A stream of thoughtsciousness

My name is Donovan Watts. I am the Founder of Getting Sites Built, a web design agency.. we plan, design and build websites. Donovan's thoughtStream is my weblog. For kicks, I hoop.

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Hube da Cube

Tomorrow I shall unearth Hube da Cube (check out this link for a picture of Hube da Cube running iceplant radio). Good ol' Hube. He's a classic. An Apple Cube. I swore I'd never sell him or get rid of him. Why? I like him, that's why. He ain't no Mini but he was the prototype and looks way cooler.

Hube is a souped up Cube. I don't recall the specs right now but he's got an accelerator, maxed with RAM, etc. but he blew a board over a year ago so I just packed him up and stowed him away. Time to do some brain surgery and find out what's ailing da Cube.

Then, when Hube is all ready to roll, I'll set him up where I'm house-sitting. That way, while I'm here, I can get some serious computer work done on a fast machine while leaving the Green Genie iBook in the Van for those times when I'm on the road (95% of the time.)

Food Bin.ge

An empty bin I retrieved from storage is now called Food Bin. Food Bin resides in my Vanagon. Thanks to the Trader Joe's corporation, Food Bin is now full of non-perishables. Eating out is fun but costly. Once I find a cheap 5 day cooler on craigslist, I'll add a two burner Coleman stove and a pots/pans/dishes set for in-flight meals. I wonder how much a small propane refridgerator would cost and how much space it would take up? I'd prefer that over a cooler.

thoughtStream podcasts. About 16 of them.

I love my Backpack account from 37signals

With Backpack, I am easily making the transition away from many client side apps, pushing the data to the internet. Now, all I need is a computer connected to the internet and a browser to see my notes, pictures, thoughts.

Trader Joe's zombies

In the grand scheme of things, a new month represents a new opportunity.

Why, just yesterday I went shopping at Trader Joe's with Lori. We shared a cart at first, using cereal boxes to separate her side of the cart, the left side facing forward, and mine. Lori also got the upper seating area of the cart, you know, the precarious space upon which one would insert a child if one had a child. I prefer not to place my food items where many a child's butt has been. Butt that's just me.

By the time we had reached the frozen food aisle it was clear to everyone involved that two carts would be needed. One for Lori, one for me. Maneuvering my way to the front of the store, dodging around a population nearly rivaling that of China, the glass doors were soon within reach. But there was a problem. The door wasn't opening. People were getting nervous, staring at each other through the panes as though the oxygen supply were about to give out and I feared that the older woman, who was stomping her feet zealously now in order to activate the auto-door opener, would soon give up her tireless tirade in exchange for throwing a cart full of Trader Joe's Clam Chowder cans through the glass doors. Freedom will be ours!

As the riot mentality started to sink in, I noticed the Exit door was open. It was only the Entrance door that wouldn't open. There were now about eight people on the inside of Trader Joe's trying to get out through the Entrance door. And just on the other side of the Entrance door were about six people with empty carts attempting to get in the store. Mayhem was about to ensue. As I darted out the Exit door, grabbed my cart and calculated my next move, an elderly man thwarted my forward motion, causing me to miss my opportunity to enter this food locker through the Exit door. That's right. The Exit door was to become my Entrance! Crazy, I know but somehow, someway, I needed to regain entry.

Before I could make my move, the Entrance door opened and the throngs of Trader Joe's zombies resumed their advance, letting go of the notion to break glass and loot this day. We were this close to absolute anarchy but not this day. On this day there would be no mutiny at Trader Joe's. I returned to the frozen aisle, put my food items into my cart and then we got in line, paid for said items and drove away.

Trader Joe's, Trader Joe's..

We all need a little food from Trader Joe's.

In the morning, in the evening,

You can shop at Trader Joe's.

But when the doors don't open,

And you thinking about looting,

Stand your ground, take a breath,

And let the doors do their thing, on their time.

There's peace at Trader Joe's. There's food and cheap wine at Trader Joe's.

We all need a little food from Trader Joe's.

[Repeat first verse three times]

Who was Trader Joe? Did he always trade or was he in some other profession before starting up a crazy busy food store? We may never know.