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Stealing Motivation

We go a bit overboard on Halloween.

Maybe more than a bit. The yard in the video is mine. As I write this, I’ve got 40 tombstones, more than 200 skulls, and half a dozen life-size props in my yard. The coffin leaning against the tree was bought used on the secondhand coffin market.

I have a motion-activated monster whose eyes light up as his head turns to watch you as you walk past. He just happens to be the exact size in all dimensions as my son was 4 years ago.

A few years ago, I built a beautiful zombie who–not so coincidentally–had the exact height and proportions as my wife.

Last year, a few days before Halloween, somebody came into my yard and stole my bride. They also tried stealing the small coffin, but only managed to get away with the lid, leaving the coffin itself behind.

I hate thieves.

This year, I was at the Financial Bloggers Conference the weekend I traditionally set up for Halloween, so I was getting a late start.

Every time I’ve tried to get out and set up my yard, I just keep thinking about the irreplaceable pieces that were stolen. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a child-sized coffin lid dating back to 1863? Or how impossible it is to get the 100 hours of my life I put into my zombie?

I think about how hurt I would be if somebody stole my son-sized animatronic ghoul or the demon who shares my measurements, but is two feet shorter. I’ve spent hundreds of hours per year, over 10 years building my yard full of one-of-a-kind props, and someone felt it was acceptable to tear down a section of my skull fence, come into my yard, and steal a little piece of my life.

Motivation has been difficult this year.

Last night, while I was out arranging my much-reduced yard haunt, a neighbor came by to let me know that he was disappointed with the smaller production. He wasn’t upset, but he–like the entire neighborhood–love watching the gore grow in my yard while anticipating the evening full of screams as the kids wander through every Halloween.

I can’t do it.

The thieving punks stole not just two of my favorite props, but a huge piece of my desire to scare the neighborhood kids.

Maybe I just need a year off, so I can come back with better ideas and a security plan more detailed than “my neighbors love this, none of them would steal anything!”

I would love to find the thieves. Post-beating, I’d explain how stealing from anyone is stealing a small and irreplaceable part of their lives. Stealing their handcrafted treasure is ripping out a piece of their soul. Stealing their motivation is stealing the memories for every visitor who would ever benefit from their craft, if the motivation is dead enough to kill the production.

I hope I’m not to that point, yet, but I can’t promise anything. Maybe next year.

Hacking a NookColor

Finance

A few months ago, I picked up a NookColor. Being a geek, I immediately hacked it to run an unrestricted version of the Android operating system, allowing me access to the Google App market and, interestingly, the Kindle app. Yes, I run the Kindle app on my Nook. I also run Netflix, Dropbox, Evernote, and any other app I want.

It is, after all, my Nook.

This weekend, I’m visiting my parents, who, coincidentally, also have a new NookColor and want to be done with the slow, restricted version of the operating system that came with it.

Last night, I hacked their Nook. The site I use for the files doesn’t have instructions that work for me. It’s close, but since we’re not talking about horseshoes or hand grenades, close isn’t good enough. “Close” doesn’t get me a working Android tablet out of a $150 book reader.

So, instead of having to remember what I do every time someone asks me to help them root their Nook, I’m posting my system here.

If you want to get the biggest tablet-bang for you buck, here’s now to hack a Nook color into an unrestricted Android tablet, without voiding the warranty.

In addition to the Nook, you’ll need to get a microSD memory card, that’s at least a class 4. The classes are a measure of speed and are identified by a number in a circle on the side of the card. Don’t bother going with less than a 16GB card, and 32GB is better. If you don’t have one already, look for a card that includes and SD card adapter, because it’s easier to find a computer with a reader for those.

You will need to install Win32 Disk Imager, to prepare the memory card correctly. Most guides recommend WinImage, but I’ve never gotten that to work.

First, download the core memory card files. Use WinRar or something similar to extract the image file.

Insert the memory card in your computer. Make sure the computer is reading the card size as close to what the size you are expecting. If it’s not, you may have to reformat the card.

Fire up Win32 Disk Imager. Browse the the extracted image file, select your SD card drive letter and click “Write”. If it pops up any warning messages, confirm them and let it run. Everything it wants to do is a good thing to have happen.

Eject the card, then reinsert it.

Next, download the latest nightly build of the CyanogenMod. The file name will be something similar to cm_encore_full-253.zip. This can be the problem step. The first time I did this, the nightly build was broken. I waited a night and tried again, but that version had a bug with the wifi. You may have to try a couple of different builds to get it to work. After you have the file, copy it, unchanged and unextracted to you memory card.

Now, take the microSD card out of your computer and stick that bad boy in your Nook. There’s a little door on the back bottom corner. Turn the Nook on and wait. It will take a few minutes for everything to set itself up, so be patient. You will see lots of text you probably won’t understand. Watch it and pretend to understand if anyone is paying attention. It’s an instant boost to your geek cred.

When it’s done, it will power off. Turn it on, and go to Settings/Wireless Networks. Set up a wifi connection, then turn the thing off and put the card back in your computer.

Do you have a gmail account? If not, get one. You can’t get into the Google Apps Market without one.

Now we’re going to install the Google Apps Market App. This is what will let you install more apps.

Go here, scroll to the bottom and download the CyanogenMod 7 version of Google Apps. Copy it to your memory card, the pop it out, stick it back in the Nook and fire it up.

When the Nook finishes loading, press and hold the power button until you get the power off menu. Select “reboot”, then “recovery”. This will reboot the Nook, installing the Google Apps file you’ve got on the memory card.

When it’s done, you’ll be walked through a wizard to set up you Apps Market account and a bunch of default settings. After that, you’ll have a complete, unrestricted Android tablet.

The best part is that, since we’re doing all of this on the memory card, it’s not voiding the warranty. If there’s a warranty problem, just pop out the memory card and send it in.

What apps should you get? I start with the Nook app, then get the Kindle app, and the Overdrive app. The Overdrive app is what lets me get books from the library system, and you won’t be able to get the desktop software to read this tablet as a Nook any more.

From there, the sky’s the limit. This is now a full computer. You even have the option of turning on the built-in, but disabled-by-default bluetooth, which will let you use an external keyboard.

Beats a netbook by a mile.

Stand Up For Yourself

Life, Parenting

maths — Image by Sean MacEntee via Flickr

Monday night, my son was struggling to get all of his homework done before bed. He had a 6 page packet of work from his advanced math class that he was supposed to have done over the weekend.

When I asked him why he hadn’t done it, he told me he forgot about it.

I wasn’t happy.

We’ve had a lot of conversations about responsibility and planning over the years. He knows better.

Cue Dad Lecture #26.

Towards the end, when I’m building up this rocking crescendo about how what he does now will affect him for the rest of his life, I stopped.

“Buddy, weren’t you sick on Friday?”

He didn’t get his weekend homework until Monday. Of course he didn’t do it over the weekend.

Dad Lecture #26 immediately transitioned to Ad Hoc Lecture #4, titled “Why did you let me chew you out for something you didn’t do?”

I’ve always tried to raise my kids to be independent. I’ve never stifled asking questions, and I am willing to explain my decisions to them, even if they don’t stand a chance of winning the appeal. As frustrating as independent, strong-willed children can be, I know it will serve them well as adults.

Now I’m trying to figure out why that fell apart on Monday. I wasn’t yelling at him and he doesn’t think I was. Sometimes, the perception of who’s yelling differs depending on which side of my loud voice you are on.

He doesn’t know why he sat back at took the lecture instead of explaining what happened. He apparently forgot that he was given that homework just a few hours before.

My question to all of you is how can I make my kid behave and obey when necessary, but still have enough backbone to stand up for himself when he’s not wrong? And know when each is necessary.

The Obligatory Thanksgiving Post

Finance

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Tomorrow is also Thursday, and I don’t post on Thursdays, so I’ll be posting about Thanksgiving today.

Thanksgiving is a day to be thankful for–first and foremost–capitalism.

When the Pilgrims first landed, they set up a communal farming arrangement, figuring that a good Christian community could take care of its own. From each according to his ability, to each according to his need, and all that. Everyone worked for the good of everyone else, so everyone benefited, right?

The Pilgrims, like every other group that has ever advocated communism, neglected to consider human nature. If you have no incentive to work, you don’t. If sleeping in and making babies still gets you fed and clothed, why work?

On the other side, if you work hard, only to see your hard work go to benefit your lazy neighbor, sleeping in and rattling the headboard, but never doing anything productive, why bother?

It didn’t take long for the Pilgrims to notice this tragedy of government wasn’t working.

The strong, or man of parts, had no more in devission of victails and cloaths, then he that was weake and not able to doe a quarter the other could; this was thought injuestice. The aged and graver men to be ranked and equalised in labours, and victails, cloaths, etc., with the meaner and yonger sorte, thought it some indignite and disrespect unto them. And for mens wives to be commanded to doe servise for other men, as dresing their meate, washing their cloaths, etc., they deemd it a kind of slaverie, neither could many husbands well brooke it. Upon the poynte all being to have alike, and all to doe alike, they thought them selves in the like condition, and ove as good as another; and so, if it did not cut of those relations that God hath set amongest men, yet it did at least much diminish and take of the mutuall respects that should be preserved amongst them.

It didn’t take long before nobody was working. Neighbors resented each other, because everyone had a right to the work of the other, with no need to compensate each other. That’s a case of “I’m starving because you aren’t working hard enough, but it’s not my fault you’re starving.”

At one point, the production of the colony was down so much that the colonists’ ration of corn was just 4 kernels per day. That’s how you kill a colony.

But they learned from their mistakes before they all died.

Yet notwithstanding all those reasons, which were not mine, but other mens wiser then my selfe, without answer to any one of them, here cometh over many quirimonies, and complaints against me, of lording it over my brethern, and making conditions fitter for theeves and bondslaves then honest men, and that of my owne head I did what I list. And at last a paper of reasons, framed against that clause in the conditions, which as they were delivered me open, so my answer is open to you all. And first, as they are no other but inconvenientes, such as a man might frame 20. as great on the other side, and yet prove nor disprove nothing by them, so they misse and mistake both the very ground of the article and nature of the project. For, first, it is said, that if ther had been no divission of houses and Lands, it had been better for the poore. True, and that showeth the inequalitie of the condition; we should more respecte him that ventureth both his money and his person, then him that ventureth but his person only.

The slavery of working for the benefit of others didn’t work, unless you were “theeves and bondslaves”. Then, it was great, living off of the sweat of others.

To make a long story short, the starvation ended when the Pilgrims were given parcels of land and told they could keep what they built from it. They went from the edge of extinction to being prosperous in a short time. The old and weak were cared for, not by the governor’s decree, but by the generosity of their neighbors.

Everybody in the colony won.

Little Monster Late Fees

Parenting

Last week, I paid a late fee to daycare. I neverpay daycare late.

little monsters — Image by sekundo via Flickr

Except last week.

As I’ve said before, I work 80 hours a week.

For the last couple of weeks, my three year old has decided that she needs to sleep in every morning. No getting up at 6:30 for her. No way. That little prima donna wants to lounge in bed until 8, then watch a movie while eating breakfast in bed. She’s never gotten that treatment, so I don’t know why it’s become her goal.

Last week, she decided to throw a tantrum when I woke her up.

Followed by a tantrum when I reminded her she doesn’t get to wear diapers during the day.

Followed by a tantrum when I dared to pick out clothes that didn’t have horses, or didn’t look right, or weren’t sweats, or weren’t picked out by Mom, or this, or that or….

I’ve been the one to get her ready almost every morning for 3 years and she has never been catered to that way.

Me: overtired, with 1000 things on my mind.

Her: diva training, trying to wake up.

Her sister: teasing, asking questions, and generally doing her best to stand under my feet.

Her brother: gets himself ready, but tries to avoid combing his hair before school, and can’t be relied on to put on clean clothes.

Me: overtired. Juggling getting three kids and myself ready to leave. 1000 things on my mind.

Daycare: What check?

She finally got paid on Thursday. Over the 12 years we’ve had kids there, we’ve paid late maybe 5 times. I hate late fees.

What’s the fix?

Checklists don’t work for me, when I’m rushing around. I tend to ignore them while I’m herding children.

Selling the monsters to the gypsies is out. They are far too difficult to succeed working in the salt mines.

We need to start picking out clothes the night before, to short-circuit most of the tantrum. We also need to enforce bedtimes better, but that’s hard to do Sunday night if they are allowed to nap too long on Sunday afternoon, which happens when I nap with my kids on Sunday afternoon.

Maybe the best solution is to switch schedules with my wife. I’ll go in to work between 6 and 7. She can herd monsters while trying to get ready for work.

Crying is for Winners

Finance

Have you ever seen a kid come off a wrestling mat, crying his eyes out because he lost?

Wrestling Sideways - Really (Photo credit: Creativity+ Timothy K Hamilton)

Often, that kid will get told to be tough and stop crying.

That’s wrong.

I’m not opposed to teaching kids not to cry under most circumstances, but just after an intense competition, I love it. It’s the best possible sign that the kids was pouring his soul into winning. It means he was trying with everything he had.

It means he is–or will be–a winner.

When a kid, particularly a boy in a tough sport, is crying, you know he’s going to try harder and do better next time.

For all of the “tough guy” ability it takes to succeed as a wrestler, I’ve never seen another wrestler teasing the crier. They’ve all been there. Wrestling is a team sport, but you win or lose a match on your own. When you step out in front of hundreds of people and spend 3 to 6 minutes giving every ounce of everything you have to give, only to find it’s not good enough, you’ll often find you don’t have the final reserve necessary to control your emotions.

This is different than a kid crying because he lost a game, just because he lost. Some kids feel entitled to win anything they do, regardless of the effort they put it. That’s also wrong.

Crying at a loss is okay after putting in maximum effort and full energy, not because the dice went the wrong way.

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