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From an iPhone OS 4 Developer Launch Q&A (will update with link when it’s over):

Jason Chen:

Q: Why have you veered away from widgets on the iPad?

A: We just shipped it on Saturday. And then we rested on Sunday.

Q: So widgets are possible?

A: Everything is possible.

Could they be any more snotty?  By the way, this was literally three questions after this:

Jason Chen:

Q: Is there going to be any change in Apple’s position on Java or Flash on version four?

A: No.

Clearly not everything is possible.

Why make excuses and vague hints? Just answer the question!

And this:

Jason Chen:

Q: Can you do anything to make these phones more safe so people wont’ use them when they shouldn’t be using them (like when driving).

A: I think we do more than most to connect our phones into cars’ control systems. We’ve done a great job for handsfree calling and such. We’ve done a better job on that than everyone else.

In other words, no.  No, we can’t.  Oh, and we’re better than everybody else.  Good heavens, talk about a defensive prima donna.

That said, OS 4 looks spectacular.  Except for the crushing grip Apple will maintain on the AppStore and their in-App ad system, I’m blown away.

Like anybody, I like a good night’s sleep.  That usually means 7.5 hours, starting at 9:30pm.  Tonight, my head hit the pillow at 10:30, which was good.  For the past three nights, I’ve been drifting off at about 11:30, even though I was laying down at 11:00.

Exciting things are happening and they tend to keep me awake.

So, when my head hit the pillow at 10:30, I expected to be sawing logs in seconds.  But, again, I found myself unable to sleep right away.

But tonight was different.

I wasn’t thinking about exciting things.  I wasn’t thinking about anything at all.  For some reason, I just couldn’t sleep.  I could hear our youngest, Scooters, peep every once-in-a-while, but that didn’t really keep me up.

I decided to get dressed and do a couple of things in the office, in hopes that they would help me sleep.

While in there, Scooters’ cries got louder and more sustained.  I kept telling myself he’d go to sleep.

He didn’t.  He just cried longer and louder.  I told myself “he’s cutting teeth, he needs to learn to sleep through it.”

But after 30 minutes or so and a particularly heart-wrenching cry, I went in.

Boy, was I glad I did.

Somehow, his heater had gotten turned up to…90 degrees.  Let me type that again.  90 degrees.

It was 11:30 and his bedtime is 6:00.  His room had been 90 degrees for 5.5 hours.

I grabbed Scooters and his hair was sweaty and matted and his huge cheeks were as flushed as you can imagine.  He felt like he was on fire.

My first instinct was to get Heidi and figure out what to do.  But then, I realized she was tired, too.  And I don’t always have to consult somebody else before making a decision.  So, I let her sleep.

I opened the door, turned the heater down and turned the fan on.  Then, I took Scooters and we went outside and sat on the porch (it’s pretty chilly tonight, like 40s).  That helped quite a bit.  Then, he acted hungry, so I took him in and got him a bottle.  I also washed his head and face with a cold washcloth, which I then put at the back of his neck while he drank his bottle.

Finally, after all that, we went up to his room and checked the temperature.  85 degrees.  Unacceptable.

So, I opened the window and we sat there, in the dark, for 15 minutes or so, while the room began to cool down.  We talked and played and then I gave him some more Tylenol and put him back to sleep.  This time, the door was closed, the fan was on and the window was still open.  I’ll go back in there in a few minutes and check the temperature and close the window.

It was horrifying to see my little guy in that kind of condition.  But it felt good to make it better and still let my hard-working, exhausted wife sleep.  Plus, Scooters and I connected some more and had fun.

Typically, I would let Heidi take the lead in fixing those problems but it felt good to do what made sense.  Sure, I can think of a few things I could have done better, but I felt more like a parent tonight because I let my love for Scooters and my instincts take over.

I love parenting.

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(read Part 1 here, part 2 here, part 3 here, part 4 here, part 5 here)

Well, it turns out, timing is everything.  After I asked her out, Heidi attended a personal safety class with a friend of hers.  The purpose of the class was to teach women how to defend themselves in case they’re attacked, a very noble purpose.  Unfortunately, it had the unintended consequence of freaking Heidi out.

From her perspective, she has now given permission to a stranger to take her to a place she’s never been, surrounded by people she doesn’t know and to, potentially, give up her free will and do who knows what.  And I know hypnosis doesn’t work like that, but Heidi didn’t!

So, she cancelled.

The day of the date.

At this point, my psyche was giving me a superior look and saying “I told you so!”  I couldn’t figure out what had happened, but I at least had the presence of mind to ask for a raincheck (yes, I used that word).  What that raincheck would be, I had no idea.

I racked my brain to think of fun date ideas.  We could go to the International Cinema and see a foreign film.  Let’s see, last time I went there, I saw an Argentine film where a man slammed a woman’s hand in the door.  Not the handle side, but the hinge side.  Lovely.  Plus, I think there were bees in it, too.

Okay, that’s out.  The problem was, there were a thousand things we could do and I had no idea what she was into.  Then, I remembered!  She had mentioned she liked Peter Breinholt, a local musician.  And he was doing a concert soon!  And I could buy tickets to it!  And then we could go!

I asked if she was interested in that and, indeed, she was.  I also asked a good friend of mine, Jimmy, and his wife to go with us and they happily agreed.  We would pick everybody up, grab something from Subway to eat at the show (it was an outdoor concert) and head up to Sundance.  Everything was set for Friday.

So, why was I alone on Friday night when I was supposed to be on a date with Heidi?!!

(to be continued…)

Adonis. Marble, antique torso restored and com...
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(read Part 1 here, part 2 here, part 3 here, part 4 here)

Those of you who were in attendance in that copy room (that is to say, none of you) will recall a man standing there with his arms in the air, parading about the room triumphantly.  To say a certain swagger had found its way into my step as I walked back would not be an exaggeration.  A peacock would have felt humble by comparison.  Not even my psyche could deny that Hot Law Library Chick had written my name on her notes.

I returned her notes and went back to my table, plotting my next move.  I held all the cards, now.  She was smitten, head-over-heels, if you will.  To imagine the word “twitterpated” would not be out of the question.  Clearly, her life would have been but a meaningless shell of an existence but that I were a part of it.  You get the idea.

So, how to proceed?  I certainly didn’t want to lose the upper hand or tarnish my Adonis-like image in her mind.  Finally, I settled on my next move.  I decided…to sit at her table the next time I was in the library.  “Yes!”, you’re thinking.  “A real man of action!”  That’s right.

And did I shy away from this bold endeavor (which essentially put me back on the same level I was at the day I first met her)?  No.  I DID sit at her table.  And not only did I decide to sit with her, but I was going to ASK HER OUT!!  ON A DATE!  TOGETHER!!  Did my boldness know no bounds?  IT DID NOT!!

So, in keeping with my debonair, suave way (no cracks in the comments!), I sat with her for probably 2 hours.  We studied, talked here and there, etc.  Plenty of time to ask her on a date.  Did I do it?  Surprisingly, yes.  When?  As she was pushing her chair in to go home for the evening.

That’s right, friends.  Nothing says confidence like waiting until the last second, literally, of a 2-hour window to ask somebody out on a date.  Notwithstanding, she was a true gentlewoman and accepted my bold advances.  She did want to go on a date with me!  She did think it sounded like fun to go see a hypnotist at Johnny B’s.  She was excited for me to call.

So, why did she decide to call me the day of the date and cancel?

(to be continued…)

Celery Stalks
Image by TheDeliciousLife via Flickr

(read Part 1 here, part 2 here, part 3 here)

You probably noticed that I said “Heidi, right?”, as though I hadn’t just read her name in my Palm Pilot 10 seconds ago.  There’s a fine line between “stalker” and whatever you call a guy who’s trying to woo a girl (“wooer”?  “pursuer”?  Anyway…) and I wasn’t sure if having an appointment written in my Palm Pilot with a near-stranger’s name in it crossed that line.  So, I acted like I had just accessed the vast archive of my memory banks and solicited, in an instant, the name of a girl I had run across four months ago.  Are there ethical issues with that?  Maybe, but shut up.

Two episodes ago, I mentioned that Heidi’s psyche had helped me out a bit.  This was the manifestation of that help.  You see, the only thing Heidi’s psyche ever allows her to change is underwear.  She is a rather static person.  Which is why she was living in the same group of dorms and studying in the same library.  What a great blessing!  To my own psyche, I say, “seriously, you couldn’t help a brother out once in a while?”  Anyway.

Heidi’s reaction was one of surprise.  I could see that she didn’t remember my name so I stood there, waiting patiently, knowing I had the upper hand.  She said “yeah, what was your name again?”  Upper hand or no, you can’t hear that question without getting bucked down a few notches.  “m”, I stammered, not sure where to go from here.

Then, I happened to notice she had a copy of “The Iliad”.  I was taking a Humanities class from a crazy man who expected me to read that book in 2 weeks, besides the fact that I was taking other classes.  And he hadn’t given me any notes about the book.  Well, Heidi was studying the same book for a Philosophy class and SHE HAD NOTES!

And I had an idea.

I went to put my things down and came back, after a couple of minutes.  No, I didn’t sit there with her.  I didn’t want to seem like I was coming on strong.  What am I, a psycho who writes her name down four months ago so I can find her again?  Of course not, HA HA HA!!  What a silly idea!

When I came back, I told her of my dilemma and asked if I could borrow her notes to copy them.  Well, she was more than happy to share her notes with me.  She picked them up and handed them over and I took the coveted prize to the copy room, straining both nostrils the entire way to see if I could catch the hint of a scent.  Okay, that’s not true and it’s a little creepy.

Now, up until this point, I have painted Heidi as a pristine goddess, capable of no wrong.  Unfortunately, this next part of the story has proven, in later years, that my wife is willing to mercilessly assault the truth for her own wicked designs.  But I digress.

I put the pages on the copy machine and ran them through.  As was my habit, I checked them after they were done to make sure they were copied correctly.  As I leafed through the pages, some writing caught my eye.  Upon closer examination, I realized she had written on one of the pages and this writing had copied through.  What was this writing, you ask?

My name.

(to be continued)