New Blog

My new political blog is up at: www.legaltolerance.com

iToldYaSo

I'd like to apologize in advance to the dead horse, but I found this too interesting to pass up. Yesterday, May 1, was my 6-month anniversary of working on a Mac. It was ALSO the day that this article came out about Mac exposure to viruses. The funny part (and the final part of the trifecta) is that yesterday was also the day that Apple launched their new ad campaign about how safe they are. Yes, there are still fewer Mac OS viruses than there are for Windows, but what a terrible day to get added to the SANS list.

By the way, I've built a new system, called JeffroSoft. It is 100% virus free. I'd make it available for download, but then it would gain popularity among those who consider themselves elite and then those who want to be elite would create viruses to attack JeffroSoft. Despite my efforts, and advertising, they would eventually create successful viruses and expose Jeffrosoft users to a variety of problems. So, I'm keeping my 100% virus free operating system to myself.

This is the most amazing story ever!

Yes, it is from Fox News. No, that's not why it is amazing. That's called coincidence.

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Kyle MacDonald had a red paper clip and a dream: Could he use the community power of the Internet to barter that paper clip for something better, and trade that thing for something else — and so on and so on until he had a house?

After a cross-continental trading trek involving a fish-shaped pen, a town named Yahk and the Web's astonishing ability to bestow celebrity, MacDonald is getting close. He's up to one year's free rent on a house in Phoenix.

Not a bad return on an investment of one red paper clip. Yet MacDonald, 26, vows to keep going until he crosses the threshold of his very own home, wherever that might be.

"It's totally overwhelming, I'm not going to lie," he said by phone from Montreal, where he and his girlfriend, Dominique Dupuis, live with two roommates. "But I'm still trading for that house. It's this obsessive thing."

The story begins last July.

MacDonald had spent years backpacking, delivering pizzas and working other part-time jobs, suiting his jack-of-all-trades, restless nature. He paid his $300 share of the rent by occasionally promoting products at trade shows.

But he yearned for one piece of settled-down adulthood: a house, which he knew he could not afford.

It's clear, however, that MacDonald has a knack for promotion. Asked what he had talked up at all those trade shows, MacDonald slipped right into his spiel for the employer, TableShox.com. "You ever sat at a wobbly table at a restaurant?" he said.

Beyond a gift for advertising table stabilizers, he's a geography buff, keeps a blog and writes short stories. Random interactions with strangers and the rich kitsch of North Americana provide his favorite material.

Put it all together, and you have the outline of MacDonald's quest.

He advertised it in the barter section of Craigslist.org, the Web site teeming with city-specific listings for everything from job openings to apartment rentals.

At first, MacDonald said merely that he wanted something bigger or better for his red paper clip. No mention of a house — he feared seeming flaky.

While he was visiting his hometown of Vancouver, British Columbia, two women gave him a fish-shaped pen for the paper clip.

Later that day, MacDonald headed to Seattle to catch a ballgame and a flight home. Before the airport, though, he stopped to see Annie Robbins, an artist who had just stumbled upon the Craigslist barter section. She admired its anticonsumerist vibe, she said, so she answered MacDonald's posting "on a lark."

MacDonald left her home the proud owner of a small ceramic doorknob with a smiley face, made by the son of an artist Robbins knows.

Next up was Shawn Sparks, who was packing up to move from Amherst, Mass., to Alexandria, Va.

Sparks, 35, is a huge fan of Craigslist barters, having acquired his 1993 Chevy Blazer in a trade for a used laptop.

Sparks offered MacDonald a Coleman camping stove. Sparks had two, and didn't want to lug both on his move. And he needed a new knob for his espresso machine.

Done. The men celebrated with a barbecue at Sparks' house.

MacDonald gave the camping stove to a Marine sergeant at Camp Pendleton, Calif., getting a generator in return.

East again. MacDonald swapped the generator for an "instant party package" — an empty beer keg, a neon Budweiser sign and a promise to fill the keg — proferred by a young man in Queens, New York City.

Before the trade, MacDonald left the generator in storage in his hotel. When he went to claim it, he was told it had been confiscated by the fire department because it was leaking gas.

"If there was ever a movie based on all that, that would be the closest to losing it all," he said, recalling his anguish.

But more on movies later.

MacDonald reclaimed the generator by tracking it to a firehouse in lower Manhattan, where he got a Tootsie Pop from the crew and petted their Dalmatian.

The beer package went to a Montreal disc jockey, in exchange for a snowmobile.

Here's where the project's grassroots purity may have gotten compromised. MacDonald's blog, http://oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com, was attracting attention, and MacDonald was invited onto Canadian television. Our wandering man was asked if there was anywhere he wouldn't go to trade the snowmobile.

An obscure place came to mind, so he spit it out: Yahk, a hamlet in the Canadian Rockies.

Some publicity-seeking ensued. A snowmobiling magazine offered an expense-paid trip to Yahk in exchange for the snowmobile. The trip went to Bruno Taillefer, Quebec manager for the supply company Cintas Corp. He got headquarters to let him give MacDonald a 1995 Cintas van that he had been planning to sell.

MacDonald gave the van — stripped of Cintas logos — to a musician seeking to haul gear. In turn, the musician, who works at a Toronto recording studio, arranged a recording contract, with studio time and a promise to pitch the finished product to music executives.

MacDonald handed the contract to Jody Gnant, a singer in Phoenix who owns a duplex.

And that is how Kyle MacDonald has turned a paper clip into a year of shelter in the desert.

Where it goes now, who knows. He says he has offers from Hollywood studios to turn his story into a film.

But he pledges not to accept gifts or overly lopsided trades that would undermine the peer-to-peer joy that he says has animated his journey. Asked what he has learned from all this, he responded:

"If you say you're going to do something and you start to do it, and people enjoy it or respect it or are entertained by it, people will step up and help you."

As Promised....

Snowboarding hurts. But it is SO fun. At this point (a week and a half later) we are still feeling some pain in upper gluteal region (tailbone), but I think it is going away. I think my best description of snowboarding was "A moment of pure excitement (riding) followed by a moment of sheer terror (trying to stop)". You see, stopping is the hardest thing to do. The faster you go, the harder it is to stop. My number one accomplishment was actually to get somewhat better at "falling correctly", as in, sliding instead of tumbling. I took a couple of really painful spills, and Laurie got trounced by a big girl in pink sweatpants, so that didn't help the pain factor. All in all, it was a good time and, for the most part, we've regained all vital body functions, which is good.

Go Mason.

Dance Like You Don't Need the Money

Well, after the first big weekend of the Dance, I currently stand tied for second in my local bracket and tied for first in the Harding pool on Facebook.com. However, from here on out, I predict utter failure. My top team is out, as is half of my final four. So, while my dance card has been frequently punched early in the night, it looks like I'll be stumbling home alone around 10:30.


Readers can anticipate an update on our snowboarding weekend when the pain subsides enough to continue typing.

Kids Answers to Questions

HOW DO YOU DECIDE WHO TO MARRY
You got to find somebody who likes the same stuff. Like, if you like sports, she should like it that you like sports, and she should keep the chips and dip coming. -- Alan, age 10

No person really decides before they grow up who they're going to marry. God decides it all way before, and you get to find out later who you're stuck with. -- Kristen, age 10

WHAT IS THE RIGHT AGE TO GET MARRIED?
Twenty-three is the best age because you know the person FOREVER by then. -- Camille, age 10

No age is good to get married at. You got to be a fool to get married. -- Freddie, age 6


HOW CAN A STRANGER TELL IF TWO PEOPLE ARE MARRIED?
You might have to guess, based on whether they seem to be yelling at the same kids. -- Derrick, age 8

WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR MOM AND DAD HAVE IN COMMON?
Both don't want any more kids. -- Lori, age 8

WHAT DO MOST PEOPLE DO ON A DATE?
Dates are for having fun, and people should use them to get to know each other. Even boys have something to say if you listen long enough. -- Lynnette, age 8

On the first date, they just tell each other lies and that Usually gets them interested enough to go for a second date. -- Martin, age 10

WHAT WOULD YOU DO ON A FIRST DATE THAT WAS TURNING SOUR?
I'd run home and play dead. The next day I would call all the newspapers and make sure they wrote about me in all the dead columns. -- Craig, age 9

WHEN IS IT OKAY TO KISS SOMEONE?
When they're rich. -- Pam, age 7

The law says you have to be eighteen, so I wouldn't want to mess with that. - - Curt, age 7

The rule goes like this: If you kiss someone, then you should marry them and have kids with them. It's the right thing to do. -- Howard, age 8


IS IT BETTER TO BE SINGLE OR MARRIED?
It's better for girls to be single but not for boys. Boys need someone to clean up after them. -- Anita, age 9 (bless you child)

HOW WOULD THE WORLD BE DIFFERENT IF PEOPLE DIDN'T GET MARRIED?
There sure would be a lot of kids to explain, wouldn't there? -- Kelvin, age 8

HOW WOULD YOU MAKE A MARRIAGE WORK?
Tell your wife that she looks pretty, even if she looks like a truck. -- Ricky, age 10