Woody Cavenaugh

You never truly know a person until you find yourself moving offices on the same day they are. Our building has been doing a little square dance in the name of progress, something I highly encourage. Change is good, productive change is really good. This change should be a productive one. Even when it stomps flat the hearts and souls of aging programmers and database administrators, a demographic sent into a frothing frenzy at the mere mention of the word. What can I say, I get sadistic pleasure from their angst.

This whole shaking of the ant farm really gives me insight into the people around me. I find about three distinct groups, though a good sociologist could and would break it down better. There are those who enjoy change because it gives them an opportunity to try something new. There are those who accept change as inevitable and plod on. Finally, there are those who fear change with all of their being.

These reactions to change are either inherent to who they are to the point of guiding their career decisions, or it is a learned behavior perhaps brought on or further strengthened by their careers. Either way, I enjoy things and task that are varied, and my past jobs and interest have all reflected this. I will have to keep this in mind as I consider what I want to be when I grow up. My wife keeps asking me, and I had better figure out what I am going to tell her as soon as I can. ;)

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 8:28 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

I belong to a message board filled with friends both near and far who use it as a way to keep in touch even though the miles separate us. On it people feel fairly free to speak their mind so long as they are prepared to get called out on it once in a while. Occasionally, it can get tense, but like friends do, the written promise of a beer to bury the hatchet is as good as the real thing. Recently on the board I made the casual, and to my way of thinking, obvious statement that I was a centrist. You would have thought I had proclaimed the moon was made of green cheese from the reaction. No one offered an opinion of a more fitting label, but it was painfully clear to me that I am seen as a horn throwing, flaming liberal. I could take offence to that, especially since these days liberal is the new Jew, Black or Homosexual. No offense to any of these groups, and especially to anyone who happens to be all three and a liberal as well, fate has delt you a low blow with society my friend.

I am smart enough to know that if that many people crack on me for something, it must appear that I have stated some sort of mistake, or at least an outright lie. In order to get to the bottom of this, I figured I would throw out a few major political points and take a stand on them. Either my opinion will lay to the left, or it will lay to the right. My place on the political tree will be the average of them. I don't actually know why I am doing this, all of the really cool political test all say that I am a centrist, but because of my trust in and my love for my friends, I will take a new crack at this in my own less than scientific way.

1. Roe VS Wade: I support Roe VS Wade. Liberal Who am I to think I know better how to decide what a stranger should do with their own body.

2. Guns: I support the right to keep and bear arms. Conservative Disarming a population only empowers the criminal element.

3. Illegal Imigrants: I believe that illegal imigrants should be deported. Conservative Legal Imigration is fine and there should be little or no resaon to refuse the right to imigrate to anyone (In or out).

4. Prohibition: I believe that prohibition was a kooky idea. Liberal Besides alcohol is a great luxury item for taxing the bejesus out of.

5. Civil Rights: I believe that all men and women should be treated as equals. Liberal

6. Women's Rights: (See Above) Liberal

7. Gay Rights: (See Above) liberal

8. Gay Marriage: This is a tough one. I think this whole debate is nothing more than a misunderstanding brought on by some sloppy planning early on. Marriage is today really a two headed beast. One head embodies the religious aspect, man, woman, god, snake and some kings who wanted a new wife without having to kill off the old one. The other head is law, this person is legally agreeing to assign rights to property, health insurance benifits, etc to another person. Somewhere along the way, everyone seemed to see it as one creature, and you can't be legal unless god (whatever version they are worshipping today) says so. This whole thing can be solved if everyone decides once and for all, that in order for your marriage to be recognized by the church you have to follow whatever the church is telling you today. If you want to be Legal you have to get a marriage license, this gets you the inheritence rights, insurance benifits etc. If you want both you have to jump through both hoops.

9. Taxes: 10% of your salary should go to the government no matter how many kids you have or how much money you bring home. If you want to pay less, earn less. No deductions, loop holes, or exceptions. Liberal I can't imagine any rich man agreeing to this, and since most rich men seem to be conservative, that must mean I'm not on this issue. (If they did, we would have this system in place already as there are no real poor politicians at that level of Government.)

10. Religion: My first thought is to say Liberal here. I really like this new hippy diety, who has a god for a dad, a human for a mother, and is a relative newcomer on the worship circuit being dead only a couple of thousand years now. I like Jesus and he is the epitome of everything that is Liberal. Peace, love, forgiveness, he was the 1970's without the Viet Nam and the drug abuse. However, some real wack jobs on the extreme conservative side are claiming him and I'm not sure why really. Their rhetoric makes them sound like the very ones who nailed Jesus to the cross to begin with. So if I say I love Jesus I am more or less aligning myself with the ultra conservative nutjobs who are against choice, free will, and equal rights. I get a headache thinking about it. I mean, if they wanted to be conservative you would think they would ignore this Johnny Come Lately New Testament nonsense and go for that "Old Time Religion" talking animals, angry gods, and sacrifices.

Ok, that's ten lets tally up the scores.

Conservative: Guns and Illegal Imigration, that makes two.
Liberal: Roe Vs Wade, Prohibition, civil rights, Women's rights, Gay Rights, and taxes that makes six.
Unlabelable: Gay Marriage and Religion that makes two.

Huh, I guess I am a horn throwing flamming liberal. Why don't I feel like it then? I mean, I haven't stolen anyone's land in the name of Manifest Destany, or even Eminent Domain. I haven't fought long and hard against war unjust or othwise (forgive me Jesus). I haven't tried to tell anyone how to live their lives, or even try to force my personal morals on them. I think the security in London and DC is probably a pretty good idea. (Hold the RFI please, I doubt its kosher anyway.) Oh the confusion! Oh the agony! Rush Limbah, grant me the strength to want to bring Great Democracy to all oil producing countries without being distracted by things like Sudan, Ruwhanda, Somalia, North Korea, the Congo, and so on! Save me from the liberal media bent on confusing my wittle mind! Help me to know that everything we know is wrong and if we just do whatever you say everything will be right again in the world! Give me a freakin break!!!

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 8:25 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

On the way up to Alexandria VA, we took the Cresent 20, as we boarded the train we were shown to our seats by one of the conductors and they checked our tickets. They also wrote our destination code (ALX) on a slip of paper and put that above our seats. Every so often a conductor would come by to make sure we were comfortable and happy often striking up random conversations with the people around us. One of the conductors looked and acted just like he steped right out of a Norman Rockwell painting, right down to his ducktail hair style. When we got close to our stop the conductor came by to make sure we were awake and ready to depart. When we hit our station, they even helped with the carry on luggage. All we could talk about was just how pleasant traveling by rail was and how we would always look at train travel first where possible.

On the way back from Alexandria VA, we hopped aboard the Cresent 19. The conductor instructed each of us as we got on to take a left at the top of the stairs and walk back until we found a seat. The train was well underway when the first person in line turned around and announced that we had reached the end. By this time a little over half of the nine or so people had found seats. At this point, we all turned around and started walking the other way in hopes of running into a conductor who could perhaps guide us. My group walked all the way up to the cafe car and saw no conductors so we sat down there and plotted our next move. No conductor ever greated us or punched our tickets. A line quickly formed in the cafe car for snacks and drinks, and for about two hours was half the length of the car. People waiting, many of them regular train goers were upset to find that the snack bar was only staffed by a single person and he had clearly had enough. Suddenly three conductors show up and take seats in the end of the cafe car. There is a guy looking and sounding for all the world like a Sawyer reject. (right down to the aligator shoes) He apparently made his connection to the Cresent 19 (he was going all the way down to New Orleans) at Union Station in DC. But his bags didn't. I couldn't tell if he forgot his carry on luggage or if he was supposed to pick up his checked bags and check them again for the new train. Either way, they were working with him trying to get the bag situation figured out. Once he went back to his seat the conductors set to work to figure out where the three missing riders were. Um...dude, we're right here. They never asked us if we were the ones, and we made a group decision not to offer. They were the railroad professionals after all. They never so much as said "hi".

The train stopped as it did several times before without any sort of announcement and we just happen to overhear that we were in Charlottesville VA and they were taking a smoke break. The snack bar closed almost on the fingers of someone waiting to buy. The was potentially good news as we observed that the crew changed before in Charlottesville. Great news for everyone except the the snack bar guy who we found even more irate and still alone when the snackbar reopened.

The train began again and for a time the situation was unchanged. Then the train stopped. It was pitch black outside, no moonlight, no stars, nothing. After an hour of sitting here with no explaination Sara finds a 1800 number on the ticket and calls it on her cellphone to figure out what was going on. The automated system didn't tell her why we stopped, but it did tell her that we were going to be two hours late getting into Greensboro. I overheard someone ask the snackbar attendant. He didn't know anything, and wouldn't care if he did. My boss finally decited she had had enough and gaffed a passing conductor. Apparently a freight car had broken down somewhere ahead of us and we would be waiting there until it was repaired. He said they thought it would be cleared in two hours. When she asked about any seats opening up he told her that a bunch of folks had gotten off at Charlottesville and if she walked down far enough she was sure to find something.

I was sent to go find something.

Four cars later I found a car with only four people in it total. Sara and Jeanie joined me. At this point it is after midnight. It would probably be a great time to sleep. We couldn't go to sleep however, because we had no indication that anyone would let us know when we were going to hit our stop so we were left to fend for ourselves. That meant that until the train pulled into Greensboro, we were all peering out of the windows trying to figure out where we were. When the train finally arrived in Greensboro we all felt like we could finally relax.

That was of course, until we found out that one of our checked bags didn't make it. The best they could tell us was that it was either still on the train, or still in Alexandria. Sara filled out a form and they said we should call them.

On the plus side, Sunday afternoon we got the call that our wayward bag had made it back to Greensboro, so after work today we will go get it.

I still like the train, but I like Cresent 20 much better than Cresent 19.

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 8:38 AM | Permalink

The trip was definately worth it and every session I sat in, I got an ace that I could keep. For those who need an analogy Imagine if you will that this was a world wide local food conference. In each session someone comes in and tells you about a local food that they have unique to their area and all about its nutritian, difficulty to harvest, difficulty to prepare, and maybe even difficulty to eat. You have never seen this food before, and you probably won't ever. You have your own food and it has its own ups and downs. The conference is all about food, but at the same time little of it directly applies to you. That was Project Summit to me. How about another analogy. Lots of religions have the same bible, but everyone gets something different out of it. Make since? I am thinking we will have to present next year so the guys with a quarter of a million employees, (like the Veteran's Administration) can see how PM works for a group who only has 130 employees. Same processes, just used very differently.

Today check out from the hotel is at noon, the train leaves at 7pm, we will arrive back in greensboro sometime after midnight. Fencing is at 2pm. Piece of cake!

Of all the things I am leaving behind, I think I will miss the sausage the most.

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 9:15 AM | Permalink

Sara and I wandered into town today to visit some of the sights and sounds beautiful DC had to offer and we did it like locals. We rode the bus to the metro and took the metro into DC. It was a good way, and very inexpensive as well. The public transportation system here is very easy to figure out even if you aren't familiar with public transportation.

First stop, brunch at the Smithsonian Native American Museum. We had a sampler plate of six different Native American dishes. I liked them all, Sara liked all but one. That one was a cold slaw/salad that had cabage, and pinapple in it among other things. I didn't hate it, but I wouldn't order it again. After brunch we wandered the musieum avoiding the gift shops to some extent. Things there were in two categories, themed trinkets or rare authentic artifacts. At least they were priced like rare authentic artifacts. In the end, I went there because I thought Sara would enjoy it, Sara went because she thought I really wanted to go.

Misunderstanding solved, our next stop was the Air and Space musieum. This was a place I really wanted to go see, and couldn't last year. We spent what really wasn't enough time there, and moved on. We refused to even glance towards the gift shops. I think Sara knew that if I went, I would want to get something. Outside, we had Hebrew National hotdogs and bottled water from a McDonald's cart. Two dogs, and two bottles equalled $13.00. Darned find hot dog though, even if they didn't have chili, slaw, or onions. Apparently McDonald's carts only have mustard, catchup, relish, and sour kraut. Still, tube steak has never tasted so good. I am sure some will argue that bitterly in many directions but I'm not going there.

Finally I managed to get Sara to tell me someplace she really wanted to go. Talk about a morose individual! She chose the Holocost musieum of all things. Of course, in hindsight, I can't imagine someone like her wanting to do anything else. What more could one really expect from the person who is going to save the world. I felt like going in that she intended to know every person who ever lived and died during that dark time. She might have too were it not for the fact that there wasn't time, even rushing we weren't able to see half of it before they closed the place. If you are ever in DC you need to see this musieum. Like the Native American musieum, the building itself is a part of the experience, only where the Native American musieum was natural and made you feel closer to the earth, the Holocost Musieum wanted you to experience life from the perspective of the victums. it was both powerful and moving. You really probably ought to have three or so hours to take a quick tour of the place. If you have longer, slow down and take it all in. Its important. Maybe you can explain to me the fact that they have a restaurant. If my questions seems odd, you will just have to visit the musieum and see for yourself.

Tomorrow it is back to the seminars, and brown nosing sessions, back to perspective.

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 9:09 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I give Sara the credit for the title. It came late in the eight hour workshop, a time that found us burned to a complete cinder and there was no coffee in site. I did learn something today. The word "intermediate" to describe a class doesn't mean that the class is for folks with a couple years of PM experience. It means, you need to be in an environment where you use on a daily basis at least 50% of the PMBOC. (Project Management Body of Knowledge). They were discussing fusion while I was trying to figure out what color the wheel ought to be.

Yes, today I was in over my head. I'm not talking about out of place like a viking in the Iraqi war. I'm not even talking in terms of being a cro-magnon enrolled in Harvard. I am sure you heard about scientist finding on some far away island a group of tiny little humanoids that they have named "hobbits". Yeah, well that would be me, a semi-evolved sapian made president of the United States. Ok, based on events of the last six years perhaps that isn't the best example. Suffice it to say that my primitive PM world was crushed today under the weight of a very rich and mind numbing process.

Speaking for myself, I think I came away with about 10% of what the very good instructor wanted me to leave with.
Much of what I learned came in the form of observations and bullet points written on a 4X6 mini legal pad. The class was titled, "Harnessing the Power of The Project Management and Business Analyst Partnership in Your Organization." It could have been titled "Blah blah blah project management blah analyst blah blah your organization." At least I walked away with an understanding of what a Business Analyst was. It isn't what I do, it isn't what I would really want to do and it really should be called "requirements management" because the whole gist of the job was figuring out EXACTLY and unquestionabily what the client wants, what the client plans to use it for, and why.

Other observations I discovered was things like the larger project management gets the less "PM Success" you can find. I hope one day that they discover and accept that thermodynamics effects business process as well physical ones. Who knows, perhaps the PM process is what is flawed. perhaps they expect too much and overestimate to much. Their "patch" is Business Analysis which is a job and a layer added to the planning side of the process. It seems the idea is if they know exactly what the client wants to start with, they will have a better chance of actually delievering it with project management.

I also learned that this year's #1 buzword is "Synergy". Based on my observations, "Synergy" is the process of hobknobbing with your peers at other companies with the idea of selling yourself to them, or hiring someone for your company. Synergy is like prostitution with business cards. At least that is the way it is used here. I actually heard this sentence, "Get together, mingle, create some synergy!" Well, if you insist, but I don't do anal.

I think it was about 3pm when I turned my glazed eyes to Sara and she whispers to me a song she made inspired by the great musical "Oklahoma!" Oh the PM and the BA can be friends. I smell a Tony!

The best I could come up was
Our PMO's got BA too,
CI-CIO,
with a process here and a process there,
here a risk, there a risk, everywhere a risk risk,
Our PMO's got BA too,
CI-CIO
(We're gonna need a bigger cowbell.)

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 6:22 PM | Permalink

Surely as we drive into Greensboro at 2:30am on a Friday night, the city will be relatively quite... Yes, I expect the clubs to be letting out but traffic be no problem right? WRONG!

Even knowing as I did that the A&T homecomming was that night I did not fathom the chaos we found in the wee hours. It was like the Aggies won the Superbowl and every single student that ever attented came for the home game. And I'm talking about both living AND dead.

Never in my life have I seen four lanes of traffic blocked because of lines going to fast food drive throughs on both sides of the road. McDonalds, had a drive through line that spiraled around the building twice before spilling onto summit. The two lines of walk up at CookOut, was as long as the two lines of cars. The only fast food place dark was Sonic and the carhops had errected a barricade that they were cowering behind.

Friendly Avenue, from all of the honking and yelling, and walking around looked like a riot zone and the poor officers who were trying to keep the traffic moving needed riot gear.

A friend of mine from Maimi who had also witnessed this event said, "It was like a Maimi riot!"

UNCG never threw a homecomming like that! (Would the city survive if they did!)

Finally we made it to the freshly restored depot and that was a treat! What a way to start a five hour train ride!

It iis now 1:51pm. It feels to me like 9pm, with bonus daylight. I just had some of the most fabulous chinese food I have ever had and all I can think about is how much I need to just shut up, let you know I made it to DC happy and in one piece. Now I may sleep....

Who knows, maybe when I wake up the Million Man March will be over.

Good night...err...afternoon...

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 1:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

After comming off of the wonderful coverage of The Downtown Fencing Club's[/url] first annual Titanic Open. We were treated to a nice followup with scores.

I am willing to forget every nasty thing ever said about them by local bloggers!

Many thanks to the N&R, and I look forward to future collaborations.

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 12:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Why the first event inspired the second I have no idea. Just nod and smile, I have no other other advice for you.

It all started with a police car pulling a driver on Market Street down town just before six pm yesterday. It was clear from the pulled car that they came from one of the center lanes. You could plainly see that from the sharp angle the car went into the parallel parking space at the side of the road. The effect was that the lane was blocked by the patrol car which parked in such a way as to protect other motorist from the back corner of the offending vehicle. People get pulled all the time, and I suspect down town even more often. Realistically I shouldn't have given it a second glance, but there was just that something extra involved that turned a mundane event into a photo opportunity. (And me without a camera.)

The pulled vehicle was a drivers education car, complete with the roof sign! I am sure that the reason the car was pulled was mundane, but I can't help but let my imagination go wild.
"Yes, this will effect your final grade".
"There is still time to drop the class without penalty."
"Move over, and take the wrap for this and I will pass you, my orange is spiked with vodka and I can't get another DUI."

The last one was from experience. Back in highschool one of the drivers education teachers daily ate a spiked orange in the car. The students knew it because the smell of vodka wasn't really disguised by the orange itself. In hindsight, I have to say I sympathize with the man, and hey, its not like he was driving himself. He sure didn't ever share his oranges.

Anyway, I'm having a good laugh over seeing the driver's education car pulled over and thusly arrived in fencing in an even brighter mood than normal I was still basking in the afterglow of a really successful tournament and great press coverage. There is only one thing to do!

When I stopped fencing at UNCG some years ago, I fitted into all of my gear. The couple of years I took off from fencing wasn't that good for my clothing. It all shrunk in the closet to the point that I couldn't wear it any more. To teach I had to buy a new jacket, which for some reason ended up many sizes larger than my old one. I can only assume that the first jacket I bought was sized American and this new one is sized foreign or something. At any rate, by some coincidence I am now also extremely close to my phase one deliverable of 300 pounds.

It was time to keep my hopes down, and put my money where my ass was. I grabbed my knickers off of the shelf where I had put them as "loaners" since I couldn't wear them anymore and walked into the locker room for a harsh dose of reality. That will teach my euphoria a thing or two!

Five minutes later I walked back into the gym dressed in regulation equipment totally legal for competition. Reality had been turned on its ear, and sent to its room crying without dinner.

An hour of intense footwork, and bladework drills later I sat down, popped the mask and gazed at myself in the mirror across the room. "That's odd", I thought. I could see the white uniform from the white shoes to the white socks, to the white (well fitting) knickers, to the white jacket, where my face ought to have been was a blur, it was like I had suddenly developed chameleon powers or something. At either rate appart from the hair and the whites of my eyes, my face was completely undistinguishable from the brick wall I was sitting against. Apparently this new surreal reality (surreality?) was trying to tell me that I was done for the evening.

Either way, it seemed like a good idea and I went with it.

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 8:45 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

That must be the plan. It is all part of the FBI anti-obscenity squad's plan to shut down a text only web site because the words found within were deemed "obscene". Apparently, the pay site in question accepts submitted stories of the erotic nature and was shut down for it. If they took down a website with erotic stories, surely Vladimir Nabokov (author of Lolita), and Anne Rice (who has written quite a few erotic tales herself) are next. Will they dig up the corpse of Nabokov and slap the cuffs on him in the name of "Smut Busters". I don't know, but my freedom of speech alarm is sounding off.

I look forward to how this goes down in the supreme court. Will they allow the Feds to decide what is decent and what isn't, or will they allow all Americans to have freedom of speech?

I know it isn't excatly "real" free speech. I know a whole bunch of things I could write right here that would get me visited by the feds. Sure they would bat me around a little, perhaps even violate me analy, but ultimately they couldn't do anything legally (unless I meant what I wrote and they could find evidence of it.)

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 1:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

First The Setup then The Event, now the wrap up.

Everything went extremely well, the press was excellent, and I couldn't be happier. But as the event wound down, I still had one more problem to worry about and that was returning the Coleman Gym to the state we found it in. The gym normally houses all of UNCG's gymnastics equipment, much of it old and all of it expencive to replace. Back in the UNCG Fencing Club days the trick was trying to keep the club members from leaving early and sticking the core group to tear down and clean up by ourselves. I had seen so many times before in the past couple of days in so many ways that this simply wasn't the same fencing club. Still it was such a pleasant surprise to be able to say to our chief armorer than we wanted to move the direct elimination bouts to the front of the gym so we could begin moving the gymnastics stuff back into the back of the gym as a way of getting a head start on clean up. Than looking up some time later and being shocked to see that our volunteers had swarmed over there and taken care of the whole thing without my even realizing they had started. Just like a dream. By the time the awards for the last event were handed out we were 3/4 of the way packed and loaded. They eneded up having to wait for me to take down the computers and printers that comprised the registration table. Any smoother, and I would have suddenly found myself sitting alone on the floor of an empty gym. It was almost sureal.

The event was so successful I actually look forward to February's Veteran event we're hosting called, The Duel in the Downtown.

Thanks everyone...
Just like a dream

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 10:37 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

If I had to choose the single most difficult part of running a fencing tournament, It would be the setup of the tournament, the running of the tournament, and the breakdown of the tournament. Setup as you may have already read was just like a dream. I fully expected the dream to be over at 7am when I go into my office with a bag of coffee to brew for the staff and the referees. The last precious moments of peace and sanity were spent at my desk making last minute emails and a hoodie for Henri (sounds like a band).

Back in the day, we operated on "fencing time", registration might close at the time you posted, but fencing would start when it started and not a second before. Back then, for each fencer you had to have a waiver, and a fencer card. The fencer card was a 3X5 card, one for each fencer in each event. The card listed their name, club and rating in the competition. Once registration closed these cards would be separated by club for each event and ranked in order with the highest rated fencer on top and the lowest at the bottom. For all of the unrated fencers you tended to have to call a representitive from their club to come over and rate them for you. Once you have a pile of cards for each club you formed pools dividing the clubs and the skill levels between all of the pools with the goal of making each pool of equal difficulty. When the results of the first round of pools came in you had to transfer everyone's scores and statistics over to their individual card, and with that informaiton create a second round of pools, this one more even than the previous based on the statistics from the first pool. Once that pool was finished you would copy that information over to each fencer's card and set up the direct elimination tree so common in other sports. Now imagine if you will, you are holding in one day three events and thirty people showed up. Half of those people were competing in two events and say five were going to fence all three. That means that as the organizer you have fifty cards to keep up with and updated. A good organized team of experienced event staff could start an event about a 45 minutes to an hour after the close of registration. Back in the UNCG fencing days, we seldom held more than one event per day, and with our most organized and skilled event staff the fencing could run on into the evening as late as 9pm. Remember, registration closed at 9am.

Now instead of running on fencing time, we run with "Fencing Time". This tournament was the very first time I would use this software, and I admit I was more than a little worried about trying to run a tournament with 18 events per day using a piece of software I had never used before.

OMFG! This is the coolest software ever. Its very existance could prove the existance of god, and I am not exagerating. In the old days one event might take 45 minutes to an hour to get started initially, and it could easily take another 45 minutes to an hour between pools and before direct eliminateion. Now the only lag between close of registration and start of pools is the speed of your desktop printer. Fencing Time did everything but referee. I was able to download all of our preregistrants into a format that the software could use to put them with their information into their events. Once the whole tournament was finished, I was able to export a file with the results that I was able to suck back up into the website for instant posting of the results. They simply thought of everything.

I could spend the rest of this posting singing the praises of the best $50.00 anyone involved with fencing can spend, but I have more praise to heap around, and I am afraid I might be boring to read so on we go.

One of the things we did right was have event staff T-shirts made in a nice bright color. The other was putting those t-shirts on the best bunch of adults and teens one could hope for. Nothing that needed doing was left undone. Everyone worked well together and helped to make our tournament a raging success. Not only from the standpoint of logistics, but just plain good public relations. One of our veteran fencers brought in some outdoor lawn signs pointing the way to the parking lot as well as the building, this helped not only the fencers comming in from out of town, but also the curious, who had never really seen fencing before. One of our parent's contacted the News and Record and the result was six hours of reporter/photographer time and one of the best write ups I have ever seen on fencing in Greensboro. We had a father son team running our merchandicing booth, and a fencer's father helped in the armory, while a fencer's mom manned registration with me taking fees, and getting waivers signed. Even our fencer's who weren't eligable to fence, turned out to score, timekeep, and even referee. As amazing a job as the software did of the administrative side of fencing, our club members and parents were just as amazing at the people side. We couldn't have had such a positive reaction from participants, parents, and fans without them.

I couldn't be more thrilled to be involved in fencing, and all the demons I brought with me were cast out thanks to this event, and I have everyone to thank for that.

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 9:25 AM | Permalink

It was with some excitement and apprehension I walked into the Coleman Research Gym that dark and rainy night. It was a space I knew all too well. The UNCG Fencing Club was born in that space, and the last time I had anything to do with fencing at UNCG it was in that space. The fencing club was born there, and it grew there, fortunately when it got sick, it slunked off to the campus recreation center to die. There isn't a smell much more depressing than dead fencing club.

I have a great many memories of fencing in the space, both good and bad. Ironically, most of the bad memories of fencing in that gym centered on setting up fencing tournaments, which was a shame since that was what I was there to do. Back in my college days, we were a college club filled with real college students. The men were really disfunctional and thought they knew everything, the women were really psycho for the most part, but at least they were generallly cute. We weren't NCAA, we were the other guys. We were the freaks and the geeks who were drawn to fencing for reasons that had little to do with being athletes. We were out of shape, and we were awkward, even those who had played high school ball sports. Most notabily, we weren't team players, and that was the one thing we all had in common.

Setting up a tournament in those days meant we trickled into the gym between 7:00 and 8:30 and argued bitterly over how many strips and which direction they should go in. The actual setup began around 9:00 or so when the losing half left in a huff to either drink at Hams or sneak onto the roof of McIver Building to fence. We typically got finished by 11:30 or so, went to Hams, ate, drank, and vowed to be in the gym the next morning by 8am. (Few ever managed to keep that vow.)

Now I am with a different club filled with a very different group of people, or at the very least the same group of people only they are either too young to be in college, or old enough to have graduated and gotten over themselves. Never was I more aware of this then when they arrived en masse right on my heals ready and able to do what needed to be done to get they gym ready for fencing.

Instead of set up being a gang war over neutral ground with factions fighting with every last breath (sort of like congress), I was a conductor, and our club's members were highly skilled musicians. We went from a gym filled with ghost and memories, to a six strip fencing salle in record time and still had plenty of time left to stand around making last minute plans and decisions. The spirits of Bob, and Ben had been exercised, leaving behind only the spirits of Mark and Noah.

It was a good night, and a very good omen for things to come.

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 8:52 PM | Permalink

Yesterday I went to my acupuncture appointment over at The Lotus Center, it was pouring down rain but I parked in the street and walked across a gravel parking lot belonging to the church. When Michele moved into the new location she made maps for all of her customers to the new location with careful note to please park in the street as the empty lot belonged to the church. With the rain as hard as it was, I toyed with the idea parking in the empty gravel lot rather than walking across it to maybe stay a little dryer. The lot however had a chain across it, no big deal really, the rain wasn't cold.

I get to the front door and I find a letter taped to it. It was from a lawer's office. I won't mention it's name but if you rearrange the first letters of the partner's names, B, P, M, H, and L, you can spell BLMPH (pronounced "Blimp"). The two page letter contains three lies, an a misunderstanding, all wrapped in the sterotypical "vague threat" that one has come to expect from lawyers everywhere thanks to television, newspapers, and real life.

What makes a church threaten an acupuncturist? Apparently the occasional customer had been parking in the gravel lot next to The Lotus Center and fire, and brimstone is threatened to follow from the hands of gods own law service whom the almighty seems to have on retainer.

Now me, I agree with you completely. If Michele's customers were keeping the lot even half full during business hours that might impact the church's parking when they need it. I suspect you also figure that Michele could just go over and ask for permission to rent the lot during business hours. A good idea. She thought so to, because she approached the church before she bought the house, as she was moving into the house, and after she was moved into the house. She and her husband offered money and landscaping so that her customers might use the lot during business hours (Monday through Friday, 8am til 5pm). The Church said no each time, which is their right to do.

Shel, Michele's husband, who has a passion for landscaping and bicycling, has even found him self "shunned" by church members. One day he sees them out working on a path on their grounds near the business and he goes over and offers to grab his shovel and pitch in to help. They didn't even acknowledge that he had spoken. None of them would even look at him as he tells it. Some of you in Greensboro might have met Shel through his bicycling interest. If there is any sort of public meeting about bicycle or pedistrian initiatives in Greensboro, you are sure to see him there. For those who have not met him, take my word for it, he's probably one of the nicest, most laid back individuals you will ever meet. Their behavior towards him seemed pretty far from christain. Unless of course they are Puritians and not really presbies. I remember in US history that the Puritians were always shunning somebody.

Turns out the chain across the lot was put there to specifically to keep customers out. Perfectly in their right to do, and very economical I might add. But apparently not enough, as the church is kicking out some serious dough to make the lot completely inaccessable even down to redoing the sidewalks so you cannot enter the lot from Lawndale or Bluemont. They are even planning to put up a fence to keep people out. Extreme, expencive, but completely within their rights. I am glad that the church is making so much money they can do all that and still have enough to do all of the good christian acts and programs that christian charities are famous for.

Eariler I said that the lawyer's letter had three lies and a misunderstanding in it. Some of you, especially you esquire types, are probably waiting impatiently for me to comment further on that. I will list them.

First the misunderstanding: "In addition, you have now begun forcing customers of your business to use the Church's parking lots by placing an orange traffic cone in the driveway at 2412 so that customers fo your business cannot user your own driveway."
I suppose it looks that way to them. There is infact an orange cone in the driveway. The reason for it is simple, a. anyone who parks in the driveway is going to get blocked in by the car that parks behind them. b. Anyone who parks in the driveway is going to have to back onto Lawndale drive, no easy feat, even for the folks who have houses in that area. There is a shopping center across the street, and traffic is hairy at best. Blocking the driveway does two things only, a. it keeps customers from being blocked in, and b. it keeps customers from getting into auto accidents.

Now for the lies:
Lie Number One: "...you have encouraged customers of your business to park in the Church's parking lots" The first I knew they were moving to the new location was when they gave me my appointment card and a map with directions to the location and specific note not to park in the lot but to park in the street.

Lie Number Two: (And this is a stretch)...those parking lots are required for the Church's own use, not only during hours of worship on Sunday but for Nursery School, Senior Citizens, Youth, Bible Study and other programs occurring at the Church throughout the week. The Bluemont lot is never filled to capacity. In fact it never really has cars in it except for during worship hours that I have seen. (And those do not fall during business hours anyway) I can't believe the way they are behaving that they are really seriously optimistic about ever filling all of their parking lots. So while it may not exactly be a "lie", it clearly falls into the category of "weak ass excuse".

Lie Number Three:...your blatant attempt to further your own commercial interests at the expense of the church. Does that sound christian to you?

Lie Number Four: The Church has a long history of being a good neighbor to the owners of houses that border the Church's property on Lawndale Avenue. Really, than why are you being such a poo poo head in this letter? This sounds more like legal representation for a politician, not a church. Why are you trying to buy the surrounding houses only to tear them down? Why are there people putting in their will language stating that you may not buy their property upon their untimely demise? They don't even want you to have their house "over their dead bodies".

Still, I say, and I say again. Those parking lots are theirs to do with as they will. If they say "No your customers can't park there." than it is settled. If you want to spend money to rework the parking lot so it will be impossible for people to park there, that is totally your call and I respect your wishes to do so. I do however think that it is an awful lot of mean spiritedness, cost and bother to stop customers of The Lotus Center from using your lot during business hours.

Especially in light of the fact that they never have more than three cars a the business at any one time. Michele can only really handle two patients at once staggered thirty minutes apart for their one hour treatments. That's two cars. The third is only occasionally when someone comes in to buy herbal tea that they couldn't get during their own appointment.

All of this over three cars???? Don't you guys have souls to save or something?

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 10:08 AM | Permalink | Comments (17)

A couple of years ago I made a sign for my car that I thought was appropriate. It summed up my attitude, my personality, and my politics all in one simple brief statement. Since that time, I have seen so many people stop, stair, photograph, share with others, and admire I realized I must be on to something. This said I have now created a small line of "Militant Omnivore" gear to sell. Any money I may or may not see from anything sold I can use to help offset the cost of the hardware and software that for years I have used for free here on tp.org. I certainly won't do it with just my day job!

Plus it helps to draw attention to a largely ignored sector of the population, the centrist. Both sides malign us if we are lucky, most will simply label us one extreme or the other. Others try to belittle us by saying things like, "Centrist are simply people who can't make up their minds." That statement couldn't be farther from the truth. Centrist are people who can make choices well enough to want to choose between the widest list of options available. The last thing we want to be is stuck in a position where everything is black and white, and you blindly follow what the person ahead of you is doing.

Extremism is just another word for crazy. Or in a more political correct way, extremism is just another word for crack pot. That has to be more political correct than my second choice, "poo poo head". Militant Omnivore, its the way I eat and the way I vote, balanced. Vegans are just another word for "what's for dinner".

So buy a sticker or something please, Woody needs a new archive template.

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 3:00 PM | Permalink

The Downtown Fencing Club's first annual Titanic Open is this Saturday. Cam and I have found ourselves suddenly at the head of the organization committee and let me tell you, its cold out here! Typically I we always do our part to help organize the tournament. For the first time we are the organizer's of the tournament.

Last night (T-5 days) we discovered that we hadn't gathered all of the awards we would need for all of the events. You know, stuff like the 39 third place awards for instance. We're all good now, but I think I took years off my life in the process. Fortunately those were the senile ones where I would have been running up and down the halls of the old folk's home naked. And they say stress is a bad thing!

We also realized that we never quite got around to getting the referee's lunches delt with. Should be taken care of by Friday. Should be taken care of by Friday. Should be taken care of by Friday....

On the plus side, the Downtown Fencing Club now has stuff to buy. Who can resist cool swag!

ah crap...hotel rooms for the referees! Wait, that's done. Wheew....

ah crap...143 days until the Duel in the Downtown... I am a leaf in the wind...I am a leaf in the wind...I am a leaf in the wind...chocolate chip? I don't remember eating chocolate chips?

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 4:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

一条母狗的儿子 !

There ain't no goram reason why a science fiction movie has got any right to make a grown man cry like a babe in arms.

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 8:29 AM | Permalink