Category: Doug

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Why Is Programming Fun?

A couple of weeks ago, I finished reading The Mythical Man-Month: Essays on Software Engineering, Anniversary Edition (2nd Edition), after leaving it sitting on my dresser for ages. The book is a collection of essays about software design, the most famous of which became the book’s title—expressing the fundamental idea that adding personnel does not necessarily allow a project to be completed faster, just as nine women cannot produce a single baby in one month.

That particular essay, and probably several others, is worthy of a separate discussion; but one Frederick Brooks eloquently expresses has been on my mind for several years.

To be honest, I love my job. (Now, this isn’t to say I wouldn’t rather be paid to travel the world, build with Lego, or quest in World of WarCraft.) I can’t think of anything I’d rather do as a career than be a programmer, except maybe astronaut or Supreme Dictator of the Western Hemisphere. I had been mulling over exactly why this is for a very long time. Frederick P. Brooks has expressed what I feel far more eloquently than I believe I am able:

The Joys of the Craft

Why is programming fun? What delights may its practitioner expect as his reward?

First is the sheer joy of making things. As the child delights in his mud pie, so the adult enjoys building things, especially things of his own design. I think this delight must be an image of God’s delight in making things, a delight shown in the distinctness and newness of each leaf and each snowflake.

Second is the pleasure of making things that are useful to other people. Deep within, we want others to use our work and to find it helpful. In this respect the programming system is not essentially different from the child’s first clay pencil holder “for Daddy’s office.”

Third is the fascination of fashioning complex puzzle-like objects of interlocking moving parts and watching them work in subtle cycles, playing out the consequences of principles built in from the beginning. The programmed computer has all the fascination of the pinball machine or the jukebox mechanism, carried to the ultimate.

Fourth is the joy of always learning, which springs from the nonrepearing nature of the task. In one way or another the problem is ever new, and its solver learns something: sometimes practical, sometimes theoretical, and sometimes both.

Finally, there is the delight of working in such a tractable medium. The programmer, like the poet, works only slightly removed from pure thought-stuff. He builds his castles in the air, from air, creating by exertion of the imagination. Few media of creation are so flexible, so easy to polish and rework, so readily capable of realizing grand conceptual structures. (As we shall see later, this very tractability has its own problems.)

Yet the program construct, unlike the poet’s words, is real in the sense that it moves and works, producing visible outputs separate from the construct itself. It prints results, draws pictures, produces sounds, moves arms. The magic of myth and legend has come true in our time. One types the correct incantation on a keyboard, and a display screen comes to life, showing things that never were nor could be.

Programming then is fun because it gratifies creative longings built deep within us and delights sensibilities we have in common with all men.

I also loved the way Brooks closes his preface: “Soli Deo gloria—To God alone be glory.” This isn’t a perspective one generally finds in books about software.

(Excerpt from Frederick P. Brooks, The Mythical Man-Month: Essays on Software Engineering, Anniversary Edition (2nd Edition), © 1995, Addison-Wesley Longman, Inc., p. 7.)

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Today, I Could Put on My Shoes!

Throughout this illness, which appears to be Poststreptococcal Reactive Arthritis (although it could be something else), my health has been quite varied. (Also as suggested by the Long Island personal injury law firm, I have filled in some medical detail after the symptoms descriptions; mostly to clarify what PSRA is, and how and why my treatment is progressing the way it is.)


No, these aren’t my shoes, but … dang … [Enunciate the last bit the way Will Smith recommends Beatrice (Edgar’s wife) hire an internal decorator in Men in Black.]

For example, here’s how the past few days have gone:

Thursday: Ibuprofen taken at night allowed me to move fairly well in the morning. As soon as I woke up, I took my prednisone, and within a couple of hours, was able to hobble about without much pain. I had a doctor’s appointment mid-day, but worked at the office and from home around the appointment, and felt very good. By late afternoon, I had a fever, and needed to take a short nap. Still, I managed to get to and lead our small group Bible study, with Nichelle driving. I felt good, and didn’t take any extra medication at bedtime, when the prednisone was definitely beginning to wear off.

Friday: Not taking the ibuprofen seems to have been a big mistake. I awoke at about 5:00 a.m. with serious pain and movement issues. I could barely move my legs, and couldn’t use either hand. I waited until 6:00 to take the increased dose of prednisone Dr. Eranki prescribed, but it took hours to have a noticeable effect. I did go to work, but didn’t make it into the office until 11:30 a.m. Due to the pain and swelling in my left middle finger, typing on my left hand was reduced to 1-finger. Still, in the evening I felt very good. Nichelle and I were able to attend “Run for Your Wife,” a TCAN Players [hilarious] comedy play featuring co-worker Laura Crook.

Saturday: I felt good for a few hours in the morning, but spent most of the day fighting the low fever, playing some games with the kids and hanging out in Azeroth, spending an inordinate amount of time trying to beat a seasonal instance.

Sunday: Good in the morning. I was able to drive to church early for my Geek work (A/V), and even ran a couple of quick errands in Nashua after the service (pharmacy; gas for the mower). By mid afternoon, the fever was back, and I spent a couple of hours starting at supper time just sleeping. Afterward, I felt pretty good.

Today: Today I was able to move my legs well enough to put on shoes and socks for the first time in several weeks! (After taking prednisone a few hours earlier.) The biggest problem today is my left hand. I do have a low fever, but it’s only about 1/2 a degree above normal, which to me is starting to feel normal.

By this evening, my movement ability had dropped a bit, but not much, but I became febrile again enough to notice. Oh, well, today was better than usual.

PSRA Details / Symptoms / Concepts

Tomorrow will mark my fourth week since the onset of obvious symptoms, and I had noticed some minor symptoms before that. Wow!

Poststreptococcal Reactive Arthritis is only a probable diagnosis. I will have an echocardiogram in a few weeks, as well as another Lyme disease titer, to rule out Rheumatic Fever and Lyme disease, respectively.

However, PSRA does seem to fit the symptoms. Neither PSRA nor rheumatic fever are testable conditions; they are syndromes—collections of symptoms—and the symptoms must be weighed carefully to figure out what the overall diagnosis should be.

The biggest meaningful symptoms or test results have been a positive blood test for a recent strep infection, the swelling and joint pain in my legs, hands, and shoulders, the fever, and vast number of negative tests for heart problems, liver function problems, active infections, etc.

Note that arthritis essentially means joint pain, so the reactive arthritis (assuming that it what I have), is not the type of arthritis that we all tend to develop as we age. (There is some x-ray evidence of that happening in my back, which is completely normal for this point in my life, and has not affected me in any way.)

I have a few days to go on my antibiotic treatment, and have already started tapering down the prednisone. Today has been my best freedom-of-movement day so far, and I hope that trend will continue. The guys in my at-work Bible study laid hands on me and prayed for my recovery today, which was very moving.

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Poststreptococcal Reactive Arthritis (Probably)


BLOG readers begged for Calvin and Hobbes …

At the moment I feel sleepy but almost good, after a feeling very miserable all morning, and sleeping most of the rest of the day.

My rheumatologist, Dr. Eranki referred me to an infectious disease specialist, Dr. Strampfer.

We discussed all sort of symptoms and possibilities. He fell for our typical joke of, “I’ve had this pain in my neck for 16 1/2 years,” almost recording that as a symptom.

The two front-runners are Poststreptococcal Reactive Arthritis (PSRA) and Rheumatic Fever. Although the diseases present slightly differently, there is still debate among some doctors as to whether they are indeed separate diseases, and not merely different manifestations of the same thing. Rheumatic Fever can lead to heart damage, which I don’t have, although I may get long-term antibiotic treatment if Rheumatic Fever is considered a probable diagnosis.

Poststreptococcal Reactive Arthritis, however, is fascinating, and perhaps a better match. I had one blood test in which my ASO was elevated, showing a past Group A beta-hemolytic streptococcal infection. One of the ways in which PSRA differentiates from Rheumatic Fever is that the joint pain in PSRA responds very poorly to normal anti-inflammatory drugs, like ibuprofen, which has, indeed, provided me nearly no relief. Another strike against Rheumatic Fever is the lack of Sydenham’s chorea symptoms—“rapid, uncoordinated jerking movements affecting primarily the face, feet and hands.” (Although I have been described as an uncoordinated jerk, that isn’t quite the same.)

Other possibilities include Human Parvovirus B19, but it seems not quite as likely. Likewise, my retest in a few more weeks for Lyme disease will be carried out, although we don’t find that as likely, either, it’s very important to diagnose as early as possible, as it can cause very serious long-term damage if untreated.

Today I am back on prednisone (a corticosteroid), for a longer-term treatment. It’s offered the first significant relief in about two weeks. I cannot express how wonderful it is to be able to stand and sit without being in serious pain while moving, nor just to be able to sit or lay down for a while without being able to get comfortable. I still limp quite a bit, but my stride has gotten longer than 6 inches, and each step isn’t accompanied by pain. The fever continues, albeit more intermittently, making this day 21 with a fever, blowing away whatever my childhood chicken pox fever record was. I have been very sleepy today, but I think it’s just my body catching up on rest after being in constant pain for nearly three weeks.

But … by the next morning (18 hours later), the prednisone has mostly worn off. The fingers in my left hand are almost impossible to move, and my stride is much shorter again. :: sigh :

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Walking? Nyet.

This comic from Bloom County keeps coming to mind. (Copyright 1983, the Washington Post Company. Used under the “Get with It, This Is the 21st Century” interpretation of the Fair Use clause.) See http://www.berkeleybreathed.com/.

Today I received numerous answers from my doctor; unfortunately, they were all along the lines of “Those results were negative,” or “I don’t know.” I do know that I’m still running a fever (even after 5 days of antibiotics), but it seems to be slightly more controllable with medication, and it is nearly impossible for me to walk, even with Vicodin helping to manage the pain.

On the bright side, my echocardiogram concluded that the enlarged heart shown on my chest x-ray was simply a test anomaly. This also concluded that, if I do have rheumatic fever, it hasn’t done any damage to my heart. Still out there is the possibility of Lyme disease.

One ironic thing is that I have a severe vitamin D deficiency—just like what incapacitated Nichelle for many years. (See, there would have been ROI on that cube with a window view I recently requested at work.) However, the vitamin D deficiency isn’t likely to be the cause of my symptoms, as it wouldn’t cause the localized swelling, nor fever, and wouldn’t have set in so suddenly. (It’s also easily treated.)

I see an infectious disease specialist tomorrow, and I see my rheumatologist again on Thursday; we hope for more definitive answers. So far a large number of things have been ruled out. I’ve had so much blood and fluids drawn in the past week, that my weight has dropped 3 pounds.

I am grateful for the dedication my ever-growing medical team has shown. My fellow church members and family members are praying for my recovery. My wife and children are incredibly helpful. Nichelle keeps life manageable, and the kids typically function as my extended arms and legs, without complaint.

I have gotten much support as well from my co-workers. Many have called or e-mailed to see how I am doing. “Tovarich” Gary Dlugy is going to feed my tarantula, Susan (named after one of our VPs at Kronos). Sarcasm master Joe Royal sent these words of encouragement, which would have left me rolling on the floor if I’d been able to do such a thing:

Things are a little dull without you. Meetings start on time and stick to the agenda. Management is starting to be worshiped. It’s becoming a very unproductive work environment.

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Day 13

Nichelle and I are reprising the roles we had when she was so ill, albeit we have swapped who we are playing. I get to play the part of “Nichelle, the inexplicably sick one,” and she gets to play me.

Today is Day 13 with the still-unexplained fever, leg pain, phalanges pain, and swelling. (The swelling in my leg and foot has become quite “interesting.”) None of the tests I’ve had (and there have been many) have found anything conclusive. I will see a rheumatologist soon (I hope before my currently scheduled appointment of July 8 ), and continue to work—much—with my own primary care office.

The forecast seems to call for uninterrupted fever, with a scattered chance of more severe pain, and increasingly widespread swelling.

For example, yesterday I went to church, and Nichelle drove us to Randolph to celebrate Debbie Civil’s 18th birthday and high school graduation. (Debbie is a blind girl in a wonderful Christian family who used to, along with her siblings, ride our bus to church at New England Baptist.)


The Civil Family and the Wilcox Family. Debbie is the second person to the right of Nichelle. (At this point I could even squat down for the photo, albeit stiffly.)

I hobbed about, but felt pretty good, and was able to walk almost normally for a couple of hours in the afternoon. On the way to the party I slept; on the way back we stopped at the Natick Mall to see the completion of a 7-foot-tall R2-D2 (which we contributed to on Saturday). In the very short walk through the mall, my leg got worse. By the time I went to bed, the pain and swelling was worse.


I offed to take this home for them, but they didn’t think it would fit in our van. (See the swelling in the leg?)

I awoke at 5:30 a.m. with my leg in considerable pain, my temperature up to 100.9 (at 101.5 my doctor’s office wants to know about it), and that awful everywhere-hurts-because-I-have-a-fever feeling. I was also really hungry. I gobbled acetaminophen and ibuprofen (and cereal), and then slept virtually constantly until noon.

Today I’ve managed a little bit of work, but the fever and finger pain is still there, so I haven’t accomplished very much. I am trying to let my body get the rest it needs, it just doesn’t seem to be helping much.

In addition to work, I’ve just got to get better for our church trip to Strategy Zone on Saturday.

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What’s Wrong with … Doug?

Okay, here’s the deal …

Last Tuesday (May 27) I was falling asleep in a meeting. Now, bear in mind, I often fall asleep in meetings, but not usually in meetings of only a few people and where I am one of the key participants. I excused myself and went home sick.

(As I think about it, a week earlier I had been complaining that muscle pain all across my upper back—I thought from weight lifting—had lasted more than a week, and when I sat down to do chest flies, I discovered I couldn’t put much pressure on my left arm in the direction required.)

The next few days I took half days off, plus one full day, fighting a low fever (1 to 1.5 degrees above normal), working when I didn’t feel in that brain-dead state that fever brings on.

Meanwhile, I started having more and more stiffness in my legs, especially after sitting down for a while, and developed a pain in my fingers, particularly around the proximal phalanges.

Thursday I got in to see one of my two N.P.’s at Nashua Primary Care, and she explained that it was probably viral, and ordered a slew of blood tests, including a Lyme disease titer, because a number of the symptoms matched Lyme, even though we had not observed a tick bite or the infamous bull’s-eye rash from one. The only abnormal result was a slightly elevated sed rate, which indicates inflammation of some kind. However, Lyme disease antibody tests can be negative for several weeks even when symptoms have begun to present, so I have a retest in three weeks.

Monday had me phoning the doctor’s office again, explaining that the difficulty walking had gotten much worse beginning on Sunday. Questions and answers went back and forth throughout the day and the next morning, but around noon Tuesday (day 8 of fighting the fever), after confirming some swelling in my left leg (which I was completely oblivious of, but which Nichelle spotted right away), they referred me to the emergency department at Southern New Hampshire Medical Center. (I wasn’t even up to playing World of WarCraft on Tuesday morning. Tragic.)


(Enterprise E sick bay drawing courtesy of www.ex-astris-scientia.org.)

The primary reason for going to the E/R was because such swelling can be caused by a DVT (I would explain, but that would save you the fun of some Wikipedia research) or a blood clot in the lungs.

More blood was drawn. Twice, actually, the first batch turned out to be unusable. (I warned them not to expose it to sunlight or tachyon radiation …)

Nichelle dropped me off, and brought everyone by when she picked up Isaac and David from school. Shortly thereafter, as I was being wheeled to the Radiology department (my first trip on a gurney since infancy), both Isaac and David asked, “If you die, can we have your World of WarCraft gold?” Weasels.

The ultrasound and X-ray didn’t turn up any clots; however, the chest X-ray showed an enlarged heart (and you all thought my heart was two sizes too small), so in addition to still having a problem with whatever is causing me to be unable to walk, I’ll be visiting a cardiologist soon.


Admit it, this is more like what you expected.

The hospital gave me a tapered dose of prednisone, which, for 23 hours, allowed me to hobble a lot faster. It was a delight to wake up this morning and be able to move my legs with almost no difficulty, especially as on Tuesday I was nearly completely crippled, and the pain in my hands was so bad I couldn’t even open a soda bottle. But around 5:00 p.m. today the leg pain when moving set in again, and I was back to smaller steps (although not nearly as bad as Tuesday).

I have an appointment to see my own N.P. tomorrow night. I’ll have a cardiology appointment as soon as my doctor’s office can arrange one. (They are remarkably adept at getting a squeeze-in consultation; I’ve seen them turn an 8-week wait “even if your doctor refers you” into a three day one.) Possible causes for the enlarged heart are an infection in the past that caused tissue damage, or—as I learned about through my own research today—a completely benign condition called Athlete’s Heart Syndrome (see also this article) which sometimes develops in people who do a lot of cardiovascular types of exercise.

Ignoring the enlarged heart and going back to the original symptoms, I called my sister Cindy last night and learned that my niece Jenn had exactly the same symptoms, and is currently recovering finally after a round of antibiotics. The only test that she had come back positive was one that indicated an exposure to strep at some point. This matches a bacteriological diagnosis, rather than a viral one, but her case baffled her doctors for a while, and, they too suspected Lyme disease.


The weasels just want my gnome engineer Mortalan character’s gold if I kick.

Being sick like this has made me appreciate much more how difficult it is for those with movement-related disorders or painful problems like arthritis. I also have a much better understanding of just how difficult it was for Nichelle all those years when her vitamin D deficiency left her debilitated.

Still, I find many blessings. Kronos’ sick time policies are excellent, and the superb insurance for which they are paying means I do not have to worry about the medical bills. I can work from home to coordinate with going to appointments or on those mornings when I’m not sure how well I’ll feel, and keep up with work e-mail, etc., even when too sick to go in. I get to experience my children’s delightfully twisted senses of humor in a time that might have been stressful to them. Nichelle is a constant help to me as well. I continue to benefit from (and am particularly grateful for) the large amount of time coordinating my case that my N.P.’s Celine Fortin and Rebecca Cooper-Piela and my “nurse-on-the-phone” Fran have put in.

I am glad God doesn’t want my life to get too boring.

(The saga continues on the post entitled Day 13.)

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A quick family update….

When Naomi woke up this morning, I asked her if she slept well, and also told her that I was happy she slept all night in her own bed. With the cutest glimmer in her eyes, she then told me that she had “the most wonderful dream in the world.” She then explained that she dreamt about Speed Racer, and that she was 5, and they went on vacation and they visited her and they talked. She had this twinkle in her eyes and the sweetest smile. She said that she never had this dream in her whole life.

Naomi’s been using Isaac’s scooter in the house for a bit now and has great balance. Phil pointed out to her that she may be ready to use her bike without training wheels because she can balance so well on the scooter. Man, oh, man, did she like that idea. She was quick to ask Doug to take the training wheels off her bike and is doing amazingly well. We took video of her mastering her skill at the two wheeler. It’s too soon for my liking, although that’s a mom thing!!! I’m, of course, proud of her accomplishments, but she’s growing up too fast.

David, after years of begging for glasses, got his wish. Doug took the kids to their appts a few weekends ago (Naomi’s first eye exam, too), and David was told that he needed glasses. He picked out the ones he wanted, and was told that they’d be ready in a week, but … the week came and went and still no glasses. He was disappointed to find out that he needed to wait several more days because there was a problem with the lenses and needed to be returned to the company to have them corrected. He finally got his glasses yesterday, and of course, he’s thrilled.

Isaac celebrated his 13th birthday the end of April and we’ll be celebrating with a party this weekend. Can’t believe he’s already a teen. [Doug’s note: He’s had the attitude of a teen for at least five years now, it certainly doesn’t surprise me.]

At the end of April, Naomi and I spent 4 days in DisneyWorld. Yup, just us girls, with two of Phil’s sisters and niece. We had a great time. Loads of fun watching Naomi’s expressions on the rides and just the fun she had with MacKenzie. Doug and the boys had a great time, too, as expected by me anyways. He took the boys indoor skydiving, which I’ll be doing sometime soon. We have a video of that along with pictures that David took. Those should be posted soon, too.

More from Doug. Nichelle is the biggest weasel in the world for going to DisneyWorld without us. I would certainly never go on such a trip without my wife.

In addition to indoor skydiving, David, Isaac, nephew Andrew Roberts, and I visited the U.S. Navy Submarine Force Museum, which is home to the USS Nautilus, the world’s very first nuclear-powered submarine. For technophiles like us, this was a perfect trip. In fact, we were late picking Nichelle and NaNi up at the airport because we got to talking to a submariner who was stationed on the USS Henry Clay (a “boomer”—a ballistic missile submarine) in the 1960s. In addition to touring the Nautilus, we got to play with various submarine control stations, see a lot of weapons, including a disassembled Polaris 3 MIRV, use working periscopes, and learn a lot about the history of the US submarine force. Jim, the sailor from the Henry Clay, also answered a question that was very important to me: Which movies about submarines are actually accurate. He said the Widowmaker was highly accurate, but admitted that others could still be entertaining. I’ll post pictures from this trip soon.

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Gin, Television, and Social Surplus

While I am working on posts about “The Weaker Vessel,” and “Verbal/Emotional Abuse” (and looking into how a ‘bot hacked my BLOG files to include hidden Spam links), here’s a bit to get you thinking:

Clay Shirky published a lightly edited transcript of his speech at a recent Web 2.0 conference, entitled, “Gin, Television, and Social Surplus.”

You will definitely want to read the whole post, but here are a few noteworthy excerpts:

Starting with the Second World War a whole series of things happened–rising GDP per capita, rising educational attainment, rising life expectancy and, critically, a rising number of people who were working five-day work weeks. For the first time, society forced onto an enormous number of its citizens the requirement to manage something they had never had to manage before–free time.

And what did we do with that free time? Well, mostly we spent it watching TV.

How much television do we watch?

[H]ow big is that surplus? So if you take Wikipedia as a kind of unit, all of Wikipedia, the whole project–every page, every edit, every talk page, every line of code, in every language that Wikipedia exists in–that represents something like the cumulation of 100 million hours of human thought. I worked this out with Martin Wattenberg at IBM; it’s a back-of-the-envelope calculation, but it’s the right order of magnitude, about 100 million hours of thought.

And television watching? Two hundred billion hours, in the U.S. alone, every year. Put another way, now that we have a unit, that’s 2,000 Wikipedia projects a year spent watching television. Or put still another way, in the U.S., we spend 100 million hours every weekend, just watching the ads. This is a pretty big surplus. People asking, “Where do they find the time?” when they’re looking at things like Wikipedia don’t understand how tiny that entire project is, as a carve-out of this asset that’s finally being dragged into what Tim calls an architecture of participation.

This reminds me, I was listening to “This American Life,” episode 328, “What I Learned from Television.” In a live broadcast, Ira Glass announces to the audience that average Americans watch 29 hours of television a week. There is a loud, collective gasp from the audience, which is composed of course, of not merely NPR listeners, but NPR listeners who paid to go out and see a live presentation of the radio program. Twenty-nine hours is the average? Suddenly I don’t feel so bad about playing World of WarCraft.

As Shirky writes,

In this same conversation with the TV producer I was talking about World of WarCraft guilds, and as I was talking, I could sort of see what she was thinking: “Losers. Grown men sitting in their basement pretending to be elves.”

At least they’re doing something.

But I digress.

As I write this, our pastor is speaking on “Reflections from the Back of a Bike,” noting how we prefer to ride in a car metaphorically driven by the pastor, instead of providing our own power on a bicycle, comparing the early church’s prayer to “speak the Word of God with boldness” as recorded in Acts 4:29 to our typical prayers of, well, whatever; of how we fail to really act on our belief in an Almighty God and actually serve Him with actions, every hour of our lives. How we need to embrace the mission of Christ and actually do something to reflect what we say we believe.

To be honest, I have heard many such sermons over the years, but this one is different. It’s Scriptural. It isn’t designed to evoke an emotional response. Its success won’t be measured by the number of people who raise their hands or “go forward” to the altar. Its success will, rather, be measured by how we let Christ give us boldness to use our associations and talents and burdens to change others’ lives. It’s real. It’s a reflection of how he actually lives in following Christ.

And the Word of God convicts me, that I ought to be so focused.

P.S.: Shirky makes some fascinating conclusions based on analyses of both current society and the Industrial Revolution, getting into such subjects as cognitive surplus, shared information projects, and participatory media. It’s one of the few must-read pieces I’ve encountered in the past year. He wraps up with a look into this gem (which in this context of excerpts seems disconnected, but in reality is not):

I was having dinner with a group of friends about a month ago, and one of them was talking about sitting with his four-year-old daughter watching a DVD. And in the middle of the movie, apropos nothing, she jumps up off the couch and runs around behind the screen. That seems like a cute moment. Maybe she’s going back there to see if Dora is really back there or whatever. But that wasn’t what she was doing. She started rooting around in the cables. And her dad said, “What you doing?” And she stuck her head out from behind the screen and said, “Looking for the mouse.”

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I Told You I Was 1337!


I told you I was 1337, as this compilation screen shot shows.

I grabbed this screen shot at work today. Every developer wants to write 1337 code, but I think this proves that I’m doing it.

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Doug’s New Dress

Shopping for a new dress is hard.

This is true even with the wonder of the Internet, although the Internet certainly changes it from being nearly impossible to mostly possible, it is still decidedly difficult.

Background: Every January or February, Kronos, the company for which I work, holds its annual Winter Thaw event for the employees and their dates, in lieu of a Christmas party. Starting with an event scheduled at the MFA several years ago, the events have been hosted at various museums or similar venues. This year’s event, which took place last Saturday, was held at the Peabody Essex Museum in Salem, Massachusetts.

With Nichelle’s incredible weight loss and constant fitness training, I wanted her to have something for her to wear to the Thaw that would accentuate how much more stunning she has become in the past year or two. Or, in other words, I wanted her clothing to be as beautiful as she—which is, of course, impossible.


The absolutely stunning Nichelle wearing the gown I purchased for her.

I did some searching online, and quickly determined that J.C. Penny appeared to have gowns like I wanted in a price that was affordable. Macy’s had gowns, too, but was quickly excluded due to their prices. Also useful was J.C. Penny’s different views of each item, normally with at least one photograph in each of the available colors. With that, I also able to figure out what style and color were most likely to be pleasing. One interesting factor is that clothing available online tended to be available exclusively online, and there was no indication of what the local store branches would actually contain. (Men would never settle for this when it comes to electronics items. One would think women would be equally demanding. Perhaps years of nonstandard sizes in everything from blouses to shoes have simply worn them down.)

So, with Nichelle’s size stealthily extracted during a conversation about weight loss, NaNi and I went off to the mall one Monday after Nichelle had gone to work, to see what our local Penny’s had in stock. The Internet browsing allowed me to essentially go “buying”—I had no interest in “shopping”; this is another difference between men’s and women’s desired commerce experiences.

They had quite a few choices, but that was narrowed down by the available sizes. NaNi still preferred the more “princessy” outfits, which were more suited for a prom than the Thaw, although there was one slightly showy dress that might have been “mature” enough to fit, that I considered. That being said, I picked out a red strapless gown that was classy without being overly fancy, and was delighted to find one left in the right size, and it was even on sale. NaNi talked me into checking the Disney Store for the “Mermaid Swimsuit” she insists they have, and used her extra-cute-face to manipulate me into buying her a Tinkerbell dress, which was half-off. I figured it was fair enough, as I’d saved money with Nichelle’s dress on sale.)

I brought the dress home, eager for Nichelle to see it. She loved it! But, when she tried it on, we discovered one of the hazards of all the weight training she’s done. Although it fit perfectly nearly everywhere, her back is so muscular that she couldn’t zip it up.

So, back to J.C. Penny I went, hoping it to exchange it for one size up before they closed…

Unfortunately, there wasn’t a single dress in the size we needed. They were helpful, calling other area stores, and checking the inventory system; but not one of the gowns I wanted in the size needed was available within 50 miles.

I checked Sears. Nothing but prom dresses in juniors. I went home, and back to the Internet.

A nearly identical dress was available as a catalog order, but in the size we needed, it wasn’t available in a color I knew Nichelle would want. Grrrrr!


“Classy Nun” or “Bride of the Penguin”? Poor color choices. (The woman is a bit pale, too.)

Then, I noticed something I’d overlooked at least 15 times in two days. The dress, pictured above, was also available in cranberry! It would be perfect, if it were in a solid color. The silly white-on-black cuff (Classy nun or Bride of the Penguin?) had turned me off, even thought I liked the overall style.

But I had to be sure. So I found and phoned J.C. Penny’s customer service department, and the lady there confirmed that the cranberry dress was indeed a solid color. Even better, I could have the dress shipped to the catalog pickup at Penny’s in Nashua, and it would arrive by Saturday at noon, about six hours before we needed it.

The dress actually arrived on Friday afternoon, so I picked it up on my way home from work. It fit perfectly, with the results are shown at the top of this post.


To modify a line from Always: Nichelle is all twisted steel and sex appeal. I can’t be with a woman who looks like I won her in a lottery.