robrohr.org : personal

Googling oneself...

robrohr — Tue, 29 Jul 2008 16:58:28 GMT

The whitepages.com site allows you to see a geographic distribution of individuals with a particular name within the United States. When I googled myself (Images, specifically), the first hit was from http://names.whitepages.com/Kansas/Robert/Rohr and contained the following image:

I know of another Robert Rohr in Vermont who is a retired attorney with links to Margot's law firm. I think that's about all of the Rob Rohr that people around here can handle.

Just try and maintain a poker face...

robrohr — Tue, 02 Jul 2002 00:08:00 GMT

You know you want to...

[ed: This is amusing enough by itself, but if you keep going beyond the initial guffaw, you're in for a treat!]

'I' before 'e', except when the hobnail boot of the oppressor...

robrohr — Mon, 17 Jun 2002 17:40:00 GMT

I had to ask Ian how to spell buzh-wa. He Knew!

[ed: I think one of the prerequisites of being borgieous is knowing how to spell it.]

What's in a name?

robrohr — Sun, 16 Jun 2002 10:14:00 GMT

My friend, Ian, insists that I should refer to the graphic below as a 'pushpin' rather than a 'thumbtack'. How bourgeois.

Ian, you may recall, sent me the information that resulted in the Silly Name Generator.

I'm an icon thief...

robrohr — Tue, 04 Jun 2002 16:20:00 GMT

I stole the little thumb tack from my brother's blog, changed the color (a little) and incorporated it into my Blog. When in doubt, borrow. This will make it easier to cross-reference my items. The thumb tack points to the archived version of the post in question so even when the item disappears from the main page, I can still link to the original item.

If you wish to link to any of these items, link to the URL that is wrapped around the thumbtack at the foot of each posting.

Oh, yeah, Margot and I have moved...

robrohr — Mon, 03 Jun 2002 18:40:00 GMT

Margot and I have traded in our dirty faded Renter/Tenant ID cards and signed up for the world of property ownership. We've moved into a condominium in the neighboring Yuppieville that is Williston, Vermont. I'm not going to post the address and phone for the world to see, but expect an email with the info, and pester me if I'm lax. Pictures to follow.

Ooh, a search engine!

robrohr — Mon, 03 Jun 2002 18:33:00 GMT

You may have noticed a search engine capability in the upper left corner of each page. I installed a temporary license of MondoSearch with behavior tracking. Naturally, the license has run out before I figured out how to post into my blog. Not such a bad thing. The school has purchased a full license so I will have the nifty search capability back, but I have to get it working on the main server first.

May take a month or so for it to work again. I give you tempting tastes of tech, only to rend them from your grimy grasp. Alliteration always alters the effectiveness of a presentation, no?

We had a deal...

robrohr — Mon, 03 Jun 2002 18:13:00 GMT

You may have noticed, that the last entry was entered towards the end of last October. You will also note that it mentions my having met a lovely woman.

Why such a long absence, you may ask. Has nothing of significance happened to me in the past eight months? The detectives among you may surmise one of the following:

Rob (a geek) impresses Margot with his wide ranging grasp of minutiae, at which point she drops him like an old fish.
Rob and Margot fall into such passionate love, that they seclude themselves into a tantric, computerless existence that precludes frequent updates to the website.
Neither Rob or Margot exist, and this site is merely a Hollywood teaser website for a movie who's release has been unfortunately delayed.

The reality of the situation is more sinister, though I like the sound of the tantric one.

Initially, Margot's and my love for each other was such that I soon forgot that the container containing aforementioned Brussels Sprouts was festering away in the back of my refrigerator. After about a month, the haze of new love had been peeled away from our eyes and we faced our first major hurdle as a couple. The lovely container fighting to contain the now festering Brussels Sprouts was from Margot's fine stock of Pyrex brand storage containers, and now it was undoubtedly getting stinky. She mentioned to me, as young lovers do, that she would like her container back at some point. I laugh off the request, as young lovers often do, assuring her that I will definitely return her container presently, and hows about a nice big smooch.

November fades into December, and the gleam in her eye is turning hard edged and glassy. An ultimatum is levied, a deadline is set. The Brussels Sprouts container will be scrubbed and returned by New Years, or else, buster. Still playing perfectly the part of the oblivious male, I nod my head and smile, giggling, but with a hint of consternation lifting up the corners of my love-fogged mind. Perhaps she means it? I wonder briefly about the "Or Else, buster" part, then focus on something considerably less important, but more immediate. I haven't the foggiest idea what distracted me at the time, but I'm sure it was of critical importance.

New Years came and went, and the Brussels Sprouts continued to shrivel and discolor. I had unwittingly provided Margot the first pillar of an unassailable position from which she could soundly trounce me in any and all arguments. It goes without saying that I have since provided her with a rich and varied platform of reasons why she should and does win each argument in which we find ourselves.

At this point the machine upon which I host this site needs to be rebuilt and in rebuilding it, I break the connection to Blogger, limiting my ability to post updates to the site. I vow, pledge and affirm that I will not post a single word to the web site until such time as I can truthfully tell the Internet browsing public that I have indeed repaired Margot's Brussels Sprout container to her in working order. Technically, the container has been restored to her sans Brussels Sprouts. The lid had to be discarded as the smell of rotting Brussels Sprouts had pervaded it in such a way as no amount of bleach could cure.

For those of you exclaiming, "Eight Months?!?!", I can only say, the container was returned two months ago, but I have only now figured out why the Blogger posting structure continued to fail (It was attempting to update an archive file that didn't exist) and have commenced posting.

Margot and I are still quite together despite my nastier refrigerator hygiene habits. I have learned my lesson, and Margot suspects I may have learned my lesson. Expect more postings in a more regular pattern.

Ack!!! A Girlfriend!!!

robrohr — Wed, 24 Oct 2001 16:56:00 GMT

I have met a lovely woman named Margot, and she brings me Brussels Sprouts. [ed. note: I can't believe I misspelled Brussels Sprouts, perhaps my favorite vegetable. Brussells Sprouts, what was I thinking? I have corrected the spelling so that I might be able to find this entry using a search engine using accepted spelling.]

I think I'll keep her.

In retrospect, this was NOT the crassest response to 9/11

robrohr — Mon, 17 Sep 2001 18:43:00 GMT

In retrospect, my actions before and during the tragedy at the World Trade Center and the Pentagon could be construed as suspicious, so as a public service to the community, I've decided to find out once and for all whether I am Usama bin Ladin.


Usama bin Ladin	Me	Me - Adjusted

The FBI claims Usama is some 5-7 inches taller, at least 60 pounds lighter and 12 years older than I am. See the FBI Most Wanted entry for Mister bin Ladin for more reasons why he and I aren't the same person.

Thankfully for the world, it would appear that I am not Usama bin Ladin, and for your information, when I grow my beard out, I look like a deranged Amish person rather than a deranged Islamic fundamentalist revolutionary. So there.

Utah will get a tourism boost out of this one, for sure!

robrohr — Wed, 08 Aug 2001 21:11:00 GMT

I have an idea for a new game/art form. It's like etch-a-sketch, only you use your car windshield. First you drip some dirty water at the top of the windshield and you adjust the speed and direction of the car to control the path of the droplet as it attempts to make its way to the bottom. I think the optimal location to practice this game/art form would be the salt flats of Utah. One can incorporate split second decisions as to the velocity and direction one chooses without those pesky distractions such as curbs, pedestrians, houses and other cars.

So far, being limited in speed, location of turns, traffic rules and so forth, I've only been able to create a seemingly random rain spatter/dribble pattern. I'm sure with practice, determination, and a little time in the desert, I'll one day be able to make a gumby.

My first attempt at a photo blog...

robrohr — Thu, 19 Jul 2001 17:51:00 GMT

I've put together a page that roots about in a folder and displays thumbnails of any images it may find. You can see a sample of the long awaited Germany trip photos using this tool. I'll be adding some text blurbs/descriptions to each photo as well as more permanent links to the photo archive.

In the upper right hand corner you will see links to all the photos taken each day, grouped by city. Click the city name to view all the photos taken in that city. The initial view is a list of thumbnails of all images in a particular directory. Click the thumbnail image to see an enlarged version of the image

I just wanted to make the professor say -Balzac.-

robrohr — Wed, 18 Jul 2001 15:21:00 GMT

Well, I'm most of the way through July, and am sadly lacking critically important life milestones to post for the e-consumption of my viewing public. Over the last two and a half weeks, I've been working 8AM to 1 or 2 in the morning of the next day (including weekends) on providing meaningful exercises for an all day E-Commerce Course (http://balzac.uvm.edu/bsad195 [ed: this server no longer exists]). Today is the last day of this class, and is therefore the first time in weeks that I'll make it home before sunset. Naturally, the apartment has been collecting piles of steamy laundry and piles of fast food wrappings. The stinky refrigerator with malfunctioning freezer is fermenting some old Chinese food, so there is every likelihood that I may be confronted by an unruly pet made of the more sentient and revolutionary members of the refrigerator community.

This doesn't happen often, but I feel the need to clean. Somebody stop me.

That's just not right...

robrohr — Thu, 05 Jul 2001 00:42:00 GMT

Imagine my surprise when the Mozart-Kugeln that I bought in the Detroit International Airport weren't identical to those purchased in Austria (where they are made). Harrumph. My confidence in the Detroit International Airport as a paragon of Cosmopolitan Life and Culture has been shaken to the core.