A quick search for “1979″ turns up nearly 150,000 snapshots from the year I was brought into this world by the best parents any son could ask for. Thanks Mom and Dad. And happy birthday to me.

It’s not surprising because I never really understood Twitter from the beginning. I never learned what “RT” meant, why a “#” was prepended to certain words, and why Direct Messages only showed up in my email. For the 195 Tweets I posted, I can only think of a few instances when I had something to say in less than Twitter’s max 140 character limit. I followed acquaintances on Twitter — people I knew but don’t know — as well as real-life friends. I can’t knock it (I don’t think) because Twitter has millions of users who seem to Tweet all day and all night. But something’s wrong. Twitter’s two founders can’t figure out how they’re going to make money off their invention. Pogue can’t figure it out. And there are rules and snobs. It’s just too much.

In the end, I’m with Pogue: it’s just another time drain.

Dear Mark Healey,

Thank you for using GEICO’s online services and thank you for your feedback.

State insurance regulations sometimes prohibit the online transmission of certain policy documents.  However, we reviewed your policy and found you received this email in error.  We are working to correct the problem and we certainly apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused you.

I’m not sure who’s to blame: state insurance regulators for being so dumb, or Geico for not standing up against such ridiculous laws.

My yearbook photos from '54 through '94.

Make your own at Yearbook Yourself. (via Kottke)

I’m still running WordPress — which is even better than ever now in version 2.6 — and have applied WP Super Cache for public-facing pages, plus Google Gears for local “turbo” mode. Overall, the pages are on this new site are startling fast. The Flickr photos in my footer are cached smartly, too, thanks to FlickrRSS.

The biggest switch of all is the move to a new domain: markhealey.org. I own the .com and the .net variations, but the .org suffix is most perfectly suited to this new site. It was fairly easy setting up .htaccess files to handle the heavy lifting for the many hundred of permanent redirects needed to get from markhealey.net to markhealey.org. One side affect of this switch, is that your RSS reader might show a few dozen “new” posts — sorry ’bout that. There shouldn’t be a single hiccup but be sure to let me know if you experience any issues. 

Drop me a line and let me know what you think of the new digs. The old site now lives at v4.markhealey.net.

I was anxiously awaiting the release of WordPress 2.5 and after taking less than 10 minutes to upgrade, the collective fraternity of coders and designers at Automattic and Happy Cog didn’t disappoint. After a momentary refresher course of what my plugin installation looked like, I added a few more from Mike D’s list and I’m off and running.

Look for more soon.

After watching my server logs courtesy of Mint, I’ve noticed this post as been receiving a lot of traffic from folks searching for Mark Healey, the professional surfer. Believe me, I (partly) wish it was me who’d my spent my youth on Oahu’s North Shore and was now recognized as one of the world’s best big wave (or tsunami) surfers — needless to say I’ve had a much different calling.

For those looking for the most righteous of all wave riders, try this on for size: I don’t believe my evil twin has a website of his own, but you can ask Google — unless, of course, you want to work with me on a website project. Wink.

The original post “Leading A Double Life” follows.

Originally posted Saturday, September 30, 2006 around 3 pm eastern

I just think this is too funny. I’ve always wanted to learn how to surf, I guess the other Mark Healey — the professional surfer — beat me to it. Actually, it appears he’s more than comfortable on a board and is recognized as one of the world’s best.

The other Mark Healey riding a big-ass wave.

Complete coverage: News, photos, videos, results.

© The Post and Courier 3/31/07

NYT: In Washington, Contractors Take on Biggest Role Ever
(First article in series)

So without further ado, here’s the new listing:

http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=230087052241

If you need a great machine, or know someone who does, grab this while it’s available. It’s a beaut.

I’m hopeful for a nice winning bidder; this laptop has been good to me, and will make someone else very happy. As for my new MacBook Pro? Unbelievable.

http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=230080304599

Without any further ado, here you have it:

• Hiking in Santee Coastal Reserve
  October
• Burlington, Vermont
  Late October
• San Diego, California
  November
• San Francisco & Napa Valley, California
  November

All the fun permanently recreated in the whopping heap of photos at JudeAndMark.com.

Next time I’m in the Sierra Nevadas, I’ll be steering clear of Stanislaus National Forest and The Lair of the Golden Bear, the California Alumni Association’s summer family camp. Jason Snell, the author of the article, sums this hideousness up in two sentences.

“If I had to estimate, I’d say that there was at least one iPod in every single tent cabin at the Lair. As I walked through camp, I was never out of hearing distance of someone’s iPod.”Jason Snell

Can you imagine any place worse? The sounds of “I’m not quite sure what” replacing — and scaring off — every sound nature has to offer. I was pissed eight years ago at the top of Dragon’s Tooth, a big rock atop a 3000′ stop on the AT near where I went to school, when someone snuck up behind me with a ringing cell phone. That was before iPods, but not before cell phones. Damn the ever-reaching scope of cell coverage.

If I can pass on one tiny shred of advice for any peace-and-quiet seeker: go to Africa and hunt for a remote bush camp.

Andrea sent me her photos, I’m passing them along. We’ll have some to contribute when they are ready, too, at judeandmark.com.

Google News was my browser’s start page until I just replaced it with this baby—a visual display of everything coming through the Google News aggregator. Bigger isn’t necessarily better, but in the newsmap’s case, it sure is.

“Bags only!”

So here’s what happened. After a day of walking around The Mall showing my wife all of our capital city’s monuments and memorials (she is Zimbabwean-born and had never been to D.C.), we decided to head over to the Air & Space Museum before meeting some friends at Hotel Washington’s roof deck for drinks. If you have never been to this particular branch of the Smithsonian, you’ve got to check it out. The building itself is gargantuan. It doesn’t quite match the size of the VAB at Cape Canaveral, but for all it contains it is impressive. There are hundreds of original and replica exhibits to see, including the Wright 1903 Flyer; the Spirit of St. Louis; the Apollo 11 command module Columbia; and Neil Armstrong’s space suit he wore on the Moon in ’69. If that doesn’t impress, the number of airplanes hanging from the ceiling are both a tribute to the golden age of flight and a strain on the neck.

As my wife and I walked into the Museum, we were greeted by a fairly large, middle-aged female security guard standing adjacent to an X-RAY machine, conveyor belt, and stack of plastic trays similar to those you’d find at your local airport’s TSA checkpoint.

She said in plain English without a smile, “bags only.”

With out a sign, panel, label, indicator or notice of any kind in sight, I simply stared back at her wondering what on Earth she meant. Was I not allowed to take the umbrella I was holding in my hand into the museum? What about our D70 and heap of peripherals? And the ½-liter Nalgene full of water, and Mars bar we had saved to hold off starvation?

I calmly asked, “I’m sorry, what does that mean?”

I should’ve known this was coming. She replied with the grace of a dump truck driving through a nitroglycerin plant.

“Bags only.”

Of course. Again, with a little less calmness in my voice, I asked, “Bags only. What does that mean, exactly?” I bet you can’t guess how she replied? “Bags only.�? This continued for what seemed like 5 minutes. At this point, there’s smoke coming out of my ears. The handful of other rent-a-cops on the other side of the checkpoint are rolling their eyes and snickering. I think I heard one of them say under his breath, “Oh God, here we go.�? There is a queue of visitors piling up behind me. My wife is turning red. The guard is trying to hurry my apparently extreme ineptitude by now screaming “bags only!�? Why can’t this woman simply tell me what she wants me to do? Finally, as the entire museum is staring at me slowly navigating this checkpoint, she holds out the plastic tray and says at the top of her lungs, “bags only!�? At last! Yes, I realize that she wants me to put only my bag in the tray. She is, of course, repeatedly yelling “bags only!�? as I proceed through the X-RAY gate. Even twenty five steps after clearing the checkpoint, she is still yelling. At the information desk about 100 feet from the checkpoint, still yelling. I cannot believe my ears. I am imagining my wife and I in some basement room at the Museum being interrogated by the FBI, unable to escape the frantic questioning of an under-trained field agent the day after 23 extremists were arrested in connection with a terror plot in London. Instead of turning back and giving her a taste of her own medicine, I just kept walking, head down, saying over and over to myself “serenity now, serenity now, serenity now.�? Two and half hours later, we made it out alive.

But here I am, four days later, and clearly insane. Just as Lloyd said. Having just read ALA #221, I can’t help but think about the similarities between navigating a website and navigating a security checkpoint. Where am I? Where can I go? And, most importantly, how can I get there? If the security team had thought to put a sign reading “Please place your bags on the belt�?, all of this would have been avoided. How does someone with a hearing problem get past the guard I encountered to see a great museum? I guess they don’t care much about accessibility. Or first impressions. It will be a while before I go back to that museum, and I’m sure I’ll recover some day, just not today.

If you’re a Boston sports fan, you’ve gotta take 10 minutes and read this. Edge: Bill Simmons.

Kudos, WordPress team.

New York. 1883. The Brooklyn Bridge opened and immediately hailed as The Eighth Wonder of the World.

So, what makes something wonderful? Is it in the eye of the beholder, or the creator, or is it just so? The ice cream cone was invented on this day in 1904. To me, that’s pretty wonderful. My wife’s laughing at me. “C’mon though, that’s just an ice cream cone”, she says. I’m fairly sure that had Charles E. Menches never thought of it, someone would have. But what for the things in this world that everyone sees as wonderful?

Wikipedia has a great write-up on The Seven Wonders of the World. The ancient, modern, technological, underwater, and natural wonders are all covered. Of the items that made the lists, which have you seen? And do you think they’re worthy? Cast your vote to weigh in.

My wife and I have been very lucky to have been able to visit some of the places on the handful of Seven Wonders lists, and I gotta tell you, they’re really something. We’ve stood alongside the edge of the Zambezi River as its waters roared over Victoria Falls (and even chanced our lives rafting the most dangerous rapids in the world). Not a rain cloud in sight, but a slicker very much required. We’ve raced through the English Channel Chunnel on the Eurostar a few times—London, Paris; Paris, London. I’ve climbed to the top of the Empire State Building for a great view of the second greatest city in the world (sorry NYers, I was born in Boston). We’ll cross the Golden Gate Bridge this year November, and aim to knock a few more off the list before we call it quits.

But I can’t help think of the places we’ve traveled to which aren’t on any wonders lists, and maybe should be. I’ve stood inside the Sistine Chapel and stared at the ceiling so long my neck hurt. I’ve hopped out on a few rocks at the southern-most tip of the African continent soaking my feet in the water where the Indian meets the Atlantic. I’ve seen a bull fight in Madrid, drank warm whisky in freezing Scotland, covered my eyes in Amsterdam’s Red Light District, spent a day at Ikea in Quebec, walked The Louvre end-to-end, drove across the highest paved road in Colorado’s Rockies, and seen the world’s largest clock face in Zurich. I’m very fortunate to say the list goes on. But of these few, I certainly consider them wonders in their own right. And my list is growing longer everyday. Should some of these be “wonders”? Maybe just for the two of us. Maybe for others as well. I was thrilled to see the New 7 Wonders organization holding an open vote on the topic. Now our wonders have the chance to become wonders for others.

I wonder if Washington Roebling thought his Brooklyn Bridge—”the 8th wonder of the world”—would be outdone by this long list of other bridges? Because they’re pretty wonderful—especially the Millau Viaduct in France.

This is the 204th day of 2006, and there are 161 days left in the year. What else happened today?

So, take a few minutes and poke around. You’ll find articles written often daily, photography, details about my freelance work, and a list of some pretty amazing things. I hope you enjoy your stay, come back often, and feel free to comment on any articles.

How true.

Lance is very clear about his cause and his goal. He wants a billion dollars for the fight against cancer and he won’t stop until he gets it.

Others are involved, too. Dr. Andrew von Eschenbach of the National Cancer Institute set a goal of “eliminating cancer as a cause of suffering and death by 2015.”

You should take a few moments to read the article, it’s a pretty damned good one.