FeuerThoughts

Interesting article in the Chicago Tribune today: "Toyota rebuts claims of SIU professor: In webcast, consulting firm re-creates electronic glitch in other vehicle brands".

First, David Gilbert demonstrates to Congress a way to cause sudden acceleration in Toyota vehicles.

Then Toyota countered his demonstration as follows: "Using similar methodology, engineers at Toyota's facility on Monday duplicated the results on camera in seven other vehicles, including a Chevrolet Malibu, Honda Accord and Ford Fusion. Officials said the results, though not maligning other manufacturers, show that the methodology was essentially flawed."

Gee, I don't know. It seems like you could just as legitimately conclude that the problems experienced by Toyota owners could well be showing up in other vehicles.

I must admit that as a programmer, it scares me to think that my safety (and the safety of my family members) when driving is so dependent on software.

Pizza Hut is advertising (hard) its new recession-proof pricing: "Any piza. Any size. Any crust. Any toppings. Just $10." See? They say so right here:


 But wait! Is that fine print at the bottom? Yes, it is! And what does it say? "ADDITIONAL CHARGE FOR STUFFED CRUST PIZZA"
Now, I must admit: $10 for a pizza that is loaded up with a bunch of stuff is a good deal (unless you simply won't buy food at a place like Pizza Hut because it will also be loaded up with high fructose corn syrup and other "food products"). That's not what bothers me.
What really bothers me is the blatant manipulation and assumption that we are all rather dumb. They come up with a marketing line that is very powerful - but a lie. It's not "any pizza, any crust".
Why oh why can't everyone be as logical and straightforward and honest as a software programmer?

I get kind of sad sometimes, watching people disappear into their mobile distraction devices. iPhones and their like certainly offer new opportunities for community and entertainment, but mostly it seems to me that they lead to isolation in one's physical context (aka, the real world) and lack of introspection.

So here is my idea for a truly useful iPhone app: Basta! (which means "Enough!" in Spanish)

Basta would allow you to request disabling of specific features of your iPhone (or all of it, just turn it into a black slate) for a given period of time.

Basta makes it easy for you to answer questions like: "Can I go 10 seconds without reading/writing texts?"

But the really exciting, Web 2.0 feature of Basta is that your friends (via Facebook, etc.) can challenge you to specific Basta restrictions: "I bet Steven can't go more than an hour without sending a tweet." and so on. All dares - proposed, accepted, denied and the results - are posted to your Facebook page and can be seen by others.

So you can build reputation and status around your ability, willingness, discipline to step away from devices and instead interact more with real live, breathing humans.

Or just watch more TV.

Anyway, that's my idea of a really great app!

Sometimes I just have to laugh out loud at the media and the way things are reported. Consider this photo and tag line on the front page of the Chicago Tribune today:


 
 It says "Stunning run by an unknown - American Byron Wilson comes out of nowhere to snag the bronze in moguls."
What I find so odd about this is the idea that any of the athletes who are competing in the Olympics could be "unknown." You only get to the Olympics if you are the best of the best, verified through a multitude of contests. In fact, Wilson won the U.S. Championship in 2009 to secure his spot on the "B" OIlympics team, and was a former Junior World Champion.
The only way that any of these Olympic-quality athletes could be considered "unknown" is by the Tribune deciding that they weren't worth "knowing" - until they won a medal.

On January 13, we buried my father, Sheldon Feuerstein. On January 25, we buried my sister, Laurie Feuerstein Walsh. It has been a horrible couple of months (December and January). I can only hope that the rest of 2010 is better for all of us.

I feel very strongly that both Dad and Laurie had health problems contributing to their deaths that came from the foods they ate and the toxic environments in which they, we all, lived (any urban environment saturates us with toxins). Those same foods are likely causing problems for the rest of us, too. I have lately been struck by how ridiculous it is that food has become such a complicated and treacherous affair, that we seem to need nutritionists and scientists and politicians to decide what is good for us to eat. Isn't that strange? Humans have been finding, growing, preparing and eating food for thousands of years - and surviving quite well, thank you - without all this "assistance." And in the US, where the nutritionists reign supreme, we are getting fatter and sicker with each year. Something is so deeply wrong with this picture.

Fortunately, I think the solution to this problem is very simple: "Eat Food. Not too much. Mostly plants."

That is the mantra of a man named Michael Pollan. He has just published a book called Food Rules, which I urge you to purchase and read immediately (only $5 from Amazon!).  This small, very accessible book offers simple, practical advice regarding food that can help all of us regain control of our bodies and our health.

Here is what I have decided so far from reading this book: I am going to stop purchasing packed, processed food products (not the same as food) as much as possible. No more Ritz crackers (absolutely yummy with PBJ), no more ramen noodles (I love those with a generous helping of sauteed brussel sprouts).

NO MORE HIGH FRUCTOSE CORN SYRUP at all. I will check every package. I am now convinced more than ever that that stuff is a poison (or at the very least a drug) that operates at a very deep level on our physiology, making us fat and sick.

If you are sick or you have a family member who is sick; if you are affected by any of the four "Western diseases" (obesity, high blood pressure, diabetes or cancer); if you simply don't feel all that great (low energy, acid reflux, etc.) - then please, please, take a serious look at a serious change to your diet. It could make all the difference.

My sister, Laurie Walsh, died on Saturday, January 23, 2010, at the age of 46. She was a sweet, generous, loving mother, wife, sister, daughter, aunt and friend. She leaves behind an 11 year old son (and light of her life) and a husband.

Over 150 people attended Laurie's funeral service on January 25, on a day of truly horrible weather (pouring rain and driving winds). The outpouring of love for Laurie was overwhelming. We, her family, always knew how special she was, but we had no idea how much she had touched the lives of so many others.

Here's how I see it: Laurie was a true American hero. She believed in and dedicated herself to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

Life: Laurie did not have it easy. For the last ten years of her life, she was ill, fighting auto-immune diseases and other challenges. But she refused to let it stop her or dissuade her from doing the things she wanted and needed to do for her family and for herself. She was always cheerful and positive with friends and family. She was determined to live her life as fully as she could.

Liberty: Laurie was her father's daughter. She did not want to depend on others, whether physically or financially - and like her father she was very stubborn. What this meant was that Laurie was always ready and willing to pay a long term price (with her medicines, for example) so that in the short term she could keep going, stay functional, maintain as normal as possible a life for her son.

And then...the "long term" became the now...and she paid the ultimate price.

Pursuit of happiness: Laurie was all about love, especially love of children, love of being with children, taking care of children, making children laugh and making sure they knew how special they were, each and every one. But there were two people in the world who were the very wellspring of happiness for Laurie: her son and her husband. I am so thankful that Laurie met her husband and that her son came into this world to give intense purpose and focus to Laurie's life.

Laurie struggled with learning in conventional ways in school, but she was an incredibly determined fighter - once she set an objective for herself, she never let up until she achieved her objective. And so it was that she graduated with a B.S. in microbiology from Stonybrook University on Long Island and took a job as a medical technologist and phlebotomist at NYU Medical Center. Her friend Susan told us that the doctors at NYU would seek out Laurie to do the testing for their patients because she was so competent and dependable.

When she became pregnant, she had to quit the job and always missed it greatly. She could have gotten the job back, but it would have required working nights and/or weekends, and she refused to compromise on spending time with her son. Her son arrived early and required lots of diligent mothering, from which Laurie never shirked. And from her son's birth to Laurie's death, children (first and foremost her son, of course) became the central theme of Laurie's time and effort.

Laurie was the president of the Parent's Association at her son's school, ran the Scholastic book program, and volunteered for any and every job. She taught herself how to use the computer and Internet to make cards and menus for events, keep track of payments and volunteers, and so much more. Her friends begged her to do less, to take it easy, but she refused with indignation to let up in any way.

Laurie worked as a teacher's assistant at the Central Queens Y, surrounding herself with children - and every single one of them was special to her, was greeted with a big smile. One teacher told me how a parent would arrive with a child who was upset, hysterical with crying, her nose running - a real mess. Kind of disgusting - but not to Laurie. She would welcome that child as if no one in the world could ever make her happier, as if she would rather do nothing else than wipe that kid's nose and give a big hug.

As a Feuerstein, Laurie inevitably harbored strong creative inclinations. She did a lot of drawing when she was young, but as an adult she found her artistic medium of choice in scrapbooking. She made the most wonderful scrapbooks, and she made everything from scratch - no shortcuts for her! She also loved to take photographs - of family events, of activities at school, of (more than anything and anyone else) her son. Shelley, a teacher for whom Laurie worked, told us that Laurie had a special gift: she could capture in her photos the inner life of a child, that you could see in her photos what a child was thinking, feeling, hoping for their lives.

[I hope to be able to post these photos and also scrapbook pages on the Internet at some point so we can all appreciate her work.]

My father died on January 9. He lived a long, full, life (for more about Sheldon Feuerstein click here) and while I miss him greatly, his death made sense in a way. It was part of a normal course of life and death.

But Laurie? I cannot make sense of Laurie's death. Her life was too much of a struggle, her death came much too soon and left too much pain and suffering in its wake.

But if she were here now, reading this, she would scoff at me. She would tell me that you play with the cards you are dealt and you make the most of what you are given in life. So that is what we will do: make the most of and with the life of her smart, funny son with a big, bright smile.

And, you know, I find that I can sum up Laurie's life in one word: love.

She was all about love: giving it in great abundance, taking it from others in every possible moment and form, shining her incredible smile on the children around her, making them feel special - and loved.

Laurie Feuerstein Walsh - we loved you and we will always miss you.

[Laurie was a member of Young Judea and greatly enjoyed a school year spent in Israel as part of that program. We ask that donations in her memory be made to Hadassah's Young Judea program.]

My sister, Laurie Walsh, died on Saturday, January 23, 2009, at the age of 46. She was a sweet, generous, loving mother, wife, sister, daughter, aunt and friend. She leaves behind an 11 year old son (and light of her life) and a husband.

Over 150 people attended Laurie's funeral service on January 25, on a day of truly horrible weather (pouring rain and driving winds). The outpouring of love for Laurie was overwhelming. We, her family, always knew how special she was, but we had no idea how much she had touched the lives of so many others.

Here's how I see it: Laurie was a true American hero. She believed in and dedicated herself to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

Life: Laurie did not have it easy. For the last ten years of her life, she was ill, fighting auto-immune diseases and other challenges. But she refused to let it stop her or dissuade her from doing the things she wanted and needed to do for her family and for herself. She was always cheerful and positive with friends and family. She was determined to live her life as fully as she could.

Liberty: Laurie was her father's daughter. She did not want to depend on others, whether physically or financially - and like her father she was very stubborn. What this meant was that Laurie was always ready and willing to pay a long term price (with her medicines, for example) so that in the short term she could keep going, stay functional, maintain as normal as possible a life for her son.

And then...the "long term" became the now...and she paid the ultimate price.

Pursuit of happiness: Laurie was all about love, especially love of children, love of being with children, taking care of children, making children laugh and making sure they knew how special they were, each and every one. But there were two people in the world who were the very wellspring of happiness for Laurie: her son and her husband. I am so thankful that Laurie met her husband and that her son came into this world to give intense purpose and focus to Laurie's life.

Laurie struggled with learning in conventional ways in school, but she was an incredibly determined fighter - once she set an objective for herself, she never let up until she achieved her objective. And so it was that she graduated with a B.S. in microbiology from Stonybrook University on Long Island and took a job as a medical technologist and phlebotomist at NYU Medical Center. Her friend Susan told us that the doctors at NYU would seek out Laurie to do the testing for their patients because she was so competent and dependable.

When she became pregnant, she had to quit the job and always missed it greatly. She could have gotten the job back, but it would have required working nights and/or weekends, and she refused to compromise on spending time with her son. Her son arrived early and required lots of diligent mothering, from which Laurie never shirked. And from her son's birth to Laurie's death, children (first and foremost her son, of course) became the central theme of Laurie's time and effort.

Laurie was the president of the Parent's Association at her son's school, ran the Scholastic book program, and volunteered for any and every job. She taught herself how to use the computer and Internet to make cards and menus for events, keep track of payments and volunteers, and so much more. Her friends begged her to do less, to take it easy, but she refused with indignation to let up in any way.

Laurie worked as a teacher's assistant at the Central Queens Y, surrounding herself with children - and every single one of them was special to her, was greeted with a big smile. One teacher told me how a parent would arrive with a child who was upset, hysterical with crying, her nose running - a real mess. Kind of disgusting - but not to Laurie. She would welcome that child as if no one in the world could ever make her happier, as if she would rather do nothing else than wipe that kid's nose and give a big hug.

As a Feuerstein, Laurie inevitably harbored strong creative inclinations. She did a lot of drawing when she was young, but as an adult she found her artistic medium of choice in scrapbooking. She made the most wonderful scrapbooks, and she made everything from scratch - no shortcuts for her! She also loved to take photographs - of family events, of activities at school, of (more than anything and anyone else) her son. Shelley, a teacher for whom Laurie worked, told us that Laurie had a special gift: she could capture in her photos the inner life of a child, that you could see in her photos what a child was thinking, feeling, hoping for their lives.

[I hope to be able to post these photos and also scrapbook pages on the Internet at some point so we can all appreciate her work.]

My father died on January 9. He lived a long, full, life (for more about Sheldon Feuerstein click here) and while I miss him greatly, his death made sense in a way. It was part of a normal course of life and death.

But Laurie? I cannot make sense of Laurie's death. Her life was too much of a struggle, her death came much too soon and left too much pain and suffering in its wake.

But if she were here now, reading this, she would scoff at me. She would tell me that you play with the cards you are dealt and you make the most of what you are given in life. So that is what we will do: make the most of and with the life of her smart, funny son with a big, bright smile.

And, you know, I find that I can sum up Laurie's life in one word: love.

She was all about love: giving it in great abundance, taking it from others in every possible moment and form, shining her incredible smile on the children around her, making them feel special - and loved.

Laurie Feuerstein Walsh - we loved you and we will always miss you.

[Laurie was a member of Young Judea and greatly enjoyed a school year spent in Israel as part of that program. We ask that donations in her memory be made to Hadassah's Young Judea program.]

My father, Sheldon Feuerstein died, on Saturday, January 9, 2010 from heart failure, at the age of 80.

Dad leaves behind his wife of 53 years, Joan; sister, Lilyan; four children, Jaye (Sela), Steven, Shari (DeUrso), Laurie (Walsh) and Nina (Rosenthal); nine grandchildren, Christopher, Eli, Masada, Timnah, Danielle, Benjamin, Markus, Liana and Sally. His family was the center of his life and we all - those above and many nieces, nephews, cousins and friends - mourn his passing, but celebrate a life well-lived.

Sheldon was born on October 7, 1929 to Jacob and Rose Feuerstein. He was the fourth of five children, the other four all sisters: Belle, Lilyan, Edy and Nancy (and what an odd coincidence that he had five children, and only one son among them). His father was an acclaimed pattern cutter (he would cut the original pattern of the dress, from which others were made) and my father idolized him.

Sheldon met his wife, Joan, at a dance, and that happened (according to legend) only because his friend, Stu, insisted that he come out to play. A short time later, they were married. And from then on, they were never apart. When Dad almost died in 2007 and went through a ( triple bypass + new valve - gall bladder ), Mom never left his side and helped him regain his life (and even improve on it in many ways). She was the center of his world, and he could never quite believe his luck ("I don't know why she puts up with me," he would say, shaking his head).

Sheldon was, professionally, a lawyer and CPA (certified public accountant). He practiced for decades in New York, and then relocated with Joan to Florida in 1996. As an accountant, he also taught himself computer programming, in particular RPG on an AS400, and built his own custom applications to manage his clients' financial affairs. That probably doesn't mean much to some of you, but his son (aka, me), a professional computer programmer, was way beyond impressed that he could do this!

He was a man of many interests and talents, and without a doubt he felt that his first calling, his great passion, was for art and not numbers. While he was not able to remain in the school, his acceptance into the Cooper Union School of Art as a young man remained a point of pride for him his whole life. He was an accomplished painter and his work graces the walls of Joan and Sheldon's home in Boynton Beach, as well as many other homes and some synagogues.

Sheldon approached the world with avid curiosity and was always interested to learn more, especially in the sciences. His passions (besides his family and his artwork) over the years ranged from chess and model airplanes, to photography (he built a dark room in his basement) and astronomy.

He played an active role in each synagogue of which he was a member, from the Suffolk Jewish Center in Deer Park , NY to Temple Torah in Boynton Beach. Israel, its land and people, figured large in his life. His several visits to Israel always excited him and never satisfied him. He longed to visit "one last time," but his health did not permit this.

Family was such a big part of his life. When he grew up and when we (my sisters and I) were growing up, the extended Feuerstein family (including Schuckmans, Knollers, Kleins and Gventers) would gather on a weekly basis or more frequently, for barbecues, holidays, birthdays and so on. It was a wonderful way to be raised, and I miss it. That was definitely one of the drawbacks to moving to Chicago: I moved away from most of my family in New York.

As a Dad to his only son, my father went to great lengths to both share his passions with me and also to ensure that I enjoyed other activities that he thought were important for me, though they might not be his forte. Namely: doing things outdoors. My dad was a bit of a desk potato and workaholic (gee, I guess that's where I got my "work ethic" from), but he enrolled me in the Cub Scouts, then Boy Scouts, and went on many camping trips with me. These were not his favorite thing to do, but he did them because he felt they were the right thing to do. I am so glad he did, and sad that I did not make more of an effort to do the like with my own children.

But I will always remember lying side by side in sleeping bags on a clear cold night in the woods, with snowflakes falling down over us, looking up at the stars. There had been some screw-up and so we didn't have a tent, but we didn't mind. It was wonderful.

My dad had a long (but not long enough), full (but there always room for more), successful life, surrounded by those he loved and loved himYou can see many photos of my dad, from all throughout his life, here. Perhaps best of all, you can enjoy his artwork here.

I miss him more than words can say.

My dad, unfortunately, is in the hospital (not the best way to celebrate the New Year, but there you have it), so I am in a hospital room watching what my Dad likes to watch on television, which turns out to be (among other things) Law and Order - Special Victims Unit.

And I am very alarmed.

I don't watch much television. Actually, just about the only television I watch on a regular basis is the Daily Show with Jon Stewart and the Colbert Report. The main reason that I don't watch a lot of television is that it scares me. I "like" it too much. I watched lots of television when I was growing up and I find the television way too compelling. I start to watch it and I cannot stop.

Now that I have learned more about how the brain works, I understand better why I am like this - and it makes me even more frightened of television. Our brains are sponges, absorbing data (visual data, aural data, smells, tactile feedback), searching out patterns, and then making decisions (and taking actions) based on those patterns.

Television is a particularly powerful feeder of data, with its combination of sound and visuals, and specifically voices and faces, which humans have a hard time blocking out. So it seems to me that the stuff we watch on television can have an enormous impact on how we feel about ourselves and the world around us.

Which brings me back to Law and Order SVU - it is, of course, just one of countless police and forensic/crime programs proliferating on TV these days. And as I watched it here in the hospital, I found myself getting agitated. How could I not? Bloody scenes, highly dysfunctional, psychotic people, bad things happening to good people, tension, anger, grief....

[Just watched a young woman lie on the floor with a knife in her heart bleed to death.]

And I worry that anyone would want to watch these sorts of programs. What is it about humans that we would seek stimulation through the virtual brutalization of our fellow species members? What are we missing? A lack of purpose, send of excitement in our own dull lives? A "safe" connection to people who are hurting, as a way to assuage guilty feelings about our relatively comfortable existence?

Whatever it is, it doesn't feel very healthy to me. I think I will stick with science fiction.

Serena Williams received 66 of 158 votes to be selected as the 2009 AP Female Athlete of the Year. I like Serena. I like to watch her play. I like to watch her curse at referees. So I checked out this article on the big news.

And I scanned through the article until my brain stopped short on this line:

"Zenyatta, the 5-year-old mare who capped her 14-0 career by becoming the first female horse to win the Breeders' Cup Classic, finished second for the AP honor — with 48 fewer votes than Williams."

Yes, that's right. They rank human beings and horses (and dogs and all other sporting creatures, I presume) in the same poll. That doesn't seem right, does it?

And poor Kim Clijsters, another tennis player. She ranked third - behind a horse!

Prague is one of my favorite cities - my friends at Oracle (and now beyond Oracle - a "shout out" to Petra, Martin, Roman, Monique, Lenka...) have always taken such good care of me; the sidewalks are nothing short of amazing - yes, the sidewalks; great restaurants; beautiful bridges and buildings.

Wouldn't it be nice if everyone (excepts hordes of drunk Brits) could visit Prague? Well, now you can sort of, by visiting this site. It is an 18-gigapixel panorama photo of Prague that the photographer describes as follows:

"This is a super high resolution photo. Use your mouse to zoom in and see a startling level of detail. This image is currently (as of 12/2009) the largest spherical panoramic photo in the world. It is 192,000 pixels wide and 96,000 pixels tall. That’s 18.4 billion pixels, or 18.4 gigapixels! When it’s printed, it will be 16 meters (53 feet) long at regular photographic quality (300dpi). It was shot in early October 2009 from the top of the Zizkov TV Tower in Prague, Czech Republic. A digital SLR camera and a 200mm lens were used. Hundreds of shots were shot over a few hours; these shots were then stitched together on a computer over the following few weeks."

Enjoy!

Today, December 9, 2009, is one of my favorite days of the year. Why is that? Because it marks the very last time in 2009 that I will be in airplane and be at O'Hare Airport.

Yes, with three weeks to spare, I will not do any more flying in 2009.

Sadly, I managed another 100000+ mile year with American Airlines - 61 "segments" = about 30 trips, so on average flying twice a month...hey, that doesn't sound too horrible does it?

Sure, AA makes it pleasant enough - pretty much automatic upgrades on all domestic flights, lots of "Thank you for your business, Mr. Feuerstein" when I step onto a plane, invitation to visit all the first class lounges of co-share partners like Japan Airlines and British Airways when I travel internationally....yes, somehow I survive.

Still and all, I very much prefer being at home (even if it is cold and snowing).

Wishing the best to everyone during the holidays,
Steven

I spent last week in Europe, a very nice trip in many ways. I was invited by the German Oracle User Group (DOAG) to do a keynote presentation at their annual conference in Nurnberg (Nuremberg). So I built a week of activities around that event.

First of all, I flew out to Germany from North Carolina, where I'd spent the weekend watching my nephew, Brian Daniels, play in his last college football game (actually in Danvilla, Virginia, at Averett University). Now he will continue to train hard, attend the Spring 2010 Combine, and hopefully be invited by an NFL (or other professional football league) team to actually make a living from football. Talk about tough jobs.

I have discovered that it's quite a lot fun hanging out with college football players. In my experience, these massive, heavily muscled, incredibly disciplined young men are also unfailingly polite and very sweet. Big teddy bears. Until they get on the field. Then it's all business.

Well, so from Raleigh, NC, my wife Veva went home on Sunday - and I took a flight to Heathrow. Then after a few hours layover (spent comfortably in the British Airways premier lounge in Terminal 5), I took another plane to Frankfurt, and from there a 2.5 hour train ride - and finally I was in Nurnberg. I was up for over 30 hours, but I must say my body is a strange machine. It doesn't really object too much to such situations. In fact, when I got to the hotel after being awake for some 25 hours, I went down to the fitness and exercised for an hour.

In any case, the DOAG conference was incredibly well-organized and well-attended. I did a short technical talk on Tuesday, organized at the last moment, and still had an overflow crowd of developers show up. DOAG asked me for a "head shot", so I sent my standard zip file with a wide variety of photos, mostly just to be entertaining. For example, it contains this photo:

But that doesn't mean they are supposed to use such photos, correct? Well...you never know. So DOAG (and Quest Germany) apparently decided that they wanted a somewhat "formal" appearance for me. So I arrived at the conference center and found variations of the following photo appear on agendas and signs and so forth:

I haven't seen me in a tuxedo in a long time! I sure didn't wear a tux at the conference. Heck, I didn't even bother with a suit. Lots of people still wear suits in Germany, I have found.

On Tuesday night, the DOAG board invited me (and all other English speakers) to dinner at a traditional German restaurant (the Golden Posthorne). That was fun, though I definitely ended up eating way more meat than I am used to.

On Wednesday, I did my keynote talk: Guarantee Application Success. I was determined to improve over my last keynote performance for DOAG several years ago. I really didn't think I did a very good job back then. I mostly presented the ideas of someone else (Lawrence Lessig - Code as Law) and I talked way too quickly. A number of people came up afterwards and said "That was a great presentation, Steven, but I could only understand half of what you said." That made me feel really bad.

So this year, the keynote contained all and only my own ideas, which meant I could be a bit more comfortable in my presentation. From what I can tell, it was well accepted. I certainly had a good time doing a talk in a hall that probably held 400-500 people, and offered not only a projection of my Powerpoint on a giant screen, but also threw up an image of me speaking that must have been 50 feet high.

Afterwards, I also sold and signed a bunch of my Oracle PL/SQL Programming, 5th edition. Then a hurried and truncated "Ask Steven" session, then back to the train station, and off to Prague.

So on Wednesday night I took a late flight (10 PM) to Prague and then spent the next two days teaching my Best of PL/SQL class to 25 students. This was my third class in Prague and each time I have been impressed by the quality of the students. Lots of really excellent questions, critiques of my code, new ideas for me to pursue....and I got to enjoy Prague for a little while.

It is a delightful city, especially the sidewalks and especially because I have had the very good fortune to become friends with some current and former employees of Oracle, and they seem to be perfectly to take me out for excellent meals. I had a wonderful dinner with Roman and Lenka at Trattorio Cicala on Thursday (lots of photos on the wall of the owner with big movie starts - Sean Connery, Johnny Depp, Brad Pitt, Vin Diesel - but he didn't ask to take a picture with me. How insulting! Didn't he know who I was? Guess not...), and then on Friday at La Finestra with Petra. Oh and a fine but quick lunch with Roman, Lenka and Martin, who manages the Oracle University team there in Prague. Thanks for organizing the class, Martin!

Then on Saturday morning it was time to go home, or so I thought. I got to the Prague Airport 1.5 hours in advance - and found the entire airport shut down. There had been a fire, apparently. All systems were down, no one could check in for their flight....within an hour, my British Airways flight was cancelled and I was starting to contemplate having to stay an extra night in Prague - or London/Heathrow, but then I got onto a Czech Airlines flight, and was able to catch the third and last American Airlines plane back to Chicago. We are, in fact, starting our descent into my home city right now. [At which I found out that my suitcase was not on the plane; a day later, though, it had been delivered to my house.]

Unfortunately, I go back to an empty house. About 10 days ago, my son, Chris, fell while skateboarding and broke his left leg - badly. Now he has a titanium pin in his left leg and needs lots of help. So my wife, a former nurse, flew down a few days ago to assist.

Well, my house may be empty, but it's still home and I very much look forward to sleeping in my own bed, making my own bowl of old-fashioned oatmeal for breakfast, and so on.

And in six days, I fly back to Europe, to Birmingham, UK for the UKOUG conference!

See some of you there....
SF