. If you want to contact them, you have to either write or stay on hold until someone’s nails are dry; they’ve had enough coffee, and have finished discussing the latest happenings on General Hospital. Then, if it’s not lunch or break time, they might answer the phone. I know, I'm being too hard on the IRS, they’re very busy this time of year, everyone is calling for help, yadda yadda, but considering the money they waste they could hire a couple of more people.
Well, I'm going to go back on hold, and get this straightened out, hopefully. I’ll use my best “I’m sorry to have bothered you” voice, be very contrite, and maybe, just maybe I’ll get away without being audited. We’ll see.

 

A friend suggested I do this, the blogging thing. Apparently I have a lot of opinions, and mostly I'm not afraid to use them. but what to write about? I thought about ranting about my favorite rants, and raving about my favorite raves. but then i realized that would just happen on it's own, I seem to drift into one or the other as things move along. so, I've decided to write about what's been happening to me lately, and we'll learn together how well that works. so let's go, shall we?
  Our journey to discovery begins when, as none of you know, well, maybe a couple of you do, about a month ago I lost my job. thanks, I'm over it now. It was fortuitous though, because my cousin Marty (remember that name, we'll be hearing it a lot) has been trying to start a business and was wanting my help. not that i have any great business starting skills, but because he knows me and i can help him stay focused to the task at hand. His business is an ISP, the newest member of the AFN family. He also does computer repair and clean up, something he's done for over 10 years. Marty was there at the beginning of AFN, setting up the first in home connection. He's seen the changes over the years, the good and the bad, and now he's ready to put that knowledge to use. And he's bringing me along for the ride. Which I think is a very grand thing to do, except that half the time I don't have much of a clue what I'm doing.
We started by going to a class held by the small business association, a great organization that I can't praise highly enough. They were very helpful, and seemed genuinely interested in helping us get going. The biggest thing we learned at the class was that we didn't know half of what we thought we did, and only a quarter of what we did know was correct for us. Very scary. But with their help we got on the right track and at least were able to map out a plan that would make us operational.

Well, that's enough for one day, more later.

Next time: EIN? What the hecks an EIN and why do I need one? What's an LLC, and why does it make my duck quack?

Tags: Internet New Raised In Ashland Business