That's a lot of load time

So,Cars. Comes out soon. John Lasseter. Directed Toy Story and A Bug's Life.

This is unbelievable:

Moving the car characters and adding realistic reflections and other details posed formidable problems. " 'Cars' was a really difficult film technically," said Ms. Anderson, the producer. "It's the most complex film we've ever made." Even with a network of processors that ran four times faster than the ones on "The Incredibles," each frame of "Cars" took an average of 17 hours to render.

17 hours? For a frame?

That would mean, at 24 frames per second (film), each second of movie would require 408 hours to render.

I can only assume they have render farms set up for this sort of thing, but seriously? 17 hours?

Of Note

I can't imagine that anyone possibly cares, but I finally found a way to compile every personal email I've ever sent (using Alma's account and my yahoo account...there were flirtations with usa.net and excite, and of course there are accounts for business and commercial stuff), and some numbers:

I sent my first email ever on September 5, 1998.
Since then, I've sent 6246 personal messages, including those utilized for Almanian/WQAC/Alma library/PR office purposes.
2819 days have passed.
That's 2.22 messages/day.

Wow.

Then I get thinking: How many minutes/hours/days have I spent on IM, facebook, friendster, blogging, bulletin board posting, or just wasting time searching for winamp skins?

It's kinda scary.

What's Shakin'

On your march for a World Series ring, the days meld together...a baseball game becomes another activity in a time period that doesn't run on a 24-hour cycle...there's no wake-up/work 9-5/run errands/eat dinner/watch TV and surf internet dynamic when you work in professional sports. Your cycle becomes that of the homestand and the few days preceding it you need to get ready, and you just sorta flow from one activity to the next...gameday preparation to eating to gametime to going out to getting home to sleeping to waking up to watching yesterday's Daily Show to getting ready to gameday preparation...it's actually a neat way to live, because the only thing that matters is that you're ready to go when the gates open.

That being said, May's been one crazy month.

21 days. 13 games. Andy and Chris visiting. Mother's Day. My birthday. Kelly's birthday, Stef's birthday, Jamie's birthday. Holly graduated, so I went to Richmond for that and hung out with her parents. Leah wanted to hang out. Ray Team Assemble needed constant attention. I wanted to re-read The DaVinci Code (and did on the plane ride to Richmond), slide through Wired, and watch the movies that have been for so long sitting on my shelf (Snatch and Team America). The Pistons of course got love, and now I'm getting caught up in the Tigers and the blogs about them.

And finally, finally, after being a fan for so many years, I've reached this point with baseball where I'm comfortable with it. I mean this: It's a complicated game to track, what with a team of 25 guys, only of which half, at most, will play in a day. It's different from basketball, where it's the same 8 or 9 every game, and everyone's got a defined role...you can take a player and follow him as the season progresses. It's harder with baseball, because a guy can be sent to the minors, (which until 2004, made no sense to me), which are a maze of players and potential and movement. Or guys who were once amazing can easily fizzle...if Kevin Maas stops hitting home runs, he's off the radar. Gone. In basketball, on the other hand, as Jim Jackson gets old and less effective, he transforms into that wise old veteran and role player who pops up on a nationally televised game twice a season or so. See also: Dikembe Mutombo. In short: If you don't produce in baseball, you're a ghost...I had no idea Franklyn German was a Marlin until three days ago.

Anyway, I'm now sold on that dynamic, and a player, both as an individual and a team member, makes more sense to me...I get Toby Hall's contribution to the Rays (leadership and game-calling), just as I get his individual positives (rarely strikes out). If I see on Bottomline that Paul Konerko went 3-4 with a HR and a 2B, that registers spectacularly harder than it ever has.

All right. That's very interesting, I'm sure, for everyone. Let's move on.

Do I use too many commas?

We need a new background picture on this blog. Maybe a new template. We'll see what the web has to offer.

Who are the 1/3 of the people in the country still giving our president a thumbs-up? I'm reading about Teddy Roosevelt right now, and that man would eat GDub for lunch.

Is everything on the web now designed for people with 12-second attention spans? I think this is affecting my ability to hold real conversations. AngryAlien.com has a bunch of popular movies remade, in half-a-minute, with bunnies...War of the Worlds (the original) is the best.

myspace.com is the messiest application the internet ever spit out.

Keycards for your house...sports broadcasts without announcers but with crowd noise...a giant olde english D on the building where the dolphins are outside CoPa...a device that turns your computer's heat into power...just some thoughts.

Blessed first place

Oh happy day! Oh wonderful thing of sweetness! Oh bearded Zeus...how sweet you are...and by bearded Zeus, I mean Jim Leyland, because he's turned one of the laughingstocks of baseball, one of the only things I've kept with me with my whole life, one of the things that comes every spring but is a disgrace by summer, into a Beacon Of Sweetness.

Yes, the Detroit Tigers are in first place in the A.L. Central. Not only that: They have the best record in baseball. There should be a parade in Detroit today. All schools in tri-county should be closed. Everyone should play hooky, and everyone should fill that amazingly sweet stadium tonight to watch the best team in the bigs. This is a call to action. (From a blog. It will be most effective.)

What a great thing.

Today's Question

Why does Nolan Ryan have a bio on the White House's website?

2.6

Where'd that song Move Along come from? Steven knows I love it; his nifty little macbook spun it three times for me in the control room. That might have to be the theme song for the next 365 days, to the extent I have theme songs, which is to say never.

This birthday might be the best in a while; 25 was a game against the White Sox that, being on a Wednesday, was followed by no sort of notable celebration. 24 was in Raleigh, and since we actually did birthdays there, my lovely Mudcats surprised me with a red velvet cake that was scrumptuous. 23...hmm...Washington DC. I'd be lying if I said if I remembered exactly, but I believe it had something to do with Sarah and Chris taking me out to the Tombs. Perhaps Machnackistan can provide some insight into this; he remembers everything. 22...that awkward post-college/pre-job time period of lameness...no doubt my mother throwing me a party at home and Eric/Andy/Chris and I celebrating in Warren. Somehow. 21 was around a campfire in northern Michigan. And the usual Alma-style celebrations.

Props to whoever organized basketball today.