Lincolnite

I just witnessed an unbelievable scene. A co-worker called up her bank. She said that she wanted to transfer money from savings to checking. She gave her account number, her name, and the amount she wanted to transfer. Then she said "Thank you" and hung up. What the...?! I would never use a bank that doesn't require any sort of security clearance whatsoever to mess with funds. All the information she gave is easily accessible. Her name, account number, and bank's telephone number are all printed on her checks. Had I recorded her account number, or if I got it off one of her checks, I could call up the bank right now and access her account balances, transfer funds, and do who knows what else. At the very least I could be annoying -- say, by transferring all her checking account funds into her savings account, likely causing a few bounced checks. In theory I could be pretty malicious. My bank doesn't have the most stringent procedures in place for telephone transactions, but they are a heckuva lot more secure than what I just witnessed. Do other banks use the same procedures? Is fraud really that easy?

The Wall Street Journal's James Taranto points to two articles that highlight the weird effect the abortion debate has had on language usage in the U.S. Compare:

"A 13-year-old giant panda gave birth to a cub at San Diego Zoo, but a second baby died in the womb, officials said Wednesday."--Associated Press, Aug. 3

"A cancer-ravaged woman robbed of consciousness by a stroke has given birth after being kept on life support for three months to give her fetus extra time to develop."--Associated Press, Aug. 3

That's a pretty strange -- and disturbing -- language inversion if you ask me.

*Sigh*

The Missus and I dropped by the newly-renovated Sunken Gardens last night. It looks nice. Very, very nice. Some random thoughts:

• The dome at the entrance is very cool.
• I like the extensive brick work on the paths. Somebody spent a lot of time cutting and laying bricks.
• The bench that appears to be the lopped-off top of an old column or pillar is a nice touch.
• Why is the upper path composed of loose gravel rather than bricks? The gravel was not very stable and thus not very accessible to persons with disabilities.
• Volunteers are being recruited to spend one night per month at the gardens to help prevent vandalism. Seems like a flood light and a couple web cams could do the trick.
• On the whole the designers did a very good job integrating plenty of appropriate seating opportunities. Their biggest fault -- and it's not very big -- was in leaving out moveable seating. But that's a minor quibble.
• Even the parking lot looks nice. Nobody ever spends time designing parking lots to be attractive. Kudos to whoever spent the time to think about the parking lot.
• The sculptures (Rebecca at the Well and another one, the name of which escapes me right now) are very nice, but they are situated in locations that may make them easier to vandalize.

Apparently I picked up some hitchhikers while hiking at Indian Cave on Sunday. And not just a few. I have chigger bites up the wazoo. (But not in, or even near, the wazoo, thank goodness.) With the exception of a few random bites on my arms and chest, all the bites are on my ankles. My right ankle has a few dozen small red welts. My left ankle -- God, how do I describe my left ankle? -- is completely covered in bites. Hundreds of bites. I searched for images of chigger bites and none of the images I found come even close to portraying how many bites I have. I used to get chigger bites all the time when I went camping back in my Boy Scout days. I never saw anything like this, on myself or on any of my fellow campers. Fortunately chigger bites aren't especially harmful. They can lead to secondary infections, but typically only if you fail to keep the area clean. But the concentration of these bites has left me in almost unbearable, itchy agony. While laying in bed last night it actually felt like my ankles were on fire. I thought for sure I was going to scratch straight through the skin. Somehow The Missus managed to avoid the same fate. Lucky lady. I must have unknowingly killed the King of the Chiggers, invoking the wrath of the Chigger Kingdom. They sure know how to get their revenge.

DNA evidence freed yet another man yesterday. Kudos to The Innocence Project for working to free him.

I used to toss Wiffle Balls to him back when he was just a little squirt and he would constantly smack them over his neighbors' fences. (Seriously, I've never seen a five year-old bat so well.) Yesterday, Chip Healey pounded three home runs for J.C. Brager in American Legion State Tournament play. Some people never change.

Have you ever noticed the ice you get from the pop machines at Subway restaurants? I love those little 1 cm3 cubes. I have never selected or denied a restaurant based solely on its ice, but if I did, Subway would be sitting very well.

One of these days I'll have a weekend where I get to just sit around and do nothing. One of these days. I spent Saturday up in Omaha attending a fitness test and training session for the upcoming college soccer season. I was a bit worried about the fitness test since the last time I did any substantial running was back in May at the high school state soccer tournament. As it turns out, I needn't have been concerned. I ran about 2700 meters in the 12-minute endurance test, and I sailed through the various agility, speed, and anaerobic capacity tests. Apparently my legs still have a little spunk left in them even all these years after my high school prime. I was sore as hell on Sunday, though. Nothing will bring you down from an "I'm still in great shape" delusion like extreme muscle soreness the next morning. On Saturday evening I had a wonderful meal with The Missus and my parents at La Paz. I really enjoy that place. It's one of my favorite area Mexican restaurants. The soreness from Saturday didn't stop The Missus and I from driving down to Indian Cave on Sunday morning for a little hiking. The weather was just about perfect for a hike, with reasonable temperatures and overcast skies most of the day. We ended up walking about seven miles. As a cool bonus we ran across eleven deer, a few of whom let us get relatively close before running off into the woods. Two of the deer were fawns hanging out with their mothers. I realize that you can see deer pretty much any time you want in Nebraska, but there's something extra neat about seeing them in a more natural setting. Since The Missus and I were too exhausted to cook on Sunday evening, we ordered a BBQ chicken pizza from daVinci's. The BBQ was a nice change from the usual tomato sauce.

President George W. Bush is in the "superior" fitness category for men his age, he is in the 99th percentile healthwise for men his age, and he has been declared the fittest president in history. So why does the government he oversees call him fat?