Personal

I started this blog a year ago for a variety of little reasons, but mostly I started it to write. It was to be my outlet in a way that only yelling from the roof of a building at the top of your lungs could be. I get thoughts on my brain and I need to let them out, much in the same way that we all get cravings for a particular food and you just have got to have it.

Just like how other foods do not taste as good until that craving has been satisfied, writing about other topics while something is swirling in the back of my mind doesn’t hit the spot. Only with a food craving we have to eat. We get hungry and, whether or not we can get that Lobster Bisque, we know we have to eat and so we do. Well, I don’t have to write. There are no paid banners or advertisements that I have to think about keeping a readership coming back to the website for. There is only the time it takes me to put up an entry and the costs to maintain a web-space. Nothing to force me to write; except the outlet of thoughts and ideas. And that is what iamwhen is here for.

The problem is that this whole Internet fad (Trust me; it won’t last more than a year or two. Really.) is open to the world. Everyone from everywhere can read what I write tonight or tomorrow or even what I wrote a year ago. That has been a problem for me because HR personnel and hiring managers have passed over people due to what they find with a simple Google search during the hiring process. The things they have found aren’t "tear down the government, communism forever" or even "I like having sex on my desk at the office" kind of stuff, but rather a photo of the applicant in a bikini on their myspace page. Stupid things like that.

If a simple photo taken at the beach can mean the difference between "You’re hired" and "Don’t call us (and we won’t call you)", what would my view that Creationism should not be taught in schools do for my chances at employment (especially working in the South)? What about all my other views on things that some might find even more controversial?

So when Georgia invaded the breakaway nation of South Ossetia and we (the United States and most of the world) condemned Russia for kicking their ass back across the border straight to the Georgian capital city (similar to what the U.S.A and U.N. did to Iraq when Iraq invaded the nation of Kuwait), I bit my tongue. When the Presidential race was underway and politics were on everyone mind, I bit my tongue. On and on I bit my tongue, until finally I became mute.

I couldn’t get any words to come out except those things I worried about voicing, because somewhere, someone in HR or some manager will ignore 20 years of industry experience, world class training and certifications, miles of recommendations, and a mind accepted into MENSA; and instead decide that I should not get the job or the promotion or the raise because they disagree with my opinion. And that was the problem. Because we live in a world where that does happen.

Well, screw them. If someone is that much of a moron to see that their opinion is wrong (because it disagrees with mine) and thinks that a difference of opinions or a spoken point of view matters more than ability and experience, well then they are someone I do not want to work with, for, or around. That is my stance and we'll see if it works better than the previous "silence is golden" one.

A little crazy glue and my tongue has been reattached (I might need some duct tape until the glue dries); and I will once again be posting my mind. Regardless of what topic is on my mind. And hopefully voicing those thoughts that swirl around in the back of my head will once again allow me to write about topics that I feel passionate about (robotics) instead of opinionated on (Palin? Really? I mean, REALLY?).

I had made up my mind a long time ago that if I were to ever pursue an advanced degree in technology my first choice would be Carnegie Mellon University. Of course I have alternate choices and would choose a different school if I was looking at something like an MBA, but for technology CMU is the Holy Grail for me.

I am currently in the application process to attend the H. John Heinz III College at Carnegie Mellon University in the Master of Science in Information Technology (MSIT) program. Invariably when I talk to people about pursuing my Master Degree they ask about my school choices, which is immediately followed by the question "Why there?" My response has always been "Because it’s Carnegie Mellon," and usually includes what I am certain is a dumb-founded look on my face.

I believe it is the dumb-founded look that stops people from asking further along that line of questioning, so they ask about my second choice for schools, which is the Harvard University Extension School. Now it is my turn to receive a dumb-founded look.

Yes, Harvard University is my second choice, but I have continuously had a difficult time expressing the reason CMU is my number one school. For those people who are familiar with CMU's Computer Science program it generally makes sense without explanation, but what I have taken for granted as something "Universally Known" appears to be pretty unknown to most people. It is the universally known aspect that has really been the reason I haven't verbalized concretely why CMU is my school of choice. With today being the eve of my first visit to Carnegie Mellon for their fall open house it seems like the appropriate time to put into words what I know deep down inside.

The name and reputation of CMU in most of the Information Technology industry is generally reason enough to attend the school, but there is far more to it than that for me. Obviously with the name and reputation comes a given level of quality of the professors and the curriculum. Perhaps not a complete "given" for such an assumption, but in this case it is definitely true. Still, that alone is not enough of a reason for me.

Enter the quality of the students. This is a big reason for my wishing to attend. CMU accepts the best and the brightest, and rejects students that could find a home on almost any other campus without problem. In an academic lifetime where I have found very little challenge, this caliber of student raises the bar; thus requiring more challenging courses, which in turn raises the bar higher.

That is what I want. A bar set so high, brought about because of the incredibly high quality of students who continuously strive to hurdle that bar and set a new standard. That challenge. That level of knowledge and interaction. A school full of students and professors who will accept nothing less than the very best from everyone around them, because anything less than a persons best will leave them looking on from a distance as the class races ahead. That is why I want to attend Carnegie Mellon University.

Today I will be taking the Graduate Record Examination (GRE) General Test. For the first time in quite a long while I am a little nervous about taking a test. For those who do not know, the examination is one of two primary tests used as part of admissions into a graduate level program (the other test being the GMAT). Basically, the test is similar to what I remember the SATs to be like: mathematics and vocabulary (although I understand the SATs have been changed since I took them 20 years ago). There are also two essay portions on the GRE.

Much like the SAT, if you had a year to study you could probably improve your score to some extent. Lacking that year’s preparation, I have opted for very little studying as I either know the content or I do not. I have done a little refreshing on the mathematics portion, but mostly I see my preparation work as getting into the correct mindset to take the exam, as opposed to learning new things.

In the quantitative section (i.e. mathematics) I should do fairly well provided I avoid simple mistakes such as multiplying two numbers incorrectly. On the verbal section (i.e. vocabulary) I can only do so much. When it comes to the vocabulary section there are three levels of progression based on the type of person you are: 1) those who do not read books, 2) those who read books, and 3) those who know Latin. I do not know Latin.

While I am in the process of gearing up for acceptance into one of the most esteemed graduate schools within the technology field, Carnegie Mellon University; my daughter is looking at undergraduate programs in her chosen field. This coming Saturday we will be taking a field trip to North Miami to take a look at one of those schools, Johnson and Wales. And while I am nervous about applying to CMU, I am far more anxious and concerned about my daughter getting into the right school.

The worst part is that I have even less control over her future schooling than I do my own, and beyond that, her life as a whole. I only hope that the education I have given her throughout her young life has been enough to provide the guide and motivation she will need. I suppose in the end, whether it is formal or life-based, it all comes down to education. And on many levels, that is a reassuring thought.

I have never been one to celebrate holidays, whether it is Christmas, or Valentine's Day, or Easter, or Birthdays (including my own); to me, these days of the year are just that, another day of the year. I have been this way from an early age, just prior to hitting my teen years. There was no tragedy, religious experience or dramatic event that turned me off to these "special days", but rather a conscious decision on my own part.

The only holiday I have always enjoyed is Thanksgiving, as it is one of the few excuses my family has had to travel across the country, or down the road, and spend time with one another. And it is one of the few that has not, as of yet (knock on wood), been completely bastardized into a Hallmark buying frenzy. Even in that, I do not see myself as celebrating the Thanksgiving holiday, but rather enjoying the reunion with family and friends. A distinction perhaps only to myself.

For me the holidays are generally a charade. A day or two a year that people celebrate the birth of a friend, the love for another, the joy of their religious beliefs, or any of a number of other things. I, we, should not have to be told to purchase a gift for a friend or a loved one simply because of the calendar date. We should not have to be reminded to remember our deity. For if these things only occur because they are marked upon a calendar, do they really matter?

To me, everyday should be a celebration of those things. Being a Christian (Pastafarian really), I try to enjoy the Christmas spirit year round, much to the annoyance of those who know me. Between January and November of each year, you will be hard pressed to find a day that I am not singing Christmas songs aloud and at random. Come December, in proper spirit, I switch to Easter songs. If I see a gift that someone I care about might like and I can afford, I buy it and give it as a gift. Now. Not when their birthday or another holiday rolls around. Perhaps I am just odd. Alright, I am just odd, but in this case I don't see my behavior as strange, only as doing what I see as right.

The major exception to all my bah-humbugness is my daughter. With her, and for her, I celebrate all of the holidays. Each and every year she is my valentine. On Christmas I try to provide a few gifts for her to unwrap and enjoy. The same for each holiday she has chosen to celebrate, but I still never lose sight of the everyday. Each day she has been and will be in my life is the most precious gift of all. And I cherish all of these days.

We might not get to spend the time together that we would if she lived with me, and we might not do all the things that others would expect of a weekend parent, but we do get the most out of our time; even if it is time spent apart from each other. She is my daughter and being a part of her life is the most important and wonderful thing I will ever do in my own life.

Despite the ups and downs, the gray hairs she has given me, and the many nights of worry; I have always been proud of the girl she has been and the woman she is growing up to be. And so I truly hope she enjoys this 17th birthday and 18th year of her life as much as I will continue to cherish each day that I have been blessed with her as a daughter.

Happy Birthday Phaide. You might be getting older, but you will always be my little girl.

All things in moderation. A pretty good slogan to live by; the only problem, determining what the correct level that qualifies as "moderate" is. Extremists tend to hate moderation, whether it is the political arena, sports fanaticism, consumption, or anything else. For example, people opposed to alcohol consumption generally refuse to acknowledge that a person who consumes one (and only one) alcoholic beverage per day lives a longer, healthier life. It is a stress reliever; and I am sorry to all the health nuts, physicians and medical journals who are trying to sell you something with their skewed statistics, but stress is the number one contributing factor of illness in the world, and the second leading cause of death (dying being number one, topping the charts at 100% of all deaths).

Skewed stats aside, I tend to do pretty well with moderation. I understand that the moderate quantity of hemlock is zero ("It's all natural, so you know its good for you." yea, right), while quantities of breathable air should be pretty high (too high is hyperventilating, which again becomes bad). The one thing I have a problem with is cigarette smoking. My name is Andrew Maxim and I am addicted to cigarettes, and yes I see the irony of following "breathable air" with "cigarettes".

Like most smokers, I really can not pin down the reason I first started smoking. Peer pressure, being young and stupid, the quick buzz that you get (up until the point that you are hooked). Who knows? I even retired from smoking a couple years back (retired as opposed to quitting, because no one likes a quitter), and could not tell you why I started back up a year later. What I can tell you is what I missed while I was in retirement.

There was a newspaper article I had read online some years back that discussed the social group of smokers, and the writer was dead on. I searched the Internet for the original article to share it, but unfortunately did not have any luck. So I will have to paraphrase. Basically, the article discussed how the group, collectively known as "smokers", was one of the only social groups worldwide that transcended all other biases, stereotypes, genders, races, religions, political affiliations, et al. It is one of the only groups you can walk up into, without knowing a single person, and have the feeling that you belong.

On my recent trip overseas, I spent four hours in the Miami airport smoking area chatting it up with two people I had nothing in common with besides smoking. Try that with another social group. It is also one of the most generous of social groups, in relations to the commonality that brings them together. Walk up to 10 people in a bar and ask them to give you a drink, unless they are attracted to you and hoping to score, you are not getting that drink. Walk up to a smoker and "bum a smoke", and you just made a friend.

That is what I missed when I had retired last time, and is what I will miss when I retire (quitters never win, and winners never quit) this time around. It is something I know I need to do, and something I know I am able to accomplish. Whoa onto the people around me for the first four days or so as I bring my cigarette smoking down to the moderate level of none, but it is time. Wish me (and those around me) luck.

It’s Valentine's Day, so I figured I would talk a little about my honey. It actually is probably more of a rant to be totally honest. You see, my girlfriend, Catherine, and I were recently on a trip overseas and one of our stops was in New Zealand. While we were there we had been told that we have to try, and likely purchase, Manuka Honey.

Now, I hate honey. Always have. I suppose I am one of the few people in the world that does, at least I have met no other people with such distaste for the sugary "treat". Oddly enough, I do really enjoy Mead, which, if you are not aware, is made from fermented honey. I also have a sweet spot for Baklava, along with a few other honey baked goods and candies. Very odd I know, but I have never been known for being normal. The point is I really do not like honey itself, so I was a bit dubious over trying this Manuka Honey. But what is the point of visiting foreign lands if you are not going to try new things, right?

Well, let me just tell you, I loved the stuff. Its color is much darker than typical US honey, with a thick rich flow and what can only be described as an almost graininess. It was fabulous. So we bought three very expensive jars of this wonderful, tantalizing oasis of oral refreshment.

One jar was opened and enjoyed throughout the trip, and was promptly confiscated by customs during out international flight. Knowing my friend Liz's love for honey, I insisted we give one jar to her as a gift from our travels. Leaving one jar for the homestead. Not really much for two people who just dig in with a spoon whenever they pass by it sitting idly upon the counter.

Not wishing to ever be without this new found treat, Catherine managed to find the same name brand Manuka Honey on the web and ordered three more jars of this delicacy, paying a hefty premium for international shipping and such. Only it is not the same. It is Manuka Honey, it is produced by the same company, but it has that horrible flavor that has made me despise honey all these years. I even compared a spoonful to the remaining jar we had brought back with us. There is no difference between the look and texture of the two separate jars of honey, but the flavor, and particularly the after taste definitely tells a different story.

That really is it for me with honey, trying that taste test between the two; it is the after taste of US honey that bothers my palate so. And here is this gem of a honey that I grew fond of so quickly, which contains that same after taste. Tonight I found out why. On the very edge of the label is a small block of words explaining everything so clearly as if there never should have been a question in my mind. "US FANCY GRADE".

So why is it that we must ruin something as simple as honey from a foreign land? Is it that our US honey is so inferior in taste and quality? Or does the FDA require some hidden ingredient in all honey bought or sold within the US borders? There is only "Honey" listed for ingredients after all. Or perhaps there is some sort of pasteurizing process that taints the pure taste of honey? I doubt I will ever know the reasons, but for me my honey will always be untouched New Zealand Manuka Honey.

And you thought I was going to talk about something romantic, didn't you?

For those unaware, besides being my last name, the name of a magazine, an integrated circuit manufacturer, and countless other companies; a Maxim is a universal truth. A proverb. As you might have guessed, that is where the name of my company came from, Proverbs, LLC. Pretty clever, huh?

It is also the name of a specific proverb coined by my friend Liz. Simply put, the Maxim Maxim states that "For any item that a person is in need of, having specific requirements, and which should be readily available off the shelf, will, in fact, have to be custom ordered and/or manufactured." It is the proverb that I have been cursed with most of my life.

We recognized the Maxim Maxim while shopping for my first high definition television some four years ago. I had done all my research on brands and models, determined the perfect viewing angle from the ideal reclined position upon my couch, and performed all the measurements for distances from the wall, viewer and floor. I found the perfect television, right down to the model number. Research completed, time to purchase.

Only no one carried it in stores, and we went to them all. One store had the same model in a larger screen size, which they offered to sell at the same price. Good deal, right? Except being a larger television would require the screen to sit further from the wall (bigger means a deeper box) and thus closer to the viewer ruining the optimum viewing experience. Much like sitting in the front rows of a movie theatre.

The worst part of the shopping experience, aside from having to go shopping, is that none of these stores could even order the model I wanted for some reason. Or maybe it was just too much hassle for them. I wound up having to special order the television online and pay the extra premium shipping charges. Thus the Maxim Maxim was born.

It wasn't until after that ordeal that I noticed it was something I had always been afflicted with. Some friends (*cough* Heather *cough*) say I am being too picky, but I don't believe wanting shoes and clothes that fit classifies as "picky". Yes, the Maxim Maxim really does hold true for those things as well; from purchasing shoes (I am a men’s 10 extra wide, and no one use to carry that size), to buying clothes (30/32 waist, 32 length pants are impossible to find in American stores, not enough girth apparently), to furniture (the stand for above mentioned television was a two week ordeal), to computers, to parts for robots; and the list goes on and on.

At this point when I mention to friends needing an item for something, I will generally produce a tale of the heroic ordeals that I will likely have to go through in order to find said items. "I'll be out of the country for a few months as I travel to the darkest reaches in the Amazon Rainforest in search of the sap of a rare and endangered dwarf tree to mix with the volcanic ash from a long dormant volcano buried under miles of ice on Antarctica and cured with the methane rich waters from the under ocean lakes found only in the Gulf of Mexico. It must all be mixed within the perfect vacuum of space and set to dry under the warmth of a star going super nova. Unless you happen to have an extra bendy straw for my orange juice."

And that is the Maxim Maxim.

Eventually I will put together a biography static page containing a reader’s digest version of the wonder that is Andrew Maxim. I will also likely include a copy of my professional resume, just to tout myself a little further. Arrogance really is a wonderful thing. In the mean time I thought I should throw out a little further information on the "where I am at" and "where I am going" aspects.

In January of 2005, after much procrastination, I finally decided to pursue a Bachelor of Science degree. Given the levels of experience I had already gained in the workforce I was, as previously mentioned, over qualified for many positions, but lacking a four year degree was under qualified for the remainder. I was never very good at pickle as a child, and figured it was time to rectify the issue. After my typical research frenzy, I enrolled into the Computer Science program at Excelsior College in March of 2005.

Pursuit of my degree can be described as sporadic, with long periods of inactivity followed by completion of far too many credits in the following few months. Mostly this is just me taking advantage of what free time I have, but I also enjoy a break between educational overload sessions. After two years of this I was nearing completion of my degree, three classes remaining.

Unfortunately, (didn't I already mention there was always an unfortunately?) Excelsior College was removing their Computer Science program and rolling it into a different degree. Those who were in the Bachelor CS program were given until November to have all credits submitted for a December graduation or we would be rolled into the Computer Technology major, with differing requirements. Given the course availability this was an impossibility for me (as I am sure others) to complete, as the courses I required ended in December, after the cut off.

I took this as an opportunity to change majors to something more suiting to my career and instead switched to the Management Information Systems degree program. A few additional business classes are required, but I believe the extra work will be rewarded in the long run. I hold a 3.75 GPA, with a 4.0 in my major, and currently am sitting at 131 credit hours completed while I wait for additional transcripts to arrive. I then have two classes to complete and expect to be part of the June 2008 graduation. Not quite the three years I was hoping for, but it is under the four years one normally takes.

Aside from working and college, my professional life also consists of maintaining current certifications, as well as certifying in new technologies. Most of the time spent in this category belongs to my beloved ISACA Certified Information Security Manager (CISM), which, unlike my Cisco certifications, I intend to maintain. And that is Andrew Maxim, the technology professional, in a nutshell.