November is upon us, and for many folks, that means getting a head start on their Christmas or other holiday shopping. I make it a point to get mine done by Thanksgiving so I can avoid the crowds.

There’s one problem: I’m really shitty at picking out gifts for people.

You’d think buying someone a good gift would be a cinch, especially in this day and age. Online wishlists are useful, and I also use the tried-and-true method of asking people’s significant others for advice; however, I rely on them far too often. I should be ashamed of myself, as in most cases, these are folks I’ve known for many years. (Or in my family’s case, my entire life!) Why can’t I think of something they’ll really enjoy?

Only on a few random occasions have I been able to surprise someone with a gift they truly loved. I know that nobody is perfect (least of all myself), but
I strive to be better.

In some instances, I can tell that people didn’t like their gifts at all, but merely pretended they did so they wouldn’t hurt my feelings. Fortunately, this happens very rarely, but I’d prefer that it didn’t happen at all.

Bah, humbug, indeed.

I recently came across a bunch of my old college papers while reorganizing some files. While a few were generic fare, most were from classes directly related to my graphic design major (and public relations minor). That’s where the vast majority of my writing in college took place, after all.

If you find these blog posts to be an affront to proper writing, then you should’ve read the dreck I was typing up in the late 1990s.

For example, take my writing competency piece. While every major did have a writing-intensive class (in my case, modern art), students were also expected to pass a basic writing competency exam to prove that they could properly produce a well-written essay. I did indeed pass that exam, but the paper in question was just awful. My spelling and grammar were correct, but just about every other classic writing problem was in there. My sentence structure was poor, run-on sentences were far too common, and I even repeated myself. How did I pass?

My art history papers didn’t fare much better. Most of them were analyses of specific works, such as Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec’s Jane Avril Leaving the Moulin Rouge, Vincent Van Gogh’s Wheatfield with Crows, and Gustave Courbet’s The Stone Breakers. A few were critical responses to art scholars’ writings, and my senior thesis was an analysis of Captain America and his place within comic books as World War II propaganda.

Aside from having all of the same problems as before, my papers were also incredibly boring. I know that writing was never my strong suit, but it’s a wonder I got passing grades on these things. Were my professors just taking pity on me?

If you think I’m going to post any my old stuff for public consumption, you’re out of your goddamned mind. Well, let me rephrase that in a nicer way: those papers embarrass me and remind me of a time I’d rather forget. The whole thing makes me depressed, and it took a lot of rumination just to write this post about it. This is the closest to the light of day that those ancient texts will see, and that’s to the benefit of all mankind.

I thought my pronated feet were bad, but this is worse.

I’ve noticed that my posture really sucks. This was expected, to a degree; I sit at a desk and work on a computer all day. This helps to further explain my lower back pains. To make matters worse, some recent photos of me almost looked like a hunchback. I’m a lanky individual as it is, but my back and neck were noticeably out of alignment. Not good.

Since I don’t want to end up like Igor, I’m making a conscious effort to sit up straighter and align my spine properly. Chest stretches in the morning and evening should help, too. I’ve already taken steps to improve my sleeping posture, as I tend to toss and turn and twist my spine into knots at night, but I may find other ways to up the ante.

I realize my body is slowly breaking down as I get older, and that can’t be avoided. But given my medical history, I’m doing my best to nip nonsense like this in the bud before it really screws me over.

I’ve been working with computers for at least twenty years now. Like most folks in the information technology field, I started off as a hobbyist, then it became a necessity as I made my way through college and the working world.

As such, I’ve become a the go-to guy for friends and family when they need technical assistance. Normally, I do not mind this, as I like helping people. But every now and then, I come across some head-slapping moments of computer cluelessness. While they’re generally not the novice users’ fault, these issues are often hilarious (when they’re not frustrating).

Here’s a few classics from my long tenure as a “computer guy.”

• When teaching a new user how to operate their new computer, I asked them to take hold of the mouse. They did so by picking it up off the desk and holding it in front of them. (That’s when I knew it was going to be a long day.)

• A user was working in Microsoft Word, and wasn’t quite sure how to print. I was handling this problem over the phone, so I assumed that perhaps the little print button had disappeared from the toolbar. So, I simply told them to choose “Print” from the File menu. Their response? “Where’s the File menu?” (This is someone who’d used word processing programs for many years, mind you.)

• In another problem I handled over the phone, a user asked how to change the date and time setting. I told them to right-click on the clock in the lower right-hand corner and to click “Set Date/Time.” The user did so, and asked me which time to enter. I wasn’t quite sure I’d heard them correctly, but just in case, I advised them to check their watch. They then asked, “How do you know if that’s right?”

• This last story changes things up a bit; instead of the user being the source of amusing ignorance, it’s the tech support folk that fall into that category. (You know, the ones who should know better!) Way back in my college days, my school had just built a new Macintosh lab for art and design students. We were having problems with a few of the systems during an open lab period, so we called the university data center. They simply told us that “Macs suck.” I hung up the phone, and proceeded to teach myself the ins and outs of Mac hardware and software from scratch.

Got any IT horror stories of your own? Share ‘em in the comments. (Just try not to freak out like some of these folks.)

Aside from having massive feet, I also discovered earlier this summer that they’re pronated. That means that my feet are canted inward somewhat; more weight is on the inside of the sole instead of evenly distributed across my foot. This is not visibly noticeable, but it showed up pretty clearly on the diagnostic machine when I had them checked at a local New Balance store. (I also discovered I have really high arches. Weird!)

While I’m not knock-kneed or anything, this discovery certainly explains a few things. I always wondered why my feet and lower back would ache when I was standing for periods of time longer than an hour or so. I had figured it’s because I’ve never been an especially active person, and my day job is sedentary. I’m sure that doesn’t help, but as it turns out, my pronated feet are the primary cause.

There is a solution: the New Balance store offers $65 inserts to be used in any kind of shoe, and since I was there to buy a new pair of athletic sneakers anyway, they had those starting at $110. Both of these solutions were well out of my price range at the time, but since I desperately needed a new pair of shoes for the gym and such, I scoured other stores all over town for something less expensive. Eventually I had to settle on a pair of Avias, as they were the only athletic sneakers I could find that would fit me.

Well, that was a fucking mistake.

Wearing the new shoes for walks and going to the gym seemed to work fine. But the real test came when I covered the Arch Enemy show last weekend. At shows, I’m on my feet for many hours on end, and this one was no different. I assumed the new sneakers would make my feet and back feel better, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. Within an hour or two, the pain started and didn’t completely dissipate for days. It’s like I never even bought the new shoes, and was stuck wearing my worn-out pair from years ago!

So, note to self: sell some platelets or something and buy the goddamned expensive New Balance sneakers. And the stupid inserts. I may feel like an old man, but it beats the hell out of thinking that metal spikes have been driven through my heels.